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lincolndjarin · 5 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty eight : a place for us

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 8.4k

summary : the not so secret happily ever after.

warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore

a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.

☆

You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him.

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on.

You haven’t had sex.

Not since everything happened.

You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work.

You just want to do something nice for him.

He does everything.

He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg.

Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking.

So you try. All day.

Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.

“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you.

“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings.

“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach.

“You’re not.”

“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck.

“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice.

You wait a moment in the silence.

“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again.

“I swear to the Maker-”

“Okay! Sorry!”

Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax.

“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there.

“You’re sure?”

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?”

“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.

“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you.

☆

You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.

Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy.

Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days.

You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree.

So you have to compromise.

At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing.

The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now.

The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults.

The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council.

It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you.

It’s different.

It’s happier, it feels safer.

It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it.

And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester.

You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up.

You’re just so kriffing horny.

Morning, noon, and night.

Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done.

If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you.

Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use.

It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester.

You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile.

“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy.

“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”

“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy.

“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him.

“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg.

“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently.

“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

“But-“

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready.

You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts.

He took a lot of showers.

And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change.

You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh.

You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked.

So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you.

For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge.

You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall.

Without his helmet.

You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about.

His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft.

“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”

“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day.

You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.

“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.

You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly.

Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought.

You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs.

“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.

When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference.

You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top.

Maker, maybe you are showing.

You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip.

“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs.

“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”

“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?”

“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter.

“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer.

“No, you just relax today.” Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house.

“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head.

“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“

“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look.

“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug.

“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.”

“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink.

“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom.

“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle.

You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago.

The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines.

“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work.

You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself.

Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.

He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave.

“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down.

“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod.

“Perfect.”

Except it isn’t perfect.

The bastard remained unconvinced.

And you remain frustrated out of your mind.

He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to.

Princess,

Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty.

He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats.

The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved.

She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring.

Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished.

Love, Lysa

You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls.

“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes.

“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks.

“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look.

“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice.

“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”

“Fifty.” You shove his arm.

“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor.

“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin.

☆

When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur.

You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you.

You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point.

By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you.

“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure.

“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it.

Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before.

“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.

“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is.

You stay in his lap.

Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.

You fall forward into him, and he flinches.

He never flinches.

You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours.

“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.”

“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off.

Silence.

Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not.

“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning.

“Din that has noth-“

“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”

It makes you want to cry.

To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again.

“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.

You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect.

“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.

“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you.

“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing.

“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top.

“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“

“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.

“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.”

You do, terribly.

You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand.

“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you.

He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you.

He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat.

“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod.

“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper.

“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain.

“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you.

Has anyone ever told him that?

“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.

“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you.

You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes.

“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.

He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.

He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips.

He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with.

He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you.

“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy.

He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair.

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves.

He’s perfect like this.

Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more.

“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again.

It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months.

Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now.

You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.

He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin.

And you are more than happy to indulge him.

☆

The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could.

You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left.

With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it.

It’s seemingly a couple of things.

You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy.

When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.

But he’s timid.

And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often.

And then it clicked.

He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult.

You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about.

You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair.

“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”

“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.

“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it.

“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well.

“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands.

“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.

You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone.

“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?”

His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.

“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands.

“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”

“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not with me.”

He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.

“Of what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy.

He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes.

“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.

He chews the inside of his cheek a bit.

He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.

“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you.

“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”

A pang of sorrow hits your heart.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now.

“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”

“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.

“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.”

“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.

“You talk to him all the time.”

“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck.

“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his.

“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”

“What else should I tell him about?”

“Anything.”

He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.

“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.

“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”

“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips.

You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read.

He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach.

☆

Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world.

The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.)

A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand.

Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.

Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.

“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him.

You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him.

When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes.

He is just a little copy of your riduur.

Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.

“He’s perfect.”

You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you.

Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.

☆

You go on a lot of walks.

It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.

People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.

He really does.

He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.

Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)

You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus.

And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him.

He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours.

You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life.

You finally found your peace.

Your freedom.

Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it.

Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race.

You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth.

You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again.

Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns.

On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing.

You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure.

You endure for Din.

You endure for Grogu.

And you endure for Arin.

Din always says he was born to love you.

You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father.

Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood.

That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside.

“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.

He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers.

“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.”

He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you.

He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.

“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you.

“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress.

“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.

“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease.

“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth.

You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room.

Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes.

“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy.

“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear.

Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead.

“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead.

“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep.

You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace.

“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump.

“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.

“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other.

“I love you.” He mumbles.

“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time.

And you go to bed.

In your perfectly sized bedroom.

On your perfectly sized mattress.

With your Din.

☆

a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.

i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

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lieutenant-teach · 1 month

Text

Being a pro-Jedi fan is super hard.

Stumbled upon a scientific paper ‘The Psychgeist of Pop Culture’ (2024) about ‘The Mandalorian’ and ‘The Book of Boba Fett’ series. It’s divided into many smaller research by various PhDs. The Boba chapters are actually very good.

And then there’s ‘Fatherhood and male emotions’ chapter. About Jedi. About attachment. The authors Keely Diebold and Meghan Sander, PhDs, are claimed as Jedi fans.

Good start. / s Bad enough Din Djarin is called ‘Djarin’ as a name throughout the whole paper (my own pet peeve about the dick move of Favreau and Filoni in the end of Season 3 which is a decision to criticize in itself). Of course, Obi-Wan wasn’t a ‘good father figure’ as claimed by Lucas himself. Neither was Bail Organa. /s

Yeah. Hypocrisy. Hey, ‘Jedi fans authors’, have you actually watched the movies? Sigh. Seriously, ‘the intergalactic therapists’ who were trying to help Anakin to cope with his emotions so much, working with ‘cognitive therapy’ – they suppressed emotions. I just… don’t have any coherent thoughts about that bullshit on the screencap. And – now we defend Palpatine. Just great.

By the way, rewatching Indiana Jones movies, I paid special attention to the moments when someone of the team is left behind and the main characters continue chasing the enemies (just like in the mentioned scene in AOTC). And it’s never presented as ‘left behind and forgotten, heroes don’t care about them’.

What is evident to me is that this all is a piece of banthashit. Mandos with the suppression of emotions – I agree. Jedi? When one of their main proverbs ‘feel, don’t think’?

‘His own interpretation’? It’s not! Why did the authors decide that’s what happened? The point is that Anakin is taught ‘compassion, which … [is] unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life. … we are encouraged to love’ by the Jedi, but acts in the way he wants regardless. Screams in the plush Grogu How do people manage to watch obvious in messaging children films with their ass holes?

Frankly, I suspect that these ‘Jedi-fans’ authors just don’t understand and didn’t even try to explore the meaning of ‘attachment’ in Star Wars – it’s not ‘a deep and enduring emotional bond that connects one person to another’, it’s ‘selfishness’. They never tried to google Lucas’s interviews, but only used books about child rearing. This is why we have all this crap in a ‘scientific paper’. I firmly believe that @david-talks-sw, @writerbuddha, @kanansdume, @antianakin, @smhalltheurlsaretaken and other fans could write a whole paper about Jedi and attachments – and this would be real in-depth analysis of the Jedi and Star Wars.

And a rotten cherry on the top of this shitcake I noticed just before publishing – using ScreenRant as a reference not the smartest move, really.

Now how can a reader trust your judgment if you use fucking ScreenRant as a proof? Ah, no, they cannot (see this whole post).

#star wars #jedi #pro jedi #attachment issues #the mandalorian #star wars prequels

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months

Text

Beskar Doll - Ch. 1: Faceless Man

You're in trouble. Again. And the only person who can get you off world? A Mandalorian bounty hunter. Chapter Master List. AO3. Overall Master List.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: None yet! No use of Y/N. Whole piece is violent and smutty so minors? DNI. 18+ ONLY.

Length: 3.9k

A/N: Hi all! So the first 30 chapters of this are up on AO3 (linked above) but I plan to post about a chapter a day here until I'm caught up. Read along at whatever pace brings you joy on whatever site brings you joy! I'm just too lazy to post all the existing chapters here in one go, so we're spreading this out a bit. Thank you so much for reading! I love you all!

6 ABY - 3 Years Ago

Your father, you were certain, was being paranoid.

His eyebrows had been knitted together for days, a perpetual frown on his hardened but handsome face. He had never been paranoid before, though. Worried, sure. You don’t end up baking in the desert suns of Tatooine after fleeing your home during galactic civil war without worry. Worry you could deal with. But this? This was new.

“We’ll find someone who can take you off world,” he said, more to himself than to you, his fingers knitting together on the cantina table. He was wearing his best clothes, some of the last he had left from your years on Naboo, hoping that looking like he had money would get someone to take him seriously. But the once fine garments were washed out and worn, the cuffs tattered and elbows threadbare. Anyone looking closely would see through him. “Once you’re away from here, you’ll be safe…”

“I’m safe here,” you put your hands over his, thumbs running over his knuckles. “You’re over reacting…”

“No,” he shook his head, voice firm. “You don’t know what beings like that will do, you’re too young to remember the worst of the Empire…”

“I remember plenty,” you cut him off. You’d meant for your voice to be soothing but instead it sounded impatient and harsh. “This is nothing like that…”

“No, you’re right,” he snapped. “This is worse. They’re not coming for us or our planet, they’re coming for you.” You rolled your eyes and fell back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. With any luck, the bounty hunter who the friend of a friend told your father might be willing to take on some “questionable cargo” wasn’t even on planet. Soon, you could make the trek home and put this stupid spaceport trip - and your father’s paranoia - behind you.

“Darling girl,” he said, Bothese comforting after being surrounded by Basic. “Your mother and I cannot lose you. We have to do everything we can to protect you…”

The cantina went quiet and your father did too as he looked past you to the entrance, following the eyes of everyone else in the bar. He swallowed, hard, and you twisted to see just what had caught his attention. In the door, blotting the light from the street beyond, was a man covered in armor. Your mouth went dry. You hadn’t been surrounded by faceless threats since the war and this tall, broad man was nothing if not a threat.

He looked around, analyzing the space like a warrior or a hunter. You moved slowly, cautiously - like an animal trying to not become prey - to put yourself between this man and your father. The faceless man was large and your father hadn’t been well in years. You would survive a hit from this man - or you thought you would, at least. Your father might not.

The man spotted you, turning his attention to your table and the rest of the cantina picked up where they left off - relieved to not be in his sights. Your spine stiffened. You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

But when he approached your table, he didn’t touch you. Instead, he stood in front of you, armor sending spots of light splashing onto the walls. He looked behind you, like you weren’t even there, down toward your father at the table.

“You needed transport,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” your father almost jumped to his feet before gently moving you aside, offering a handshake. The masked man didn’t take it. Your father stood there, awkwardly, for a moment before dropping his hand. “Yes, my daughter needs transport off world.”

You fought to not disagree with him in front of this large man, but you did give him a look all the same. Was he really going to send you off with this stranger? One whose face you couldn’t see and who looked like he could snap you like a twig?

“Where?” The man asked. You looked closer at him, trying to place the armor. He obviously wasn’t a stormtrooper - though the familiar unease you had when looking at one was there.

“Across the galaxy,” your father said quietly. “I’d rather you not know until you were both far from here.”

“I have other jobs I’m committed to,” he shrugged and turned to leave. For half a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. That you could go home. But your father was persistent.

“Good,” he said quickly, grabbing the man’s armored arm. You watched his reaction carefully. The man moved quickly at first, like he was responding to a threat, before catching himself half a second before you intervened. He looked slowly from your father’s hand to his face. You weren’t sure if your father even noticed, desperate to convince this man to take you away. “That’s good - better, in fact. It will make her harder to trace…”

“I don’t move fugitives,” he cut him off.

“She’s not,” your father said quickly. “She’s not in trouble with the law, it’s not that. There’s… She’s being hunted.”

You rolled your eyes as the man looked at you. You couldn’t see his eyes through the darkness of his visor but you could feel them on you, assessing you.

“He’s exaggerating,” you said. “I upset the wrong people…”

“There’s no bounty,” your father said quickly. “And no warrant. She just isn’t safe here. Please.”

The man looked back to your father.

“Across the galaxy comes at a cost,” he said. “And I can’t promise it will be quick.”

Your eyes widened a bit as you tried to hide your shock. The way the conversation had been going, you thought you’d be back home before too long, not one foot onto a faceless man’s transport.

“We can pay,” your father practically dove into the bag at his hip, pulling out a hunk of shining metal and holding it up as an offering. The man stood still for a second, looking at the metal, before taking it with a sense of reverence. You frowned as you saw it next to his helmet as he examined it. The chunk in his hand was rough but it was obviously the same material. “Please, it’s all we have left but it’s yours…”

“I’ll take her where she needs to go,” the man said, putting the metal in a pouch at his hip before turning to you. “Meet me at the Razor Crest, at the port. We leave in an hour.”

You watched the man leave before turning back to your father who sank into the booth. He looked resigned, his face firm.

“Father,” you shifted to Bothese, the first language he taught you after Basic, taking the seat across from him. “We don’t have to do this. I don’t want to do this. I want to stay here. You and Mother are all I have left, I can’t… Please. Don’t ask me to start over, not again. Or at least come with me…”

“We would be nothing but a risk to you,” he smiled sadly. “And I’m not sure your mother could survive it even if we could. Darling girl, it is our job to keep you alive. That is more important than me, her or our life here. The only way is if you leave. And you will leave, you can’t make us lose another child.”

