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proxima-writes · 11 months

Text

title: hokaanir riduurok

pairing: din djarin x non-mandalorian female reader

rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)

word count: 6278

summary:

hokaanir riduurok - the mandalorian joining ceremony during which one warrior submits themselves to their intended, allowing their flesh to be carved with a symbol of their unity.

or: you marry a mandalorian and their weddings are a little different than you’re used to

author’s note: a gift for @dindjarinslegs , who’s beautiful brain sparked this whole work. the term of endearment “pirun’ner” comes from this list by user @starrypawz . if you enjoy this work, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging!

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual material (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, very plot heavy porn, writer considers ‘din’ to be the mandalorian’s first name, exploration of Mandalorian customs and lore, use of Mando’a, ceremonial scarification, mentions of blood and wounds, use of weapons, use of aphrodisiacs, wedding ceremony, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, mild/moderate breeding kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, biting/marking, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, pet names, reader i have taken liberties. let me know if there are any missing!

You’re washing a dish when you hear the metallic clang of heavy beskar approaching. You turn, ready to greet the Mandalorian, only to find Din holding a blade out to you across both palms, helmet tilted down and feet planted wide. You glance at Grogu, who offers only a slow blink of his large dark eyes and a twitch of his ears in answer.

“Uh…Din? What…what are you doing?” You ask. He lifts his helmet, dark visor obscuring your view of his face but not the white hot feel of his gaze across your skin.

“In Mandalorian culture it is tradition to present our intended riduur a blade with which to complete the hokaanir riduurok,” his modulated voice explains.

“Right, right. Of course,” you mumble. You dry your hands on the apron around your waist. “What uh…what’s that, exactly?”

“The Mandalorian joining ceremony.”

You blink. “Joining ceremony? You mean like…marriage?”

“To Mandalorians it is more than marriage but…yes.”

“Din Djarin, is this a proposal?” You ask. You can’t stop the broad smile spreading across your face as you approach him.

“Yes, cyar'ika,” he murmurs, armor heavy arms wrapping around your waist when you’re within arms reach. “Is this an acceptance?”

He tilts his head, pressing the cold beskar to your forehead. A keldabe kiss, he’d told you once.

“Of course.”

________

Din calls the Armorer following his proposal. She, along with Bo-Katan, have chosen to remain on Mandalore with a number of Mandalorians who wish to rebuild the planet to its former glory after the fight against Moff Gideon.

“She has accepted the blade,” Din tells the Armorer’s hologram.

“It has been a long time since the Tribe has seen a proper Mandalorian wedding,” the Armorer says. “Even longer since the sands of Mandalore have borne witness.” She pauses, helmet tilting to the side. “Did you tell her the significance of the blade?”

“I told her it was for the joining ceremony,” Din replies. He should have known the Armorer would see right through him.

“Yes, but did you tell her its purpose? How she is meant to carve her possession into your flesh to be kept with you for the rest of your days?”

“I may have neglected to provide that much detail.”

The Armorer sighs. “I would suggest you bring your aruetii to Mandalore ahead of your joining ceremony. We will have much to discuss.”

“We will endeavor to arrive within the next lunar cycle,” Din concedes.

“This is the Way,” the Armorer intones.

“This is the Way.”

________

“I can't believe I’m visiting Mandalore,” you say excitedly. “I’ve never even been off Nevarro.”

Din is strapping you into the co-pilot seat of the freighter ship he’s borrowed from Karga’s fleet. While he’s content to fly and sleep in his Starfighter, he said he wants you to be more comfortable during your first trip off-world.

“Stop moving, pirun’ner,” he says, fitting the straps across your chest. You wiggle again, just to be stubborn, and he huffs a laugh, tapping his helmet to the crown of your head.

“You know, you’ve never told me what that means,” you say as he takes a seat in the captain’s chair. You watch as he confidently moves through the pre-flight motions, flicking switches and pressing buttons, inputting coordinates and checking gauges.

“The literal translation from Mando’a is ‘my water’,” he says. “Water begets life. Without water, there is no living.”

“Din…,” you murmur, words getting caught in your throat. “Makes me feel bad for the nickname I give you in my head.”

He turns his head, somehow managing to look affronted despite you not being able to see his face. “And what nickname is that?”

“Tin man,” you joke.

“But…this is beskar,” he says, clearly not understanding your joke and you can’t help but laugh.

The nickname comes from the early days of your relationship with the Mandalorian.

As Nevarro’s resident baker, you’re familiar with the locals and even more familiar with the gossip around newcomers. The town buzzed with excitement when one of the Mandalorians that defended the trading town had returned and settled on the outskirts with his son.

The first time you saw him was when his son made a cookie float off your display and into his little green hand. The Mandalorian had shown up while you were bent to the little creature’s level, asking where his parents were.

“Grogu,” his modulated voice chastised. “We talked about this.”

He was clad head to toe in the beskar armor you’re now intimately familiar with, but you didn’t know that at the time, so you called him ‘tin man’ in your mind. You didn’t learn his name until around the third time he’d visited your bakery.

The ship jerks harshly in take-off, breaking you from your trip down memory lane. Your fingers curl nervously against the armrests of your seat.

“Does that usually happen?” You ask.

Din must sense the anxiety coming off of you in waves. He reaches a gloved hand over and rests it over yours. “You are safe with me, cyar'ika. I would never let any harm come to you.”

You smile at him, the tension easing from your shoulders. You turn your hand palm upwards to fold your fingers between his.

“I know.”

________

Later, in the pitch black crew cabin, you’re curled against Din’s body on the scratchy cot as the ship’s autopilot continues your voyage, reveling in the feel of him against you without all the beskar and weapons. He feels human like this, soft, yet somehow still your solid pillar of strength in a galaxy not built for gentle things.

“Tell me about Mandalore,” you murmur.

“It’s not the same as it once was,” he replies, his unmodulated voice deep like the vastness of space beyond the ship. “It’s harsher now. War ravaged. For a long time we were told it was not even fit for life.”

“Were you raised there?”

“No. I was born on Aq Vetina. There was…a raid. My parents were killed. Battle droids. I was raised as a foundling on Concordia, Mandalore’s moon.”

“I’m so sorry, Din,” you whisper. You trace your hand up his chest and neck until you can cup his stubbled cheek in your palm.

“I didn’t set foot on Mandalore until recently. I had…removed my helmet, in the presence of others, which goes against the very tenets of The Creed.” He takes a deep breath. “I was an apostate. Dar’manda.”

“Seems kind of harsh.”

He chuckles. “You and Bo-Katan will get along well.”

“You still wear the armor,” you point out. “If you’re not a Mandalorian, is that allowed?”

“By bathing in the Living Waters in the Mines of Mandalore, someone who is dar’manda can seek redemption. It was a long shot. The Mines were thought to be destroyed.”

“But they weren’t?”

“No. The planet is more hospitable than we were led to believe, even in its ravaged state. It’s why Bo-Katan is able to rebuild, to reunite what once was broken.”

“So, you were able to bathe in the Mines then?”

“Yes. I have redeemed myself in the eyes of the Creed.”

Your mind conjures an image of your Mandalorian, tall and broad though his face is nothing more than a blur, stripped of his armor as he wades into a pool of water. You rub your thighs together, hoping the friction eases the ache forming between your legs.

“What are you thinking about, pirun’ner?” Din asks. His voice has gone lower, darker, and his hand presses you closer to his body. You realize you’ve been caught.

“You,” you reply honestly. He shifts, running his hand down your waist and over the curve of your ass, not stopping until his hand grips behind your knee and drags your top leg across his hips. Your hips shift against his leg.

You’ve not seen your Mandalorian’s face or body before, but you know the feel of it intimately. The hard planes of muscle in his arms and chest, the softness of his tummy and the thickness of his thighs. The stretch of him inside you, the bite of his teeth and strokes of his tongue under the cover of darkness.

“Is my riduur feeling needy?” His hand urges your movements, your hips now rocking steadily against his thigh. Your moan is breathy and desperate in the small, dark space.

“Not your riduur yet,” you gasp. Din’s warm hand grips your chin, tilting your face upwards. You feel his nose trace along your cheek as his mouth seeks out yours in the dark. His lips are warm as they move against yours in a slow, burning rhythm that matches the slide of your pussy over his thigh.

“The next time you cum, after tonight, you will be,” he groans. Your hips stutter, your release hitting you like a burst of light, sparkling at the corners of your vision. He kisses you deeply. “Sleep now, ner’karta.”

Your heavy eyelids obey his command.

________

Two figures stand at the mouth of a cave as Din lands the Alanar N3 Light Freighter on the surface of Mandalore, a woman with bright red hair and blue armor and a helmeted figure with copper armor and a gold helmet with spikes.

“Welcome,” the redhead says as the two of you approach. “It’s been a long time, Din Djarin. Hopefully you will not need rescuing while you’re here this time.”

“Bo-Katan. Or is it Mand’alor Kryze, now?” Din replies. She smirks.

“Alor Kryze will suffice,” she corrects. Din bows his head in respect before introducing you by name to Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorian, who identifies herself as the Armorer you’ve heard Din speak about at length.

“We have much to show you and discuss,” the Armorer says. She regards you. “Follow me.”

You glance at Din, eyes wide. He gives you a nod, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you follow the Armorer’s retreating figure as she enters the cave. You meet her at the edge of a cliff that overlooks what appears to be a bustling city.

“Wow,” you mumble.

“It has taken much effort to restore the Mine City to functionality. But it is prospering.”

“How do you get down there?” You ask.

The Armorer chuckles. “We fly. Come closer. We will go together.”

“Oh, uh. Okay.” You step closer and she wraps an arm around your waist, the jetpack on her back igniting as she takes a step over the cliff. You scream, clinging to her shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut.

Your feet hit the ground and you slowly open your eyes. At this level, other Mandalorians bustle about, some with helmets and others without. There are even children running through the streets.

The Armorer releases you once your footing is solid. “Come, we will visit the Living Waters.”

You trail after her again, head swiveling as you take in the city. Some of the Mandalorians look at you curiously as you pass, and you wonder what they must think. From what Din has told you, his Tribe is very secretive. Do they worry you’re a threat? The thought almost makes you laugh.

She leads you deep into the Mine City, down from the street level until you’re standing at the bank of what appears to be a lake, stone steps descending into the dark depths.

“These are the Living Waters of Mandalore,” the Armorer says. “In the days before the Great Purge, the Living Waters saw many ceremonies. Initiations to the Creed, joinings, the adoption of foundlings, the merging of houses. It is the lair of a Mythosaur, a great beast tamed by Mandalore the Great, the first ruler of Mandalore.”

“There’s something down there?” You ask. She tilts her head.

“Allegedly. Mythosaurs have not been seen in many moons,” she replies. “Your joining ceremony will take place on these steps. Has Din spoken to you further about what that will entail?” You shake your head. The Armorer continues.

“It begins with a proposal. A Mandalorian warrior chooses a riduur to whom they will submit themselves, body and soul, for as long as they continue to live. The warrior presents their intended with a blade with which they will perform the hokaanir riduurok.”

“The ceremony consists of three parts,” she continues. “The dinui, or gift, where both parties have selected a weapon to give to their warrior.”

You blink. “He’s going to give me a weapon?”

“Yes. It will be forged specifically for you,” she confirms. “And you will select one for him as well.”

“The second part of the ceremony is the riduurok, or the vows. You will drink spiced wine from the same chalice before reciting the traditional Mandalorian vows.”

This, at least, sounds familiar to you. Vows were common in the few wedding ceremonies you’d seen on Nevarro.

“Finally, the hokaanir. You will take your blade and cut your unifying symbol into his flesh, just above his heart. Then, the covert will host a celebration in your honor.”

“I’m sorry, I have to do what?”

The Armorer tilts her head. “We are a warrior people. Our loyalty is demonstrated with honor and blood,” she offers in explanation. When she’s met with silence, she continues. “I am happy to help you choose a weapon and unity symbol for your ceremony.”

“Thank you, Armorer,” you reply honestly. “For sharing everything with me.”

“This is the Way,” she says, bowing her head. “Do you have any questions?”

Only about a thousand, you think. But there’s one you’ve been wondering about since landing on the planet and being introduced to Bo-Katan, a Mandalorian who showed her face.

“I hope this isn’t insensitive but…you and Din always wear your helmets, right? But Bo-Katan and some of the other Mandalorians…they don’t. Why is that?” You ask carefully.

“The Tribe follows the Creed as described by the Way of the Mandalore. There are other interpretations of the Creed that do not consider the removal of one’s helmet grounds for exile,” she replies. “We are learning to live in harmony.”

“With your Creed…will I ever be able to see Din’s face?”

“As his riduur, he may choose to show his face to you and your future warriors.”

You blink. “Future warriors?”

“Your children. Foundlings or by birth.”

You hadn’t considered children before. Of course, you adore Grogu, Din’s adopted son, but growing your family? Now that the idea is planted, you can’t shake the roots loose.

“Shall we discuss weapons, then?” The Armorer asks, breaking through your racing thoughts.

“Let’s do it.”

________

“You really didn’t tell her anything about the ceremony?” Bo-Katan asks as she walks with Din through the restored Mine City. Din is in awe of the progress that’s been made since the last time he was here. There are a surprising number of Mandalorians now residing in the city, Alor Kryze’s unification efforts clearly working in her favor.

“I haven’t even witnessed one myself,” he says. “In the covert, they only recited the vows. There was no ceremony involved.”

“It’s certainly an experience. And for an aruetii, it may be challenging. We are born and raised as warriors. Blood is nothing to us.” She pauses. “Speaking of raising warriors, where is your son? I miss the little womp rat.”

“He and Karga will join us for the celebration.”

“Din Djarin,” the Armorer calls. He turns just as you collide against him, your arms around his waist. He tips his helmet to your head.

