#mando is like 'this kid is some kind of wizard'

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

AFS: Deleted Scene

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst/comfort

Word Count: 1,905

Summary: When you asked Mando if there was anything you should know about Grogu when you were hired, this was the kind of thing he should've mentioned.

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#7.5: LIKE THE WIZARDS

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The backyard had a little bubbling pond that seemed to stem from an underground hot spring. You always worried about Grogu getting too close because you weren’t sure of the acidity or heat of the water, but Mando had assured you it was safe. Apparently it had critters living in and out of it which made it safe and habitable, but you learned the only reason the little boy continually tried to get to the pond was because of said critters. You joked that Grogu was your little green gremlin, but he was, honest to the Maker, an actual menace to the poor animals that called that little pool home. 

The first time you saw Grogu swallow a frog whole, early in your job as his nanny, you had a heart attack. Your brain screamed ‘choking hazard’ and you had been fully prepped to administer the Heimlich maneuver. However, Grogu just burped then grinned at you with his little mischievous smile. When you called Mando about the incident, he didn’t seem shocked by the news. He did warn you to keep the kid from eating too many frogs simply because it would spoil his appetite for dinner. A concept you found hysterical.

It was a calm morning and you sat by the pond’s edge with your feet resting in the lukewarm water. Grogu sat on a stone to your right, swiping his hands up at bugs that flew past him. Not far off, sitting on the porch with his legs kicked up was the Mandalorian. It occurred to you that maybe you should be spending your days off away from this house and family, but you truly enjoyed your time spent with Mando and his son. You turned your head to glance back over at the man. He was still as a statue, but his frame was loose and relaxed⏤ arms crossed over his chest and head resting back against the wall of his house. You quickly tore your eyes away in fear that he’d catch you staring. You wouldn’t even know either due to his helmet. 

You had grown more and more curious about the man you shared a house with, but you hadn’t quite yet worked up the courage to ask him about all the things you wanted to know. Hell, you weren’t even fully sure what all you wanted to know exactly. Your thoughts were just a whirlwind of curiosity in your mind. The sound of Grogu chirping in excitement made you focus back on the boy who had spotted a frog a few stones away. Your mouth opened to warn him about not getting wet, in fear that he would leap after the critter, but instead he held up a hand in the frog’s direction.

Assuming he was pointing it out to you, you chuckled, “Yeah, it’s a⏤”

Then the frog began to float in the air. It’s legs kicked dramatically as some invisible force lifted it up.

“Grogu!” Mando barked in a panic.

The boy dropped his hand, the frog fell into the water, and Grogu turned to look at Mando who was already marching over. Your body reacted on instinct rather than thought and you scrambled back away from the pond. Grogu turned to look at you, his head tilted, but you watched as his ears sunk and a whimper left his lips. You were frozen⏤ in shock, in disbelief, in confusion⏤ and the swift action of Mando scooping his child off the ground wasn’t enough to shake you loose from the hold it had on you.

“I’m sorry.” Mando blurted and rushed away, back into the house.

You just blinked.

What?

This was Din's fault. He only had himself to blame. He should’ve told you about Grogu’s gift ages ago, but he missed his initial opportunity and as more time passed the more awkward it became to bring it up. Honestly, Din was baffled it took this long for Grogu to slip up and use the Force in front of you. He would jump around the house, onto counters and places he shouldn’t be, but you didn’t seem shocked by that. Maybe you just assumed that had been normal for the boy.

Din had tried to explain to Grogu that you were just caught off guard, but the little boy boy was nothing if not stubborn. He refused to listen and slipped away to bury himself in his hammock curled up with his stuffed blue frog. Din stood outside his own bedroom door trying to figure out what his next step was. He had seen Grogu pout over a number of things, but this was a different kind of isolation. 

“Mando.” Your voice was breathless as you rushed through the backdoor to him. Your eyes were blown wide in shock. “I⏤”

“I’m sorry.” Din shook his head. “I should’ve told you a long time ago. That way you could’ve known beforehand and not…”

Not reacted in the moment as you had.

He hated the way you had scrambled back, but he still found it hard to blame anyone but himself. Realizing a toddler had control over the Force wasn’t the kind of information that was easy to learn on the go. A heads up could’ve prevented that scene.

“No. I… I didn’t mean to… It just caught me off guard.” You sighed. Your arms crossed and Din watched you nervously shift in place. “What…How?”

“He’s Force sensitive. Like⏤ Like the wizards.” Din raised a hand and waved it in example.

You forced a tight smile. “I know what the Force is, Din. I just didn’t know Grogu…” The two of you grew silent, and Din took the moment to take in the devastating guilt drawn across your features. Briefly, the thought flashed through his head. Would he need to find new help? Would you still want to stay? You met his gaze and Din thanked the Maker you weren’t able to confirm that he had been staring so blatantly at you. An act he took part in way too often. “Where is he?”

“His hammock.” Din replied. “He didn’t want to talk to me. Not yet.”

“Can… Can I talk to him?” You asked and your tone made it seem like you thought he’d deny you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Your time in this house, by his side, comfortable and domestic should be proof that he maybe trusted you too much, too soon. Din gave you a quick nod, but followed it with a question of his own. “Can I be present? I’ll hang back, but…”

“Of course.” You nodded.

Din trusted you, but he was too protective of Grogu to let you in by yourself after such a discovery. He hated that he felt that way, but it was what it was. 

You knocked on the door nervously then slipped in. Mando followed in a step behind you, but like he said he lingered by the door⏤ leaning against the frame. You didn’t blame him for being hesitant. The way you leapt away from the pond, away from Grogu, made you ill. You truly hadn’t meant to and you knew the boy took that personally. How could he not?

“Grogu?” You murmured. Grogu was curled in his hammock with his back to you. You tip-toed across the room and lifted a hand up to him. You didn’t set it on his back, but just let it hover there. “I… I wanted to talk to you for a minute, buddy.” Grogu stayed quiet. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but can I have just a minute? If you want me to leave after, I will.”

“Lek.” Grogu mumbled in the softest voice you had ever heard him speak.

You set your hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly, and sighed, “I am so sorry, Grogu. I wasn’t jumping away from you. What happened… You just caught me off guard is all.” You twisted your lips. “Can I pick you up? Will you look at me?” There was a tense pause, a minute or more, and with every passing second you felt worse and worse about your actions. Finally, Grogu turned in his hammock to face you. He sniffled. His large eyes watering as his lip quivered. At the sight, your heart ached. “Oh, Grogu.”

Grogu held his hands out to you and you didn’t hesitate to pull him from the hammock and into your chest. You hugged him and continued to rub his back as you hummed reassurances. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to right this mistake and make it up to the little boy. He spoke, his voice muffled into your shoulder, and you turned your head a bit to see if it would help.

“What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Chaabar?” He mumbled, eyes still swimming with tears. “Chaabar Grogu?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know what that⏤”

“Fear.” Mando’s voice filled the room. You spun to see he had stepped further in. His arms crossed. “He’s asking you if you’re scared of him.”

Your heart plummeted.

Din watched as your eyes widened at his words. Fear Grogu? Hearing the words from his son broke his kriffing heart. Your gaze snapped back to the boy in your arms. Din was taken aback when you suddenly kicked your shoes off your feet and crawled onto his bed. You crossed your legs, pulling Grogu closer to yourself, and with the way you positioned yourself it almost looked protective. As if you were shielding Grogu from the world around you.

“No, baby. I’m not scared of you.” You murmured. Baby. Hearing you speak to his son so tender and loving made Din’s chest tighten. He had heard you call Grogu a lot of different nicknames. Buddy, little guy, sweetie, kiddo. This was the first time he had ever heard you call him ‘baby’ though. It held a different connotation. A more intimate one. You spoke to Grogu, looking down at him with a warm gaze, as if he were your own and it took Din’s breath away. “Listen to me, Grogu. Nothing you do could ever scare me away. I think you’re so special, and it caught me off guard, but I… You mean so so so much to me, baby. And I am sorry you would ever think I was scared of you.”

Grogu began to cry, but he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him tightly. Eyes squeezed shut as you hugged him. From where he stood, Din could hear Grogu babbling to you. It was a string of nonsense, but he caught the occasional Mando’a word mixed in here and there. So quick he doubted you’d be able to differentiate babbling from real words. However, Din caught it with ease and the word that stuck out to him was the Mando’a word for ‘love’. 

Grogu loved you.

Your eyes opened and though you still clung so tightly to the boy, your gaze drifted to meet Din’s. After a beat, a small smile crept onto your features. Relief shining in your eyes. It took all the strength Din had to not crawl onto his bed and pull both of you into his own arms.

Grogu loved you, and Din wasn’t surprised at all.

He was well on his way to loving you too.

Mando'a translation:

Chaabar: Fear

taglist:

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #female reader #reader insert

[hubristicassholefight]

Hubristic Asshole Fight: Round 1 Part 1b

Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) vs Feanor (The Silmarillion)

Propaganda below cut

Anakin

Decided that he would become stronger than death to stop those he cares about from dying after failing to accept his mother's death. When he begins getting visions/nightmares like he had before losing his mother of his wife dying in childbirth, he decides to team up with an evil sorcerer and mastermind to learn the secret to stopping death. The price he willingly paid was leading the slaughter of the community of peacekeeping monks who had raised him from nine years old, feeling guilt about his heinous betrayal even as he unflichingly continued the massacre (sunk cost fallacy to a very extreme degree). The unintended price he paid was the loss of his limbs and independence after his injuries during a fight with his mentor and brother figure, his wife dying on childbirth due to the great stress of his heinous actions, and being separated from his children until they were adults firmly opposed to the imperial regime he became the attack dog for (only knowing of their survival until after he had personally attacked them both); He literally did not have to do any of that. his wife Padmè very very very very much did not want him to do any of that. He was completely absorbed in his own inability to deal with loss that he deadlock refused to consider losing family again and then he went and killed what amounted to his extended family, his wife and the man who raised and guided him from age 9. And his own kids unknowingly. In terms of accomplishing your goals there really really wasn't much more he could have fucked up. And when it comes down to key moments, all he had to do was not cut off mentor and co-worker Mace Windu's hand with a laser sword and everything would have been fine. He's a nominee for Fail King of All Time to me

He thinks he's hot shit which, he is, but like cool it dude you don't have to mass murder maim mutilate your way through life to prove you're the extra most specialest bestest psychic space wizard;

Hubrised so hard he 1) lost his limbs and his skin 2) became what he hated 3) caused the very death he sought to prevent, betraying and destroying himself for nothing; So soaking wet and self aware that he cried committing atrocities. If he knew what hubris was, he'd agree he has a lot of it

Feanor

The definition of hubris. Created the silmarils who were so perfect even the gods praised them. Got them stolen by the gods evil brother (so essentially fantasy satan). Then decided to go fight the evil god to get the silmarils back and swore an oath binding him and his sons to get them back no matter who would stand in their way. This drastically backfired when some other elves stood in his way so he murdered them. Got cursed by the gods for this (together with his entire family and everyone who followed them). Told the gods that they were of the same kind as fantasy satan and that they would end up following him

Morgoth (a god) shows up at his house and Feanor (professional hater of gods) tells him to get fucked* and slams the door in his face. *”Get thee gone from my gate thou jail-crow of Mandos!”; He has never spent anything wrong ever aside from all the war crimes.

The Valar (gods) asked Feanor for help in saving the world from being in total darkness and he said “no, figure it out yourselves”. Repeatedly and intentionally goes against their orders leading to war and chaos; I know it’s left open ended to what really happened to him after he died, but I hope he never repents. I hope he stays an antagonistic and egotistical bastard after being reimbodied (brought back to life) and continues to make it everyone else’s problem. I love him.

I’m gonna have to try to do this without a sing Tolkien scholarship words so bear with me. Basically my dude is one of the smartest and most talented elves in the world. Unfortunately he has a lot of daddy issues AND mommy issues largely due to the fact that his mom died when he was a kid and decided not to come back (as elves can do). No one else has this problem. He invented a ton of important stuff and had seven sons. His most prized creation was three gems called the Silmarils, which contained the light of the Two Trees, which gave light to the world before they were destroyed. When the Valar (the gods of Tolkien’s world) asked if they could use the Silmarils to potentially create another light source, he emphatically refused and in fact became so jealous of them that he and his sons swore an oath that anyone who so much as touched them would die by their swords. Sauron’s boss steals the gems and Feanor decides that he will lead his people on a crusade to retrieve and avenge them. This results in the death of him, most of his people, and almost his entire family minus one of his sons, Galadriel, and Elrond; He once yelled at the devil to get off his lawn

went to war with morgoth (satan basically) against the will of the gods and made a whole speech to said gods about how they were gonna feel really silly when he killed morgoth and saved the whole world. he never actually did battle with morgoth because he died on like day 1 of getting to middle earth (he left like 2/3 of his forces behind because he didn’t trust them) and spontaneously combusted upon his death; he’s a huge asshole and a mad scientist and linguist and prince with daddy issues and also mommy issues

Dude thought he could win a fight with the devil, tried to just walk into Angband (Mordor before Mordor actually existed), made an oath to kill everyone that tries to take his creations even the Valar (angelic like beings) and ends up causing his death, his sons deaths and a bunch of other deaths; His name is quite literally spirit of fire Is basically regarded as THE greastest elf Is in fact THE best smith of the elves and crafts their most precious jewels (that end up causing so much death) Is THE linguist to the point of creating the alfabet every one uses even after The Crimes, creates a bunch of things that are used even after The Crimes actually Loves his dad more than the things he made Is the only recorded elf with seven kids Is married to a sculpter that is so good that people confuse her statues as actual people (a propaganda because he had to be good to actually bag her you know) Manages to create jewelry so good even the the angelics beings sent by god are surprised he managed to do it So good at making speeches that it leads to a rebellion against said angelic beings and a lot of people to leave paradise with him His mother died because his spirit was too powerful Invented kinslaying after trying to steal some boats for said rebellion Swears an oath that destroys his whole family (but adds a great flavour to the rest of the story) Tells the devil to fuck off and slams his house door on said devils face Dies via auto combustion because his spirit was just too powerful for a normal death Gets stuck in the afterlife (that elves can usually just return from) for spiting the Valar Is said he will have an important role in Tolkien’s version of Ragnarok by letting the jewels he previously promised to kill for be destroyed to defeat the devil

Because of his pride, he went against the gods because the evil god Morgoth stole his life's work (the Silmarils, 3 shiny gems that radiated the light of the two trees that a huge evil spider had sapped dry). Swore (with his 7 sons) an oath to hunt Morgoth and retrieve his shiny gems. Commited kinslaying, burned some boats, combusted to ashes after suffering mortal wounds at the hands of corrupted demi-gods. Consequences of his actions could be seen long long after his death: the oath was passed on to his sons to hopelessly fulfill (failure after failure, including two more kinslayings, one of them casting himself into a fiery volcano, another wandering the shores for eternity);

#anakin skywalker #star wars #feanor #the silmarillion #tolkien's legendarium #hubristic assholes tourney #round 1 #round 1 part 1b #official #poll

[prolix-yuy]

Soft Fires

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve learned much about the Mandalorian, but his tiny green companion is still a mystery.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, fingering (f receiving), fingers in mouths, semi-unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool, even if you have space birth control), the Creed gets in the way, Mando hops on the struggle bus for a second, FEELINGS.

Notes: FINALLY. Finally. That’s all I’m going to say about this. I was planning to post this as a two shot but screw it, I’ve been sitting on it long enough. It’s time. 

I cannot take credit for the idea of teaching Grogu Tusken Sign Language. The inspiration came from this post and I just love it so much it’s becoming canon in this universe.

Takes place over about three weeks, after the events of Both Sides of the Door.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

So the kid is great - cute, energetic, curious, kind (when he’s not too cranky), sassy (which brings much joy to your day, especially when it’s directed at Mando), and all-around better company than most children you’ve met.

He’s got some quirks too, many of which you learn on the fly. First of all being his age.

“He’s fifty?” you say when Mando brings it up, the child sitting on the floor of the Crest and looking up at you with unconcerned eyes. Mando chuckles at the incredulity in your voice as you crouch down to look your favorite gremlin in the face. “I guess I can kinda see it, what with the white hair and all. You do look like a little old man.” The child coos curiously as you stick your tongue out at him. That always gets a giggle.

“His kind ages differently. At least I assume they do,” Mando says.

“Well now there’s no question as to who had seniority on the ship,” you say in a sing-song voice, sitting down on the floor with a thump. Mando’s head whips around as you wink at him.

“How do you know I’m not older than fifty?” he says back, an edge of teasing eked out through the vocoder.

(he’s surprisingly funny when he gets the chance)

“Oh Maker, you’re right, better compare birthdays,” you huff out, this playful ribbing growing since you’d found a place in each other’s lives. It makes the child brighten, watching you enjoy each other’s company.

Then there’s the wizard magic that scared the shit out of you one day. You were prepping some fish stew in the ration-storage-now-kitchen, stirring the pot on the nanowave stove mindlessly. A clang echoed in your ears, followed by a baby wail that made you abandon the soup and rush to the hold.

Upon inspection, you found the child looking into an open electrical panel on the wall, ears drooping in a forlorn manner. You peered over his head, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“What’s wrong Bean?” you asked, putting a hand on his back. He chirped a couple times and pointed into the space crammed with wires, his face contorting. “Sorry buddy, I’m not sure what’s going on here. Care to suddenly learn Basic? Or Huttese? I know a couple of hand signals in Tusken.” You paused mid-thought at this. Teaching the child Tusken sign language to communicate could be useful. You don’t know a ton, but maybe Mando could get you a book or holovid next time you land.

(then you could learn his name, his past, what he wants and thinks)

(you could talk to him and know he understands)

Wrapped up in your train of thought, you didn’t notice the kid’s face scrunch up, eyes closing as he practically vibrated. When you did see it, worry cracked through your chest.

“Hey Bean, what’s going on?” You tried to snap him out of it but whatever was happening had his full focus. Suddenly something flew out of the panel’s guts and thwapped into his hands, knocking him over and onto your feet.

“Dank farrik!” you swore, grabbing the child and inspecting him all over for damage. On the periphery of earshot the thunks of footsteps approached.

(no no no no no what did the kid do?)

“What happened?” Mando's voice boomed in the space, whipping you around. Hands dropping to the child, he inspected him just as you did.