It was a low blow. You were sure he had been saving it, a secret weapon to force you onto the vessel. Your mother’s health had been fragile since you’d come to Tatooine just over two years ago. Losing you to another planet would be hard, but losing you to death would be impossible.

“OK,” you said quietly, switching back to Basic. It didn’t feel right, accepting leaving what remained of your family in Bothese. “I’ll go.”

You sat in the cantina a while longer, pretending things were normal. You would miss this place. It wasn’t home exactly but it was familiar. That familiarity was hard won. You hadn’t expected to feel comfortable anywhere again, like you could let your guard down. It had taken more than a year of living on this planet to get there but you had and now you were leaving it behind.

If you’d doubted finding familiarity before, you were even less hopeful now. Without your family, you’d have nothing to hold onto, nothing to put down roots with. You’d felt lonely for a long time but to be truly alone was something else entirely.

Even though you walked slowly to the spaceport and found the hanger, it felt too fast.

“Mando!” A hanger worker called, running over to the ship as the armored man came down the ramp. You frowned, suddenly realizing why you recognized the armor. Mando. Mandalorian. Your father was shipping you away with the member of a religious cult that worshipped weapons. After all you’d done, all you’d seen…

“Father,” you put your back to the ship and lowered your voice. “This is a bad idea, Mandalorians…”

“Live by a creed and he said he would transport you,” he cut you off. “They’re unmatched warriors…” “He’s for sale,” you hissed. “Creed or no…”

“This isn’t the rebellion anymore, Darling Girl,” he brushed back the hair that had come loose from the knot on your head. “For sale is a good thing. He’ll get you there.”

You nodded, swallowing the tears threatening to break through. If you started crying now, leaving would be worse. Your father smiled sadly before pulling you into his arms, holding you to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Never forget how much we love you,” he said softly. “Be safe.”

“I’ll come back,” you said. “I’m not abandoning you…”

“No,” he stepped back from you, his hands on your shoulders. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Go out, live your life. Find happiness. You deserve that much. We never should have asked so much of you. We should have known it would have been different for you than it was for your mother…”

“I love you,” you changed to Bothese for what you hoped wouldn’t be the last time. You couldn’t bear this conversation. You’d rather never have it at all than have it now. “So much.”

“I know,” he kissed your forehead.

“Time to go,” the Mandalorian had appeared behind you, making you jump. You weren’t sure how someone so large and covered in metal could move so quietly but he managed it. He paused, looking down at you and your father. He turned to leave but seemed to think better of it. “I’ll get her there safely. You have my word.”

Your father gave him a grateful nod before the Mandalorian took his leave.

With a final squeeze of your hands, your father handed you the only bag you’d be starting your new life with. It was odd, holding all you had left in your hands. You tried to memorize his face, making notes of the lines around his mouth, the flecks of gold in his irises, the freckles across his cheeks. Neither of you could bring yourselves to say goodbye but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the ramp, resisting the urge to look back. There was no point in longing for what you could not have.

The ship was old, that was clear, but well loved. The Mandalorian obviously cared for it. You wondered if the ship’s age was necessity or a tactic. Surely other bounty hunters and New Republic patrols alike would underestimate it at a glance but you knew your ships. This one was solid.

“You should strap in in the cockpit for takeoff,” the Mandalorian appeared behind you again, sending your heart to your throat.

“Do you do that a lot?” You asked.

“Do what?” Even with the modulator he had a pleasant voice, soothing and even. It irritated you. You didn’t want to like anything about this man.

“Sneak up on people.”

The modulator picked up a puff of air.

“Yes.”

You glared after him as he stalked off to climb the ladder to the cockpit. You found what seemed like a safe nook to stash your bag, making sure nothing in the hold would shift and crush it when you launched, and followed him into the cockpit.

It wasn’t large but you’d flown in tighter spaces - one of the many things that came along with serving someone trained as a fighter pilot. The Mandalorian was already in the captain’s seat and the only other option was beside him. You sighed, taking your seat and buckling up as he started pushing buttons on the dash. You watched his launch sequence, trying to memorize it. You were far from the most skilled pilot you knew but you could get along in a pinch. You liked knowing at least how to operate the ships you were aboard - it felt safer that way, gave you a sense of control even when you didn’t have it.

You took one last look out at the hanger, your father still standing where you left him. You raised a hand, even though you know he can’t see it, bidding him farewell. You left it up as the ship rose off the ground, sand swirling, until the hanger was out of sight, not even a speck in the sea of yellow-orange that made up Tatooine.

“Wow,” you whisper, gazing down at the planet. The color was vibrant, a bright swirl below, taking focus to notice the variations that indicated the rise and fall of the dunes, the settlements that managed to survive the harsh climate. It was hard to believe you weren’t there anymore. That you’d ever been there at all.

“What?” The Mandalorian asked after a moment. It took you a second to realize that you’d spoken aloud.

“Oh,” you said, glancing over at him before looking back at the planet. “I just… I’ve never seen Tatooine from space. Any desert planet from space. I hadn’t really thought about how different it would seem…”

“You aren’t from here,” he said. It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway.

“No.”

“How didn’t you see it?”

“I just…” You paused. You remembered the disorientation of waking up there, a world you’d never touched, body throbbing with pain that threatened to put you under again, the sound of your mother sobbing. “I didn’t see it when we came in and I haven’t been off world since.”

You could feel his eyes on you again, silently evaluating you. You hated it.

“Where am I taking you?” He asked eventually. “Across the galaxy is a big target.”

“Dantooine,” you said, pulling your eyes from the planet you’d tried to call home to look at the armor-clad man beside you. He nodded slowly.

“It will be a long trip,” he said, punching in coordinates on his navi. “I have some pucks that need fulfilling.”

“I’m in no rush,” you sank down in the chair with a shrug. “There’s nothing waiting for me there.”

He looked back over at you. His gaze was unnerving. The helmet set you on edge, the total coverage too close to the armor of a stormtrooper. They were faceless killing machines, beings designed to inflict as much pain and death as they could wherever they touched. Their uniformity made them inhumane, distanced them from their victims in a way that made it so they could mercilessly slaughter innocents. Whole planets had been lost to the Empire at the hands of faceless men. You didn’t like being so close to this one.

“Is it safe for me to go to the hold?” You asked after a moment. He looked at you. “I don’t want to be on the ladder if we’re jumping.”

“You’re safe,” he said after a moment. You gave him a stiff nod and went below, leaving him to input your route.

***

There was something off about his new… cargo. Din didn’t like not knowing what was going on his ship. When he picked up a bounty, he knew who they were, what they’d done and who was willing to pay. It was simple. You were another story.

A contact had told him to seek you out at the cantina. Well, not you, exactly. An older Naboo man willing to pay well for a cargo run. The contact he trusted. Mostly. But the lead seemed good and it was better to pick up some cargo here than run empty handed to start hunting again, especially if the cargo wasn’t on a time crunch. He wasn’t expecting the cargo to be human.

He’d nearly turned it down, but the desperation on the older man’s face made him give in and when he saw the beskar, he couldn’t say no. He’d almost reconsidered when he saw you both at the hanger again, but something your father said made him bite his tongue. “We never should have asked so much of you.”

He didn’t know a lot of Naboo but they’d never struck him as the type to force things on their children. Your father obviously loved you. It puzzled him.

He wondered, idly, if your family had been powerful Imperials. The Emperor had been from Naboo, and if you’d been shipped off to Tatooine on some fancy cruiser, of course you wouldn’t have seen it as you landed - too busy lounging in your finery. He scoffed. Maybe someone had learned what you were and were hunting you down. Why else would you be going across the galaxy when your home world was so close? If he was right, you’d deserve it.

He finished programming the navi, almost purposely picking the puck that would take him further from Dantooine, not closer. If you were Imperial, he’d still fulfill his contract. He’d given his word and he wouldn’t go back on it. But he wouldn’t have to make it easy on you.

Eventually, he went down into the hold. He told himself it was to use the fresher and settle in for the night but, really, he wanted to know what you were up to. If you were Imperial, there was a chance you’d try to kill him. Small, perhaps, but it was there. He’d like to know it was coming.

It took him longer than he liked to find you. It put him out of sorts, not knowing exactly where things were on his ship, especially living things. On the rare occasions he transported people who weren’t prisoners, they stuck to sitting on a crate, in the copilot’s seat or in the galley. You, however, had folded yourself into a nook between crates, hiding you from view. If it hadn’t been for the heat signature, he may not have found you at all.

He approached silently, wondering if he could catch you in the act. He looked down at you from the top of the crates but you were almost disappointing. You’d taken your hair down since you’d come aboard, the curtain of it so long that part of it pooled on the floor around your hips. There was a data pad on your lap and you were looking at it intently, lips slightly pursed. The only indication that something was off was the redness in your eyes and a tear clinging to your lower lashes.

“What are you reading?” He asked. You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching the data pad to your chest. He snorted.

“Maker!” Your body went limp against the crate before you turned your steely gaze on him. “Why do you do that?”

“It’s my ship,” he shrugged. “I can do what I want.”

“Yes, because that’s a good reason,” you rolled your eyes before unfolding yourself from the space between crates and standing up to look him in the eye. He was still more than a head taller than you - the top of your head would barely graze his chin if he pulled you against him.

“You found a hiding place,” he said, nodding to the cramped spot. He didn’t think he could sit inside it the way you did, his bulk too great. You were smaller, nimble.

“I like small spaces,” you said, sounding almost ashamed of it. After a moment you stuck your chin out proudly. “Not that it’s your business.”

“My ship, my business,” he shrugged. “I like to know where my cargo is.”

“I’ll stay in the hold like a good little bounty,” you glared at him.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he said, taking the data pad from you before you had the chance to stop him. He frowned. You hadn’t been reading at all. It was a picture. You were younger than you were now, probably a teenager. Your hair was braided elaborately and you were wearing something that looked almost impossibly soft to the Mandalorian. He wondered what it would be like to touch something that soft.

With you was obviously your family, your father’s arm around your waist on one side, the woman who had to be your mother on the other. There were two young men behind you, both in Naboo pilot uniforms. You snatched the data pad back before he could take in the rest. You clutched it to your chest, clinging to it desperately.

“No,” you snapped, your voice cracking. “You don’t get to take this from me.”

“Don’t worry,” he said cooly. “Wouldn’t want to steal whatever fond memories you have of the Empire.”

You looked so offended that, for a moment, he thought he might be wrong. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you flicked off the data pad and stared him down.

“Is there a reason you were looking for me?” You asked.

“We’re headed to Crait,” he replied. “Stay out of the cockpit.”

“Fine,” you snapped.

“We don’t have the kind of accommodations you’re probably accustomed to,” he said, voice still cold. “But there’s a sleeping mat you can lay out in here.”

“I’m a moisture farmer,” you glared at him. “I’m not exactly used to luxury.”

“You weren’t always a moisture farmer, were you?” He said. It was the first time he’d asked you a question but it was obvious he didn’t expect a response. He didn’t know how he was going to get you to Dantooine without killing you. Imperials were responsible for the devastation of his people and his planet and now he was carting one clear across the galaxy - an annoying one at that. You didn’t say anything but your glare was watery. “Didn’t think so. What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?” You snapped.

“I like to know what I’m hauling,” he replied.

“Liska,” you said after a moment. He paused.

“What name were you using when you took that picture,” he asked.

“You can’t take that from me, either,” you replied.

He looked at you for a moment. He couldn’t research you without a name but given the state of archives from the Imperial era, he’d probably be out of luck anyway. Liska might be a pile of bantha shit but it was something.

“Sleeping pad is in the cabinet next to the fresher,” he said. “Try not to sleep where you’ll get crushed.”

With that he stalked off, leaving you alone with your memories.

#fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #the mandalorian #smut fic #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x female reader

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regarding-stories · 5 months

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The dark abyss that is Andor

There were several things that led to Andor.

On the one hand, Disney screwed up its Star Wars intellectual property by handing it to complete hacks for Episode VII to IX, leading a potential cash cow to attract less and less viewers over the course of three increasingly bad installments. Seriously, The Last Jedi is one of the worst disappointments I've actually watched, and not only was I thinking "This can't get worse..." every five minutes only to be proven, "Yes, it can!!", it completely killed my appetite to see IX (and I would have left the cinema at that one's sheer stupidity). With VII, I saw it once with some initial excitement in a cinema when it released and a strange feeling afterwards, and I never revisited it. VIII I saw on two separate long-distance flights because I couldn't stomach the thing in one sitting. IX I didn't see at all, but devoured YouTube videos ripping it apart. Clearly, Disney had a Star Wars problem.

The other thing is the reboot that was The Mandalorian, especially season 1. The Mandalorian had a penchant for not very strong logic in its writing that you still accepted because you had so much damn fun and loved the characters. Given the fact that it clearly pulled lots of viewers into Disney+ that were loving its vibe that was true to the core of Star Wars, Disney management saw the fact that theaters and theme parks were closed due to COVID on the one hand and that big Star Wars movies were at risk of actually losing money on the other hand, and they did what executives are wont to do - they decided that if it worked once, it will work again and declared they will pump out TEN Star Wars series in the near future.

Meanwhile they cancelled also their ongoing series of "A Star Wars Story" movies that started with what could be called "Episode III.5" - Rogue One. Rogue One was plagued with production problems, so much so that seeming key scenes from the trailer weren't in the movie. "I rebel!", anyone?? Still, it turned out to be something new - a new kind of Star Wars story. It took the idea of a war movie (or its modern equivalent, Band of Brothers) and put it into the Star Wars cinematic universe. It did without an actual Jedi (kinda-sorta) and it showed a strong performance of Diego Luna as the morally gray Cassian Andor. And... (spoiler alert) ... it killed its whole cast in its finale.