“Pirun’ner,” he says, holding you to his chest. The reunion is short lived.

“We must discuss your joining ceremony,” Armorer says. “Join me at the Great Forge.”

________

The heat from the fire that burns within the Great Forge is stifling and oppressive. Sweat beads on Din’s temple within moments of stepping foot into the cavernous space.

“Your aruetii was rather surprised by our customs,” the Armorer says. Din can feel the judgment in her gaze, even through the helmet. “But receptive. She will do well.”

Din nods. “Thank you for taking the time to explain it to her.”

“She has chosen a weapon and a unity symbol. Have you given thought to her weapon?” The Armorer asks.

“A vambrace,” Din says easily. “A defense weapon. With shields and a comms unit. Nothing she could accidentally hurt herself with.”

“A fitting choice. It is settled. Your ceremony will commence in two days, upon the completion of your weapons. This is the Way,” she says.

“This is the Way.”

________

Bo-Katan helps you dress for the ceremony in a dress made of material so soft and light, you worry it will disappear into thin air. It reminds you of some of the gowns you’ve seen in holovids from Coruscant, white fabric draped over your shoulders, plunging in a deep V down your chest and falling to the ground, secured at the waist with a broad belt of beskar and crystal. When you ask her about it, she looks away.

“It belonged to the last true leader of Mandalore,” she says, not inviting any further questions you may have. “Women would normally wear ceremonial armor as well, but since you are not a Mandalorian, exceptions can be made,” she says.

“Have you seen many weddings, Bo-Katan?” You ask. Din was right when he said you would get along well with the new leader of Mandalore. You’ve been enjoying getting to know her over your last two days on the planet.

“I helped prepare for a few, before the Purge,” she replies. She adjusts the strap of your gown on your shoulder. “But the ceremonies are private. A leader in the community helps to guide the couple through the stages before taking their leave once the hokaanir has been performed.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

Bo-Katan smirks. “The ceremonial wine will have certain…effects on you that you will not want someone to bear witness to.”

“Maker!” You hiss. Your eyes go wide as she laughs. “Are you joking?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” She guides you out of the room and down into the city, where the Mandalorians are prepping for the celebration that takes place after the ceremony. There are flags raised with a familiar Mudhorn skull and others with what Bo-Katan explained was the skull of a Mythosaur, the symbol of the Mandalorians.

Helmeted Mandalorians tip their heads as you pass, while those not wearing helmets hold their fist across their chest. You feel nervous but excited and your heart races with each step closer to the Living Waters.

Bo-Katan leads you down into the depths, the sound of a crackling fire growing louder as you descend. As your eyes adjust to the dim glow of the firelight, you notice two figures standing at the top of the stairs to the Living Waters.

They turn as you approach. Your steps falter as you take in your Mandalorian’s attire.

Rather than the silver beskar and flight suit you’re used to seeing him in, Din now wears a pair of black linen pants belted with beskar tassets that hang to his knees. A black cape hangs down his back to the floor, held in place by impressive spiked pauldrons, a heavy chain sitting at the base of his throat. He still wears his familiar silver helmet.

As he turns to face you fully, your mouth goes dry. He’s shirtless beneath the cape and pauldrons, the tan skin of his chest and abdomen on full display. The firelight illuminates the muscles you’ve traced with your fingers and mouth but never with your eyes.

Perhaps most surprising, however, are the black tattoos that adorn his chest, swirling lines that stretch from his collarbone and down his pectorals until coming to a point right above his belly button. Shiny scar tissue catches the light - a large one on his hip that looks like a blaster shot, thin lines that bisect his tattoos and deeper gashes near his ribs. Your fingers ache to trace them as you commit them to memory.

Bo-Katan gives you a little nudge, urging you forward until you’ve joined Din and the Armorer at the stone steps. She takes her leave with a nod of her head and the Armorer regards you both.

“Shall we begin?” Her modulated voice asks.

“Yes,” Din’s modulated voice replies. His bare hand reaches for yours, fingers wrapping around your palm and easing the wild beat of your heart.

“We will begin with the dinui. You have each chosen a gift that befits your riduur.” She turns, hefting a large ax-like weapon from the low wall behind her. “Din Djarin, your riduur has chosen the munit'kad halberd, the Mandalorian vibro-ax. A weapon worthy of the head of Clan Mudhorn."

Din takes the ax, testing the weight of it in his hands. A twist of his hands activates the sonic blade, the beskar glowing blue. He swings the ax in a wide arc, slicing it through a nearby stone that crumbles to pieces.

Another twist of his palms and the blade goes still. He hands the ax back to the Armorer, who places it back on the wall before picking up a smaller item.

She holds the item to you as she says your name. “Your riduur has chosen a vambrace, fitted with a communications unit and defensive shield projectors.”

The Armorer gestures for your arm, securing the beskar vambrace to your forearm. It looks similar to the ones Din wears, reaching nearly to your elbow. There’s a screen that lights up when you tap it. You press at it again and a circular shield projection emits from the device, startling you and making you laugh.

The Armorer taps at the screen, making the shields disappear. She unclasps the vambrace from your arm, setting it beside the ax. “Din Djarin, do you accept this gift that your riduur has selected?”

“I do,” Din responds.

The Armorer says your name again, dragging your attention from Din. “Do you accept this gift that your riduur has selected?”

“I do,” you repeat.

The Armorer turns and picks up a chalice. “You will now consume the tal’galar, a symbol of the Mandalorian lives lost before your union.” She passes the chalice to Din, turning her head to allow him the privacy to lift the bottom of his helmet. You follow suit, training your eyes to the floor.

He passes the chalice to you. You glance briefly at the dark liquid before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. It’s warm, thicker than you expected, but sweet. As you swallow, that warmth intensifies and it feels like it’s already suffusing through your veins, making you feel tingly.

The Armorer takes the chalice from your hands, setting it aside. She picks up the blade that started this whole series of events, the one Din presented you with in your kitchen what feels like ages ago, and your hands start to feel sweaty. You swallow nervously, heart beating wildly in your chest.

“You will now recite the vows,” she tells you. “You will repeat after me.” Din reaches for your hand and the feel of his skin against yours is electrifying, lighting up every nerve ending. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

Din repeats the words in Mando’a, the deep timbre of his voice like silk. You want nothing more than for him to pull you closer, to whisper those words in your ear. This is your husband - this fierce warrior, this gentle man, this loving father. A wave of emotion clogs your throat, making it hard to swallow as you watch him.

“We are one together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors,” the Armorer repeats in Basic. You echo the words back, eyes glued to Din’s helmet. His fingers tighten briefly around yours as you finish the vow.

“Din Djarin of Clan Mudhorn, do you so submit yourself to your intended, until your final battle has been fought?” The Armorer asks.

Din drops heavily to his knees, chest heaving with breath. “I do.”

She turns to you, holding the blade across both palms. You take the weapon in hand and face Din. You feel hot all over, like anything you touch may catch fire in your wake.

“Your riduur has chosen to symbolize your unity with pirun,” the Armorer says. “You may begin the hokaanir.”

________

Every moment in Din Djarin’s life has led to this - kneeling at your feet and staring up into your beautiful face as you ready yourself to unite your souls. A fire burns in his veins and his body aches with the need to touch you, his cock straining in his pants.

The tip of your blade drags across the skin of his chest and his breath catches at the prick of pain. He can feel his skin splitting in its wake, the sharp sting and burn of a new wound quickly morphing into an ecstasy that has him gasping.

The blade lifts from his skin and you begin the second line of the symbol. His hands curl into fists against his thighs, body fighting against the urge to wrap you in his arms and claim.

Din can feel the blood sliding down his chest, little rivulets trailing from the most significant scar he’ll ever receive. When his eyes find yours from behind his visor and he sees his own bottomless lust reflected back at him, his restraint frays further.

You start the third and final line of the symbol, an inverted triangle that represents pirun, water. His water, his life, his everything. He can’t help the moan that breaks free, echoing in the cavern.

He reaches for you, gripping your hips as his head bows forward and he gets his first glimpse of his hokaanir, the cuts you’ve made over his heart with so much focus and care, stark red against the tan of his skin and bisecting his mandokar markings. His heart swells with pride at carrying a piece of you with him forever.

Din distantly registers the blade leaving his skin and the echo of retreating footsteps but all he can focus on is getting his hands on you, rucking up the gauzy fabric of your gown until his fingers are tracing the soft skin of your thighs. You drop to your knees, your own trembling hands sliding up his arms.

“Take it off,” Din commands. “My helmet, take it off, cyare.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, even as your hands grip the heavy beskar.

“I’ve never been more certain.”

________

You slowly lift Din’s helmet, revealing a strong, stubbled jaw, plush lips, a prominent nose, soft brown eyes and curly dark hair. You set his helmet to the side without daring to take your eyes off of him, the sound of beskar hitting stone echoing through the cavern. You bring your trembling hands to his jaw, smoothing your thumbs across the high point of his cheekbones.

“Din,” you whisper. His hands wrap around your wrists, steady where yours are not. “Maker, you’re so beautiful.”

He smiles and it feels like a blaster shot to the heart to finally see it, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and his mouth tilts up a little higher on the right. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you forward for a sweet kiss, his lips moving gently with yours.

It doesn’t stay gentle for long.

Din’s lips turn insistent, hungry, bruising in their quest to conquer yours. His teeth nip at your lower lip, making you gasp and he uses it to his advantage, his tongue tangling with yours and exploring to its content.

His hands explore your body, tugging roughly at the straps of your gown until your breasts are exposed to the cold air of the cavern. His lips leave yours, kissing down your jaw and neck, sucking bruises into your sensitive skin.

Your own hands explore his chest, fingers ghosting over the fresh wound of his hokaanir and coming away sticky with blood. He moans against your skin each time your fingers catch on the angry red lines.

“You feel that, cyare?” Din asks. He takes your hand, holding your palm to the mark. “A heart that beats blood only for you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before he’s moving, his body urging you down onto your back, eager hands rucking up the skirt of your gown up to your waist. He presses your thighs apart, settling on his belly between your legs, his thumbs parting the lips of your pussy for his appreciative gaze.

“I’ll never have you in the dark again,” he says, brown eyes meeting yours. “Not when I know what it’s like to see you in the light.”

With his gaze still holding yours, he licks a broad stripe through your folds. His eyes flutter shut as he groans, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. When they open again, there’s a hard gleam to them that wasn’t there before, a mischievous glint that has your breath catching at the intensity.

“Remember what I told you, cyare? On the ship?” He asks. His thumb circles your clit, broad swipes over the sensitive nub that have you crying out, the sound echoing around you. “That the next time you came would be as my riduur?”

Din slips two fingers into your soaked entrance, curling them against your front wall as he sets a pace that has your hips chasing after his hand with every withdrawal. Every movement of his fingers inside of you feels hotter, stronger than it ever has before. Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just Din, unmasked and all yours, but you’re already so close to coming from just his fingers and his words and the look in his eyes.

“Want you to cum on my fingers first, want to see it,” he says, and that’s all it takes to have you clenching tightly, tiny supernovas behind your eyelids as you come undone. “That’s it, ner’karta.”

He doesn’t remove his fingers, instead dipping his head and licking at your sensitive clit and making you cry out, already oversensitive.

“Din, Din, Din,” you pant, fingers digging into his curly hair and pulling tightly. He groans against your cunt, working his hand faster as his lips and tongue drive you to a second orgasm before the first has even subsided.

He growls when you nearly knee him in the head with your thrashing, removing his fingers and shoving his arms beneath your thighs, rising to his knees and bringing your body with him. Your upper back rests on the ground as your hips are suspended in his hold, your pussy completely at his mercy as he devours you.

Din’s fingers dig into your ass, grip as strong as the beskar armor he wears as he holds you steady, his tongue working you into a frenzy. The dull spikes on his pauldrons press into your thighs, the discomfort a direct counterpoint to the pleasure he’s lavishing you with.

He sucks on your clit, rolling it between his lips as he hums, the last tether of your control snapping as you fight against his hold, your second orgasm washes over you like warm starlight in your veins.

Din eases you through it, pulling away only when you start to whine. He presses kisses to your thighs and bites at the sensitive skin, sucking marks into your flesh to match the possession you’ve carved into his.

He finally lowers you to the ground, setting you gently to the cold stone. His eyes are hungry as he stands, removing the beskar tassets and tossing them aside before shoving the black linen pants down his legs. He unclips the cape from his neck, laying it on the ground.

He reaches a hand out to you, pulling you to stand when your palm fits against his. His hands cup your face, kissing you fiercely, the fire igniting in your core despite how boneless you feel from the two orgasms he’s drawn out of you.

“Ner’riduur,” Din murmurs against your lips. His hands unlatch the belt at your waist and he sets it aside with more care than he’d given to his own ceremonial items. He slides the fabric off your body until it pools at your feet. “Lie down for me.”

You do as asked, settling on the black cloak. He drops to one knee, then the other, crawling over your body, looking every inch the fierce warrior that he is, black tattoos and scars shifting over well-earned muscle. His cock presses to your hip and he groans, shifting until his length glides between your dripping folds.

“Ni kar'taylir darasuum,” Din says. He takes himself in hand, pressing the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “I love you, pirun’ner.”

“I love you, Din Djarin,” you reply as he presses inside of you, the steady stretch of him making you gasp. You glance at his hokaanir, the skin splitting as he thrusts into your body. Fresh beads of blood form along the lines, dripping from his chest to yours.

Din grunts, hips slamming against yours. You moan and reach up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and seeking his lips with your own. It’s more of a messy press of your mouths than a kiss, the sharing heated breath as his body works against yours.

He dips his head to your neck, sucking more bruises to your skin as he murmurs dirty praise in Mando’a and Basic.

“So fucking warm and wet.”

“Made just for me, weren’t you, ner’karta?”

“Jate riduur’ika.”

