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eglerieth · 1 year

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All these posts going around saying that by Din’s logic, the Darksaber belongs to Sidious, here’s my take

the Mandalorians are all gathered together in some cave somewhere. Someone realizes that ownership of the Darksaber was decided on the second Death Star. Din summons Luke because someone mentioned that he was the last person to see Sheev alive.

Luke: yes?

Din: Emperor Palpatine was the last person to own an heirloom that makes a person the leader of my people.

Luke: Um… I don’t know much about your people, but… given that you live in this galaxy, I’m assuming the Empire hurt you in some major way. I’m guessing you are averse to his possessing this heirloom.

Mandalorians: *nodding

Luke: also, he was a Sith Lord, so, again, not an ideal king

those scattered Mandalorians that actually know what a dar’jettii is: 😳🤯😳🤯- no wait that makes sense

some random Mandalorian: also, he’s dead, right?

Luke: yup, definitely dead. I watched him get thrown a reactor shaft myself.

Armorer: by whom? The darksaber is won in combat, so whoever killed him gets it

Luke: Darth Vader

Mandalorians: yeah, that’s not much better. And he’s ALSO dead, right? Who killed HIM?

Luke: …The Emperor

Mandalorians:

Din: if the Emperor killed him, how did he manage to kill the Emperor?

Luke: the Emperor electrocuted him, and then he threw the Emperor down the reactor shaft, and meanwhile the electricity from a few seconds ago was shorting out his life support suit, and then he died in my arms. It was actually very emotional.

Everyone, who thought Luke had managed to walk out of the throne room because he somehow killed the two most powerful people in the galaxy:

Luke: yeah, no, I basically just stood there and got provoked and then electrocuted. I’d be dead if Vader hadn’t died to save me.

Paz: why would he do that?

Luke: because he’s my father.

Mandalorians: 😲

Luke: I don’t let on about it because people might have some things to say about the hero of the Rebellion being the son of the Empire’s worst enforcer.

Armorer: It does not matter who your father is, only what kind of father you will be. This is the Way.

Mandalorians: This is the Way.

Luke: Thanks. I like that.

Paz, who is a Viszla, the House that held the Darksaber for centuries: The Darksaber can also be inherited. Wait- does this make you Mand’alor?!

Luke, with even more horror than Din had in that position: no no no no no. I’m not even Mandalorian, and even if I was, I have enough to do with rebuilding the Jedi order, which isn’t going so great, thanks for asking. The last thing I want is to get involved in any kind of political stuff. That’s my sister’s job.

Mandalorians: you have a sister?

Luke: yeah, Leia Organa

Mandalorians: the Hutt Slayer?!

Luke: I- yeah, the Hutt slayer. Not how she’s usually introduced…

Mandalorians: *agreeing that the renowned Hutt Slayer would be a much better Mand’alor than this jetii twink*

Bo-Katan, who actually knows something about the New Republic: But isn’t Senator Organa a leading member of the New Republic? We don’t want Mandalore to be part of the New Republic.

Luke: Leia is one hundred percent Alderaanian. Her allegiance may be to the New Republic, but her culture and beliefs are her own.

some random Mando: if you’re her brother, are you from Alderaan too?

Luke: no, doofus. I’m from Tatooine.

Din, trying to improve his small talk: I have a friend on Tatooine. Boba Fett? He’s the leader now.

Luke, choking: BOBA FETT’S ALIVE?!

Din: you know him?

Luke: he captured my brother-in-law, froze him in carbonite, and sold him to Jabba. We had to spend a year away from the war effort to rescue him!

Din: *awkward*

Armorer, trying to steer the focus back to the Darksaber: Are you the firstborn, or your sister? The Darksaber passes to the oldest child.

Luke: I don’t actually know. We’re twins, and have no idea who was at our birth who can tell us. Maybe my father would know? I’ll ask him now.

Mandalorians: isn’t he dead?

Luke: yeah, but I can talk to his ghost.

Mandalorians:

Luke summons Anakin. Grogu whimpers and hides behind Din. To everyone else, Luke is talking to thin air.

Luke: hello father, do you know if me or Leia is older?

Anakin: of course not, idiot. I didn’t even know either of you existed until a few years ago!

Luke: oh, right.

Anakin: Obi-Wan would know. He was the one who stole you from me.

Luke: really, father, we’ve gotta work on your tact.

Anakin: why? Obi-Wan was the kriffing Negotiator, not me.

Luke: he was called the Negotiator?

Bo-Katan, wincing at a million memories and knowing exactly who they’re talking about despite only hearing one side of the conversation: I could never get my sister to shut up about Kenobi. Insufferable jetii, always hanging off her arm.

Luke: Ben was a Mandalorian’s escort?!

Armorer: Ben is a Mandalorian name. Was he Mandalorian?

Luke: 😲

Luke: I don’t think so…?

Bo-Katan, reminiscing: I’m pretty sure my sister gave him that name.

Luke: My nephew was named after him. I can’t believe my nephew has a Mandalorian name.

Mandalorians: nephew?

Luke: yeah, he’s adorable. Here, I have pictures. *starts showing pictures of baby Ben Solo*

The Mandalorians, being Mandalorians, are utterly won over by the smallest Skywalker. The idea of Leia is a leader is growing more popular. Luke summons Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan: hello there, Luke. What the hell are you doing in a cave with a gajillion Mandalorians?

Luke: Hi, Ben, we just wanted to know, was I or Leia born first?

Obi-Wan: You. I’ll never forget it. You were both such beautiful babies.

Luke: …right…

Paz, staring at the wall where he thinks Obi-Wan is but is actually Anakin’s elbow: What did he say?

Luke: I’m older -

Luke: Oh.

Luke: Kriff

Din: Dank Farrik

Everyone else: *thinking the same thing but to polite to say it*

Bo-Katan: although…it could still be won in combat.

Luke, ringing up Leia on his comm: Good evening, dear sister. Would you mind flying out to the location on my transponder and kicking my ^*s?

Leia, all blue and wavy on the comm: I never mind kicking your %#s, Luke, but why?

Luke: if you do that, you can be king of Mandalore!

Luke: 😀

Leia:

Leia: Are you kriffing kidding me?! Do you know how hard it is to keep the New Republic from collapsing? And raise a force sensitive baby with shady idols? And save my husband’s skin from every criminal he runs afoul of every other day? I most certainly will not become the monarch of some random nation I’ve never been apart of!

Mandalorians: 🙁

Han, over Leia’s shoulder: so we’re not fighting the kid? I was looking forward to that!

Chewbacca, towering over Leia’s head: *wookie noises of agreement *

Armorer: Actually only the challenger would be fight- *comm cuts out*

*a few minutes later

The Falcon is heard overhead. Han, on comms: We came anyway, kid. I was bored today.

Chewie leaps out and tackles Luke with a bear hug, almost breaking his ribs.

Luke: can’t- breathe- chewie-

Chewie releasing him and patting him on the head: *hello in wookie noises*

Mandalorians:

Chewie, in Shriwook: *what?*

Mandalorians:

Din silently unclips the Darksaber from his belt and hands it to Chewie.

And that’s the story of how Chewbacca became Mand’alor.

