#stop eating those eggs grogu

[cevans-is-classic]

"You think you're all cool and mysterious but we both know if you removed your helmet you'd have no idea how to maintain eye contact."

He'd only been awake for ten minutes, and already you were having your morning rant.

Grogu followed you back and forth his ears wiggling as he mimicked your movements.

Djarin watched.

"I keep being told to 'control my face' whenever someone says something stupid, but I know, I know, you have no room to talk. You stand there with your hip propped, your armor all shiny, that helmet tipped to the side. You could be asleep! I know you've been asleep! Are you asleep now? Are you? It's early still."

Today is going to be one of those days.

Djarin held back a sigh, leaned down to pick up Grogu, "Morning to you too."

A withering look, "I've been awake for hours."

"Of course." He'd grown accustomed to you coming and going every few months.

Welcomed the times you could stay and thanked you profusely when you'd watch his homestead when they couldn't return for days.

Right now he's contemplating if he should have let Karga introduce the two of you.

"I had another dream."

That was something he'd never grow used to.

Grogu taught him what the force was. He'd seen the beauty of it — watched it be used to heal and save people as well as allow his son to reach the snacks he shouldn't be eating.

The force was the strongest hold the galaxy had and who could wield it — they were attuned to a way of life no other could understand.

Even with that knowledge he'd never knew there could be other — abilities.

Until you.

Until Karga called him to the main city and asked him to help protect you.

The dreams were a gift.

A gift that cost you pieces of your mind.

(That's what he believes anyway.)

"What kind of dream?"

Grogu settled in his chair, large eyes following Djarin as he put together a small breakfast for the youngling. He sat a bowl of broth in front of him, holding the spoon until Grogu grabbed it with a cooing frown.

"We talked about you trying." He pouted more but took the spoon.

"I saw a man."

"Ooo-ap." Grogu cooed again, reaching for the bowl of broth with his spoon waving towards it.

Djarin pushed the bowl closer, "A man?"

"He moved through many room. His person ever changing — a prince, a monster, a father, a villan — a man choked by smoke. He walked from face to face until they all blended together."

You once dreamt that a Fosibird would take flight over Nevarro — Fosibirds were extinct. Djarin assumed you'd exaggerated your dream and rolled your words off his shoulder.

The following week, a merchant purchased a Fosibird egg in attempts to create a statue of it, and as it laid in the hearth, the creature came to life.

He'd become weary of your dreams after that.

Learned what was prophetic and what was vivid telling of other people's lives.

Grogu finished his broth, the spoon still waving, while liquid dripped from his mouth.

Djarin felt his lips flatten out in an attempt at holding back laughter.

You used a cloth to wipe at his mouth and Grogu gurgled in response.

"What did you get from the dream?"

That had you standing still.

He'd once describe your eyes as a galaxy of their own. Far far away from where the rest of them stood.

Bo-Katan had rolled her eyes but he hadn't been attempting to flatter you. He'd been truthful about his thoughts.

"I dreamt it was you."

Grogu stopped waving the spoon and looked between the both of you.

"Of me?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you were mumbling about my facial expressions?"

A little frown furrowed your brow, "Yes. You have very expressive eyes — they tell a story."

"You don't know what my eyes look like."

For a moment he felt like that was a lie.

"Din Djarin," You took the spoon from Grogu and moved the bowl towards the sink, "I've never seen your face but I've seen you. Expressive eyes."

Djarin shook his head, "What if I don't have eyes?"

"I'm crazy not stupid. Oh, he threw up."

Grogu's mouth was covered in yellow colored spittle.

Djarin cursed rose and lifted his son from his chair to carry him to the sink, "You ate before breakfast didn't you?"

His large eyes darted to you and you shrugged, "I told you. I'd been up for hours."

Maybe you were right about his facial expressions. He knew if he didn't have his helmet on the look he was giving, he could kill with it.

The smile you gave him could bring others back to life.

Pedro Masterlist

Galaxy Eyes Masterlist

#din djarin x reader #din djarin snippet #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #din grogu #din djarin x you #I dont know what this is #i had the image stuck in my head of reader and him talking back and forth #while grogu eats between them #and this came about #djarin grogu and galaxy

[wakandas-vibranium]

Planet Earth 2023 || Part Five

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, slow burn, massage, cumming untouched if you squinty squint

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Again thank you to those who interact with this story! You are much appreciated. Please like, comment, and reblog!

part one

part two

part three

part four

part six

The following days breezed on by in a jubilant blur. In a week, there was a lot you could learn about aliens. It turns out they weren't too different from us earthlings. Grogu really liked bacon, but he preferred sausage, and Mando liked his eggs to be fried hard rather than scrambled. Mando and Grogu were quite the roommates to have. Since they arrived, there hasn't been a dull moment. Without even trying, they made your vacation much more enjoyable.

Mando loosened up a great deal once he realized that no other pirates had followed him and his son to Earth. While he never fully stopped wearing his beskar armor, he did favor the garments you offered him. He eventually admitted that when compared to his mandalorian garb, your apparel was less restrictive. It was, of course, compared to a full-sleeved bodystocking, thigh and shin guards, knee-pads, vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, and a helmet. Whew. You were astonished that he didn’t suffer from heatstroke at some point. It was impressive that he could run at high speeds and fight with such precision while wearing all that armor. 

You tried something new for dinner tonight, and let's just say Grogu isn't a big fan of asparagus. Mando, on the other hand, marveled on how well you paired the asparagus with the pot roast and mashed potatoes. The two of them could be like night and day sometimes. After dinner, it had become a habit for the three of you to linger at the dining room table to get to know each other better, or you would move to the living room to watch tv. You even devised a new sitting arrangement that allowed Mando to eat with the two of you without exposing his face. 

Spending time with Mando now that he was more relaxed failed to decrease your sexual desires. You craved him not just carnally but romantically, too. You were developing feelings for him at an alarmingly fast pace. Too quick for your liking, but what could you do? How do you avoid someone who lives with you? 

You couldn't tell if Mando had the same desires as you or if he was just being kind. 

Obviously he had sex. He was a father for fuck's sake. At least you thought he did. Even though Grogu didn't look like him in the slightest. Both were aliens, but different species. With all that Mandalorian clothing on, how did he even manage to have sex? You weren't one hundred percent sure, but you'd love to help him out of his tunic. You decided to give him a few more days to make a move before you just outright asked him to knock the sonic rings out of your pussy. Just a couple more days, you thought to yourself. 

The untimely darkening of your laptop screen pulled you back to the present. You and a handful of colleagues were brainstorming fresh and innovative methods to control prolonged bleeding caused by an unexpected trauma. You tapped a random key on your laptop, forcing it awake so you could check the time. 

1:08AM

Jeez. You'd been at it for nearly three and a half hours. Mando and Grogu went to bed around ten. You were restless for an unknown reason and figured you could conduct a little research until your eyes got low, but to no avail. You were on vacation yet you continued working. 

You scratched your head and leaned forward slightly, adding a few sluggish sentences to the word document before zoning out for a second time. You had no helpful thoughts about prolonged bleeding, so you were momentarily useless to your coworkers. The Mandalorian was all you could think about at the moment. The manner in which he walked as well as the gruffness of his baritone voice through the modulator, the adorable way he interacted with his son and drank his morning coffee, the way he looked in his beskar armor and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants—he was striking. Everything about him intrigued you. 

And as if he could hear your booming thoughts, Mando appeared around the corner and strolled into the living room where you were sitting. He was wearing blue gym shorts, a white t-shirt and his helmet of course.. 

He strolled over to the longer sofa, oblivious to your presence in the study. He moved to sit down, but not before he caught sight of the glow coming from your laptop screen. "Hi," his modulated voice murmured, "You're still up?" You nodded. 

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, finally slamming your laptop closed. Mando was much more engaging than the journal article on your fading laptop screen. After standing up, you crossed the entrance to the study into the living room and sat on the opposite side of the same couch he perched on, folding a leg under yourself before shifting your body to face him. 

“Yes,” he admitted, angling his body to face you as well, “This planet is hard to adjust to.” 

“How many planets have you been to?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, half shrugging, “I lost count after thirty.” 

“Thirty planets? Wow. That’s actually kind of fuckin’ awesome.” 

“I guess it is,” he huffed, it almost sounded like a small laugh. 

“So, why’d your ex come over like that the other night?” Mando asked, voice heavy with curiosity, but you also detected a smidge of disdain. 

“I’m still trying to piece that together,” you admitted, sighing deeply, “I thought he was done with me.” 

“Done with you?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, “Ben left me two weeks before our wedding day.” 

“Di'kut,” Mando scoffed, shaking his head in dislike, “Why would he do something stupid like that?” 

“He never told me,” you shrugged, unconsciously scooching closer to Mando. “That was the first time I spoke to him since he left me.” 

Now that you knew Ben's true colors, you were glad that he left you before things got too permanent. He was an egotistical coward, and you dodged a very big bullet. 

Good riddance.

He hummed, thinking of what to ask you next. He hesitated before asking, “Do you want him back?” 

"Hell no!" you exclaimed a little louder than necessary.

"I'm glad." Mando said warmly. You couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. He was glad that you didn't want your ex back. What did that mean?

“What about you?” you asked as you leaned closer to him, “Got any crazy exes I should know about?” 

“No,” he replied, chuckling softly at your question and the silly face you made once he answered your question. “Why did you make that face?” 

“I’m finding it hard to believe that you aren’t taken.” 

“Well I’ve had a few situationships I guess, but nothing long term.” 

“Mmhmm,” you said, squinting at him, still not buying it. 

He laughed full on out this time, shaking his tin can fondly at you, “I really like you, Tulip. You’re so funny.” 

“I like you, too, Mando.” you said, joining him in a laughing fit. 

“Din.” The Mandalorian uttered between laughs. 

“What was that?” 

“My name,” he professed, “Is Din Djarin.” 

“Well, that’s a nice name, mesh’la,” you said honestly, flashing him a toothy grin. “It suits you well.” 

“Thanks.” he said gently, trying to hide his blush. 

You stretched out your tucked leg and shook it slightly. "My leg is trying to fall asleep." He gestured for you to put your leg across his lap, and you eagerly obliged.

You rested your leg in his lap, and he traced his fingers down your leg before slowing to knead at a particular spot where he found a knot. You had to use every ounce of willpower that you had to stop a moan from escaping past your lips.

“Fuck,” you cursed, letting out a high pitched groan as he kneaded his thumb over a particular tender spot just beneath your knee. His fingers flinched away from your skin as he tried to gauge whether you were in pain or not. He looked up at you, searching your face. 

“No, that felt good,” you said. With a nod of his head, he placed his fingers once more in the spot just below your knee. You moaned softly, "Please don't stop, Din."

"How does that feel?" He asked, his voice gentle and low through the modulator.

"It feels good." You exhaled softly. "You can go harder if you want," you added. 

He pulled your leg closer to him, bringing you and your knee closer to him for a better angle. You let out a small yelp and felt your face warm as you struggled to recover from the embarrassing sound that had just slipped past your lips. You felt wetness seep into your panties as your clit throbbed, achingly. 

Din positioned his hands deliberately this time, such that his thumbs were able to dig into the meat of your quadriceps right above the tender joint.

You let out an involuntary whimper as your eyelids fluttered shut. Fuck, if he didn't stop, you were going to cum. Just from him massaging your goddamn knee. He had to know what he was doing to you by now. There was no way he didn’t. 

“Harder,” you said. 

Din used both thumbs to dig two straight lines, one on each side of your thigh, pressing in deeper as he stroked them up and down slowly. 

“Fuuuck,” you whimpered again, louder this time, biting your lower lip before saying, “Just like that, Din.” 

Din let out a quiet gasp before kneading your lower thigh even harder, really digging in with all of his strength. Your nipples hardened under your tank top, your breaths got harsher and the tight coil in your stomach began to unravel. 

"It's really tight right here, cyar," Din grunted, squeezing the meat of your thigh and before you knew it, an orgasm ripped through your belly. You buried your teeth into your lower lip, almost drawing blood. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bit back a downright sinful moan. You couldn't remember the last time you came untouched. Probably never. 

Din noticed your thigh quivering, and before he could gauge your reaction, you leaned forward and coughed a few times into your hand. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded and uttered, “I’m g—good.” 

“Want me to do the other leg?” 

“Yes, ple—please.”

You brought your other leg into his lap and he massaged your knee and upper thigh. His hands were magical. He found every knot, even ones you didn’t know were there. He was perfect. Was there anything that he couldn’t do? Little did you know his massage was luring you right to sleep.

Your head dipped to the side, and you jerked yourself awake, blinking wildly. Din was still sitting there with your legs in his lap, caressing your lower thighs. 

You let out a long yawn and covered your mouth. Din yawned as well, indicating that he, too, was tired.

"All right," you said as you removed your legs from his lap and straightened up. "Time for us both to go to bed," you offered your hand for him to grab, and when he did, you hauled him to his feet.

"I just wanted to thank you again for allowing my son and I to lay low here with you for a while," Din remarked, squeezing the hand that had helped him up once before letting go. The massage was all the thanks you needed, you thought. 

"I should be thankin’ you," you murmured as you moved to close the door to your study before turning back to face him. "This is the most fun I've had in years." 

You both stood there in pleasant silence.  You were both exhausted, yet you didn't want to leave the other's presence. You thought you saw a bulge when you helped Din to his feet, but when you turned back around after closing the door to your study, it was gone. Just your imagination. You wanted to stay on the couch and talk some more, but after a mind-numbing orgasm and a splendid massage, you were struggling to keep your eyes open. 

You said to yourself, screw it, and closed the distance between the two of you, placing your arms around Din's shoulders and pulling him into a much-needed hug.

“What—um, what was that for?” Din whispered. 

“You just seemed long overdue for a hug is all,” you whispered back. 

“I honestly can’t remember the last time I had one.” Din revealed. His admission pulled on your heartstrings and you had to force yourself not to pull him in for another embrace and never let go. 

“Well, that stops now. I will hug you more often if that’s alright with you.” you said, smiling at him as you took a couple steps back, giving him some space. 

He peered at you and tilted his head before replying, “It is.”

“Great,” you giggled softly, “And you can hug me whenever you feel like it.” 

He hummed in amusement, “Whenever I feel like it, huh?” 

“Whenever.” You nodded.

Din took a hesitant step forward and held out his arms in an awkward angle. You closed the remaining space and wrapped your arms around him, tighter this time. You weren't sure how long you both stood there embracing each other, but it was the most enjoyable few minutes of your life. You both rocked side to side, oh so slowly, appreciating the warm embrace. He felt amazing in your arms.

You caught yourself drifting off on his chest and grudgingly pulled away from him, breaking the hug. 

He ran his hand down your arm and clutched your hand in his before you could turn away from him. You squeezed his hand and brought your other hand back up to his shoulder. “Thank you,” he repeated, more sincerely this time. 

“No need to thank me,” you whispered, smiling softly up at him as you rubbed your thumb across his bare shoulder, “Good night, Din.” 

“Good night, Tulip.” he breathed, letting go of your hand. 

It was obvious you both didn’t want to stop touching each other. You bit back a desperate groan due to the sultriness of his baritone voice. He had to know what he was doing to you. You dropped your hand and turned away, giving him a tiny wave before sauntering off to your bedroom alone, even though you didn't want to.

#please like comment and share 🫶🏾 #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #pe2023

[grogusmum]

MARCH: In Which, Beans Are Not Beans, Eggs Are Everyplace and I Have To Eat Them (this is doing my part, people!) An Eostre Story as told by Grogu Djarin

WORD COUNT: 1000ish

RATED: G

WARNINGS: excessive fluff and sassafras, oh and food. Lots of food.

A/N: Here is the March installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023. Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms Ostara or Eostre marks the vernal equinox, the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere and one of the two days when the amount of daylight and darkness is equal- and from here on in the days get longer. Ever wonder where all the bunnies and eggs in the Easter celebration come from? It comes from this holiday right here. 

During a milestone celebration, I did a Grogu Character Takeover and got this ask-

Have you ever seen rabbits on the farm or is big ears the only rabbit you’ve met? That reminds me, since you like eggs so much have you heard about Easter which is all about hunting for eggs. I think you’d be amazing at it. Did you know bunnies can be made out of chocolate?