You push him up, shoving frantically at his shoulders until you’re able to reverse your positions, him lying beneath you as straddle his waist, his cock never leaving you. He presses so deep inside of you like this it makes you shiver.

“Want you to fill me up, Din,” you say, hands pressed to his chest to give you leverage as you move your hips over his cock. His eyes flutter shut as he moans, the sound making your head feel fuzzy. His hands grip your hips, tight and possessive as his fingers press bruises to your skin. “Please, please, please.”

Din plants his feet against the ground, meeting each movement of your hips with a powerful thrust that makes you see stars. Your muscles tighten once more as you pulse around him with another wave of release that you can feel soaking his hips.

You collapse forward against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pounds into you from below, chasing the release he so deserves. You press little kisses to the skin you can reach as he uses your body to take his pleasure.

With a final harsh thrust he holds your hips tightly to his, his cock pulsing deliciously inside of you as he groans your name in prayer and ecstasy. He works his hips in tiny movements as he empties inside of you.

Din’s movements eventually slow to a stop, both of you panting as you try to catch your breath. You lift up, looking down into his face and smoothing the sweat damp hair from his forehead as he looks up at you with an expression so full of love you want to weep with the force of it.

“Pirun’ner,” he whispers, cupping your cheek. “You‘ve given me the greatest happiness.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips, your smile hard to fight as you do. You hold each other for a long moment as your adrenaline and euphoria settle and Din slips from your body. He gently eases you to the side, urging you to lie on your back.

He stands, grabbing something from the low wall, dipping it in the water and coming back to kneel between your spread legs. His eyes are dark as he looks at your swollen pussy, glistening with your combined release.

Din swipes two fingers through the mess, pressing them slowly inside of you and making you whine. When he appears satisfied, he wipes a wet cloth through your folds, cleaning you up.

He smoothes the cloth through the dried blood on your chest as well, gently wiping it away. When he’s done, he presses a trail of kisses from your belly to your throat before meeting your lips, slow and languid.

“As much as I’d like to keep you beneath me, we have a celebration to attend,” he says. “Let’s get you dressed.”

He helps you into the dress and belt and you help him fasten the cape back around his shoulders when he’s dressed himself in the pants and tassets. Your hands smooth other the black tattoos on his skin.

“You’ll have to tell me about these one day,” you say.

He pulls you close. “Mhi me'dinui an. We share all. I will be glad to teach you more of our customs.”

You grin at him. “We have many days ahead of us, Din Djarin.”

“I like the sound of that, pirun’ner.”

________

When you arrive at the celebration, a loud cheer moves through the crowd, the sound roaring in your ears as you hold tight to Din’s hand.

High Magistrate Karga approaches the two of you, a wiggly Grogu leaping from his hold and running towards Din, who scoops him up from the ground, holding him in his arms. A little green hand reaches for you, wrapping around the finger you offer him.

Bo-Katan and the Armorer stand nearby, watching the new clan of three.

“A successful joining,” the Armorer says.

“Mandalore is healing,” Bo-Katan replies. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

Want more Din Djarin? Check out my masterlist

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x female reader #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x you #no use of y/n

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

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Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.

“What do you like about it?”

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.

A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.

Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.

It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.

It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.

“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.

You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.

Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.

“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.

After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.

The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.

It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.

Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.

You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.

“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”

You had no idea how right he was.

You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.

You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.

It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.

It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

This was the Mandalorian.

You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.

But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.

He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.

You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.

You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.

He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.

“I want my next job,” he said.

Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.

“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.

Holy fuck the heat in you.

He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.

~*~

It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.

“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.

“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.

“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.

But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.

“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

“What do you like about it?”

You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.

“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”

“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”

You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”

He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”

“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”

He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”

Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.

“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”

He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”

Your face fell and paled.

How long had he—

“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”

“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.

“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”

He brought his hand back to frame your face.

“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”

He started pulling you forward by your face.

“And now i have you, don’t I?”

Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.

“Yes.”

He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.

“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”

You practically jumped on him.

You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.

After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.

“Go on.”

You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.

Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Mando—”

“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”

You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”

It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.

Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.

You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.

It was then that he started to feel you up.

He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.

He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”

You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”

“I knew every part of you was perfect.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.

It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.

He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.

“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”

You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”

His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.

“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”

You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”

He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.

“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”

He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”

You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.

“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”

He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679

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oftenlyshitposting · 6 months

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i just thought of something fucking funny

think of ezra's blaster-saber and how appalling it would be in huyang's mechanical eyes and memory circuits. thought about it?

good, because i'm gonna raise you a more atrocious creation that i think sabine should make.

think of one of sabine's vambraces, imbued with a retractable lightsaber so in case she loses grip of her actual lightsaber, she has a backup saber ready.

like yes, her vambraces are already equipped with a number of offensive and defensive mechanisms like her mini rockets, flamethrower, and grapplewire.

imagine adding a mini, shoto-like lightsaber into it.

that is the perfect Chaotic yet Practical weapon for a jedilorian such as sabine wren, and you can't convince me otherwise LMFAOAJDKSODKSO

say sabine had already built her own new lightsaber; it's beautiful and the hilt is very sabine-like. now, imagine that while choosing her crystal, another crystal calls to her, a much smaller one. so, without ahsoka or huyang knowing, sabine bonds with both.

when she heard mandalore is liberated and flourishing, she went there to see; where she was met again with bo-katan and introduced to the armorer. now that beskar ore isn't as scarce as it used to be, sabine requests the armorer if she could make an upgrade to her vambraces and her beskar.

sabine constructs her shoto lightsaber, and true to her guess, it's small enough to fit just right in one of her vambraces. the hilt of her shoto lightsaber is made of beskar as well, and when she assembles her new and upgraded vambraces, both bo-katan and the armorer was thoroughly shocked at sabine's new creation, but bo-katan wasn't entirely surprised that sabine thought of such weapon. the armorer didn't entirely agree with such creation, but she was impressed when sabine showed it in action.

sabine hadn't told ahsoka yet, but she kinda didn't have to, because bo-katan told the jedi master herself when sabine wasn't around. ahsoka came to mandalore to pick sabine up for a mission, and was welcomed by the mand'alor and the armorer.

"did you know that your apprentice built a small lightsaber and embedded it into one of her vambraces?" bo-katan casually mentioned to ahsoka over a drink, and the mand'alor had to hold her laugh at ahsoka's baffled expression on her face.

"what do you mean sabine built a lightsaber in her vambraces?" ahsoka repeated, still processing the information, fully facing the mand'alor now.

"this is true, i helped her make it," came in the armorer's voice, as bo-katan sips on her drink, "i, too, was like you. completely baffled by her proposition. but, the weapon does come in quite handy. especially for a mandalorian jedi such as her."

"i have an ancient jedi professor droid with me who would consider sabine's new creation atrocious." ahsoka sighed, earning a small laugh from bo-katan and the armorer. the jedi master shakes her head, not out of disdain, only amusement. "but, he doesn't need to know about it yet."

sabine eventually used it in battle with ahsoka, and was rather panicking when the battle ended and ahsoka saw the still ignited vambrace-saber. sabine tried to clarify whatever it is she thought she needed to clarify, but ahsoka only laughed, which further confuses sabine.

"don't worry," ahsoka said at her, patting her shoulder with a lingering laugh, "bo-katan and the armorer had already told me about it when i went to pick you up on mandalore."

"wait," sabine was in disbelief, "you're not... mad?"

ahsoka chuckled. "sabine, i'm not a lightsaber professor droid nor a purist. that's huyang's job. besides," she nudges at her padawan playfully, "we're both very far from traditional jedi. i wield two lightsabers, and you are a mandalorian jedi padawan who technically also wield two lightsabers."

sabine laughs, agreeing with ahsoka. "i suppose so."

"just make sure to keep it away from huyang," ahsoka said as they made their way back to the fulcrum, "that might send his wires loose."

BONUS:

ezra visited the fulcrum crew and sabine showed him the vambrace-saber, and ezra was so impressed and was actually excited about the creation that he was inspired to assemble an upgraded version of his old blaster-saber. he wanted to make a pair; one for himself, and the other for sabine.

huyang found out about both atrocities, and since then, neither sabine or ezra were allowed to set foot inside his lightsaber assembly/storage area without his or ahsoka's supervisions. despite everything, huyang had to admit to himself, against his own will, that sabine's vambrace-saber and ezra's blaster-saber are rather effective weapons.

disney/filoni if you ever adopt this chaotic weapon idea design @ me so i can get my coins

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communistkenobi · 1 year

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something I’ve noticed while rewatching other star wars properties after having watched andor is that it’s difficult to watch them without thinking about andor, almost as if andor has produced a new interpretive lens for the star wars universe. and I’m setting aside all comparisons of narrative quality or pacing or cinematography for a moment, because I don’t mean those things.

for example, rewatching the mandalorian, din’s amban rifle is really cool. it’s a weapon that is illegal to have in the new republic, and it functions not only as a mid-to-long range weapon, it also acts as a fairly heavy duty taser. now as I said, this weapon is very cool. I like it a lot! but its function and existence is meant to be separate from who din is as a person - the fact that he has a weapon that doubles as a taser is not meant to be a commentary on his character aside from “this guy is a badass.” to be fair, I think what it’s meant to be is a tool of his trade - he’s a bounty hunter, he hunts people, tasers are handy for that. but there is no larger observation being made about the type of person who would use a weapon like that, or the type of society that would produce a weapon of that kind. there is no discussion in the mandalorian about how the specific economic and social demands being made of din require him to use what is by all accounts an incredibly vicious (and outlawed) weapon to “just do his job.” that is a settled matter that is not intended to be part of the narrative arc of the story.

but in andor, a taser prod is used as a weapon by the prison guards in narkina-5, and in fact the entire floor the prisoners stand on acts as a kind of collective spatial taser. these are not just meant to be narrative obstacles for our hero to overcome, they are actively saying something about the institution that uses it - that the very fact of their existence is evil, that a society who produces those types of weapons are making a particular kind of statement about how they view control and punishment of the people they govern. tl;dr, andor is making that kind of weapon political, and is asking the audience to consider it not just as a tool of the empire but as an ideological expression of the empire itself.

and so to get to the point I’m trying to make, I think a lot of things in star wars are very much settled matters. while the canon seems to constantly be re-litigated and retconned, fundamental premises are not really considered questionable or up for debate, especially a lot of the established visual traditions. and I think what andor is doing is presenting the audience with these very questions - it is reinvigorating the politics of star wars by insisting that a lot more things in the universe are up for debate, that they are politically and socially produced by the fictional societies and cultures and governments that exist in star wars, and every piece of equipment and clothing and relationship says something about those fictional people. it is asking you to view star wars as a universe that is infused with political meaning, and that politics is not a discrete category that things like tasers or prisons or arranged marriages or administrative process can be separated from. to take down the empire in andor, you don’t just have to remove the head of state or kill all the stormtroopers; you need to destroy all the tasers, too

#sw.txt #mando.txt #andor #hm. not sure I’m making my point #like you can probably disagree with what I’m saying #it would be helpful if I remember more sw lore but I’m rusty #anyway I am going to take a shower. hopefully this makes sense lol #this is not a dunk on mando btw it’s just the example that got me thinking about this #I think on average mando skews more politically charged than not #although s2 dampens a lot of that. ANYWAY

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mandalorianchronicles · 1 year

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Bo: Time to get rid of him once and for all...

Immediately follows his baby to go rescue him

Starts bonding with the baby on the way and protects him

Uses the Darksaber to rescue Din, then has it and his other weapons laid out in a neat and orderly fashion for him when he wakes up

COOKS him a traditional Mandalorian dish

Offers to lead him to the mines herself

Dives (without hesitation) 300ft down to rescue him from a mythosaur when he proves he can't even take a bath without drama

Girl, if this is how you get rid of a guy once and for all, I'd love to see how to treat someone you care for

#the darksaber #the mandalorian spoilers #din djarin #bo katan kryze #the mines of mandalore #mythosaur #oh no... I'm starting to ship them aren't I?

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thefrogdalorian · 4 months

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Dincember Day 6: Gifts

Word Count: 2050 Rating: General Summary: It's Life Day and time for you and Din exchange gifts. You love sharing in the joy of seeing others surprised with your gifts, but nothing surprises you more than the incredibly thoughtful gift Din gives to you. Content Warnings: Tiny little mention of grieving parents but other than that, fluff! Author's note: This was just so soft and I once again made myself emo... need to hug Din Djarin like rn IT'S SICK.

You had explained to Din that swapping gifts was a Life Day tradition that you enjoyed and, while you obviously enjoyed receiving presents, giving gifts to others brought you the most joy. You wanted Din to know that he did not have to get you anything flashy or expensive as you had everything you had ever dreamed about in him and Grogu, plus the little cabin you shared on Nevarro. You knew how generous Din could be, how he always made sure that you wanted for nothing. A life with him meant you had everything you needed. Plus, whenever the two of you enjoyed a trip together, Din always ensured that you stayed in the most luxurious lodgings available.

But Din was not exactly an easy person to buy presents for. You really wanted to spoil him, but what could you buy the man who always wore the same thing? Who had a perfectly functional ship, a well furnished cabin and who had a dizzying array of weapons already? You knew the best way to spoil Din was to buy gifts for Grogu, so while you pondered what you would buy for your incredible Mandalorian partner, that was exactly what you did. You had only meant to visit the market to buy Grogu a Loth-cat plush from a familiar vendor on Nevarro. You came away with several plushies, some new clothes and plenty of traditional candies that would be eaten at this time of year. You knew the way to Grogu's heart was through food and he would make short work of the sweet treats.

You felt somewhat guilty that ideas for what to buy Din were not coming easily to you. You loved buying gifts for others, loved the look on their faces and their excitable reactions to the surprise of the gift, which to you, of course, was no surprise at all. But there was one thing that you knew Din desperately needed, something that would make your nights more tolerable if your gift stopped him complaining about the temperature of his feet.