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crosshairscrustysock · 8 months

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Let’s get some fun recommendations goin around here! What’s a piece of clone content (art, fic, etc) that has stuck with you as being notably excellent? Tag it in your answer so we can all find some new fun to read! If you want, of course; feel free to ignore! 💕

I would love to introduce to you these excellent fics

[im very happy to spread some fun recommendations]

So for a short smutty read :

For a short fluff read :

As for longer reads:

- I am currently reading these amazing fics <3

And soon to start this one :

And thanks for coming to my Ted talk, folks ,that's all tumblr seems to allow me to put :))

Lol I hope this list is what you were hoping for lol :) I'm always happy to recommend fics <33333

(you should definitely check out these author's master lists of works- they're quite incredible )

#the bad batch #star wars #clone thirsting #star wars fanfiction #crosshair x you #hunter x reader #ask #boba fett x reader #tech smut #clone smut #tech x reader #tech x oc #tbb hunter x reader

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iateyourfav · 2 months

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Beastification - Chapter 2

Mr Beast engages in his first actual conversation with the batch, resulting in a variety of reactions from each of the clones.

The Bad Batch x Mr Beast

Tags: sfw, Crack fic, slow burn, Mr Beast AU, crack taken seriously

CW: the y/nification of Mr Beast, mentions of child abduction, braindead Mr Beast, Mr Beast talks to an invisible camera, lore breaking content

Words: 1117

Will update on Wednesdays and Sundays

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Read on ao3

„WHO?“

„MR BEAST (born May 7, 1998), more commonly known as MrBeast, is an American YouTuber. He is known for his expensive stunts and philanthropy.[1] He is the second most subscribed creator, on youtube, second only to T-Series. He has been seen as the creator of a new genre of YouTube videos that are expensive stunts.[2]“ Omega said this as if she‘d learned this information like a poem. She probably did.

Everyone turned around to the man they just rescued from Jabba‘s slimey grasp. He gave them a small smile and said: „Hey Everyone, it‘s Mr Beast..“ he seemed shy, obviously blushing. His cheek color now almost matching Wreckers.

“I‘ve never heard that name before.“ Hunter responded after thinking about Omega‘s description for a second. But Wrecker did. He heard that name before, though he couldn‘t exactly place where. Mr Beast. He felt like lightning was shooting through him, creating an urge to protect the man he just rescued. Something connected them, he felt it. He couldn‘t tell why and he couldn‘t even say if he cared for an explanation.

He was too distracted thinking about what just happened to notice Hunter talking to him. „Wrecker, take his handcuffs off.“ „Oh, sorry.“ He took them off and put them in his pocket. He heard Mr Beast release a sigh, indicating relief, along with another „Thank you“ he, again, wasn‘t able to vocalize a response to.

“Mr Beast, I love your videos!“ Omega began running towards the man. „Careful Omega, we don‘t know if he‘s dangerous or not.“ Hunter warned, not wanting Omega to get hurt.

“He‘s not dangerous, he just locks people in houses and exposes them to their biggest fears for money!“ she reached the newly liberated hostage, smiling up at him „My favorite are your Squid Game videos!“ Everyone looked a little bit confused at this point, but intrigued at the same time. The stunning man made them curious. What did he do to get locked up and held prisoner in Jabba's Palace?

“What did you do to end up here?“ Tech was the first to speak to Mr Beast directly.

„I CHALLENGED JABBA THE HUTT FOR AUTHORITY!!!! I STOLE his NEWBORN CHILD !! If he got it back, he would’ve won 20,000 CREDITS, and if I would‘ve won, I would‘ve raised his child as ONE OF MY OWN!“

Omega seemed visibly excited at this idea. Wrecker was in awe. He‘s never heard a voice this soothing before. Hearing Mr Beast's voice felt like an angel touching his ears. He felt instantly at peace.

„You stole Jabba's newborn child?“ Echo looked at Mr Beast like he was insane. But was this plan really that crazy? Why not steal Jabba the Hutt's child and challenge him for authority? What spoke against it, really?

But what stood out most to Wrecker was Mr Beast's seemingly maternal urges to raise Jabba‘s child. Motherhood seemed to fit Mr Beast perfectly. Knock that thought out of your head Wrecker thought.

“Alright Mr Beast, I don‘t really know what’s going on with you but we gotta get you back to Cids. Get on the ship.“ Hunter's suspicion about the man lessened, the feeling now being replaced with confusion. What was going on with this man? Cid better pay them double for this mission.

They finally got him on the ship after he got done telling them something about NordVPN, whatever that was supposed to mean. Mr Beast was now talking to Omega in the back of the ship, telling her about the candy bars he wanted to sell her, while the rest of the batch gathered in the cockpit to discuss this person they brought onto their ship.

“He‘s a creep. He‘s talking complete nonsense all the time. Do you think he‘s actually insane?“ Echo was clearly not impressed with their new passenger.

Wrecker did not like Echo talking about Mr Beast like this. He felt protective of the god-like creature he just met a few moments ago. He was fearless and crazier than him. He was his Queen and god help anyone who dared to disrespect his Queen.

“Hey, we don‘t know him that well yet. And the kid likes him, so I don‘t have a problem with him.“ Wrecker defended Mr Beast, hoping nobody noticed his blushing cheeks.

„Yet? I hope we never see that man again after we hand him over to Cid.“ Echo snapped back. Hunter stayed quiet, deep in thought. Mr Beast wasn‘t acting like anyone else he‘d ever met before. His clear, loud voice; his gestures, the way his arms flung when he explained his plan to steal Jabba‘s baby; the way he talked like he was speaking to someone suffering from loss of hearing. He didn‘t know how to feel about him.

He watched him talk to Omega. She, at least, seemed certain that she liked him. It doesn‘t matter what we think of him, Hunter thought, he’s gonna be gone as quick as he came when we hand him over to Cid. He secretly hoped he‘d never see him again, so his head would stop centerning all of his thoughts around him.

What happened now, he didn‘t expect though. Hunter noticed Wrecker making his way towards the back of the ship. He looked uncomfortable, maybe nervous? But certain. Was he trying to make conversation with Mr Beast?

“What is he doing?“ Echo seemed to have noticed what Wrecker was trying to do, as well. Tech glanced towards the back too, though seemingly not caring enough to comment on what was going on.

“H-Hey“ Wrecker tried his hardest to get the words he wanted to say, to actually leave his mouth. Mr Beast looked up at him with his sparkling blue eyes, taking his breath away. „I- I just wanted to ask if you were okay, because you were locked up in Jabba‘s Palace and stuff like that.“ He looked at his feet the entire time he talked, escaping Mr Beast's eye contact, because Wrecker wasn‘t sure how long he could withstand this man's look.

“I‘M FINE! Just A LITTLE BIT annoyed that I couldn‘t get away with another CHILD ABDUCTION!“ Wrecker internally swooned at Mr Beast's beautiful voice, he wasn‘t sure he could ever get enough of hearing it. That’s when he noticed he was staring just a little bit too much. „Something wrong, Wrecker?“ Omega asked him, with a smile on her face, obviously happy her brother wanted to get to know her idol.

Wrecker searched his mind for a topic he overheard Mr Beast talking about in the time span between the rescue and now, in order to keep the conversation going.

“So, what’s this Squid Game thing about?“

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mandos-mind-trick · 11 months

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BobaDin A/B/O Teaser

Read part 1 of the full fic here!!!

Summary: Boba and Din met before his fall into the Sarlacc pit, after Din was stranded during his heat with no suppressants. They parted ways after, both of them content to pretend it never happened, except that's not possible for Din. Boba tracks Din down, only to find he's in for a surprise when he meets the omega Mandalorian once more.

Pairing: Alpha Boba Fett x omega Din Djarin

Warnings: A/B/O universe, implied mpreg, Boba's kind of a softie in this part at least, very AU post Mando season 2, fluff and cuteness but also kind of sad, named child character cause plot.