I thought it might be fun to expand on Grogu’s answer for this month's year of creation fic.  This is set in A Galaxy Far Far Away AU. Here is a link to that series (though you don't really have to read it to get what's going on here except that Din and Grogu are on Earth with a pagan f!reader who lives in a house called Juniper Cottage.) This is not a “witchy” one, but I hope you enjoy!

At Jupiter Cottage, Easter is called Éostre, but I was told when it comes to eggs and bunnies they are very the same! This is one of those Special Days on the calendar on the wall. And that means fun and food!

First is The Preparation. 

When I waked up one day the Jupiter Cottage had bunnies everywhere. Wooden ones, and softy ones, plus also ones that might break so please do not force lift them, thank you very much. AAAALLLLL the winter decorations were gone and the little seeds we planted on the windowsill a few weeks ago on that day about guessing when spring comes were peeking out of the dirt! 

But the most important thing is collecting eggs. This is a thing I am very good at. And the hens do not mind one bit!! We have “an Agreement”. That is permission to eat their eggs. I was very shocked by this news cuz my past experience with eating eggs was… well, let’s just say- Not. Great.  ANYWAYS, all the hens love me very a lot and we are best friends. Eva is the only hen in the hen home that gives us white eggs, so we had been saving up her eggs for a little while so we would have plenty of white eggs “for coloring”.

This is what you do: the eggs get boiled up first. This can be a frustrating process. Cuz if they crack, you can not color them. But I do not mind it, cuz I get to eat The Mistakes! Then they go in little cups. The cups all have their own colors- there is blue water, and red water, plus also yellow water, and all the waters smell weird. I am NOT allowed to drink ANY of them! 

I had trouble remembering this rule. 

We dipped the eggs in, and when they came out! They were all the colors of red and purple, yellow and blue, and green (my favorite)! This is cuz of mixing colors together and making other colors! WHAT?! Dad and Me were taught to draw pictures on the eggs before putting them in the color water with this little magic crayon! It was a very big surprise I tell you, cuz you couldn’t see what you drawed at all! Then, after putting them into the waters, WOW, the drawings is RIGHT THERE! We drawed rabbits and suns, plus also mudhorns…. and frogs a-course.

I was so excited at bedtime the night before Éostre! I was thinking about that bunny visiting us and giving me chocolate and things. I got wiggley, plus also very giggling, and stopping wiggling and giggling is hard, I tell you!

Dad sighed his sigh of you are my dear child, who never does anything wrong ever, but I am just a tired father many times.

The sun waked up and waked me up, so it was not my fault at all! So I waked Dad and he said, all super sleepy and gravel, I’m sleeping, lil womp rat.

So I just went out to peek out the door for the surprises the Éostre Bunny left for me. I brought Long Ears with me. (You know who Long Ears is, right? Yeah, we’ve discussed that guy) Cuz she is an expert being a bunny and all. I found a trail of the tiniest color eggs I have ever seen in my entire life. First, I sniffed it, and then I tasted one, cuz that is what I do! And they were so yummy! They did not taste like ANY egg I have EVER had, and I have had many eggs, even some we do not talk about!

(Frogs are friends, not food!)

ANYWAYS I was informed later that they are called “jelly beans”. But they are not beans at all, they are candy, so a Special Treat! Which is code for I can not have them all the time, which is not what I want to hear, Father!

How can they not be beans, it says bean in its very own name!? Like Candy Corns, did you know they are not corns at all? I was shocked by that news. But I do not care so much cuz candy corn is not so much… good. It is sweet. But… blah, crayony. How I know what crayons taste like is another story, that I am not telling at this time.

The jelly not-beans leaded to a basket, oh boy! It had so many good, good things! Chocolate rabbits! Well, rabbit SHAPED chocolate. I got a little concerned. And so did Long Ears! And these guys called Peepses! Have you had them?! Like baby chicks BUT NOT! These peepses are yellow with white fluffy fluff inside and chocolate on their bottoms. Plus also a wooden duck guy that you pull with a string and his big orange feet go whap whap whap on the floor and his bill goes quack quack quack and I walked him around and around! Oh and a little wooden cup on a stick, plus also an egg on a string… it is a game of trying to swing the egg into the cup. This is hard. And the egg is hard. And bonky when it hits you in the face.

Dad likes it and is good at it. He says I will get better, I just need to practice. I just walked that Duck guy around some more.

In New Hampster it is still cold outside even when it is Spring. Sometimes it snows. But not this time… So when it was not “the crack of dawn, for kriff sake” we went outside to do The Egg Hunt. It is a good thing I am a good egg finder! Cuz eggs was every place- under blueberry bushes and the jupiter bushes a-course, and in the garden shed and under Clara, which was funny. She said, Grogu did I lay a purple egg!? And I said, no silly chicken!

Pfft, I love her, but that guy. We also went for a walk in the woods to look for green and had a feast! 

Then a special moment happened! That was the Moment of the Equimox! This is when the sun moves across a line on Earth. And you get to do an eggsparmint. That is standing an egg up on one end, and it will stay! Or so they say, cuz we tried and tried… Dad and me were skepical.

And that is the special day of Eostre at Jupiter Cottage. And it was a good thing I like eggs so much, cuz we had to eat them for DAYS! We ate them hard boil, and devils, plus also salad samich.

this is Long Ears.

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

You can find more of my writing here, and if you are interested in being tagged for this or any of my other works, here is my taglist form.

And if you want to ask Grogu a question, you can find him @grogu-explains-it-all

#as told by grogu #grogu #grogu djarin #wheel of the year series #year of themed creation #eostre #easter #ostara

[handspunyarns]

You Were Marked: Day Four.

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C    

word count:   2.1K 

summary: Din cannot stop laughing, Marathel ends up in a tree, and eggs are thrown with extreme prejudice 

warnings: Mando'a and English cursing, violence to unborn ovoids 

You Were Marked: Masterlist 

<- You Were Marked: Previous Chapter 

Din was still somewhere between dreaming and waking. He could only see soft, fading images in his mind: a gentle curve of a jawline, a slope of a pale-skinned shoulder. He heard a soft voice, quietly saying, “No . . . we can’t . . .” This denial made him furrow his brow even as he dozed, still gently supported in the herbal-scented clouds of sleep. Whyever not? He thought in his sleep. “No . . . don’t . . .” the soft voice pleaded again. No, don’t say ‘no’, he dreamed, but his dream was cut off like hitting a brick wall when he heard Marathel say, “Grogu! No, don’t!”, and Din felt the pounce of the little green goblin on his lower abdomen, not quite his area but close enough to make him grunt loudly with an “URGH,” and struggle to a sitting position with a babbling Grogu in his lap. 

Marathel, outside the dark curtained cubicle, stammered, “I’m so sorry, Bounty Hunter! I told him not to wake you . . .” 

“’s all right,” Din muttered as he pushed himself to a standing position, Grogu in the crook of his arm. “Time I was up. What the shab is so important, huh, buddy?” He stepped through his curtains and looked up to see Marathel standing primly in the center of the room, her hands clasped over her stomach. His first thought was that she was doing her best to look anywhere but at his face – well, helmet -- and his second thought was that she looked quite pretty today. Instead of her usual tunics and pants of dull tans, greens, and greys, she was wearing a gown of sunset yellow that fell into a swirl of fabric just above her ankles. Over this she wore a smock of deep charcoal grey, embroidered with yellow flowers around the neckline. Her silver hair was pulled back in a matching yellow scarf that was twisted around her shock of hair and tied off at the end.  

Marathel looked dismayed that Din was awakened in such a startling manner. “I told Grogu that I needed his help this morning, but we couldn’t leave until you had awakened. I did not want you to find him missing. But . . . he is impatient.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To collect eggs.” 

“Eggs? Already?” 

She looked at his helmet for the first time, confused. “What? Oh . . . no. Not Dahl eggs. It is not quite time for those. Chook eggs.” Din tilted his helmet at her in his quiet way that she already knew meant that he needed more information. “Chooks are, uh . . . fluttery, rather stupid ground birds. They lay lots of eggs that are good for eating. I thought it may be fun for him.” She gestured to the table, where a covered plate waited. “I made you some breakfast. Grogu has already eaten. We will just be past the vegetable garden, if it is acceptable to you?”  

She had returned to her nervous formality of a couple days previous, Din noticed, as she dropped her head, and her hands began to go up her sleeves. Din stepped over and placed Grogu in her arms before her hands disappeared. “That is fine with me. That is within shouting distance, I think." 

Marathel turned a light shade of a very becoming pink having Din so close to her. She nodded, and said, “We will not be long. You will have privacy, and I will shout as we get near.” She turned towards this kitchen, cooing to Grogu, “Yes, we can finally go now, little one.” The two stepped off the platform and disappeared around the rock ridge. Din waited a few more moments, and sure he was alone, removed his helmet and gloves. He lifted the cover off the plate: toasted slabs of bread with soft cheese and fruit, with some pan-fried meat. A fresh mug of her herbal tea. He had been eating better these past few days than he had the past few months – not that he was complaining – but food was not a high priority for him. He could get too used to this kind of treatment. And the bread. Osik, she made good bread. He shoved a slab into his mouth before he even sat down.  What a good wife she would make, he thought idly, before he quashed that idea. He was not in the market for such an arrangement. He had all he could do to keep the child safe from the Imps, as well as keeping his Creed without entangling with a woman or any partner on a long-term basis. He had told Omera essentially that, and he hoped that she had found the person she needed. 

And what – or whom – did Marathel need? He scoffed, and muttered, “She got what she needed last night,” under his breath with a smirk, and then silently chided himself for such an unkind thought. He finished eating, and then took the opportunity of being alone to clean himself up, washing his hair, cleaning the bite wound again with a fresh layer of salve – this brought a small grin to his face -- and changing out his thermals and flight suit for a fresh set he had brought with him from the ship. He was in the process of reattaching his cuisses when he heard a distant shriek. Certain that it came from the direction of where Marathel and Grogu had gone, Din leapt into action and was already running that way, strapping on his jetpack and two of his most favorite blasters as he went. He heard Marathel scream, “Bounty Hunter! Bounty Hunter!” making him panic. He was already thinking the worst: Grogu was hurt in some way, a chook had pecked him in the eye, a rabid Dahl was making off with the both of them – as Din tore past the vegetable garden and leapt over the fencing that enclosed the chooks, noticing that the chooks she spoke of were indeed some sort of chicken. Skidding to a halt in the middle of the enclosure, sending chooks fluttering and clucking in all directions, Din saw that Grogu was fine. Grogu, in fact, looked perfectly pleased with himself, sitting on the ground, the basket beside him, as he held an egg in each hand. He looked quizzically up at Din and then ate one of the eggs whole. But Marathel was nowhere to be seen. Din spun around, shouting, “Marathel? Marathel! Where are you?” 

“I am . . . oof . . . up here!” 

He followed the sound of her voice, looking about 10 meters up the large tree that shadowed the chook pen. There was a distinct rustle of branches and some leaves fell, as he finally saw her perched up in the tree, balanced on her belly on a branch, reaching down to the next branch with her swinging feet. “What . . . what are you doing up there?” 

Marathel struggled a bit with a grunt, but finally made it down to the next branch. “He put me up here!” she yelled, pointing at Grogu. 

Din was finding it impossible to hide his amusement. “Why?” 

“Because you have taught him no manners!” She began to try to climb down to the next branch and was not succeeding at all. “Oof . . . I told him to stop eating all the eggs . . . I scolded him . . .” Marathel scraped her bare foot on sharp piece of bark. “Ow, ow, damnych! I scolded him, and the next thing I knew, I was up this tree!” 

Din gaped at her, then looked down at Grogu, who grinned cheekily at him, and then back up at Marathel, who was glaring back at him in fury. The laughter burbled up from deep in his gut, from a place that had not been so tickled in such a long time, and he could not help it, he burst into peals of laughter that made his sides hurt. He held his sides, bent over, trying to get control of himself, but he looked back up at Marathel standing so haughtily in that tree, and then she stamped her foot, shouting, “It is NOT funny!” The sight of her stamping her foot set him off again, and tears were rolling down his face at how ridiculous she looked. She clumsily scrambled down to the next branch, and then yelled down to him, “Are you going to help me down or not?” 

Din could barely catch his breath. “You . . . look like you’re doing just fine on your own!” 

Marathel struggled down from branch to branch, cursing at Din in her old language and muttering. “Just as bad as Grogu, you are . . . just like a child! You aren’t doing that boy any favors . . . putting me up a tree . . .” and then her gown caught on a twig and tore a large rip in the back of the skirt, effectively shutting Din up instantly. Marathel gasped in horror, twisting to see the back of her dress, crying out “Oh, damnych and double damnych!” She was close to the bottom of the tree now, so she set herself hanging from the lowest branch she could by her hands. Din went to her, putting up his hands to catch her as she came down. Unfortunately, his hands were on her smock over her waist, and the smock slid up against her dress as she slid down, and his hands ended up bracketing her breasts and holding them high against her chest, accidentally -- mostly. Marathel gasped in outrage and shoved Din as hard as she could. “Why, you . . .” She stomped away from him, spitting over her shoulder, “Y mallawer perlys, on chydich mown dynion!” 

Din chuckled quietly. “What does that mean?” 

Marathel grabbed the basket. “It means, ‘there is much virtue in herbs, but little in men!’” You’re not wrong there, thought Din. She swept a chook out of the way with her foot, sending it fluttering away, Grogu giving chase. She grabbed two eggs out of a nest with too much force, smashing the shells. Disgusted, she threw the broken eggs on the ground, snapping, “Now look what you made me do!” 

Din tilted his helmet. “Why are you so mad?” 

“I am NOT mad!” This, of course, was a lie, and Marathel grabbed another egg, this time throwing it into her basket with enough force to annihilate both it and two more eggs in the basket. She grunted in rage and picked up some more eggs.  

Din shifted his weight to one hip, crossing his arms over his cuirass. “You know, for someone who’s not mad, you’re sure making one hell of a mess out of those eggshells.”  

Marathel glared at him, and chucked an egg right at his head, where it exploded on his visor. Din fell about laughing again, wiping the egg mess off his helmet. “Whoo! Look out, Empire, we have a Stormtrooper who can actually hit something!” 

“Oh, shut up!”  Marathel stomped off through the gate of the pen, slammed it shut behind her, and began marching down the lane back to her hut. 

“Seriously, they could use someone like you!” Din shouted at her back. She whirled around, throwing another egg, which he tried to catch against his hip in his hands as it smashed into mush. “That’s what I’m talking about, lady!” he said, laughing even harder. 

“RHAFF CODIEH!” Marathel screeched over her shoulder. 

“And what does that mean?” 

“It means PISS UP A ROPE!”  

Marathel continued to march away so fast she was kicking up clouds of dirt at her ankles, her torn skirt swaying with each step, arms pumping at her sides. Din continued to laugh until he was certain she was out of earshot. He stood there, hands on hips, chuckling. “Ahhhh . . . Haar’chak.” He looked down at Grogu, who was covered in feathers and holding another egg, completely nonplussed by all the activity around him.  Grogu looked back at Din, grinning. Then he ate the egg. With a sigh, Din picked up the little green morsel, brushing the feathers from his tiny robes. “I think we’re in trouble, kiddo.” 

You Were Marked: Next Chapter

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars smut #mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin series #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian angst #the mandalorian fluff #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the Mandalorian x you #Mando x reader #Mando x you #Mandalorian angst #Mandalorian fanfic #Mandalorian fanfiction

[burnwater13]

“Where ever I go, he goes.” Sure, people credit that to the Mandalorian, but Grogu said that so many times he couldn’t remember all the circumstances when it had been necessary. But okay. Whatever. 

There were lots of places that Din Djarin didn’t take Grogu with him. The obvious ones like the privy and the ‘fresher. The not so obvious ones like that one storage bay in the Razor Crest. Grogu had no idea what the Mandalorian had there, but Grogu was not allowed to follow him in there under any circumstance at all. Knowing how the Mandalorian felt about privacy and other things, Grogu expected that was place where he stored his vast supply of armor polish. 

The thing that really bugged Grogu about people thinking that the Mandalorian had really said that phrase was all the other times when Din should have had Grogu with him, but nope. He’d charged off on his own. 