I know people that say Rogue One is their favorite Star Wars movie. (But other people dislike it.) I hold it in high esteem. The way the resistance is portrayed also seemed to be somewhat subversive - both to its previous image on screen and to what is portrayable on screen for mainstream audiences in general. It became clear that unlike in the original three Star Wars movies resisting an empire is, on the ground, a dirty business and not just about big battles or commando raids. (Which then happen anyway. Because Star Wars.)

Then followed the lackluster Solo and the third installment Yoda was never made as Star Wars increasingly lost its ability to draw crowds into seats.

And thus it came to Andor

Now what do you do with a character that (spoiler alert? really?) dies. You make a bloody prequel. Which is funny. Andor is a prequel to Rogue One which is a prequel to A New Hope. Prequels, like sequels, carry the risk of rehashing the original material without adding anything to it (Solo ...) and being trapped by the inevitability of what has to happen next, curtailing its writing (Kenobi ...). But Andor season 1 betrays none of that. (Talk about being addicted to prequels, Disney...) It is a strong piece of cinematic art in its own right.

And yes, I'm saying art. About a Star Wars series. That's how I feel about it. Andor not only has strong execution, it has depth. It was a show that made me pause it and think about what just happened on screen. It's a show that gets deeper if you know about history, unlike most shows that actually reveal their shallowness to the knowing eye. (Looking at you, The Man in the High Castle. Boy, I hated that tripe.)

But even before we get into that, let me say how I impressed I was with its set and costume design. Whereas the Book of Boba Fett gave us cyberpunks on floating scooters, Andor poured a lot of heart into how everybody looked in their various environments, creating a more rich and varied Star Wars society by portraying various strata thereof, from the life of imperial senator Mon Mothma to the middle class living literally in her shade somewhere on the middle levels of planet-city Coruscant to the mining town labor class that we find Cassian in. It flawlessly cuts between different well-thought out locations, including, of all things, a holiday resort.

This is paired with some very strong performances by similarly strong actors. I mean, we all knew Stellan Skarsgard would deliver, sure. But Denise Gough absolutely kills it, acting-wise. Her delivery as a villain is perfect, the way she manages to always look so sour and annoyed already is quite something, how she normalizes evil into a technocrat career. Every flinch of her face conveys books of information to me as the fascinated viewer. She is at the heart of this series, and worth the price of admission alone.

And let's not forget Andy Serkis' heart-rending performance. Really, we're being spoiled. People are seriously acting, not just standing in front of a camera wearing costumes! In Star Wars!!

And yet, if it was only that, it still wouldn't have impacted me as deeply as it had. There's one more layer to this, and it's the massive bottom of the iceberg that is Andor. I haven't forgotten, even though I'm writing this a year after watching it.

(And definitely spoilers from here on onwards.)

Life under fascism

The second half of season 1 however can put deep horror into any thinking person's mind. It radically departs from previous portrayals of the evil Empire. It's not relying on cheap gimmicks like Episode VII where we see a village razed by the First Order. (So evil. So cliche, too. Also murdering Max von Sydow. Tsk, tsk. They had to get him off stage before any good acting happens...) Andor creeps under our skin and then reaps havoc.

(This part of this entry will become increasingly dark. You might not want to read on. Because fiction is one thing, and comparing it to historical reality is another. This is an actual trigger warning. Proceed with care.)

The first half of the season is standard fare, almost. Cassian gets himself in trouble and there is really no redeeming quality about it. He also gets everybody else into trouble. The Empire in its heavy-handed hurry to eradicate resistance actually creates it in the first place. And still... the lack of compunction about torture, about going victim by victim, vanishing people into its torture cells, breaking them... this is merely an overture. No hero is born here, but evil wears its mask imperfectly.

Cassian escapes his small world to eventually live the good life on a resort world, getting laid, pretending to be someone else. Instead of being caught as the fugitive and murderer and partisan he actually is by now, he simply gets caught up in the arrest of somebody else. The way the Empire "perpetrates justice" not only gets him arrested while having done no wrong (in that cover identity), he also gets sentenced by a court that doesn't even pretend to actually care about due process in any way. There's a machine of oppression, and instead of competently catching him, Cassian becomes caught up randomly in one of its many gears.

And while this may seem random, it's brilliant. It's one of the many reasons why resistance exists. Because the Empire's overreach is everywhere, grinding up people just living their lives while trying to perfect its control. The corruption of the desire for power leaks through in its banality.

What follows is Cassian's imprisonment, and this segment is brutal and horrifying on a deep level. The more you know, the worse it gets. Cassian is transported to a prison facility where he's forced into repetitive labor to make equipment for the Empire. There's a set of steps every labor team has to execute, and the team with the lowest quota gets punished with electric shocks. Day after day.

This is "Vernichtung durch Arbeit." ("Destruction through labor.") This is what the Nazis did to their political opponents. Before there was a Holocaust, there were concentration camps. And prisoners were made to work - the cynic motto across the gate of Auschwitz was "Arbeit macht frei." ("Labor sets you free.") People would gradually be ground down until they gave out in one way or another, fell sick, die of exhaustion, broke psychologically. The series never tells us its "inspiration," it just goes through similar motions. With the veneer of a super-clean techno prison over it.

Not only that, the very scene reminded me of what I read in a book about the Holocaust. Towards the end of the war the engines for the new secret weapon jet planes or rockets were manufactured by prison labor. Crews of malnourished prisoners would each execute a few pretrained steps and crank out more jet engines in slave labor than was previously done in the Reich's armament factories. This was the culmination of the Nazi system where all labor-intensive things like the bunkers of the Atlantic Wall or the underground factories of Dora-Mittelbau were erected by and on the back of slaves that were themselves gradually killed in the process.

Without ever breathing a word of what is portraying, Andor portrays the same. Skillfully, horribly so.

The devil is in the details

Some way into this horror, everybody gets their sentence doubled. The counter simply goes up. No explanation. Total helplessness in the face of total control. The deep gut feeling of "No one gets out here alive" or "It will never end" begins to descend. That number was a sort of life line for people to brave another day. And it lies!

As unbelievable as it may seem, people did get released from concentration camps, especially those on "lighter charges" like "antisocial behavior." But nobody really knew how long they had to stay or if they were to be released. Often, initially told they had to do 3 to 6 months depending on their conduct, and yet most people never left alive. A quick read in a book behind me says that 8 million people were sucked into the system, 7 million died, 200,000 left by being released by the system itself. The idea you might be released one day added false hope that in itself could create further psychological torture if it was dashed over and over again.

Then there is the "divide and conquer" approach to prisoner management. Work crews are led by other prisoners, rebellion and resistance is quelled within the ranks. This Andor merely hints at, but the Nazi oppression system skillfully created hierarchies to make sure a comparatively small detachment of guards could handle a large mass of inmates which could overwhelm them if acting together.

But it doesn't stop here, not in Andor, either. Eventually we learn that the Empire starts to eliminate the prison population. Rumors start to spread that an entire floor of the super prison was eliminated by electrocution. Just like the real Nazis the space Nazis start to construct yet another death machine to eliminate opposition.

And this leads to that sub-plots final chapter, the prison revolt. There are a few historical mass escapes, even from Nazi death camps. There's also the heroism of the two uprisings of Warsaw (including the ghetto uprising). Left with nothing to lose, left with nothing but death ahead, the prisoners overwhelm the guards.

And this happened in real life, too. It's probably based on the historical case of the death camp inmates that were forced to run the gas chambers and crematoria themselves. This is part of the Holocaust itself, the Nazis had finally dropped all pretenses and resorting to kill people in an industrial manner. And these people knew that eventually their whole detachment would be killed. They knew too much, were witnesses to this massive crime against them and humanity itself. They were also among those destined for death. Like in an antechamber of hell itself they were merely bidding time. So they managed one of the few mass escapes on record.

While Andor doesn't stray as far down the road as actual history does, it knows how to cite history for those who know. It's not made up of whole cloth. It actually is referencing the real history of the most inhumane version of fascism, but it does not put the fact in your face. But if you know, its chamber of horrors becomes so much deeper.

And that's why

This is what makes Andor an absolute masterpiece. It recreates the conditions without blindly copying the source. It adapts, but you can feel how deeply inhumane the circumstances are that it depicts. It gives you the bloody creeps, and even if you don't know how much it is rooted in darkness, you will still feel it. It shows. It tells. But it never spoils the source material.

This is art. This is the deep craft. The banality of evil, the careless, uncaring attitude of evil towards those it deems unworthy and not human. It's all on display. It switches us into the place of Cassian and of Andy Serkis' character as it draws us in as audience. We don't see what happens on other floors. We don't have the information advantage. We can only imagine. We are subjected to the fact that we can only imagine it. And so we share a bit in the plight of these characters. Sometimes not showing a thing is the highest accomplishment of movie making.

And this is why I'm pissed that a series that was planned for five seasons was already cut to play out in two. Because we need more of this and less of more Jedi doing backflips. Just like Loki plays on a completely different level than the rest of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Andor leaves all of Star Wars in its dust. If Rogue One was the attempt to tell a different kind of story in the same universe, Andor is the attempt at a different level of depth.

And this, more than Rogue One, makes it clear why they fight.

Watch it if you can.

And sorry if I horrified you.

#andor #andor series #cassian andor #rogue one #star wars

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thewriterowl · 5 months

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Chief Editor Luke Skywalker makes a foolish lie to help protect his employee, Din Djarin, from losing his job. Both hoped to brush it off with some minor inconvenience but, instead, find themselves going to Din's home to "celebrate" their engagement with the very large Djarin clan.

Trapped in a quaint village where everyone knows everything, sharing a bedroom, and needing to pretend they are happily in love when Din hates his boss with a passion (and said boss being a bit more soft and odd than expected) it feels like a disaster is waiting to happen. Only, in a strange turn of events, rather than things unraveling, it feels like pieces are falling into place a little too naturally.

(Or, AKA: The Proposal AU)

Final chapter is up! Untimely Business is complete! :D Hope you all enjoy! It was a fun experience. A nice little sorta break from the seriousness of my other writings. I honestly really liked this one int he end to the point I was tempted to write more lol

Not quite sure what is up for next Saturday's update! I hope something even like a little sexy one-shot in Sinful as I work on the bigger things. But we shall see!

Thank you all for the support of this fic and look forward to whatever comes next!

#star wars #the mandalorian #dinluke #luke skywalker #din djarin #untimely business

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talesfrommedinastation · 7 months

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My redneck neighbor Doug reads my fanfiction for 'The Bad Batch'

Proverbs 11:2 “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”

I made the gross error of telling Doug that I was writing a novel length fanfiction crossover of The Bad Batch and The Expanse. It's here if you'd like to take a gander yourself.

A massive fan of both, Doug practically hooted with joy when I mentioned it at a barbeque. So, like a dumbass, I sent him a link to the fic, thinking he’d wax praise on me.

I had forgotten how aggressively irreverent this man is. I was in for a beating.

Hint: I quickly sketched this up and sent it to Doug asking if this is how he imagined Tech and Sjael Drummer in the story. He said yes, and was ECSTATIC. I'm 99% sure it's on his fridge now. Next to @amalthiaph's piece of course.

CW: It's Doug, he's not child friendly. Y'all should've figured it out by now.

They're looking at me like 'We're a clone commando genius and a pilot with a Ph.D in chemical engineering. WTF is this hillbilly shit?"

Anywho, here’s the delightful exchange we had after he finished up the current chapter:

Doug: So, lemme get this straight. We got a nice pretty Belter scientist-engineer, Sa-Jail Drummah, –so the lady’s a space Cajun. She got an undercut, tattoos, some Indian blood in her, and a crazy bitch sister who was in the Navy! Yup, pure Gulf Shore girl, got it. Sa-Jail’s a chemical engineer, I bet she got her degree at USM* like a good gal. And she meets Ryan-from-Accounting, who is a space redneck, because the boy’s a Mandalorian clone. And they’re all out camping, nice. It’s a white trash love story in space, awesome. Love it.

Me: It’s not a white trash love story in space, DOUG.

Doug: Oh, it ain’t? Let’s see here…the first time the boy meets the girl, she’s setting up a shitty perimeter fence around her trailer in the woods and he holds her up at gunpoint in the middle of the night. That’s some bayou romance right up in there. Did she show him her shrimping boat after that?”

Me: …that is true. No shrimping boat, but he joins her on a hike the next day.

Doug: Taking a girl out into the woods to show her what a rough rugged redneck you are! That’s classic white trash mating rituals right there. I’ve seen it in action my whole life, I know it when I see it. Did the boy talk about his guns?

Me: No, but he does talk about his time in the armed forces and his brothers. His guns are in his backpack.

Doug: Guns on the first date? Seriously. And bragging about your time in the USMC is like, the first thing a redneck does to impress a lady besides talking about his truck and his smoker and how much he goes to church. This is real redneck courtship happening in this story. Oh, and the part where they finally start banging?”

Me: (takes deep breath) What about it?

Doug: First of all, my wife, she loved that part!

Me: YOU READ THIS TO YOUR WIFE?!**

Doug: Well, yeah! She loves a good romance and we had a long drive that day. Anyway, Sa-Jail had just been bitching about her ex-oyfriend, or was it ex-husband?

