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thefrogdalorian · 3 months

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The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Six

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 7105 Rating: General Summary: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone... Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Nice to meet a few more Mando characters in this chapter. Din has a cruuuuuuuuush. Also, I love writing Peli and Din's relationship in any universe. Thanks for all the comments and love you're showing to this baby so far, it means the world! Huge thanks also to the wonderful @suresnips for being my beta! ♡

6. With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]

For the first few weeks while the third season of The Mandalorian had been in pre-production, things were a little haphazard in terms of personnel that were present in the studios – known as The Volume – where the show was filmed. Din appreciated the sparsely populated studios. After all, less people meant less opportunities for someone to scrutinise his identity. Although Peli Motto, the person he was closest to on the cast, had been present and the two had hung out in Din’s trailer plenty of times, there had been markedly fewer people than usual wandering around the studios.

Now, however, it was Monday morning and the first week of filming was set to begin. That brought more people to The Volume. A lot more.

Din considered that he should have been used to it by now. It was, after all, the third season of the show. So far, his identity had successfully remained the closely guarded secret that he wanted it to be. Much of that was thanks to the showrunners, Jim and Dale. They were, after all, the only people present at The Volume at any given moment who had any idea of Din’s identity. That was a thought that both comforted him and made him nervous.

It was reassuring to know how closely they had guarded Din’s secret and abided by his wishes. Of course, some of that was motivated by the legal trouble they could become embroiled in should they ever reveal Din’s identity without his consent. But Din often thought fondly of how understanding the two men were throughout the sordid process of negotiating the contract with Disney. Jim and Dale had both pushed for Din to be The Mandalorian, insisting that, for them, there would be no second choice. It was Din or nothing.

Disney's eventual decision to accept the anonymity clause had been mostly motivated by how much Jim and Dale had stood by Din during discussions and how much they had wanted him as Mando in the first place. It was a debt that Din knew he could never truly repay to the two men who had flown in from Los Angeles over the weekend, ready for production to properly get underway. Din was looking forward to catching up with the two of them, who always made an effort to check in with him and inquire about how he and Grogu were adapting to life in a new country. Indeed, it was the two of them who had put Din in contact with a woman called Fennec Shand, who worked for the production company. It was her job to make sure Din and Grogu were sufficiently settled. Fennec often organised excursions, including the tour Din had enjoyed with Grogu at the British Museum on Friday night.

It was that very tour which Din had spent the majority of his weekend thinking about rather than mentally preparing for the intense filming schedule which lay ahead of him. Din was unsure whether he believed in fate, or destiny. But surely encountering her again, the girl who he had felt instantly drawn to after her eloquent speech in his defence at ForceCon, had not been a coincidence. As he stood there in the crowded hall, watching her disappear into the crowd, Din had wished against all probabilities that he could just see her again, one more time. Lo and behold, a few days later, there she was. Din did more than see her again. This time, he was free to interact with her without the confines of his armour and helmet. He marvelled as she shared her knowledge, expertise and showed an incredible amount of patience and understanding towards Grogu especially.

It was seeing her interact with Grogu that had really meant everything to Din. He already knew, after her speech, that she possessed many qualities that he valued in a person. However, to witness the compassion and patience she had extended to the nervous little boy, even after Grogu had caused somewhat of a commotion, it was difficult for Din to quantify just how much that simple act of understanding meant to him.

Now that he had crossed paths with her again, Din knew that she was a presence that he wanted in his life going forward. Equally, Din knew that it would probably be immoral of him to explore something with the girl. There was no way he could be completely honest with her about his identity, certainly not while they were still getting to know each other. That meant Din would inevitably have to lie while he evaluated whether he could trust her with his secret.

Then there was the question of how she would feel should she ever find out that he had been untruthful. Lying was not in Din Djarin’s nature; he never wanted to lie to her, he knew that would likely cause hurt further down the line. How would she feel if she ever found out that he was keeping such an enormous secret from her?

Despite the moral dilemma, Din kept returning to how he had felt when they were together. The rush that Din had when he was in her presence was indescribable. He felt a genuine connection with her immediately, despite how aloof he had probably appeared when she first walked up to him and Grogu. The sight of her had knocked all air out of his lungs even with all of the training he had to maintain his composure.

But then there was the thrill that Din had actually been able to talk to her and look at her without the confines of his helmet, all while knowing that she was seeing him for who he was and getting to know him as the man, rather than The Mandalorian. It was an enthralling experience.

So, Din had spent the majority of the weekend pondering his next move. Of course, he could return to the museum and ask after her, but Din feared that would be inappropriate and overstepping his boundaries. He wondered whether he should hang around the museum at closing time and wait for her to emerge. He wanted her to know precisely how much the time they had spent together had meant to him. Above all, Din wanted to continue getting to know her and determine whether the two of them could build a future together.

With all thoughts of how to make the next move, Din knew he was a little distracted. Which wasn’t exactly ideal right before an intense filming schedule got underway. Despite the fact that he was now onset and should be in full Mando mode, Din found that as he sat there in his trailer with Grogu, he was still distracted. His mind remained firmly fixated on the incredible girl from the museum that he wanted to know better.

A knock at the door pulled Din from his musings and he grabbed his helmet before unlocking the door. The familiar, tanned face and dark brown eyes of the man who cared for Grogu onset, called Iggy, greeted Din.

“Hi Mando,” Iggy chirped, “I’ve been sent to care for Grogu.”

“I thought I wasn’t due on set yet?” Din replied, slightly taken aback at his presence.

“Oh, you’re not. But Jim and Dale have requested your presence in their office,” Iggy explained.

“Alright. Come in, Iggy,” Din opened the door further and waved the lanky man with messy black hair that stood up in various directions, into the room.

Meetings like this with Jim and Dale were not unheard of, so Din had no reason to be particularly troubled by the fact that he had been summoned to their office. But there was a feeling of nervousness that lingered in his gut at his presence being requested like this. Nevertheless, after saying goodbye to Grogu and leaving him happily drinking a carton of juice while resting on Iggy’s lap, Din made his way to Jim and Dale’s offices.