“I have no idea, he was making a face and shaking and then something…” Your words fell off as you both find a dirty metal nut in his hands, him turning it over with delight, if not a little sleepily. You looked at the child, then at Mando trying to piece together what just happened.

“Kid, that’s…that’s not a toy,” Mando sighed, but didn't attempt to pull it away. He patted the child a couple times before the visor landed on your confused face. “There’s…something you should know about him.”

Almost an hour later with several backtracks, questions and exasperated moments on either side, Mando finished recounting the tale of his history with the child, and the mission that brought him to Tatooine, to the Lively Bantha, and to you. You absorbed everything as best as you can, not familiar with the Jedi beyond how their influence shaped the world around you. Seeing the Force used by a child still felt like magic, and when you asked if he had any control over it Mando shrugged.

“I’m supposed to find a teacher for him, another Jedi to help him train.”

You hummed at this, looking at the oblivious child that was more the center of your world than you imagined. A holy mission fraught with dead ends and, from the hint of resentment you catch, one Din might like to fail.

(he’s taken well to being a father)

(and when you stop lying to yourself, you do kind of enjoy being his other caretaker)

Big surprises aside, you’ve adapted to having a child ever-present during your days. It’s not a life you thought you'd be living, but neither is being on a bounty hunter’s ship hurtling through the galaxy. You’re getting better at taking things in stride. And the child’s decently predictable now that you have him on a schedule. Mando had tilted his helmet at you when you asked about meal times and sleep.

“He eats when he eats and sleeps when he sleeps,” was his answer, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Maker, no wonder why he’s wired half the night. You gotta keep him on a schedule, he’s not a bounty hunter.”

“Could be if I taught him how to use a blaster.”

The silence stretched before you burst into laughter, bent in half at the idea of the kid holding an IB-94 as big as him, Mando leaning against the wall as his shoulders shook and static crackled out. The child looked nonplussed at the exchange, maybe happy as his eyes passed between the two of you.

The only thing that annoys you, that makes you want to whack your forehead against the wall and scream out the airlock, is that you have little to no privacy with the little bogwing. He sleeps with you or Mando, is up with him when he wakes early. He’s present for all meals, awake until late in the evening, and when Mando has to leave it's just the two of you constantly. It’s not that you dislike the little guy’s company.

The real problem stems from how badly you want to bang his dad.

(like SO KARKING BADLY)

You still feel the heft of his cock pressing between your thighs, how close you came to having him inside you again. Mando’s become more tactile with you since Nevarro, and you fear that you’re going to melt through your clothing with how aroused you are all the time. A hand against your lower back when you’re cooking and he needs something. Fingers rubbing grease or dirt or nothing at all from your skin. His new act of placing a hand on your knee as he passes you in the jump seat, hot thick fingers pushing gently into the flesh.

(and a few times when he put his hands on you just to see you react, a smug hum following.)

The child is your last (small) obstacle, one you maybe use as an excuse more than you should. You still have some light trepidation about that final step, mostly overwhelmed by the need growing between you. If you could just get the child to rest for an hour or so in the afternoon you could climb into the cockpit, straddle Mando with his hands on your hips, and ride him until you’re both spent and sated. You could finally take that step to land you back where you started all those years ago. But whenever you think of the child’s big black orbs catching you in the act it makes you want to gag.

(please don’t make me scar the kid for life)

So you wait for some of your gentle (sexually frustrated) coaching to sink in so that the (kriffing cock-blocking) child can start building up the habit. Until then your moments alone are filled with frantic fingers in the ‘fresher shower or grids against the heel of your hand so you can think straight for the next few hours.

(it will all be worth it to take your time with Mando)

You hold your breath, trying to remain calm and bored as you watch the child’s eyes blink heavily.

(holy shit this might actually be it)

You’d worked and suffered through tantrums and fussing and stubbornness over three days while Mando brought back his latest bounty. Practically crying twice when he called over the comms to check in, his voice soothed you when you felt your last nerve tear.

(I will never tease him for his patience ever again)

But the hard work is paying off. No more late night wakeups that demanded stimulation, no more unpredictable meals, you think you might have cracked it. Sometimes it's a fake-out, which dangles you over the edge of sanity, but this would be the second instance of the child napping without argument and staying down. The last time it was for a blissful hour, which you spent monitoring him as you made a resupply list resplendent with his favorite things. He could have an army of amphibians to torture if it meant you succeeded at your task.

The telltale signs are there: the drooping eyes, the ears relaxing, the settling into the curve of the hammock. You wait a long few minutes for his breathing to even out before closing the cot door.

Heart hammering, you stand up and wipe your sweaty palms on your pants. Kriff, you hadn’t thought ahead to what you would do next. Mando’s been back from his last hunt for a full day, rested and clean. This is the best chance you’re going to get to be alone with him.

(fuck, are you wet already?)

You ascend the ladder into the cockpit, nerves making your hands shake as Mando’s frame glimmers the cockpit.

(Maker, he’s still so beautiful)

Your cunt throbs at the possibilities as you move to stand beside him.

“Everything okay?” he asks. You hum, the energy in your body threatening to make your voice shake. Mando turns his head to you, tipping it slightly.

“The kid?” he asks, and you let out a louder breath than you intend.

“Sleeping.”

Mando’s visor traces your face, and you meet the darkness of it.

“You got him to sleep? During the day?”

A lopsided smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Finally.”

Mando turns in the chair, knees knocking against yours as he frames you with them. He reaches for your hands, thumbs firm in your palms.

“How long will he sleep?” Mando’s voice drops lower, a thrum of build-up coming to a high point.

“Last time it was an hour.”

His hands are on your waist, pushing you back as he crowds you up against the console. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out at his touch.

(Maker, I might shatter if he breathes on me)

Mando lifts you to sit on the edge of the console, pulling himself up flush between your legs. His hands go to your face, cradling you with a tenderness that contrasts the neediness he just displayed.

“I want to fuck you at least twice if we have the time,” he says, and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Stars Mando, I could cum just hearing you talk about it,” you moan, keeping your voice low. You were not going to ruin this moment for anything.

“Me too, Mesh’la,” he murmurs in your ear, hands at your waist and unbuttoning your pants. You run your fingers over every part of him you can touch, favoring the spaces between the beskar where blood pumps and muscles flex.

He shucks your pants and underwear down your legs, tugging off your shoes and socks all in one messy bundle. The helmet locks on the vision of you he has on his knees, hands stroking your thighs in slow patterns.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” Mando says, the words falling from his mouth like he couldn’t bear to keep them in. You whine, fingers digging into the fabric of his cowl, pleading for his touch. “I’ve got you Mesh’la,” he says, standing up to his full height. He strips his gloves, glorious tan thick-fingered hands taking hold of your body. One goes to your mouth, dipping two fingers in and stroking them gently against your tongue. You close your lips around him, pressing hot and wet as he lets out a broken moan. Withdrawing them, he strokes your clit in slick circles before sliding down achingly slow and burying two fingers inside you. The process is so smooth, aided by your heavy arousal, that he’s halfway inside before you can moan around him.

“That’s it, perfect girl. Fuck, you feel so good. I’m sorry Mesh’la, I’m going to have to fuck you hard and fast and cum once before I can give you what you deserve.” His diatribe is tearing whimpers and gasps from your throat as he opens you up, thumb swiping across your clit to keep your arousal high. It shudders to a stop when Mando pulls his fingers out of you, both hands curling around your waist.

“Fuck, can’t wait Mesh’la, can I fuck you now? Please,” he begs, and you wrap your legs around him to urge him on. He’s tearing his pants open, his cock painfully hard and deeply flushed. You sigh at the sight, still as thick and heavy and gorgeous as you remember. Maybe even more so, now that you can have it. He slicks his cock with your arousal, lining himself up with a shaking hand.

(Maker, the number of times I made myself cum thinking of that cock)

“Yes, Mando, please, please,” you whisper as he pushes into your tight heat. The moan he holds as he enters you starts low and quiet and builds to a desperate groan as he seats himself fully. He’s a heady stretch, forcing you to widen your thighs around him, but you’re already settling into his thickness as you tilt to pull him deeper.

“Kriff, Maker, I’m not going to…” Mando stutters as he pulls out just enough to swiftly push back into you. He hits the perfect spot at this angle, deep inside you, and the friction of the curls at the base of his cock teases your sensitive clit. You’re already trembling on the edge of your orgasm as Mando slides halfway out just to slam home again, gasping behind the helmet.

It only takes two more precise and powerful strokes for you to cum around his cock, the build up of so many weeks making you bury your face in Mando’s shoulder, shouting as your cunt grips him impossibly tight. He grunts in surprise as he falls over the edge with you, ripping his cock out and splattering his cum on the floor as you hold each other and gasp.

“Fuck, Mesh’la, I’m sorry, I should have put a seal on, I’m…” Mando is panting heavily so you cup the back of his neck, barely back from your own trip to the end of the galaxy.

“Implant,” is all you can manage, but it eases the tension in his shoulders. He strokes your hair, his softening cock slick with you against the inside of your leg. You huff out a little laugh.

“Guess we both were a little pent up.”

Mando hums with a chuckle at the end, bare hands wandering up the back of your shirt and across the outside of your thighs. You move to unwrap yourself but Mando stops you with two firm hands under your knees.

“That wasn’t good enough for you. I’m going to fuck you one more time,” he says, and there is no room for doubt in his voice. You nod, tongue swiping over your lower lip. “Don’t have the same stamina as I used to, but I can definitely get it up twice.” You’re sure he’s smirking behind the helmet. His fingers return to your cunt and drag slowly through the remains of your slick, exploring your folds with soft even touches. You run your fingers down his arms, resting on the cool metal vambraces wrapped around his forearms.

(hard and cold and practical)

“Could you take these off?” you ask, and his hand stills, helmet turning to look down at the gauntlets. “Want to feel you,” you add playfully, a finger teasing along the edge where the metal meets the fabric and flesh of the man underneath. When he doesn’t respond you look up to find Mando frozen like you asked him to remove his arm.

“I can’t,” he says, and there’s a pain in his voice that knocks the wind out of you. Alarm bells blare in your mind.

(mistake mistake mistake)

“I thought it was only the helmet…”

“I can’t,” Mando says again, and there’s more grit this time, teeth clenched as the words drag through. He’s starting to step away and your hands shoot out to grab his shoulders.

“Hey, hey, shhhh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you coo, his muscles tense and ready to flee beneath your hands. “I’m sorry, I didn't realize…I don’t know much about this,” you nod at him, all that he is and encompasses, “your Creed. We can stop, I’m sorry, we can stop.”

Mando stands his ground, your hands fisting his cowl and eyes imploring the black T that hides so much from you.

(please don’t shut me out again)

He takes a deep breath and plants his bare hands on either side of your thighs, head coming down to rest on your shoulder. Stroking your palms down his back, you treat flesh and metal as the same beneath your fingers.

(You care for everything that makes him your Mandalorian)

You both sit there in silence, your hands slowing as you let Mando take his time. He finally lifts his head and steps back into the V of your legs, hand coming up to wrap around the back of your neck. You cover his with your own, his fingers twitching below yours, as you put every ounce of empathy into your eyes, the curve of your mouth, the bend of your brows.

“When I took my vow as a Mandalorian, I swore to never remove my helmet in front of another, or to let it be removed.” He speaks like praying, his voice reverent and low. You let it wash over you, trying to convert your desires to his rules.

“A Mandalorian is supposed to be faceless, nameless. A symbol more than a man. Our Creed proves our devotion.” You nod up at the shining helmet.

(How can anyone see it and not think of glory?)

“I have allowed myself some concessions - my hands, my cock - to keep me sharp so I can provide. I’ve never removed the armor for another person.” This is almost whispered, a confession to your altar. You stroke your thumb across his knuckles and the way he responds to that small touch makes you confident.

(This is all you need)

“We don’t have to do anything Mando, nothing beyond what you're comfortable doing. I don’t want your body.” You interject when he tilts his head, a saucy smile tugging at your lips, “Well, not only your body. I want you, Mando, however I can have you. And if that means the armor stays on, then the armor stays on. I just want you.”

Mando’s forehead drops to yours, and he presses it to your skin. You smile at the secret kiss, hoping it’s enough for him to feel at ease again.

“But that’s the problem, Mesh’la,” Mando says, and now it’s sin in his voice, a dirty secret he needs to atone for, a true confession. “I want to take it off.”

Your mouth dries out.

(wants you wants you wants to break rules with you)

“I want to know what it feels like,” he says, and he wraps his arms around your back. “Even though I shouldn’t.” You hear a series of clicks, then a metallic thud. More clicks, followed by another. Then silence.

You hold your breath, waiting for Mando’s next step. You don’t want to rush him, don’t want him to regret making this choice in this moment, moments after being buried in each other’s bodies on the cockpit console. It’s not the most romantic setting, but to be vulnerable under the dome of stars feels more like an offering to the galaxy.

(let his trust in you be rewarded)

Mando’s bare hands come to lay on the tops of your thighs as he takes a half step back. You hold your eyes on his visor, feeling the calluses of his fingers scrape along your skin.

“What would you like me to do?” you ask. Mando’s helmet wanders over your body before it settles on your lap. Looking down you find large golden hands splayed wide, the sharp cut of his sleeves at the wrist, then darkness creeping up thick forearms to the dip at his elbow. His arms aren’t as bulky without the vambraces, but the bulge of muscle is still clear beneath the fabric. Strong hands, capable hands.

(he’s placing himself in your hands)

“Touch me,” he whispers, “please.”

You circle his wrist with your hand, feeling the heat and smoothness of the more delicate skin there. Mando’s breathing picks up as you let him acclimate to the sensation, the visor glued to the path you’re taking.

Carefully, you hook both thumbs under his sleeve, letting your fingers lay lightly on his forearms. Looking up at him, the visor snapping to your face, you ask silent permission. He nods, and you begin inching the edge of his sleeve up his arms.

Mouthwatering skin and a smattering of dark hair is revealed as you slowly push the fabric up to his elbow. The vista is textured with the indentations of the vambraces, few scars but an abundance of sensitivity. You begin dragging your palms back down his arm, the thick cords of muscle jumping at your touch. He's so much softer here than his hands, and you want to put your mouth on him, kiss him in a place where no one has before.

(no one has kissed his mouth either)

Mando’s breath is stuttery as you lift his hand to press against your cheek, fingers stroking along the inside of his arm.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you say, and you place a light kiss on the inside of his wrist. A rough noise comes from behind the vocoder and Mando grips the side of your head. He brings his forehead against yours and you smile, stroking the newly-revealed skin as his fingers burrow into your hair, around your neck, holding you.

“I trust you,” he breathes out, and brings his other hand to your mouth to press his thumb against your lips (every way he can show he cares).

He takes his hands off you and rolls the other sleeve up quickly, folding and scrunching the fabric so it sits comfortably at his elbows. He’s still so thick and filled out even without the armor gracing his arms, the swath of skin contrasting sharply against the darkness and shine. Your hands go to the hem of your shirt and with a moment of debate you pull it over your head, naked but for your breast band. Mando’s attention returns to you and you see his half-hard cock thicken at the sight.

“Mesh’la,” he says, and words bubble unbidden from your lips.

(It’s a time for revelations, what’s one more?)

“What does it mean?” you ask, hands gripping the edge of the console as the cool air pebbles your skin and raises your nipples. Mando settles back between your legs, and you watch how the muscles in his arm move under his skin, the twist of the finer bones in his wrist as he jerks his cock to full hardness. Lining himself up to enter you again, he slides warm palms around your back and embraces you.

This is more skin than you’ve ever had of Mando’s against your own. The glide of his arms as he feels you underneath him is strong and euphoric. It’s the softest caress you’ve ever experienced, wrapped in half of a myth and all of a man.

“Beautiful,” Mando murmurs, the helmet pressed against your temple. You can almost feel the warmth of his breath, impossible as it may be, as you put meaning to a word you held in your heart for so long. “You are beautiful…” Mando says more forcefully as he slides you onto his cock, your fingers scrabbling along his back at the sensual entrance. You can’t move, have to just take the achingly slow pace Mando is setting as his skin presses yours. “...in every sense of the word, even more.” He bottoms out, one arm pressed up your spine with a hand on the back of your head, the other wrapped around your lower back. Your legs hook behind his thighs, trying to get leverage to roll against him as he sighs into your shoulder.

"Mesh'la,” Mando moans with a strong roll of his hips. You bury your cry in his neck, bringing your hips down to meet his thrust. “You didn’t know I was saying it? All this time?” You shake your head in the cowl (too afraid to feel that desire and that pain) as he begins to snap his hips into you at a slow and powerful pace.

“I thought you knew, must have known,” Mando grunts, every plow of his cock into you long and smooth and strong. It’s more intimate, more passionate than you can bear.

“Mando…” you whine, and you feel your throat clench and your eyes water. It’s so much in such a small space, accepting his body and his words and the weight of it all. Mando pulls his head back to press against your forehead again, his hand spanning the back of your skull.

“Mesh’la, beautiful,” he says, the words punctuated with heavy breaths as he angles his hips up and into you. His pubic bone hits your clit with every thrust, the head of his cock dragging over a spot inside you that makes your body shake. Every moment is laced with pleasure, unable to pause to recover.

“Kotyc, strong,” he says, and your bleary mind grasps another Mando’a word and translation.

“Mirdala, clever.”

“Cyar'ika-”

“Mando, please, don’t…” you moan, but he won’t stop giving you everything he can.

“Fuck, Mesh’la,” Mando punches out of his lungs as he pulls you down against him, “Take it, take it all, you can do it.” He drags a hand up to your breast and thumbs your nipple, hard circles sending the final sparks to ignite. You cum suddenly at his words, limbs locking around Mando as he chants, “Yes, Mesh’la, fuck, yes, keep cumming, keep cumming, fuck, fuck.” Your head tips back and when you open your eyes they are full of stars as Mando drags himself out of you, fisting his cock to spill on the floor a second time. You clutch at one another, breath catching on the height of your gasps.

“Fuck, I need…hold…” Mando mumbles and you feel him sway in your arms. You hold him closer, slipping an arm around his side to put a grounding hand against his back. He hums into your shoulder, the curve of the helmet warming as he presses it into your skin. His hands and forearms are smoothing over you again, savoring the feeling of skin on skin.

(what a sin)

You wait until your breathing has slowed and Mando seems to be steadier on his feet, though he’s still savoring you with his fingertips.