So, with that in mind, you ventured to the latest market on Nevarro, to head for the vendor you knew would stock exactly what you needed. You were shopping for his gifts in plenty of time, which was fortunate, because while you were shopping for one part of his present at the tailor, an idea struck you.

"If I gave you the name of a planet, would you be able to source traditional garments from there?" You asked curiously, admiring the enormous variety of materials the elderly woman stocked.

"No promises," She said, flashing you a gap-toothed grin, "But I will endeavour to do my best."

You were grateful that you had been so organised shopping for Din's gifts as to leave enough time for the vendor to attempt to source the materials from the planet you knew would hold enormous sentimentality for Din. You headed back to your cabin with your heart soaring as you imagined Din’s reaction to the gifts you would exchange with him.

The big day arrived, and you were practically bursting with excitement to finally give Din and Grogu the gifts that you had sourced for them. You were equally excited to see what Din had in store for you. You were sure whatever it was, that it would be incredibly thoughtful. Although Din did not have the years of experience in exchanging presents with loved ones as you did, you knew that he confronted everything in his life with nothing less than one hundred per cent enthusiasm, especially when it came to his loved ones.

The first order of business was naturally to give Grogu his gifts. You knew scant details about his life before Din, as Din himself did. But what you did know had broken your heart, the little guy had been through so much loss and fear over his life. So, you did not feel too bad if you were spoiling him just a little bit.

With Grogu happily occupied by the new plushies and making headway into the festive candy you had bought for him – you thought that you had bought enough that it might actually take him several hours to gobble it all up, but it seemed that the treats would not see the light of day for too much longer – you couldn’t wait any longer to give Din the gifts that you had bought for him.

“Okay, so, the first gift I bought you is something I believe you really need because I’m constantly having to hear you complain about it at night.” You babbled excitedly, always eager to explain the gifts that you had bought for the recipients to them, whether they wanted to hear it or not.

“Alright…” Din said cautiously, as he accepted the neatly wrapped package that you handed to him from your position on the floor, where you had just helped Grogu unwrap his presents.

You squealed with delight as Din began to unwrap your present, excited to see his reaction. When he had finally torn through the shimmering paper, he lifted the woolly garments off his lap and held them in the air, regarding them curiously.

“Socks?” Din said, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“They’re made from Tauntaun fur! I bought them from a vendor at the market,” You explained enthusiastically. “I know you’re always complaining about having cold feet at night, so this will take care of that.”

“Thank you cyare, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Din said, appreciatively, as he felt the warmth of the fur by placing his hand in the socks.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled as you handed Din the next parcel. “This is your main present. It took some time for me to arrange this, and I'm not entirely sure that it is authentic, but the vendor assured me she did her best."

You waited with bated breath, as Din unwrapped the paper and pulled out the cloth. You knew instantly, from his reaction, that he recognised the distinctive red material.

“How did you get this?” Din said quietly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I… I haven’t seen this shade for so many years.”

“I asked the same vendor at the market that I bought your socks from, whether she could source rare materials for me. I gave her the name of your home planet, she said to leave it with her.” You nodded. “I picked it up a few days ago. I hope you like it.”

“It’s Aq Vetina Carmine… right here before my eyes. Cyare, I don’t…” Din shut his eyes again, clearly fighting hard against his emotions. “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.”

“You can do whatever you’d like with it. I was thinking perhaps of a new cape, considering how your current one has certainly seen better days. Or some other clothes, or a blanket…” You trailed off quietly. “Really, whatever you like.” Your enthusiastic babbling seemed inappropriate once you had realised how emotional your present had made Din.

“Thank you,” Din said quietly. He sat there and cradled the fabric between his fingers, no doubt thinking of his much-missed parents and home world. Din a few moments to compose himself. You glanced over to Grogu, who had taken a pause from his assault on the sugary treats to look at his father with concerned big, brown eyes.

You sat there silently for a few more moments, fearing that perhaps you had slightly soured the mood by giving Din such an emotional gift on a day that was meant to be filled with joy. But then Din shook his head, regained his composure and placed the fabric carefully on the arm of the couch.

“My turn,” Din smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. You knew that your present had deeply moved him. But you also knew that the excitement to give you whatever it was he had for your present had overridden any upsetting emotions that the gift of Aq Vetina Carmine had provoked in him.

“I can’t wait,” You smiled, leaning forward on your knees in anticipation.

“This is something that I’ve been meaning to give you for a while now,” Din said quietly. If you weren’t mistaken, there was a sudden shyness that had come over him. You wondered what could possibly be inside the little pouch that he had just pulled out of his pocket. “It may not look like much, but it has a deep meaning in Mandalorian culture.”

The cloth of the pouch was soft in your palm. Inside, you could feel a small, hard weight. It did not feel particularly heavy and you wondered why such a small thing could be making Din so visibly anxious. You took a deep breath, as you pulled on the strings of the cloth pouch with trembling fingers. You reached your thumb and forefinger inside and felt the cool metal, which appeared to be of a similar composure as the Beskar which Din’s armour was made out of.

You pulled the mystery object out of the cloth pouch, but what greeted you did not answer any of your questions. It was a metallic shape, it looked to be a skull of some kind with two tusks protruding from it. There was a thin, black leather strap that the pendant was attached to. The craftsmanship on it was stunning. Whatever it was, it looked beautiful.

You looked at Din, with curious eyes, visibly confused about the meaning behind his gift. “It’s gorgeous Din, what is it?” You asked, curiously.

“It’s a Mythosaur, the sacred, ancient symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din said, gesturing towards the pendant that you still clutched tightly in your fingers. “It’s made out of Beskar, the same steel that my armour is forged from.”

“It’s stunning, Din,” You breathed, deeply touched that he was sharing a part of the traditions of his people with you, an outsider.

“And when given to another…” Din shut his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly attempting to steady his nerves before he completed what he needed to tell you. “It means, if you’d like to be, you would be a part of my Clan, alongside Grogu. Wherever you are in the galaxy, even if we are no longer together, even if I’m… no longer alive, you can show that necklace to any Mandalorian, any covert and give them my name. You will always have protection and a safe place to go.”

“Oh Din,” You whispered shakily as tears began to stream down your cheeks. You pushed yourself up from the floor where you sat and sat on the couch next to him, throwing your arms around his neck. “I love you, so so much.”

“I love you too, cyare,” Din said into your hair, as he buried his face into the side of your neck.

You could barely speak, the gesture had left you feeling so emotional. Not just the thought of Din no longer being around, but the fact that he cared for you so deeply that he wanted you to be a part of his Clan. Din had introduced you to some Mandalorian customs throughout your relationship, sharing the way of life that was such an important part of the man that he was, but it had never been anything as deep, nor as profound, as the gift of the Mythosaur necklace.

“Thank you,” You said, pulling back from the embrace and cupping his stubbly chin with your hand gently, “It’s the most meaningful gift I’ve ever received. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

“I could say the same about you,” Din said, as he brought his plush, warm lips to yours for a gentle kiss.

“Beats socks, too,” You said, giggling, as Grogu leapt onto Din’s lap, clearly feeling abandoned on the floor.

“Nonsense, never having to worry about cold feet ever again is a win in my eyes,” Din said, his brown eyes shining from the multicoloured lights that still twinkled in the main room of the cabin.

You stayed there, cuddled up warm with the two Mandalorians who had just officially become your Clan, grateful for having such an incredible man in your life, your heart full from exchanging such sentimental gifts.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin x reader

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strawberryvulture · 2 years

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i’ve noticed that whenever we see Satine she’s always “modestly” dressed/covered - which is a total contrast to many costumes of other characters:

and i think it would be interesting to write this as some sort of Mandalorian religious thing - like how Din Djarin and the Children of the Watch don’t take off their helmets, and don’t seem to uncover any other parts of themselves either.

of course Din and his people are religiously orthodox/extremist, so Satine’s situation would obviously be different - more like covering your head before going to mass and less like wearing a nun’s habit.

but it would still be really intriguing to paint Satine as religious, as following religious traditions - especially because she’s so devoted to Mandalore and it’s people. like…we’ve seen her wear low cut dresses and show her hands and her hair, but maybe as a sign of respect and modesty she keeps her arms and legs covered (we never see her arms and legs in any canon imagery)

and!! it would bring up an interesting layer to her dynamic with Obi Wan. Obi’s devoted to his religion and Satine is devoted to hers - but those religions have vast differences and few similarities.

you could play it like “their religious and cultural differences cause friction between them” or as “they’re aware of their differences and have a profound respect for each other” - and between the two, the latter seems much more plausible/in character.

just imagine

Obi Wan, during their year on the run, shielding her with his cloak so she could change clothes without any of her limbs being seen. Obi Wan quickly covering the exposed skin on her arms when bad guys attack and their weapons have ripped her sleeves. Or!!! Satine hiding injuries from Obi because she doesn’t want to break her promise, doesn’t want to reject the traditions of her people - when Obi eventually finds out he turns his back/separates them with a curtain, and talks her though cleaning the wounds.

Satine never “said the word” because no matter how much she loved Obi Wan, she’d never expect him to break his oath or turn his back on the code. because she knows how important being a jedi is to him. because she knows and understands how important his devotions are. He never once asked her to compromise her beliefs for him - and she’s not going to ask him to compromise for her.

#somebody stop me #clothing in media is something that can be so personal #star wars #star wars meta #satine kryze #mandalore #the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan and satine #obitine #the mandalorian #din djarin #death watch #aayla secura #ahsoka tano #journaling is for nerds

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 11 months

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Clan of Three (BOBF) - Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Return of the Mandalorian

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with a slowly discovering lineage. With the child off with the Jedi, the close-knit pair continues their travels through the galaxy.

Word Count: 6.1K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: Wholesome fluff, father-daughter moments, just generally happy for one

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An apostate, a child off with the jedi, and a teenage girl with similar powers unsure of her Mandalorian or Jedi past. It was an unlikely group to have come together but now only two as they arrive at a spaceport, the crowds of people going towards their ship to take them to whatever planet in the galaxy or other is returning from parts of the galaxy. Your hand stayed clutched in the former Mandalorian’s as he leads you through the crowd. Luckily his intimidating appearance people moved out of the way making an easy path, you weren’t sure where he was taking you but you would follow him anywhere he goes.

“Attention, please. Flight 1020, nonstop service to Tatooine, is now ready for boarding at gate number one. All passengers, please proceed to the boarding area immediately.” An announcement goes off as Din follows the signs toward flight 1020.

“We’re going to Tatooine?” You ask and you see the boarding ship and both walk through a gate but the alarm goes off and a security droid appears, “Excuse me, you’re both going to have to remove your weapons.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.” Din argues but the droid is adamant, “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t board a commercial flight with your weapons.” Din sighs frustrated about having to part with his weapons, “If you wish to discuss this with my supervisor, I will gladly book you on tomorrow’s flight.”

“Fine.” He says taking a card to open the check-in luggage in front of you both. Quickly pull out your blaster, and your vibro-knife placing them inside the crate, you hesitate with your saber before placing it inside. Watching Din as he places his blaster, shakes out the whistling birds, and slides the bullet capsules off his bandolier and you see people boarding the ship as he looks over before speeding up. Pulling out a pair of pliers you didn’t even know he had, the other bandolier he had strapped to his ankle, the charges on his belt, removing the wire from his vambraces coiling it up, before holding out the Darksaber before placing it in the case and closing it. Taking out the card he points at the droid,

“I know everything that’s in there.” “Proceed.” Din gives one last look at the droid before you both board the ship. The passenger lounge area filled with different people with you and Din settled in your seats. You had snatched up the window seat watching as you depart from Glavis Ringworld.

“Hey kid,” Din calls out and you turn away from the window looking at the man, “You were up real early. Try getting some sleep.”

You wave him off turning to look back at the window, “I’m fine…I’m not even tired.”

You snore quietly leaning against Din’s shoulder, it was the second they entered hyperspace you were out. Looking down at you Din fixes the hood that was slowly coming off your head and you shift mumbling something in your sleep before you are fast asleep. Though your mask covered everything minus your eyes he could see the total relaxation in your face the crease between your brows smoothed out as you peacefully dream. Din glances away at the cloth holding the two gifts for his children he only hoped you both enjoyed them. It was tradition for Mandalorians to gift the foundlings with small portions of beskar that they had earned. A flash of movement comes in front of him and he looks meeting the gaze of a Rodian child backward on his seat looking at him. The child stares at him before raising a hand and waving at him, Din makes no notion in return and his mother quickly pulls him back down to sit while scolding the small child. Din sighs trying to relax but he couldn’t with the dreaded news of becoming an apostate, Mandalore had been abandoned for years the planet apparently cursed a toxin for all. If he wished to be accepted again into the clan he would have to figure a way to get to Mandalore and bathe in the living waters…that’s if those even exist anymore.

You're gently awoken as you rub the sleep from your eyes as you follow Din exiting the ship where you see the same security droid waiting with the luggage card, “Welcome to Mos Eisley.” It greets you both as Din puts the card to open the luggage finding all your items still intact. Returning your weapons back to their rightful places and Din is back in full Mandalorian armor plus weapons he returns the card to the droid.

“On behalf of all our crew, thank you for traveling Star Liner Travel. We wish you a pleasant stay and hope to see you again very soon.” The droid wishes well as you both head off into Mos Eisley. It’s been a long time since you’ve been back to Mos Eisley just to your home planet in general, it felt natural being home. The sand beneath your shoes, the dual suns shining down on you the heat however for some unbearable it’s a welcoming feeling. Following Din through the streets before you grow closer to the Mos Eisley docking bay to return to a familiar friend. Entering the bay and heading towards a specific hanger you hear yelling coming from hangar 3-5 as you come down the stairs and Din whips out his blaster firing it at the womp rat killing it.