Din’s heart dropped when he saw the grim faces of the two men behind the desk of their office. Instantly, he knew that instinct in his gut was correct. Whatever the subject of this meeting was, it was going to be an uncomfortable one. At once, the worst possible scenarios began flicking through Din’s mind. Perhaps he had been summoned here so Jim and Dale could tell him that his role had been cut from the new season, they wanted to go in a different direction and needed someone who was willing to reveal his face. Din was trembling; he stood frozen inside the doorway as he felt as though everything was about to come crashing down all around him.

Din felt sickened as he realised that his life, the one he had been building here with his son in the peaceful English countryside and the girl that he had met would, in a few moments, be cruelly ripped from him. Din was certain that the men before him were about to deliver a crushing blow as they informed him that he was no longer wanted for the role of The Mandalorian. The very role that he had been initially hesitant to accept, but had changed so many things for him.

It was Jim’s voice who finally broke through his racing thoughts and compelled him to move.

“Take a seat, Din,” Jim offered, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk from where the two of them sat.

Din apprehensively moved across the room and sat opposite the two men. The atmosphere was thick with an emotion that Din could not place, but judging by the glum, serious expressions that the two men before him wore, he knew in his gut that it was not positive. Din took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut beneath his helmet as he braced for impact.

“Din, we have some concerns that we just wanted to address with you before filming begins,” the cowboy-hat wearing co-creator, Dale, began speaking, his beady eyes peering out at Din from underneath his cowboy hat that was a permanent fixture on top of his head. “Do you have any idea what this could be about?”

Din’s heart was thundering so loudly that he was sure it must have been audible, reverberating off the Beskar. He shook his head slowly, completely taken off-guard by Dale’s question.

“Well, there have been a number of social media posts speculating that the real Mando was at ForceCon a couple weekends ago,” Jim explained. “Din… you wouldn’t happen to have any idea why people would think that, would you?

Din sighed deeply. The foolish decision that he had made without thinking it through because of Peli Motto, of all people, looked set to cost him dear. All he could do now was beg Jim and Dale for mercy, appeal to their humanity and let them know that it had just been a stupid mistake and nothing more.

“Yes. I do know why…” Din sighed and braced himself for what he was about to admit, “it was me,” Din finished, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry if this has caused any headaches for you. I was not thinking clearly. Peli gave me an invitation and mentioned the con. My curiosity got the better of me. I truly apologise, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Thank you for owning up to it, Din,” Dale said and for the first time his expression shifted into something other than a frown. It didn’t fill Din with much more confidence and Dale wasn’t suddenly smiling, but at least it was slightly more reassuring than the stony-faced expressions that he had initially been greeted with.

“Look, Din. We respect your reasoning absolutely for not revealing yourself to the public. If you’ll remember, we backed you the entire way during the negotiations with Disney,” Jim explained, using his hands to emphasise his point. “ choosing to go to a convention like that? Man, what were you thinking?! Your cover could have easily been blown.”

“I mean, that was really dangerous. There were the biggest fans in the world there, thousands and thousands of them. We went for an appearance and it was crazy, the levels of fanaticism,” Dale added and Din internally cringed, not realising just how many layers of danger he had placed himself in. “The photos of your costume went viral, we had to get someone from the PR team to create a fake account on social media claiming that they were the person behind the cosplay so the fans had an explanation. It had to come from somewhere. I just… I really don’t know what you were thinking, Din.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t thinking,” Din swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly ashamed at his recklessness. It was so unlike him. But he seized the opportunity to defend himself. After all, if Jim and Dale had really called him in here to fire him, he at least wanted to say his piece before they delivered such a crushing blow. “A castmate enthused to me about the con and she handed me some passes that the organisers had sent her. My curiosity got the better of me. I know how… things got out of hand after my appearance at the hospital. I should have consulted with you both first. I’m sorry.” Din said earnestly, although he was thankful that his helmet was covering his face. Din was unused to handling sensitive conversations like this face to face and his cheeks were burning an embarrassing shade of red beneath his helmet.

Jim and Dale glanced at each other in some wordless form of communication, which Din was unable to decipher. He felt his already sweaty palms moisten further in the leather gloves that he was wearing. Regardless of what it meant, Din knew that the look did not fill him with much confidence and he suddenly felt an overwhelming need to defend himself further.

“Look, if my actions in going to the convention were… a step too far and my position is now untenable, then I suppose I understand. I’ll be disappointed, of course, and firing me would uproot Grogu’s life too. But he’ll get over it. We all do,” Din said quietly, as much for his own benefit as Jim and Dale’s

“Fire you? Din Djarin, you are The Mandalorian!” Jim exclaimed, clearly incredulous at the notion that they would ever contemplate such an action. “Without you, this show would not be possible. We didn’t call you into this meeting to lecture you, I apologise if you were under that impression.”

“Yeah, the absolute last thing we would want to do is bring you any additional stress right before we begin such a busy period of filming. Jim and I were just concerned for you. Din, we don’t want you to be exposed before you are ready for the world to know who you are, if that time ever comes. The precautions that we have in place for you are unprecedented, there is nothing else like it. The amount of NDAs, the security around the studio, the way you travel to work and hide your face constantly. It is a new experience for all of us. I’ve been in this industry for many years and when you came to us with your demands of privacy… Well, we’d never encountered anything like it. But we’re in this together. You’re worth this, Din.” Dale said, his reassuring words comforted Din instantly.

“Thank you,” Din said, voice suddenly thick with emotion.

“If there’s anything at all we can help you with, you know you can always talk to us. No problem is too insignificant,” Jim said, kindly. “How was the museum visit, by the way? Did you and Grogu have fun?”

Din was once again thankful that the helmet was covering his blushes. Jim’s question forced him to cast his mind back to the museum, to her…

“It was wonderful, thanks,” Din breathed. “Grogu and I learnt a lot. I appreciate the excursions you two and Fennec organise for us.”

“You’re welcome, Din. Anything we can do to help you feel settled,” Jim nodded. “If you ever want to organise one yourself, you know you can contact Fennec. Her job is to assist you and always make sure that you and Grogu are happy and settled.”

“I appreciate that. Really, it means a lot,” Din said appreciatively. “Being here in a new country with Grogu is always a little lonely, but the visits help.”

“Well, if you ever want to organise any more, don’t be afraid to contact Fennec,” Jim nodded.

“Are you going to be okay with filming today?” Dale asked

“Yes,” Din said instantly.