“Thank you,” you choke out, and Mando reluctantly peels himself off your front. He brings a hand to your face and you press your lips into it over and over. His other hand drifts to yours and laces your fingers together, tightening when you sigh into his palm.

“I meant it,” Mando finally says, cupping your chin and tilting your face to him. You meet the visor’s darkness and for a moment imagine eyes staring back at you, hardened by time but still soft around the edges. “I still do. I call you Mesh’la because you are beautiful in more ways than Basic can convey.”

You smile and take a watery breath, fanning it against his pulse.

“Careful, Mando, or I might fall in love with you.”

(fuck)

You’re so blissed out and loose with your orgasm that you let those words tumble from your lips. You hold your breath, skin hot with embarrassment.

(no no no you just got everything you wanted and you’re going to fuck it up with your dumbass mouth)

Mando’s fingers stroke against your jaw, the helmet tilting at the hard switch in your demeanor. He reaches over and grabs your shirt, bunching it in his fists so he can guide it over your head. You break eye contact with him, slipping your arms through the loops before you hear his voice, so quiet through the helmet as if he hopes the whisper will hide his desires from his Creed.

“Would that be…a bad thing?”

Like home on a cold day, or a smile from the child, a full-body warmth travels from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You take the helmet in both hands, Mando flinching instinctively for a moment before relaxing.

“No, it would not.”

There may have been more words to say, but at that moment you hear a thump and a cry from the hold and you and Mando switch back to the roles you have on the Crest. Mando helps you hop off the console, careful of the mess he’s made on the floor (he’s on cleanup later) and handing you the rest of your clothes. You both redress, him reattaching the vambraces. You wonder if he’ll remove them more now, but you also know that his Creed is a comfort and a habit that doesn’t change in the course of an hour (no matter how good of an hour it was).

With a press of his forehead against yours again, he descends the ladder to tend to the child. You follow to tend to some tasks and plan your evening. You’ll teach the kid a new game, maybe see if he’ll show off his weird powers again. Then when you tuck him in to sleep (on a good schedule now thank the Maker), you’ll join Mando in the cockpit.

Maybe he will tell you more of his Creed, the importance it has in his life and how it’s shaped him.

Or maybe you’ll speak about the mission to find a Jedi for the child. It seems to pull at Mando, and you suspect there is something waiting at its completion that will test his faith. You hope you’ll be there for that, whenever it may be.

But even if you both sit in silence, letting the emotion and events of the day settle into your bones, you know it will be enough.

END

“in the afterglow of an evening rain

I lay down in the grass and think of you

my body aches like an after-kiss

breaking in soft fires and wildflowers

my dear, I will always be this tender for you.”

- Sanober Khan

Episode 9 of the I Think of You Series

The story continues in Episode 10: If the Moon Walks Out

#din x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #mando/reader #mando fanfiction #mando x reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian fan fic #mando x female reader #mando x you #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #i think of you series #prolix fics

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11a

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

[There's been an AO3 chapter I didn't link here, the fairy-tale one.]

If for some reason anyone was hoping for a desolate wasteland with cold-drakes everywhere north of the mountains, they are disappointed.

(Well actually they were kind of hoping to find an obvious place to demonstrate the Wizard's Clay. This will take some thought.)

There's pine forest on the lower slopes of the mountains, and the grasslands rolling northward are green where they aren't full of wildflowers. There are buzzing insects, birds and rabbits and foxes, and a herd of deer in the distance.

So there's food for any cold-drakes.

More importantly, there's plentiful forage for the oxen and horses. Which they were already confident of thanks to palantír scrying, but it's good it's still here.

They could do some more palantír scrying to locate good campsites with water sources, but mostly they send the kids younger set ahead scouting.

(They are various levels of qualified for scouting in this environment, but it's a good thing to learn, anyway.)

Two days past Gundabad, at the nightly conference Arwen asks if they've seen any sign of dragons. She is is glad to hear they haven't.

And they're well clear of Gundabad?

And they haven't seen any orcs or trolls around?

All right. Then she has to tell them something about those grey swans with the Geese.

This is so much worse than the hair thing.

****

Everyone reacts very well.

Celeborn does not — does not — lash out at Maglor or Celegorm. It's old news, and anyway leaving Eluréd and Elurín to die (or not) was the work of a few rogues. He believes that. Maedhros and Maglor wouldn't have hurt them without an attempt at hostage negotiation first. No doubt Celegorm inspired his retainers' behavior, but it wasn't even his fault, not directly, since he was dead at the time. (Although, as his fëa was obviously lingering— No, probably not.)

Celeborn also does not waste time asking questions like: "How are they swans? Was Elwing's transformation not because of Ulmo? Did Lúthien turn into a bird, or into anything under non-emergency circumstances? Could Dior have?"

Instead, he asks, "…Does this have something to do with Nimloth not answering the Call of Mandos?"

Turgon shrugs, awkwardly. "I don't know. I don't know if she ever told anyone anything about how that happened."

"I think it must have been," says Whiterot, who is acknowledging the gravity of the news by actually speaking to Celeborn. "And this is probably also related to how risk-averse she could be. She must have known they were here and been afraid of leading the Dark Lord to them."

(Turgon can't actually see how any of the risks Leafblight wouldn't take could have led to her leading the Dark Lord to her sons. Even if she somehow knew where they were, how is that even related to keeping a low profile generally?)

Celegorm tells Maglor he is going to go dig a hole in the ground that they can demonstrate the Wizard's Clay in, and vanishes into the night. Maglor doesn't stop him.

Time of death notwithstanding, Maglor does blame Celegorm for Eluréd and Elurín.

Even before the Nirnaeth, Celegorm and Curufin used some very violent rhetoric on the subject of Thingol, his people, and his house. (Maedhros figured it was substantially about the Silmaril and Lúthien humiliating them, but also about scapegoating someone else for Celebrimbor's rejection, Huan's rejection and death, the breakdown in relations with Nargothrond, and for that matter Finrod's death.)

After the Nirnaeth, all of them found their thoughts turning more often and more darkly towards Thingol and the Silmaril he held, though they didn't test the Girdle.

Celegorm combined that with a steady stream of vitriol towards Beren and Lúthien and their son — Men were barely more than beasts, and Ainur were hateful aliens with no place in Arda, and their joint spawn were monstrous. Maedhros hadn't been in any condition to shut him up. Maglor hadn't dared pick a fight and break the facade of unity that was holding their followers together.

(It had been one more thing to feel guilty about, with Elrond and Elros — that he hadn't said anything while Celegorm dismissed their entire family as not really people.)

Maglor doesn't think Celegorm really believed it even at the time — he hated them even more than he hated everything else and wanted a justification, like Caranthir coming up with reasons to despise Angrod and Aegnor besides 'Celegorm and Curufin like them more than me'. But Celegorm's retainers had believed in him the way they'd once believed in Oromë, and took his words as truth, and he should have watched his words accordingly.

Also, it was blatantly obvious that Eluréd and Elurín should be taken hostage. Leaving someone who didn't realize that with command of his retainers was very irresponsible.

(Celegorm realizes within five minutes of leaving camp that he forgot to grab a shovel, but was unwilling to go back and get one, so he grimly sets to digging a hole with his shitty orc sword.)

Khitwê and Risyind know about Eluréd and Elurín, more or less; Elladan covered them the summer before while trying to explain the roots of Celeborn's mood.

Obviously the Hirnedhrim have never heard of them before.

Neither has Gimli.

…Or Sharlinnu. She realizes she probably could have heard of them if she'd ever listened to orcs-who-know-they-were-Sindar arguing with orcs-who-know-they-were-Noldor rather than trying to get them to shut up, but that is not the case.

She is as helpful as she can be by not sharing the official Pelndoru version of why the Noldor and Sindar have a feud, which reliably outrages Eldar of any background:

The strife between different groups of Journey-Elves is an old blood feud started over a cursed jewel filled with the perilous light of the gods. Some of the Deep-Elves found it, were driven mad, then lost it. Then some of the Grey-Elves found it and kept it and were driven mad. Because they were all mad, they had a war and slew each other over who should keep the jewel. Because the Deep-Elves had held it longer, they were more mad and turned on their own people. Finally it was sent back to the gods as it always should have been. The Journey-Elves had never had a war before, so they were very upset, and are still angry and argue about whose fault it was.

(Sharlinnu feels it conveys most of the necessary information, but does have to concede that entirely omitting the Dark Lord is an odd choice.)

Legolas has heard of them. Celeborn would be relieved, if he was paying attention.

(Thranduil met Eluréd and Elurín a few times, between their coming to Menegroth and Nimloth informing Oropher that her father's death did not mean she needed his maternal cousin to step in and offer unsolicited suggestions, and in fact, if he could not treat her and Dior as adults and his king and queen, then he could get out of their council chambers — which had led to Oropher leaving Menegroth. Thranduil was quite young himself at the time, and grieving his dwarf-slain mother, but he remembered the twins clearly. He didn't dwell on the Kinslaying, but he mentioned Eluréd and Elurín.)

Legolas does not however feel qualified to explain Eluréd and Elurín, much less explain why everyone is so tense about it. He's hoping Elladan and Elrohir will do it.

Thus far they have not.

Elladan and Elrohir are—

Their family tree is full of ghosts. Third Age Elvendom was full of ghosts. They have to be prepared to meet some ghosts. And they are!

But Eluréd and Elurín were children of a peredhel father and an elven mother, identical twin boys with a younger sister, and— They were particularly eerie ghosts, and not ones their parents encouraged them to dwell on.

It's taking a little recalibration to absorb the idea of meeting them.

Anyway they're having a hushed conversation by themselves, and not explaining anything to anyone else.

Glorfindel, once he's satisfied that violence is not going to break out, announces he's going to ride back and see if he can find the Geese to speak with them.

…Khitwê ends up awkwardly trying to relay what he understands of the history to Gimli, Sharlinnu, and the Hirnedhrim.

Zuste says with great feeling that being a child abandoned in winter is just the worst. No one asks.

Sharlinnu remarks that this answers a number of questions she didn't ask about Reckless and Leafblight but none of her questions about Whiterot; in fact she now has several new ones.

Gimli asks for clarification on the 'can turn into swans' part. Khitwê has no idea about that.

Legolas says he doesn't understand that part, either.

Khitwê: "You couldn't make an attempt to explain the rest of it?"

Legolas: "I really don't know more than who they were!"

Risyind: "But wasn't your king still hating dwarves over Elder Days grudges? This doesn't bother him?"

Legolas denies any understanding of why he does or doesn't know anything to do with the First Age and what that knowledge or lack or knowledge does or doesn't have to do with his father's personal opinions.

The Geese prove elusive. Glorfindel decides pretty quickly they just don't want to be found at the moment, but still dawdles a bit before heading back.)

Really, everyone handles it very well.

#orc bank unforsaken #orc bank #a tolkien tag

[teecupangel]

Desmond in middle earth? Idk, the idea just came to me, but like he is transported there and meets Bilbo (before the quest or after?)

For “Desmond getting booted to Middle Earth”, we have “Desmond takes his ancestors turned kids sightseeing and eavesdrop on the Fellowship” idea and “Desmond becomes the mentor of the Shire Brotherhood” idea in the comments of this post.

Now, you specified Desmond getting booted to Middle Earth and meeting Bildo (before or after the quest), so in this setup, let’s say Desmond gets booted after activating the device and he has no idea where or when he was then he meets an actual wizard. Desmond starts with the whole ‘probably POE related’ then, after Gandalf shows him enough magic to make him go “oh shit, that’s real magic, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck”, he’d be sorta lost, unsure of what to do because he’s not just been transported into some other time, he’s been kicked out of his own world.

So he just tags along to wherever Gandalf goes, acts as his sorta errand boy. But mostly, Gandalf teaches him about the world he was in, never asking why he did not know about any of these or why he seemed to be alright with a stranger following him around.

So when Gandalf met Thorin and they agreed in taking Smaug down, Desmond pretty much joined them in ‘inviting’ Bilbo.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond would definitely feel a kindred spirit in Bilbo’s desire to not be part of any adventure and, while the world he was in had a lot of magical (weird) stuff, Desmond did feel that this was sorta more like a retirement for him. No Assassins or Templars to think about. No Isus to think about.

Bilbo is actually the reason why Desmond joined them on their journey. “Someone has to look for the little guy.”

He does get along with everyone and he understands their reason for wanting to kill Smaug. He does worry about Thorin though, especially when Desmond sees how Thorin tends to forgo reason and go with his ‘feelings’.

Desmond being there does mean Dori doesn’t have to carry Bilbo. Instead, Dori is in charge of keeping an eye on Desmond and Bilbo (to make sure they don’t wander or get into trouble). Balin still gets to be the cool old mentor to Bilbo and Desmond though (mostly Bilbo).

Desmond saw the shinies on Smaug’s pile and it took him all his willpower not to pocket something because, goddamn it, he wants some.

Desmond would probably be the one to notice something is wrong with the ring Bilbo got. It feels… wrong to him. Like it’s a POE but different. POEs to Desmond had never been malicious. If anything, they were always eager to be used by Desmond but the Ring… That specific Ring. It’s like it’s deliberately trying to keep Desmond away.

Desmond doesn’t necessarily know anything about Sauron as Gandalf only gave him a brief ‘background’ and he made it sound like Sauron is some kind of bad dude, not one of the most powerful Maiar still hellbent on conquering everything.

Desmond doesn’t know it but the reason why Gandalf is okay with all his strangeness is because Desmond feels familiar to Gandalf. Not the exact same feeling but close enough that Gandalf believes he is related to Varda.

Instead of Varda (associating Desmond with light and the stars), we can make Desmond feel similar to Mandos to associate him with his death back in his world and the fates that govern his entire life.

#desmond in the hobbit #desmond and bilbo just trying to be the reasonable ones #desmond seeing smaug and going #yeah okay dragon sure yeah #dude has reached new level of zen in this world #desmond is the ultimate isekai protagonist #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #ask and answer #fic idea: the hobbit #fic idea: crossover #the hobbit #gandalf #bilbo baggins

[gffa]

Came here for the mando posts, staying for the general Star Wars dump.

I was a kid when the second trilogy was released and could never bring myself to remember a single thing from them, wasn’t really interested. Started watching the mandalorian a few weeks ago cause it looked pretty good and was really curious to know what all the fuss was about. And here I am, watching every movie, animated series and tv shows and loving all the little crazy posts about Jedi and shit. I don’t get everything yet, but what a fun ride this is.

I hope you're having a blast! I remember that feeling as well, I got pulled in via the sequels and just inhaled all the animated series and rewatched the movies and started reading comics and books and, sure, not all of it is great, but a lot of it can be really fun and there's some great worldbuilding in there imo! I think that's what gets me about Star Wars--it's the one-two punch of how hilarious so much of this franchise's bullshit is, then some legitimately good concepts, characters, and worldbuilding. Is it always going to stick the landing? Hell no, it's going to land on its ass just as often as it has its feet on the ground, but what the fandom does with it, the corners of joy and hilarity you can find (in amongst the rest of the tire fire) are genuinely fun and I hope you're having a good time! Star Wars got a thousand times better as a fandom experience when I just whole-heartedly embraced the batshit about the space wizards and space bucket heads, like I can have a lot of serious opinions about SW stuff, but at the end of the day, what's important is to be kind to real people and to have fun with our silly little Blorbos. 💖

#lumi.txt

[theawkwardanglophile]

TheAwkwardAnglophile's Year in TV shows: 2022

It seems I've started a tradition, and even though I know only very few people will actually see or read this, it's still fun to put together. This is my third time doing this. Feel free to check out my lists for 2021 and 2020 as well.

My criteria for shows making the list is the show either aired new content in 2022, or I'd never watched it before. So, while I did several rewatches, those didn't count. Also, beware: SPOILERS ABOUND! Here's the list in alphabetical order:

Abbott Elementary: What a perfect little sitcom that just stormed onto the scene after so many beloved sitcoms had gone off the air the last few years. They deserve all the accolades! It is genuinely hilarious. Ava probably makes me laugh harder than any of them, and of course I'm here for Janine and Gregory.

Andor: Holy crap, I was not expecting to be drawn into this show as much as I was. What a brilliant deep dive into the Star Wars universe. So many layers and subtleties to it. Luthen's monologue BLEW ME AWAY, and I looooved the prison escape. You get such a better understanding of how terrifyingly far the Empire's reach went.

Baymax: I was expecting a full-blown series, so I was very disappointed to find only 6 short episodes that were only a few minutes long. However, it was more Baymax, which is always a good thing. I think my favorite was the episode Kiko, which had Mrs. Kim from Gilmore Girls (Emily Kuroda)!

Blockbuster: I know it got cancelled, but I actually kind of enjoyed it. It wasn't the best, but it had potential. There were a few genuinely funny moments for me, and I think the episode where they do inventory was my favorite.

The Book of Boba Fett: Ok, so I know there are a lot of Fett fans out there from the past 40 years, but I'm indifferent to Boba. But I found a lot to enjoy in this show. I liked watching Boba connect with the Tusken Raiders. However, the pacing and structure were terrible, Fennec was underutilized, and the Mos Espa "power rangers" left me scratching my head. The BEST PART of it all was the Mandalorian season 2.5 they snuck in there! Watching Grogu with Luke, seeing what Mando had been up to, and the most beautiful father/son reunion!! MY HEART. Sorry you got sidelined in your own show, Boba, but the Mando eps were WIZARD.

Call Me Kat: I'm still watching, still enjoying, but this show is kind of a mixed bag sometimes. I was not happy with how everything went down with Oscar. He was such a sweetheart! Am I happy Kat and Max have become a couple? Yeah, I guess, but I think it could've been done differently. Also, it won't be the same now without the lovely Leslie Jordan, RIP.

Derry Girls: Loved the final season. It's so quirky and fascinating and hilarious. The parents' high school reunion was absolute GOLD.

Dream Home Makeover: It's definitely one of those shows that you question why you're watching, yet you can't turn away. I don't want to like it. The couple is just odd together sometimes, and everything was shown out of order! One minute she was pregnant and then she wasn't, but then they'd go back to her being pregnant!

Emily in Paris: Season 3 was pretty good, although I found Emily a bit grating. I was worried they were going to make the whole season about her shenanigans working for both companies, but thankfully that got resolved quickly. Luc is still such a delight, and Sylvie has even grown on me. Gabriel and Alfie are still 🔥🔥.