“Oh, good. Oh, boy!” Peli stands up looking at her savior spotting the two of you, “Hey, look, everyone. It’s Mando.” You see the droids cheer though hesitant with the man’s former anti-droid sentiment. Following behind as you pull off your hood and mask now out of the public eye and the woman spots you.

“Kid? That you! Look at you, you’re all grown up and sweet duds.” She compliments your new outfit and the growth since you were last here.

“What do we owe the pleasure? You here to slay another dragon? Chasing down some elusive bounty?” Peli asks wiping the sand off her pants as she moves around her hangar with the two of you following after, “I got your message.” Din says and she turns to look at you.

“Message? What message?” “You said you found me a replacement for the Razor Crest,” Din says and she snaps her fingers remembering.

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s what I said. That’s what I do. I’ve been working my butt off, yeah. Did you bring the cash?” She holds out her hand and Din pulls out the latest bounty tossing it to her, “It’s right here.”

“Mind if I count it? Not that I don’t trust you. I just wanna make sure you don’t give me too much.” She starts counting them before turning towards where her droids are poking at the dead womp rat, “Hey, droids, make yourself useful. Count this up, and then fire up the grill before that thing gets gamey. Right, this way. Wait till you get your eyes on this baby. So, where is your other unlikely companion?” She says over her shoulder as you follow,

“I returned him to his own kind.” Din explains and Peli gives him the most shocked look, “Why the hell would you do that? I could’ve made good money off that thing. Open a petting zoo.” She grumbles though laughs at her own joke.

“Where’s the ship?” Din asks and Peli gestures to follow to another hangar out from the sun, “Right this way. Ready to have your mind blown?” She says the businesswoman in her coming out as she moves in front of something covered in a tarpaulin before she pulls it off revealing a modified N-1 starfighter. Both of you have two different reactions.

“Holy shit!” “Where’s the Razor Crest?”

“I never said I had a Razor Crest. I said I had a replacement for a Razor Crest.” Peli clarifies though giving pizzazz hands towards the ship and you looking at the ship in awe…all the modifications that could be down. Though Pre-Empire this ship was good but better than the Razor Crest in aspects.

“I don’t have time for this.” Din turns to leave but Peli holds her hands up calling him back, “Hang on a second. Do you have any idea what this is? This is an N-1 starfighter, handmade for the royal guard and commissioned personally by the Queen of Naboo.” She explains slapping her hand on one of the engines and part of the cover falls off and you wince. Yeah, this wasn’t going well

“This is a pile of junk.” He deadpans and Peli sighs, “Do you want your credits back?”

“Yes.” He says and she wipes her hands, “No skin off my dip-swap. Droids, bring this lovely man his money. Here you go. It’s that easy. Sorry to waste your time. Okay?” You give Din a scolding look and he gives one right back both of you silently communicate as Peli sighs dramatically.

“While we’re waiting, can I tell you a little something about this honey?” She asks and Din has no choice but to listen as you both wait for the credits, “I know she doesn’t look like much, but you got here a lot earlier than I expected, and I didn’t get a chance to finish. I mean, clearly, you can see I’ve got all the parts right here,” Din fully pulls out a part of the ship that wasn’t meant to come out none of it fully put together as Peli opens a panel looking in, “Hmm? It all has a home. Okay? Oh, look, a family of scurriers. Let’s not disrupt the nest. You know how hard it is to find all original parts from way back in the Galactic Republic? I mean, these are all handmade. No droids. And not only that, what I’m gonna do, just because I like you, is I’m gonna add on some custom modifications that’ll make her faster than a fathier, and because this baby’s pre-Empire, she’s off the grid.” Peli says continuing to move around the ship as you both look at it. You could see the potential and you really did need a ship unless you were going to continue riding commercial flights or seedy transportation. “And did I mention, she can jump into hyperspace with no docking ring? I mean, come on! You gotta see the potential. Whoo! I’m telling you, Mando, you gotta believe me. This is a classic. Look, at least let me put her together before you decide. Can you give me that?” She says with a convincing tone as you look at Din who is silently looking at the ship before he sighs and nods.

Peli claps her hands together in glee, “There you go. Hmm? Get this baby up and goin’.” Before moving to start working on the ship before glancing at the two of you, “You know, it’d be a lot faster if you two helped.”

You’re already moving forward pulling your bag and cloak off ready to get down and dirty, “Really kid?” Din says seeing you quickly move to help to grab a piece of fabric to pull your hair back away from your face.

“I’m sorry I’m given the chance to work on an N-1 Starfighter yeah I’m not letting this opportunity pass.” You grin. For the first time in a long time, there was a smile on your face and excitement in your eyes and Din didn’t want to see that leave even though Peli is going to make you do all sorts of odd jobs.

“Actually Mando and I have this ship to work on,” Peli says and the smile fades slightly and your shoulders slump. Did she think you weren’t capable of working on this ship? Din could tell her about how you helped with the Razor Crest all the time. “However there is another project I need help with, you get it up and running while we work on this.” She says and you perk up, you get to work on a ship by yourself…you had died and entered heaven. Peli moves to another more secluded part of the hangar to another tarp covering a ship and she pulls it off your jaw drops and you're frozen in shock. Both Din and Peli look at the shocked expression on your face. You haven’t moved an inch just staring at it, if you blink it’s going to disappear.

“Kid-” “Holy kriffing shit!” You yell out in complete awe and jaw as you race toward the ship looking all around it in awe turning the corner and seeing a droid waiting beside it as well as beeps seeing someone. “There’s a droid too!”

“It’s a ship kid.” Din says not fully understanding your excitement and you run around to see Din again, “Not just any ship! This is a T-65B X-wing Starfighter used during the Rebellion and this model!” You point at the ship behind you, “Was used by kriffing Luke Skywalker when he destroyed the Death Star.” You ramble internally and externally freaking out being in the presence of this kind of ship, you whip your head over Peli, “Who’s ship is this, man I would die a happy girl if I ever got to fly this thing.” You sigh looking back at the ship.

“It’s a good thing it’s yours.” “Yeah my ship, she must be a luck-” You cut yourself when you register the words coming from her mouth, and you slowly turn back to face the two adults. “My…my ship?” Your voice cracks and Peli crosses her arms nodding,

“Yeah just need to fix it up since I was working on both at the same time.” Peli explains and you look at Din who looks also confused by this, “I didn’t get this for you.” Now you’re confused if Din didn’t get it then who…

“It’s a gift…” Peli says continuing to work on the N-1 barely glancing at you, “Some Marshal I think pretty good on the eyes told me to find this specific model plus the droid came as a bonus. Said it’s to count for the missed birthdays.” Peli goes back to working on Din’s ship while you turn to look at the X-Wing well your ship. You hear footsteps coming up and you glance at Din whose looking at the ship as well.

“Why didn’t you say your birthday passed?” He asks and you look up and him. He felt guilty being so busy with the bounties and keeping them afloat that he hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that you turned older. It just happened when someone mentioned your age and it switched from seventeen to eighteen. You shrug, “I don’t know, we seemed so busy with other things that it just didn’t seem important.” You completely forgot about your own birthday until you happened to see the date following it and realized you were eighteen. With Tatooine always hot there were no seasons to remind yourself but the only indicator of remembering your birth following your parents’ death was that four days after Empire Day you were born. Though the holiday was no longer celebrated when the day arrived and people would give their disgust and their ill comments to the Empire you would be reminded four days later that would be your birthday. Din goes to speak, to give you the gift resting in his satchel burning with its reminder but he’s called away by Peli.

Looking at the ship you hear a beep coming from your side looking at the droid, it was an astromech model similar to the blue and white one that Skywalker had, this one was red and white though a bit scratched up and dirt compared to the pristine one. “Alright, buddy I’m assuming you’re going to help me fix up this ship?” You ask and it beeps excitedly shaking side to side, “Alright R4 well I’m Y/n very nice to meet you.” You pat the top of its head as it beeps more. You stand up looking at the X-Wing that needed a lot of work.

“Okay let’s get to work.”

It was relaxing to just work at it, every ounce of work put in by your hands as you get it to function status before you could start modifying it. You were deep inside the X-Wing the canopy taken off resting to the side as you sat in the pilot’s seat, well after you had taken out the small nest of scurriers that seemed to have taken base in both yours and Din’s ship. The fusion cutter rest between your teeth as you fuse wires together having to change some of them which resulted in the panel right beside you being taken out showing an inside view of all the wires and parts of the controls.

“R4 turn just the tiniest bit..thank you!” You thank your droid as the light from its arm shines into the panel. Putting the new wire into the panel to have the navigation work the cables long fried and corroded. Climbing out landing on the sand looking over seeing Peli walk in with a turbonic venturi power assimilator.

“Great news! I found you a turbonic venturi power assimilator. You’re gonna be the fastest ship on the Outer Rim.” Peli says entering with the engine part and you come over R4 following behind you as you wipe some of the greases off your hands with a spare rag. Din looks over at the engine part in shock, “Where did you get this?”

“It’s brand-new. Well, Jawa-new.” Peli explains and Din still eyes the part, “The Jawas had a turbonic venturi assimilator from a Galactic Republic-era starfighter?”

“Well, they didn’t have it. They got it.” Peli explains as if it was obvious and anyone who has interacted with Jawas knew that. They were scavengers if you looked away from your belonging longer than a blink a Jawa would come and scoop it up and sell it to someone else.

“From where?” Din questions. “Tatooine is a garden of many bounties.” Peli exaggerates the sand-covered planet.

“I don’t understand.” Still, confused Din asks, “She gave them a list,” You speak up taking a drink of water that one of Peli’s droids was offering. Peli snaps her fingers at you for getting it right. “If you got a decent relation with some Jawas you can ask for things and they’ll find them for you.” You explain. For someone who stole and swindle through their pre-teens, she had gotten a good deal with some Jawas. The items she stole to give her parts that she would give to other Jawas for something better, this working for her speeder and other things she did to improve Mos Pelgo.

“A true Tatooine girl,” Peli says glad someone understood how it worked on this planet. “I don’t ask. They don’t tell. They give me what I ask for. In exchange, I let ’em pick through my dumpster.”

“Can I meet them?” Din asks and Peli nods, “Yeah, sure. R5! See if the Jawas are still out back,” You see the R5 droid zoom around the corner to go fetch the Jawas, “Dated a Jawa for a while. They’re quite furry. Very furry. Lot of issues.” You make a face when she smacks her lips together when speaking about them being furry. You hear the Jawas arriving from the back, “Oh, here they are.” She greets them.

“If I give them a list of parts, could they get them for me?” Din asks and Peli turns translating for Din before turning back to him, “They said make a wishlist and they’ll see what’s available.”

“Okay, I’m looking for mostly bolt-on aftermarket speed mods. This is all hand-built, custom. I’m guessing we need vintage hyperware if it’s gonna fit this antique.” Din says trying to think ahead about what might not be available.

“Listen to you. Don’t worry about the shape and size. Just get the parts you want with the specs you need, and I’m gonna make it work, all right? I dated a Jawa. I know what I’m doing, right?” Peli explains and one of the Jawas makes a comment about what Peli was doing but she waves them off, “Oh, that’s okay. I’m working on me right now. Just go find the parts.”

After Din gave his list to the Jawas and you added in one of your own you returned back to your ship to continue working.

“I don’t know why you’re always in such a hurry. ‘Build me a ship. Fix my blaster holes.’ You know, I never went anywhere, and look how good I got it.” Peli chats to the silent Mandalorian as he works away letting the woman ramble, “You know, I’ve never even been off-world. That’s all right. I’m a local gal. Oh. Let me see that doohickey. Oh, yeah. Oh, that’s good. Good find. What else you got in there?” Din continues working before seeing the vapor manifold is missing,

“The entire vapor manifold is missing.” He brings up but the mechanic waves him off, “Trust me, the last thing you want strangling your thrust capacitor is a vapor manifold. I fabricated you this induction intake charger that’s gonna double your output coefficient.”

“It’ll also blow the shaft out of my motivator block.” He retorts but she shakes her head, “That’s why I’m reinforcing your compression housing, and you can access it by using this Kineso-switch right here. You hit this button, you’re gonna evacuate your exhaust manifold, if you know what I mean.” She flips a cover switch before pointing to a red button. Din has no choice but to listen and hopes she nods to what she’s doing. He had some familiarity with ships him having to be the one to take care of the Crest if they weren’t by anywhere but not a deep knowledge when it comes to experimenting with equipment.

He hears a crash come from a part of the hanger and his head whips to see you laying on the sand laughing your head off as the droid now on its side shakes and beeps frantically as you help it up while still laughing and speaking to it between giggles. Hidden behind beskar a smile grows on his face seeing your own happiness. It seemed too long since you were actually happy and for once you were relaxed though doing manual labor you seemed to enjoy it. Din would glance over at you seeing you work around the X-Wing as you contorted your body to fit in small spaces with the help of your droid. The item in his satchel weighs him down as a reminder but the slight fear of you not liking it holds him back to give it to you. You already seemed so happy with this gift how would you ever like his?

“Okay R4 let’s get some power to this while we wait.” You call out to the droid as it speaks to the MPH power droid that begins working. Sitting down on the sand you take in the pretty good-looking X-Wing, just needs the thruster you hope the Jawas have, a diagnostic check, a cleaning, and maybe a paint job and it’ll be set. You sigh pushing your hair back unintentionally getting grease on your head. You’ll have to take a sonic shower to clean up. The red and white droids come by you as you pat its head and it beeps from the praise, “We’re a pretty good team huh, R4?” It beeps agreeing with your comment. The sound of Jawas entering as they pull a cart of parts.