Take that time they went after the Jawas on Arvala-7. Sure, Grogu had been following along in his floaty chair when the bounty hunter tried to take over the sand crawler, but he wasn’t with the Mandalorian to help with the Jawas. He could have used the Force to make them fall asleep if his protector had just explained what he was trying to do. He probably could have just stopped the thing like he’d stopped the mudhorn. Nope. He didn’t go with Mando then.

Or the time he and Cara Dune went to stop the Klatooinian raiders on Sorgan. Nope. Grogu wasn’t with him then either. He was in a barn with a bunch of kids who were very frightened. Sure, he tried to keep their spirits up and all that, but he wasn’t with Din Djarin then either. 

Or the time on Tatooine when the Mandalorian went off with that dumb kid… or when he took the job to break someone out of a prison ship… or… well, you get the picture. Din Djarin did not take Grogu everywhere all the time. He just didn’t. 

On the other hand, there were places that his dad brought him that he hadn’t been interested in at all. The ice cube planet… Maldo Kreis. No reason to go there. None at all. It was cold. Filled with spiders. No frogs what so ever. It was not nice. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

Trask wasn’t great either. Grogu had already seen enough of the water the planet had to offer when Din crashed… eh… hand landed… uh whatever’d the Razor Crest. He certainly hadn’t volunteered to go fishing. He hadn’t known what a mamacore was, but it didn’t sound quite right. Grogu would have been happy to have just gone to a tavern and had a couple bowls of bone broth. He’d had all the frog eggs he’d cared to eat by then anyway.

Corvus was even worse. Smokey, burnt out, noisy… well… that was really his fault. Apparently the Mandalorian was finding his role as protector and adopted dad pretty tricky and was trying to give Grogu away to some Jedi he’d heard about. Grogu supposed that he could have left those eggs alone. He hadn’t really considered that the Mandalorian would want to abandon him over something like that, but everyone has their limit and eating delicious food too often appeared to be a line Grogu had crossed with the bounty hunter. 

Fortunately the Jedi they met rejected him and Grogu was pretty happy about that. He’d remembered Ahsoka, even if she hadn’t remembered him. They’d just bring out the worst in each other like they did at the Jedi Temple. She’d see his floating chair and assume he was Master Yoda and tell him things that he had no business knowing. He was just trying to stay away from the librarian and her pinchy fingers. Then Ahsoka would realize that she wasn’t talking to Master Yoda and get all snippy with Grogu because she made a mistake. She needed to learn to tell her sky guys apart from each other. 

Then there was that time on Tython. Uff. Tython. Grogu liked the flying there part. He even liked the whole ‘seeing stone’ thing. But why did Din Djarin think it was safe to just leave him on that stupid rock? Couldn’t he wait just five minutes? No. He’s a Mandalorian. He has to be brave and go wandering around and find trouble. After all the times Grogu had to wait for Din to get out of the privy, Din couldn’t just let him meditate to find another Jedi without getting bored? Grogu certainly didn’t go wherever his dad went that time.

So a piece of advice. When people say a thing, before you believe it, ask for receipts. Quiz them. Make sure they really know what they’re talking about. Don’t take it all at face value. Otherwise, you’re going to find yourself at Luke’s Jedi Sleep Away Camp before you know it. And you won’t be there with your dad, no matter what he said to that gangster at Carnita Arena. 

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #wherever I go he goes

[htonl-writes]

Notes on The Mandalorian Chapter 11: The Heiress

we are just zooming through these episodes! another one done already!

Everyone’s asleep as they come up on Trask

Din doesn’t bother to call flight control before starting his incredibly risky landing???

The Razor Crest is on fire! How’s everything in the hold doing?

Condensation dripping from the windshield

What lever is that, that Din gave the frog lady?

Love this dockworker. Private ship actively crashing? Stand right by the landing point and stare disapprovingly

The poor Crest is actively losing pieces

It’s an engine explosion that sends them into the water

Seaweed EVERYWHERE

Ms Frog Lady standing here like a tourist

Grogu’s pram survived? Where is it stored that it looks so good, after what the Crest has been through?

If Trask is the only planet that can support the frog species, you’d think there’d be more of them around

Grogu’s hungry AGAIN

Eyo it’s Koska!

Why does the soup dispense from a tube in the ceiling

When Din goes to sit down Grogu is already at the table??

Was that a lot of flan? It was only 3 coins

Grogu says “patu” again - I didn’t realize it was recurring

That server is totally getting paid to direct Din to those guys

Live creature in the soup? Don’t play with your food!

The thing that almost eats them is a “mamacore”

Grogu closes his pram himself

Din used his jetpack underwater

Bo-katan calls Din “brother”

Koska + Bo-katan’s helmets are designed differently from the dude’s

The pram is crushed like a can - those seals are monstrous

Uuuugh I hate this scene

Insert my rant about how Bo-katan is an unreliable narrator

They blow up the ship before they leave

Din’s accepting them as Mandalorians already? That was fast

Imperial Gozanti freighter

They’re chilling on top of the Razor Crest

Grogu’s gonna miss all the action and Emotions...

“Mind your manners - you know what I’m talking about” Din you did not even once successfully get Grogu to stop eating eggs

This freighter’s been greebled

I hate the boob armor so much

Oooo they’re gonna get in troooubllle

JFC fanatical much

“Are you sure you won’t join us?” you haven’t even asked before this and you’ve been being an asshole

Only one baby frog in the bowl?

It sure hatched and grew fast

Din paid a thousand credits for this...

The poor Razor Crest still barely flies

Din: catches a dangerous creature in midair

Grogu: giggles

#grogu and the beroya #episode notes #you can see the very moment i said 'frog alien reproduction seems worth exploring' #grogu's adventures in acquiring a buir

[sizeable-star-wars]

And baby yoda tries to eat unfertilized lizard eggs. He's such a little monster Mando you got to stop leaving him alone

(Those are fertile eggs! He is eating unborn children and committing genocide while he does it! Grogu must be stopped!)

[padawansuggest]

The fact that Obi-Wan canonly makes buddies with kryat dragons and dinosaurs is just too precious. I bet that as a padawan he would sneak tookas into his rooms only for them to try and eat one of Qui-Gon’s plants and get banished to the pet friendly gardens and next week he’s trying to sneak home a nexus cub in his robes (‘no master this isn’t a cub!!!! I’m pregnant that’s why I’m fat stop pointing it out!!!’) or running around rural markets and letting the monkey lizards out of their cages and tbh??? I bet that sometimes he just comes back to the temple with eggs. Not for breakfast (he’ll fight Yoda or Grogu if they don’t stop lookin at his egg babies like that) but ones he can hatch. He steals Qui-Gon’s expensive plant lights and builds the kiddos a nest and hatches out the WEIRDEST shit ever.

consider: AU where Grogu’s egg was one of those finds and now Grogu thinks Obi is his dad cause no one’s seen an egg for his species since Yoda was a kid and everyone one week ago was all ‘PADAWAN KENOBI STOP BRINGING HOME DANGEROUS EGGS TO HATCH THE LAST ONE TRIED TO EAT MASTER YODA’ and now they’re all ‘Padawan Kenobi. You may keep bringing home eggs. But. Where the fuck did you even find this one???’ So they’re okay with it now, but this is big. This is even bigger than last year (the REASON they freak out when he brings home a new egg) when he was all ‘it’ll be fine’ and then Boga was born and she follows Obi cause that’s her mama but she’s growing and one day she’s gonna be the size of a car and they’re all nervous about that day.

Grogu gets spoiled with raw foods, belly rubs, belly kisses, and riding around on Boga’s back with a lil baby harness. Which is okay, till Boga decides she wants to try climbing walls and the baby Gets A Frighten.

Imagine Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon not being sent to Mandalore because Grogu is 3 and teething and bites everyone and refuses to be good for anyone but daddy and grandpa and Boga tried to eat Neti Jedi Master T’ra Saa when she was making leaves one week and so they need to teach both babies manners and he’s got a million pathetic small creatures clambering all over him whenever he enters any of the gardens and then he starts having visions.

See. 19 yo Obi hasn’t had visions like this in a while. About 3 years in fact. He had a lot of visions of sand a few years ago but he just figured maybe Grogu was meant to end up on a sandy planet one day (maybe, cause Din WILL be his main caregiver later, but the empire doesn’t happen in this AU, but Din is just gonna be one of the many pathetic lifeforms Obi comes home with one day) and played it off to focus on his new baby.

But now the visions won’t stop, and Qui is getting all harumphy over his lack of concentration, so Qui gathers up Obi, Grogu, Boga, and a particularly clingy tooka that’s decided Obi is her mom, into a ship and plays a galaxy wide game of hot and cold with his kiddo to figure out who they’re looking for.

They find 4yo Anakin, recently won in a bet with his mother, and free them both. They bring them both back to the temple, and Ani is young enough to happily be accepted into the creche, and the council doesn’t even attempt to disuade Obi from moving Shmi into the temple. She’s so confused and spends a lot of time petting cats while Ani is in classes. But she likes it here. It’s nice. A lizard gives her kisses. And a weird little mutant frog thing.

Anyways. Thanks.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #Boga #grogu

[thewriterowl]

Luke Headcanon Time 💜

Sleeping, Bedtime, and Wake-Up

Luke sleeps on his side, in a fetal position, with his head under a pillow or face under the covers and a little fluff of blond cow-lick peeking up over the edge. He is probably pressed up against his partner, if he has one, but maybe not hugging them...just curled up against them for warmth. As if he doesn’t want to bother them.

Luke is probably hugged tightly, or at least touched, by his partner(s). Din normally sleeps on his back with pulling Luke up against him. Boba just has his limbs thrown over Luke...or pretty much squishing him.

His partners demand they get to hold him (or squish him) in retaliation because Luke loves sleeping in the cold. He’ll have his room freezing so he can curl up in his quilts. His lovers don’t really care for the cold but know it helps him sleep better...so they get to cuddle him all night.

If he has one, Luke would sleep with a stuffed animal. He needs something like that to help with his nightmares. It is comforting to him. He probably sucks or chews on an ear when he’s under the covers to try and soothe himself to go to sleep because he is full of anxiety and can’t stop thinking otherwise.

Luke is a man who loves to love and loves to showcase his affection. He also wakes up ridiculously early (neither of his Mandalorian lovers are fond of this and will try to tempt him to stay in bed but Luke normally can stay no later than 5:30--Boba calls him a freak of nature, Din is just groaning into the pillow, muttering nonsense in his sleepy state) so he’ll provide breakfast in bed. He’ll have caf and some fruit (some milk or juice for himself--maybe hot chocolate if its winter) and will come back and snuggle for a bit as his sleepy Mandalorian(s) try to wake up.

Luke will brush Din’s curly hair to the side, trying to get the bed-head tamed, as Din barely functions in getting the caf in his system. Afterwards, Din probably puts the caf and bowl to the side, then throws his arm back over Luke and pins him down into the mattress, and cuddles up to sleep some more (after marrying Luke, the man who always needed a nap will enjoy his sleep, thank you).

100% believe if Din wasn’t a single dad trying to make a living, he’d be sleeping a lot. I see the man loving sleep. And once he marries Luke and Grogu is safe and taken care of and he doesn’t have to do anything but be their protector, he’s zonked. he wants to go to bed at 8 and then wake up at 11 the next day (holding his family)...of course he’d be cursed falling in love with farm-boy Luke.

Boba would just be “fuck the sun” and go back to sleep as he yanks Luke to him.

Luke is one of those people: milk, a small bowl of honey and oats, some cut up fruit and maybe one egg for breakfast after he has done a run, then he does a morning yoga routine and meditation...despite how little he eats, he appears to be overly healthy.

Over his caf, Din is just, “Baby, please have some meat and sleep past six once.”

At night, Luke is a bit the same. But he does have an indulgent there with maybe some sweetened drink after his meditation and bath. 

He takes quick showers. But if his partner draws him a bath, he does stay in there far longer (nearly passing out). That heat and sloshing of water really soothes his anxious thoughts well, like the stuffed animal. His partner is able to corral him into bed a lot easier with the use of a hot bath followed by a cold drink of milk and then to suck on some ice. Luke can melt and actually, maybe, start to drift off without much of a battle.

Just cute Luke in his pajamas, curled up under the blanket, holding a stuffed animal for comfort, snuggled up next to his partner makes me happy.

#luke skywalker #star wars #the mandalorian #dinluke #bobaluke #bobalukedin #luke headcanons

[grogu-pascal]

Yearn | Din Djarin/Reader

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN // ALL WORKS

Excerpt: Din was a quiet man back then, emerging from one hideaway on the ship only to quickly scurry along to another. You had cut him slack for his awkwardness, chalking it up to his unfamiliarity with you. Now you knew it was because he felt like a pervert.

Mature  | 1.7k Words |  Din Djarin x Reader

Tags: cultmember!din, heavy yearning from din, unhealthy relationships, wet dreams, masturbation, teasing, fantasizing, domestic fluff, daddy kink but not in that way, breeding kink, possible cannibalism from grogu; only time will tell, not beta’d

When you first began working on the Crest, you were responsible for waking Grogu in the mornings. If undisturbed, the child would sleep until mid-day, a bad habit not easily corrected once learned. If Din woke from his rest to find you still in bed, he would simply wake the child as you slept. Rather than admit he was being easy on you because he liked you, he convinced himself that you weren't slacking off, just having a hard time adjusting to your new surroundings.

Din was a quiet man back then, emerging from one hideaway on the ship only to quickly scurry along to another. You had cut him slack for his awkwardness, chalking it up to his unfamiliarity with you.

(Now you knew it was because he felt like a pervert).

It lasted for a while, the cat-and-mouse between you. But rounding your second month working for him, it began to offend you. He rarely spoke; never addressing you by name and almost never directing his gaze towards you. When you pieced together that his reactions stemmed from nervousness, you suddenly found the way he fumbled over his words amusing. Almost enjoyed the way he shifted in his seat when you got too close. (And his buttons were easy enough to press: even the slightest brush against him could spur a coughing fit).

Din, however, had not felt the same way. The way he fell apart around you embarrassed him. In his mind, his actions around you were transparent. He was constantly worried that somehow you would find out about all of the filthy thoughts that plagued his mind. They were unprofessional at the least, and disrespectful at the most forgiving.

He could hardly help himself. Every attempt at self-restraint was met with a bigger hurdle to cross. There was something so erotic about watching you flitter about his ship, taking care of his child, and bandaging his wounds. You had never been inappropriate with him and maybe that was worse. For if you had been trying to seduce him, at least he could explain away his constant desire for you. The trurh was that you had never done or said anything to him unrelated to your job description. And so he was left carrying the burden of self-pity.

He found brief success in mind-over-matter tactics: pushing back his impure thoughts when they arose. If they confronted him still, he would simply leave your presence until they subsided. But this was not permanent. After a while, he found that even when he was alone, images of you plagued his mind. Your legs spread on his bed. You, bent over the kitchen counter. Your lips begging his name, over and over.

For weeks after first welcoming you onto the Crest, Din resisted the urge to palm himself in the 'fresher. It became a routine for him: lathering and rinsing slowly, fighting the urge to bury his cock in the crook of his hand, imagining that his fist was your warmth instead. Beyond the obvious disrespect wrought in masturbating to his hired help, to become so weak at the thought of another did not adhere to his creed. Besides the thoughts he had of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, he also found himself... yearning. He daydreamed of holding you closely. Running his fingers through the silk of your hair. Feeling your lips tickle against his stubble. It had become a distraction. He knew he had to stop feeding his mind with possibilities of you two.

With this in mind, the mandalorian took no conscious action to relieve himself at your expense.

But it happened more than once that he woke with come-stained sheets from rutting against his bed in his sleep. The adjacent dreams threw him deeper into his pit of shame. The first time it happened, he carried his sheets to the refresher in the dead of night, urgently washing away any evidence that he had spilled seed. You woke up confused to find him cleaning laundry. When you asked what he was doing, he doubled over, thankful that his back was to you. He muttered a strained, "nothing" and a "go back to bed," and you were dismissed.

For you to have so nearly seen his spend made his cock ache into the night.