Din knew that his head was probably elsewhere, but there was no way he would ever let down anyone else by refusing to film. Although he knew that there were plenty of intense action scenes and stunts that he would have to perform on this particular filming day that would take maximum concentration, Din was confident in his abilities to see them through. They were scenes that Din should be able to film in his sleep, with stunts that were as natural to him as an intake of breath.

The reality, though, of standing there in front of a set full of people looking at him expectantly was quite different. Din was hoping that by falling back into the routine of filming, that he would soon be distracted from the thoughts of the girl from the panel and the museum that had been racing through his mind since Friday.

He could not forget the glances she had thrown his way, the way her eyes lingered on him and the noticeable loss of her composure after he had compared her to the beautiful exhibits. Din was in awe of her knowledge about everything in the museum, the way she had shared it without being patronising. She was passionate, not arrogant, and had shown such patience and kindness to Grogu.

Din knew that he had to concentrate. Every take that he messed up inevitably cost money. But more than the financial repercussions, Din wanted to set the tone of filming for season three to a positive, productive one. Yet the ongoing dilemma of what to do going forward regarding his feelings for the girl were continuing to trouble Din.

It was a simple scene, in comparison to some of the intricate stunts with multiple moving parts that Din had to film in the past. All he had to do was fling himself across a cantina bar and punch a couple of aliens in the face. It was a move he had done hundreds of times in his life, both as The Mandalorian and in the life of violence he had known before Grogu. But today, Din could not get it right.

Din had reassured the director and stunt coordinator that he knew what was expected of him after he missed the first couple of takes, which was wholly uncharacteristic of someone who was usually as efficient as Din prided himself on being. It wasn’t a lie, either; Din knew exactly what was expected of him.

It was not his body that was failing him, it was his mind that was distracted, centred on events and people far away from this set. As he set himself for the latest take, crouching slightly and anticipating the vocal cue that would signal when he needed to move, Din shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He focused on his breathing, attempting to centre himself in the Star Wars galaxy and embody the formidable, ruthless bounty hunter that he was meant to be.

But it was hopeless. When Din closed his eyes, he only saw her face. The take began, but he could not stop thinking about her. About how much he wanted to see her again and how he would do whatever it took to cross paths with her and let her know how important she was to him.

“CUT!” the shout from the director startled Din out of the trance he had seemingly entered into once again.

Din looked around then, and noticed the annoyed faces of the cast and crew. At first, they had been patient with him and tried to hide their disdain. Now, though, it was plain to see how disappointed they were with Din’s lack of composure. He felt awful, as though he was wasting everyone’s time. He knew he needed to get a grip.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Din said apologetically, after messing up the take yet again. “I really don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” he murmured dismissively, although Din knew full well exactly what the cause for his sudden lack of professionalism was.

“Look, Mando, it’s fine,” the director, a man called Gideon, said in his distinctive husky tones as he wandered towards Din. “We’ll take an early break, you can go back to your trailer, get something to eat and then we’ll give this another go after lunch. We all have off days. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” Din said quietly, appreciative of the understanding and compassion that Gideon had shown him.

The two had occasionally had their own creative differences and disagreements and Din was certain that he would not be friends with him outside of work. But within The Volume, they were amicable, at the very least. There was mutual respect there and a begrudging fondness that neither would admit to the other. When all was said and done, though, Din knew that Gideon wanted the best for the show and ultimately that meant working with Din, rather than against him.

Din retreated to his room, proverbial tail between his legs. He was disappointed in himself for inconveniencing everyone. Although, he at least had Jim’s comforting words to focus on. Din knew he was The Mandalorian, he had put a little bit of his soul into this character. No one would ever be able to take that away from him, bad day or not.

Din was optimistic that a bit of downtime with Grogu and some food would revitalise him and leave him able to complete his scenes in the afternoon. Walking through the door of his trailer, which was more like a comfortable suite of a hotel room in a corner of the building than a traditional trailer, to see the smiling face of his son lifted Din’s spirits already.

The room that Din had to relax in between takes was a windowless room, tucked in the corner of the studios, that had at first evoked feelings of claustrophobia, but now Din appreciated for the privacy it afforded him and Grogu. A lack of natural light was a hardship he was more than prepared to bear to maintain his privacy.

Iggy and Grogu were sprawled out on their stomachs, a box of felt tip pens was open and Din watched with pride as his son focused on the picture before him. Din could see a sliver of pink as Grogu stuck his tongue out and furrowed his brow in concentration. Iggy sat up as soon as Din walked through the door, nodding at the Mandalorian who loomed over him.

“Hi Mando! Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Iggy smiled. “Grogu and I have spent the morning doing some colouring in. He did really well, I’m sure he can’t wait to show you what he made!”

“Wonderful, I’m looking forward to seeing it,” Din said, nodding proudly at his son. “Thanks, Iggy.”

“No problem!” Iggy beamed as he stood up. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to your lunch. I'll be back when it's time to go to set!”

The lock of the door clicking the shut symbolised that Iggy was gone and Din was finally alone with his son. He promptly removed his helmet, relieved to finally feel the air on his face once more. Din picked Grogu and his colouring book up and made his way over to the sofa, sitting Grogu in his lap, ready to appreciate his son's creations. Din had hoped that just the two of them together might have gone some way to calming his frayed nerves. But despite the overwhelming calmness and sense of purpose that Din felt whenever he was in Grogu’s presence, and even as his son proudly showed him the pages of the colouring book he had completed, Din still could not relax.

“They look amazing, buddy,” Din praised as Grogu showed him a page which, coincidentally, showed a rhinoceros.

Din was fairly certain that rhinos were not purple with bright red spots, and even though the scrawled swirls ventured outside the lines in plenty of places, Din did not care. He was endlessly proud of his son, to him it was a greater masterpiece than Dürer’s rhino. To most people, it was just a messy, childish scribble, but Din believed that it belonged amongst the finest exhibits in the British Museum. There he was, thinking of her again.

Grogu excitedly showed Din a few more of his colourings, before Din decided it was time for the two of them to eat some lunch. Keeping his identity secret meant that Din could not eat at craft services with the rest of the cast, it would have been impractical to eat underneath his helmet in any case. But Din relished the meals he shared with Grogu in the little room together, it was a way for them to bond and a way for Din to ground himself in the middle of the day, amongst all the chaos that being on set usually brought.