Me: Ex-fiance.

Doug: Same difference. Anyway, Toby***–clearly named after Toby Keith like a good Southern man–left her for some other chick after he joined the Navy because that’s how the Navy man rolls. Just like Toaster Strudel's daddy. Wasn’t Toby a pilot? Yup, sounds like an average day in Pensacola to me. Flew his Blue Angel to different poon. Then, Sa-Jail, well, she needed somebody else to wash her mouth out, per se.

So, after knowing the man for what, two or three days, she flings herself at Ryan-from-Accounting and they proceed to hump like coked-out rabbits all over her trailer. And in TRUE Cajun fashion, Sa-Jail is so impressed by Ryan-from-Accounting’s pipelaying skills that she makes him DINNER. And what does Ryan-from-Accounting do that any self-preserving redneck man would do with a woman he just started dating?

Me: Enlighten my Yankee self, Doug.

Doug: HE CALLS ALL HIS HUNGRY RELATIVES OVER TO JOIN THEM FOR THEIR FIRST DINNER TOGETHER. Which they all enjoy outside the trailer! Cookout style! Nothing says ‘redneck romance’ like ‘Hey sugar, you and me just started getting serious five minutes ago, now HERE IS MY WHOLE FAMILY. FROM MY BROTHER CLAYTON THAT JUST GOT RELEASED FROM ANGOLA TO MY COUSIN CAROLLYNN WHO HAS FIVE BABY DADDIES. ALSO WE ARE GOING TO CHURCH TOMORROW AND GETTING CRACKER BARREL AFTER THAT SO GET A NICE DRESS OR MEEMAW AND MY AUNTIES WILL JUDGE.”

Me: Jesus Christ, Doug, that is not what happened.

::Doug screenshots my longfic and sends it to me and I am deceased because he’s not exactly wrong::

Doug: And of course, Sa-Jail is a good Cajun woman, just rolls up her sleeves and feeds everybody because that’s how the bayou babe do. The rest of the story might as well be called ‘Real Housewives of Space Slidell’ for all of the white trash shenanigans that follow. Let’s see here…there’s knife chasing, screaming, someone gets pregnant out of wedlock, a fist fight while someone’s driving, lots of guns, tattoos, motorcycles, a cowboy bar, a hot Southern nurse, lots of cussing, baby daddy drama, biscuits and gravy, Navy veterans, Ryan-from-Accounting’s various brothers from different daddies show up and they all want food and a place to stay, hooch-making, pimp-slaps, more guns…this is a real Cajun-Redneck tale of love. With spaceships. It’s great!

Me: I’m speechless, Doug.

Doug: Jenny loved the scenes where they cross a river with the motorcycle and then they do the nasty next to it. That’s 10/10 on the redneck Was Ryan-from-Accounting playing ‘Fishin’ in the Dark’ in the background on his phone, too?”

Me: I AM GENUINELY SPEECHLESS, DOUG.

@eyecandyeoz, did he do a good job capturing the essence of the story? LOL

---------------------------------------------------------------------

*=In Doug’s defense, University of Southern Mississippi has an incredible department regarding chemical engineering and specifically, polymer science. So he’s not far off.

**=I DIED, I’M DEAD, A GHOST IS WRITING THIS RIGHT NOW.

***=HIS NAME WAS NOT TOBY FFS.

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ladydorian05 · 8 months

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Rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Was tagged by @hippolotamus @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life, Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I seriously need to pick up the pace with my wips

Most hits Fic:

-When life tears you asunder, but you're not alone: (stranger things,

Max & Eddie, siblings dynamic) Co-written with @made-ofmemories Billy was a pretty shitty brother, there was no denying it, but Max still finds herself mourning for the sibling relationship they never got to have. With him gone she thinks so are her chances of ever having the big brother figure she’s always wanted. Then in a turn of events that she never saw coming, Eddie Munson waltzes into her life. Or more like, almost runs her over.

Most kudos: (The second one with most Kudos is also When life tears you asunder, so this is the most Kudos one)

-Too busy being yours to fall for someone new: Buddie Co-written with @made-ofmemories (we tend to enthuse each other with fic ideas and end up writing together a lot :3)

Natalia helps Buck pick a couch for his apartment, but when the wrong one gets delivered he starts to think maybe it's some kind of cosmic sign from the universe.

Determined to not let his best friend mope to death, Eddie decides it's time that he helps Buck find a couch so that he can stop associating a piece of furniture with the success or failure of his romantic relationships.

And he does, Buck finds the one.

Third Most comments:

Mornings in bed: (Ronance)

She’s an active person, a busy body, and her interests also demand for her to be constantly on the move, but she loves days like this when she can stay home. It’s cold outside, they’ll probably get the first snow of the season by next week, but she’s warm. She’s oh so warm laying in bed, there’s the weight of an arm around her torso and a leg draped over her hip. How can she feel anything but warmth when she’s in the arms of her Robin.

Fourth most bookmarks:

Kissing his neck: (The mandalorian, gn reader insert)

Kissing his neck and finding out he’s really sensitive there:

You’re both inside the cockpit, the baby peacefully sleeping inside his pram in the cargo hold, he just activated the hyperspace stretching his arms to the front and cracking his neck, when you noticed the strip of skin between his helmet and the high neck of his tunic.

Fifth most words:

A life in retrospection: (Kinsman, Agent Whiskey/Female reader)

He couldn’t believe this was his life now.

He thought as he watched, through a window from the inside of his warm home, as the snowflakes fell outside.

Couldn’t believe he was capable of feeling such happiness again, not after everything he’s had to live through.

A few years ago, he almost committed the biggest mistake of his entire existence, condemning millions of people just because of his trauma. Good thing a pair of gentlemen helped knock some sense into him. Literally. And god bless Champ for giving him a second chance, since then, his life had been filled with second chances.

Fic with the least words:

Eparavur takisit - Apologise: (Pure Angst, no comfort. Din Djarin/gn reader)

“No, no…no, no, please no. Cyare…Cyare please…” Din’s broken voice came through his helmet. “Please don’t leave me, please, I need you.” He knew in his mind you couldn’t hear him, not anymore.

No pressure tags:

@made-ofmemories @your-catfish-friend @diazblunt @loserdiaz @alyxmastershipper @crowleywasagryffindor and anyone who wants to do it!

#tag game #fic tag game #stranger things #buddie #911 #ronance #steddie #eddie munson and max mayfield are siblings #whiskey daniels x female reader #din djarin x reader

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

The Mandalorian and The Corellian

chapter three: the silence

pairing: din djarin x corellian!reader

warnings: NSFW 18+, getting caught in the act, arguments, angst, helmet comes off, me not knowing enough about the SW Galaxy lay out and guessing, soft!din ending

words: 5.6k

series masterlist

a/n: this wasn’t supposed to be posted until the eight but i have no self control, am impatient, and crave more validation. but this will be the last update until the 8th so that i can focus on my other series 🫶🏼 also, literally shout out to @awholelottayeehaw for managing to fuckin guess the whole plot twist in the last chapter’s comment section 🫡 i actually choked on my spit—well done brother in christ

You’d forgotten how good of a distraction and stress reliever sex could be, your dating pool in Mos Espa being bleak and driving you into celibacy. But here, with this strong man three times your size driving into you like his life depended on it, it reminded you of all the splendors of pleasure you’d been missing out on.

“Vero,” you panted his name as your nails clawed up his back, so close to the edge and yet so impatient. “Harder. Rougher. More.”

“Don’t want to break you,” he panted out through slamming thrusts, surprised that you not only could take more than what he was already giving you, but that you wanted it.

“I’m not a piece of glass—oh! Right there!” Your high was beginning to wash over you, just a few more thrusts and you’d get there. Just a few more…

“Y/N!” The two of you jumped at the sound of a third party entering your ship, Vero leaning over and covering your body with his. “Oh—I didn’t—I thought you were hurt—I—“

“Get out!” You shouted at the Mandalorian, your face turning red with anger and frustration. You were so close to forgetting about him. So close to feeling good after tonight’s drama. And of course, he had to come and ruin it all.

Mando rushed out of the ship, his head spinning with the sight of you naked and underneath another man. He wasn’t sure if it was concern, anger, or jealousy that weighed him down and made his blood feel hotter than all the suns combined, but something was affecting him. He stood outside the ship, pacing around the outside without much of a clue as to why he was lingering around.

He knew he found you attractive, but he found plenty of people attractive over the years. He didn’t think much of it, not until a few hours back when you publicly—and loudly—declared you didn’t like him. It hurt more than he thought it would. Tons of people didn’t like him, and it never once bothered him until the words were coming out of your pretty mouth.

Your smart mouth.

God, he hated the way you spoke so carelessly. Hated it because he longed to be like that. You were everything he was not—hot headed, careless, snide, fun-loving…beautiful. He was all carefully planned steps, seriousness, quiet, and level-minded (aside from a few run ins with the Jawas and droids a while back). You were nothing like him, and yet, there seemed to be an invisible connection between the two of you. Perhaps it was your lack of faith in the general population, or perhaps it was your shared feeling of not belonging anywhere—whatever it was, it tied his heart to yours even when his head ached with disdain.

“What the fuck, Mando?” You came out in just Vero’s tunic and boots, shouting and waking every sleeping creature in the woods.

“I heard a blaster-shot and came to check on you.” He tried to remain calm as he turned his eyes from your bare legs, his stomach feeling queasy as his mind flashed with images of them wrapped around Vero’s waist.

“A little late, don’t you think?” You snapped, scoffing at his excuse. “I don’t think you gave two shits about checking on me. I think you knew I was out here with Vero, and for whatever reason, you decided it would be fun to cockblock me!”

“You think I’d walk miles into a dark forest to come and ruin your night with the lumberjack?” He asked as he turned to you, his eyes narrowing inside his helmet. You nodded and folded your arms over your chest, remaining firm in your accusation. “What would I get out of that besides the vile image of you beneath him?”

“The satisfaction in knowing that I’m having a terrible night. Probably the worst I’ve had in a long time. And I lived in Mos Espa when the Hutts ruled. You can imagine the terrible nights I’ve had.”

“You didn’t sound like you were having a terrible time with him.” He countered, watching as you turned pink in the cheeks.

“I wasn’t. Until you came along and ruined it.”

“The two of you have been out here for a while now. Like you said…I was a little late. What? He couldn’t get you off in that time?” You furrowed your brows, every comeback and insult flying out of your head as you took in his tone. Was it darker? Deeper? Full of an emotion you couldn’t yet define?

“He was doing just fine.”

“And yet you’re out here screaming at me instead of screaming for him.” He stepped towards you, your feet stumbling as you stepped back. This surely wasn’t how you wanted him to make a move.

“Why don’t you go back to Omera?” You seethed, full of resentment with the knowledge that you’d always be second best.

“Maybe I will.”

“Good.” You shrugged.

“Good.”

“I can’t wait for you to leave.” You stepped closer to him, your body acting against your will.

“I can’t wait to be gone.” He filled the gap completely, your chests touching as you eyed each other, silently challenging the other to make the first move.

“Everything alright?” Vero poked his head out, his pants draped low on his hips, a cup of water in his big hand. Mando tilted his head at you without looking at the other man, and though you couldn’t see it, you could feel him smirking at you.

Stepping back from the Mandalorian, you nodded, hate-filled eyes remaining on his as you walked backwards to the ramp. “Yeah, I was just sending him home.”

“Have a good night, Mando.” Vero smiled at him and nodded his head, Mando’s eyes rolling inside his helmet at the man’s confidence. Though, he figured he’d probably feel just as cocky if it was him that had just been in between your thighs. “I’ll make sure she’s safe until the morning.”

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Mando walked off, tone thick with sarcasm as he listened to your giggles sound out in the silent woods. Time to find Omera.

•••

Morning sounds from the critters in the trees stirred you awake, your arms stretching out and a smile splayed across your face. Vero had more than made up from the orgasm you missed out on during Mando’s interruption, his warm body laid close to yours as you shuffled in the sheets. A smile cracked on his face when you looked over at him, his arm slung over your torso pulling you tighter to his body.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled at the sweetness that you were so unaccustomed to before climbing out of the bed and stretching your entire body. He sat up and watched you, a slight frown on his face as you went about your morning routine. “How, uh, are you feeling?”

“Good. I needed that.” You glanced over at him with a smirk, watching as he looked just the slightest bit relieved. “I forgot how fun one-night stands could be.”

“Right. One night.” He pursed his lips together and nodded, accepting the sting in his heart. You just now began to pick up on it—his disappointment in your casualness.

“I’m sorry, Vero. I thought I made it clear last night that I wasn’t in the position to rush into anything serious right now—“

“No, yeah. You did. You did. I just,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hoped you’d change your mind, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit your lip as you watched him climb out of bed and tug on his clothes from the night before, his eyes avoiding yours. “I had a really good time with you. Really good.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and remained cold as he slipped on his shoes, your breath hitching before releasing in a sigh.

“Do, uh, do you think I’m allowed to join you back at the village?” You asked, watching as he furrowed his brows at you in confusion. “You know, given the fact that the elders told me to fuck off.”

“The elders never said you had to leave. It was my sister and her friends. Said you posed a threat to the kids.” He watched as you scoffed in disbelief, your brows furrowing. “Did Omera tell you it was the elders idea?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and shook your head. “Yeah, she did.”

“Well, she lied.” He sighed and walked towards you, holding your face in the palm of his hand, his green eyes tender as they beamed down at you. “Stay here. With me. We can build a cabin in the middle of nowhere. It’s peaceful here. I killed the last threat around, remember?”