“That was fast,” Din says astonished by the speed as he looks over the parts some of the others he assumes are for your ship he was surprised by the parts you asked for some he doesn’t know the purpose. “These critters could find a skud in a krill pond. Will that do?” Two Jawas come in holding a cryogenic density combustion booster.

“Where did they get a cryogenic density combustion booster?” You ask looking at the piece in shock, “Do you really wanna know?” Peli asks and you nod genuinely curious as Peli turns to speak to them.

“I got it. They said they crawled under a Pyke spice runner and crimped it off while they were refueling.” Peli says and Din nods, “Gutsy little fellas.”

“Let me tell you something, Pykes do not mess around. Ever since they’ve been moving spice through the system, everything’s gone to hell. Everyone’s afraid of ’em and law enforcement won’t even go near ’em.” Peli warns you both and Din nods taking in the new information, “Well, thanks.” Din says before taking a small bag of credits and tossing it to one they all race off in glee as Peli looks in shock.

“What’d you do that for? You’re gonna spoil ’em. Are you trying to make me look bad?”

Finishing up with the help of Peli’s droid you let R4 run one last diagnostic check while you clean up. You forgot how little the sonic showers did vibrate the grease and dirt off your body, you felt cleaner but you were dying for an actual shower. Maker, you missed the Razor Crest sometimes.

You come out your hair slightly frizzy still wearing your grease-stained clothes and you see the pit droids drive out the now completely silver N-1 fighter minus a stripe of yellow that reminds you of the Crest.

“Looking good.” You comment leaning against a table as Din looks over at the ship nodding “Think she’s ready?” Din asks looking to Peli who wipes her greasy hands onto her dirty jumpsuit.

“Ready as she’ll ever be. Start her up.” She agrees and Din looks at her in surprise.

“Really?” He asks and she nods, “Yeah, start her up.” You smile watching him enter the ship getting comfortable, you see him try to start it up but the engine just sputters,

“It’s not turning over.” Din's voice comes through the comm, “Give it a little bit more juice.” Trying again the engine whirs before roaring to life.

“That’s a lot of engine for a little ship.” “Yeah, well, see what she can do!” Peli says excitedly to see the ship in action.

“Shouldn’t we run a diagnostic first?” Din questions but she reassures him, “Nah! I can hear her! She’s purring! Send her up!” You watch him take the N-1 up into the air before he flies further away from the ship. Peli turns to you seeing you watching the fighter leave,

“Come up let’s get yours out and up in the air.” You look at her surprised before a grin covers your face as you race over to your ship. With the help of Peli’s pit droids, they bring the ship out it is already fueled up and R4 enters the droid port, “Ship good R4.” You ask climbing on the ladder and hopping into the pilot’s seat. R4 beeps confirming your question as the pit droids remove the ladder the helmet that usually came with the X-Wing is long gone as you close up the canopy.

“You ever flown a ship before?” Peli's voice comes through your comms as you begin flipping up switches. Screens and buttons light up as you fire up the engine and it produces a satisfying roar before turning to a hum. You hear R4 fear from your possible first time flying. “A few fun trips that Mando definitely doesn’t know of.” The few times on the Crest when Din was sleeping and you had exited hyperspeed earlier so you took control, you’ve seen him do it a thousand times. You were actually pretty good though you did almost flip the Crest. The blaring of the ship woke up Din and you quickly put the blame on the child he believed it. Though more recently you were off on some planet and Din was off after a quarry while you were back at an inn. You had received a call on your comm from him needing your help and telling you to get there by any means possible. You had booked it finding you at the spaceport and though he never found out stole a starfighter. You had quickly learned on the go avoiding the other ships flying through but also the ones chasing you. You had lied when you arrived that you had stolen a speeder which you did end up doing when you were leaving with Din. He never found out about your little escapade with the starfighter.

Taking the joystick you depart from the hangar looking around at Mos Eisley, “Peli where did Mando head off to?” You ask and she quickly responds, “Told him to head to Beggar’s Canyon I’m sure you can catch up to him.” She says as you flip a switch watching the small screen load, guess you were testing the engine now.

“Yeah I got it, R4 buckle up.” You say as it beeps nervously, “Come on excited beeps…excited beeps.” Your body vibrated with excitement but also nerves as the progress screen just completed, “Alright punch it R4!” The overdrive thruster roars and you’re flying forward speeding toward Beggar’s Canyon. You hear the squeal from the droid as your laughter fills the cockpit. People on the streets feel the gust of air as the X-Wing zooms past them as you make your way after Din.

“Maker kid!” You hear Peli yell out seeing your departure, “What did you do to that ship?!” You grin at the civilization far behind you as the canyon grows closer, your hands grip the joystick adrenaline running through your veins.

“Let’s go R4!” You shout as the canyons appear quickly weaving through the twists and turns, “R4 get in contact with Din,” You say making your wave through the canyon and you hear the transmission go through.

“Din! Where are you at?” You call out reaching the ends of Beggar’s Canyon but finding no starfighter, silence comes through and you call out to him again, “Din…? Din can you hear me? R4 we’re clear, right? Get me Din’s coordinates” You ask and the droid beeps, so you were going through. A beep appears on your navigation system a set of coordinates.

The line cuts and you are frozen in fear..what happened? Did he get caught by someone…did the empire find him? Flipping switches to get the navigation connected to the coordinates sent, “R4 get that thruster ready again.” You say pulling the joystick straight towards you as you fly straight up out of the atmosphere heading towards him.

Din in the N-1 keeps his gaze forward as the two New Republic officers speak to him in their X-Wings. He had gone too fast on a commercial flight but he was more worried that they would recognize him. “Sorry, officer, I got a little carried away there. Transmitting now.” He transmits his beacon as the younger pilot comments, “Hmm. Your engine model doesn’t match your power drive.”

“We just built her. I was taking her up for a test flight. Haven’t been able to update the registration just yet.” Din explains,

“We’re gonna need to see your title tabs. Send us a ping.” The pilot requests and Din curses slightly under his breath, “Yeah, sorry, officer, but my transmitter isn’t hooked up yet. I’ll head right back to Mos Eisley and get it sorted out.” Silence fills the space and the man speaks up,

“Relinquish your flight controls for remote-control access.” “Hold on a second there, Lieutenant. I think we can let him off with a warning this time.” The other pilot speaks up and Din sighs in relief.

“Thank you, officer. I’ll have that taken care of.” He thanks him preparing to leave, “One thing before you go.” He freezes definitely recognizing the voice of the other pilot.

“Yes?” “Your voice is mighty familiar. Did you used to fly a Razor Crest?” He asks. Kriff he was screwed but he just had to keep his head clear. He should have taught the kid how to fly, you were probably with Peli waiting for him to return.

“I think you have the wrong guy, officer.”

“That ship showed up on a transponder log back in Nevarro in an incident involving Imperial remnants. I’m just connecting some dots here. You mind answering a few questions?” The man says and Din slowly turns his head to look at the pilot to his left. Yeah, he knew him and that guy knew him.

“Hey officers, I would like to report a crime.” A new voice enters the transmission and suddenly both ships are spinning out of control Din takes the opportunity to travel sublight straight toward Tatooine. Both ships stabilize as the officers look seeing the same model ship before them. Reed and Teva see a girl wave at them before the ship jolts forward deep into space before they could go after and realize the Mandalorian is gone too.

“How did it jump? She didn’t even power up her hyperdrives.” Reed asks Teva as the older pilot thinks back remembering the young girl's voice on that Razor Crest the same one coming from the X-Wing.

“Didn’t jump, kid. Modified engine, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Teva responds and Reed sighs looking at his transmission, “There’s no trace of him or the girl on our sensors. We reporting this?”

“You want to go back to base, fill out reports all day?” Teva asks with a chuckle and Reed thinks about it before responding, “No, sir.”

Din arrives back at the hangar landing the canopy sliding open as Peli comes over, “Whoo! Well? How was it?”

“Wizard.” He responds climbing out and Peli chuckles right as another ship arrives maneuvering to land beside his ship. The canopy flips open and not even waiting for the ladder you’re bounding off landing on the sand as the astromech droid removes itself from its port.

“Yeah, I can die happy with this thing.” You say running your hand along the nose of the ship a grin on your face. Din was surprised to see you flying the ship, especially your arrival with the New Republic.

“When did you learn to fly like that?” Din asks and you freeze slightly, “Umm I’m naturally gifted..” You lie on the spot and he knows you’re clearly lying, “Okay I may have flown the Crest a few times…and also stolen a starship during your weeklong bounty.” You rapidly spill out the ending and he barely catches it.

He was less mad about the Crest at least he was there but you stealing a ship. “Kid.” He gets ready to scold you but Peli quickly jumps in.

“Mando you gotta admire it, you should’ve seen her fly. Whatever you did to that ship…Maker, you got a gift.” She compliments and you smile before giving a look at Din. See someone appreciates me fixing ships, “Those J-type pulse engines really tighten the old evacuation port, don’t they? Oh, by the way, an old friend of yours dropped by, said she was looking for you.” She says remembering what she was meant to tell you both. You look at Din confused he didn’t really have friends, especially women.

“A friend of mine?” He says and Peli waves him in reassurance, “Don’t worry. I told her I didn’t know where you were. Then I locked her out and engaged the hangar security system.”

“She tell you her name?” Din asks trying to think of who it might be.

“Fennec Shand.” A shriek comes from Peli as Fennec’s voice comes through the intercom. There resting on a high platform the former assassin as she begins scaling down.

“I thought you said that the hangar security system was on,” She looks over at her droids that start running from her scolding, “Don’t get away from me. You come right back here. This is the third mistake this week. Someone’s getting deprogrammed.”

“By any chance, are you looking for work?” Fennec comes to stand before you two, “I could be.”

“The pay is good.” Fennec brings up a bag of credits tossing it to Din as he weighs it, “What’s the bounty?” He asks and she shakes her head.

“No bounty. We need muscle.” She explains, “For Boba Fett.” You say and she nods looking over at you quickly taking in this older version of yourself. You did meet when you were covered in blood and trying to kill…well him.

Fennec nods, “He sure would appreciate it.” She says and Din returns the bag, “Tell him it’s on the house. But first, I got to pay a visit to a little friend.” Hearing his response you had a feeling you knew who it was you were visiting.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #the book of boba fett #clan of three series #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x teen!reader #mando x reader

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radiantresplendence · 1 year

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Can we stop giving the right to rule Mandalore to Bo Katan, please?

This woman’s faction has fumbled leadership of the Mandalorian people no less than 4 times in her lifetime with her being a prominent individual every time. Her reformist sister took the title of Duchess after an ideological conflict on the Mandalorian homeworld and rather than acting as a voice of tradition to her sister, she joined a faction opposing the current government in Death Watch. Death Watch eventually gained control of the planet, ousting Satine Kryze with the support of the Shadow Collective. The Shadow Collective’s leader eventually challenged the leader of Death Watch to solo combat for control of the faction and was successful. Bo Katan abdicated Death Watch. Bo Katan then allied with the Galactic Republic to attempt a coup. This is successful and Bo Katan becomes leader of Mandalore. The Empire at some point purges the planet, destroying the surface with fusion bombs and scattering Mandalorian refugees throughout the galaxy. Somehow Moff Gideon gets The Darksaber come the end of the Galactic Civil War. Din Djarin wins The Darksaber from Gideon by besting him in solo combat. He defends his ownership of the weapon from challenges by Bo Katan and Paz Vizsla. The Mandalorian refugees Bo Katan was running with as de facto leader abandon her leadership as she failed to prove worthy of wielding the ceremonial weapon. I was more than happy to have Din Djarin become leader of the Mandalorians, but honest to god, Bo Katan doesn’t need a fifth chance. If any non-Din character in The Mandalorian deserves to lead Mandalore its the Armorer, not the person who has fumbled the right to do so 4 times in 20 or so years and left Mandalore in the worst position its ever been in continuity.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #din djarin #bo katan kryze

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tobytost · 7 months

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exploding jedi sabine with my mind

sabine actually is just so cool that she developed invisible weapons that she's pretending are the force because she thinks it's funny. jedi sabine is not real dave filoni is pranking me

idk dude I'm so frustrated

Sabine doesn't have to have the force to be relevant to the story or cool in the eyes of the viewers

they downgraded her character only for her to go through the exact same arc she did in rebels, but in rebels she was a scared teenager trying to face her own past and emotions and open up about it

Sabine doesn't need to be a jedi, she needs a therapist

her character was always surrounded by her mandalorian identity, that's her culture, her upbringing

family, weapons, armour, language, traditions and her sense of responsibility to her people

the show never once went deeper to her mandalorian identity than the "oh she's so stubborn cause she's a mando" and it frustrates me to no end

and ough I have so many thoughts but I'm too emotional right now to formulate them correctly

#asks #i don't know #:(

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jedimandalorian · 8 months

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“What is the wedding sword tradition?

The Viking marriage sword exchange is a tradition that dates back to the Viking Age, which lasted from the late 8th century to the mid-11th century. The ritual involves the bride and groom exchanging swords during the wedding ceremony. The sword exchange is a symbol of the couple’s commitment to each other and their willingness to protect and defend each other.

During the ceremony, the groom would present his sword to the bride, who would then accept it and give him her own sword in return. This act symbolized the couple’s willingness to share their lives and to protect and defend each other. It also represented the bride’s acceptance of her new role as a warrior’s wife and her willingness to stand by her husband’s side in battle.”—from Viking.style

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."—Mandalorian wedding vows.

A lightsaber’s crystal bonds with the person who created the blade, and the saber itself symbolizes the Jedi’s life. It is a representation all that they are and hope to be.

“This weapon is your life.”—Obi-Wan Kenobi.

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars #ahsoka series #sabezra #star wars rebels

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antianakin · 2 months

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Do you think you’d like Mandos if they were more like Vikings? I think I heard from somewhere that’s what they were based off of. If they were anything like the TV show Vikings I would be behind them 100%. Imagine if they made Boba more like Ragnar instead of the Feloni version.