After helping himself to the platter of fruit that had been left, as usual, in his room and ensuring Grogu ate something too – despite Din’s efforts to expand his son’s palette, Grogu only wanted his favourite animal crackers – Din sprawled out on the couch. With the comforting weight of his boy on his chest, making Din’s heart soar as he stared up at him with big brown eyes, Din finally felt at peace for the first time all day. His mind was no longer racing over his dilemma, he just appreciated the comfort that time with Grogu brought him.

Din momentarily forgot the inner turmoil that was being waged within him in a battle between his head and his heart. For one second, he did not feel completely torn over what to do next. He was so relaxed that the outline of Grogu’s face gradually became more distorted, as Din’s eyelids grew heavy…

The banging on the door an indeterminate amount of time later roused Din from the slumber that he had unintentionally drifted off into.

“Hey Mando! Can I come in?” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door. It was Peli Motto.

“Give me a second,” Din replied as he sat up, careful not to disturb Grogu, who he removed from his chest and gently placed on the couch.

Din reflexively reached for his helmet from the floor and secured it on his head. He padded across the room and unlocked the door, feeling instantly brighter when he saw the brown eyes and wild curls of his favourite co-star staring back at him from the hallway. Peli’s presence always cheered him up, even on his darkest days.

“Word on the street is that you aren’t having the best day. What’s up, Mando? Something wrong with Grogu?” Peli asked concernedly. Although Din suspected that she was as keen to get in on the latest gossip as she was genuinely concerned for him.

“No, Grogu is fine,” Din shook his head as he stepped back from the door to allow Peli inside the room.

“There he is!” Peli cooed as she walked towards the sofa and scooped Grogu up into her arms. Peli hugged him tightly and Grogu chirped happily, having awoken from his nap when he was moved, despite Din’s best efforts. “My favourite little guy, how are ya?” Peli cooed.

Grogu let out a delighted noise and Din felt his heart swell as he stood back, observing the two of them interact. He loved how close Peli was to his son. There were not many people Din trusted with his boy, but Peli was absolutely one of them. He was grateful for Peli’s presence in their lives, especially when adjusting to a brand new country and environment. Both Din and Grogu needed someone in their lives who was a comforting, uplifting presence and Peli filled that void perfectly.

Despite how kooky and extroverted Peli was, in contrast to the quiet, methodical way Din conducted his business: if it ever came to it, Din knew that he would trust Peli with his life and even with Grogu’s life. In his bones, Din knew that he trusted her entirely. If anything, Peli was the person on the cast that he was most likely to reveal his identity to. Unfortunately, Peli possessed the loudest mouth on this planet, so Din was realistic about the odds of that ever happening: they ranged from slim to none.

“Grogu is fine,” Din sighed. “It’s me…”

“Oh quit moping, Mando. You’ll rust!” Peli said jokingly.

Din smirked beneath his helmet at her directness. He was unaccustomed to having people like this in his life who would speak to him so directly, without filter. But it was something that he had found he had been missing out on, he thoroughly enjoyed the way Peli would banter with him. At first, he had found the curly-haired woman a tad overbearing. But now, as she sat here in the brown overalls of her costume on the couch in his room, he realised just how much he had come to care about the woman. Even if the reason for his distress was partially her fault, to begin with.

“No seriously, bud. What’s up? I hate seeing you like this.” Peli said, sympathetically. “And if you don’t get your act together, we’ll all be stuck on this set for much longer than I’d like. I have two cats that miss me very much in Los Angeles, thank you very much.”

In typical Peli fashion, she could not resist gently ribbing him after any genuine concern was shown. But Din didn’t mind it. Emotions were a mildly terrifying concept to the man who had spent so much of his life alone.

“It’s all your fault, really,” Din said lightly.

“My fault?! Wait… please don’t tell me you saw that video. It was ONE time, okay!” Peli lifted her hand defensively.

Din just shook his head, having no idea what she was talking about. Whatever it was, Din was fairly certain that he did not want to know.

“No, Peli… I didn’t see any videos…”

“Good, mister. You better keep it that way,” Peli said sternly as she jabbed a finger in Din’s direction. “Now, do you want to talk about it? I’m here for ya, Mando.”

“Well, it’s kind of a crazy story. It all began after that conversation we had about that convention that was coming up. I wanted to try and see what all the fuss was about and also give something back to the fans, I guess. Make a few people’s day, take some pictures…”

“That was you?!” Peli exclaimed, excitedly. “I knew it! What did you think of the con?”

“I hated it at first. It was horrendously busy. I probably would have left, but for an encounter I had. It opened my eyes up to how much people love Mando. It was… nice to feel their love and appreciation for the character.”

“I can’t believe you actually went…” Peli whispered, shaking her head in awe.

“Well, it was an incredibly reckless move in hindsight. Jim and Dale called me into their office to warn me against doing such a thing in future. The costume went viral and they had to make some fake social media profiles allegedly, to claim the costume…”

“That’s insane!” Peli squealed. “Oh yeah, it was everywhere online this week. I’m not surprised they had to do that, so many people were tweeting me, convinced it was the real Mando.”

Din cringed at her words, feeling terribly embarrassed once again at how much inconvenience his moment of recklessness had caused. He sat there for a few moments, trying to adjust to the information and take onboard how close he had come to having his cover blown.

“That’s not why you can’t do the stunts, though, is it?” Peli questioned and Din marvelled once again at how much she saw him, despite having never laid eyes upon his face.

“No, you’re right. It isn’t,” Din conceded. “While I was at the convention, I attended this panel. It was right at the back of the convention hall, but it stood out to me. It was called ‘The Man behind the Mandalorian: Exploring the Identity of the Galaxy’s Best Bounty Hunter,’ and it was hosted by an awful man. A man who was way too old to be wearing a backwards baseball cap, but I digress,” Din grumbled, still caught up on how ridiculous the guy had looked as he sat there, thinking he was the greatest man on earth. “Well, the panel was pretty much just praising the violence of the show and how good Mando is at fighting. Pretty surface-level stuff. There were some criticisms in there, but I could take it, you know. They were still mostly aimed at the show. But then… he opened the floor up to questions at the end and things began to get nasty. People were making all kinds of personal insults about me, about the character. Calling me a diva and saying that I must be a nightmare to work with if I won’t show my face to anyone.”