“Vero, I have loose ends I have to tie up. Need to go see my family. I can’t…I can’t just abandon my entire plan to stay here with you. Besides, your sister clearly has it out for me.” You shook your head as you reached up to cradle his face, eyes bouncing across his features. “In another life, I would’ve loved you. But…this isn’t another life.”

“I understand.” He nodded and begrudgingly accepted your rejection, moving away from you. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat before you head out.”

The walk back to the village was more pleasant than you thought it would be. It seemed after some effective communication, Vero had come around to understanding your lack of desire to stay here with him. Conversation flowed easily between you, and although you came from totally different backgrounds, there was a mutual understanding of one another. Unlike…

“Mando! Do you really have to go?” Omera’s daughter hugged Mando’s leg as you walked into the village along side Vero. When the Mandalorian spotted you, he felt like the wind was knocked out of him, your smile radiant as you avoided him completely.

“You really could stay. You both fit in so well here. You could be happy.” Omera stepped into his eye line and blocked you completely, a smile similar to yours splayed across her face. It was then that he realized they weren’t ordinary smiles of joy—they were of satisfaction. Din had brought Omera to the same peaks of pleasure last night that Vero no doubt brought you to. The thought of the two of you doing the same things he did with Omera making his fists ball up and squeeze. “We could be happy.”

“Omera, I—“

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Grogu tumbling over into a krill pond, no doubt having been trying to catch one in the process. He ran over to his kid and scooped him out of the water, Grogu crying as his father held him close.

“Is he okay?” She asked, rushing over and taking off her apron to wrap around the kid. Din sighed at her kindness, wishing it was enough to make him stay with her, but it just wasn’t.

“Yeah, he’s just scared.” He cradled the child against his beskar covered chest and avoided Omera’s eyes. “We’re not going to be staying, Omera. I’m sorry, it’s just…not the right time.”

“Will it ever be?” She asked, eyes tender and nearing tears. Din waited a beat before slowly shaking his head, her eyes falling to the grass.

“Omera!” Vero stomped over with you in tow, causing Din’s eyes to look up from the disappointed beauty in front of him. He took in the sight of you smirking behind your beast of a man, eyes narrowing at you through his visor. “Wanna tell your boyfriend the truth? Or should I?”

“Shut up.” She hissed back at her brother, shocking Din as he’d never heard anything but softness escape her lips.

“Alright, then I will.” Vero smiled widely as he turned from his sister to the Mandalorian. You avoided Mando’s eyes as you grinned at the grass, happy that Vero was about to air out his sisters lies right in front of the bounty hunter. “You remember how Omera told Y/N it was the elders idea for her to leave?”

“It was not!” One of the oldest women in the village chimed in, Vero sighing and closing his eyes in annoyance, rubbing his temples.

“Yes, nana. Thanks for ruining the suspense.”

“What are you talking about?” Mando asked, eyes flickering to Omera’s guilt-ridden face.

“My sister was the one who made the call. Convinced the other parents that Y/N was a danger to the kids. Then, she went and lied to both of you about it. Just so she could have you all to herself for the night.” He glanced over at his sister, now seething with rage. “Bet it worked too.”

“Omera,” Din stepped towards the woman he took his helmet off for, heart racing and stomach churning. “Is that true?”

“Yes, but—“

“Did you know about the raider?” Vero interjected, his arms crossing over his chest. “The one that nearly killed her?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Omera whipped her head over to Mando, reaching to touch his chest, but he shooed her hands away. “Please believe me when I say I didn’t know—“

“Doesn’t matter. Y/N nearly died because of your lie.” Din clenched his jaw, looking around at the entire village listening in on the drama before landing his eyes on you.

He felt like such a fool for letting his guard down completely to a woman who turned out to be just another liar. His lapse in judgement almost resulted in your murder, the thought making his head throb. Stepping towards Vero, you looked up out of fear that Mando would swing at him, but he didn’t. You watched as the Mandalorian shook his hand, thanking him for his honesty before moving him to the side.

Your eyes fell back to the ground, still not quite over the events of last night. Just because he was now realizing that his dream girl was a liar didn’t mean that you were just going to forgive him and jump into his arms.

“Y/N,” Mando sighed and reached to touch your shoulder. You shrugged it off and lifted your eyes to his, still seething with anger towards him. He sighed at your rejection. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” You nodded and spoke coldly, the ice of your tone hitting Din right in the heart. He knew he deserved it, this entire visit a complete fuck up on his part, but he also wondered what it was he had to do to show you that he truly was sorry for everything.

He unwrapped Grogu, dropping the apron at Omera’s feet, his eyes avoiding her completely as he picked up his bag and began to walk off without another word.

You leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing Vero’s cheek and thanking him for everything before following Mando into the woods, a few yards behind him the entire time.

After arriving to your parked ships, Mando shrugged his bag off his shoulders and turned around to you, gesturing at the ramp. “Is it okay if I put my bag inside?”

“Yeah, cleaned up all the cum already.” You snarked, raising your eyebrows at him as he froze in place. “Jokes.”

“Have you always spoken so…crassly?” He stepped up into the hold, resting his bag down beside your bed, not failing to notice the tangled sheets—evidence of a good night.

“Have you always been so uptight?” You countered, joining him in the ship. A smirk grew on your face as he became increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that you and him were all alone with a bed right beside you. “So…Omera—”

“Don’t.”

“I was just wondering if you made good on your threat.” You shrugged and sat down on the bed, looking up at him as you laid back against the mattress, your hair spread out on the sheets and a devilish smirk on your face. He could no longer deny that he was aroused by you, but that certainly didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it.

“My threat?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, rolling over onto your stomach and propping your chin up on your elbow, arching your back extra just to study his reaction. “To fuck her.”

“That’s none of your business.” He grumbled and stepped down the ramp, walking over to his N-1 and setting Grogu in the passenger pod.

“It wasn’t your business what I was doing last night, and yet you happily walked right in. Bet you saw everything. Only fair that I get to know if—“

“Yes. We slept together. Happy? Can we go now?” He was as tense as ever as you kept your eyes on his, your smirk fading a bit. You hadn’t expected that he actually would’ve done it—if you had, you wouldn’t have brought it up.

“Yeah. We can go.”

Din was shocked by the sudden shift in your smug mood, your face turning pained as you walked away, into the ramp of the ship and closing it behind you. Swallowing his feelings, he climbed into his seat and closed his pod, starting the N-1 up and allowing it’s loud engine to drown out his constant stream of thought.

He wasn’t used to this much…feeling. Not since meeting the kid had he been consumed by so much feeling for another living thing. He wondered if it was Grogu who was to thank for his sudden soft hearted nature. Even with Omera—his stomach feeling sick at the thought of her having seen his face while you still had not—he only felt hints of feelings. But with you, he felt an entire world of them.

He thought you were painfully beautiful, your eyes sparkling even when you were shooting daggers his way. You were sexy, and managed to stir feelings of deep arousal within him without doing a single sexual thing. In fact, it was you who drove him to the point of needing a release last night. He felt happy when he saw you smile genuinely—possibly the only thing he didn’t mind about you entire fling with Vero.

You also managed to fill him to the brim with anger and frustration. He’d never met a woman like you who talked so much like a man, or at least a woman that looked like you who did—Peli had a similar charm, but she was 30+ years older than you and looked hardened by those years. You were as soft and beautiful in appearance as fine silk, and yet when you spoke, it was all worn leather. The juxtaposition drove him mad.

“Checking comms.” He heard your voice over his comms system, his stomach fluttering a bit before he cleared his throat and spoke back.

“Clear.”

“Taking off.” You sighed, lifting off and ascending out of the atmosphere.

As soon as you were off planet, you felt lighter. The entire thing, aside from Vero, was a disaster. You never wanted to think about Sorgan again—and that included talking things over with your escort.

Once your ships were flying through the dark expanse of space, you decided to never mention any of it again. What he did with his penis was his business, even if his business deeply affected you and stirred feelings of insecurity and jealousy within you. You’d drop it all—including and especially your feelings for him. It was an unnecessary stressor on your business relationship, and it was above all else just plain unrealistic.

He was never going to be anything to you. In just a few days, you’d be landing on your home planet for the first time in a decade, and he’d be leaving you. Perhaps if there was more time, the two of you could feel things out—

No. No more feelings for the Mandalorian.

“No music this time?” His voice startled you, a sharp inhale of breath filling your lungs as you thought about a response.

Nothing felt right to say quite yet, so you said nothing.

“Ah, the silence.” He sounded slighted, though he attempted to hide it.

“Where will we land for camp?” You finally spoke back, sounding exhausted—and in truth, you were.

“We can land on the Glavis Ringworld.”

“Never heard of it.” You put in the coordinates and watched as your screen illuminated with the sight of a ring-like space station. “Is it safe?”

“Does it matter? Sorgan was safe and look at what happened.” You chuckled against your own will, surprising Din as he listened to the sound. He hadn’t meant to make you laugh, but he wasn’t complaining. Anything was better than the painful silence washing over the two of you since leaving Sorgan. “I am…sorry…about what happened. I shouldn’t have been so…distracted.”

“It’s fine, Mando. We really don’t have to talk about it.” You sighed, your heart racing at the confrontation. You hated “sit down” talks like this. It was easier and more efficient to handle your feelings internally, going quiet until they were processed and then coming back out of your shell.

“No, it wasn’t. I was wrong for letting you leave alone—“

“Mando, seriously. I don’t want to talk about this. It’s fine. Water under the bridge.” You hoped he’d get the hint this time and drop it, and judging by the silence that fell over the two of you for the next few hours, he had.

By the time the two of you had landed in a hangar on the space station, the tension had dwindled back down into nothing. For a moment, a part of you became scared that this was a telling observation—you two could only be civil when you weren’t speaking. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

Your mind flipped back to the morning you both left Tatooine. You didn’t feel so annoyed at him then when you were cooking him breakfast in the dark, so why now?

Perhaps it was because you had no feelings for him then, and now…

“We should get something to eat. Grogu is starving.” Mando spoke up as he walked into your hangar, watching as you locked up the ship for the night. You nodded, afraid to speak and turn the conversation sour again. “Are you hungry?”

You shrugged, nodding at him as you walked over. He seemed stressed and exhausted, but from what, you weren’t sure.

“Are you hungry for anything in particular?” He sighed, frustrated with the silent treatment.

You shook your head and gave him an indifferent frown of your lips, shrugging.

“Are you just not going to speak anymore?” He shifted his weight onto one hip, Grogu cradled in his arm.

“When it’s important.” You spoke up, half-surprising him. He expected more silence.

“It’s like looking in a mirror.” He scoffed under his breath and shook his head, turning on his heels and leading you out of the hangar. You couldn’t see it, and he himself wasn’t quite sure why it happened, but a smile found its way onto his face underneath his helmet. He let it sit there for a bit as the two of you walked through the unique city, the constant shifting between day and night extra obvious against his beskar armor.

“H-have you been here before?” You finally spoke, hopeful that enough time had passed since he last tried to talk about Sorgan that he’d forget about trying again.

“Once. To deliver a bounty.” He turned towards you as you approached a trendy restaurant advertising raw fish. “Is this place okay?”

“Sure.” You shrugged, deciding it was long overdue for you to try new things.

As Mando approached the building, the doors slid open, his broad frame taking up the entire width. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight and followed in behind him.

“Dine in or takeout?” The droid at the counter spoke up, Mando turning to look over his shoulder at you. You shrugged your shoulders and mumbled an “I don’t care”.

“Takeout.” He instructed, the droid handing him a tablet for him to create his order on. He turned around and tilted his helm down to look at you, the two of you much closer than he anticipated. “Do you, uh, know what you want, or would you like me to order for you?”

“You can order for me.” You offered a weak smile, watching him nod before pressing away at the screen. The light illuminated his helmet, and you hoped to catch a glimpse of what lord behind the darkened visor covering his face, but you could see nothing. Perhaps there was nothing.

No. Couldn’t be a droid. He’d had sex with a human. Although surely that wasn’t an unheard of act. But he didn’t move like a droid. He didn’t emote like a droid. No, he was a living, breathing, body of flesh. Flesh you’d fantasized about touching and studying, even when you tried to convince yourself not to.

“All set.” He turned around with two bags of food in his free hand, Grogu still held soundly in the other.

“Will we be staying at the hangars?” You asked as he led you back the same path you just walked.

“It’s safer, trust me. Most of these Inn’s are pleasure houses, and a lot happens at pleasure houses.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with them.” You chuckled, bringing his attention to you again. After hearing you scream at him, every laugh and giggle was like a soothing balm. He wanted to hear it over and over again until the harsher memories were erased.

“I was a young man once, believe it or not.”

Did he ever laugh? Then you remembered you’d heard it once—with Omera. Your eyes rolled on their own volition at the memory.

“What?” He asked, having seen the action. You quickly turned to him, not even realizing what you’d done.

“What?” You asked sincerely.

“You rolled your eyes.”

A blush came over your face as you realized your jealousy seemed to have a mind of its own, and that was the mind controlling your body most of the time.

“I just…I remembered something…unpleasant.” You dismissed him as the hangar door opened, Mando gesturing for you to walk in first.

His heart raced in his chest as he thought about what he was going to do next—what he’d been planning on doing since he set the coordinates for this pit stop in his system. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the need to show himself to you—his face, at least.