Hunger as intense as he felt for you could only serve as an interference to his duties. He could not serve both his desires, and The Way. And he had already made a promise to his tribe. Any such arrangement with you could only serve as a derailment of that. So he tried to rationalize his desires away: too much of a distraction, too big of a conflict of interest, too... uninterested in him. Those three things were enough for him to keep away for you. Until the third proved untrue.

Din had a day off, having caught the bounty earlier than expected. He decided to spend it with you. Or as close as he could get to you without feeling feverish and lustful.

Which, of course, meant secluding himself in his bedroom.

He had kept to himself most of the day, declining your invitation to breakfast as you nervously backtracked—you hadn't meant to walk in on him in a state of undress. He was helmetless and out of respect (and a healthy helping of fear), your eyes darted down instead, eyes widening at his bulge in the pants hung loosely from his hips.

He wore no shirt, body taut and littered with scars. A fresh wound bared your bandage, and you remembered biting your lips as you worked, tempted to take a look at the skin underneath your bare palms.

You fumbled for words in the doorway of his quarters, cheeks hot and heartbeat skipping. You were eager to explain away your invitation and in no way equipped to do so in your current state. Of course he can't join you for breakfast, you dummy, you had thought. How the fuck is he supposed to eat with his bucket on?

"I didn't mean like... in front of me," you stuttered, eyes scurrying to look anywhere but the front of his pants. "Just like—” you started again. It felt like your throat was closing. "I-I can bring it in if you want."

He did not respond.

Eager to fill the silence, you continued, "I made bantha-butter pancakes and those little eggs. Y'know," you gestured, "the frog ones? That Grogu likes?"

"I'll get some after," he offered. Something electric climbed down your bones at the sound. His voice was like heaven without the modulator, all rich and dark and velvety. You considered staying in his doorway longer; spouting nonsense just to hear him speak again. Instead you nodded and turned to leave. For the first time, he had been the calm one, and you, the erratic fluster of energy.

"Thank you," he added as you crossed the threshold of the door. You didn't reply. Your mouth was too full with embarrassment. You simply turned to close the door behind you.

You spent the rest of that morning replaying his voice over and over and over again. If only you had known how sweet your own voice had been to hear without hyper-filtering.

A short while later, Din made his way down to grab breakfast, but stopped short of entering the kitchen. Your voice echoed out of the door, intermingled with the child's coos. He paused there a beat too long in an effort to make out what you were saying. He hadn't set out with the intention to pry on your conversation, but had quickly shifted course, wanting to relish in the moment between you and the child.

Din turned off the vocoder in his helmet, fiddling with the controls within to turn up voice perception. He was positioned around the corner in such a way that he could see you just over your back: Grogu was scooped into your lap as you two sat cross-legged on the floor. Between sentences, you scooped a mouthful of eggs into the child's mouth, excess collecting at the frame of his lips before you gathered it back on the spoon to feed him again.

Mando had voiced his disdain for the way you spoiled the child so: and feeding him and carrying him about the Crest. Of course you knew it wasn't wise to baby the child, but your heart ached for him. You were alone once, too. Abject from touch and affection. You understood how that could affect a child.

So in a not-so-shocking move, you ignored Mando's directions and lavished Grogu with praise and hugs and kisses anyways. And the weird green toad-baby made sure to return his own affections, babbling at you lovingly and showing off force-tricks.

Your voice carried out of the kitchen, hushed and warm as you continued your conversation. Din watched as you raised a spoonful of food to the child’s lips, "maybe your daddy will take us to get some fruit today, hmm?" you said.

At that, Din felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Heat rushed from his bucket to his member, pants tightening nearly instantly. His breathing stuttered as his fingers gripped at the metal of the ship, pressing his back against it to steady his balance.

"Would you like that?" you mused to the child, unaware of the mandalorian's presence outside of the door. Din struggled to hear you in this new position, so he turned the volume up once more. “If he's still resting,” he heard you say, “Mommy can just take you."

A groan rumbled in his chest. He thanked the stars that he had muted his vocoder. Shame temporarily forgotten, his hand flew to his cock, palming gently with closed eyes as his mind raced. Unfiltered desire shot straight through him at the thought of making you a mother for real. You always took such good care of Grogu, busying yourself with developmental activities and schooling and Din could keep you even busier. 

His thoughts begun to color with greed. He could fuck a litter into you, start a clan. Fuck you into his bed and never let you leave the Crest. Make you yearn for him as badly as he had been yearning for you. First he'd need permission from the—

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts and his hand ripped from his trousers. His posture shot up straight, fueled by the adrenaline that suddenly courses through him. He scurried away hastefully, retreating to his quarters. What would you have thought if you caught him snooping? How would he have ever convinced you to be with him then?

Thanks for reading! This will be a multi-chapter fic. Respond to this post or send an ask to have me put you on a tag list or follow the story on my ao3.

#tommywrites

[theewokingdead]

Haa'it

Chapter 2 of of “Another Way”

{Chapter List} 

Haa'it - [hah-EET] - Vision 

Summary: Following the events on Moff Gideon's cruiser, Din considers a proposal that leaves you hurt and angry. Will you two be able to reconcile?

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ ONLY.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: Language, angst, sad Din, smut, shower sex, female masturbation, unprotected sex

“You better inform the princess that she should’ve brought a freighter if she intends to take anything more.”

A small half smile is all you give to Boba in response. The two of you are standing side by side at the bottom of the Lambda shuttle that Bo-Katan and Koska intend to use to fly out of Moff Gideon’s ship. You had just finished helping to load it with spoils she wanted to take with her, weapons and such, likely to aid her in her endeavor to return to Mandalore. Cara had already taken Gideon inside, intending to surrender him to the New Republic in exchange for a lucrative bounty.

“Tell him we’re headed to Tatooine if he’s coming with us. Help him make up his mind.”

You nod. “Just give me some time.”

“We haven’t got all day, little one,” Boba scoffs as he walks off toward his ship.

Pursing your lips, you turn and look around the hangar, looking at the emptiness of the large room, save a few empty TIE Fighters. Across the room, you see a figure sitting on the floor, back against the wall. Din. He is still helmetless, as he has been ever since the Jedi came for the kid.

The kid…

He has only been gone for a couple hours but you’re already missing the little green guy. Fiercely. His sweet little mouth and those large ears. How he’d snuggle up in your arms when he was tired. All his antics, like the time he wouldn’t stop eating that poor frog lady’s eggs or how he wouldn’t stop removing the knob on the ship’s lever. You find yourself hoping that there would be an endless number of frogs to keep him satisfied wherever the Jedi was taking him. A growing boy has to eat, after all.

As much as it pains you to think about him, you know it must be killing Din. His silence made it clear. Beyond exchanging a few words with Bo-Katan, who tried to sway him to discuss options regarding retaking Mandalore, he didn’t say much of anything to anyone, not even to you.

But the silence needed to be broken. It was time to come to some sort of decision. There were two ships leaving the light cruiser: one flown by Bo-Katan, who would be taking Cara to meet with the New Republic and hand of Moff Gideon. She made it clear that she was eager to move forward with her plans with Mandalore, preferably with Din’s help since he now wielded the Darksaber. The other ship, of course, belongs to Boba, who plans to travel to Tatooine for Maker knows what reason, but could likely taxi you wherever you and Din want to go.

Honestly, you have no idea what’s going to happen next, what you are going to do or even where you are going to go. Wherever Din wants to go, you suppose. As far as you know, you are out of a job. The child is gone, the ship is gone. You have no one and nothing to take care of anymore beyond Din. He loves you, that he made clear about two weeks earlier, after the first time you consummated your relationship. He reminded you numerous times in the days after, but ever since Tython, when Gideon’s Dark Troopers kidnapped Grogu, your relationship has been put on the back burner. But wherever he goes, you will go.

You take a deep breath, exhaling as you take a step and cautiously carry yourself over to where Din is sitting. You fidget with your fingers as you walk. Your mind is swirling, trying to formulate something to say. Anything. Where do you even begin?

“Din?” Your voice is soft and gentle. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch at the sound of someone speaking to him. He is holding something in his fist, something you can barely make out. A small, silver sphere. His eyes are fixated on it as it rolls it around in one hand. After a second, you realize what he’s holding.

“Is that…?” you start to question. Din doesn’t break his gaze from the ball as he opens his fist, letting you get a better view of the knob that the kid was always so obsessed with. You watch as he caresses it with his thumb.

It hits you that it’s all he has left, not just of Grogu but of the Razor Crest as well. In a matter of days, Din has lost nearly everything. His ship, his kid, his Creed. The only things left are the weapons and armor on his body. And you, of course. You can only begin to imagine what’s going through his mind.

Slowly, you drop to your knees beside him. Gently, you place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure him. “The kid’s strong.”

He still doesn’t respond.

“Are you okay?”

Din carefully places the ball in his pocket, picks up his gloves sitting beside him, and rises to his feet, letting your hand fall off him as he stands. “I’ll be fine,” he says gruffly as he puts a glove back on his hand. As he stands there, his body is slouched, shoulders slumped. He’s not carrying himself as he usually does.

You stand. “Are you sure?  Because you don’t seem like someone who’s fine.”

“Yes.” You watch as he puts on his second glove, him acting as though he’s ignoring you.

“Din. Talk to me. Please.”

“What do you expect me to say?” he asks, picking up his Beskar spear and sliding it on his back.

“Whatever’s on your mind.”

“Nothing is on my mind,” he responds evenly as he picks up his helmet.

“Bantha shit!” you exclaim, causing him to stop before he can put his helmet on. “You’re going to tell me that the kid isn’t on your mind? Or the fact that you removed your helmet for someone other than me? Or, I don’t know, that thing?” You gesture to the Darksaber hanging from his belt.

“Dank Farrik. I don’t have time for this right now.” His voice sounds annoyed. “What do you want me to tell you?”

You try to be firm, wanting an answer. “Tell me what you’re going to do. Boba and Bo-Katan are both waiting. Where are you going to go? You have to decide now.”

No response. His jaw is clenched.

“Din,” you reach out and grab his wrist. “At least look at me.”

Finally, Din turns and looks at you. The first thing you notice is his eyes, droopy, wet, and bloodshot. The corners of his lips are just slightly pulled down, but it’s obvious enough that he’s grief-stricken. “What should I do?”

You soften again as you release your grip on his wrist. You fold your arms and hug them against your chest. “I-I don’t know.”

“No, I didn’t think you would.” He sighs as he looks down at the helmet in his hands, as if considering whether to put it on or not. He drops his arm, helmet in hand, to his side for now.

Your mind is racing, searching for something to say. An idea. A resolution. Anything. “Run away with me,” you finally blurt out. The sentence surprises you as much as it does him.

Din looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Run away with me,” you repeat, trying to sound surer of yourself this time. “Let Bo-Katan believe you to be dead. Leave the Darksaber somewhere for her to find. Let her rule the Mandalorians. Then we can go anywhere. Naboo. Sorgan. Takodana. Fuck, we can go to Malachor for all I care.” You take a step toward him, focused solely on him. “We can start new lives. Be whoever we want to be. It doesn’t matter to me as long as we’re together.”

The look on Din’s face makes it seem as though he’s considering it, if only for a moment. He sighs before looking down. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It could be,” you assure him, laying a hand on his arm. “Our lives could be so simple from here on out.”

“No,” he responds curtly, ignoring the hand on him. He has finally decided to put on his helmet, placing it carefully on his head. His modulated voice returns. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

“Then fight Bo-Katan and let her win the Darksaber fair and square,” you suggest. “Don’t hold back and pray she can disarm you before she kills you.”

“And if I win?” Din questions.

“Then maybe you’re meant to rule Mandalore after all,” you reply sharply. “Just because she wants it more doesn’t mean she deserves it more. You are more than deserving.”

“I won’t fight her,” Din declares.

You throw your arms up in the air. “Maker, Din. What do you propose then?” you demand angrily.

Din takes a deep breath as he turns away and puts his hands on his hips. He’s silent for a moment, his head low. “What if there’s another way for Bo-Katan to get what she wants? What if she could rule with me?”

You’re confused. You have an idea of what he could be saying, but maybe you’re misinterpreting. “What do you mean?” He doesn’t immediately respond. “Like as your advisor? Because that makes sense.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Then what are you saying?” you question. “Din? What are you saying?”

Slowly, Din turns and looks at you. “I’m saying that I could marry her.”

You furrow your brows and cock your head. Did you hear him correctly? “Marry her?” you scoff. You nearly laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“How do you not think it is?”

“She wants the power but doesn’t have the Darksaber. I have the Darksaber but don’t want to power. I could be the face that everyone follows, but she would be the one calling all the shots.”

“I get that. I support that. One hundred percent. The thing that makes zero fucking sense is the marriage part, Din. I mean, let me get this straight,” you say, trying to piece everything together. You gently massage your temples before continuing. “You have a weapon that she needs in order to unite the Mandalorians. You want nothing to do with the saber. She, however, wants the saber but cannot, in good conscience, just take it from you because she has to win it in battle. You won’t fight her. So you’re solution is to…what? Marry someone you barely even know in hopes that people will listen to and follow the woman married to the guy with the Darksaber? Because obviously that’s the option that makes the most sense. Much more sense than just offering her a position of power. I mean, are you planning to repopulate the whole damn planet yourself or something?”

“She wants the throne,” he says simply. “Marriage can give her the throne.”

“And when exactly did she say that?” you ask. “She said she wants to seat a new Mandalorian on the throne. Never once did she say that Mandalorian was her. Perhaps she doesn’t want to rule. Maybe she just wants to reunite her people and see them living on the planet where she was born. Do you even know her well enough to know what exactly she wants?”

“She claims her sister was Duchess.”

“Okay, and? I know I’m not the one who should be educating you about Mandalore and its history, but it sounds like the throne is non-hereditary. Blood doesn’t matter. What matters is who the people seem worthy. Am I not right?”

Silence.

“If the people deem you worthy, which yeah, you’re more than worthy, then it doesn’t matter what Bo-Katan thinks,” you continue. “If you’re just trying to get in her good graces and want her support, fuck, Din, you don’t jump straight to marriage. Offer her the highest role on your council, whatever that may be. But your wife?” You laugh angrily, seeming almost crazy. “Fuck, Din, if you so badly don’t want the weapon, don’t want to rule, there are options here,” you say. “Fight her. Let her win the Darksaber. Support her and her story. It’s an easy solution. I don’t understand why you’re so adamantly against it. Or maybe… Maybe just suck it up and accept that you can rule. Or, hey, here’s an idea, don’t make any rash decisions before even knowing if anyone can reunite the people and if the planet is inhabitable. Fucking Malachor, Din, if you didn’t just have your helmet off, I would think you’re all metal and no brains.”

“Look, it’s just an option I was weighing, okay?” he replies angrily, his shoulders straightened, coming to full height. “You asked what’s on my mind, I told you what’s on my mind. It’s not my fault you don’t like the answer.”

You are stunned as you take a step back. “Are you too oblivious to even understand why I’m upset?” you question, your voice cracking as you speak. “Why I can’t stand the thought of you even considering marrying another person? Even if it’s just a marriage of convenience?”

You give him a moment to respond, but he doesn’t say anything. You quickly flick away a tear falling from your eye, hoping he doesn’t notice you holding back tears. Your throat is burning, your chest tight as your heart pounds against it. “Where am I in the grand scheme of things? Huh? Am I to return home, to Tatooine, and pretend as though nothing ever happened between the two of us? That that night after Sorgan didn’t even happen? Because if not, that means you expect me to follow you to Mandalore with her as your wife.” You take a step close to him and stare intensely into the “T” of his helmet, your eyes narrow, shooting daggers at him. “I will not follow you just to be your whore.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you turn to walk away. Din calls your name, trying to stop you. “Wait,” he says as he grabs your arm. You whip around and raise your arm as if to slap him, but he’s too quick. He grabs it to stop you.

You immediately tear your arms away from him. “Go fuck yourself.” You turn and walk away. As you march toward the ramp of Slave I, you feel tears as they fall from your eyes. You quickly wipe them away, not daring to shed anything more for someone who could be so damn stupid.

You watch from the window of the ship as Din staggers across the hanger. To your dismay, he heads in the direction of Bo-Katan’s borrowed Lambda shuttle. Externally, you try to contain your composure in case Boba or Fennec enters the room. Internally, you crumble to pieces.