A/N: I posted this a few months ago but took it down after it kinda flopped. There's been some renewed interest in it today so I've decided to repost it. There's a post on my page regarding the universe this exists in and some background. I was in a mindset when I wrote this and I am very sorry. Also kind of cuts off awkwardly at the end cause I just...stopped writing at that point.

@rosechi and those anons from earlier made me do it.

He holds her close, closer than he ever has. All the times he had left her, all the times he had been forced to leave on hunts was nothing compared to the last few days. She had been taken from him by someone who wouldn’t think twice about hurting her. He had been careless leaving two children alone like that. He had been thankful at first that she hadn’t just been killed. Perhaps Gideon had thought it would only hurt him more if he took both of them.

He had done what he promised he’d do. He had rescued both of them, and he had gotten Grogu back to his kind. Still, there is an ache in his chest, a hole forming as Grogu gets further and further away. As much as he wants to curl into himself, let his instincts take over, he has a pup to support. A distressed pup who had just lost a member of her aliit.

He sinks into one of the seats, holding her tight against his chest. He lets his helmet drop to the floor, uncaring if the other two in the ship come down and see him. He’s projecting his scent a bit, trying to calm his pup. It’s a bit dangerous with an alpha close by, but he can’t care. His pup needs him.

“Shh.” He shushes her, pressing her face against his neck.

“I m-miss him.” She cries, clinging to his cloak.

“I know.” He says. “Remember what we talked about? Grogu had to go back to his kind. To his own aliit.”

“But he’s our aliit.”

“Only for a little while, remember? Until we found where he belonged.”

She continues to cry and he can do nothing but let her. It pains him to scent her distress, but she needs to let it out. The best he could do is offer her comfort.

She cries herself to sleep, still clinging to him. He leans his head back, trying to process the last couple days. It felt like a fever dream. He had been so scared, so desperate to get them back, to make sure they were safe. He’s exhausted.

Boba climbs down the ladder a while later. Din had put his helmet back on, needing to feel secure. Needing to feel safe. The alpha sinks into the seat next to him, removing his helmet with a sigh.

“How is she?” He asks, glancing sideways at the pair.

“Upset.” Din answers.

Boba hums. “Losing a family member is never easy.” He looks at Din. “How are you?”

“I’ll manage.” He answers shortly.

Boba stares at him for a long moment. “What will you do now?”

Din sighs. He had been trying not to think about that. What is going to happen now? He’d finished what he had been tasked with. Did he go back to hunting? It would be hard with Vira. He didn’t want to start leaving her for long periods again. Not after spending so much time with her. His instincts screamed at the idea of being parted with her again. Did he try to track down a covert? Take his place among Mandalorians once more? “I don’t know.” He finally answers honestly. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Join us.” Boba says. “We’re going back to Tatooine. I’m going to take over Jabba’s palace, become Daimyo. Come with us. Let me spend some time with the pup I didn’t know existed.”

Right. This was his pup as well. He’s not sure how he could forget. She looked just like him. Perhaps because it was a bit unreal still.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Boba asks after a moment of silence.

“I tried looking for you after she was born. Everyone I found said you were dead.”

Boba leans back in his seat once again. “I almost was. I never thought...” He shakes his head. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright. I’m not sure I would have made it had you not been there.” Din adjusts his hold on Vira, easing her into a more comfortable position. “I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

Boba stares at her, able to see her face from the new position. A small smirk forms on his face, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “Those Fett genes are strong.”

Din can’t help but smile under his helmet. “There’s no doubting it.”

Boba smiles. “I’m serious.” He lets his eyes flit to Din’s helmet. “Come with us. Let me take care of you. Both of you.”

Din leans his head back against the seat. Boba’s words strike something deep in him, all his repressed instincts flooding to the surface. He had been on his own for so long. Forcing himself on suppressants, holding every alpha he came across at arm’s length. He did it for himself, and he did it for Vira.

Was this his chance to take a load off his shoulders? To share in carrying that weight of his instincts and his pup? Fett had proven himself loyal and trustworthy over and over again. Vira was his pup. He could take her if he wanted, and force them apart. Din knows he won’t. Boba knows how much family means to Mandalorians. Boba was offering them a place of belonging, a home. He would care for his pup, and Din as the bearer of his pup.

Din doesn’t realize he’s crying, quiet gasps crackling through his modulator. Boba is crouched beside him, hand on the back of his neck. It’s not a cruel touch, it’s not a scruff like some alphas would do to control an omega. It’s comforting. Grounding.

“Let me help you.” He says softly, thumb stroking the column of his throat. The touch is jarring, after so long without any touch at all.

“I owe you so much already.” Din gasps out, the tears not stopping.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Boba says. “I would have helped you even if she wasn’t my pup. If you think you need to repay me, do it by coming with us.”

Din closes his eyes, letting himself just feel. He hadn’t been this close to an alpha in six years. He never thought he’d see Boba again, much less be working with him. He knows the restraint it must have taken for Boba not to march onto the cruiser and take out Moff Gideon himself to get his pup back. The pup he hadn’t known existed until just a couple days ago. He knew Din was the one who had to do it, was the one who had to protect his aliit.

Boba could be aliit too.

It would be so easy to let him in, to give over to instinct. He had been carrying the weight for so long. How nice it would be to let go for once.

*****

He wakes in a bunk. For a moment he forgets where he is, what had happened. He’s back on the Crest, tucked into his bunk, the place that had been his home for years. But the Crest was destroyed. He had been on Boba’s ship, heading wherever after he had rescued his ade.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, or even moving to the bunk. Boba’s scent floats around him, muted a bit by his helmet. He resists the urge to take off his helmet, bury himself in the scent. Instead he turns on his side, the blanket that had been tossed over him falling to the floor. Something feels off as he lays there in the silence.

Vira.

He sits up so fast his helmet hits the top bunk, but he ignores the vibrations rattling his head. He hits the button on the wall, light flooding the small space as he steps out, eyes searching the ship for his pup.

He doesn’t have to look long, finding Fennec standing in front of one of the viewports holding her. She’s staring out at the blue of hyperspace, eyes open wide and mouth agape. Din breathes a quiet sigh of relief, approaching the beta and his pup.

Vira turns to him, a big smile on her face. “Look, buir!” She points out the viewport.

He turns to look, eyes trailing over the giant creatures. “Purgil.” He says.

She stares at them in awe, Fennec eyeing him. “Don’t work yourself up.” She says. “She was getting squirmy. You need the rest.”

“I didn’t take you for the nurturing type.” He says.

The beta gives him a look. “I’m not.” But the way she looks down at Vira says otherwise.

“Will you be okay for a few more minutes?” He asks.

“I suppose.” Fennec says, motioning for him to go ahead.

Din climbs up the ladder to the cockpit, quietly sinking into the passenger seat. He stares out at the blue of hyperspace for a moment, watching it flash by.

“We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace near Tatooine shortly.” Boba says, his gaze facing forward as well.

“If I come with you, what exactly do you expect?” Din asks, trying to put his thoughts into words. He feels vulnerable in the presence of the alpha, even though Fett was nothing but relaxed.

“I’ll need your help.” Boba says honestly. “Taking Jabba’s seat will be easy. Getting Mos Espa to agree will be the hardest. There will be a lot of pushback, I expect, not just from the families. The Hutts will have their own opinions. I need muscle, someone to back me up.”

“It sounds dangerous.” Din muses.

“It will be, at least at first.” Boba agrees. “I wouldn’t blame you for saying no.”