“Awww, Mando. That sounds awful, it must have been really hard for you,” Peli soothed. She reached out to pat Din’s arm beneath his pauldron. The contact made him jump at first, but he soon melted into the reassuring touch. “You are the furthest thing from a diva. I know I tease you a lot, but I genuinely think you’re a great guy. I really care about you and the kid. Even though I don’t know what you look like. I mean, you could look like an ingrown toenail under there. How would I know?!” Peli joked and Din found himself laughing at that, despite the inner turmoil that still waged inside him. “Look, I still treat you so kindly, aren’t I nice?” Peli added, even though they were both well-aware of how much she teased Din.

“Thanks, Peli,” Din said appreciatively, his voice full of the genuine mirth that her comments had provoked in him.

Giggling like this with Peli was a brief moment of welcome relief and Din’s shoulders dropped a little from the tense position they had been frozen in through most of the conversation. But Din knew the lighthearted moment was fleeting. He still had to explain to Peli the reason for his tormented state.

“It wasn’t the things that were said at the panel that caused all this though,” Din sighed, taking a deep breath as he braced himself to explain the cause of his current state of mind. “Don’t get me wrong, I was having a terrible, awful time. I really wanted to leave. I was about to. But then, this girl stood up. She… she marched right to the mic. I could tell she was a little bit nervous, but she spoke so passionately about me and the show and she stood up for me. Not just as Mando but also as… me. Even though she didn’t know anything about me, she still respected my right to privacy. It felt incredible… her words, they soothed my soul.”

“Oh! Mando has a crush!” Peli said in a teasing, sing-song voice.

Din just tilted his helmet to one side, conveying his disapproval. It was a part of Din that had found its way into the show. Mando was always conveying his disdain for others with a simple tilt of the head, but that mannerism was one hundred per cent a Din Djarin move.

“Sorry. Continue,” Peli said, waving her hand as if to encourage him.

“Thank you. Well, the way she made me feel, it was amazing, obviously,” Din admitted. He paused again, attempting to find the words to explain the rest of the story. “But that wasn’t the last time I saw her. After I left the panel, I went around the hall, taking photos with panels. I was about to leave but then the girl and her friend stopped me for a picture. She was so sweet and polite. I couldn’t stop thinking about her for days… I felt certain that that was the last time I would ever see her…. But then….”

“Woah, hold on there. Look, if you’re gonna tell me about some illegal shit, I gotta get my lawyer on speakerphone. I can’t be a party to any criminal acts, I’m on very thin ice as it is, Mando. Please don’t tell me that you stalked her on social media and then tracked her down to her house and used the zoom on your phone to track her every move until the….” Peli yammered, but Din stopped her.

“What?! No. Of course not, Peli,” Din said, cutting his eccentric, curly-haired friend off mid-ramble and doing his best to ignore the oddly specific fear that she had.

“Oh…” Peli exhaled. “Well, in that case, please continue…”

“A few days later, one of the team here, on orders of Jim and Dale, organised a visit to the British Museum for Grogu and me. Imagine my surprise when the same girl ends up being our tour guide. Except, I went there without my helmet. I was just… me. The man behind the suit. She met me as me, not as Mando. It’s a mess,” Din sighed, his shoulders slumping forward again. “I like her and I’d like to see her again and get to know her. I think I felt a genuine connection there, and she was so great with Grogu. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her, Peli. But how can I… pursue anything? When she’s such a big fan of the show. It would feel strange… like I was taking advantage somehow. Plus, I can’t stand lying. I’d be hiding myself, hiding who I am. A massive part of me.”

“Oh, look at you, Mando. You big softie,” Peli smiled, looking at him adoringly. She was a few years older than Din and he had long sensed that she felt somewhat maternalistic towards him. Peli was looking at him with all the pride a mother might show when their child shows an interest in someone, with a hint of surprise there, too. It seemed that she had never considered that he could be the romantic type.

“What do I do, Peli?” Din asked, desperately seeking the advice he needed to soothe his troubled soul.

“Well, firstly I don’t think you’re taking advantage of her. She doesn’t know you’re Mando. You might have started catching feelings for her when you saw her in that panel, but she doesn’t need to know that,” Peli advised. “I would say, you also don’t have to outright come out with the truth. You can just… skirt around it, I guess. She doesn’t have to know specifics about where you work, it’s just… keeping a secret or two, rather than lying.”

“What if she ever finds out that I’ve been keeping secrets?” Din asked, his voice full of apprehension at the idea.

“Well, hopefully you would have told her on your own terms long before that, once you felt comfortable enough and as though you could trust her. But, hopefully, if that happened… she would understand. Your life, I certainly don’t envy you Mando,” Peli admitted.

“There’s a lot to juggle,” Din confessed.

“I know, I can’t imagine the burden. You deserve nice things, Mando. You deserve a love story of your own. Just make sure she gets to know you for you. Not Mando, with no armour, just you… whoever you are beneath all that. Hell, I don’t even know!”

“Thanks, Peli,” Din smiled, feeling comforted by her words. For all of her eccentricity, Peli still had a heart of gold. “I’ve never really done this before, though. I mean… dated someone. I didn’t get her number after the tour but I’m sure I could get a message to her somehow. I was thinking about sending her a bunch of flowers, with a little note,” Din pondered. “Is that a thing people still do? She seems to be a bit younger than me, in her mid-twenties if I had to guess.”

“Mando! You really are the romantic type! I never would have guessed that from you!” Peli squealed. “She’s a very lucky gal, I’m sure that would be a very thoughtful gesture that would be appreciated by her. Go for it.”

“I will,” Din said, determinedly.

Peli lingered for a few more minutes, catching Din up on all of the gossip he had missed in craft services. Din didn’t particularly care for gossip, but somehow when it was Peli, it was endearing to listen to. Then the brown-overall wearing woman made her exit, mumbling about how she needed to head for a smoke before filming began again.

Din sat there for a few moments, smiling to himself in her wake. He knew that in a few minutes, Din would be summoned to set as Iggy would knock on his door ready to take care of Grogu. Din would have to face a room full of people who were at worst, annoyed and at best, concerned. He had to leave the room, projecting an air of strength and dependability that he was, as Mando. When he left the room, the transformation would be complete from doting father to feared, intergalactic bounty hunter.