Hawkeye: I watched this at the beginning of '22, so it's a bit fuzzy now, but it was enjoyable. Not quite at the level of some of the other Marvel shows (like Loki or Wandavision) but still pretty fun.

History 101: A fascinating little documentary series! I was hooked. Each episode was about a very specific topic and was brilliantly done.

Home Economics: This sitcom is pretty fun. I've always loved Topher Grace (although oddly enough I never watched That 70's Show 🙈), and he still nails awkward comedy. All the family dynamics are fun to watch, the kids are cute. And the Spiderman joke when they were at Disneyland had me ROLLING.

The Home Edit: I devour these episodes whenever they drop, and then I want to revamp my entire house, and life. I love organization, plus Joanna and Clea make everything fun to watch.

How I Met Your Father: I was SUPER skeptical about this one, and maybe still am a bit (HIMYM fans, you understand). But I ended up enjoying it more than I thought. I need to watch the last ep again to prep for the upcoming season 2, because I've forgotten a lot. I'm curious to see where it goes.

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous: The last season was wild, and I COULD NOT STAND Kenji's dad. The woooooorst. Shipped Brooklynn and Kenji, and happy Yaz and Sammy found happiness together. The ending was very satisfying for everyone!

Moon Knight: Oh DANG, what a ride. So many moments I'm like, "WHAAAAAAT am I even watching?!" But it was a fun, trippy adventure, and Oscar Isaac deserves all the awards.

Name That Tune: Always fun. I slay at this game.

Never Have I Ever: I just LOVE this show. Season 3 was another stellar season, and I am still definitely Team Ben! That ending! And the show still makes me cry, especially the scene with Devi and her mom in the finale. 😭

Obi-Wan: I know this wasn't as well received as was hoped, but I enjoyed it. Young Leia was fantastic! Lola, too (I have adopted her in my club of beloved droids). The story worked, and the Vader/Obi-Wan showdown was pretty amazing. The last 20 minutes of the finale was just a giant checklist of fan service, but honestly, I'm not complaining.

Only Murders in the Building: LOVE LOVE LOVE. This show is so incredible, and season 2 didn't disappoint! It's smart, hilarious, and I love the intro music so much. The intros were actually made even better by each one being slightly different with something related to that particular episode.

The Orville: If this journey for The Orville is truly at an end, then they sent it off well. A satisfying ending. I think the supersized episodes didn't work as well as their punchier 40-minute eps, but man, when they go big they go BIG. Incredibly well done topics, and the effects! INSANE. I swear Hulu must have kept just dumping money on them, like "Go ahead and make whatever effects you want!"

Paper Girls: This was...weird. I went through most of this going, "WHAT AM I EVEN WATCHING?" Obviously I loved all the retro vibes, and I was curious enough in the story to stick it out, but that was about it. It got pretty dark at times, and I thought the language, while warranted, got excessive enough at times to detract from the story. Anyway, if they were trying to capture the magic of Stranger Things, it didn't work, and it got cancelled anyway.

The Rookie: MY HEART! MY OTP. MY BEST SHIP AND SHIPPING EXPERIENCE EVER. My obsession with Chenford has exploded even more, as any of my followers can clearly tell. I love Tim and Lucy SO MUCH, and watching them become canon has been INCREDIBLE. But also, the show itself has stepped up its game in S5. The plots are better, more balanced, and I love all the different relationships shown. Making Thorsen a regular was a fantastic decision. The social media team has been killing it. And the show has gained tons of viewers and fans. We are truly in the golden age of The Rookie.

The Rookie: Feds: I like the show, but don't love it...yet. Maybe I will? It is done well, but it's just there. I watch it when I get around to it. Garza and Laura are probably my fave characters. I do like Simone, but she's also a lot. And I say this only because it's the FBI and there must be some kind of dress code, she should probably cover up the girls more. I swear she's going to end up having a wardrobe malfunction.

School of Chocolate: Pretty fascinating little chocolate-making competition.

Star Trek: Discovery: S4 was kind of a mixed bag. I'm not sure it was as memorable as previous seasons. I hate Tilly left. I did like that there was a running thread throughout of identity and belonging, and mental health. My FAVORITE part was how they found a way to communicate with Species Ten-C. Some brilliant television.

Star Trek: Lower Decks: S3 was ok, not my favorite, but it's still funny. My fave moment actually came in the DS9 ep. The background swing music at Quark's is actually from a band that my mom does booking for, Denver & the Mile High Orchestra, and for other personal reasons I won't go into here, that moment meant a lot to me.

Star Trek: Picard: Insert Picard facepalm here. I wanted S2 to work so badly, and be amazing, and it just wasn't. I mean it had Q and time travel and all the ingredients for something incredible, and it still didn't work. It would take too long to hash it all out here, but if anyone wants to vent with me, I'm around. I am excited (and nervous) for S3, however! I hope they don't let me down.

Star Trek: Prodigy: I still love the animation, and the kids are fun. I'm gonna be real honest, though. I'm mainly here for Janeway and Chakotay, because no, I'm still not over how Voyager ended, and if an animated kids show will let me see more of these two, I will take whatever I can get.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds: Before I go any further, may I just point out the amazing WONDER that FIVE different Star Trek series aired new content in 2022?! A new record! The Trekaissance is real. This show exceeded my expectations. It's so different, yet still so classic Star Trek style. The characters are great, and the intro is incredible! I cry at that intro. It's sweeping and gorgeous and ahhhhh.

Stranger Things: I've loved Stranger Things from the beginning, was excited for S4, but when I watched 4x01 I almost gave it up. It felt so dark and depressing, and the scene at the end was horrifying. I put it off for a couple weeks before deciding to try again, and I slowly worked my way through the rest of the season. There were still parts I couldn't watch (I really don't do horror, Stranger Things was always about as far as I would go, but then they really upped the horror in S4, much to my dismay), but ultimately I'm glad I did watch, although unlike the rewatchability of S1-S3, I'm not sure I can go through S4 in its entirety again. But there were some BEAUTIFUL moments we got, lots of laughs, lots of emotions. All the reunions in Vol. 2! El seeing Hopper again 😭. And my absolute favorite part...JOPPER IS CANON!!

Supermarket Sweep: Always a lot of fun. Sad that it won't be back.

Young Sheldon: It's losing steam, but I'm still watching. The whole storyline with Georgie has been interesting.

And there you have it! 33 shows in all, which is probably a record for me. Feel free to message me or send an ask if you want to further chat about any of these. If you read this far, YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR AND I APPRECIATE YOU.

#my tv shows #theawkwardanglophile #2022 #abbott elementary #andor #the book of boba fett #call me kat #derry girls #chenford #emily in paris #hawkeye #moon knight #how i met your father #never have i ever #only murders in the building #the orville #the rookie #star trek: discovery #star trek: lower decks #star trek: picard #star trek: prodigy #star trek: strange new worlds #stranger things 4 #stranger things #master post #personal

[fryingpan1234567]

Masterlist? Kind of? REWRITE

fandoms list (yes this is everything, not in any particular order): Hermitcraft, ESMP, Life Series, Marvel, DC, WOF, Riordanverse, MHA, Trap House/ XPLR, Divergent, Hunger Games, Maze Runner, Disney, ATLA, Wizarding World, IT, Ducktales, any and all theater (TECH PEOPLE UNITE), Gravity Falls, SVTFOE, Thomas Sanders, Daredevil, horror (Scream especially my beloved), Transformers, Jurassic World, Star Wars, Little Nightmares, Pacific Rim, Monsterverse, Pitch Perfect, RWRB, Young Royals, Osemanverse, SCP, Six of Crows, TAWOG, Berrybrook/ BBMS, Descendants, TMNT, Alan Becker/ AVM, Top Gun, Umbrella Academy, Neytirix, Voltron, Greatest Showman, X-men, Zelda, DBD, Undertale, Daughter of the Deep, Poppy Playtime, Black Phone, Murder Drones, Free Guy, Good Omens, Nimona (movie), COD, Hazbin Hotel, Fast and Furious, AOUAD, WEBTOONs: Homesick, Boyfriends, School Bus Graveyard, High Class Homos, Everything is Fine, BWFA, Clinic of Horrors, Reunion, Castle Swimmer, The D!ckheads

ship moment (and I’m probably forgetting some):

Hermitcraft/ ESMP/ Life Series etc—

Mostly a multishipper? But I do have some favorites

Scarian

Rendoc

Ethubs

Team ZIT

HEX

Hypnocrafted

Stresskall

Jels

Welsuma

Gridoc

GLASS!! SPOUSES!! I will die on this hill

Team Rancher

Nature Wives

Marvel —

Parleynova/ any variation

Ironstrange

Stucky

Thorbruce

Kate x Yelena I don’t remember

Shuri x MJ

Shuriri

Spideypool

Spideypool but fem

Venomeddie

Nightsilver

Nightangel

DC—

Birdflash

Jayroy

Timkon

Damijon

Steph x Cass x Kara?? Not sure about that name lol

Superbats

Halbarry

Harlivy (DUH)

Batcat

Bluepulse

WOF—

Qinter

Glorybringer

Sunny is aroace fight me

Turtlejou

Moon is also. Aroace

Lynx and Snowfall

Pineapple and Jambu😭

Plus a bunch from Lauren Black’s books if you haven’t read them go do it she may as well be canon

Riordanverse—

Pipabeth

Obligatory Percabeth

Jercy

Valgrace

Solangelo (duh)

Thaleyna

Blitzstone

Fierrochase

Malconnor (MY BELOVEDDD)

NEW SHIP ALERT: Engineering bfs (Jake Mason x Malcolm Pace)

MHA—

Kiribaku

Dekushima

Momojirou

Miritamu

Shinkami

Dabihawks

Shigadabi

Wizarding World (oh boy)—

The constant struggle over choosing between Drarry and Scorbus is real

But also Hedric

Perciver

Deamus

Wolfstar duh

Jegulus

Rosekiller

Linny

I don’t remember the Teddy x James one but

It (2017 + 2019)—

REDDIEEE

Stenbrough

Benverly

we stan aroace Mike

Transformers—

Racer bfs

I don’t know any ship names help

OP and Ratchet

Wheeljack and Bulkhead

Arcee and Arachnid just not when they’re toxic

KOBD

MegOP

Star Wars—

Stormpilot ftw

Dinluke

Kylux

Reyrose

What’s the mando princess x priestess one again

Osemanverse—

Don’t talk to me canon ships are perfect

Berrybrook—

Starting off by saying these are CHILDREN and I’m not sexualizing them in any way

Canon ships are SO CUTEEE I CAN’T

I think Jensen is aroace

Hedgehog and whatever that emo kid from the Diary is called (I KNOW THEY’RE MINOR CHARACTERS LEAVE ME ALONE)

Listen I know that Alex and Joseph are both taken but I’m ngl I thought they were dating at the beginning of Enemies

Send ships I’ll probably agree with you

Descendants—

Harlos and Umvie are superior

Multiship lol

Top Gun—

Hangster

Icemav

Payback and Fanboy

Bob and Phoenix

DBD—

Ghostfrank

Susie x Julie

Hag x Blight

Any of the girls paired up

I know zero ship names

Black Phone—

Finbin/ Rinney

Brance

Showstagg

Murder Drones—

I… don’t like Uzi, sorry

Not gonna ship her with N

And V is toxic

And Cyn is a psychopath but they had good chemistry— I like her (thus far)

J and Tessa they’re cute

Thad is gay as fuck. That is all

Nimona—

Nimona x anarchy and murder <33

COD—

Okay omg

I think all the ships are honestly arguable we don’t really have bad ones

BUT I do have my favorites

Soapghostroach/ any variation but especially that one

Gaz x Jackson

Nikprice

Alerudy

Alex x Farah I forgot the name lmao

Hazbin—

Radioapple

Radiostatic

Vox x Valentino

Huskerdust (AAAAAAAAAA)

Homesick—

Personally I’m on Tommy’s side as far as shipping Rayne goes but I do love Sam

Unfortunately. Most of the characters are dead

There’s not a lot of people to ship

SBG—

AIDEN X TYLER!! MY BOYS!!

Taylor x Ash

Logan x Ben

The fact that there’s official art of them TvT my heart

Castle Swimmer—

Mono x Galoo

Honestly Skiff is so cute. If Kappa and Siren are poly that would be so

Fizz is a dick. That is all

D!ckheads—

If Levi and Eli and Marcus don’t end up together I swear to god

The mean girl and the druggy they’re perfect for each other

some AU’s I got:

Superhero au (Hermitcraft)

Theater au (Hermitcraft)

Marvel x DC

DC x Riordanverse

High school au (DC)

Greatest Showman au (DC)

Hunger Games au (Riordanverse)

PacRim au (Riordanverse)

Wizarding World au (Riordanverse)

Riordanverse x Marvel

Band au (Wizarding World/ Marauders era)

IT x Stranger Things

Everybody lives au (TBP)

Riordanverse au (COD)

I got 2 different band aus for COD— one is Måneskin themed and the other is Arctic Monkeys

Top Gun au (COD)

Halo au (COD)

Avatar au (COD)

PacRim au (COD)

SCP au (COD)

Jurassic World au (COD)

Homesick x SBG

non-specific tags:

DBD is what I tag everything horror, even if it’s not in the game lmao

everything random that isn’t really related to anything is tagged shitpost

so I know I forgot some ships. send some in I’ll probably agree with you lol

ask! me! about! my oc’s! I have literally tons for basically every fandom so

yes you can make oneshot/ headcanon requests for almost any of these

I yell about a different fandom every day filter by tags XD don’t see the one you’re looking for because I haven’t made anything for it yet? ask away!

consistent formatting is a myth. sometimes I use proper capitalization and punctuation. sometimes I do one and not the other. sometimes I don’t do either. I’m consistent PER POST at least LMAO

asks always open!

#masterlist [:

[gwarden123]

Why did the dragon roar like a monster before snatching the kid up? Don’t most animals stay quiet unless they feel threatened?

Okay, I do get that it’s a dragon and it’s Rule of Cool. But seriously, why would the dragon kill the kid if it could hear the mandos coming? Doesn’t that suggest some kind of intellect that an animal wouldn’t have? A creature that can make that kind of decision is one that can be reasoned with. Killing it would count as murder.

On the other hand, if the dragon is an animal and the taking of the kid was hunting rather than kidnapping, wouldn’t the kid potentially already be dead? It’s taking the kid to eat, presumably. Frightening the animal wouldn’t make it kill its lunch quicker, it would just run away. I’m only belabouring the point because the show did the same thing in the first episode with what was essentially a large crocodile acting like a monster (With the same boy, actually. Is a wizard trying to snatch the boy? Is he sending his minions out to do his bidding?) and it speaks to an incuriosity of the natural world that I think is robbing these stories of a lot of depth. The appeal of adventure stories is that you get to see things you've never seen before and you get to spend time with characters that are more worldly than you. Star Wars is literally a story about a young man getting his third eye opened by a wizard while he travels with a drug runner who is older and cooler than him. By not even bothering to do external research and drawing only from a fictional universe for inspiration, the storytellers are undermining the foundation of their own story.

And wouldn’t have just looked cooler if instead of roaring like a monster, the dragon had dove out of the sky like a bird of prey to snatch up its meal? Actually, they mention that it keeps getting away because its range is greater than their jetpacks. So has it just been picking kids off for weeks now? Why haven’t they moved their training indoors? Couldn’t they post a guard in a watchtower with a radio, like “Mistress Armorer, dragon inbound, two o’clock”? Have they considered stretching a net over the training grounds, like a gardener protecting her tomatoes from pests?

#star wars #the mandalorian #also why does the kid sound like a middle class American kid from the suburbs when he's surrounded by stiff weirdos? #are Star Wars writers that allergic to the idea that kids from another culture might act differently to American kids? #I should say 'the imagined ideal of American childhood' really #he sounds like when a TV writer wants to write an adorable moppet #'Well shucks Timmy. We're really in it this time' lol

[rocksaltpaperscissors]

the best part of the wire scene in chapter 12 is that it’s objectively hilarious on the surface (local man explains electrical engineering to an infant), but tbh grogu is such a weird mixture of developmental milestones...

- he walks but doesn’t talk (but definitely communcates)

-he sometimes obviously understands what mando is saying/gesturing

-he has some kind of grasp on his freaky mystical powers

-he saved his dad from a rhino monster which shows some kind of cause-effect comprehension

-he understands the mechanics of stealing the lever knob by unscrewing it, etc

...that this scene is actually very interpretable as mando testing the boundaries of grogu’s capabilities because he’s seen some out-there shit from this baby before and it is actually perfectly reasonable to conclude that this wonderful little freak could hack it as the galaxy’s squishiest engineer 

#mando is like 'this kid is some kind of wizard' #'is he the smart kind or just the weird frog eating kind' #mando: ' AM i smarter than this fifth grader??' #the mandalorian #chapter 12 #rock's salt

[jreads]

Unexpected Constellations (Part 03)

Rating: idek somewhere between PG-13 and M

Word Count: 3047

Warnings: Angst, Canon level violence, Mentions of blood, Foul Language, Din being hot

A/N: Sorry this took so long!!! I'm still not super happy with it but it's coming up on a week since I last uploaded so here. This part covers a bit of the time frame from the last two parts but SURPRISE! it's Din's POV! He's a hard character to write so I hope I did him justice! Please check the masterlist for tags. If you reblog you get a kiss. Also maybe comment if you want to get added to a tag list and I’ll figure that out for next time. 🧍‍♀️

6 hours earlier…

“If it has something to do with the mission, I should know.”

He cursed himself soundly after leaving you in the cockpit. What the hell was he thinking?

The Mandalorian had little to no experience in talking to women. Especially frighteningly gorgeous ones like you, who made him want to see the prettiest parts of the galaxy and tell jokes and laugh without restraint.

You were way out of his comfort zone.

And he had panicked just then, with the revelation that he wanted to know more about you: your past, what you did before you met him, and why a hologram of a crystal would so easily leech your skin of its stunning colour.

It wasn’t new to him, this feeling he harboured for you. Though it had started as something much less terrifying.

Desire was a concept Mando was familiar with. He had visited pleasure houses more than once to get the feeling out of his system, to allow himself to focus better. It had always seemed more of an annoyance or an inconvenience to him than anything else.