“And Vira? I can’t afford to put her in more danger.”

Boba turns to face him, and though Din can’t see the look on his face, he can feel the change in the alpha. “I may not know her, but I promise I will give my life to protect her.”

“And me?” Din says quietly, his brain starting to buzz under the intensity of the alpha. “What do you expect from me?”

“Nothing.” Boba says, turning back around. “It would be your decision. If you want suppressants, I’ll be sure we have extra. You’re always welcome at my side, even if it’s nothing more than as an ally.”

******

Fett had been right. Taking Jabba’s palace had been easy. Despite Din’s insistence, Boba had forced him to stay on the ship with Vira as he and Fennec went in and cleaned house. Din is quietly grateful for the moment of rest. He feels weary, a type of weary he hasn’t felt in a long time. He could have forced himself to do it, but he can feel the exhaustion deep in his bones as he sits on the floor of the ship.

It’s the same weary he had felt when he had been stuck without his suppressants. The same weary he’d felt after he’d had Vira. The same weary he’d struggled with after he decided to leave her in the care of the covert and returned to bounty hunting.

He needs an alpha.

His omega yearns for an alpha.

He has an alpha.

Boba had been forward in his implications. He would take that position, if Din wanted it. It wasn’t that Din didn’t trust Boba. He owed a lot to the alpha. Boba had been the one that found him stranded without suppressants, half dead after being thrown into his first heat in years. Boba had cared for him, fought against every instinct telling him to sink his teeth into Din’s shoulder, and got him on a ship back to civilization.

He had also, inadvertently, given Din a pup.

Vira had been born not long after the fall of the Empire. Din had waited a year and a half before he began his search, traveling all the places the bounty hunter frequented. He heard the same thing over and over, that Boba was dead. Fell into a sarlacc pit on the very planet they were on currently. Din had given up his search not long after he started.

He knew he’d likely raise Vira by himself. If he had found Boba, he’s not sure what the bounty hunter’s reaction would have been. He could have taken Vira for himself, raised his pup as he had the right to do. Din had wrestled with that idea, but had ultimately decided to seek out the alpha, if nothing more than to just tell him he has a pup. He deserved to know. It was why he didn’t hide the truth from him on Tython.

He could have lied. He could have easily claimed Vira as someone else’s.

No, he couldn’t have, he thinks as he stares at the pup seated on the floor between his legs, pushing Grogu’s ball back and forth. He runs a hand over the unruly, thick curls that were messily pulled back into a bun. She looks up at him with those deep, dark eyes. She’s practically a carbon copy of Boba.

A clone.

She grins up at him, cheeks dimpling. That was his, or at least he thinks so. He’s never actually seen Boba smile.

Despite the grin, she looks tired. He knows she has to be, just looking at her. Fennec had been right, calling her squirmy. She’d always been wild, always been on the move. He’d constantly heard it when he returned to the covert. She’s smart, but she can’t sit still.

Normally she would have been all over the ship, exploring, getting into things. A chord of fear runs through him for a moment, something he hadn’t thought of in the whirlwind since they’d been taken. He knew the Empire needed Grogu for some sort of experiment they were doing.

What if they did something to her?

There wasn’t anything they could possibly need from her. Unless they tested something on her? He wouldn’t put it past Gideon to try and make him pay for taking Grogu not once, but twice.

He can’t fight it, the building anxiety deep in his stomach. He feels like he’s spiraling out of control, like a ship about to crash. Vira’s smile falls as she senses the distress welling in her bearer.

Din jumps as a hand lands on his shoulder. His fists close around the fabric of his pants, trying to steady himself. Boba is kneeling next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy.” Boba soothes him, gently squeezing his shoulder. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“What...what if Gideon did something to her?” He asks, looking down at Vira who is watching them cautiously.

“We can’t know for sure that he didn’t.” Boba says, turning to look at Vira. “How do you feel, ad’ika?”

She shrugs. “Okay. Sleepy.” She rubs her eyes.

“See,” Boba says, helping him stand. “She’s fine. You need rest. Both of you do.”

Din leans down, lifting Vira into his arms. Boba was probably right. They couldn’t know if Gideon did something to her. If it was anything of consequence, they’d have to wait and see if anything happens. He doesn’t want anything to happen. The thought of something happening to her because of his own recklessness has his stomach churning. He feels like he could be sick.

“Come on.” Boba leads him forward with a hand on his back. “We’ve cleared out the upper rooms. Most of it was empty. Seems like most of them fled when Jabba died. Fortuna managed to keep a skeleton crew. We’ve cleared out most of them.”

“I should be helping.” Din says, trying to distract himself from the panic building within him.

“You can help by resting.” Boba says, leading him up the steps. “Like I said, this is the easy part. I need you at your best when the real fight begins.”

**********

Despite his exhaustion, Din lays awake in bed. The sheets are clean, having been brought up by a droid, along with a clean change of clothes for Vira. She had fussed through a bath and dinner before Din let her sleep. The new clothes were a bit big, but they worked. He’d need to pick up some supplies soon. Everything he’d owned had been destroyed.

Din had taken a bath himself after Vira finally fell asleep. He was used to going long periods without being properly cleaned, but it felt nice to wash off the last few days. The worry still lingered, but in a way he felt like he could force it all down, forget the horrors that had gone through his mind.

His helmet sits on the ground behind him. He hadn’t been able to relax enough to take all his armor off. What if they had missed something? He can’t take that risk. Not right now. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to put the helmet back on. Not yet.

He scoots closer to Vira, letting the soft scent of pup invade his senses. He hadn’t done it often, not since he left her with the covert. He presses his nose into her hair, letting the gentle scent flow through him. It’s the best scent in the world, or at least he thinks so. The scent of a pup before they begin developing traits, before they present. So soothing it could loosen even the most steeled beta.

The scent calms the raging storm inside him. There’s nothing off about it, no change to it. It’s purely her, just as he remembered it being.

#star wars #star wars fic teaser #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din x boba #bobadin

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otterandterrierwrites · 4 months

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otterandterrier’s 2023 fanfics

That's a wrap! Here's a masterlist of all the fics I posted this year. As always, thank you so much to everyone who reads, reblogs, likes, comments, kudos, bookmarks, asks, and does all the lovely things us writers thrive on. On to 2024! 🥂

Under starless skies we are lost [Han/Leia - RotJ, post-Jabba's palace, angst, hurt/comfort, rated T, one-shot]

Courting Princess Leia [Han/Leia - post RotJ, COPL fix-it, fluff, smut, rated E, two chapters]

Not quite dirty talk [Han/Leia - ESB, trip to Bespin, light angst, smut, rated E, one-shot]

wonderful unknown - Ch. 2 and 3 [Han/Leia - post RotJ, sequels fix-it, old married couple, fluff, rated T, multichapter]

To have and to hold [Han/Leia - post RotJ, TPATS missing moment, married couple, fluff, rated T, oneshot]

Pigment in your memory [Han/Leia - post RotJ, slice of life, fluff, rated T, oneshot]

hold me close, don’t ever let me go [Han/Leia - RotJ, missing moment, angst, rated G, oneshot]

Bloodburn [Han/Leia - post RotJ, married couple, light angst, smut, rated E, oneshot]

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in [Han/Leia - pre ESB, pre relationship, rated G, ficlet]

So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes [Han/Leia - pre ESB, secret relationship, rated T, ficlet]

if I stay here [Han/Leia - ESB, trip to Bespin, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, rated G, one-shot]

Some stats:

In 2023 I posted 28,752 words spread out in 11 fics, against the 30,448 words I posted in 2022 for 13 fics. I estimate to have written a total of 56k, though!