Din could have no distractions now. He knew what he needed to do, the talk with Peli had given him clarity and purpose and, bizarrely, the animal that Grogu had been colouring in had given him an idea. So, Din picked up the phone in his trailer and dialled the extension that took him through to the offices of Fennec Shand.

The phone rang once.

“Good afternoon Mando, how can I help you?” Fennec asked.

“Hi, Fennec,” Din replied. “Can you please get me the phone number for the best florist in London?”

Next Chapter

Taglist:@toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

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Honor (Din Djarin x Reader)

Din had learned over the years to trade his desires for his needs, selfish thoughts would only hinder him. Thanks to you, he quickly discovered that if you want somebody bad enough you begin to need them.

Requested by Anon: #29 with Boba teasing Din about reader? #29: Crushing hard, huh?

A/N: Din quietly craving the reader is just nyehrfhejdbhi, love this trope.

Category: Mutual Pining, Angst if you squint, just straight up yearning

Warnings: None

He loved to watch you.

It was the understatement of the millennia- he needed to watch you. Like an addiction, he couldn't pull his eyes away. Not that it mattered. You had no idea when he was observing you and it gave him free rein to drink in your visage as he pleased.

Of course, the guilt that flattened his lungs every time he did it was less than ideal.

"Careful," Din exclaimed, lurching forward to steady the box that wavered in your arms. You raised a brow, a movement he learned to associate with playfulness.

"I've got it," you murmured, attempting to counter-balance the precariously placed cargo. Once it had stopped swaying, you shot the hunter a small grin. "But thank you for coming to my rescue."

Always, cyar'ika.

Din stayed silent, opting to slowly pull his hands back to his side. He was suddenly hyperaware of the eyes burning into his back and a grimace pulled at his lips. Boba watched the interaction with keen interest and he knew the Daimyo would slyly bring it up later on.

You made a move to turn, flashing both Mandalorian's a farewell smile.

"Get me if you need anything," Din uttered suddenly, fingers twitching at his waist. He wanted to help, to take that box and relieve you of the weight. However, you were set on your mission and he couldn't find it in him to take that from you.

Watching him from beneath your lashes, you nodded. "Of course, who else would I call on?"

The hunter swallowed tightly, suddenly struggling to breathe.

Depend on me, mesh'la.

Only me.

With a gentle quirk of your lips, you turned and waddled awkwardly through the palace entrance. On any other occasion, he would have found it amusing- but Din was rooted to his spot on the dirt, watching after you carefully.

When you were out of his line of sight, his shoulders sagged in relief. If you had managed your way up the entry steps he knew you would be fine inside.

"Crushing hard, huh?" The Daimyo teased, groaning shortly after as he stood to his feet.

"What?" Din tilted his head but didn't turn. The leader approached from behind, dusting his pants with short pats.

"You like them," he stated simply- as if it were that easy.

The hunter was quiet as he finally squared himself against his friend, watching him carefully from behind the visor. His heart pounded in his ears and his mouth was dry.

Boba's lips quirked upwards, eyes sly. "It's obvious, my friend."

Din startled, flinching visibly at the words. In an attempt to recollect himself, wild excuses were thrown through his mind. He grasped at anything that might recover the situation but nothing stuck.

The flat expression Boba sent him was enough to halt his efforts.

"It's against the code," Din sighed finally, casting his gaze downward. Boba snorted, clapping his comrade over the shoulder.

"I think we are well past that stage, don't you?" The Daimyo shook his head. "The only thing holding you back is your own self-doubt."

It was the hunter's turn to huff, "I am a Mandalorian. I do not doubt myself."

Boba crossed his arms over his chest, the armor adding bulk to the movement. "You are also meant to be honorable."

Din raised a brow.

"Where is the honor in cowardice?" The Daimyo asked firmly. The question was rhetorical and he was glad because there was no answer he could offer.

He knew what was being referenced, Din's avoidance of his feelings. The way he let his hands linger on the rare occasion that there was an excuse to touch you. He was a coward because of the way he thought of you as he lay to rest and the way he waited impatiently to see you in the morning.

Boba was right, there was no honor in hiding the way he felt.

But lately, Din found that his honor was skewed.

As you walked back outside and every single one of his senses stood to attention, he knew then he wouldn't tell you. He knew when your eyes immediately drew to him, passing over Boba unseeing. He knew when you came to him shyly, babbling conversation with Boba but gaze never wavering.

The skin on his arms electrified with your proximity and burned as you bumped him playfully. He wanted you so wholly that the feeling was all-consuming.

That is why he could not have you.

There may not have been any honor in hiding his feelings, but as Din watched you smile he had accepted it.

Besides, his honor was turbulent at best, and should he tell you his feelings and you accept them you would know he was a fraud.

In the dark, you would come to understand how sinfully dishonorable Din could be.

Only for you, Cya'rika....

#mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #star wars #the mandalorian #baby yoda #grogu #pedro pascal

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sgt-morgan · 1 year

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Making a home 🖤

Summary: The Mandalorians are rebuilding their home world, and you and Din are an integral part of the efforts. Now it’s time to move your relationship to the next level

Warnings: AFAB and Female identifying reader. Mostly just fluff tho, nothing to crazy here.

A/N: So, this was a labor of love from my obsession with Sci-fi. Mostly the leadership structure and world building came from sources such as Ender’s Game and its subsequent sequels. I love the idea that when it comes to rebuilding something important, like creating a society. Leaders who aren’t afraid to throw themselves into every aspect of the process are the ones most likely to succeed, and I think that Din is the perfect choice for this. He’s seen Mandalorian society at its most vulnerable, and still upheld and believed in its creed, and now he’s the one who gets to put it back together. idk, I just think he’s neat. 🥺

Mando Masterlist

You were laying in the Mandalorian’s bunk next to Grogu. Was it weird that you were sleeping in his bunk? No. You were always in his space. You were in his opinion, an overly affectionate person. When you first started traveling with him, he noticed with your friends, you were constantly hugging, constantly holding hands, constantly fussing with clothing. It was just within your nature. You would fuss at the baby, stroking his petal ears, snuggling him close to you any time the option was available, fussing with his tan robe and making sure it wasn’t too long, resting your forehead against his while he babbled at you, staring into his big brown eyes. It was cute. You were also affectionate with the big scary Beskar covered heathen right from the beginning. You held his hand, arm, pinky, elbow, whatever, with no trace of fear or hesitation. You were constantly attached to him. At first, this made him very uncomfortable,then your relentless need for contact became a necessity. The calm your presence brought, the soft feel of your hand in his, the way you practically glued yourself to his hip when your arms weren’t free. In the days before Din got so used to you touching him constantly, you would lean against his side almost aggressively until one of his arms rested on your hip, or lower back, or around your shoulders. He didn’t get it, but who was he to complain. If in exchange for your cooperation, care, and that bright smile that lit up the darkest of rooms, you only asked for him to be near to you, why would he ever deny you? It’s the easiest trade he’s ever made if he’s entirely honest, he’s just glad that it was that simple.