With you, it was all-consuming. You were like a flame given form, setting him alight with every brush past his shoulder or utterance of his name.

It had first started back on Sorgan, before the battle had even begun. You had been talking to him about strategy and casually leaned forward to fix the lay of the belt over his chest plate. It had seemed like a natural movement for you but fuck… it did something to him.

It was so much worse during the battle, when he had scanned the swamp to watch you masterfully using his pulse rifle, brow furrowing in concentration. And then finally when you had thrown it back to him, waded knee deep into the water and lifted your hands.

He had seen Grogu do the wizarding thing before, but the child always seemed to look pained, like he struggled with it. With you, it looked… euphoric.

You were an enigma, as were his feelings toward you. So when you asked him, rather shyly, if he might need an extra pair of hands on board or someone else to help protect the kid, he had felt… scared? Relieved? Worried? Confused? Could wizards read minds?

Since then, there had been a liveliness to the Razor Crest that he had never seen before. Laughter, leaking through the closed cockpit doors as you played with the kid down below. Chatter, more talking than he had done in years, so much so that it often left him hoarse the next day. Smiling, though you’d never know it, was a frequent occurrence now, a secret of his kept safe under the helmet.

He wished he could say that the change happened slowly… but that would be a lie. He didn’t fall for you over time; it had barreled through him like a ship through hyperspace.

Grogu had formed a fast attachment to you as well. You two were playful around each other, and the ability to communicate mind-to-mind with him meant that the two of you were mischievous, often ganging up on him or playing jokes.

You would smack fat kisses to the top of his head and he would giggle, such a strange, joyous sound. It would have you laughing along with him in seconds.

Mando loved the sound of your laugh. He loved the sound of your voice.

One night, soon after Grogu had been taken by the Jedi, the two of you had lain side by side on a grassy knoll under the stars, on some planet he couldn’t even remember the name of. He remembered being so worried that, now that the kid was back with his own kind, you would have fulfilled your purpose and you would leave him behind.

He would have given any part of himself to get you to stay. But that night, under the clear sky, he gave you his name.

His full name.

And when you repeated it back to him, the syllables rolling effortlessly off your tongue, it almost undid him.

By some stroke of luck—or maybe you read his mind again—you had decided to stay. And he was so grateful for it, as he had realized that he couldn’t imagine what a life for him might look like without the kid, and without you.

He’d never tell you any of this. Behind the exterior of cold beskar, he worried that you wouldn’t feel the same, and it would drive you away from him. He’d much rather live a life like this with you, never drawing closer, than risk losing you forever.

So he had kept his thoughts to himself today and snapped that shield back into place. He had stalked back into the engine room. He couldn’t face you again today so he would hide here, and toggle around with some loose wires in the left wall panel. And wallow in self-pity.

An hour went by. He had managed to fix a light indicator for one of the engines. Very important. The ship was set to exit hyperspace in a few more hours, so it was probably best to get some sleep while he still could. The next few days would likely be chaotic.

He exited the engine room and scaled the ladder back down into the hull. He tried not to dwell too much on the mission before him, on the unknown figure who had hired him and the value of the bounty. He didn’t like to ask questions about his work. The one time he did, he ended up being chased relentlessly across the galaxy. He ignored the nagging part of his mind that suggested that that same questioning had brought him two priceless companions and experiences he never thought he’d have.

He was quiet as he made his way across the floor. The door to the sleeping nook was still open, and he could just barely make out the outline of your legs through the visor.

So carefully, he removed his belt and armour and stacked them against the wall. Truthfully, he was exhausted, fatigue from the last bounty and stress from the near miss on Nevarro catching up with him.

Easing onto the blankets, he settled into a light sleep.

And woke to a guttural cry.

Up in a second, the night vision in his visor helped to identify the origin of the sound.

You must have thrashed about in your sleep, for the sheets were in a state of disarray and you were heaving… big, uneven breaths that racked your body. Grogu was awake, leaning over the side of his hammock, a sad expression painting his face.

He was to you within seconds, another pained sob bouncing off the walls of the alcove. From here he could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You were dreaming.

The kid looked to Mando then, an insistent sound coming from him. He needed to wake you.

Slowly, carefully, he placed a hand over your ankle, squeezing firmly. You didn’t stir. He squeezed again

“Come on, wake up.”

He didn’t expect the speed at which you shot from the mattress.

He also didn’t expect his airways to suddenly close. Completely.

He gasped… and failed to draw in breath.

You were staring at him with undiluted fear, fear and then horror, pure horror as he choked again.

And then you were scrambling away—so at odds with the usual fluidity of your motion—until your back hit the wall with a horrible thud. He reached out on instinct to try to steady you, only then realizing that he was able to breathe again. He savoured the stale air of his helmet for barely a moment before assessing you.

You were cowered in the corner, face pressed into your hands, shaking so hard he thought you might fall apart. An unfamiliar emotion speared through him, sharp and hot.

Before he was even fully aware of his actions he leaned in, so slowly, as to not startle you. You didn’t look up. You were muttering apologies under your breath, like a prayer.

It was jarring for him, seeing you like this. You were always smiling, effervescent, quiet and somber at times but… never like this.

He reached for your hands, body moving of its own accord. If he could just see your face, maybe he could… what?

Comfort you?

He didn’t know how to do that. He had never been taught. His hand stilled.

He regarded you again. Your breathing seemed to be evening out and yet you had sunk into yourself. The tensing of your body had been replaced with a feeling akin to defeat. Still you wheezed your apology.

Something in him strained.

“Look at me.” He meant to sound assertive, but his voiced came out rough, all wrong. Astonishingly, you listened anyway.

Your eyes were haunted. And yet you looked at him like he was the centre of the galaxy. Like your world began and ended with him. Had he not been braced on the edge of the mattress, the force of it may have blown him over. There was a track of glistening wet trailing down your cheek.

How he yearned to brush it away.

You didn’t say a word to him, and he wasn’t going to make you. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you alone either.

Making up his mind, it took him only a moment to climb the rest of the way into the alcove and shuffle ungracefully into place beside you. He was hyperaware of each point of contact between the two of you, felt them like light electric pulses.

He noticed then that Grogu was crying, faintly. You apologized again, your voice only slightly more stable this time.

What the hell were you apologizing for? Mando was fine, the brief shock of the attack long since buried and replaced with something new. It was you who was sitting beside him, curled into a ball smaller than he ever would have thought possible for a human being and trembling so hard it’s a wonder your teeth weren’t chattering.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” It was true.

You said nothing.

He knew what trauma looked like. He had suffered his fair share of it as well. He recognized the way you pushed it down, crammed it into the smallest darkest part of you, filled yourself with something else so it would have no room to stay anymore. He had tried the very same tactic. It never worked.

You had told him nothing about your history and he had been content to leave it that way… until tonight.

“Tell me everything.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the mission, I promise.” Farrik, he was such an asshole. He knew you’d pick up on that comment the second the cockpit door shut behind him.

“I don’t care about the damn mission. Tell me everything.” He hoped you’d get it this time. The meaning behind that sentence. He hoped you’d put the pieces together eventually.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Your voice broke. Fuck, this girl who’d been holding him together for longer than he cared to admit was on the verge of crying in the dark and he hadn’t the faintest idea why.

“Start from the beginning.” When you shakily inhaled to speak, he realized he had absolutely no idea what he expected.

But it certainly wasn’t that.

He allowed himself to dwell on it now, seated alone in a booth lining the wall of some backwater Mos Eisley cantina. He wished for the luxury of being able to have a drink, if only to wash away the feeling in the back of his mind, the nagging idea that when he got back to Peli Motto’s landing bay… you might not be there.

He had landed the ship on muscle memory alone. The truth was his mind had been thoroughly distracted since you had told him the truth about your past. Your close ties with the Empire and the Emperor himself had startled him, but not scared him.

He knew who you were. Perhaps better than anyone else in the galaxy.

You were reserved at first, with a sense of humour that took a while to show. You smiled easily, unrestrained, which was a wonder considering all you had been through. You loved even easier, and he saw it clear as day when you looked at the kid. There may have been a dark side to you, one he had caught glimpses of when you fought alongside him, but how was that any different from himself? How were you any different from him?

He had also spent days and nights worrying over the danger you’d be in if you travelled with him. There was a target constantly on his back and when you had chosen to accompany him and Grogu, by default it had been transferred to you too.

He had considered it, forcing you to part ways with him, sending you somewhere, anywhere, if it meant you were safe. The only difference was he was too selfish to do it.

He had left soon after the ship landed to weave through town, hoping to pick up bits of chatter. But also because he wanted to give you space.

Actually no, he didn’t want to give you space. He wanted you so damn close that he could feel you through the beskar. But you hadn’t ever been given a choice in your life. He wasn’t going to be the one to force you to do anything.

So he left earlier than he had planned, to give you time if you needed it. To pack a bag and say goodbye to the kid. You didn’t owe him an explanation.

Some part of his brain sparked incessantly. At the idea that he hadn’t told you he wanted you to stay. That you didn’t realize just how much him and the kid relied on you.

That maybe… maybe you thought he wanted you to go.

He didn’t notice the hunters until they were sat across from him in the booth. Until the unmistakable tip of a blaster nudged the side of his thigh under the table.

Fuck.

Two Trandoshans, scales reflecting under the dim cantina lights, armed to the teeth. He should have seen it coming.

The one on the left spoke first, his voice a low hiss. “We heard through the grapevine you might come sniffin’ here.” Mando stayed still as death, mind running through a million different possibilities. The gun against his leg was the most pressing matter. If he were to angle his knee down just enough, any blast could deflect off the beskar plate on his thigh.

The lizard kept talking. “We just missed you on Nevarro, but it’s all good.” He tipped the remainder of his drink back and slammed it down on the table. “Here’s the plan, you tell us what you know about the bounty, and we might conveniently miss any important organs. Got it?” His friend chuckled, the blaster shifting slightly.

Still, Din said nothing. Just stared the two of them down. He had come across this pair once or twice before when doing business with the Guild. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty, but untrained. If he could just…

“Or, if you insist on stayin’ quiet, we’ll kill you, get our information elsewhere and take that pretty little prize of yours from your ship as a deal sweetener.”

He moved.

His knee came up, smashing the second Trandoshan’s wrist against the underside of the table. The blaster shot went wide. He heard a crunch. The first was already up, drawing knives.

But he was faster. The table was overturned in a second, nearly crushing the second one as he cradled a limp hand. The first started throwing his blades.

It was a stupid tactic. Most bounced harmlessly off his armour. He caught one midair, twirling it expertly before sending it back.

The lizard had started backing away, almost tripping over his partner, as if realizing his attack attempts were futile. He managed to haul the other one up, just in time for the returned knife to imbed itself just above his beltline. He was dead weight.

The other Trandoshan knew it. He dropped the body before taking two steps back. He turned tail… and ran.

Cursing slightly, Mando stalked after him, but not before slamming a pile of credits down on the bar.

“For the dead men’s drinks.” He explained. The barkeep looked pale.

Outside, both of the suns were beginning to set. The sandy alley beside the cantina was relatively quiet, but he could hear chatter in the distance. The hunter was nowhere to be seen.

He activated the tracker on his visor, watching thermal footprints branch away from the cantina… and then back towards it.

He twisted, following the prints around the side and… up.

He lifted his gaze just in time to see the hunter leap from the domed roof of the cantina. He caught Mando around the neck, sending them both tumbling to the floor. A blast of pain razed across his side, in between the gaps of his armour. He barely perceived it.

Up within a second, he spun to face the Trandoshan. It was crouched, one remaining blade in its scaled hand, blood dripping from its edge. And then it was lunging toward him, swiping, slashing. The blade connected with his armour in a flash of sparks.

He caught the lizard around the wrist, squeezing until the blade dropped into the sand. His other hand went to the throat. And then his was lifting, until the hunter’s feet dangled just off the ground. It wheezed.

He moved until he had slammed the lizard back against the wall of a neighboring building. Only when it started thrashing did he finally throw it to the ground.

It had the audacity to beg. “Please… no, we- we won’t get in your way.” Mando reached to his belt, to the now familiar weight at his side. The darksaber ignited smoothly.

Serpentine eyes went wide. Before he could utter another word, the Mandalorian brought the blade down.

As always, he struck true.

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din darjin #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #sw the mandalorian #star wars #mando x reader #mando x y/n #sw tbobf #the mandalorian #my fic #jreadswrites #unexpected constellations

[quinntamsin]

“We must prepare for war.”

The bombing of Sanctuary has begun the war, and the death of people in Freetown has marked the first series of casualties. The Pyke Syndicate is moving on to Tatooine in a similar fashion to how mining companies use to strongarm their own workers during the Union days.

The House of Fett sits in the ruins of Sanctuary and discuss the war. The Mods convince Boba to stay a while. Cad meets wit the local leader of the Pykes and Mok Shaiz the ever naive starter of all this bullshit. And yes, I blame that Ithorian asshole for a lot of this damage. We learn that duh, the Pykes killed the Tusken Tribe. I think we are getting definitely getting a nice lead up to how truly malicious Cad Bane can be.

THe showdown between him and Bane goes down how we assumed and suddenly his Gotra is completely wiped out bit by bit. The Gamoreans fall and we see the Mods losing members as the Aqualish break the treaty. Santo is overtaken. Fennec saves the Mods and we get a nice little comment about Manners.

Ah yes, good old fashion Mandalorian honor. Our local Twi’lek spineless nominates himself for tribute and reads a nice little fuck you offer. We get an old fashioned Mando’ade level assault via some fucking jet packs and we watch beskar save everyone’s life. THe Pykes lose many, but their numbes are great as our two fighers are saved by an armored speeder from freetown. The Qeequaq bartender has brought some damn backup, and in come the fucking mods.

Love this fight so much and enter mother fucking Krrsantan. God, that wookie had a time putting so many Trandhoshans in the ground he probably should have his own necklace of some nice Trando teeth. And then the Pykes bring in what are obviously a newly updated destroyer droid on Ryl Spice! Holy shit if only the CIS had these others in the Clone Wars.

Boba flies off and leaves Din to protect the retreating gotra and luckly our brave brave mando stands alone. These fight scenes really show how we should be getting more Star Wars shows that focus on the non-JEDI aspect of the story. Seriously, less Space Wizards and more fucking Twi’leks please!

The Scorpanek (yup sounds like another Colicoid creation) gets its ass handed to it by the fucking rancor. Gods, I have wanted to see someone ride a a bloody Rancor for damn years. My Dathomiri heart sings to see it.

Yup, Boba just became PEAK MANDO’ADE! Can we get a basilisk droid please!

Meanwhile, the Freetowners and the Mods decide to make their stand. The droid doesn’t stand a chance bagainst bigboia nd the combined might of the Fett Gotra. Nor does it stand a chance against our beloved bigboi! This kid has spunk I tellz ye!

We see the people of Tatooine driving back the Pykes back and it all comes down to him and Bane (who used a flamethrower to throw off bigboi). And the true malice of Bane is revealed as the redeyed Duros prepares to end it all. And yet the fool wasn’t aware of Fett’s Gaffi stick and see’s his end finally come. The greatest fucking Bounty Hunter in all of the known Galaxy other than Fett is now dead.

Bane’s death solidifies the fall of the Pykes and their influence on the city. The Rancor meanwhile is terrorizing the city as he’s been sent beserk because of all the shots and Din tries his best to get a hold of Boba’s mount. Instead, Grogu appears to use the force to put bigboi to sleep, annd thenhe snuggles with it. This seems like a fitting end especially with Shand assassinating all of our traitorous family leaders and finally killing that damn Ithorian.

The Gotra meets once again and we see them gathering as the towners of Mos Espa now show respect to their new Daimyo. Meanwhile, Grogu bugs his dead so they can go really - really fast!

Hottakes:

Did I sense gay chemistry between a certain mod and a freetowner?

Papa Weequay taking the small blaster was...so amazing.

Cad Bane has this evil big duros energy, dark side BDE if you will.

The Pykes killing the Tuskens was kind of...obviously really. I hope we get to see some of them survive, aka Warleader who was my favorite char from thsi entire series.

Conclusion:

The Book of Boba Fett perhaps only feels right if you know Boba’s story. If you watched him from Attack of the Clones all the way THROUGH Clone Wars. This poor kid has tried hard to get revenge and define his family. For years he rolled with the abusive and manipulative Aura Sing before he struck out on his own. Finally, after years we get a story that puts a new hard chapter in one of the best damn Mandalorians to ever grace our vision.

And yes, fuck the Armorer, Fett’s a Mandalorian. If you follow the Codes of Honor you are Mando’ade!

#found family #tusken raiders #House of Fett #Fett Clan #Clan Fett #star wars #star wars tv #star wars television #sw tv #boba fett #din djarin #fennec shand #black krrsantan #cad bane #the pykes #the hutts #black sun #crimson dawn #the underworld #criminal underworld #mos espa #tatooine #the mandalorian #grogu #baby yoda #science fiction #scifi #syfy #science fantasy #fantasy

[guessimwritingficsagain]

Not-a-Jedi (1/?)

Pairing : Din Djarin x reader

Summary : Since Grogu kept having nightmares about his father, you were sent to reunite them both. But nothing goes according to plan.

Warning : violence, sexy thoughts and yearnings.

Author's note : This was supposed to be a one shot but it's not.

When Master Luke had come to you with Grogu, you hadn’t thought much of it. The kid had been restless, he’d explained, visions of his father plaguing his mind every night.

‘I think he is meant to see him. His father might be in danger. Grogu won’t rest until he can help.’

You were no Jedi, but you could fly a ship, fire a blaster, kill, even, and Luke knew you and trusted you so he’d given you Grogu, and the name Nevarro to start with. Lured by the idea of leaving the little shop you worked at, after years of trying to settle down, live a quiet life, and knowing that grumpy boss of yours would take you back when your mission was over, you’d agreed to take Grogu to his father.

Now, though, with a blaster pointed at your head and a Mandalorian at the other end of it, you weren’t so sure. Screw Luke Skywalker and his sweet smiles.

‘Where did you get the kid ?’

You swallowed, your heartbeat picking up. As you were struggling for an answer, Grogu just cooed and his hands shot up towards the Mandalorian.

Luke hadn’t updated the very Mandalorian father about the whereabouts of his kid, you were slowly understanding. And now there was a blaster, pointed directly to your head - that deserved to be emphasized.