My top time period was post Return of the Jedi with 5 fics.

My top rating was Teen and Up, with only three smut fics.

My top genres/tropes were hurt/comfort and angst.

My average fic length was 2,614 words, with a majority of one-shots.

#hanleia #han x leia #star wars fanfiction #han solo #leia organa #my fanfiction #2023 masterlist

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wilwheaton · 2 years

Note

Hey, Wil, since I know you aren't out to hurt anyone, I wanted to shed some light on the "fat people being associated with evil" thing. I totally believe that in your lifetime, you've never heard this spelled out like that. But you've seen Dudley Dursley, Jabba the Hutt, Dennis Nedry, etc--and you know they're bad right off the bat because they're fat and sloppy. You've seen people like Trump ridiculed for their weight instead of the horrible things they've done. Whether you know it or not, you (and the rest of society) have absorbed messages that fat people are bad, corrupt, and unworthy of compassion. Which is why some take a dim view of memes that use the term "big fat x" in a pejorative context.

As I said to a previous person, thank you. I know you're not responsible for enlightening or educating me, but I appreciate you taking the time to give me information and context I didn't have before.

I'm having this epiphany about how unconscious biases are formed and then reinforced. I have some thinking to do, and I thank you for that.

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25centsoda · 2 years

Text

L&V Fic - Practice Trust

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41118447

Summary: On a trip to Tatooine ordered by his Master, Vader finds more than he expected in Jabba's Palace and brings them home. Takes place on the Executor after leaving Tatooine.

Excerpt:

Vader gripped Luke’s elbow gently, trying to help him avoid falling when his bare feet stumbled on the ship’s smooth floor. His son’s right arm ended in a scarred stump, where Vader had cut it off with his lightsaber in a fit of anger a year ago on Bespin. Guilt sat tight and heavy in his chest at the sight of it, though he chose to ignore it.

His son needed him right now.

Luke’s breathing was labored and shallow, but Vader could not provide him with the quick solution of bacta to ease his pain, much as he wanted to. The Executor was on a night cycle.

#star wars #fanfiction #luke skywalker #darth vader #mentioned Jabba the Hutt #he dead #hurt/comfort #angst #heavier on the comfort but Vader is out of practice as hell #escaping slavery #this fic is just the hurt/comfort the slavery and Tatooine are immediately proceeding the fic

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

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So I'm super sick, food poisoning, but I'm having ✨️ideas✨️

So it starts like this. Boba Fett is the galaxies most feared bounty hunter, talented and ruthless in equal measure.

And the Boba meets a girl. She's a bit plain, and doesn't travel much, but she's good. Good in a way that Boba feels that he has never been.

Boba falls, and he falls hard.

He never asks her to marry him, but their relationship is more than just physical. It's everything that he's ever wanted and she makes him want to do better. To be better.

And then he takes a job for Jabba the Hutt and he never comes back.

And she, heart broken, thinks that he died. Because Boba would never just walk away. Not from her.

And then she finds out that she's pregnant. And everything is so much worse, but also there's still a part of Boba in the galaxy and that's a good thing.

She carries and gives birth to his son alone. She names him Jaster, after Boba's grandfather.

And when Jaster is about three years old, she gets word that Boba's been alive all these years. And she spirals. Because Boba being alive means that he walked away from her, and that he never had any intention to come back.

For all that she's thrilled that he's alive, she's still hurt and angry.

And then Boba shows up on her doorstep, a little more worn, a little more scarred, but still Boba.

#star wars #star wars au #boba becomes a family man?

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ave09 · 10 months

Text

i know

han solo x reader

note: this one has to be my favorite. i rewatched esb today which is what inspired this

also, han looks so pretty in this gif like wtf

“whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

you felt his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. “just thinking, nothing important.” you replied softly. “everything you think is important.”

you scoffed, feeling han rest his chin atop your head. “so, what are you thinking about?” he asked again.

“well now i’m thinking about you.”

“i’m flattered.”

you smiled, “i’m thinking about you, and how things are going to be once this is over.” “what do you mean?”

“you said you had to go back to tatooine, to pay jabba. am i suppose to go back with leia and leave you? so much has happened so quickly han, it’s overwhelming.”

your life seemed to be a blur now. one minute you are in alderaan with leia, and the next, you were in hoth falling in love with the scoundrel that was han solo, and now you were here in cloud city, awaiting luke’s return and spending as much time as you could with the man you loved.

“you could always come with me to tatooine.” you wrinkled your nose, “i’m not the biggest fan of sand.” “well i’m not staying there permanently. i’ve just gotta pay off jabba, once i do that, i’m free to go wherever i want. you could come with me.”

it sounded nice. exploring the galaxy with him. you’d give anything to live that life. but then you thought about your job, what you’d sworn to do.

“what about leia?”

“what about her?”

your hands rested upon han’s wrists, your thumbs caressing his skin, “i swore an oath to the senate. i can’t just leave.”

“says who?”

“says the oath i swore.” you let out a forced laugh. han lifted his head, slowly turning you around to face him. “leia is strong. she can handle herself.”

“i know, i know, but, i don’t think i can just leave.”

“i’ll put in a word with the princess. she’ll let you go. and if she doesn’t, i’ll find a way. you’re gonna be free, sweetheart.” his voice was stern, convincing. he made you believe that you could be truly free.

and you were beyond thrilled.

“you’d really do that for me?”

“i’d do anything for you, darling.”

you smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. every kiss with han was passionate, magical even. never did you think you’d find someone who would make you feel so happy. and then han strolled into your life. he was the light in your darkness, and you loved him more then anything.

he pulled away, breathless, brushing a strand of stray hair behind your ear, “i love you.”

“i know.” you whispered, bringing your lips to his once again.

you were thrown back into reality at the sound of chewbacca’s cry. you glanced at him, the wookie was thrashing against the stormtroopers, trying to fight. he wasn’t going to let his best friend die this way.

“chewie!” that was han. tears stung your eyes as the severity of the situation suddenly became clear.

“chewie stop! this won’t help me now!” the wookie let out a loud groan, you didn’t understand it, but you could tell he was hurting.

“hey! listen to me! i need you to look out for her, okay? that’s your job now, okay!” chewbacca stopped his fighting and stilled, allowing the stormtrooper to place cuffs upon his wrist.

you averted his gaze, extending your wrists as the soldiers clad in white armor placed the restraints onto your wrists.

“sweetheart, look at me.” you choked back a sob. “look at me, please.” he begged. and so you did, you slowly glanced up, locking eyes. “you’re gonna be okay.” he assured.

“not without you.”

there was silence as he shuffled toward you, leaning down, kissing you hard. it was a lingering kiss, one that neither of you wanted to end.

but then he was ripped away from you, being pulled toward the freezing chamber. suddenly, overcome with a burst of emotion, you called out, “i love you!”

his reply was immediate, “i know.”

your chest rose and fell with heavy breathes as you tried to remain composed. but you found it more and more difficult to remain collected as you watched him sink down into the chamber, a cloud of smoke covering him.

you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out shakey breathes. “did he survive?”

you held your breath as you waited for lando’s response. you prayed to the supreme maker, you needed him to be alive. you couldn’t lose him.

“he’s alive. he’s in a hibernation.”

a wave of relief washed over you. he was okay. he was alive. chewie let out a guttural groan. you pried your eyes open, feeling tears slip down your cheeks as your eyes fell upon the slab of carbonite on the floor, the outline of the man you loved etched into it.

the last encounter before this horrid event replayed through your mind.