A small part of you hopes Din will choose to come along, that maybe you had talked some sense into him. For someone who was intelligent enough to hunt down some of the galaxy’s most dangerous targets, someone who could know what a target was going to do before the target even knew, he sure is terrible at using his brain when it comes to social situations. Or maybe he just doesn’t understand women, you don’t know.

What was he thinking? He couldn’t have meant any of it…could he? No, he couldn’t have. He obviously must be confused. Lost. Tired. The last few weeks, ever since you both had first met Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians, had been such a whirlwind. You know he’s doubting his Creed, his loyalty to a group that brainwashed him. You know his entire world has been shifted. Now his future is uncertain. You desperately want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After sitting in silence for several minutes, you hear someone walking up the ramp and moving towards the room, causing your heart to leap. To your disappointment, it’s only Fennec. She takes a seat but doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t even ask about Din. Had she seen you two arguing? Had she heard?

No, she just didn’t care, likely. It’s not like Din was expected and he had already boarded the Lambda shuttled, it seemed. He had no reason to travel with you or even them anymore but had all the reasons to go with Bo-Katan. Whether he liked it or not, he was the new owner of the much coveted Darksaber, and therefore had a legitimate claim to the throne. Don’t get your hopes up.

Moments later, you hear another pair of footsteps. This time you don’t look up to watch whoever it is enter the room. Your heart can’t take it. Your body is slumped in your chair, arms square against your chest, eyes on the floor. You watch as a familiar pair of boots walk past you and take a seat across the cabin. You look up and see Din. He doesn’t look in your direction and you quickly look away before he can feel your gaze. You had no reason to speak with him, and you especially don’t want to do it with others within earshot.

“Ready for takeoff,” Boba’s voice comes from the com system.

Fennec reaches for the com to respond. “Copy. Ready.”

You fold your arms across your chest and look out the window, watching and listening as Boba fires the ship. The gyro system the deck is situation on begins to shift as the ship lifts from the ground. You know it’ll be at least a couple hours before you land. The lull of entering space makes your eyelids feel heavy, heavier than you’ve ever felt them before. You don’t even fight the urge to sleep, choosing it over the awkward silence of sitting in such a confined space with Din and Fennec. Maybe rest would help you think more clearly. As you drift off you sleep, you hope the same for Din.

You stir at the sound of familiar voices whispering nearby. Your eyes slowly open and you blink several times, trying to recognize your surroundings. You remember falling asleep as Slave I flew away from Moff Gideon’s ship, Fennec and Din sitting in the cabin with you. Now, it seems Boba, at some point, had come from the cockpit, allowing the ship to hurdle itself through space. The three are standing together, murmuring – whether in secrecy or trying not to wake you, you don’t know. How long have you been out of it? A few minutes? An hour? You’re unsure.

“Glad you could join us, little one,” you hear Boba’s voice say as he notices you stirring.

“How-how long have I been asleep?” you question, fixing your slumped posture.

“The entire trip,” Fennec responds, smirking. “We’re nearly there.”

“What? You should’ve woken me sooner.”

“Din says you haven’t slept much since Tython,” Fennec says, nodding in his direction. You look at him, but he’s staring down and away, hands on his hips, obviously avoiding your gaze. “And there was no reason to disturb you. To be honest, I could’ve used more rest, but boys are always about business.”

Tython. Had it really been that long since you last got a decent night’s rest? That was…you lost count of the days.

“I’ll get us out of hyperdrive and prepare for landing,” Boba says as he moves past Fennec, walking toward the ladder that leads to the cockpit.

You wonder what you had missed, but you don’t ask. You don’t want to talk to Din. You don’t know if you ever want to talk to Din again. But where will you go if not with Din? Back home? Back to your job at the hangar in Mos Eisley?

There’s so much uncertainty. You decide that the only thing you can do is take things one step at a time. Land first, figure shit out as you go.

Fortunately, Boba landed somewhere other than Hangar 3-5. You know Peli would ask about the kid and the ship, and one of the last things you want to do right now is recount everything to her. Maker forbid everything between you and Din slips out as well. You know you’ll have to talk to her eventually, probably as you beg for your old job back, but right now is not the time. The wounds are too fresh.

After landing, you quickly disembark the ship without a word. You don’t have a reason to talk to anyone, especially Din. As you exit the hangar, your feet carrying you along the sand of the desert planet, you notice the twin suns are high in the sky, signaling that it’s noontime. You’re hungry, but more than anything you could use a drink to release the tension in your muscles.

Even though it’s hot and arid, you enjoy the air of Tatooine. You find comfort in it. It is home, after all. You walk in between the all too familiar sandstone structures, blending in with the traders and travelers. The incoherent chatter swims in your ears as you make your way through the bustling bazaar, seeing the junked parts of ships and speeders and exposed cooling tubes of rundown shops. You remind yourself that you haven’t bathed or changed clothes in days and that should probably be somewhere high on your priority rest after refueling yourself. For now, you enter cantina at the heart of Mos Eisley.

You walk up to the bar and, before the barman can even ask, politely order a Tatooine Sunset with a touch of desert pear and flatbread. He nods, puts in your food order with the kitchen, and gets to work on your drink. As you stand at the bar, you look around, double-checking that no one has followed you. It’s relatively empty compared to weekend and evening rushes. You welcome it. You don’t want to socialize, but you also don’t want to be completely alone.

After several minutes, the barman sits a cup filled with ice and an orange liquid in front of you. You quietly thank him, then take a sip. The taste is as good as you remember from your last visit, however long ago that was. Unsweetened tea with a hint of several fruits fermented just right. It’s cool and refreshing as it falls down your throat. You exhale and stare down at the drink in your hand. Unable to help it, your mind drifts to Din. Did he have a plan or was he just as lost as you? Why had he decided not to go with Bo-Katan? Had he reconsidered his ridiculous excuse for a plan?

Your mind doesn’t have to wander for long.

Someone is now standing uncomfortably close to you. The bar being nearly empty, you know whoever it is chose to stand next to you on purpose. You don’t look, hoping you can ignore them.

“Jawa Juice,” you hear a familiar modulated voice say to the bartender. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, then look out of the corner of your eyes as you exhale, watching as a pair of gloved hands lay a Beskar helmet on the bar top.

You’re not surprised that he found you, being the expert tracker that he is. You should’ve expected that he would if he wanted to. What you didn’t expect is that he would want to find you.

“Boba thinks he can get me a ship.”

You stare forward and take a sip of your drink, rolling your eyes to yourself. Really? That’s all he has to say? He broke your heart and that’s all he has to say. Fucking asshole.

As much as you want to, you don’t show your anger. There’s no reason to start trouble in the currently calm cantina. “Is that what you were talking about?” you ask simply.

“He and Fennec are headed to Dune Sea,” Din adds lowly. “To Hutt’s Palace.”

You choke on your drink. You are very much aware of famed crime lord Jabba the Hutt, who was killed a few years back. As you catch your breath, you ask, “He what?” You turn and look at him. “Why?”

“He intends on turning it into a sector of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild,” Din responds. “He offered work, should I want it.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing is off the table yet,” Din responds, staring down at the drink in his hands, indicating that he may still be considering options.

“And Bo-Katan?” you simply ask. Under your skin, your pulse is racing. You know they spoke before leaving, but what was said?

Din takes another sip, leaving you in limbo for another moment. “She’s returning to Lothal,” he responds. “Laying low for a bit before we move forward with preparations to take back Mandalore.”

You stare up at him. “We?”

“I have the Darksaber. She has the connections, the knowledge. I have to work with her if she is to meet her goal of reuniting Mandalorians. If Mandalore is livable, as she believes, and I choose to rule, she will back me without objection.” He turns his head to you, and you meet his gaze. “She would lead my council.”

“So what? She rejected your marriage proposal?” you scoff, looking away as you finish off your drink and gesture for a second one.

“It wasn’t brought up for consideration,” Din admits. “You were right. She’s not interested in the throne.”

You purse your lips tightly together. You badly want the satisfaction of saying “I told you so” but instead you choose to remain silent.

Din lays his hand on yours. “That never once should’ve crossed my mind.” You look down at his gloved hand on yours, then up at him and into his eyes, still bloodshot and raw. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I-I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” you say coldly as you remove your hand from under his and look away. You are still upset, but you know it’s not fair to argue with a man who had just lost everything that mattered most to him.

“Dank Farrik,” Din swears under his breath, uttering your name. “Can you please cut me some slack?”

“Why should I?” you snap.

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I learn that what I was taught about the Mandalorians is all wrong, all archaic as fuck, and now I’m expected to relearn their culture, reunite them, and rule them. All while getting dealt shit cards left and right. The last thing-the absolute last fucking thing I need right now is you upset with me.”

You snap around, ready to strangle him, but as you look at him and his exhausted face, you defuse yourself by taking a long, deep breath and slowly exhaling. Amid all your anger and hurt, you had almost forgotten everything he must be going through. Not to mention a man who hadn’t slept much if at all since – when was the last you had slept before your nap earlier? Tython? If you hadn’t slept in that long, he has gone just as long, if not longer. He must be beyond exhausted.

“There’s no use in arguing right now,” you concede.

A minute passes. “I honestly did not mean to hurt you,” Din murmurs. “I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“You should go get some rest,” you say, ignoring him. “Clear your head.”

“Yeah, just let me go back to my ship,” Din quickly responds. “Oh, wait.”

You hang your head low to hide a small smile. Despite everything, he can still find some humor, and so can you. “I meant in a hotel, Din.”

“Will you come with me?” You look up at him, wondering what exactly he means by that. “What I mean is, will you stay with me? Not at a hotel. I mean, you could come to the hotel with me if you have nowhere else to go. We could sleep in separate rooms. But…will you leave with me?” He sighs. It’s obvious he’s flustered, maybe feeling some of his drink. He runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask.” He pounds his fist on the bar and tries once more. “When I have a ship, will you leave Tatooine with me? That’s what I’m trying to get to.”

You chuckle, having never seen Din so confused and flushed before. It’s almost kind of cute on him. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” you say. “But for now, let’s get some rest, okay?”

“Will you stay go to a hotel with me?”

You could very easy return to your parents. There is really no reason for you to stay at a hotel, unless you want to be close to Din. You weigh the option for a moment before responding. “Yes.”

“Separate rooms?”

“Separate rooms.”

Din nods to show he understands. He pays both of your tabs, places his helmet back on, and you both head out of the cantina. You offer the Spaceport Hotel or Mos Eisley Inn since they would provide all that you would need at the cheapest prices, but Din feels you deserve something better than the crumbling inns the lumpy beds they offer. To you, anything would be better than the cramped ships you’ve been sleeping in for months, but the least he could do was provide you with something with a little extra comfort. You don’t argue it.

You both agree to try the Lucky Despot, a large cargo ship that was transformed into a hotel and casino since it was no longer capable of flight. You approach the decommissioned ship, half buried in the rough sands of the planet. You climb the steps to the reception area. You feel at home since you’re inside a ship, but the décor makes it feel warmer and more comfortable. As much as you missed it, it seemed it would offer much more luxury than the Razor Crest.

Din takes care of the rooms while you wait, watching people as they walk and mingle. Once things are settled, you both take a turbolift down to the floor where you will be staying the night. He walks you to your room, where he stops and hands you two keys, one for your room and one you assume to be a spare for his.

“If you need anything…”

You nod and say nothing more before turning to your door and opening it. As the door seals shut behind you, you flip on the light and walk over to the lone bed and flop down onto it. You take off your shoes and toss them across the room, then throw yourself backwards on top of the silky sheets. The mattress is soft like a cloud. You could probably fall asleep in seconds if you closed your eyes. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling, replaying everything in your head. The night in the cockpit after Sorgan, handing Grogu over to the Jedi, Din suggesting he marry Bo-Katan, the cantina.

Will you stay with me? Will you leave Tatooine with me?

To be honest, when he first asked, you were entirely uncertain what your answer would or should be. You once made a promise to Din, and when you had said that you would never leave him, that you would do anything for him, that you loved him, you meant it. But life had pulled a complete one-eighty since then. Din had said you loved you, called you the brightest star in the galaxy, insinuated that he never wanted to leave you, only for him to say he was considering marrying another woman so she could rule at his side.

Deep down, you understand that he didn’t mean any harm by it. He admitted it himself: he doesn’t know what he was doing. He’s lost, trying to come to terms that he was raised by zealots and undoing what he was taught while dealing with the loss of all that he had. You could understand the difficulty of it. Malachor, you were dealing with the loss of Grogu too, and that alone was tearing you up. And you couldn’t fault him for being so socially inept. He was raised by a cult, sheltered from the world during the most vital years of his life.

The fact that he came to find you in the cantina coupled with the fact that he convinced the others to let you rest on the ride to Tatooine, plus him apologizing for hurting you – they all show that he cares.

You inhale deeply as you consider going to talk to Din. To at least tell him that you would leave Tatooine with him, follow him wherever he may go. You wonder if he’s worried about you leaving him. Maybe telling him you wouldn’t leave would take one thing off his mind so he could sleep better. Or maybe he was already sleep. Perhaps the thought of you not joining him didn’t trouble him as much as you think. You exhale loudly as you roll out of bed, deciding to just go talk. You don’t bother putting on your shoes, telling yourself you’ll just pop next door for a quick chat, maybe apologize for acting cold and cruel.

You’re standing outside his door. You hold your breath and quietly knock. No answer. “Din? It’s me,” you say to the metal door. Nothing. As you had thought, he likely passed out the moment he hit the bed. If he even made it that far. You think you hear a noise from inside, but you can’t say for certain. At least he’s still alive.

You’re holding the card-like key to his room in your hand. You lightly tap it in the palm of your other hand, wondering, debating if you should enter. Maybe this was just a waste of time. You don’t want to wake him if he’s sleeping. Or what if he is…indisposed? It would absolutely be your luck that you would walk in as he was in the refresher feeding the sarlacc, so to speak. As if things aren’t already awkward enough between the two of you. Or maybe he’s showering, something you so desperately need as well. Accidentally seeing Din wet and in a towel, or, Maker help you, completely naked would give you feelings you have no business feeling right now. Things are confusing enough as they are without you wanting to pounce on him like some wild beast. You wonder if you should just leave.

Something in the back of your mind is telling you to go in. After all, he gave you the key for a reason.

Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen? You tap the key against the lock. A red light on the wall beside the lock turns green and the door opens, allowing you to step inside.  The second you’re in the room the door closes behind you. The room is mostly dark, considering the guest rooms are in the interior of the old ship, meaning no windows. The only light is coming from a dimly lit lamp on the bedside table. You give a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dramatic change from the brightly lit hallway.

As they adapt, you immediately see Din sitting on the bed, sans armor, his head in his hands. As you take another step into the room, you hear a quiet sob as his body shakes. Your heart falls to pieces.

He gave you his key…

It hits you like a ton of bricks. He knew he wasn’t okay. He knew he didn’t want to be left alone; he was just too stubborn or too manly or too afraid to admit – you aren’t certain which. Plus, you were acting like a complete bitch at the cantina. Regardless, it was clear he needed you.

“Oh, Din,” you coo, approaching him. He doesn’t look up. Your eyes search him, wondering what you should do, feeling so helpless. You sit beside him and wrap your arm around his back, holding onto his shoulder, consoling him. His body shakes with his erratic breathing.

“It’s okay.” You lay your head against his shoulder and a hand on his lap. “I’m here.”

He responds by uncovering his face and grabbing your hand, holding it tight. His palm is wet with tears. You unwrap yourself from him and take his hand in both of yours.

“I’m just…overwhelmed. And tired. So tired.” He seems incapable of formulating a full sentence between sobs.

“I know, Din.”

“Everything has happened…so fast.”

“I know.”

“The ship. The k-kid…”

“He’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“And how…how can I…can I…unite a nation? I-I can’t lead.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“We?” He looks at you, his face distorted, wet, and red.

“Yes,” you affirm. “We can navigate all this together.”

His face clinches tighter before he lets out another sob.