You tried to explain, hating how you were struggling, stumbling on your words like a new-born babe on an uneven sidewalk. When you were done, the Mandalorian stood so still you blessed whatever god you didn’t believe in because death was sure to be quick and painless. But it never came.

Instead, you felt Grogu’s weight being lifted from your arms as you heard the Mandalorian whisper :

‘Miss me, kid ?’

The baby cooed, while a lady you hadn’t noticed at first lowered her rifle, tapped the baby on the forehead.

‘Nice to meet you, Jedi. I’m Cara Dune.’

You shook her offered hand and corrected her :

‘Not a Jedi.’

You gave her your name, but she playfully smiled and answered :

‘Nice to meet you, Not-a-Jedi.’

The Mandalorian had turned away, already walking back into town. Cara motioned you to follow. You looked around as you walked. So much sand. You could feel it slipping in your boots, too. Not a fan of that, you decided. It was hot, and your weapon of choice was heavy against your back. Cara was talking to the Mandalorian, though you couldn’t make up her words. You’d rather trail behind, unsure of what to do next. Luke’s words hadn’t been specific. Stay with them or don’t, but if you don’t, know that a time will come when you need to get Grogu back here. When, though, I don’t know.

You liked Luke, really, but the cryptic wizard bullshit was getting old. You briefly wondered how you had been so fascinated by the whole thing in the first place.

Once you were sat at a table in the local cantina, a drink in front of you, Cara casually asked :

‘So, Not-a-Jedi, how come the Jedi trusted you with the kid ?’

She was leaned back on her chair, legs spears apart, but somehow you could tell she was ready to break you in half. And maybe, she could. You might have had five whole teenage, foolish years of something akin to street-fighting behind you, but she was huge and clearly military-trained. And there was a Mandalorian sitting next to her. You weren’t about to take that chance, not after many years of keeping to yourself, the hard muscles softening with a bit of fat here and there, not with the slight softening of your belly. The street-fighting had been about adrenaline. You’d been too young, too cocooned by parents scared of the world, and you’d wanted out. You’d liked the danger of it, back then, the very idea that one wrong move could leave you with a broken spine turning you on, but never scary enough to dwell on it. You’d felt invincible, back then. Fights had been foreplay to encounters in a dark street, quiet fucks to release a tension you shouldn’t have felt. You’d had a family, a roof. You were privileged, but it was boring. A spoiled brat. You still were, in a way. Spoiled brats don’t fight military-trained huge lady, and they surely don’t fight Mandalorians.

‘The Temple needs supplies. Luke gets them from me - from us. I work at a small shop in a town not far from the Temple.’

She nodded, while the Mandalorian kept quiet, visor trained on the kid who was happily downing his food like you hadn’t fed him since you’d departed.

‘Slow down, kid.’ You muttered without thinking and raised a hand to stop him. The stare of the Mandalorian stilled your movement, though, and you brought your hand back to your own cup.

‘You must be tired’, Cara continued. ‘Long journey ?’

Your hands gripped the cup harder at that, the words out of your mouth before you thought better of it.

‘Can’t tell you that.’

She leaned in.

‘Why not ?’

You swallowed, and met her stare.

‘The Temple’s location is secret. If I tell you how long we’ve been travelling for, that’s a piece of information. I can’t do that.’

‘Not even to the kid’s dad ?’ She quipped back, gesturing the unmoving warrior. There was a slight simmer of tension in the air. They don’t know you, they have every right to be suspicious, you reminded yourself. But you didn’t know them either.

‘He’s not the one asking. I don’t know who you are. This is the kind of information I could give to him, but not with you here.’

‘Yes, you can.’ A modulated voice interrupted. ‘I trust Cara with my life. She was there when the Jedi took the Child.’

It wasn’t so much the sentence itself that moved you, but the way Cara’s body slightly turned towards the kid and his father, the way her face grew grave.

‘A week or so.’ You quietly admitted, after a beat.

The Mandalorian hummed in answer and silence fell over you all. You were starting to feel uncomfortable when he spoke again, his voice harsh and cold as the Beskar he was wearing :

‘You’re gonna spend the day and the night here, but tomorrow morning, you’re both gone. It’s too dangerous.’

That, you hadn’t expected.

‘That’s- That’s not what Luke said-‘

‘If I’m in danger, then you both need to leave as soon as possible.’

———

The kid was screaming. You’d figured it would go down that way, with the Mandalorian intent on having you go back to the Temple. Then, a three-fingered hand landed on your cheek and everything went elsewhere.

The Mandalorian was on the floor of a ship you didn’t recognize, chest heaving up and down, and blood everywhere.

‘Stay with me’, you heard yourself say. ‘Come on, stay with me. I’m here, I’m gonna patch you uo. It’s going to be okay. Grogu- Grogu can do it too.’

When you came to, you were on the floor of your own ship, and Grogu was softly crying in the arms of the Mandalorian.

‘We can’t leave’ you choked, as Cara was helping you up. ‘We can’t leave.’

You took a few steps, and you threw up.

When you woke up, you were in a bed and a doctor was checking your vitals. She probed, and asked too many questions, but couldn’t find a single thing wrong with you. You weren’t about to tell her that a fifty-year-old kid had shown you a vision of yourself trying to save his father, so you let it be.

Instead, you used your best bed-ridden voice to convince the Mandalorian that you both should stay with him because you might just die if the kid pulled that kind of stunt again - and maybe you were right, because Grogu meant well but you felt like that time you’d had one week of sexy times with a nice Zeltron lady. You couldn’t walk properly, and your mind was elsewhere, though this time, the elsewhere was definitely not as nice as it had been back then.

Which is how you ended up on Mando’s ship, the Galactica, strapping up for a journey through memory lane. Apparently, since he was stuck with the two of you, Mando wanted to take the kid back to people who mattered to him.

Next stop : Tatooine.

And the welcome on that planet was something else. You liked Peli the moment you met her, with the way she gave shit to Mando just because she could. She took to you, too, and when, your nerves vibrating with excitement, you asked her where you could see a good fight, she pointed right where you needed to be and added, for good mesure :

‘Keeping the kid will cost you extra, but I can take care of him if you want.’

This was the Mandalorian’s money you were playing with, but you figured that if you bet some and won some, that wouldn’t be an issue. You agreed, and went on your merry way while Mando was out shopping for rations.

Except, when you got there, the thrill of it all got to you. Your skin itched to go up there, on the ring. To knock somebody out. You hadn’t felt that way in years. Maybe it was the thrill of the adventure. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, and his cold front. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, but for other reasons : you were supposed to save his life, you’d seen it. Maybe you could prevent this from ever happening if you went back in there.

No matter the reason, you did it. You watched the winner, raised your hand, and got up.

———

It had been easy. Easier than when you were younger. You’d been stuck on the Galactica for a while, and you’d needed release.

You won, fair and square, and went back to the ship, covered in blood but the weight of the ten thousand credits comforting at your side. You went to pay Peli but her answer surprised you :

‘Did you win ?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you ended that idiot ? The blond one ? I can never remember his name but he’s a pain. So smug.’

‘Yes, I did.’

Peli looked at you, and smiled.

‘Free of charge, then. I hope Mando is smart enough to keep you around.’

Mando himself said nothing about the bruises and the cuts on your body, but he let you heal yourself. You figured, then, he knew you could take care of yourself.

You spent a while with Peli, time passing like a blur, the days almost all the same. Mando didn’t seem in a hurry to see you leave anymore, indulging in the selfish feeling of joy to have the kid back. You kept going back to the cantina to fight. Kept winning, and the grin you wore every time you got back must have intrigued Mando because he came to see you fight, one night.

The moment you spotted him in the crowd both threw you off and cleared your mind to a point of concentration you’d never reached before. You didn’t stop to try and understand the feeling, not with the way you could hear every cheer, not with that visor looking right at you, not with that beast suddenly clawing at your belly with new ferocity. You didn’t stop and understand the feeling, because suddenly you were fighting him. Your faceless opponent became Mando in your mind, and as you threw punches with renewed ferocity, images - fantasies - spilled in your mind, of him taking you in a dark alley, both of you still sweaty and dirty from the fight. Even better was the fact that you knew you could never beat him. Would you yield, though ? Would you get on your knees and beg for mercy ? Or would your pride take over your lust and lead you to fight until he had you pinned down and unable to breathe ?

It was amazing, you’d reflect later, how one’s body could move on pure instinct, before for the rest of that fight, your mind was elsewhere but you were moving with a deadly precision, ready to strike, ready to hurt, ready to win. And win, you did.

He wasn’t in the cantina anymore when you came back in after collecting your winnings. The fire in your belly went out suddenly at that, an empty feeling replacing that burning sensation, your fingers no longer tingling but heavy with ache. Your opponent - you still hadn’t caught his name - offered you a drink you accepted, but drank too fast for it to lead to anything more. The urge to get out of there was only made stronger when the man in front of you asked, innocently enough :

‘You travellin’ with the Mandalorian ? You guys showed up here at the same time and he only ever shows up when you fight.’

So he’d come here before, was your first thought. The second, though, was much more unpleasant : the kid.

You were drawing too much attention to yourself. You left the cantina eager to get to the Battlestar, only to be stopped by an iron grip on your arm. Your reflexes kicked in and you landed a hard punch on - something very hard. The pain was so intense it travelled through your whole body and made you shiver, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as your body curled onto itself.

‘It’s me.’ You heard, the modulated voice now familiar. And then, as an afterthought : ‘Sorry.’

‘A little warning, next time. That’d be nice.’ You all but wheezed, the pain in your hand burning you whole.

‘Sorry.’ The helmet repeated, even though the hand on you was not easing its grip.

You had some bruises on you, the morning after. A split lip, too, and an almost nasty wound on your left eyebrow. The biggest bruise of all, though, was the one on the hand that had struck the Mandalorian, a huge ugly shape, purple and green and blue. You couldn’t flex your left hand without tears coming to your eyes. You wondered how sick you were, because you couldn’t look at it without being turned on. It was a good thing that you were right-handed, too : you weren’t that incapacitated, and you could also keep touching yourself in a very capable way. Small blessings.

———

That grip thing, Mando squeezing your arm to lead you wherever, that iron grip to stabilize you, became a thing. And you were quickly getting that what he represented, that sense of danger about him, turned you on almost all the fucking time. The rest of the time, well, he was being a very good dad and that-

Fuck.

Let’s just say you had it bad.

You left for Mos Pelgo a week later, after Mando asked you why you didn’t go fighting anymore and you revealed your worries about being too much in the spotlight, and how afraid you were that it could affect the safety of the kid. After that conversation, he set course immediately for your next destination, leaving you just enough time to say goodbye to Peli.

‘Thanks for teaching that boy a lesson.’

You thought back on your first fight and answered, your grin predatory :

‘Oh, him ? He was too cocky, but not that good of a fighter, really.’

Peli laughed.

‘Not that boy. The other one. The one with a bucket on his head. Stubborn ass who won’t think for a second about what is good for him. You got him to relax, enjoy his time with the kid and remember people who care about them.’

You could tell it was a lot for her to admit that she cared about the Mandalorian himself so you just shrugged. You watched as she bid her goodbyes to the kid and his father, before she turned to you and added :

‘Hope I’ll see you again, Korra.’

‘Korra ?’ You asked.

It was her turn to shrug as she explained :

‘A silly story my parents used to tell me. In a galaxy far far away, there was a woman who could manipulate fire, earth, air, and water. But she was also very strong. Kicked everybody’s ass. You remind me of that story.’

It wasn’t until later, on the speeder, that Mando said : ‘Korra, I like that.’ With the wind blowing, you thought you’d imagined it. But then, he started calling you that.

Cobb was friendly, funny, a bit too cocky. A few years back, you would have gone for a man like him. The thought that you could, still, and that he might not be opposed to it was nice but not enticing enough for you to act on it. Still, the two of you fell into a rhythm of harmless banter, and flirting. What could have been fun became a game of pushing and pulling : the Marshal would make you laugh and Mando would just grab your arm, the feeling of his grip now familiar to you, something to ground you, even. You entertained the fantasy, for a moment, that he wanted you the way you wanted him.

And maybe, maybe, you were not wrong.

Here you were, a few days after landing, joking with the Marshal as you felt Mando’s hand grab your arm. Tight, like that time after the fight. That shouldn’t have made you restless but it dit, your knees bouncing with excitement at the idea to take on the Mandalorian himself. So when everybody started to go to bed, he grabbed your arm, again, and led you to the Battlestar. Once you were alone, the kid asleep, he dropped all the Beskar except for the helmet, and whispered, a challenge :

‘Come on, Korra, come at me.’

You did as you were asked, a nice obedient girl even though you were feral. He won, though. Of course he did. Your back was hurting against the floor as one of his hands kept you there, easily. He was looking at you, you felt, above you as one hand tied yours together, and the other on your ribs, right below your heart.

‘Din.’ He said.

Din, you understood, as your mind went back to that fight, that fantasy.

Din, you thought after he let you laying there, chest heaving, while he entered new coordinates.

------

If you want to be tagged just say the word.

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 11 reactions; the ‘the sea is a harsh mistress’ edition

- on first watch this wasn’t really one of my favorite episodes. I think it’s something to do with... one of the many things I love about the mandalorian is how it made the star wars universe feel HUGE. big and surprising and unknowable, there could be fucking anything out there man we don’t know. so having first bo katan show up and then ahsoka being set up right after (quite aside from who’s rumoured to play her, which is an entirely different can of wormy beans) in additon to opening the season on tatooine... eh. I’m not that into it, it feels like shrinking the world. we haven’t even gotten to see any other type of force user yet. it is only early/mid season tho so they’re probably going to pull some unexpected twists on us 

my opinion might change with rewatches too, that happens quite a bit with this show!

- 

🎶I’VE COME TO TALK WITH YOU AGAIN🎶

honestly I had kind of a hard day yesterday and watched this the next morning and kept pointing tiredly to the crest like ‘it me tho’ 

- I was unreasonably happy about seeing the calamari flan again hahaha he’s been keeping that shit in his pockets for a season and a half now (didn’t he pay with some at one other point too?)! also the sound effects for them are SO EXCELLENT, I keep thinking about how well this show does texture which is wild considering how it’s filmed 

- the warm pat din gave frog lady’s arm when he thanked her and said goodbye 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I love the small ways he’s thawing 

-

my heart ached so much for him at this point, he just looks so small and tense and lost, like a kid who’s lost his parents in a supermarket

(he keeps his hand on the blaster the whole time too so he knows this is a bad scene but now they’re right out in the middle of the ocean already soooo) 

- din’s very very very dry sense of humour is so blessed. ‘a bowl of chowder for my friend’ faklhfsadkjlfhsadkjhfsd

the baby’s look when he poked the squid thing with his knife too -- yodito’s like ‘dad is a wizard??’ haha. some good baby & dad stuff in this one 

- oh din... side quest boy, side quest booooooyyy

- the shot when bo katan helped him out of the water is perfectly mirroring the scene of bb!din being pulled up to safety by the mandalorian in the flashback, which seems Very Intentional

I Extremely Do Not Trust Her in the larger scale tho. I think it’s important that din knows now that he was raised in a very specific offshoot of the mandalorians ant that there’s some Stuff he hasn’t been told, but I also think it’s crucial to remember that her pov is not unbiased either and she, in fact, already has an established tendency to selectively share information with him to manipulate him into fulfilling her goals. (which he realizes because he keeps saying ‘that is not my mission, my mission is the child’ and I could not love him more). hell, I’m not sure exactly how ‘the children of the watch’ were positioned within death watch, but she was fucking death watch too for the longest time! and she hardly left for particularly noble reasons, she just didn’t like maul! she already lost mandalore like twice, do we just have to trust that third time’s the charm or what! 

she lied to him about the scope of the mission to force him into a position to do what she wanted (fully knowing he’s responsible for a child!!) and she called that ‘the way’ just as easily as the thing about not letting his bravery be forgotten! big red warning lights, NO! I think the thing is that din is having to find his own ‘way’ of being mandalorian (/how does one be a person exactly help?? relatable content, and he’ll get there in the end I’m sure he’s so good), but her way is no less fucked up to me than the children of the watch from what we’ve seen so far. she’s good at killing imperials though which is of course a mark in her favour

(considering that the episode gives her the epithet ‘the heiress’... yeah that’s probably a hint that she’s loyal first and foremost to her entitlement, getting the position she considers hers by right of inheritance. guess we’ll see if the text agrees with her)  

- ‘mandalorians are stronger together’ yeah that’s probably why the cosmic balance makes sure they’re mostly engaged in being at each other’s throats lol 

- so I might be feeling kind of sketch about these guys but on the other hand... when that one lady saved the baby and then promptly took off her helmet to reveal she looks like t h i s ?

you better BELIEVE I was ready to fall down on one knee and propose right then and there holy shit

- ...wow if he didn’t have the jet pack din probably would have just sunk like a rock and drowned there huh 😨 that armour’s pretty heavy, turns out

- in happier news: din has become so good at reading what the child is expressing and responding/labeling the feeling for him! that’s so important to his development! ‘I know you’re hungry’ and both telling and showing him there’s a solution! still a bit of an issue that he thinks he can inform the baby of things like it’s a reasoned adult and have it understand, but we’re getting there we’re getting there lol

- that poor lady guiding them in for landing and sounding more and more worried fhkasjdlhfkjsdlahf (and he fucking TURNS OFF THE RADIO or whatever he’s using to talk to her through sdkfhaksdfhjs he takes a precious split second just to cut her off asfdjhaslkdfsdfhsda I love my salty dad) 

- when the fisherman asshole tells mando he knows where to find more of his people there’s the tinkling bell sound in the background music, I think it’s meant to convey almost childlike longing for belonging and connection, for finding someone who’ll know what to do? 

- when they took off their helmets and baby looked up at din like ‘???dad what the fuck? can you do that???’. (or like he just sensed his father taking a shitload of psychic damage all in one go)

- the way din didn’t start breathing again until they got the baby up from the water and he had him in his arms... the way he held him... sladfhasdklfhsjakdhfjsakldhfsakjldhfsjkadhfjaskdhfskajdhfjsdakhfslakhfskladhfsakljdhfjskadlhfkjsld

that whole scene was like a nightmare, so desperately unpleasant, in a way it mirrors the way the mandalorians have been hunted down and pummeled these last few generations, this must sort of be what it feels like to him subconsciously 

- din isn’t particularly inflexible as a person, after the initial kneejerk rejection he did listen to what they said and is carefully considering it (he did say ‘this is the way’ back at the end!)   