“once i do that, i’m free to go wherever i want. you could come with me.”

“you’re gonna be free, sweetheart.”

“i’d do anything for you, darling.”

“i love you.”

“i know.”

#han solo #han solo x reader #han solo imagine #han solo fanfic #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford #young harrison ford #empire strikes back #chewbacca #lando calrissian #star wars #was tearing up while writing this for some reason but i’m proud #princess leia #luke skywalker #leia organa

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ryehouses · 1 year

Note

Boba PoV request (now they have thier own special fic and all) anything to do with his pool / bath / oasis please 😍

OHO ASK AND RECEIVE, MY GOOD FRIEND, YEAH I'VE GOT SOME STUFF FROM BOBA'S FANCY TATOOINE JACUZZI.

i also have been really good about revision this week, so i do have a different pov set up to post in the queue once a day for the next week or so, thank you all for your patience, i love you, et cetera et cetera.

this snippet is set during chapter 19, "pirun," and features some flirting, some introspection and some ~~boba angst. enjoy!

in which a conversation has more edges than usual.

Din took to the bath like a karking colo claw fish took to a pond full of minnows. He teased Boba a little about the extravagance of building a bath like this first, of course – apparently, Din’s people didn’t believe in indulgences, but Boba’d learned a bit about Din’s people these last few weeks, and he’d decided that he didn’t particularly care what they thought anyway.

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought, surrounded on all sides by warm water. This bath – a pool, really, a little oasis that Boba had carved carefully out of the depths of the palace, once he’d managed to get rid of the scum and sludge that Jabba had left behind – was fed by the palace’s aquifer, the water clear and clean. It was naturally cold, like most of the oases that dotted the Great Dune Sea, but Jabba’d been a creature of expensive tastes and he hadn’t thought twice about installing temperature controls beneath the pool to warm the water to his liking.

Boba hadn’t liked Jabba much, but as he swam deeper into the pool, warm water lapping at his sides, he couldn’t help but agree with the old worm, just a little.

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure. A little bit of comfort.

Cleaning the artificial oasis up had taken some time. Jabba’d done his best to make it a perfect replica of a weekoona, a Nal Hutta wallow. The smell, after said weekoona had been locked up and left alone in the five or six years between Jabba’s death and Bib Fortuna’s, had nearly knocked Boba back on his shebs, the first time he’d opened the door.

Now, though, the pool was closer to what Boba could remember of a wahat, a Tusken oasis. Dappled light softened the edges of the room and Ushib had gifted Boba with long mashoo reeds and a few hardy tamur trees, hardy thorntooths and even a long, trailing safi tree. Now the room smelled of clean water and growing plants, damp and earth and safe.

Boba swam out into the middle of the pool, confident that Din would follow him. When he reached the center, Boba stopped swimming and stood, the water lapping against his chest. The bottom of the pool was textured, so Boba didn’t have to fight to stand. The warmth eased some of his old aches and pains, took pressure off of his sore knee; Din had tackled Boba pretty hard last night, and while it hadn’t hurt at the time, adrenaline and the fierce joy of a good night blocking out something as insignificant as a bruised knee, Boba was too old now to wake up the morning after a spar spry and free of pain.

Din kept swimming, circling Boba easily. He didn’t struggle in the water, which was a pleasant surprise – Boba hadn’t been sure if Din knew how to swim. Mandalorians in general didn’t have much use for it. Mandalore’s waters had been poisoned for a long time, and swimming in beskar was difficult at best.

But Din, always a surprise, could swim well enough to circle Boba, his shoulders working smoothly in the water. Boba was content to stay where he was and just watch Din. Watching Din had become something of a hobby.

Another indulgence, Boba thought wryly.

Despite the flogging he’d taken last night, Din moved easily. Out of his armor, Din was pale. He’d started to get a bit more color on his face and his neck, now that he went around the palace without his helmet sometimes, but the rest of him was usually hidden from the suns. He never left the tower that housed Boba’s rooms without his beskar’gam.

Like Boba, Din was mostly made up of scar tissue. None of Din’s scars were as extensive as Boba’s – Din, at least, had not ever had the bad karking luck to end up in a sarlacc’s mouth – but he still had more than a few. Some of them, like the shiny, pink weal of a blaster burn scored across one of Din’s biceps or the white, straight slash of a knife against Din’s ribs, were easy to identify. Others, like a tangled knot of scar tissue underneath Din’s right shoulder or the uneven web of raised skin on the outside of one of Din’s thighs, were harder to guess at.

For a man who’s always covered in armor, he’s got a lot of ink, Boba thought. Din had all manner of faded tattoos, most of them softened to a bluish color with time. Boba liked tracing them almost as much as he liked tracing Din’s scars. Din didn’t tolerate the contact well outside of a flogging, but after a flogging he leaned into every touch, and seemed to like the repetitive motion of Boba following each branch of the wroshyr tree tattooed around Din’s bicep or the bui’tsad symbols on his back.

“Where’d you learn how to swim?” Din asked, still cutting gracefully through the water. Ripples lapped at Boba’s belly, his chest, as warm as a hand. “Not here, probably.”

Boba smiled. Tuskens didn’t swim, even though most of them had at least on oasis on their tuskbal. Even tribes that had rivers moving beneath their sands stayed out of the water.

“No,” Boba said, weighing his answer in his head. He hadn’t brought Din down here with the intention of talking much.

It’s Din, though, he thought. Getting Din to talk about anything was a bit like trying to get a krayt dragon to give up its pearl. If he wanted to talk now, Boba could probably put up with a little discomfort. Maybe talking a little would put Din at ease, make him easier to persuade later. Boba’d come down here with a few ideas for how he’d like to spend the rest of the morning, but all of them were indulgent and Mandalorians like Din, as a general rule, treated indulgence like most other beings treated a live concussion grenade.

No, talking to Din here wasn’t going to hurt anything. It might even help deepen the trust between Din and Boba both.

Despite that, Boba hesitated. He’d learned to swim the same way he had learned most things – from his father. Boba never talked about his father, not if he could help it. Jango Fett occupied a peculiar place in Boba’s memory. Boba’d call it a scar, like the ones decorating Din’s back and sides, the scars on Boba’s hands, the back of his neck, except scars were wounds that had healed, and what had happened to Jango never had.

It’s not like Djar’ika means any harm, though, thought Boba. Din was looking at him expectantly now, his face open and honest and utterly without malice. He didn’t know what he was doing, prodding at old, raw wounds. Din had trusted Boba with a lot, these last few days. He had followed Boba into the water. Boba could trust him with this. It’d only hurt a little. The wound was old enough.

“No,” Boba repeated, tucking his thoughts away in favor of watching the long lines of Din’s body. “Not here. I – the planet I grew up on was an ocean world. Kamino. Ever hear of it?”

Predictably, Din shook his head. He hadn’t slipped all the way under the water yet and Boba kind of wanted to reach out and dunk him, just to see what kind of face Din would make when he surfaced. He held off, for now.

I can always dunk him if this conversation gets too serious, Boba thought. I brought him down here to have some fun, after all.

“The entire planet was water,” Boba said, reaching back through his memory for Kamino. His home world – in so much as he had one – was always there for him, easy to reach and touch and recall. Salt air, driving rain, the stark hallways of Tipoca City. A rumble at night that could have been Jango’s voice or a peal of far-off thunder.

“It – I didn’t learn how to swim in the ocean,” Boba continued. The water had always been too rough. Boba could count the number of calm, clear, sunny days he’d seen on Kamino on one hand.