It didn’t feel right that Omera had seen him and you hadn’t, and perhaps once you saw that he was just another human, maybe you’d see that he was capable of fucking up just like everyone else. You didn’t want to talk about what happened, and he understood that, but perhaps this would be a way to ease the tension for good without any of the talking it over.

He only hoped it wasn’t going to be a mistake like the last time.

“I’d invite you inside to eat with me, but I know—“

“Okay.” He nodded, gesturing at the ship. You chuckled in disbelief before quickly assuming that he had a way of eating that didn’t break his sacred code of honor.

You opened up the hatch rather than the ramp, the three of you stepping inside the ship. Mando set Grogu down on the lone crate in your cargo hold, still amused that you’d turned your space into a full-size bedroom. He sat down beside the child while you sat across from the two of them on the edge of your bed.

“I can go up to the pit if you want—“

You were cut off by the sight of Mando pressing a button on his helmet, a hiss of pressure releasing before he began to lift it off his head. Was this really happening? He was showing you his face?

Soon, you were met with a stubble covered jaw, pouted lips that dimpled a bit in the center, a strong nose that had your mind reeling with lustful fantasies, and finally, the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you’d ever looked into. He didn’t look directly at you at first, shuffling around and acting as though it was no big deal, but the child sitting beside him cooing in delight proved that it indeed had been.

“I got you what I always get. I hope you like it.” He handed you a couple boxes of different sushi, his eyes finally flickering to yours. Your lips parted at the sight, quickly turning your eyes down at the delicious looking assortment of food. You knew you were blushing, but so was he.

“Y-you’re very handsome, Mando.” You finally confessed after a bit, Din’s jaw slowing to a halt as he chewed his food. His eyes slowly rose from his plate to you, taking in the sight of you so flustered by him. He swallowed the food and wiped his mouth, nodding at you in silent thanks.

“Uh, thank you. But…you can just call me Din.” He looked back to his plate, hoping to hide his own blush.

“Din?” He nodded, still avoiding your eyes. Sighing, you felt your chest constrict with guilt over the fact that he’d gone out of his way to open himself up to you after everything that went down while you remained closed off. Scratching your neck, you accepted the onslaught of anxiety that came with speaking about your feelings out loud. “I’m sorry for pointing my blaster at you. And for…everything, really. I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with, I know. It’s just how things are in my family.”

“Your cousin is Han Solo,” he meant it as a question, but spoke it like a fact. You nodded, eyes dropping to your food again. You missed Han. “That puts things into perspective.”

“You know Han?” You lifted your eyes, watching as he chuckled—relishing in the fact that you not only could hear it but could see it. It still was unbelievable to you that he was actually helmetless.

“I’ve had a few run ins with him. He’s…well, he’s a lot like you. So. You can imagine how well we get along.” Din looked to your eyes again, this time letting them stay there. You chuckled and nodded in understanding. Han wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t model yourself after him. “I showed Omera my face last night.”

His admission came out of nowhere and it struck you in the chest, not entirely because of your jealousy but because you knew how much it meant for him to do such a thing.

“Yeah?” You didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah.” He nodded, eyes dropping to his plate again.

“Will you forgive her?” You asked after a beat, unsure of how else to carry on the conversation. Din shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

“No. I don’t think I will.” He looked back to you. “Will you be visiting Vero again? After you visit your family?”

“No. I don’t think I will.” You repeated his words, earning a smile.

The air felt tense again, but not like before. This was a good kind of tension. Good, but dangerous. Sucking in some breath, you looked over at the clock beside your bed. It was late, and you hadn’t slept much last night, your body and mind exhausted from the events of the day.

“Think it’s time for bed.” You stood up and walked the remaining food over to your mini-fridge, putting it inside and closing it. When you turned back around, Din was taking his beskar off, setting it in a near pile near the crate before sitting down on the floor and easing his back against the wall. “You’re going to sleep right there?”

“I don’t mind. I can sleep anywhere.” Grogu, meanwhile, was not about to skip the opportunity to fall asleep in a warm bed. You both watched the child crawl up the clean sheets to the pillows, resting himself in the center of the queen sized bed. His eyes looked back and forth between the space on his sides before doing the same with the two of you.

“Come on, you can sleep in the bed, Din.” You tried out his name for the first time, causing a flurry of butterflies in his stomach at the sound. He looked hesitant, not wanting for the two of you to prematurely cross the line he hoped one day you would. “It’ll be fine. The kid’s in the middle, nothings going to happen. I’m not going to pounce on you in your sleep.”

You realized the way your words may have come across, for once deciding to apologize for your accidentally innuendo.

“As in an attack.”

“Right.” He stood up with a deep breath, shooing the images out of his mind of you the night before, naked and being drilled into. It didn’t bother him so much anymore, especially since he’d managed to envision himself in Vero’s place.

Walking over to the opposite side of the bed, Din watched as you stripped down to your underthings, his neck feeling increasingly hot at the sight before you disappeared beneath your plush comforter. He took another breath of courage before doing the same, stripping his clothes off until he was only in his most essential layer. Your eyes raked over his scarred body, golden and somehow even more beautiful with the battle wounds all over it. He was quick to get beneath the blanket, his cheeks red with insecurity as he watched your eyes turn away.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled before turning his back to you, a smile growing on your face now that he couldn’t see it.

“Night, Din.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @mandomover @chxpsi @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @trickstersp8 @idkifimaliveanymore @trinkets01 @chloeinpink @alwaysdjarin @tizylish @jessie-skywalker @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @dindjarinsmut @jlmaddinson @ladyrebel25 @lexloon @awholelottayeehaw @hungrhay (sorry if your tag isn’t working!)

#din djarin angst #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando angst #mando x y/n #mando fluff #mando smut #mando fanfiction #mando x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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darlin-djarin · 1 year

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in my relation to my post about how din's covert is not a cult

if you want to know how and why it isn't considered a cult, please look at @loveoaths post here

now here is what needs to be said: din's covert is NOT a cult. it is an orthodox religious group that takes their creed very seriously. they are not "evil" and "cruel", they are simply religious and din values that very much so.

the notion that dins covert is a "cult" also forms the idea that din should remove his helmet and go against the creed. this is wrong. if you truly believe this, you are not considering the real life consequences of saying things like this. even though din's religion isn't "real", there are many aspects about it that IS real in MANY religions around the world. the belief that din should take off his helmet because his religion is "wrong" can harm so many people in real life. imagine telling a hijabi, or a sikh, or anyone who wears a religious head/body covering that you don't agree with their religion and therefore they should REMOVE their head/body coverings... like wow. just. wow. even if din's creed isn't real, the things you SAY about it can harm real people. many people who wear religious head/body coverings were overjoyed with the mandalorian because they felt SEEN. they felt respected and they felt normalized to see something so similar on screen. implying that din should just take off the helmet because you think his creed is "wrong" is literally harmful, no matter the fictional or real life context.

so MANY of the mandalorian fans are just white americans who don't understand the real impact of religion. yes, religion CAN be corrupt and yes, it can be used for manipulation, but dins covert is a HEALTHY religious relationship, if you REALLY think about it. religion in the west has become something criminalized and something that people stray away from because a lot of christianity and christian beliefs have changed overtime to manipulate and abuse it's believers and so many people stray away from religion and/or disregard it altogether. therefore, so many people don't understand what a real healthy religious relationship is and people can't recognize one even if it's right in their face.

now there are many arguments towards din's creed that i've seen so i'm going to answer some of them so y'all can understand:

"but what if they get injured and people can’t save them without the helmet coming off?!?!”

mandalorians HONOR warrior deaths. if they die then they die with the helmet on. period. i don’t wanna hear shit about morality or whatever. you either respect other religions or you don’t.

“it’s cruel that grogu will never see din’s face!”

the helmet IS din’s face. it’s an extension of his body and his armor is a part of his identity. what din did, removing the helmet once for grogu to see him, was a special moment and was din’s active choice to do that. to HIM, he felt like it was necessary therefore it happened. it’s not cruel for din to hide his face. PLUS there is a whole love language for mandalorians. without the normalized “acts of service” people are used to, mandalorians MUST have a way to convey their love. through customized and personalized acts, mandalorians can show affection all the same. like a keldabe kiss. it’s just as important and valid as a real kiss and mandalorians invented a way to kiss others without having to break the creed. there are probably so many other ways that mandalorians created to show affection without breaking the creed.

"they hide in the sewers and hide their faces!!"

yes for PROTECTION. they were MASSACRED in the past. their planet is left in ruins, they are devastated. hiding away and not showing their face PROTECTED THEM for SO LONG. it was their way of survival and their religion stemmed from that.

"redemption/being forgiven for transgressions is impossible!"

YEAH NOWADAYS. back THEN redemption was available because mandalore wasn't blown to pieces yet. OBVIOUSLY THE CREED WASN'T PREPARED FOR GENOCIDE SO WHY WOULD THEY MAKE THAT RULE IF THERE WAS NO CHANCE OF REDEMPTION??

religion is always good in moderation. but there doesn't NEED to be any moderation because din's creed has absolutely nothing wrong with it. PLEASE stop calling it a cult.

#y'all make me afraid to become a hijabi atp #can't have a damn day #star wars #the mandalorian #“cult” my ass #din djarin #grogu #oil.

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third-generation-female-warrior · 2 years

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(Click for better quality!)

Ahsoka... and her Padawan...

Hi, this piece was inspired by Nightfall_1409's Re(convene) on AO3, and, honestly, if you haven't read this fic yet, what are you doing with your life?

Every chapter is INSANELY GOOD, still going, and, without spoiling anything, it has everything a fan COULD WANT! You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll get the feel-goods, you'll cry some more, you'll feel like you're part of the journey!

Seriously, if you're a fan of literally anything that has been done outside of the Skywalker Saga, you should go read this fic. I'm talking Rebels, Book of Boba Fett, The Mandalorian, Republic Commandos, Clone Wars, it does PREQUELS, The Bad Batch, Ahsoka Tano, and MORE! This is literally a love letter to all of it.

Anyways, in the story, it's mentioned often that, one, Omega is Force-Sensitive and two, Ahsoka Tano, to some extent, taught her how to hone her force abilities, so I was inspired by that little tidbit, of what "finding balance" in a tumultuous galaxy would look like.

I want and might do more art of this fic, it has literally inspired me to keep writing my own shit!

#ahsoka tano #tcw ahsoka #star wars ahsoka #tbb omega #omega bad batch #star wars #bad batch omega #ahsoka fanart #acj draws

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zacksfairest · 1 month

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Vaela 🦋 🎁🎈 🧨, Lehala 🧿 🦝 🎀 🍇, Ayala 🐁 🦴 🍷 🐹

♡~OC Asks~♡

Vaela

🦋What is their favorite season?

Fall, for sure. The trees are such pretty colors, there is a crisp bite to the air. And everything is reds and browns! Perfect color combination for her

🎁What is something they keep like: a souvenir, a keepsake, or a family heirloom; that means a lot to them? Why is it so important to them?

Hmmm. I think that once all is said and done and she's off doing Her Thing and makes it clear to her family that this is her life now, her dad would gift her with an old quiver of his. It's actually his dad's quiver, and it's fairly simple, but it harkens back to the days of when they were true Wood Elves—likely from back Aeranth at some point in their lineage. He would have given her the bow that goes with it, but the bows she uses are so much better and his girl deserves the best. But at least she can have a piece of them on her little adventures with her, holding the ammo that keeps her safe. And of course this means a lot to her. It's nothing fancy, which goes contrary to her need for pretty things, but the thought there is overwhelming. It's a blessing to go out into the world and live the life she's made for herself, while also a prayer to keep her safe in a way that her family still feels they have failed to do (which of course they are wrong).

🎈If they could travel anywhere, where would they go?

Well, she pretty much does go everywhere now, doesn't she? What with the work she does for Aeranth. But I suppose she wishes she could spend more time on the shores and ocean. She is so familiar with the woods and forests now, but not so much the sea. She'd love to get a taste of it.

🧨If they could screw anyone without any consequences, who would they choose?

Delethil hate fuck let's go. I kid, I kid. (Or do I?) But I honestly don't really know. She remains skittish in my head until further development can be had for her. And she never really met anyone on their travels that she felt that kind of desire for. Not even Cobalt.

Lehala

🧿Do they have a superstition or belief? Such as "black cats bring bad luck", belief in ghosts, tarot, crystals, meditation, etc.

No one can touch her weapons. Only those she trusts most can handle them, and even then it makes her twitchy. This is definitely stemming from a fear of outsiders to her clan, on top of the idea that it leaves too much of an opportunity for sabotoge—even unintentional damage! But she fully believes that she will die or get seriously hurt if someone else handles her weapons. It'd need to go through rigorous tests first before she used them in battle after that. And even then she'd still be leery.

🦝What do they smell like?

Filed under: things I never consider when creating characters. But I imagine she smells kind of earthy. Fresh cut grass. Likely stemming from the grass and dirt stains on her armor after sparring.

🎀Do they have something they collect? {Stamps, rocks, stickers, etc}

Back home she definitely collects little trinkets from successful skirmishes. An arrowhead. A dagger. A broken blade. Things that remind her that she survived and is still here. She's a much more simple lady than Vaela. Pretty things don't tempt her.

🍇What is their sexuality? And what is their "type"?

She's always felt more fluid to me. Pan or bi. Definitely demi-sexual, though. She does not trust anyone to be intimate with her that she does not trust implicitly. She is a warrior and is keenly aware of how vulnerable sex makes a person. There is no desire where there isn't absolute trust for her.