I can't quite tell if you're asking me if I'd like Mandalorians if they were written to be more like actual real life vikings or if they were writing more like the way the characters are written in the fictional TV show Vikings, but my answer is going to be similar either way. I don't know enough about either regular viking culture or the way the show Vikings chose to depict them to really be able to answer either way.

The thing I think you're remembering is that I believe it's been said that Lucas chose to bring in Mandalorians as a concept into TCW but changed them up to be more like "pacifist Vikings" (which is why they look the way they do in TCW) because he found that an intriguing concept despite how little it had to do with the way Mandalorians had been depicted in Legends up until then. And that concept mostly seems to come across as like "a group of people who were known for being very violent and doing a lot of pillaging and raiding and fighting in their past but it got to the point where they were so violent that they nearly destroyed themselves and their new leader has enforced a pacifist lifestyle in an effort to keep them from going completely extinct." I don't know that it necessarily took a lot from actual viking culture or traditions beyond that.

The reason I dislike the Mandos is more about the way they're written and the way fans tend to interpret them (especially in relation to the Jedi) than anything else. There's also the issue of like... the contradictions between Legends Mandos, Lucas's Mandos, and Disney/Favroni canon Mandos. People have tried REALLY REALLY HARD to fit in Legends Mando stuff with Lucas's canon Mandos, which leads to this idea that while Lucas shows Mandos as like... very black and white with Death Watch being the more traditional violent version and Satine being the modern pacifist version, there is actually some sort-of in-between that can exist. This is where you get the "True Mandalorians" and characters like Jaster and Jango and even newer characters like Din and, to some degree, Bo-Katan. There's this idea that you can be a violent person who works in something like bounty hunting and still be a good honorable person. Din is someone who does not CARE who he kills so long as he gets paid to do it when we first meet him (his whole catchphrase is "I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold" which tells his marks that he doesn't care if he has to kill them to get the job done), he's even initially fine with child trafficking being a part of his job description and BARELY ends up turning around to rescue Grogu after he's already been paid. And while I understand that this can make for some interesting character work and that a lot of people really enjoy the more morally ambiguous nature of this kind of character, these flaws and nastier choices often get brushed under the rug by their fans to try to portray them as better people than they are.

And of course, this often also ends up leading people to represent these characters, these "True Mandos" as the epitome of what a person should be. That these are people who truly understand honor and love and family, often as a direct contrast to the Jedi specifically. Even though these are people who hunt and kill others FOR A LIVING and are still choosing their leaders based on who can fight well enough to acquire one specific weapon. This is still a culture based primarily around violence, towards each other and towards the rest of the world. This doesn't mean these characters cant' be INTERESTING or ENJOYABLE, but too many people sit there and act like Mandos, especially "True" Mandos, are some sort-of mystical better than everyone else beings instead of the IMMENSELY flawed people that they are who would honestly be much better off if they were more like the Jedi.

This is one of the reasons I initially liked Sabine so much in Rebels, because we see how she has to learn a LOT of Jedi lessons about patience and mercy and sacrifice from Kanan that she's able to then apply to her Mandalorian heritage so that she can recognize which parts of their traditions are worth holding on to (the armor that's been passed down for generations and holds a lot of spiritual meaning regarding connections to their ancestors) and which are not (killing your enemies instead of showing mercy, being forced to be a leader just because she happens to be wielding this one specific weapon even though she's not ready or interested in the position). Notice that the things worth keeping about her culture are the things that are specifically NOT VIOLENT IN NATURE.

I think people also regularly overestimate how important and competent Mandos even are, True, New, or otherwise. We ROUTINELY see Mandos get their asses handed to them, by Jedi, by the Empire, by Rebels. There seems to be this pervasive idea that Mandos could change the course of the galaxy, that Mandos are the BEST fighters in the galaxy and if only they were around to help, they would be able to beat everyone else, and it just. Isn't true. They're good at BEING VIOLENT, sure, but this doesn't actually equate to being a better fighter than anyone else. They're so good at being violent that they keep just... exterminating their own people out of sheer stupidity to the point that they're not a real threat to ANYBODY. They destroy their own planet to the point that it's practically uninhabitable, they refuse to have a civil discussion with a group that is clearly outgunning them and then act surprised when this ends up with all of them fucking dead, they make themselves neutral in a galactic civil war and then act surprised when that means trade dries up, they lead two Sith lords and FOUR crime organizations onto their planet and then act surprised when they end up ousted out of their own leadership and instead accidentally end up with a Sith lord as a leader because he beheaded the Mando guy. Mandos IN GENERAL are just reckless, irresponsible, arrogant assholes, no matter which flavor they come in. They can't even help THEMSELVES let alone the rest of the galaxy.

And to some degree, I think that's part of the point of the Mandos in Lucas's canon, that they're just... total flops most of the time. They're an intentional foil to the Jedi in that they are a culture that RELIES on violence as a cornerstone of their behavior and worldview and never see peace as an option whereas the Jedi relies on peace always being an option and violence is just a last resort as a recognition that many other people don't share their desire for peace. The whole point of Mandos in Lucas's canon and even in Rebels to some degree is that their way of life is BAD and not one that SHOULD be preserved the way that it is. If the Mandos don't figure out how to change, they ARE going to just die out, not because anyone sees them as a threat and wants them eliminated, but because their own arrogance and stupidity is just inevitably going to cause their own end. The Mandos are a CAUTIONARY TALE more than anything else.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that isn't true about the vikings in the Vikings show. You're clearly rooting for them, so I have to assume that you don't view these characters and the culture they're representing as a cautionary tale about what NOT to do or be like. And that's fine, that show is clearly doing something very different with its story and the themes and messages it's sending than Lucas was doing with Star Wars. And I think shows like The Mandalorian are trying to do something similar by making their sort-of violently morally ambiguous character and his culture something you root for rather than a cautionary tale. Which... fine, in the vacuum of the story we had within the first two seasons of the show, that worked out okay. But as it's expanded outward into the greater Star Wars saga, this has become more and more of an issue because the Mandos AREN'T characters you root for in regular Star Wars. They just aren't, especially the variety that Din and Bo-Katan tend to represent. They're usually villains or antagonists for the more genuinely heroic characters, there to either be an obstacle or to represent the consequence of selfish choices. But Filoni and Favreau are SO insistent on making the Mandos the heroes AND on making them like the Legends Mandos they grew up on that these messages are getting flattened and lost entirely.

So I guess my answer to this question is that no, I don't necessarily think that the Mandos would be more enjoyable if they were more like the vikings, either the real ones or the fictional ones, because they just straight up aren't the heroes of this story and their entire culture as per Lucas's canon, the one based around violence as a first answer to everything, is intended to be a cautionary tale rather than something we root for. I think that the Mando culture as we know it isn't something that can be glorified and romanticized and still feel like it remains within the themes of Star Wars.

#star wars #mandalorian critical #mando critical #mandalorian culture critical #mando culture critical

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better-call-mau1 · 1 year

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Congratulations! You’re being smothered with a completely random headcanon about Mandalorian marriage customs rescued! Please do not resist.

The Rite of Riduurok Akaanir, aka “Lover’s Quarrel”

Alright…so I gotta be honest and say that even though I can’t remember how exactly this headcanon came to me, I’ve been carrying it around for years, ever since first watching Rebels and shipping Sabezra 😅 …and at this point, I feel like it’s burning a hole in my head, trying desperately to get out, so I’m gonna save myself the expense of reconstructive cranial surgery and just share it:

Mandalorians like to fight. Actually, they don’t just like to fight, “weapons are a part of [their] religion,” or at least their culture—and for many, their entire lives are built around that. In the case of the Children of the Watch, strict adherence to a No-Living-Being-Can-See-You-With-Your-Helmet-Off orthodoxy even gets in the way of basic interpersonal behavior, like eating a meal together. The implications of that are…interesting…and not in a “wow that’s cool!” way…more like a “kark, that’s depressing” way.

Basically, I started to wonder how the “BAM! BOOM! BAM! BOOM! BLOW STUFF UP AND KILL THOSE FORCE-WIELDING MANIACS!” portion of Mandalorian culture (so…most of it?) intersects with intrinsic parts of human…wait, nope, sorry Grogu sentient life—namely romantic intimacy. (Paz Vizsla has, presumably, not taken his helmet off in decades…and he has a son who’s probably 12ish years old, tops…so do you think he ever stares at his kid and tries parsing out his own features to get an idea of what his wife looks like?) It’s an extreme example from an extreme sect, but there’s application to Mandalorian society as a whole. Where does love fit into a worldview or galaxy-view, I guess where conflict is a core tenet? When do individuals stop existing as warriors and start existing as people? Do they ever?

Anyway, the point is that on its face, the cultural dogma doesn’t seem to leave much room for authentic social and romantic intimacy, especially the latter since, ya know, the beskar has to come off both literally and figuratively in order to procreate. It’s difficult for me to see how the necessity of physical and emotional vulnerability can coexist with the rest of Mando culture—so let’s just leave it at that.

But for a civilization to survive as long as Mandalore has without totally disintegrating, those intimate relationships have to exist, and there’s plain evidence that they do. For all their problems, the Wren family clearly loves each other, and we even get a glimpse of some soft Alrich/Ursa PDA in “Heroes of Mandalore.” Then there’s Bo-Katan, who still cares deeply for her sister despite…well…joining a terrorist faction to help overthrow her. That says something, right?

Wrapping my mind around how authentic love can exist in a fictional warrior society really got me thinking—so much so that I headcanoned a ritual (Riduurok Akaanir, “Lover’s Quarrel”) to help myself work it all out.

The general idea? On Mandalorian wedding nights, the bride and groom have a private duel. A duel to the death? Maybe if it’s an arranged marriage and one party really wants out and I’m gonna speculate that Bo-Katan widowed herself at least four times before running off to join Death Watch.

More commonly, though, it’s just a playful act to embody love transcending conflict. Alrich Wren, for example, isn’t a traditional warrior, but Ursa didn’t assert her superior combat prowess on their wedding night by firing a wrist rocket at his face something Bo-Katan probably did to a few of the short-lived husbands Satine picked out for her. (“Parry this, you kriffing casual.”) Instead, I’d like to think Alrich and Ursa went through the basic motions of a hand-to-hand duel, not necessarily to prove who’s the better warrior, but as an intimate prelude to the actual consummation of their marriage—almost like a mutually disarming dance. (Could it be light-heartedly competitive? Sure! As the first Mando to perform the Riduurok Akaanir with a Jedi, Sabine would go all-out to make sure she doesn’t lose to Ezra! 😆) When the dance-duel ends, they set aside their warrior identities to become something more: husband and wife. It’s like a way of saying, “As Mandalorians, what we do is fight, but we’re more than mere weapons. We fight so we can love. We wear armor to protect ourselves, our homes, and our families. It’s an important part of who we are, but we’re ultimately made of flesh and blood, not cold beskar.”

So that’s the point of Riduurok Akaanir, a term I came up with using this nifty English to Mando’a online translator (before I just called it “Wedding Night Fight” in my head). It’s not supposed to be a blanket explanation—but intimacy and vulnerability don’t have clear utility in a warrior culture, and this is my best attempt at bridging that perceived gap.

If you made it down this far without dozing off, enjoy this Sabezra incorrect quote! 😁

Fenn Rau: I trust that Sabine briefed you on Mandalorian wedding customs?

Ezra: Yep! I know exactly how not to get myself killed before officially becoming a married man.

Rau: The trick is not getting yourself killed *after* becoming a married man. Did she explain what happens on the wedding night?

Ezra: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Rau:

Ezra:...yeahthatsnotreallysomethingIneedorwantSabinetoexplaintomeandKanankindofgavemethelowdownbackduringmyJeditrainingdayssoIthinkIknowwhattodobutthanksanyway.

Rau: Kanan taught you about the Mandalorian ‘lover’s quarrel,’ then? His instruction was even more thorough that I imagined. Or maybe he always knew you and Sabine would end up together.

Ezra: Sorry, did you say...?

Rau: The Rite of Riduurok Akaanir is usually non-fatal. Sabine seems to be genuinely fond of you, so I’m sure you’ll survive to see the sunrise.

Ezra:

Ezra: Oh kriff.

#the mandalorian #bo katan kryze #sabine wren #ezra bridger #sabezra #ursa wren #alrich wren #ursa x alrich #fenn rau #star wars rebels #mandalorian culture #Attorney Maul’s Headcanons #Lover’s Quarrel Rite

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communistkenobi · 1 year

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may I ask what’s the version of Bo Katan that exists in your brain? For me, she works best as the type of person who is attempting to better themselves but they’re so accustomed to hedonistic behavior and have such feeble morality that they always regress and their only guideline of how to handle situations is “whatever benefits me the most at the moment and takes the responsibility of my own actions from my hands” . She behaves pretty consistently like this in Clone wars, while rebels is her “I’m trying to be better” period (but her characterization is super weak there) and I guess mando is her regression?

I would enjoy it if she served a similar function as Maul did, basically as a Mandalorian version of Sisyphus in space - all of her quests for power turn to ash, her victories eventually all sour, and she seems to learn very little from any of these failures. Like I think Bo-Katan would function as a fantastic personification of the most violent of Mandalorian tendencies, pursuing power to prove that she deserves the glory her family name bestows upon her. Despite her weird jabs about Din’s beliefs being too traditional, she embodies the ultimate return to tradition: one of violent Mandalorian conquest, legitimised by wielding a weapon that can only be won through violence, spearheaded by Mandalorian aristocracy.