Din didn’t interrupt. As always, his rapt attention – the way that Din looked at Boba, wholly focused, like Boba was a star that Din orbited – made it easier to talk to him than it should have been.

“There were too many storms,” Boba said. If he closed his eyes, he could still see them. Thick, heavy clouds and gashes of lightning. Rain drumming down on the walls like soldiers marching. “But my dad thought that I should learn, so I did. There were – training facilities there. Kamino trained soldiers. They could conjure up just about any environment that you could imagine. Dad taught me how to swim in a pool like this one.”

Boba gestured at the room around them. The mashoo reeds rustled, stirred by a current of air moving from one room to another. He could remember one of his father’s big hands pressed against Boba’s chest, then small and thin and unscarred. Jango’s voice as he held Boba’s head out of the water.

“He’d turn the bubbler on when I got bigger, so I could practice swimming against resistance.”

Swimming lessons in beskar’gam probably would’ve followed, if Jango had lived. He’d wanted to prepare Boba for anything. Being able to swim when most other beings had expected Boba to sink like a karking stone had been pretty useful, over the years. Jango’d been oddly prescient like that. He had known that the galaxy was not kind and had tried to anticipate anything and everything that Boba might have come up against.

Except for the sarlacc, Boba thought, pulling away from the wound in his heart that was his father. Nobody could prepare for the sarlacc.

“Oh,” Din said, floating now instead of actively swimming, bobbing just out of reach. The bruises from the flogger curled around his shoulders, his hips. Boba wanted to touch them. “I think I learned how to swim on my home planet too. I remember… hands. My father’s hands, I think.”

A pang went through Boba’s ribs at that. Din’s voice was soft. He spent too much time underneath his helmet to hide what he was thinking or feeling, and Boba could track his memories as they flashed across his face.

His home world? Boba wondered, curious. He’d never asked Din where he’d come from. Boba had assumed that it had been Mandalore, or one of Mandalore’s outpost worlds. Concordia, maybe, or Kalevala, since Din had known Bo-Katan Kryze.

An odd sense of kinship, of likeness, itched underneath Boba’s skin. He wasn’t sure he cared much for the feeling. Boba was used to being – singular. Genetically he was one of millions, but no one was like Boba. Fennec was like enough that she and Boba understood each other without words, but Din –

He’s Mandalorian, Boba reminded himself, sternly. I’m not. We’re not – we might share some things in our pasts, but we’re not the same. Boba needed to remember that. He needed to remember that Din was his own man, that what he wanted and needed wasn’t the same thing that Boba wanted and needed.

We can help each other, but I need to remember that this – the closeness deepening between Boba and Din with every passing week, the affection that grew and grew in Boba’s chest, the way he’d felt looking at Din last night, after Din’d slammed his forehead into Boba’s chin, their blood mingling together – is an arrangement, for Din. He’s here to get what he needs. He’s not here to – to –

“Our village would flood during the rainy season,” Din continued, still swimming. Boba wrenched his thoughts away. Thinking about what Boba couldn’t have was likely to open another wound in his chest, and Boba had enough of those already. “When the rains passed, we’d swim out to the fields and look for anything that the rains had left behind.”

So he’s not from Concordia, then, Boba thought. That moon had been almost as barren as Mandalore. “Where are you from?” he asked, curiously.

Din shrugged. “I don’t remember,” he said, and Boba could see the honesty in his face. Din had just about as much guile as a baby tooka, which was to say that he had no guile in him at all. It was – refreshing. Charming, though Boba was still doing his best to avoid thinking about Din that way. Din wasn’t trying to be charming. He was just trying to be himself.

Don’t take more than you’re being offered, shabuir, Boba reminded himself. He had a responsibility to Din. Din was trusting him to uphold it. Had trusted Boba, with his vulnerability. With his pain.

“Somewhere in the Outer Rim, I think,” Din said. He shook his head a little and gestured at the water. “The older warriors kept teaching us kids how to swim whenever we lived somewhere that had enough water.”

Boba could understand that. Not every aliit had been welcome on Mandalore in its waning days, in the days of Satine Kryze, and fewer still had been welcome after Gar Saxon had sold the planet out to the Empire. Many clans had been forced into hiding.

Twenty years ago, when Boba’d been younger – angrier – he’d been almost pleased, about that. He’d never had anywhere safe to lay low for longer than a month or two, not after he’d left Kamino for good, not after Geonosis.

Why should any of the cowards who abandoned my dad get to be safe? he’d thought at the time.

Now, though, Boba looked at Din – at a Mandalorian – and wished that Din hadn’t been forced to leave his homeworld, wherever it had been. No kid deserved to grow up the way Boba and Din had grown up, always on the run.

Kark, Boba thought. Maybe I did go soft, in the sarlacc’s belly. Maybe the acid had eaten away more than Boba’s hair, than the skin across his shoulders, the backs of his hands.

“You live in a lot of places?” Boba asked, curious despite his better judgment to learn just how similar a childhood he and Din had had. Din had a lot of the skills that young drifters tended to pick up. He spoke several languages. He flew ships with ease. He ate quickly and always cleaned his plate. He was skittish, sometimes, and when Boba flogged Din out of his own head Din was skin-hungry and shy, uncertain, like he half-expected to be shoved away instead of pulled close.

“Yeah,” Din said, easily enough. He wasn’t shy or uncertain now, was comfortable in Boba’s presence, and Boba counted that as a victory. “Did you?”

He’d swum farther away than Boba wanted him to be. Boba pushed off of his feet and followed, parting the water easily. Din, sometimes just as playful as he was shy, didn’t move away.

“Yes,” Boba said honestly, after thinking about it for a moment. He’d lived across half of the karking galaxy, really; after Geonosis, the longest Boba had stayed in any one place had been the year or so he’d spent in prison.

“And no,” he added. “Mostly I lived on the ship, once I got it back.”

Hyperspace had been safer for Boba than Tatooine or Nar Shaddaa or Corellia. When he hadn’t been able to pass days in a hyperlane, sailing from one side of the galaxy to the other, Boba’d spent weeks anchored in asteroid belts, leaving only to earn enough credits for the next meal, for the next canister of hyperfuel.

Din bobbed a little closer, his expression thoughtful. He looked better, these days. When he’d first come back to Tatooine, Din – Djarin, then, an ally but nothing more – had been worn and haunted, his face thin and pale and creased with pain.

A few months of Ushib’s cooking had filled Din back out, and he was at least sleeping some. He’d slept in Boba’s bed last night, his body warm and familiar. Boba himself was a light sleeper, but he hadn’t felt Din so much as twitch last night.

Din had even cut his hair at some point, the ends of it now damp and clinging to his neck. These days he looked less like a stray akk dog and more like a treasured massif, sleek and powerful and always ready for a hunt.

Looking at Din made affection bloom behind Boba’s ribcage. Affection was dangerous. Was too close to what Boba had felt for Din last night, looking at him across the makeshift sparring ring, too close to something that Boba didn’t have a name for, didn’t know what to do with, didn’t know how to use.

But Boba couldn’t quite manage to make himself crush that feeling of affection. Pulling away now, he thought, would hurt Din. Boba didn’t want to hurt him.

Din, catching Boba looking at him, blushed a little, color creeping down his neck, across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Boba had traced that blush with his tongue last night. He wanted to chase it again.

“What?” Din asked, dipping his chin deeper into the water.