- the baby’s babbling when he wakes up and looks around in the beginning sounds half like ‘baba?’ and I almost had a heart attack

- loved how greasy and awful and dumb all the empire dudes were (and the comedy on board the ship too it was good for me) 

- the boob plates huh. shit they’ve shown with the armorer that they don’t have to do that in any way shape or form and they still brought the boob plates back :/ I guess it’s so they match up with the rebels/clone wars look, evoking that ~*era*~ and everything, but I don’t have to like it lol  

- I feel so validated in my theory that the razor crest is symbolic of din’s sense of self  (now with beautifully added commentary!) after this haha (and also so so scared now they might be ditching it for a new ship eventually). it’s in pieces, his world view is going to pieces and can’t be patched together the way it was before, from what he knows he’s about to deliver the baby to someone else who’ll understand/love/deserve him better (I do think that feeling is still in him) and he doesn’t even have the certainty of the code anymore to fill the void. oh buddy. 

the discomfort I felt when we got back into the cockpit -- into where it’s supposed to be familiar and safe! -- and saw all the ocean junk lying around, making it feel weird and changed and dirty (it probably smells like rotten seaweed in there now :( no likey)... I mean it was also very funny to see the pilot’s chair held together with a literal fishing net, but please favreau leave my dad’s car/ego alooooone 

- baby laughing his little bum off at din catching the small sea monster before it got him and then munching it......... the ‘there’s nothing in this world my dad can’t fix’ safe energy.......... I’m so scared we’re coming up on something din can’t fix 

- knitwear in star wars: I didn’t know I wanted it, but I am ELATED with having been given it

- moff gideon’s amazing evil voice... back in our ears, in our hearts, I gleefully hate him 

- at least din’s armour is clean again after that (awful) swim? one must appreciate some silver linings along the way I suppose

- din goes straight for the main pilot’s seat once they get the imperial out of it, so he must feel really secure that he’s probably the best man for the job; he is genuinely a good pilot! (and after this I am wondering even MORE who taught him. who raised you within the mandos din??)

- even while everything is new and scary and falling apart we can live safe in the knowledge that at least frog lady and frog husband had a good day and will have a good and happy frog life together with their frog children

couple goals tbh 

(I don’t necessarily know how it works for frog people but I uh. guess they got busy quickly huh hahaha good thing mando didn’t turn up again until later)

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #I've mostly seen people love this episode so I feel a bit like a buzzkill about mostly being 'meh' about it but what can you do lol #I actively disliked a lot of the clone wars mando stuff so I'm biased I suppose

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Reviews: Force Sensitivities

I love Star Wars. I have since i was a kid. It just missed the Trinity of my Childhood, Spider-Man, Godzilla, and Transformers, by inches but i hold it in high regard. I’d say that it’s only a step behind the big three, along with the Alien franchise. I enjoy both franchises for a lot of the same reasons; Expansive lore, impeccable world building, and fantastic characters. I have a strong emotional connections to all things a galaxy far, far, away so the past few years have been difficult to witness. Under the “guidance” of Kathleen Kennedy, i watched my space wizards and cyborg warlocks, decline considerably. I saw all that creativity and inspired storytelling fall by the wayside in favor of identity politics and ego driven agenda.

Then, The Mandalorian dropped and everything changed. There’s been an infusion of quality, a resurgence of the creative, and one of the things to come out of this brand new inspiration is Star War: Visions. Visions is an anthology series of original stories, created by some of the top anime studios in Japan. That, alone, is enough to pique my interests. I love anime and the world Lucas created, lends itself to the medium almost effortlessly. It finally released yesterday and i was able to check out all of them, twice. Is this thing everything i dreamed of? Kind of? Sometimes?

The Duel

The first of the shorts presented and easily the most visually striking. This thing is a CG animation, usually kind of wonky but not so much with this short. I’m more a fan of traditional cell animation but Kamikaze Douga does a fantastic job with the new computer flavor. That expertise is put on full display with this Kurosawa inspired epic, an irony not lost on me. Old Kurosawa films like Yojimbo and Seven Samurai were direct inspirations for Star Wars so seeing it come full circle like this, is very rewarding. Overall, i liked this entry. It’s a great introduction for the anthology and delivers a strong viewing experience.

Tatooine Rhapsody

True to it’s anthology nature, the very next episode delivers something completely different than the last. This entry, made by Studio Colorado, is traditional animation with a heavy, heavy, influence from Leiji Matsumoto. One can definitely make the argument that this is what Interstella 9999 would look like if i had a Star Wars skin and i wouldn’t fight you about it. That’s kind of the art direction being leaned into with this short, that Captain Harlock/Galaxy Express 9999 look. I’m a sucker for that classic aesthetic so i kind of loved it. Didn’t care for the music but seeing a stylized Boba Fett was a real treat. This one is the most original of the anthology, so far from the overall Star Wars theme, and i think that hurts it some. As it’s own thing, though? Fantastic.

The Twins

This one is top tier for me and not just because it’s the first entry from Trigger. This one is good. It’s the first to really nail that more kinetic feel of the prequel lightsaber duels and, if you know anything about Studio Trigger, of course it would. These people gave us Kill la Kill and Brand New Animal. In fact, the overall look of this thing has shades of both Dead Leaves, Gurren Lagann and Promare all over it. It reminds me a great deal of the conflict between the Solo twins in legends. This thing is beautifully animated and tells it’s story with with skill. That said, it’s to one of my favorites. I love Trigger but this one, i think, doesn’t really live up to the Star Wars standard. Still, there is a lot of cool sh*t in here. Kyber powered Sith armor is something to behold, for sure.

The Village Bride

This one is the one for me. I f*cking LOVED this entry. I think it’s the nest of the lot for a lot of reasons. This thing feels the most like a Lucas or Filoni entry into the franchise. It delivers u to an alien world where we get to see the people interact with their surroundings. It delivers a personal conflict juxtaposed against a very real, very, worldly danger. It grounds us with great characters and does so with a beautifully rendered style. For me, The Village Bride is everything i want in a Star Wars story and i need to see more of these characters, more of this world, more of F, herself. She’s f*cking amazing! The Lady Jedi does some sh*t with her lightsaber that left me in awe. Kinema Citrus animated this one in the style of Katanagatari and it really works for this style of narrative.

The Ninth Jedi

This one is real special. It feels right at home in a Clone Wars narrative or something from the Old Republic. I adore the look of this one. Its one of my favorites, after The Village Bride and Lop and Ocho, but is far more action oriented than those to. This one focuses on lightsaber duels and delivers the best of the anthology, in my opinion. This f*cking thing goes hard to deliver that visceral, aggressive, fancifal style you see in the Prequel films  but completely stylized in this wonderfully fluid animation. The overall narrative is pretty simple but loaded with potential and i hope we get a continuation in the inevitable second season of Visions. Production IG really did their thing with this entry and i really hope it becomes something more.

T0-B1

If Astro Boy took place on Tatooine, you’d have T0-B1. This thing really leans into Tezuka’s style and is all the better for it.  I can’t say i really enjoyed the overall narrative but the look of this thing really stays with you. It’s incredibly distinct from everything in this anthology mostly because you don’t see the Tezuka style all too often nowadays but this entry definitely has more heart than most of it’s contemporaries. I was surprised by how much emotion was packed into this little cartoon and can definitely recommend it on the strength of that, alone. While not one of my favorites, i can definitely appreciate what Science SARU delivered.

The Elder

I didn’t like this one. The pacing was too slow and the characters were forgettable. I kind of hated the overall aesthetic and the narrative told was one we’ve seen from this universe a few times. That said, it has a dope ass lightsaber duel toward the end. That’s really the only good aspect of this short, in my opinion. Interestingly enough, this is the second entry from Trigger which makes it incredibly disappointing because they usually kill it. They did not kill it with this one. Not at all.

Lop and Ocho

This one was my second favorite of all nine shorts. It is the most “anime” of the lot and really leans into that genre with gusto. It also feels a lot like Star Wars as far as narrative is concerned. Similar to The Twins, this is a story of forced sensitive sibling, clashing over ideals, told through the crossing of their blades. It’s definitely interesting to watch, especially considering our heroine is an anthropomorphic bunny, something you don’t see too often in the Star Wars universe. I really enjoyed Lop and hopes she garners enough popularity to explore her character further in either a second season of Visions or an actual series dedicated to her personal journey. Geno Studio really impressed with this one.

Akakiri

This one might be the weakest of the lot, until you realize what you’re watching. All of these stories focused on Jedi and their perspective on the world but Science SARU went in a different direction. This is the story of how a Jedi falls. It’s an amazingly emotional watch once that revelation is delivered, putting everything before into perspective. It’s deftly told and works, for the most part, but i feel like this one needed an extra few minutes to develop fully. Still, as the booked to a rather excellent anthology, Akakiri does it’s job well.

The Verdict

This thing is pure Star Wars. It's everything that made Lucas' magnum opus fantastic. Some of these entries hit harder than others, my favorite being The Village Bride, but the overall content in this anthology is f*cking spectacular. I love the different animation styles and how these bite sized stories are told. Some of them take a great many liberties with he world rules whole others are fantastic homages to the genres that make up the Star Wars skeleton. Visions is work of love and passion. These shorts are made with care and not only revere the franchise which came before, but really lay the ground work for potential future exploration, which is what Star Wars has always been about. I still think Mando is the best thing to come out of Favreu's era, so far, but Visions is something very special and is a fantastic example of what can be coming next. If you love Star Wars, you'll love this show. If you left the fandom over Kennedy and her polarizing rhetoric, Visions is a great point to jump back in. Star Wars: Visions is f*cking exceptional and everyone should check it out if they can.

[thisisthe-way]

Kings and Wizards

Title: Kings and Wizards Fandom: Star Wars (The Mandalorian) Rating: T Summary: Din Djarin has given Grogu to Luke Skywalker to train. But the connection between the new (reluctant) Mandalorian “king” and the “wizard” Jedi goes deeper than he ever could’ve imagined. And he’s about to learn just how deep.

“It’s time for you to go.”

Din turned his uncomfortably exposed face toward Bo-Katan when she spoke, his brows furrowing as he blinked back the few remaining tears in his troubled brown eyes, pushing the sorrow back and allowing sternness and confusion to fill them instead. He knew what was coming next. Cara seemed to as well, and she spoke before he could: “Can we not do this right now? He just watched his kid leave.” “Which is why I’m giving him a head-start,” Bo-Katan replied, unable to look Din in the face. Din knelt, picking up his helmet, but didn’t deposit it back on his head yet. He approached Bo-Katan and held the darksaber in one final attempt, letting her see all of the raw emotion on his face. “Take it. I yield. It’s over. You have your ship and your weapon.” And the only thing he’d wanted had just flown away with a Jedi. “It doesn’t work--” “Take it,” Din snapped, eyes flaring, his whole face contorting with the pain and frustration. Grogu had been his only priority. He didn’t want to be ruler of anything.

Bo-Katan didn’t move, but she was looking at him now, her knuckles going white as she clenched her fists behind her back. “I can’t, and if you stay, I’ll be forced to kill you and take it.” Din snorted a little and finally placed his helmet on, before attaching the saber to his belt and looking at Cara and Fennec. “Then I guess it is time to go.” The gleaming beskar and dark visor turned toward Bo-Katan and she could feel the cold gaze he was giving her through it. Bo pursed her lips as she watched their backs retreat toward the elevator. She didn’t want this. She glanced down at the unconscious form of Moff Gideon--he had caused this. He had known. Known if he engaged Mando in a battle, and he’d won the saber from him, she would have to then turn around and engage Mando as well. Known that they would instantly become enemies. She also knew that they hadn’t exactly been anything but reluctant allies to begin with, but she had never meant ill-will toward him. She had wanted him to get his child back. She knew all too well what it was like to lose family. It was a pain she didn’t wish on anyone. She looked at Koska as she heard one of the cruiser’s transports being “comandeered” by the fleeing group. She turned her eyes toward the viewport as it left, jumping to hyperspace to meet with Boba Fett and Slave One at a rendezvous point that had not been disclosed to Bo because they had always planned on parting ways with her keeping the cruiser for her purposes. She turned to Koska again. “We’ll give him one day’s head-start,” she murmured, and then turned toward the controls. After all, the ship was only half the battle. She still needed the saber before she could return to Mandalore. And that meant the hunt for that lonely, nameless Mandalorian--she never had asked his name, had she?--would have to begin in haste. She set coordinates for their own safe rendezvous and then sent the cruiser into hyperspace as Koska moved to lock the unconscious Gideon in the brig.

-----------

Nevarro

----------- “Your debt is repaid,” Din said to Boba-Fett as they stood in front of Slave One. “The kid is safe.” 

It stung, burned deeper than Din could really put to words, that he wasn’t with him. But even without all the fancy Force powers, he knew Grogu was in better hands with the Jedi than he would be with him. He knew Moff Gideon wasn’t the worst the Galaxy had to offer, especially with someone as powerful and innocent as the child. Worse would come. And not every enemy could be contained or felled by a blaster shot. 

Boba Fett nodded and looked at Fennec, who nodded and returned onto Slave One. Boba glanced at the other Mandalorian. “If you have any more trouble,” he clicked some buttons on his wrist-cuff, the electronics beeping and sending a signal to Din’s. “You can find me at these coordinates. If you can afford it.” The smirk was audible even with his helmet masking his face. And the deadpan expression was clear on Din’s visor as his helmet turned toward Boba’s. But he was a member of the Guild. He understood--there was a silent understanding and appreciation between them. Boba nodded once more before following Fennec onto his ship. In only moments, they left atmo, on their way to their next escapade. And Din Djarin was left on Nevarro, shipless, childless, with Bo-Katan’s darksaber attached to his hip. He turned and looked over at Cara Dune, who stood a few feet behind him, frowning apologetically toward him. “I can find you a lead on another ship,” she offered when he caught up to her, walking next to him now as they moved through the archway into the market of the small town. 

Din nodded. “I’ll need it. It won’t take Bo-Katan long to find me. I’d rather not bring that battle down on you or your people, Marshal,” he said, the humor evident in his voice when he reached her title. Cara snorted. “I’m not worried about Princess Tight-Ass,” she replied as they entered her office, and she stored her gun away in the corner, sitting down and putting her feet up on her desk. “Let me put some feelers out. Might even be able to find you one like the one you had.” 

Din paused as he fingered the small knob tucked into his belt. Grogu’s favorite toy. He chuckled, sadly, to himself, and then nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.” -----

Bracca ------

The little alien flying the transport shuttle was prattling in a language Din didn’t understand as he finally gave him his credits and rolled his eyes under his visor. “Alright, alright, here,” he said as he handed the credits over. He hoped this tip from Cara would pan out. As it was, Bracca was more known for scrapping old starships, not leaving them intact. But they had just received the old patrol gunship on site days prior according to Cara’s contact. So, it was possible, at worst, only a few things had been scrapped off of it so far. Din walked down the landing platform. The planet was entirely coated in old ships and scrap metal, and the entire upper-deck scaffolding of it was made from it, with old scrapping tools built into it. There were caves and crevices of metal everywhere and as Din traveled, ducking through these corridors of rust, it was hard to find anything resembling an office where he could haggle, or even ask about the gunship. Finally, he found a large platform where a makeshift office of sorts had been erected, and he ducked inside, causing many of the scrappers who were talking to the scrapyard’s owner to turn and look at him with a mix of curiosity and fear. The owner looked up. He was no older than 40, with flame red hair, gray peppered into the fiery locks. He was wearing a red poncho, but the proxemics in Din’s helmet alerted him to a weapon underneath--a very familiar weapon. Unfortunately familiar. Din’s eyes widened beneath his helmet and he turned to leave. “You must be the Mandalorian,” the man called out, before murmuring something to his guys with a grin, as they all flitted out to get back to work. “Marshal Dune said you’d be coming.”

Din paused and turned back to him. “You’re the one looking for the old military patrol ship,” he continued. “You’re in luck--we just received one not two days ago. And we’re so behind on our jobs as it were, we haven’t even started dismantling it yet.” Din kept his stance as relaxed as he could. “How much?” “For a fully intact ship that I could scrap and make four times as much on?” the man replied with a grin as he led him out of the make-shift office and onto the platform, letting him look out into the piles of scrap where the unscrapped vessel lay nearly on top. “You’re the one costing me money, Mando. So you better make it worth my while.” Din was emotionally compromised after losing Grogu, it was true. But he was also still a Bounty Hunter, and a negotiator. He was a manipulator--and he was used to winning. “Then,” he began, visor trained on the man. “You let me have it free of charge and no one finds out there’s a Jedi running this backwater scrap heap.”

Despite Din thinking the man might flinch or fidget, instead, a smirk pulled on his lips, and he placed his hands on his hips, chuckling. “The New Republic is pretty accepting of the resurgence of Jedi, Mando. I’d be more concerned to be you.” “There are people out there hunting your kind,” Din replied. “And why are you so sure I’m a Jedi?” the man asked, and then noticed the helmet of Din’s armor tilting toward his hidden belt. “Ah, of course. Forgot those helmets aren’t just fancy head protection.” He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and looked at it fondly, before nodding to the darksaber clipped to Din’s belt. “Seems you have one too--but you’re most definitely Mandalorian. That much is clear. Don’t judge a book by it’s lightsaber, Mando.” Din’s lip curled under his helmet. Damn you, Bo-Katan. He really hated having this thing. “How much do you want?” he grumbled, his voice tight with irritation. “Well, I don’t want to wheel and deal for too long--I’m going off planet soon, and I don’t really have time to go through all the bargaining before I leave. I’ll tell you what--” The man eyed the saber--and then the beskar spear on his back. For a moment, Din thought he was going to ask for one of them--or both. And despite hating the kriffing thing, Din felt hesitant to offer the saber to the man for a ship. The man turned his visibly bright eyes back on Din’s hidden face and grinned. “I’m feeling generous. And, like I said, I’m in a hurry. So, whatever you have to offer--you can take it off my hands.” “Wh--” “Don’t make me change my mind, Mando.” The slight tilt of the helmet clearly conveyed the confusion on Din’s masked countenance beneath as he handed him what was left of his money, and watched as the man called to his crane ships to lift it out and onto a nearby platform. Din made his way toward the ship, pausing for only a moment to look over his shoulder at the man. “Can I ask you something?” “Depends on what it is.” Din wanted to ask about Grogu’s call. How far had it gone? Had all of the leftover Jedi felt it? Yet, he realized, it was true what he had said--a lightsaber could be just another piece of scrap from a forgotten time that had been dumped on this world. There was no proof this man was a Jedi. He shook his head. “Forget it. Thanks--for the ship.” And with that, he turned and continued toward the ship. He was already the size of an ant, making his way up the ship’s ramp when the man heard the familiar hum of his ride--a long-bodied, angle-winged ship that landed on a different platform. He heard the gunship take off, glancing as he caught a glimpse of metal just before the hazy skies of Bracca disguised it. He gave his itinerary to his second in command--a hard-working Twi’lek male--and explained the next few weeks worth of work to him before making his way toward the long, sleek ship, smirking at the dark-skinned woman who emerged. “Cere.” He said. “Cal.” She replied. “Where to?” “Dathomir,” he said. ------ Outer Rim - Open Space

----- Well, she had given him a head-start. It had been about a week since receiving his new ship. He should have known purchasing the exact same model of ship meant putting a bigger target on his back. Bo-Katan would be tracking the transponder signals from ships like his. Of course she would. “It’s a damn laser sword,” Din grumbled to himself as he dodged blaster fire from a light cruiser chasing him through the open space, his hand gripping the knob on his console tightly--a knob he had replaced with Grogu’s. 