🐁Do they find a creature cute, that normal people don't? Such as spiders, rats, snakes, sharks, etc?

She is a Star Wars lady, and a Mandalorian besides. There have undoubtedly been strange creatures she's come across that most would have found repulsive that she cooed over. Thinking of strills at the moment. It is absolutely not uncommon for Mandos to look at a disgusting creature and go "Oh! A baby!"

🦴Have they ever broken a bone or had any sort of major injuries before? If so, what was their ailment?

OH, MANY. MANY AILMENTS AND INJURIES. Her lekku are scarred to hell, which means those injuries were painful and near debilitating. Lekku are extremely sensitive and major damage to them can even mean death. But not my girl. She's built different. Her lekku have definitely endured a good bit of injury, but she's always managed to recover. She's been in countless battles and skirmishes and sparring sessions. She's cracked rips, broken wrists, and been stabbed and slashed. Ayala has so many scars from the life she's lived as a Mandalorian, but none in particular really stand out. The physical injuries are easy, if you ask her. It's the injuries she bears in her soul that really weigh her down the most.

🍷What is their drink of choice? Both alcoholic and non-alcoholic?

Ugh. Star Wars drinks. Anything with a kick. She isn't picky. Sometimes you need a stiff drink to knock you on your ass after a particularly rough day in the field or on the hunt. When she needs to stay sharp, however, she drinks the strongest caf she can get her hands on. The squad yells at her that she needs to drink more water. But what good is that gonna do? Caf has water in it. And now she's awake for another 12 hours. What's water gonna do other than make her need to pee? Vys'kydir absolutely has put her in a chokehold until she agrees to drain her canteen.

🐹What "pet" names do they like being used for them? {Babe, Kitten, Puppy, Mutt, etc.}

You know what's coming: cyar'ika. ner cyare. alor (but sexy. you know.). (any chiss pet names there might be lmao)

#editoress #answered #under a read more bc there are Many #oc: Vaela Ceyoven #oc: Lehala of Clan Mavari #oc: Ayala Ger'Mana #ask game

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authortobenamedlater · 1 year

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@ladyknightskye tagged me.

Your name: Around here I go by AuthorToBeNamedLater or ATBNL.

Your first fandom(s): In terms of interest, Star Trek TNG. In terms of fandom engagement, seaQuest DSV.

Your current fandom(s): I measure “current fandom” in terms of “currently writing fic,” so Halo and The Mandalorian. Fandoms I love and post about here in rotation: Star Trek, Star Wars, MCU, Babylon 5, NCIS.

How did you first get into fandom? I honestly don’t remember a time when I wasn’t “into fandom” in some way? I suppose I really jumped in when I found FFN.

How long have you been engaging in fandom spaces?: Before you were born 😂 I found FFN very shortly after its launch in 1998.

How often do you read fanfics?: More often than I should LOL.

Top three characters from your current fandom(s): Is this three from each fandom or three altogether? I’ll go with the latter.

Cortana + John, Roland + Lasky (AIs and their humans are a package deal in my world), Kai.

Mando, Bo-Katan, Cara Dune because Cara is still in my Mandalore’s Reluctant Royals AU and if I ever get past the mental block of losing all my WIPs, she has a very important role to play.

Have you ever written fic for a fandom?: Only close to 100 between my FFN and AO3. Not counting the little snippets and micro fics I’ve shared only on Tumblr.

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom?: Aside from the Shadow vessel sponge painting I did in eighth grade art class, no. I’d like to change that though, because some of my off the wall AUs could do with visual content.

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: Captain Shaw is married with kids and is a Chicago deep-dish pizza snob.

Tim McGee had an FFN account and probably has an AO3.

Thel ‘Vadam mixes up his English idioms Ziva David-style.

You’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them?: I am not showing ANYONE Halo, unless you come to me saying you want to watch it. And then I’m going to give you a bunch of caveats about how I’m obsessed with it but it’s really not that great except for when it is and you shouldn’t take it too seriously. Buckle up and grab your adult beverage of choice.

For game-verse Halo I’d show Johnson’s speech about the tank in Halo 2 because that’s what Mr showed me to rope me in.

Mandalorian, the first episode.

Babylon 5, I would start with the pilot movie if I could find it and then not let up until you’d watched five seasons of emotional roller coaster. I’d tell you what JMS said in the commentaries for Shattered Dreams and Sleeping in Light and Deconstruction of Falling Stars and how many of the actors died too young. After War Without End I would show you the video where JMS drops the bomb about why Michael O’Hare left the show. By the end of it you’d love the show but you might not love me anymore. 🤣

And finally, what does fandom mean to you?: A place where I can explore the highs and lows of the human experience in a safe environment. Sometimes I can put a little broken piece of myself into a fanfic or headcanon and not feel so broken anymore. I can “talk” about things in fiction that I can’t in real life.

A place where I can meet cool people whose paths I never would have crossed had we not been abnormal about a certain show or character. ❤️

Tagging all who see this!

#fanfiction #halo #star wars #halo tv show #babylon 5 #tag game #Star Trek #the mandalorian #fandom

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novastargalaxydesigns · 6 months

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Wolfwren x Novastar Galaxy (Drolfwren Headcanons)

+ Shin is a biter without a doubt. But Nova bites back. So when Shin bites Nova, Nova bites her back. Having dragon DNA, Nova has naturally sharp teeth. So even as a human, her teeth remain sharp. And thanks to the canine genetics, her canines are larger than the rest. So she leaves an one of a kind mark. For all to see on both Shin and Sabine.

+ Dueling is a huge must between these three. Not only is it good exercise, but great for bonding. When Shin and Sabine duel each other, their focus is knocking each other flat on the ground. But when dueling Nova, they're determined to overpower the taller female.

+ Nova and Shin most definitely are gremlins. While the mercenary uses wolf-like hunting tactics and affectionately call 'Kurs’kaded' by Sabine, Nova is literally practically half wolf so the Mando'a word for wolf suits her to a T. But both Shin and Sabine call her 'Tracyn Kurs’kaded' (fire wolf). Nova calls Shin 'Ver'verd' (mercenary) when trying to rile her up. Then Nova and Shin both call Sabine 'Me’suum’ika' (moon). Then Sabine gets called 'Meshurok' (gemstone) by Nova.

+ With Shin being a former mercenary, she's used to the hunt. So after Nova gets thrown into the mix and with her mainly being a carnivore, Nova introduces Shin to a whole new world of hunting.

+ Sabine has a squishy face (Help me find who headcannoned that because it is so true and I wish to tag them). Nova and Shin compete to see who can make Sabine all flustered by squishing her face. The two gremlins take it super seriously.

+ Shin's way of showing affection is biting, just straight up biting. Girl ain't ashamed of it. Sabine shows her affection through painting so Shin's armor pieces have been shown love by Sabine and so has Nova's armored shirt. Then Nova shows her affection through acts of service like doing their hair or helping them out.

+ Nova drives Huyang crazy. And Shin joins in 'cause it's something fun and just because she can. When Huyang gets on Sabine about anything, Shin will power him off then Nova throws him in a random spot in the ship when she's feeling generous. Ahsoka then has to find him and turn him back on. BUT when Huyang told Nova a human shifting was entirely impossible after she first revealed her gift, Nova shifted and it took Ahsoka and the two padawans to keep the drolf from using him as a chew toy.

+ When first meeting Nova, the Shifter spoke her bloodline's native tongue and Noti. She didn't know Galactic Basic Standard. She also knows Dathomirian although she thinks it's a dirty language. Sabine taught Nova Galactic and Mando'a. Nova grasped Mando'a much faster and it wasn't until Shin joined in teaching her that Nova could speak Galactic.

+ When the three first met, Shin was leading her group of bandits and Sabine crossed them scouting. A fight threatened to break out. Finely attuned to everything around her despite not being Force sensitive, Nova sensed the tension. Too close to her home for her liking, Nova appeared on the scene. Just her sudden appearance scared off Shin's bandits. Then the Mandalorian and Dark Jedi were harshly scolded in an unknown language.

+ Nova was worse than Shin when being the one receiving affection. At first when Sabine tried to show Nova affection, the Shifter would growl and bare her teeth. But when the taller female finally gave in, she became a giant lush.

+ Shin and Sabine can often be found dueling or doing anything competitive. While the two prefer their lightsabers, Ahsoka forces them to use sparring sticks. Which they still manage to hurt each other with. Shin has succeeded in giving Sabine black eyes and Sabine managed to break Shin's nose. They're not allowed to spar without supervision anymore.

+ The Howlers see Nova as an Alpha. The reason is unknown, but when shifted and wandering around, Howlers can often be found at her heels. They can be found hunting with her, just wandering with her, or merely just sunbathing with her.

+ Ahsoka makes the padawans meditate every day at sundown to get them to calm down. Sabine and Shin do it when Nova is sunbathing in the fading light. The pair have found Nova's faint rumbling to be soothing to meditate too. One time, Sabine actually fell asleep.

+ Nova and the Noti get along super well. Having grown up with them, the Shifter assists them when it was time for them to move on when they were near her home. Nova she travels with them, the Force-sensitives (as she calls them), and Huyang.

+ The padawans often go to the Dathomiri Fortress. They can't get Nova anywhere near it. But she'll go the the Sculpture of the Ones and just sit there with her head bowed for hours.

~Future Drolfwren~

+ Nova dyes and does both Shin and Sabine's hair. It was one of her acts of service and a routine was made of it.

+ The first kid is Shin and Nova's. The kid inherited Nova's Shifter gene but they're more wolfish. The second kid is Nova and Sabine's daughter. She also inherited the Shifter gene and is Force-sensitive. Then the third and final kid is another girl from Sabine and Shin who is Force-sensitive.

+ The two who got the Shifter gene did not get the sheer size Nova has in Shifter forms. Shin and Nova's child is more wolf-like in their Shifter form with no dragon wings and smaller horns. Sabine and Nova's daughter is a spitting imagine of Nova's Shifter form but smaller. She has an interesting set of regal-looking horns.

Author's Note: Feel free to suggest any more headcannons by either commenting below or sending asks.

#novastargalaxydesigns #shin hati #sabine wren #wolfwren #Drolfwren #star wars

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ghouligancentral · 2 years

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Your Gravity Holds Me Down- Chapter 1

Din Djarin x Reader

Chapter 1- The Ancient Sigil

Summary- The reader is a thief who used to work for the Pykes, but she wants to leave that life. While trying to remove the bounty from her head, the reader discovers a piece of beskar with an ancient symbol carved on it. But little does she know that upon finding this, she has just set in motion a series of events that will change her life forever.

A/N- This was originally going to be a short smutty one shot, but it has turned into something completely different. I think I have an idea of where I want to take this story. As always let me know what you think and feel free to leave any comments about this or any future works you might want to see. Thanks for reading!

Chapter warnings: None

There will be some spice coming later on but I will put a warning on those chapters.

______________________________

The noise of the club is disorienting. Multicolored lights illuminate the room as you shove your way through the crowded dance floor. Finally, you are able to make it to the bar.

“One Phattro!”

You yell at the bartender in an attempt to be heard in the noise of the crowd. They nod and get to work mixing the drink. You turn around and lean against the bar, propping yourself up on your elbows as your eyes scan the room. Your gaze jumps from person to person.

The bartender slides your drink over to you. You lay down the credits and give them a nod before taking small sips of the liquid as you resume your search. You have to admit it, even though you often dislike being on Coruscant, they do have some good drinks.

While looking around the room you spot a pair of eyes on you. A feeling of panic settles in your stomach.

Why are they looking at me? Your question is soon answered when they give you a greasy smile and a wink. Oh lovely, a creep.

Even with the slime ball ogling you, you feel relieved, knowing that they aren’t one of the ones hunting you.

Ahh ha!

You slam the glass back down on the bar once you spot your target.

The way the lights reflect off of his helmet makes him pretty hard to miss. And he must have noticed you because at that moment he starts pushing his way through the crowd to you. The Mandalorian stands out in this crowd, he is far too sober and overdressed. You lean back on the bar and give him a smirk when he approaches.

“Well, this isn’t what I would call subtle,” You mutter as you gesture to his armor. You are aware of the fact that he never removes his helmet but you had hoped he would have at least left the armor off. All you get in response is a head tilt. You know he hates places like this so you motion for him to lead the way.

“Come on,” he says while grabbing your wrist and pulling you back through the crowd. This time it is much easier to make your way through the dance floor. Many who see the Mandalorian coming automatically clear the way, while those who are too drunk to acknowledge him are just shoved out of the way.

Once you reach the back of the club, he stops at a sealed door. Reaching into your top, you pull out a data card. The door swooshes open once you swipe it, granting the both of you entrance.

“After you,” you announce with a dramatic bow, allowing the Mandalorian to take the lead. Once the two of you have made it through the door, it shuts behind you, mercifully lowering the noise level. The both of you are submerged in darkness.

“But seriously, what took you so long? Are you okay?” You ask looking up into the visor, or, at least, where you think his visor would be. While he may seem like an indestructible force, Din is still human after all.

“Yeh I’m fine, just got held up at the door,” Din explains while motioning to his empty holsters.

“You actually handed over your blaster to them?!” You exclaim, surprised that the man ever parts with his weapons while awake. He probably showers with them, a thought you have had many times before.

Oh Din in the shower, the idea sends a warm fuzzy feeling through your body. You’ll have to save that thought for later, now you have a job to do.

“No other way,” Din grunts as he brushes past you, striding deeper into the area as the two of you fumble to find a way to turn on the light.