Now though, he was asking a lot of you. He was Mand’alor. King of a desolate kingdom of warriors, that had finally gathered ability and the strength to rebuild, and they were a tough crowd. He was going to have to rebuild them, and he wasn’t so sure he was the best of choices to be the builder, but the has the dark saber he supposed, so it was him or death, and he didn’t plan on going anywhere.

He was currently working on the Mandalore restoration project with you, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Cara Dune, Paz Vizla, and Greef Karga. Their motto? ‘No Kriffing Civil Wars.’ At current, rebuilding meant taking his new found Clan, and traveling the planet settling different clans and establishments into their own homesteads. It meant building settlements, establishing governments, planting crops. With the now desert climate of the planet, a lot of this was centered around taking old settlements and making them habitable again, making the once grand domed cities habitable or at the very least finding creative ways to redistribute usable resources, water being the main problem. You were instrumental in this cause, you would scout resources, build homesteads, help negotiate treaties, plant crops, watch children, do whatever you could, and the people of this world were quickly starting to realize that their king found an excellent queen, even if she wasn’t a Mando herself. They respected their leaders to be certain, Din could be found just as easily establishing leadership with Paz and Boba, as he could be found keeping the peace with Fennec and Karga, as he could be found alongside the men and women who would inhabit these cities, building homes or repairing ships. You were just as willing to get down in the muck with them, you were most often found with Grogu strapped to your back, helping wherever needed. It was a deeply satisfying sight for Din, as much as it was a reassuring one for his people, and slowly but surely in your travels, his people fell in love with your willingness to embrace struggle.

What’s funny is, your touchy nature really did well with the often stuffy and formal Mandalorians as well. This race of live fast, die young, warriors had been forced into a more sedentary society since they had been scattered amongst the stars. All were invited, and in some places they were ridged, Beskar clad, societies like the children of the Watch, where there was no casual helmet removal. Others were of Bo Katan’s nature, removal not being seen as such a sin, the way of the Mandalorian practiced just as diligently, but without as much insistence on armory removal protocols. Din and his ramshackle group of world builders were learning that if this planet was to survive, these people survive, a more fluid look at the creed would need to be adopted. It was at your suggestion he took Boba Fett as a second in command. There was a man who kept the code, but was not your typical Mandalorian. He was casual with his armor and his assets, and with his years of leadership under his belt, he was well suited to the work, and it was apparent in his every move. This partnership seemed to work, people accepted that for their way of life to survive, the creed would need to be upheld in a way that suited the progress made in their society. As these cities and clans filled in the gaps of the planet, the true nature of what Mandalorian society had become, became clearer. There were younglings, and foundlings, and Mandalorians with Mandalorian spouses and non Mandalorian spouses, and Natural born mandalorians and mandalorians who had adopted the creed, and Din saw that your being a perceived outsider worked wonders in places such as these. You were courting a Mandalorian who strictly adhered to the code, and you were not a Mandalorian yourself. You spoke Mando’a, you were a buir, you were for all intents and purposes a follower of he creed, and surprisingly Mandalorians of all kinds took to you easily. He could often find you bumping shoulders with older Mandalorians, battle hardened warriors who weren’t the playful type, easily laughing with you about something or another, as often as he could find you with newer and more relaxed Mandalorians whose lives lived in hiding had made them a more accepting bunch. It stunned him that no matter who you were around, a gentle embrace, a pat on the shoulder, a hand shake, all your simple physical gestures resonated with people.

He suspected your easy acceptance mostly had to do with the way you treated the children. They adored you, constantly gathering around your feet and following you place to place. You always drew a crowd of the little ade, wether they wanted to play with Grogu, or wether they liked the way you so easily gathered them into your arms, he couldn’t say. However, if he were to guess, the way you so easily kissed wounds, wiped tears, gave hugs, gave snacks, acted as a natural magnet. You loved children as well as any Mandalorian did. You could be found with children more often than adults most days, multiple ad’ika dangling from your arms or clutching to your back. You would playfully groan and huff, carrying them along with you as you went about your buissness. You sang songs, played games, broke up scuffles. You would share your food, breaking off pieces for any small child who expressed interest. Just yesterday, you were eating some fried thing one of the people gave you, a little girl eyes it and you brake off a bit of it, blowing on it softly to ensure it wasn’t too hot and popped it into her mouth with a smile, feeding her as if she were your own. She squealed in delight, and Grogu huffed, indignant that his mother would share with another child. You rolled your eyes playfully, broke the food in two halves, and blew them carefully. Once cooled you handed one half to Grogu, still carefully strapped to your back, and gave the other to the girl. Then you sat and talked to them both until they were finished, you wiped both their mouths with your skirts. The girl rubbed her nose with yours, and then with Grogu, and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek before running off with your son to play. It was precious. That was the day he connected the dots. People watched you more diligently when you were with the children, as if testing to see what you would do when presented with a random child, and you always passed. It was heartwarming, and your easy going nature always seemed to win them over.