You let go of his hand and crawl behind him on the bed. You place your hands on his shoulders. “Come here.” You help him twist into bed and guide him toward the pillows. As you lay down together, your arm stays bent under his head. He buries his face into your shoulder and chest as your other arm wraps around him. Your cheek rests on his forehead. You quietly say, “Shh, it’s okay,” as you run your fingers through his thick hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Get some rest. It’ll all be okay.”

As you lay there with him, you feel his muscles loosen. His sobs turn more and more quiet and his breathing less erratic. Fortunately, after who knows how long, he drifts off to sleep. He’s exhausted. He’s broken. He just needs rest. And you.

Once you’re certain that he’s okay, you close your eyes and allow yourself to drift off to sleep along with him.

Your eyes flutter open, awakening from a sweet dream that you’re already beginning to forget. You take a relaxed breath as you open your eyes and make out a pair of eyes staring back at you.

“Din…?” you question groggily.

“Hey,” he responds softly, a small smile on his face. He seems so refreshed and relaxed compared to the day before, his eyes no longer red or heavy. “Good morning.”

“Morning? Is it really?” It had been the afternoon last you remembered. You twist your body to look at the chrono sitting on the night table. 6:49am. Maker, had you really slept that long? You both really must’ve needed the sleep. “Have you been awake long?” You sit up in bed.

Din sits up beside you. “No, not long.”

“Were you…were you just…watching me sleep?”

“You smile in your sleep sometimes.” He grins devilishly. “You know, when you’re not snoring.”

“I snore?” you question, your face contorted. You wipe a little drool from your face. Oh, Maker, you drool too. You are such a mess. “Why have you never told me that before?”

Din chuckles. “You’ve never asked.”

You give a sheepish smile as you look down at your lap and place a small strand of loose hair behind your ear. You feel awkward. Was he not going to say anything about yesterday? Was he going to pretend none of it happened? You wonder if he’s embarrassed or ashamed, having completely broken down like that.

Eventually, you swallow hard and look at Din with soft eyes. “Are you okay? Honestly.”

Din releases a large pent-up breath as he looks down at the sheets. He bobs his head. “Yeah, I think I’m good. I just hadn’t slept, and I think everything hit me at once. Things have been…”

“Chaotic?”

“Yeah.” Din looks up at you, seemingly relieved that you understand. “And I-I miss the kid, you know?” He rubs the nape of his neck.

“I know.” You inch close to him and lay the side of your head on his shoulder, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m sure he misses us too.”

Din laughs lowly. “He was such a little shit though. He’ll give that Jedi trouble.”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he brings him back. Probably threatened to turn that X-Wing around a time or two if he didn’t stop touching things. Hopefully he didn’t eject the Jedi.”

A half-smile appears across his face.

You raise a hand to his cheek and gently move his face to look at you. Your eyes meet his. “You were a good father to him. He’ll remember you. Always. And maybe one day, Maker willing, you’ll cross paths again.”

“He’ll remember us,” Din corrects, gazing back at you. The two of you stare deeply at one another. He searches your face, as if wondering when or if he should kiss you.

You feel a warmth growing deep inside you. You’re already in bed with him, touching his skin; just throw yourself at him. You want to throw yourself at him, wondering what it would be like to get lost with him under the sheets. But thinks feel too awkward. Just a day before, you were hating him for considering proposing to another woman. He was still recovering from an emotional breakdown. It didn’t feel like the right time.

You remove your hand, purse your lips, and look away, searching for something to say.

“Should we, um… Do you want to get some breakfast?” Din asks awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m starving,” you respond, remembering that you never even touched your flatbread at the cantina the day before. “Shit. I can’t go anywhere like this though. I haven’t washed in days, and I can’t shower without a change of clothes. I must smell like a Bantha.”

“That’s offensive to Banthas,” Din jests.

“Din!” you slap him playfully on the arm. You smile, realizing it was the first time he truly teased with you since before Moff Gideon stole Grogu. It’s a huge relief to you. “Is it really that bad?”

“No, you smell fine. And you look beautiful,” Din assures you, causing you to blush. “But, uh, if you want, we can freshen up a bit. Maybe eat breakfast in the café then search for a change of clothes.”

“Rumor has it that the way to a girl’s heart is through food and shopping,” you flirt nervously.

“Well, then. It’s a date.”

Your heart flutters as your push yourself out of the bed. Did he just say…date?

“Meet you upstairs in fifteen?” Din asks.

You nod, then turn to walk out of the room. Before you reach the door, you stop and turn. “Hey Din? If we’re not leaving today, maybe consider keeping just the one room for tonight.” You turn and leave the room, biting your lip like some lovestruck teenager.

You don’t know why you’re nervous as you ride the turbolift to the top floor, fiddling lightly with your fingers as you watch the numbers on the panel change with each passing floor. It was just breakfast. You had eaten far too many meals to count with him around. Even picnicked with him and Grogu a couple times. But he said…he definitely said “date.” Something about the word made it all feels so…strange. You may finally be able to turn this into something more serious. Plus, it was the first time just the two of you alone, not you, Din, and the kid in tow.

The turbolift stops and you get off. You enter the café and see Din sitting at a table, reading over a menu. He’s wearing his armor, helmet sitting off to the side on the table. You don’t know why you get a warm, tingly feeling inside you when you see him this way.

“Long time, no see,” you say as you walk up to him.

“Shit, I didn’t see you,” Din fumbles to his feet. He pulls out a chair and gestures for you to sit.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about this whole date thing, were you?”

“I’m a man of my word, aren’t I?”

You smile.

“What do you recommend?” Din asks as you both settle in. “To eat, I mean. I’ve never had time to indulge in anything worthwhile on Tatooine.”

“Ah, I don’t know. Dune Sea oysters are a delicacy to us natives,” you respond, smiling slyly.

“Oysters? On a desert planet?”

“Mhm. Worth a try.” You burst into giggles, unable to go through with your ruse.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“They’re Bantha balls, Din,” you laugh. “Dune Sea oysters are literally just Bantha balls. For a traveler, I’m surprise you’ve never had them.”

He blushes and laughs under his breath. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, and I think I’ll keep it that way.”

The two of you enjoy a breakfast of toast, eggs, fruit, and blue milk. You haven’t had such a hearty breakfast in…well, you can’t remember, it’s been so long. You enjoy casual chitchat in between bites. You don’t want to start an argument or anything of the sort between the two the you, but in the back of your mind, you’re curious of his plans for the immediate future.

“So about that ship Boba promised,” you finally say, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“He has a second ship, one he purchased when Slave I was impounded,” he responds. “He’s going to loan it to me. Once Cara gets the bounty for Moff Gideon, and maybe after a few hunts, we can buy our own.”

“Our own?” You look at him with your eyebrows raised, equally shocked and confused.

“Well, yeah. The ship could be yours too. If you wanted it to be.”

You don’t know how to respond.  He said it so casually, as if offering to own something with you wasn’t a big deal and just expected. “Is this your idea of a proposal?” you jest before taking a drink.

“What? You don’t know?” Din questions as he leans toward you. You raise an eyebrow but don’t respond, glass to your mouth. “Mandalorians propose by presenting their intended with a ship.”

You choke on the blue milk you’re drinking. “I’m sorry what? Are you serious?” You look up at him. Your mind is swirling. His face is deadpan. You’re completely unable to gauge if he’s serious.

After a couple seconds, Din laughs as leans back in his chair. “Sometimes you’re too easy to fool, cyar’ika.”

“I know.” You almost feel embarrassed that you let yourself be fooled, but you love that he’s playing with you. “I mean, I can’t wear a ship on my finger.” An awkward laugh escapes your lips as you pick up your fork to take a bite of egg.

“I’m serious about the ship though,” Din assures you. “Whatever is mine, I want to be yours. If it’s what you want.”

“Oh, Din, I-” For a moment you worry about what your future would look like. Flying planet to planet chasing some of the galaxy’s worst criminals. Constantly worrying about Din and his safety as he potentially would be gone on a hunt for days at a time.  Or maybe you both settling down on some foreign planet trying to rebuild a society, a part of some new royal family, both of your trying to figure out how to rule. Would you guys start a family? Maker, your kids would be beautiful…

You quickly brush your thoughts aside and return to the present. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.” He smiles.

After breakfast, Din dons his helmet and you head out into the light of the twin suns. As you walk along the bazaar, admiring items that the various shops have to offer, your hand somehow finds Din’s and your fingers intertwine. You wish he wasn’t wearing his gloves so you could feel his touch, but it was better than nothing.

As you pass a weapon supplier, Din suggests that you start mentally compiling a list of things that you may need in the future, once you secured the ship. Some weapons, some medical supplies, a few other things. Everything was lost when Moff Gideon decimated the Razor Crest.

“It’s a rather strange list to stock your first home together with, isn’t it?” you joke. “Who needs throw pillows and sonic blenders when you could have, I don’t know, thermal detonators and bacta?”

You chuckle along with him. The two of you talking about a future makes your heart pound. You aren’t certain if it’s all or a joke or something not completely off the table. Would Din want to settle down?

The two of you pass Jawas selling vehicle-repairing droids. Despite him wearing a helmet, you know Din is watching from the corner of his eyes. His body tenses as you both walk by.

“I guess we won’t be needing a droid for the ship,” you say, referring to the fact that you could repair things. It was one of the reasons he brought you on the Razor Crest in the first place.

“No, definitely not,” he responds simply, his pace picking up before a Jawa could stop you and perform a sales pitch.

“The Jedi had an astromech with him,” you remind him. “Grogu seemed smitten. I’m guessing he doesn’t get that from his father.”

Din gives a small, forced chuckle.

“What do you have against droids anyway?” you question curiously. You know he once hated them and became less dubious after IG-11 sacrificed himself for the group. He never made it clear why he was so distrustful of them.

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I'm only curious.”

Din stops in his tracks causing you to stop as well. You turn and look at him, concerned. “What is it? Din?”

“What do you know of Aq Vetina?” he questions.

You furrow your brows and shake your head. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Nothing.”

He looks around, seeing all the people in the bazaar. “Come with me.” He grabs your arm and takes you to an empty alley. You know he has something to say, something he doesn’t want others to hear. What could it be?

“Aq Vetina is where I was born,” he tells you once you’re both away from others. You listen intently, blocking out the sounds coming from the road. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “When I was a child, there was an attack. I remember fire, blasts everywhere. People running, screaming, falling to the ground.” He stops for a moment. “The attack was perpetrated by droids. They decimated the city, slaughtered everyone. My parents hid me under a hatch. It was the only way they could protect me. I stayed there, listening as an explosion killed my parents. Then the door opened and there stood this giant metal figure. A monstrous battle droid towered over me. He cocked his arm, his weapon, and pointed it straight at me. A child. I closed my eyes and looked away, waiting for the blast. I heard shots, but I was still alive. When I opened my eyes, there stood a helmeted figure. A Mandalorian. He killed the droid that was ready to kill me.”

“Oh, Din,” you mutter, tears welling in your eyes as he tells you this, a hand covering your mouth. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine. It’s just-I’ve never told anyone that before.”

“I know,” you say. You stand there awkwardly for a moment. By his body language, you know he’s uncomfortable talking about his past. You deeply appreciate the fact that he’s letting you in. You step close to him and wrap your arms around his armor and rest your forehead on his shoulder, consoling him. He responds by wrapping his arms around you. You stand there, smelling him as you hold him. Leather, sweat, and the faint scent of a woodsy smelling cologne that is wearing off permeates your nostrils. You find it comforting.

Eventually, you pull back. “Let’s get what we came for so we can go back to the hotel.”

You find the clothes you’re looking for and head back to the hotel before the suns can reach their peak. You return to Din’s room and lay your things on the table. The morning stroll through the bazaar was enough to break a sweat and you want very little more than to shower.

“Do you want to shower first?” you ask Din as you undo your hair, letting it fall freely down your back.

“No, go ahead. I’m used to smelling like a Wookie's ballsack.”

“Din!” you squeal before laughing. You can’t get over his vulgarity. A sign of just how comfortable he is around you. You smile, thankful that the moving moment you shared in the alley didn’t ruin the day. If anything, it made him even more at ease, as if opening to you lifted a huge weight from his shoulders.

“Are you sure? About the shower?”

“Ladies first,” he responds.

You watch as he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his gloves. As he reveals his hands, you can’t help but feel a hunger grow within. Him sitting there in his Beskar, slowly revealing his body. Especially after opening to you the way he did. Is he doing it on purpose? Does he know how wet he is making you by such a simple gesture? You would pounce on him if you didn’t feel so gross.

“Fine,” you sigh, snapping yourself out of it. “I guess I’ll just get naked and hop into the shower,” you tease. “Maybe I’ll think of someone special while I’m in there. Oh, Maker, I’ll be so wet... Because, you know, water.”

You smile and give him a little wave with your fingers as you disappear into the refresher. You laugh to yourself, wondering what in the galaxy you had just said. You were acting forward, and that made you feel stupid. But you knew it was stupid to feel stupid because the two of you had already had sex. And you’ve slept together. You’ve seen him naked. You’ve seen him at his most vulnerable moments.

Shaking any negative thoughts away, you take off your dirty, disgusting clothes and throw them into a pile in the corner. You step into the shower and turn it on to a perfectly warm temperature. You close your eyes and lift your head, feeling the water fall onto your body from the showerhead hanging from the ceiling. You thank Maker it isn’t a shitty sonic shower. They may be more efficient, but nothing beats the feeling of water falling onto you, taking your stress with it as it flows down the drain.

You open your eyes as you hear the refresher door open. You turn and see Din entering the room, completely naked.

“Din!” Your instinct is to try to cover yourself, but before you can move, he’s in the shower with you, his mouth on yours, throwing you against the wall. His hand is on your neck. You feel the wet tile against your back as your lips melt into his.

“You can’t just leave me with that picture you painted and expect me not to go wild,” Din says. “You dirty girl.”

“That’s why I’m in the shower,” you joke. Oh, Maker, why did you say that? Now was not the time to be joking.

Din looks at you and laughs. You know that’s what he loves about you, always so charmingly quick-witted and funny. He fully understands and appreciates your humor.

You giggle as you look at him. His eyes twinkle as his smile fades. As his facial muscles relax, you notice a scar on the bridge of his nose, something you never paid attention to before, always so distracted by his eyes…and other things. Water falls onto his body, tricking down his strong shoulders, his arms and chest glistening. The hunger in you grows stronger and stronger by the second.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve needed you,” Din says, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re the only thing that can pull me out of darkness.”

Din pulls your mouth back to his. Your arms are around his neck. You suck the bottom of his lip and a moan escapes from deep within his throat. He pulls your arms up and pins them to the wall, holding them at the wrist, pushing you firmly against the wall. You can feel his hardened cock as he leans against your body. He unlocks his lips from yours and kisses your neck with his deliciously plump lips. Your knees feel weak as his stubble tickles you in the most pleasurable way possible. Warm, tender tingles spread like shockwaves through your body as his hot breath hits the crook of your neck. It’s like he knows your weak spots. You are absolutely at his mercy.

“Do you like that?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you gasp.

As he does this, he releases his grip on one of your wrists and glides his hand down your arm. Goosebumps form on you as his hand touches your wet body. Before you know it, he is gently caressing your nipple with his thumb. You moan into his mouth as your body squirms.  

Din releases your other wrist from his grasp and follows a similar trail down your arm. He runs his digits down the side of your body, following your curves to your hips. You allow one of your arms to fall onto his shoulder and wrap it around his neck. You nuzzle his shoulder with your nose, enjoying the pleasure. You lay your other hand on the crook of the arm that he’s using to guide his hand along your body. He glides past your hips down to slides down and over to the back of your leg. He pulls it forward and up, lifting your leg against his hip. You hook your leg onto his and rub yourself against his body. Maker, you want him to take you right then and there.

“Do you want it?” Din asks.

“Yes,” you plead quietly into his ear.

“Do you need it?”

“Yes,” you whimper as you feel his cock flex against you. “I fucking need it.”

Din pulls his head back, his nose within inches of yours. You wrap your arms around his neck. He moves his free hand down to your other thigh and grabs you. At the same time, you push off with your foot and wrap your legs around him, crossing your feet near his bare ass, tightly holding onto him with your thighs. He presses your body against the tile and stares deeply through the steam and into your eyes as he moves to place his cock inside of you. The second the tip of him touches your skin you feel you could combust. He pushes himself deeper inside of you, the two of you moaning in relief as you finally connect for the first time in weeks.