Boba smiled. “Nothing,” he said. As much fun as it would be be to reel Din in, to call him Djar’ika, to kiss him, Boba had come down here with an idea of how he wanted to spend his morning, and it was probably safer than letting himself entertain ideas of – of intimacy, maybe, with Din Djarin.

Affection was one thing. So was fondness. But anything deeper than that –

Anything more, Boba thought, is outside of what we agreed.

So Boba said, “Nothing,” and flicked a bit of water at Din to reassure him. The urge to dunk Din all the way in the water rose again. “I’m just thinking,” he said. The tips of Din’s ears, still above water, stayed stubbornly red.

Din had been willing to try just about everything that Boba had suggested, so far. Boba’d brought a few things down from his rooms. He’d had an idea last night, after the flogging, as he’d been soothing Din, carding his fingers through Din’s hair. As Din’s beard had scraped roughly against Boba’s face.

He’s been willing to try everything, even a flogger, Boba reasoned. He’d probably be willing to indulge me in this, too.

“I’ve got something I’d like to try, if you’re interested,” Boba said. He kept his tone light, trying not to spook Din while the other man was naked and slippery. This pool was a big one – if Din decided to be hard to catch, Boba would be after him for a while.

Din didn’t bolt, but he did narrow his eyes. “What is it?” he asked.

Boba grinned. He’d never guess. “Trust me,” he said. “You’ll enjoy it, I think.” So far Din had only enjoyed a bit of pampering – a bit of care – after Boba had literally beaten him into submission, but Boba held out hope that Din’s indulgence would extend even this far.

“You just need to wait here for a minute,” Boba added. He’d brought a shaving kit down with him, just in case. It wasn’t that Boba thought that Din needed a shave. That Boba had minded the rough texture of Din’s beard.

It is, Boba thought to himself, honestly, that I think he’d get off on being underneath a knife, if I was the one holding it, and I want to see if he trusts me that far. If he’ll surrender that far.

Din had been vulnerable to Boba before. He’d let Boba wrap a hand around his throat. He’d let Boba bring a flogger down across his back. Had let Boba kiss him, and touch him, and fuck him, and sleep beside him. But letting Boba hold a razor to his throat –

Boba’s heart sped up just thinking about it. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what Din looked like. He wanted to know what Din would let him do.

Din’s expression was wary, but Boba knew him well enough now to catch the glint of desire – of curiosity, which was just as dangerous as desire – in his eyes. Din lifted his chin out of the water, throat flexing, and said, “What is it?”

“Just trust me,” Boba said, still smiling. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and honestly he did like it when Din got a bit nervous beforehand. Those nerves made Din’s surrender, when it came, even sweeter. “You’ll enjoy it,” Boba said again, because Din would. So far Din had loved letting Boba have his way; he’d melted into it every time. “You just need to wait here for a minute.”

Din scowled a little, annoyed that Boba hadn’t answered his question, but even here he was willing to trust Boba. A thrill of pleasure, heady and dark and as smooth as papuur’gal, licked against the bottom of Boba’s ribs.

“Fine,” Din said, his curiosity winning against his caution. “I’ll just… float here, then.”

Positive reinforcement had so far been the trick with Din, disarming him just as effectively as a blaster bolt to the wrist, so Boba said, “Ori’jate,” and told Din to stay put in the middle of the pool while Boba himself swam back to the edge of it.

The water was still warm. In quieter times, Boba’d like to come down here and just float for a while, his eyes fixed on the pricks of light high above the pool. Maybe after they dealt with the Hutts he could come down here and float. It would be nice to relax.

He didn’t want to leave Din alone for too long. Boba rarely was apart from Din these days, just like he was rarely apart from Fennec, and if he was being honest with himself, Boba didn’t mind. It was good to have people that he could trust – that trusted him – close at hand.

He stepped out of the water when he reached the edge of the pool and quickly prepared what he would need. Boba – like Jango – was traditional. He didn’t use Kashyyyki clippers or depil cream to cut his hair or trim his beard and never had. He’d used a straight razor since he’d become a man and still used one, even though now, after his stay in a sarlacc’s belly, Boba didn’t have any hair on his head and could only grow his beard in patches.

Getting ready took only a minute, maybe too, and then Boba was back in the water. Anticipation made it easy to set some of Boba’s thoughts, some of his doubts, his wariness about letting Din get too close, about getting to close to him in return, aside.

Boba swam back to Din, who was now floating on his back in the warm water, moving just enough to stay afloat. His belly and chest didn’t have as many bruises as his back did. Near his hips he still carried faint, crescent nail-marks, where Boba had taken him by the hips. A bruise spanned part of Din’s side where Boba’d crashed into him while they had wrestled. But that was it.

Boba wanted to leave Din with a few more bruises. Wanted to run his tongue over a silvery scar at the bottom of Din’s ribcage, to press a kiss to the pulse Boba could see jumping in Din’s throat, wanted more.

I’ll start small, he thought, almost near enough again to touch Din.

Din, sensing that Boba was near again, righted himself, turning to face Boba. His expression was open and relaxed, trusting; some of the stress Din had carried with him over the last few weeks – kark, last night, when he’d returned from Mos Entha without finding his kin – had been worn away.

Desire cooled in Boba’s belly. There was no reason to rush anything. Din didn’t need to be devoured right here, right now; Boba could take his time.

“Enjoying yourself?” Boba asked, crowding into Din’s space. Din righted himself, standing up again, water sloshing between their bodies, but didn’t pull away.

“It is nice,” Din admitted. He blinked at Boba, his expression still open. If they’d been up in Boba’s rooms, Boba might have called him cyar’yc. Sweet. At their closeness Din’s expression faltered, some of that shyness or that wariness kicking in, but Boba didn’t want Din to pull away and reached out to stop him. He took Din by the chin, loose enough that Din could pull away, if he wanted to, but tight enough that Boba could feel Din’s pulse leap against his thumb.

He kept that thumb against the corner of Din’s jaw, his palm against Din’s chin, and tucked his fingers against Din’s throat. Din’s beard tickled Boba’s skin. Like Boba, Din had bare patches here and there, skin smooth where no hair had grown, but unlike Boba, Din’s face was mostly free of scars. The only one he had was that line between his eyes, only really visible up close.

Din had split his face open against another Mandalorian’s helmet, he’d said. A mirshmure’cya. A brain-kiss.

Warmth lit up Boba’s belly. He told himself that it was just the water.

“What are you doing?” Din asked, though he didn’t fight Boba’s hand.

Boba smiled at him. “I’m thinking,” he said. He tilted Din’s face to the side, still gentle enough, and Din let him. Din’s wet curls clung to his cheeks, to the nape of his neck, to his forehead, and his skin was warm and damp.

“About?” Din asked. Boba felt his pulse pick up, hammering harder against Boba’s thumb.

Din and Boba had promised each other honesty, when they were together like this. Boba knew that they’d blurred some of the lines between them, had started to spend perhaps too much time in each other’s company, had started to fail to keep their arrangement separate from their feelings, from their lives, from their business together, but here in this warm pool, fed by fresh water, decorated with rare plants, a testament to Jabba’s indulgences and to Boba’s too, since he’d restored the karking thing, Boba couldn’t bring himself to care much about how bad of an idea this all could turn out to be. How close he’d let Din get. The knife that Boba had put in Din’s hands and aimed at Boba’s belly.

Life, he thought, in the desert is hard. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure.

Boba told Din the truth. “I think,” he said, looking Din in the eye, “that I want to kiss you.”

#ast asks #ast 'verse pov tag #boba: i'm normal i'm normal i'm normal all of this is normal

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