“Aha!” you announce in triumph as your hand finds the right button. A dim red light slowly flickers on. If Din’s helmet was off you would have been able to see the smile on his face. He loves watching your face light up when you work.

During your time together Din had grown fond of you. Some small part of his brain might even tell him that he loves you but he never lets himself admit it.

The two of you had been traveling together for quite some time now. He had captured you as a bounty but, while in the process of bringing you in, found that the man who had put the bounty on you was the true criminal. You were young (still are) and stupid (somewhat less so now) when you got involved with the Pykes, they had you stealing under the guise of doing it to protect people. The Mandalorian decided to help you once you explained the reason for stealing the files. It was the only way you could keep your family safe. So far the two of you had managed to get your previous boss arrested, only to find out that the crimes ran deeper than you both had thought.

There is still a bounty on your head, that’s why you’re still with him. That and the fact that you had no other place to go. You couldn’t return to your family without putting them in danger. You felt safe with Din. No one had ever tried bringing you in when you were with him.

He didn’t know what it was about you that made him feel so protective. He surprised even himself when he had offered for you to travel with him, on the condition that you help of course, and in exchange, he would try to clear the bounty from your name. Originally Din wanted you to help him watch the kid, but after seeing just how good you were at getting information, decided that your skills would be put to better use in capturing bounties.

You scan over the room, seeing what appears to be a private seating area of the club. A leather sofa lines the back wall while seats are placed around the room. However, you know that this isn’t all the room has to offer. You would have never known it was there if you hadn’t gotten your hands on the blueprint of the place, curiosity of the Mandalorian's persuasive (threatening) techniques.

“Here we go,” you say before sauntering over to the back wall and crouching down beside the couch. You are truly in your element when you are working like this. Din watches as You slowly run your fingers along the smooth wall searching for something.

He can feel his heart rate increase at the sight. In the warmth of the club, you have worked up a thin layer of sweat, causing your skin to glisten in the dim light. He has to tear his eyes away from your thighs, which have now been revealed as your dress had rolled up when you crouched down.

You can feel the vibrations from the music through the wall. There you are, you think when you find a small joint In the metal. You can slip a fingernail under the plate and open it to reveal a number pad. You turn back to show your work to the Mandalorian, who just responds with an approving nod.

After looking at the number written on your wrist you punch in the code. A secret door slides open next to you. You kick your heels off as you stand up and start to walk through the door before Din stops you.

“Stay behind me,” Din instructs as he moves in front of you. You nod before following him through the door. The two of you need to move quickly and quietly. Din holds his fist up as a signal for you to stop when you reach a doorway. He scans over the room before signaling to you to follow.

You walk through the doorway out onto a balcony overlooking a room of data files. Here it is.

“Come on, but be quiet. I don’t like how easy this was,” Din warns as he begins to descend a set of stairs leading down to the record room. Once you reach the bottom of the stairs you can see a computer terminal to your left. Din watches as you pull out a data stick from your top.

How much stuff does she have in there? Din silently questions. You sit down and make a show of cracking your knuckles before getting started. Din just rolls his eyes at your performance. You set to work locating the file you want. You plug the data stick in and begin to download the information. While you wait, you notice a lock on one of the desk draws. Curious. With your skills, you easily have the lock off in no time. As you rifle through it, the glint of something in the desk drawer catches your eye. A silver bar with a strange symbol etched into it is stuffed into the back corner. You know the metal is beskar but you have no idea what that marking means, but it must be important for it to be locked up down here. You know you have to take this too.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention, and after quickly turning, you see a guard walking through. Thankfully the guard is distracted by something on his datapad and Din is already on it. He creeps over beside the door and launches an attack. Before you can blink, the Mandalorian already has the man in a chokehold. You watch as the man flails his arms in an attempt to escape. The man stills right before he passes out. Din lets the unconscious guard drop to the floor.

All of a sudden alarms start blaring.

“Dank Farrik! He must have hit some sort of alarm,” Din growls as he makes his way to you and the stairs. You quickly grab the data stick and chip, praying to the maker that it has had enough time to download what you need. The two of you quickly make your way back up the stairs.

Once you pass through the doorway at the top of the stairs, you see the door to the private club room beginning to close. The both of you make a break for the door and are just barely able to get through before it closes. You fall on top of the Mandalorian as you trip through the door. You watch as Din’s helmet is sent flying across the room. The metal rolls under one of the tables.

—————-

A little over a year ago the Mandalorian would have instantly recoiled and attempted to hide his face from you, but a lot has happened since he first broke his oath. One time you had accidentally walked in on Din in the cockpit without his helmet on. Your father was a Mandalorian and you knew of the creed, even if your father was not part of the Death Watch clan.

You instantly shielded your eyes and apologized. Din quickly reached over to grab his helmet but stopped when he saw his reflection in the metal. Is this really how he wants to live? Always hiding his face from you. Din looked back at you. He knew there was something about you, something that drew him towards you. At that moment he made up his mind. He stood and walked over to you.

“Mando? What are you doing?” You asked as he removed your hands from your face. You still kept your eyes tightly shut.

“It’s okay,” Din reassured as he put a hand on your shoulder,” I’ve broken the creed enough times at this point.”

You slowly let your eyes open to look at him. And there he was. It was a shame he had been hiding such a handsome face this whole time. When you looked up at him you saw the soft smile on his face. His brown eyes had many emotions behind them. It was a mixture of relief and shame. You felt as though the force brought the two of you together to share the moment.

“I guess I better show you this then,” you mumbled as you turned around. You lifted your tunic to reveal the tattooed clan signet. Din’s eyes widened as he looked at it. The protectors.

“I thought they had all been killed,” Din whispered, feeling as if he was looking at one of the sacred texts from the temples of Mandalore.

“All but one,” you respond in the same hushed tone.

“So your father is —-“ Din starts.

“Fenn Rau. The last of the protectors.” You finished for him.

Slowly, as time progressed and the two of you became closer, Din allowed you to see his face in private. At first, it started with him allowing you to bandage any wounds on his head, face or neck, but after a while, he began To grow more comfortable. By no means did he walk around without his helmet all the time. He still only took it off for meals and sleeping but now he did those things around you and the kid.

————————

So when you see his bare face there is no panic.

So glad I took those shoes off, you think with a chuckle as you lay on top of Din.

“You okay?” You ask Din, rolling off of him to stand.

“Yes, you?” Din replies as he stands.

“Uh hu,” you nod. You sit down on the couch as you begin to put your shoes back on. Din just stands over you, watching. The moment of relief is short-lived as you hear the door leading from the club begin to open. Din pulls a knife out of maker knows where, but you have a better plan for getting out of here.

You grab Din by the shirt and shove him onto the couch. You quickly grab the knife out of his hands and slide it behind a cushion on the couch. Even with the helmet, you can tell Din is confused.

“Follow my lead,” you whisper as you straddle his lap and sit down.

Din tenses, “they’ll see my face,”

You can hear the pain in his voice, but you have a plan.

“Not if I do this,” you whisper as two people walk through the door. You slam your lips into his just as the lights flicker on. Your hands run through his hair as the kiss deepens. You feel him relax into you and he starts kissing back. Your head blocks his face from those standing in the doorway.

“Ahem. This room is private,” one of the guards stutters. They were both obviously not expecting to see the two of you in such a delicate position.

Show time.

You lift your head and bury Din’s head in your chest to continue hiding his face.

“Ohhhhhh,” you slur, pretending to just be another drunk couple trying to find a secluded spot in the club.

“We can go,” you continue, you let the strap of your dress fall a little, causing both of the guards to look away.

“We will give you a minute,” one of the flustered guards utters and he motions for the other to follow him out.

As soon as the door closes you get off of Don’s lap. You let out a little laugh as you watch Din stare off into space. You had messed up his hair when you ran your hands through it.

“Come one. Let’s get your helmet and get out of here,” you mumble as you adjust your dress and slip your shoes back on. You walk over and grab his helmet, when you turn around you find him still in a daze. While you have your back turned, Din quickly adjusts his trousers so that the bulge there isn’t so prominent.

“Hey Din. You with me?” You chuckle as you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Oh uh. Let’s go,” Din mutters as he takes his helmet from your hands. He places it back on his head as you grab the knife you hide earlier.

“Can’t forget this,” you quip before shoving it in one of his holsters. Din watches as you ruffle your hair a little to mess it up. The Mandalorian cocks his head at you.

“Gotta keep up the act,” you grin. There is a loud banging on the door as someone calls out “ you two done in there?”

“Yes. We’re done,” Din responds before offering you his arm to lean on. The door slides open and the two of you stumble out.

“Thanks, guysss,” you slur at the two guards as you pass. The larger of the two just rolls his eyes at you. You keep giggling as the two of you make your way to the exit. After Din gets his blaster from the bouncer, you swiftly leave.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you laugh as you get on the speeder bike behind Din. You wrap your arms tightly around him as the two of you drive off.

“Neither can I,” Din mumbles under his breath. The night air blows through your hair as you speed through the city. The ride back to where you are staying is relatively short even with the bustling city traffic of Coruscant.

“I bet you’re wishing you still had your Razor Crest ship right about now,” you tease as the two of you step into an elevator leading down to the hotel. Mando just grunts in response. You let yourself lean back on the railing as you watch the lights of the city as you descend deeper into the planet.

Din leans his head back against the glass of the elevator and lets out a deep exhale, the adrenalin from the club finally wearing off. A ding sounds in the space as the evaluator stops at the floor you are going to.

You step out and wait for Din to follow. Once Din joins you on the platform, the two of you make your way down the dim corridor. You were used to places like this. All sorts of low lives roam these streets. You stop Din when you reach a small unassuming building. There are no signs or markings to indicate it is anything resembling a hotel. Upon entering a code the door swishes open and you walk through. The twi’lek at the far side of the room looks up from her book at the two of you. Her eyes narrow in suspicion when Din walks through the door.

“Well if it isn’t the slimmest little thief in the coruscant system,” sneers the twi’lek as she closes her book.

“Look who’s talking. I’m betting you didn’t get this lousy place from working an honest job,” you jab.

“It’s been a long time,” the twi’lek utters before reaching down under the table.

Din’s hand twitches above his blaster, ready to draw, but just as his hand makes contact a wide grin appears on the twi’lek’s face.

“ Ma sareen! How are you? It’s so good to see you again!” the twi’lek says as she walks over to embrace you.

“Hello Yarya,” you reply with a smile, returning the hug.

“So you two know each other?” The Mandalorian questions as he tilts his head.

“Oh yes,” Yarya announces as she throws an arm over your shoulder,” me and (y/n) go way back.”

“Speaking of which, have you managed to get rid of that bounty yet? Ahh! He’s not captured you has he?!” Yarya questions as she quickly steps between you and the Mandalorian. You don’t know what this 5’ twi’lek thinks she can do to a specialized warrior covered in beskar but she looks determined to do it. The furiously in her eyes causes Din to back up a little.

“No. No. This is Mando, he’s been helping me,” you explain, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Oh! Well, my name is Yarya Baru, the owner and proprietor of this here hostelry.” Yarya announces as she gestures around the room. Din wonders if this really counts as a hotel, given the obvious lack of guests, or rooms for that matter.

“So what are you doing in these parts? This place is crawling with informants and bounty hunters. It’s not the safest place for you here,” Yarya asks as she motions to follow her over to a set of couches.

“I needed specific information and the only place to find it was club Kaskasar,” you explain as you plop down on one of the plush green couches. Din stands stiffly behind you, not being used to this type of atmosphere.

“Any luck?”

“I believe I got what I needed,” you explain as you lead back further on the couch, making yourself comfortable. You pull Din’s sleeve a little in an attempt to get him to join you. He hesitates for a moment before deciding to trust your judgment in this situation.

“Good. The sooner you bring the Pykes down the better,” Yarya huffs.

“I’m not trying to take down the entire syndicate,” you chuckle,” I’m just trying to get me and my family out of this mess.”

“Well someone needs to get rid of them. Tea?” Yarya offers. You happily accept her often and Din passes for obvious reasons. Yarya moves to the kitchen to get the supplies, and as she does she calls out to you.

“So what can I do for you, besides giving you a place to stay?”

You reach into the bag slung over your shoulder and begin to pull out the beskar, but Din stops you.

“How do you know we can trust here? And how would she even know anything about this?” Din whispers in your ear, keeping an eye on Yarya to make sure she doesn’t notice the two of you whispering.

“Yarya’s father is a historical records keeper on Ryloth, if anyone in the Coruscant system knows what this symbol means, it is her.” You whisper back.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d trust her with my life Din.”

“You just might have to,” Din replies with a sigh and leans back from you when he sees Yarya approach with a tray.

“Here you go,” Yarya chirps as she sets the tea down in front of you. You thank her as you take the warm cup in your hands before taking a sip and setting it back down on the table.

“Can you tell me anything about this?”

You hand the bar over to the Twi'lek, who turns it over in her hand. Yarya gasps once she sees the symbol.

“Where did you get this?” Yarya asks as she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“I found it in one of the drawers in the club,” you reply, feeling slightly nervous from her reaction.

I thought this had to do with the Pykes,” Yarya murmurs as she takes a closer look at the object.

“So what is it?” Din questions and he leans forward.

“Well I’m not really sure what exactly this marking means in this context, but I can tell you who made it.”

Yarya hesitates as if she is debating whether or not to tell you.

“Go on,” Din urges.

“This is the ancient sigil of the Protectors of Mandalore.”

#the mandalorian #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din x reader #stars wars #mandalorian fanfic

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