“I needed this too,” Din moans as he begins to thrust inside of you, causing you to dig your nails into the skin on his back. Your head falls forward and you bite him on the shoulder. “Dank Farrik!” he swears under his breath, both in pain and ecstasy as you dig into him

You gasp for air through the heavy steam filling the room. Him fucking you feels good, but you can barely breathe in the shower. Not to mention, you were getting tired of holding on so tight. “Fuck me on the bed,” you pant.

You feel Din slip out of you as he lifts you higher on his hips so he can walk. You press your thighs tighter around him as you bury your face into his neck, kissing him. You feel your back peel away from the wall and water pours over you as he backs out of the shower, carrying you with him. It’s cold as you leave the humid refresher and enter the dry bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed and you look up at him with fiery eyes. He goes to climb over you, but you gently kick him away with your foot.

“How do you want it?” he asks as he reaches down and grabs his cock, giving it a little tug to keep it hard. He’s standing over you, watching as you push yourself up for a better view of his body, arching your back to lift your breasts.

“I don’t know, but I like this view.”

“Do you?” he questions, slowly moving his hand along his shaft. You nod. “I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” You bend one knee but keep your thighs closed, teasing him.

“A minute ago, you were all but begging for this cock. You think you can resist now?”

“Yeah, I think I’m good.” You look down at your hand as you run your fingertips lightly between your breasts and down your stomach. “The question is, can you resist?” You look up at him, watching him watching you. Your hands have made it down to your pussy. You spread your legs just enough for him to be able to see as your fingertips glide past your clit, down to your hole. You place two fingers inside, biting your lower lip as you enter yourself.

“You don’t deserve this pussy.” You moan in the back of your throat before continuing. “All the shit you put me through, Din. You should have to stand there and watch while I fuck myself.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “You can’t do that to me.”

“I think I can.”

He watches as you remove your fingers, wet with your juices, and bring them to your clit. You slowly swirl your sweet spot.

“Stop,” he begs, “and let me fuck you.”

“Why should I do what you say?” you question. You stare intensely at one another for several moments, each waiting for the other to break as you tease yourselves. Then, you close your eyes and moan, feeling the tension growing. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold yourself on the edge, but you refuse to give in.

Finally, Din grabs your wrist with one hand, stopping you from pleasing yourself, while placing his other on your throat. His face is within inches of yours. “Because you fucking like it.”

A small satisfied smile appears your face, pleased that he broke first.

“Now get on all fours or I’ll do it for you,” Din commands. He lets go of you and you obey, flipping over onto your hands and knees. The bed sinks under his weight as he climbs onto it, kneeling behind you. One of his hands grips your hips as he pulls himself towards you, guiding himself inside of you. You squeeze the sheets as he pushes himself into you deeper than ever before. He’s slow at first, but then quick begins to pound the holy fuck out of you. The sound of his body smacking against yours drives you wild.

“This pussy is mine,” he growls as he thrusts. “And this ass.” He smacks it hard, causing you to yelp. His fingers weave through your hair until he’s close to the scalp. “Say it.” Lightly, as if careful not to hurt you, he tugs. “Say it’s mine.”

You arch your back, popping out your ass. This new angle allows him to slide against a spot in your pussy that feels glorious, to say the least. You grab a bigger fistful of the sheets beneath you as you scream. “Fuck! It’s yours. It’s all yours.”

“Good girl.” He smacks your ass again before returning his hand to your hip. As he thrusts, his balls smack against your clit, teasing you. Even the sound is arousing you further. You desperately want to feel his touch.

“Fuck. Touch me, Din,” you shriek as you reach back to grab the hand on your hip and pull it to your clit. “Maker, please.” Your knees nearly buckle the moment his hand touches you there. He rubs gently in circles. He lets go of your hair with his other hand and moves it to your throat. He pulls you up from all fours and brings you close to him. You’re now straddling his legs as you sit on his cock, bouncing on it. He pulls you tight against his body, your back against his abdomen and chest. He continues rubbing your clit, increasing speed, while moving the other hand from your throat to your breast, fondling it.

“Do you like this?” Din whispers in your ear from behind.

It nearly sends you over the edge. “Y-yes! Yes! I fucking love it, Din.” Two of his fingers continue to swirl around your swollen, pulsating nub. You slow your movements on his cock, enjoying his hands and breath on you as you near the edge. “Maker, like that. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m. S-so. Close.”

“Come for me,” he whispers before sinking his lips into the nape of your neck, keeping the rhythm down below.

You can feel your walls tightening around his cock, squeezing it.

“Yes,” Din murmurs. “That’s a good girl.”

“F-Fuck, Din,” you scream as you begin to climax. You instinctively reach up in search of something to grab and find his forearm. Your nails dig into him, unable to control yourself. “Oooh, fuck!”

“Good girl,” he repeats.

As you come out of it, you grab his hand and remove it from your clit, panting to catch your breath. He puts his arms around you, one still groping your breast while the other rests on your abdomen. He is thrusting himself inside you, which feels even more amazing after orgasm, but as you regain control of your body you continue riding him once more, quickly finding harmony as you synchronize your movements, finding a rhythm that feels right.

“Oh, shit, cyar’ika,” Din moans as he squeezes you tighter against him. His cock twitches inside of you as he breathes your name through clenched teeth. He screams, his pelvis no longer thrusting toward you as he reaches orgasm, you the only thing keeping his orgasm going. You feel his seed filling you from the inside. His hold on you releases, but he stays inside you for a moment, as if he’s unable to move. He rests his head against yours. Finally, he slowly removes himself, sending a shiver through your body as you feel every inch of his shaft withdraw from you. He collapses back on the bed. You scoot over just enough to clear his body so you can fall back as well, sighing in satisfaction as you do. The two of you lay there for a moment, panting and sticky with sweat, mixed with wetness from the shower.

“Shit, the shower!” you suddenly exclaim, remembering where you had started. “Did we-did we leave it running?”

“I’m glad that’s what you’re thinking about right now,” Din laughs between breaths. “Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. I’ll take care of it.” He kisses your forehead, then rolls himself out of bed. You watch as he walks away, staring at his perfectly sculpted ass and legs as he disappears into the refresher. You bite your lip. Fucking Malachor, pull yourself together. There’s no way you need anymore right now.

You roll on your side, watching as he walks back into the room. He slips into bed beside you and rolls to face you. You look at his face, flushed from your escapades.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you respond. “I mean, I didn’t even get to finish my shower before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Din raises his eyebrows, the shrugs. “Alright, next time I’ll reconsider.”

“Don’t you dare,” you respond, grinning.

“That’s what I thought.”

You blush as you run your fingertips along his arm. “Remind me how to say ‘I love you’ in Mando’a.” You had heard him say it a couple times since the night on the Razor Crest. You only knew a handful of phrases in Mando’a, mostly swear words and other odd things you’d heard him utter. If there was a possibility of you both becoming Mandalorian royalty someday, you need to learn their culture, their language. You’re more than willing to embrace it all.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he responds. “The literal translation is ‘I know you forever.’”

“I know you forever?” you repeat. “That…That’s beautiful. It seems much more, I don’t know, deeper than ‘I love you.’”

“Sometimes ‘I love you’ isn’t enough.”

“I know what you mean,” you respond. You move your hand from his arm to his face, feeling its warmth. You caress him as you look deeply into his eyes and say, slowly and carefully so as not to mess it up, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

{Next}

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal #fanfic #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #another way #the mandolorian x reader #star wars #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

[supermarvelgirl15]

Small Gestures

Summary: It's always the smallest gestures that speak the loudest; the best gifts come from the heart.

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) × f!reader

Word Count: 1,920

Warnings: Minor spoilers for season 2, slight angst during one part

A/N: What? Me posting another fic? I know, I know, I'm surprised too. I'm just currently obsessed with Din Djarin. Also, there's a part where it's in Din's pov and it is not that good, I'm still trying to get the hang of writing him. Anyways, enjoy! And check out Is There a Problem Here? if you haven't already!

Main Masterlist

××××××

    At first, it was just small gestures. Making sure the other had eaten or had rested plenty. Helping cleaning their weapons or keeping up with the state of the Razor Crest. Even making sure that the Bacta spray or patch was being used correctly.

    It was those small gestures that knitted the strong partnership between Y/N and the Mandalorian. Their relationship was based on trust and taking care of each other. Together they took care of the Child until they were able to return him to the Jedi. Until then, they were deemed his parents and he was their foundling.

    They worked extremely well together in both battle and everyday tasks. If Din needed a tool to fix the wiring in the Razor Crest, Y/N would give it to him without him even asking. If Y/N needed cover as she ran to help the townspeople, they would just exchange a look and Din would do his job to protect her.

    Greef had once commented on how they were the most in sync duo he had ever met. He's sworn he has never heard the pair mutter a word to each other while they were working, that it was like they knew exactly what they were doing. The Mandalorian and Y/N just shook it off, claiming it was because they had worked together for a few years now.

    One time, after seeing how Y/N had brought up a cup of soup to the cockpit for Din to eat, claiming that he hadn't eaten all day, and how he didn't even argue, Cara realized how those small gestures were bigger than they appeared to be. She herself hadn't even realized that he hadn't eaten, and she was the one who was in the cockpit with him the entire time while Y/N was down in the hangar watching the Child.

    Later on she watched how Mando placed a blanket over Y/N after she had fallen asleep with the Child in her arms in the cot. The heating had given out once again, so it was quite cold in the Crest. Cara didn't dare mutter a word as she observed how he watched her, as if to make sure she was still breathing. It was then she knew that it was a mutual thing.

                                                         ∞∞∞

    When Y/N saw Din get swallowed by the krayt dragon, her heart dropped. He had told her to take care of the Child and ordered Cobb Vanth to get them both to safety. She didn't dare breathe as she hoped that his Beskar was enough to protect him.

    As the krayt dragon breached out of the sand and the Mandalorian had flown out of it just before it blew up, Y/N could've sobbed. She had never been so scared in her life and it wasn't even for her own sake. She would have rather go up against the army of Stormtroopers again than to go through that.

    Y/N made her way towards him, the Child in his pod following right behind her. Din watched as they approached, meeting her halfway.

    “Sorry, I didn't have time to explain,” he starts but is stopped when Y/N's hands come to grab either side of his helmet, pulling him closer to her. Her eyes scan over his body, ignoring the goop that he was covered in.

    “Don't ever, ever do that again,” she says sternly.

    Din and her stay like that, just staring at each other, the Child looking up at the both of them. They didn't break away until Cobb called them.

    When they had gotten back to the Razor Crest, Y/N went to venture the street vendors as Din talked to Peli Motto about transporting a traveler. She came across a vendor that was selling necklaces with black obsidian.

    She remembered being told that black obsidian was used for healing and protection. Din immediately came to mind, along with the feeling that she felt when she thought she wasn't going to see him again. Y/N knew it was just some stone, but that didn't stop her from telling the vendor that she would take one.

    Later, the passenger that they agreed to transport was asleep in the cockpit while both Din and Y/N took a break in the hangar, mostly to make sure the Child didn't eat any more of the lady's eggs.

    The Mandalorian was leaned up against the side of the wall, his head tilted back against it. Y/N wasn't sure if he fell asleep or if he was just relaxing for once. She held the necklace in her hand, rubbing her finger against the smooth surface.

    “What's that?” Din grumbled, sitting up straight as he looked at Y/N. She looked down at the object in her hand, becoming slightly nervous for a reason she wasn't used to.

    “Uh, it's black obsidian. It's used for healing and protection,” she answers him, fiddling with it some more before looking up at him. “I, uh, actually got it for you.”

    Din looks at the necklace in her hand for a couple seconds before looking back up at her. “For... Me?” He questions incredulously.

    Y/N nods slowly as she sticks her hand out to him, chewing on her bottom lip. Din reaches out and grabs it, his gloved hand lingering for only a brief second. Once it's in his own hands, he observes it more closely, rubbing his thumb around the hexagonal shape of the obsidian.

    “It's for when I can't be there. It'll protect you. I know it sounds stupid, but... It's a nice thought,” she shrugs before pulling the Child by the robe away from the egg container.

    Din smiles to himself as he watches her. “Thank you... Cyar'ika.”

                                                       ∞∞∞

    “It's like you don't even trust me anymore. It's starting to sound like you just don't want me around!”

    “I don't! I worked better on my own before you came along.”

    Din had been angry. It had just slipped, but those words dripped like venom from his tongue. He regretted saying such a thing to her. He didn't mean a word, but he knew Y/N wouldn't believe him.

    He was just on edge about what Bo-Katan had said about his Creed. Then Y/N had gotten shot during their raid on the Imperial ship, and it was like adding gasoline to a fire.

    All he had said when they left Nevarro was that she should stay behind once they reached Corvus. Y/N, of course, disagreed and that started their argument. He had already made her sit out when they took out the Imperial base, he should've known she wasn't going to sit on the bench again.

    In reality, he was worried and didn't want her to get even more hurt, so his solution was to make her stay in the Razor Crest while he worked the jobs. Din realized that he was asking her to quit her way of life and it made him feel like a hypocrite.

    For the rest of their flight to Corvus, Y/N stayed in the hangar, spending what time she had left with their Child and avoiding Din. He didn't see her again until they had landed.

    Y/N wouldn't look at him except for the occasional glance. A word wasn't said between them when Din checked her Bacta patch or when they made their way to the city.

    When they met Ahsoka Tano, she could feel the mixed emotions going on between the two. Anger. Worry. Sadness. Fear. Grief. Even the Child seemed to feel the tension going on between them.

    The Mandalorian knew he shouldn't had been as relieved as he was when Ahsoka said that she couldn't train Grogu, that he would have to choose his own destiny with the seeing stone, but he was grateful to spend more time with him. He knew Y/N was relieved as well.

    But once they were back in the Razor Crest, the tension between them returned. Din didn't know how he was going to apologise to her, he was sure she wouldn't even listen.

    Din reached into his pocket, pulling out a necklace that he had gotten made when they had visited Nevarro. He had meant to give it to her then, but the argument had occurred between them, so there was never a perfect time.

    He walked by her as she entertained Grogu, stopped in front of her, and dropped the necklace into her hand. Grogu climbed up into her lap, trying to see the shiny trinket. Y/N waited for him to say something, but was met with silence when he went up to the cockpit.

    Y/N looked over the necklace in her hand, flipping it over a couple times. She ran her finger over the letters that were ingrained into the metal bar. Vaii gar slanar, Ni slanar.

    She didn't know what it meant, but she knew that it had to be Mando'a. Din had taught her a few words in his Creed's language, but she didn't recognize these words though.

    Taking a deep breath, she sat Grogu down. The little one looked up at her curiously, tilting his head slightly. She told him to wait there for a few minutes before making her way to the cockpit.

    Y/N eyes widen slightly when she saw Din fiddling with the necklace she had gotten him a while ago, rubbing his thumb over the black obsidian. She didn't know that he held on to it, thinking that he had just put it up somewhere.

    “I didn't know you kept it,” she finally says, coming up to sit beside him. The Mandalorian looks up at her surprised, his eyes slightly wide under his helmet.

    Din looked back down at the stone in his hand. She thought he put it away? Why would he ever do that with something she gifted him? He realizes he probably would've thought the same thing if he was in her position.

    “Vaii gar slanar, Ni slanar.”

    The Mandalorian's head snaps back up to her, the modulator picking up his sharp inhale. “What?”

    “Vaii gar slanar, Ni slanar. I hope I'm saying that correctly. That's Mando'a, right?” She asks, showing him the necklace he gave her. He looks at it briefly before nodding slowly.

    Y/N looks back down at the necklace that was now around her neck. “What does it mean?”

    Din reaches over, rubbing his leather-clad thumb over the ingrained lettering. He looks at it for a few seconds before finally looking up at her, making eye contact through his visor.

    “Where you go, I go.”

    Y/N bit her lip, putting her hand over his, scanning his helmet. She always respected the Way, but right now, all she wanted was to rip the stupid thing off his head.

    “I'm sorry... About what I said,” Din apologizes, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

    She smiles slightly. “I know you are,” she replies as she gives his hand a comforting squeeze. Din let's out a sigh of relief, leaning forward to place his helmet against her forehead. Y/N closes her eyes, the Beskar cold to her skin.