I know The Mandalorian is stupid and incoherent but the show gives the impression that Din’s covert holds the beliefs that they do out of some social or political necessity, that hiding their face is an individual expression of their collective retreat underground, literally living in sewers to escape imperial persecution. That is a very different historical trajectory than Bo-Katan’s, being raised as royalty and tethering her Mandalorian identity to that royal upbringing. Boba Fett calls her princess in a pejorative way, but that’s literally true! She is a princess. And ideally I would like to see that play out in a post-Imperial galaxy where the name “Kryze” loses more and more social influence by the day. She’s a princess of a glassed planet and has no power, no base of support, and now no castle. She’s the queen of nothing. And I want to see her in all her complexity at that new low, as both vicious and petty and cruel while also being deeply pathetic and pitiable, perhaps even sympathetic. I want her to act like a fucking roy sibling would on Succession if their dad died and their company went bankrupt

#asks #mando.txt #mando meta

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thefrogdalorian · 4 months

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Dincember Day 20: Celebration

Word Count: 2789 Rating: General Summary: To show Din how much he means to you, you decide to make a special gesture in celebration of him by cooking him a traditional Mandalorian feast. Despite having your heart set on a perfect evening, a certain green child has other ideas... Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: I was so excited to write this one! I love me some emotional hurt/comfort almost as much as I love writing Grogu as a little chaos gremlin. Cooking important meals can be stressful at any time of year but especially around the holiday season, shoutout to anyone who has cooking duties this year!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

The level of care that Din showed towards you never failed to make you feel like the luckiest person in the entire galaxy, that you were the person he had chosen to spend his life with. You were very fortunate that his formidable array of skills meant that he had accumulated enough credits to spoil you in so many different ways; from vacations in cabins to the most beautiful snowy spots to celebrate Life Day, to the small gifts and food he sometimes he brought home for you and even the fire pit that he had constructed outside of your cabin… you never wanted for anything.

While it was nice to want for nothing and know that Din would always be able to take care of you in that sense, it was far from the main reason that you loved him and were so grateful to be his life partner. Your gratitude ran deeper than simply materialism. You loved Din because he was so attentive to your every need, as well as Grogu's. You almost couldn’t believe his generosity and kindness, that the warmth of the man underneath the armour was such a stark contrast to the hard, Beskar-clad warrior that he was known to so much of the galaxy as.

You did your best to make sure that he never doubted your gratitude by thanking him over and over, to which he would always respond that it was no less than what should be done for a loved one and by reminding you constantly how much he loved you. You knew that Din did not conduct himself in such a caring way because he sought praise or thanks because for him it was just the right thing to do. Din Djarin was a man who cared passionately about the well-being of his loved ones; you knew he would go to the ends of the galaxy, if needed, to ensure your happiness.

In your mind, that was all the more reason to do something special for Din, to let him know how grateful you were and how much you loved him. There were so many options to celebrate your favourite Mandalorian, but finding something you knew he would enjoy required careful thought. You could obviously buy him something, but he really was not a materialistic person. His most precious items were his armour and weapons, you did not know enough about them to shop for something that would be to his taste. While your knowledge of beskar’gam and weapons remained limited, you had done your own research into Mandalorian culture and had your own understanding of things that were important to them. That research, combined with tidbits Din told you about Mandalorian culture, meant that you knew how important food was in their way of life. Food was a pivotal part of Mandalorian culture because it fuelled the warriors and gave them strength in battle.

With that in mind, you eventually settled on the idea of cooking Din a meal to show him how appreciative you were of everything he did for your little Clan. A plan formed in your head, involving the High Magistrate of Nevarro, Greef Karga, to distract Din for a few hours while you prepared the feast. You had thoroughly researched the dishes you would serve: a spicy Mandalorian casserole called Tiingilar followed by something sweet afterwards, you would bake a batch of Uj’alayi. Both dishes were staples of Mandalorian cuisine; you had no doubt that Din would be thrilled with your efforts to treat him to something special.

You knew that for much of his life, Din had not had the privilege of sharing a meal with his loved ones, given his upbringing and the Creed he had sworn. There were many lonely mealtimes where his tribe would scatter and eat their food in private, secluded from each other to uphold their vow to never reveal their face in front of another living being. Since he had met you, though, and begun taking his helmet off in your presence, Din had come to know the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with his family, with the people he loved. He had also learned to savour food, rather than merely inhaling it before he moved onto the next job.

A meal would be the perfect way to not only celebrate how much Din meant to you but also how far he had come as a person since you had met him. You were sure it would be an incredible evening, full of laughter and good food.

“Grogu!” You barked at the child who was levitating a knife, “Put that down!”

You had been running around the kitchen like a headless tip-yip for the entire day to prepare the celebratory feast for Din. But unfortunately, there was a little green child who was determined to thwart your plans. Every time your back was turned momentarily, Grogu was wreaking havoc in the kitchen. Whether it was levitating utensils with the Force to get your attention because he was bored that you were neglecting him or stealing ingredients that rested on the counters, the child was behaving like an absolute menace.

Usually you loved Grogu’s personality; his cheekiness and abilities with the Force always brightened your day. But not today. You were stressed out, fearing that you had taken on too much. Hiding your plan for the surprise meal and the ingredients you had purchased the previous day from Din had been incredibly difficult. You hated lying to him; you believed you were terrible at it, as though he knew you so well that he would undoubtedly sense your dishonesty.

But Din had left for the appointment that Greef Karga had scheduled with him. Unbeknownst to Din, the appointment was made at your request as part of a wider plot. Ostensibly, Greef wanted to update Din on the latest news on Nevarro but in actuality, it was a ruse to get Din away from the cabin so you could prepare the feast. You thought that keeping Grogu here would give Din some time away from looking after his son and the chance to catch up with the man who was probably his closest friend on this planet. Grogu could be quite demanding, as you were discovering for yourself. Perhaps deciding to have him around while you attempted to prepare this feast had been overly optimistic on your part, you had underestimated just how little Grogu could be trusted around food.

Things had started off well, the Uj cakes had been baked and left in the conservator to cool. You had allowed Grogu to clean the bowls and spoons you had used and the child had wasted no time licking every last remnant of the sweet, sticky mixture. That had kept him satisfied for a while. Until you had come to prepare the main dish: a spicy casserole called Tiingilar that you were sure Din would love. You had just finished chopping the vegetables when Grogu had decided that levitating a knife was a sharp idea. You were growing increasingly exasperated with him but trying not to show it. After all, you suspected that he just missed his father. The two never liked to be parted for any prolonged period, their bond was so strong. After everything they had been through together, you completely understood the anxiety that came whenever they were parted.

Grogu seemed to listen after you admonished him about the knife though; he was surprisingly well-behaved while you finished preparing the Tiingilar. You gave a deep sigh of relief as you completed the final step, pouring the mixture of meat and vegetables into the dish, ready for baking.

“Almost there, buddy,” You said aloud to yourself as much as to Grogu once the Tiingilar was finally cooking.

With the Tiingilar finally in the nano-wave cooker, your next step was to change out of the clothes you had been wearing, now sweaty and stained thanks to the exertion of cooking. You knew that Din would be back soon. you wanted to look presentable for him, despite the frazzled mess that you currently felt like.

You picked out one of your favourite outfits that Din had complimented you on before and appreciated your appearance in the mirror. Now slightly more presentable, you turned your attention to setting the table for you and Din, complete with flowers and candles to really make it feel like a special evening.

You were just putting the finishing touches to the table, when you heard the unmistakable sound of Din’s speedbike approaching the cabin. At almost the exact same moment, the nano-cooker chimed to indicate that the Tiingilar was finished and you practically skipped to the kitchen to retrieve it, feeling incredibly proud that you had timed everything to perfection. Din was going to walk through the door to a steaming hot portion of one of his favourite foods from childhood.

You removed the Tiingilar from the nano-cooker, placing it on the side as you rushed back to greet Din.

“Cyare?” Din called, after entering the cabin. “What’s all this?” He questioned, gesturing towards the table laid specially for your feast. His helmet was tucked under his arm and his eyebrows were raised, clearly stunned at the scene before him.

“It’s for you, Din. I wanted to do something to celebrate you and show you how thankful I am for all you do for me and Grogu,” You smiled, loving how genuinely surprised he seemed at the sight. “I made you a couple of dishes that I think you’ll like. You can change into something more comfortable while I dish them up, if you’d like,” You offered with a smile.

“That’s…that’s so kind of you,” Din smiled, appearing genuinely moved at the effort you had gone to for him. Din closed the distance between you, bringing his arms around your waist as he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly. “Thank you, cyare,” He whispered.

Then Din disappeared off to your room to change from his beskar’gam into something less appropriate for battle to enjoy the meal in, while you walked back into the kitchen to dish the Tiingilar up. Or, at least, that’s what you intended to do. It seemed that a little green menace had other ideas, though.

“GROGU!” You bellowed at the mischievous child, sitting on the counter next to what had been, just moments before, a delicious portion of Tiingilar. “THAT WASN’T ALL FOR YOU!”

“Muh?” Grogu replied questioningly, his ears drooping downwards. He looked up at you with innocent brown eyes, his face and hands completely covered in the meal you had spent all day preparing.

“What’s wrong?” Din asked softly from the doorway. You turned to him in slow motion, waiting to gauge his reaction once he realised the extent of his son’s treachery. It did not take him long to piece together the situation, though.

You expected Din to bellow and perhaps wag a finger at the little green menace in the distinctively fatherlike manner that you had witnessed so many times. But instead of that, you watched as Din’s face crumpled up and he began to laugh. With his eyes shut and hand flying up to his stomach to attempt to contain his belly laughs, it was a heartwarming sight to see him so joyful.

“Din, I’m so sorry,” You offered, despite his apparently positive reaction to this development, you still felt terrible.

“Sorry? It’s not your fault!” Din smirked, “Grogu is the one who ate it, not you.”

“I should’ve been watching him…” You sighed frustratedly.

“Look, don’t beat yourself up. It isn’t the first time something like this has happened,” Din reminded you and your mind instantly went back to the hot chocolate fiasco a few days prior.

“I guess,” You nodded in agreement. “I’m just so frustrated because I spent all day making this kriffing Tiingilar!” You exclaimed.

“Wait… Tiingilar?” Din asked, a peculiar look suddenly sweeping across his features.

“Yes, Din,” You affirmed. “I researched Mandalorian culture and tried to pick something you’d like,” You added quickly, panicking that you had somehow offended him.

But his response indicated that you had done nothing as the sort, as he dissolved into fits of laughter once again.

“What is it?” You asked, fearing that you had missed some sort of joke along the way.

“Well, if you prepared it according to traditional recipes, I think Grogu eating our evening meal is the least of our worries,” Din said breathlessly. “It’s famously an incredibly spicy dish. It causes something we call hetikles in Mando’a, which means noseburn, to you.”

You frowned slightly, but then as you began to piece together the misery that the dish was surely about to bring to Grogu’s little body, your eyes widened in horror at first. But then, you started to smile too. “That’ll teach him,” You smirked.

As if on cue, a little sneeze sounded behind you. You twisted your head around and noticed the way Grogu's eyes seemed to have widened in horror. You gathered that he understood the extent of his predicament.

“There we go,” Din nodded, rushing over to scoop Grogu up, before the full extent of the Tiingilar’s power could make itself known.

“How is he?” You asked as Din returned from Grogu’s room where the errant child had eventually been taken to rest after several flagons of ice cold water and blue milk to aid his digestion of the spicy meal.

“He’s alright now,” Din smiled. “The worst of it is over.”

“I’m sorry, Din. I really wanted this to be a nice, relaxing evening to celebrate how incredible you are. I didn’t expect it to turn into you having to help Grogu through that,” You sighed.

“Would you please stop apologising?” Din asked as he came to sit next to you on the couch. “Look, with a kid like Grogu, it happens. I appreciate the gesture and how much thought you put into preparing food that is culturally significant for me. Grogu eating the meal doesn’t diminish all the effort you put into it. I really appreciate it.”

“You deserve it, Din,” You smiled, as Din wrapped his arm around your shoulders tightly. “You deserve everything.”

“Thank you, cyare,” Din hummed, bringing you to him and kissing your temple softly.

But your mind was still turning over events, upset at how this evening had turned out. You felt awful about the whole thing. “At least he didn’t find the Uj’alayi,” You sighed, still utterly despondent despite Din’s words that this perfect evening you had planned had descended into such a catastrophe.

“Cyare, it’s fine. I’ll hop on the speedbike and head back into town, pick something up from that stall we both like in the town centre,” Din offered. “Really, I’m not mad at all. And I’m looking forward to the Uj cakes! We can make Tiingilar together, another time. Plus I don’t think Grogu will ever want to eat another portion of it…” Din added, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” You asked, “I mean, you don’t mind going to town and you really aren’t disappointed?”

“You could never disappoint me,” Din said earnestly, with so much conviction in those brown eyes that it took your breath away. “I really don’t mind, I’m sure it will cheer both of us up. I don’t want all the effort you put into laying this table and making Uj’alayi to go to waste.”

“Okay, thank you Din,” You said appreciatively. “I’ll make you Tiingilar another time, I promise.”

“I can’t wait,” Din beamed at you. “Plus, if it’s any consolation, it smelled amazing,” Din shrugged and then winked at you.

As Din headed out of the door, dressed once again in his beskar’gam, to return to town and pick up a meal for the two of you to share, you were once again struck by an almost-overwhelming feeling of gratitude. Instead of turning the disappointment Din surely felt at not being able to enjoy a treasured dish into anger at you, he had made you laugh and feel better about the entire situation. It was just another reason that exemplified why you loved him so much and proved how much he deserved to be celebrated.

Although the reality had not gone entirely to plan and the lingering guilt that he deserved a perfect evening, you were thrilled that Din was still appreciative of the effort you had put into the evening, into honouring his culture. And really, the imperfections were pretty characteristic of the two of you and the way you spent your lives together. It may have been a clumsy way to celebrate your favourite Mandalorian, but nonetheless, it was still a celebration.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #loved writing this so much !!

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