He felt one of the shots knick his engine, causing him a spiral, and he growled and slammed a hand down on his comms button, “Dank ferrik, Bo-Katan, this isn’t necessary! I told you you could have the damn thing!” ‘It doesn’t work like that, Mando!’ came the response. ‘This is the only way.’ Din snorted to himself at the similarity to his tribe’s saying, realizing more and more there was no real way. His own way would have been…

Having Grogu here with him. He just wanted his son. His consoles began to beep--he realized in his spiral he’d been pulled into the gravitational field of a planet nearby.  “Dank ferrik,” he cursed again as he went down, taking another shot to the engine as Bo-Katan’s cruiser followed. Pressing a few buttons on the console and pulling on the steering, he was able to stabilize the ship as it came down hard onto a craggy, rocky, red-orange surface and noticed Bo-Katan’s ship hover for a moment in the blood-red sky before turning and gunning it out of atmo and away. He doubted it had anything to do with changing her mind about her mission to take the Darksaber from him. No, even without Jedi senses, he was very aware that the--darkness--of the planet he was now trapped on more likely had something to do with it. He stood and exited the Razor Crest II--which, really, he just called the Razor Crest--and looked up at his engines. They were billowing smoke from where Bo-Katan had ruined them with her ship’s blaster fire. And now, he was trapped on a planet with little to no vegetation, that seemed to have a perpetual blood sky and dark aura. He shuddered a little under his beskar, and checked to ensure all of his weapons--even the damn saber--were on his person. He had a feeling he was going to need them. He ignited his jetpack and trailed upward into the sky, flying over the sharp, uneven mountainous surface of the red-drenched planet, over the strange trees and a few ugly, ill-willed creatures as well. He even saw a few strange humanoids he didn’t recognize--men with tattooed faces and horns. Something about them felt familiar but he couldn’t place it. He landed in one of the few areas on this side of the planet with vegetation--odd, spiraling trees that had no real leaves, and huge trunks. Their spindly branches had something hanging from them--bulbs that seemed to pulse oddly. Din paused in his stride, his brow furrowing under his helmet. The bulbs began to glow, and suddenly, falling from within them were--”Dank ferrik,” he cursed, when he realized they were forms. Humanoid forms. Female humanoid forms. And they were definitely dead. They began to chase him through the forest, each body enflamed by green energy, shrieking as they ran through the trees with inhuman speed after him. He ignited his jetpack and went to take off, but something--someone--leaped on him. The weight wasn’t light or bony like the corpses that were chasing him. It had real heft--like a person. Suddenly, he heard the familiar whirr of a lightsaber, and his helmet swiveled, looking over his shoulder to find--a woman standing on his back as he flew, crouched with one knee on his jetpack, the other foot standing on his shoulder.

Her ice blue eyes seared into him, the yellow saber in her hand raised, her pale-white skin mostly exposed save for the black short-suit and red tunic wrapped around her midsection. She had the palest blonde, nearly white, hair growing out of her head. “You aren’t welcome here,” her low, raspy, feminine voice hissed as she brought the lightsaber down. Din threw one arm up and blocked the strike just as the woman brought the blade down into his jetpack, and cursed when it didn’t penetrate. “What are you?!” she hissed in irritation, and then felt a pull from something beyond the two of them, looking up and leaping off of the back of the man with a flip as green energy surrounded the jetpack, snapping the straps of it.  Din felt himself lose altitude immediately as he went plummeting to the terra firma below, tumbling, and groaning. He pushed himself up almost immediately, and grabbed the Darksaber off of his belt, igniting it to fend off the woman and the corpses, but found the corpses at a stand-still behind his attacker making her look like the grand general of an undead armor. After a few moments of intense staring between the two of them--another came through the crowd of the undead--this one was younger than the woman who had attacked him, though their Dathomirian biology made it nearly impossible to tell, and was wrapped from head to toe in red and black. Her own hair was shrouded by a hood, and she had the green energy crackling from her fingers. “Stand down,” she said to the older woman, who de-ignited her saber and bowed a little. “This is the one he was waiting for.” Din rescinded the blade of the Darksaber back into it’s hilt and clipped it to his belt. He watched as the corpse army was returned to their pods with care, and then the younger woman dropped her hood to reveal her entire face, and a crop of gray-white hair that went half-way down her back. “My name is Merrin. I am the Mother of this clan of two.” “I don’t know what any of that means,” came the electronically amplified voice of the Mandalorian through his helmet. “What are you?” “We are Nightsisters--the rightful rulers of this planet,” Merrin replied. “Welcome to Dathomir.” In that moment, that strange feeling of familiarity at seeing the strange men on the cliffs formed into a full-fledged memory of the Armorer and her teachings: “Our planet was taken--overrun by a man with red skin, black markings and devilish horns. He handed our home over to the Empire. We are wanted men and women--hunted.” “Then why do we take work from the Empire?” a young Din asked.

“This is the way,” the Armorer replied. “It is guild law--we work for those who can afford to pay. But remember, little foundling, we never break the creed of the Mandalorian, no matter what job we are given.” Din had done so. But only once. When he handed a foundling right into the Empire’s hands--his multiple removals of his helmet since, notwithstanding. He had regretted that decision, and gone straight back for Grogu. And his sect had come to his aid. Because their laws far outranked the necessity to bounty hunt. But he remembered now--Dathomirian. A Dathomirian had upheaved Mandalore. He wanted to feel a deeper sense of anger, remorse and frustration toward the women in front of him--or the men he’d seen on the cliffs. But he wasn’t truly Mandalorian. He was a foundling. He had never lived on Mandalore. Being Mandalorian to him was a creed--not a race. And even now, he questioned what being Mandalorian truly was to  him anymore. Removing his helmet for Grogu had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Necessary, even. Yet, when he heard Bo-Katan’s voice in his head calling him a child of the Watch, degrading him for his refusal to remove it, he wanted to hide under it forever. A battle raged inside him over what was even right anymore. 

And now this--Dathomirian women standing before him, reminding him of what his people had lost before they had even saved him. The battle only grew deeper. “What do you want?” Din asked, eyeing the older one especially. She seemed--unpredictable. Erratic. Her blue eyes were sharp and icy. She was one wrong step or word away from attacking again, kept at bay only by the words of the younger. He wondered why. “I need you to come with me, Mandalorian. He’s waiting for you,” Merrin said, again alluding to some he that Din had no idea about. Who was this he? As if sensing his question, the younger offered a bit of a wry smile. “You’ll be surprised but not entirely shocked, Mandalorian. This whole ordeal is about your son.” Din grew rigid suddenly, and he took a step forward, heavy and purposeful, despite knowing one wrong move could make the older woman lash out. Which she nearly would have if the younger’s hand has not paused her forward motion. DIn spoke, nearly snapped: “What about the kid?” “All will be answered, I promise. You have to come with us, though.” Din was still tense, defensive now that Grogu had been brought up, but he nodded, unable to deny his curiosity, and followed the women through the trees. “I don’t trust him,” grumbled the older woman as she walked next to the younger. “No Mandalorian would ever trust our kind after what Maul did to their planet.” “He’s different,” Merrin whispered back. “He is a foundling; he never lived upon Mandalore. He may know the story but he has no memory of the incident to give him pause in at least listening to what we have to say.” She glanced at the older woman. “Don’t forget who the Mother here is, Ventress.” The older, Ventress, gave a nod. “My apologies.” “You have a lot to atone for; and much to repay,” Merrin continued. “Don’t forget.” “And you don’t forget the promise you made to me,” Ventress replied. “The promise your mate made to me.” The younger chuckled, and smirked at her. “One thing at a time, Ventress. One thing at a time.”

It was hours of walking through the forests when they emerged on a small, abandoned village in the middle of Dathomir--the Nightsister village, that had been abandoned for decades save for one small girl who had grown into a woman during the Clone Wars, and had been found by a young Jedi padawan who had been trying to find his place in the galaxy, and pay back the life he had been spared by the protection of his own Jedi master. The Nightsisters led Din to a small house, made of the same rock and stone as the red-rimmed cliffs of the dour planet. They ducked inside, and Din was met with the smell of food cooking--and was taken aback by the cheer of--was that a child? “Mom!” came a cry, as a young girl with the same pale white skin as the two women, and a shock of long red hair, came bolting out of the next room over and threw herself into the Nightsister, Merrin’s, arms. She was no older than ten or eleven, and she radiated joy at seeing her mother. She reminded Din of Grogu. “Meelah,” the woman said with warmth, kissing her head. “Where is your father?” “You found him,” came a new voice--a very familiar voice to Din--as a very familiar red-headed man stepped out of the back room, cleaning his hands on his poncho, and smirked at the Mandalorian. “Good to see you again, Mando.” “....you are a Jedi, then,” Din said. “You knew where I would end up.” “Mm, in a sense,” Cal Kestis said as he approached the group, watching Ventress slump, huffily, into a chair--and then warm a little herself when Meelah bounced up into her lap. If there was anyone the Sith-apprentice-turned-bounty-hunter had a soft spot for, it was her Sisters. And the young Mother, and her child, had a special place in her heart. She had died--or gotten very close to it--when she had been buried like her Sisters on Dathomir--lovingly buried by hands that had once loved her in one of the burial pods. Little had she known that the young girl’s powers were growing. Somehow, her magic had inadvertently kept her alive--barely--and in stasis. Five years later, when the young man had riled the young Mother’s anger, and she had released the corpses of their Sisters, she had been released as well. Alive. Unexplainable--a bittersweet miracle of the Force. Because Ventress--Asajj Ventress--had already lost everything by then. Order 66 had been executed. All of the Jedi, save for Cal Kestis, were dead. 

He was dead. The owner of the loving hands that had buried her five years prior. Her Quinlan. Jedi Master Vos.

It didn’t help matters that the young Mother had begun a romance with Cal. Or that Cal shared Vos’ very unique Force abilities: his psychometry. She saw too much of herself and Vos in the couple. But it also had given her a soft spot for their child. The child that, despite herself, she would have given anything to have with Vos. If he had lived. If she could find him, now. Still, a part of her felt a tug from the Force. As if she had counted Quinlan out too soon, as if he were still out there. But then, would he not have felt her too? Come looking for her? Had he moved on--forgotten about her? She wouldn’t blame him. Still, she wanted to find him. Or at least what had happened to him. For her own closure. And so, she had sworn herself to the new Mother. To Merrin. In return for her service, Cal had been using his powers to try and find Quinlan. So far, no such luck. But at least Ventress had her Sisters back. Merrin, and Meelah. She would kill anyone who might try to harm them. “What does that mean? In a sense?” Din asked, snapping Ventress from her thoughts and memories. “Just because we Jedi have a certain handle on the Force doesn’t mean the things it shows us are always 100% correct,” Cal replied as he approached Merrin and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “When you came to Bracca, I got a feeling you’d be led here. Which is good, because this world is, despite it’s appearance, a safe haven from the leftover dregs of the Empire. It lives somewhere between fear and inconsequence.” He shrugged. “So they don’t touch it. They don’t even know the Nightsisters have a new Mother.” “What does any of that mean?” Din asked again, the frustration now clear in his voice. “This place,” the younger Dathomirian woman said, “used to be ruled by a matriarchal society of magic-wielders known as the Nightsisters. We use the Force in a much darker, more mystical way than the Jedi. My Sisters--they were ruled by a Clan Mother. The most powerful of the Nightsisters.” She glanced at Ventress. “....they were all slaughtered during the Clone Wars.”

A flash of his parents’ faces appeared behind Din’s eyes. “I was all that remained--or so I thought,” Merrin said, looking at Ventress. “Because I was the only living, practicing Nightsister left on Dathomir, the last of the Clan Mother’s powers were inherited unto me. I became the Mother. All things on Dathomir bow to my will now.” “Because the Nightsisters were slaughtered, and the Nightbrothers are too primitive in their machinations without a Mother to guide them, the Empire didn’t think Dathomir was much of a threat,” Ventress mumbled. “They left it alone to rot on it’s own. But Merrin preserved it to the best of her abilities.” “And?” Din said, glancing at the other two near Merrin. “And you’ve met Cal. And this is Ventress--Asajj Ventress.” Merrin said, looking at the older woman. “She was one of my Sisters in the pods, when Cal brazenly stepped foot on my planet without permission. When I released my fallen Sisters on him--she emerged in tact.” “How?” Din asked--none of this Force fodder made any sense to him. “Not entirely sure,” Cal said. “It’s speculated that a connection to the dark side can keep someone alive if they have enough rage inside of them to will it to. But the Nightsister magic lands somewhere in between light and dark. Ventress has the magic in her despite barely using it. And she used to be a Sith. It could be any combination of her will to live, her former connection to the dark side, and the strength of Merrin’s magic as the Mother that kept her alive. We don’t know for sure.” Din sat down--his head was reeling now. He remembered the other Jedi woman, Ahsoka Tano, mentioning the dark side. But she had said it with a sort of fearful reverence. As if it were something to be avoided, because the power of it was too great. Too dark. And yet this Jedi--he was in cahoots with those known to tap into the dark. And he didn’t seem phased or frightened at all. He had even had a child with one of them. It was almost as confusing as his sudden uncertain understanding of the Mandalorian creed. It seemed more and more that the galaxy was settling on middle-grounds rather than bold black and white strokes. But was it supposed to be that way? “Fine--fine, alright--then why am I here?” Din asked. “Why do you think your Force-thing brought me to you twice, Jedi?” “Simple: two things,” Cal said as he sat down at a small table in the middle of the room and looked at Din straight in his helmet, as if he could see the eyes and face beneath perfectly. “I was once looking for Force-sensitive children left in the galaxy, to try and rebuild the Jedi Order. I abandoned that mission, realizing that once upon a time, we, as Force sensitives, didn’t have a choice but to be raised in the Temple, raised as Jedi. I didn’t think it was my right to take that choice away again. Which brings me to point number two…” Din’s brows furrowed under his helmet. “I knew Grogu,” Cal said, finally, and then shrugged. “Not well, mind you. I had seen him around the Temple. Training, as I did, before I was chosen as a padawan and taken to finish my training on my Master’s light cruiser above Bracca. But I knew him--he and I were two of the few lucky ones who weren’t slaughtered that night.” Din leaned back heavily in his chair as he looked into Cal’s face--saw the sincerity, and the pain. The memory of losing everything. Then, he straightened. “Okay, so?” “Do you know who you gave your son to, Mando?” Cal asked, frowning a little. “The Jedi you let him leave with?” “No,” Din admitted. “I don’t know anything about any of this.” Cal leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “His name is Luke Skywalker,” he murmured, “and he’s the son of the man who killed all of the younglings that night in the Temple.” Din tensed immediately, and shot up, and Cal got to his feet as well, throwing up his hands to stop him. “Wait!” Cal said, shaking his head. “It’s okay; Luke is a good man--I’ve sensed his sincerity. He isn’t like his father was at the end. But there is something about him that troubles me.” Cal glanced at Merrin, and frowned. “He does want to restore the Jedi Order. Train younglings in the ways of the Jedi, the ways that constricted so many of us before. I realized after becoming a Knight--and then meeting Merrin, that the ways of the original Order were stifling.” He looked at Din. “Attachments are forbidden. No familial, or romantic, attachments are allowed. Master and apprentice only.” Din’s heart sank into his stomach as he remembered Ahsoka’s words on Corvus. I can’t train him, she had said, his attachment to you is too strong. “Unfortunately, Luke allows himself one exception to this rule,” Cal continued as he stood and picked his daughter up off of Ventress’ lap and held her. “His twin sister, who he is also training.” He chuckled as Meelah laid her head on his shoulder. “Basically, what I’m saying is his relationship with the Force is an enigma. It’s unclear how he’ll train Grogu. What boundaries he’ll insist on. And he isn’t the only Force wielder who heard Grogu’s call.” He smirked when he saw the helmet jerk up to look at him. “You were going to ask me that on Bracca,” he said, “but you hesitated because you didn’t know if I was trustworthy.” “We all felt the pull,” Merrin said, and glanced at Ventress. “All of us.” Din suddenly put two-and-two together. “...it wasn’t just Jedi who felt it.” “No. And I think that puts your little green son in a lot of danger,” Cal murmured. “Luke Skywalker is a hero--a very powerful Jedi. But even he wouldn’t be able to fight off an onslaught of Dark side users if they all descended on Grogu all at once. He’ll need help.” Din stood, suddenly resolute in what he had to do. He looked at the Force wielders before him--the Jedi, the former Sith, the Nightsister--and asked, “Are you offering? Because--” He paused, and glanced at Meelah, tucked against her father. He was reminded of holding Grogu in those last moments before he handed him to Luke. “--that kid means everything to me. With, or without your help, I’m going to look after him.” Cal glanced at Merrin, who approached him and Meelah, and placed one hand on each of their backs. She had determination in her eyes as well. Cal nodded, and then looked at Din and smirked. “Then, let’s get started.” 

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