    Din watches her from beneath his helmet, seeing how content she looked. He reaches his other hand up, cupping her cheek, the fabric a warm contrast compared to his Beskar.

    “Close your eyes.”

××××××

#star wars #star wars imagine #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian × reader #mandalorian × reader #din djarin × reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian #din djarin #pedro pascal #baby grogu #baby yoda #grogu #grogu djarin #kay writes

[grogusmum]

Okay, Grogu. Tell me about your Frog Lady friend.

Oh, boy. When we first met I got in trrrrouuuubbblllle! Dad was all grumble voice, "don't eat those!" But I was like, Father, I am only very small and starving and these are delicious. And all this bone broth business, if I want to drink bones I will tell you.

ANYWAYS, I love Mrs Frog Lady, cuz she is smart, and nice and brave AND even though people were mad at me for eating some of her eggs, she wasn't. She took care of me with her very nice frog husband, when Dad had work that even he thought was too much danger for me! Dad gave me a talking to in the hall. But Mrs and Mr Frog Lady was very happy to see me, because I am a delight! And got to see my littlest friend, whom I will NOT be eating, being BORN! That was a surprise to me, I tell you! And yes, at that moment, I felt like a sheep, for eating some of the other eggs.

I am wondering about frogs in my tummy... Dad and I have ways of letting eachother know stuff but we do have a language barrier issue, you know, I've mentioned it... so I can't ask him.

I tried to ask Master Luke, but he's all "force move this", "force push that". And "for kriffing sake (oops I'm not supposed to cuss, I said that on accident) stop climbing into my hood..."

Ooops I got off track.

Thanks for asking me about me and my friends! ❤🐸❤

#grogu answers your asks #grogu #character takeover

[burnwater13]

Grogu looked across the water, through the window of the Razor Crest and wondered what his dad was thinking about. Whatever it was, they were making sure that he didn’t know about it. He sighed. He hoped his dad wasn’t planning on going swimming in the ocean without him. That just wouldn’t be right. 

Unlike the Mandalorians, Grogu had found the Mamacore to be fascinating. It had this gigantic mouth with lots of teeth and then it also had taloned claws. A lot of them. Grogu wasn’t really certain how they connected to the Mamacore’s body, but that was okay. They still worked in a horrific and effective way. He suspected that they were distantly related to Rathtars. 

As he was considering the mamacore, his thoughts turned to food, as they so often did. He wondered what kind of critters they ate. Certainly fish. The ocean had a lot of fish and that would be pretty typical. But why bother with a hard shelled item like his floaty chair? Were the fish not enough? Did the mamacore think Grogu was a crab or something like a crab? Hard shell on the outside, tasty protein on the inside?

Well, he was definitely made of protein, but he didn’t know if he species was considered tasty. The only thing he found tasty was licking his fingers after eating gorg on a stick or a bunch of frogs, or even those delicious frog eggs. But his fingers, all on their own, didn’t taste special to him. 

Plus, it wasn’t like there were so many of his kind zipping around the galaxy that the mamacore would have tasted them before and thought ‘Ooh, a Grogu! Yum. I just can’t wait.’, like he did with frogs. Nope. Usually critters sniffed and poked and prodded a thing before eating it because maybe it was bad for them. What if Grogu was poison to a mamacore? It just didn’t make sense to eat first and regret later. 

Was there something that looked a lot like a floaty chair among the vast diversity of ocean critters on Trask? Grogu thought that must be likely. Maybe some sort of clam or sea snail or even a crab. It must have had similar coloring and not smelled special at all. Nothing to warn the mamacore that they had selected the wrong object to eat.

He felt bad for the critter. It hadn’t asked to be captured and put in a hold and used for the entertainment of the Quarren crew members. Sure they fed it fish, but Grogu doubted that they had fed it regularly. It acted like it was really hungry. Poor critter.

When he was really hungry he’d eaten all sorts of things that he’d later regretted. His biggest regret was the time he ate Mandalorian chili with his dad and Peli. Apparently the recipe Din Djarin had shared with their friend required the use of 60 to 100 spicy hot peppers and only a kilo of protein. Din and Peli really liked the stuff.

The only problem was that Peli didn’t realize that you weren’t supposed to use the peppers whole. You were supposed to chop them up. Grogu was so eager to eat, he snuck some out of the pot and put a whole hot pepper in his mouth. As it burned his tongue he pulled it right back out, but his fingers tasted like peppers for days. He was just glad that he hadn’t touched his eyes like Peli had. He thought she was never going to stop crying.

Well, that mamacore had stopped crying, or shrieking, or whatever sound it made, because Koska Reeves was not having it, and she ended the mamacore so she could save Grogu. Grogu appreciated what she did, but he still wished that there had been a way to spare the bit critter. Like the Krayt dragon and the mudhorn, critters that were big and threatening were all too often killed, rather than wrangled. He supposed time was of the essence, but he didn’t like it. 

Which was why he didn’t really want the Mandalorian take a risk like that again. Based on the wide variety of big and scary critters they had met during their travels, like those horrible ice spiders (they didn’t end well either), who knew what other stuff was swimming around in the ocean on Trask just waiting to get a chance to taste test a Mandalorian or a Grogu. Grogu certainly didn’t want to find out and have Din Djarin put at risk yet again. 

Maybe the Mandos were all just talking about the Imperial freighter that was across the dock from them. They all liked ships and it made sense that they would talk about the ships that the Imps used. What harm was there in that? At least there wouldn’t be any dangerous critters on board.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

[fanfoolishness]

All right! Off to liveblog Chapter 9, The Marshal!

Ah yes, recap. “Traveling for me, that’s no life for a kid.”

Except searching and searching for a Jedi takes time. Except Din and the kid fall into routines and habits and sweet little moments throughout the day. Except Din dreams sometimes, in the dark of deep space, that there are no Jedi... that the kid will always need him, and he wakes from these dreams feeling both grateful and guilty

Moff Gideon totally killed those poor Jawas, didn’t he.

What would it be like to be a Jawa, to find joys in scrap and metal, to dream of Egg???

To scavenge, perchance to dream....

I LOVE LOVE LOVE all the graffiti art for this scene

Also, Grogu’s pram absolutely got scorched in the flame trooper’s assault and Din didn’t go back for it or anything. Yet they’re using the one Kuiil made? This bothers me and it’s so petty.

3PO made it into the graffiti <3

Grogu is a budding art critic, change my mind

Gor Koresh, such a dick. But I love the music being so reminiscent of Jabba’s palace! Ludwig Goransson, you’ve done it again

I wonder if Grogu gets overwhelmed picking up Force vibrations in crowds? Is that a thing? Or does he mostly just get senses from other Force-sensitives?

Wherever I go, he goes. BECAUSE HE’S YOUR SON DINGUS

I can’t believe how adorable Din is, going on to total creepos about the fact that he has Been Quested

It just speaks to a very sweet earnestness on his part

“Put up your armor for the info” and Din: swivels his head like woah

What is Gor Koresh going to DO with the beskar anyway? He’s not even wearing any???? What a prick

He absolutely deserves everything coming to him

But Din even gives him a chance! What an idiot

Kick... BABY! (Anyone else ever play Peasant’s Quest on Homestar Runner???)

I always forget about the whipcord. How do I always forget about the whipcord?

Ooh Mando has a very homey cape this scene, I like

I’m glad he’s leaving this guy to be devoured by monster dogs, he’s gotta protect any other Mandalorians that may run across him

Does Razor Crest strike anyone else as a rather feminine ship? It reminds me of a sea cow. She’s got a belly on her.

PELI MOTTO MY QUEEN

She’s sooooo happy to see Grogu and he’s delighted to see her too and they’re all just so happy together

“I’m here on business.” Does that mean that they sometimes hang out not on business? Oh, what the hell, I’ve already written the fic.

Peli doesn’t dare leave the city walls. But maybe she will again someday? Sit a little in the desert, feel the suns on her face, the wind in her hair?

Is this R2-D5? Like, THAT R2-D5 that the Jawas nearly sold Luke?

The speeder bike has rusted. This lends more credence to my theory that Din and Grogu got to have a good amount of time together!

Grogu LOOOOOVES SPEED

Boy’s gonna be a pilot some day

I just... love... all of Din’s visits with the Sand People so much

Siiiiigh I love all speeder music in this series so much. Again, Ludwig Goransson, YOUR BRAIN

Just imagine being a little kid riding in the speeder with your dad, knowing he’s gonna take care of anything scary, and you get to go fast and see everything and feel the wind and it’s so delightful and you feel so safe even though you’re going 200km an hour <3

Hmm so a whole night fell on the way to Mos Pelgo. I just love watching episodes and looking for pockets of time that I can exploit with fic :)

Just imagine a Tusken calling him out and signing the word for “your son” and Din just having to go with it.

I always forget there is a little notch under the ear piece thing of his helmet. I’ve been drawing the damn thing for 2 months and still don’t have it down.

Short!cape version, activate!

Fake Boba Fett: *arrives*

Did he seriously have spurs back in the day? God I need to rewatch the original trilogy, don’t I?

Din watching Vanth order spotchka and being confused as hell, like “you know we’re not going to drink that in front of anyone, right???”

The body language in this scene is so good. The way Din stops, mid-step, and freezes. Then breathes, heavily, frozen in place. Ready to fight. Pissed as HELL. Take. It. Off.

Oh Din. “He’s seen worse” is not exactly a ringing endorsement for your ability to keep him out of trouble, lol.

Just imagine Grogu curiously feeling the vibrations of the krayt dragon and thinking he’s never felt anything so BIG in the Force before

I always forget what the name is the for the liquefaction of soil during a severe earthquake.... *doublechecks* goddamn it it’s just “soil liquefaction”

Doodle idea: Din having to clean tobacco spit off Grogu’s clothes from the spittoon

Awww Din’s speeder is so tiny next to Cobb’s pod racer engine speeder

Cobb Vanth: *runs away, steals ice cream, I MEAN A CAMTONO*

Yeeeeah running into the desert was maybe not the best way to survive in most cases

Luckily Jawas on Tatooine are honest and want to trade instead of steal his shit

I’m excited to see how shit goes down in the Book of Boba Fett! Do we get to see the Sarlacc escape on screen, FINALLY?

Weequay bartender: “But who WAS that masked man??”

Pew

God I miss the amban rifle so much!

It’s such a weird and sexy weapon

Do the dog things have a name? Tusken snarlies?

Every time Din speaks Tusken I die a little bit because I love it so

Awwwww he’s brushing the bantha’s teeth!!! It’s just very sweet to see

Grogu: ‘plz to not be eating me”

Din: *so fucking impatient about this guy not drinking a fucking gourd*

Grogu: *yay I love it when dad shoots fire!*

I love the sign for “kill it”

I also love how done Din is with petty squabbles, like, at all times

He just has no chill. Just “stop your whining, dammit.”

Grogu: “my dad is so smart”. He’s hanging on to every word Din says

Grogu: *watches dragon* DO NOT WANT

I love it when Din gets sassy. “They might be open to some fresh ideas.”

“It’s to scale.” *cackling*

Din volunteering the village is very yes. I also love when he is just absurdly old-fashioned. “Dragon will kill you if it takes its fancy, yadda yadda”

More energy thoughts from Grogu — everyone focused, tense, worried but Grogu isn’t sure why

A bantha is essentially a ground Appa and my husband votes to rename them a Grappa

Sand People always ride single file, to hide their numbers

Ooooh is this the same “the village rises up to defend itself” motif as when the Sorganites were training with Din and Cara?

It sounds very similar, but I could be making this up entirely

This episode was so fun on first watch but it doesn’t have a ton of emotional heft. I still like it, because I love all of them, but it’s definitely not as ripe for expansion of content as some of the others. Except, of course, to the Din/Cobb shippers, who said “hold my beer” and went off. Have fun, you crazy kids.

Run Sand People run!!!!

Seriously though Star Wars suffers from a serious case of the ecology never making any sense. What do banthas eat???? There’s gotta be SOMETHING for them to eat!

Krayt dragon: LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Mando tiiiiime but imagine Din glancing over to Cobb and for a second forgetting and being glad to fight alongside another Mandalorian but then he isn’t

Also there’s definitely room in this episode to write some cute little camp out scenes with Din and Grogu, awwww

Farewell to Mos Pelgo!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian chapter 9 #the marshal #din djarin #grogu #mando live-blogging

[burnwater13]

Photo from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 5, The Jedi

Here they were again. Grogu was pretending to sleep. Din Djarin was pretending that he wasn’t breaking his own heart by trying to give Grogu to Ahsoka Tano. What a mess. Wasn’t the Force supposed to help with moments like this? Wasn’t it supposed to butt in and make it known that the Mudhorn Clan belonged together?

Grogu didn’t know what to do to change things. Did he just have to be a better companion? It wasn’t his fault that frog eggs, any frog eggs, were his most favorite food ever. He’d had a long talk with the Frog Lady and her husband about all of that and they said they understood. Would they lie to him?

No. Of course not. Why would they? Just because his dad was a Mandalorian bounty hunter who might hold a grudge? No. Niebla was a strong mom and she wasn’t going to shy away from speaking her truth just because she knew Grogu’s dad followed a religion that venerated weapons. Right? 

Or maybe the Mandalorian was disappointed that Grogu hadn’t helped him avoid all those problems with the Quarrens on Trask. Those people had been pretty harsh and had tricked them both. It wasn’t Grogu’s fault that the Mandalorian couldn’t swim. And it wasn’t Grogu’s fault that Din Djarin had panicked and begged the other Mandos to help him. And it absolutely wasn’t Grogu’s fault that Mon Calamari had such strange senses of humor when it came to starship repair. At least they had left Grogu a couple of snacks to eat on their trip.

Uff! Was that it? Was that the problem? He didn’t want to get sick. Din Djarin was the one who flew the Razor Crest in the topsy turvey pattern! Not Grogu. And given the way Grogu’s biological systems worked those cookies hadn’t really been secure (if you took him meaning) and gravity just did the rest. It wasn’t Grogu’s idea that Din Djarin clean up that mess with his precious blanket/cape. He would have told his dad, ‘No. Don’t do that! It may stain!’. But he didn’t get a chance to say that and now he was paying the price! 

Just like the price he paid for trying to help his dad fix the Razor Crest to begin with. Red wires, blue wires… what the heck did that even mean? The input power cable to the phase modulator and the output power cable to the multi-plane geosynchronous accumulator were their proper names. Grogu looked it up in the maintenance manual once he had a chance to get back to the console. But Grogu did his best and Din Djarin just wasn’t satisfied, was he?

How quickly the Mandalorian forgot about all the times Grogu healed him and his ‘friends’. How quickly he forgot that without Grogu there would be no nice, new, shiny beskar armor protecting him. How quickly he forgot how stomppy that mudhorn had been on Arvala-7. Grogu didn’t have the luxury of such a short memory.

Nope. He remembered every little thing. The times he’d tried to explain to the Mandalorian what would end up happening if they left Arvala-7. What would happen if Dr. Pershing ever found him again. What would happen if Moff Gideon and the people trying to stop the ex-Imp managed to collide over the bounty hunter and his diminutive companion. But did the Mandalorian listen? Did he pay attention? Did he even try to put on a translation program and understand even a third of what Grogu had been telling him from day one? No. He did not. 

Not that Grogu was hauling a grudge around in his coverall’s pocket where he normally kept snacks. He wasn’t. He really liked the human. They had a lot in common. Brave. Stoic. On the run from their enemies. Grogu was sure that there were more similarities but he didn’t have time to count them all. 

He needed the Force to hurry up and intervene and keep the Mandalorian from giving him to Ahsoka. Maybe she had a ship that only held one person? That would be great. Or maybe she would start sneezing and coughing because she was allergic to him! That would also be great. Well, not really great per se, but useful. Or maybe she would just tell the Mandalorian that she wasn’t the right instructor for such a hard nosed stubborn little cuss and there wasn’t enough time left in the universe to train him. Or something along those lines. Grogu didn’t want Din to just leave him on Corvus, after all. 

Grogu sighed. This was one time when he really, really wanted the Force to be with him.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #ahsoka tano