In all this rebuilding, it was now coming upon time where Mandalore needed to reestablish itself as its own kingdom. It was time to present his clan as the new rulers of this planet. In essence, he was building a royal family, and to do this, it was pertinent that you become his wife. It was well past time now he supposed, the elders on every place they visited always asked him when he would “gotal’ur gar riddur.” Make you a wife. He knew you’d be willing, but what about this whole royalty thing? He had yet to ask wether it was something you wanted. You were clearly well suited to the task, but would you be willing to make that sacrifice? He knew this was coming, the moment he would have to ask you to jump off this cliff with him. It was a steep ask. So, what would your price be? Would it be peace? Space? Freedom? Would your price be to be free of him and his foundling? His son? Would your price for him being a leader, be your separation? Merciful heavens he hopes not. You were headed now to your new home, but if you were to ask it, once you arrived, you would leave in this little ship you’d diligently built into a home, and he would… rebuild. Maker he hopes you stay. He peeks into the bed, and sees you there with his ad, his son. His child you so diligently cared for as your own, even in sleep. You were doing it now, Grogu must have gotten cold, because there he was curled into your side, wrapped in your blanket as well as his own. You had pulled on one of Din’s shirts now as well, but he could see by the way you curled in on the little green bundle of energy, you were seeking the warmth the kid provided without much regard for your own comfort. He huffed a laugh, and pulled a spare blanket from your bunk. You probably forgot it was even there, it having been months since last you needed it, because now when you slept, you were usually tangled up in his blankets, sharing his warmth. He smiled under his helmet at this revelation, and turned back to his little aliit, his family. You breathed softly and one of your hands rested under the ad’ik, his cheek nestled into your palm, his tiny hands were fisted in your sleeve to keep you close as possible. He watched as the child nuzzled down further into you in sleep, his face a momentary grimace, until he scented your perfume and his worries melted. The baby huffed a sigh lightly, and his small snores resumed. How fond he was of you, how much he depended on your presence, kriff, they both do. Why must this be so difficult? It’s not as if he’s actually asking you to jump off a cliff, he was asking you to help run a planet… Nope, still nerve wracking.

“Din?” Kriff it all, he didn’t mean to wake you. You rubbed a hand over

Your tired eyes and squinted at him from the light outside the bunk that was still on.

“Sorry to wake you cyar’ika.” He sighed, pulling your blanket up around your neck. You caught his hand as he went to pull away and began to pull him into the bunk with you. He was thankful he had removed all but his helmet before coming to settle.

“No apologies nessecary my love, I was wondering when you’d come to bed.” You yawned, fondly stroking a finger over his knuckles while he reached to shut the lights off. Once off, he slips out of his shoes, then removed his helmet. The hiss of the seal being broken is always such a terrifying sound, he often found himself spooked even when nobody was around. It’s silly, he knows. Especially because you and the child are the only two people in the world who are technically allowed to look at him, or you will be once he asks you one terrifying question.

“Sorry cyar'ika, I’m here now.” He mutters, nuzzling into your chest with a grunt. You huff a laugh through your nose and smile. He feels the way you tangle your fingers in his hair, relishes in the soft and sweet contact. He turns his face into your palm and he feels how your curious fingers carefully mark out each of his features. He grins, he finds it funny how well your hands know what your eyes have never seen, he can’t wait for you to see him, he can’t wait to gaze into your eyes that always held so much love without the barrier of his visor in the way. To return that loving gaze with his own. He remembers the first time he officially removed his helmet in your presence. It was your birthday. The second one he’d spent with you, the first he’d spent courting you. He remembered tying a blindfold over your eyes and you giggling.

“What are you doing big guy? You gonna take off that helmet and kiss me?” He almost tripped over thin air, because yeah, that’s exactly what this was. You heard the hiss of his helmet seal and gasped, taking that perfect opportunity, he sealed his mouth to yours with ferocity. When you separated, he was amused by the way your hands flapped around excitedly before finally resting on his cheeks. Then the appendages fluttered about excitedly over his features before coming to rest again on his face. You sucked in a deep breath as if to calm yourself and he shook his head with a grin.

“What is it Cyar’ika?” He chuckled, twisting his head to kiss your fingertips.

“I’m just so excited.” You squealed quietly, then timidly your fingers began to dance over his features. Small delicate hands tracing the definition of his eyes, his nose. Giggling at the faint tickle of hair on his upper lip. Your hands were most fascinated by his mouth, your grin growing wider every time his kiss would catch your wrists, or palms, or fingers. “Best gift ever. Oh I can just tell you’re so handsome!” You sighed contentedly, finally letting his face rest in your palm while your other hand softly stroked his cheek. You could feel his muscles flex under your hands as he smiled. It was a perfect moment, now he’s hoping this one will be too.

“What are you thinking about my love?”’you sigh, turning to fully wrap your arms around his neck.

“Come with me a minute. Leave the kid, he’ll be fine.” You sighed and carefully detangled yourself from Grogu’s grasp, and rolled into Din’s awaiting arms. He’s already put his helmet back on, and you smile, bumping your head against his Beskar helmet with a smile as he lifts you out of the bunk. He tried to set you back down and you grumble, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

“No!” You whine, “The floors are too cold.” Din chuckled and shook his head, rewrapping his arms under your legs.

“All that farming, that peace keeping, and work, and you’re still a Princess.” He chuckles.

“I’m no princess.” You scoff, biting the patch of uncovered skin at his shoulder.

“No, I suppose not, but would you want to be a queen?” You tensed up in his arms, then grasping his shoulders, you dropped down to one foot, then the other. Then your piercing gaze met his, and he swore you could see straight through his armor to his very soul. It was uncanny.

“What are you saying metal man?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in his helmet, startling around his ribs causing him to shiver.

“What I’m saying, is I want you to marry me.” He whispers back, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist. There was a long pause then, and it was as if all the time you spent together flashed be fore his eyes.

Memories of you, caring so fondly for his foundling, holding him like his mother used to hold him. Watching fondly as you held the little green child close to your chest with all the care in the world, he never asked you to love him so deeply, it just seemed to pour from your every action. There were memories of you working so diligently on whatever task you set your mind to, solving problems he didn’t even know he had without batting an eye. He pictures you under the dash on the Razor crest, stripping and reworking the controls to be smoother so landings wouldn’t be so bumpy. Reworking the lighting in the hull to be a bit brighter so he wasn’t constantly straining his eyes to see through his dark visor. Polishing his Beskar and tweaking his vambraces to make sure everything ran smoothly. Even more memories flood to mind. Memories of nights holding you as he woke from nightmares of home, of the terrible things he’d done, of loosing this little family he’d come to love so dearly. Memories of the day you met, two bounty hunters against AT-STs, you dropping the bounty on his son immediately when you saw he was just a tiny green boy. You so easily forwent your life, and fit yourself like a puzzle piece into his. All he had done since meeting you, was ask you to make sacrifices, you’d sacrificed your peace on Naboo, your lucrative career as a bounty hunter (very lucrative as you often remind him), your reputation with the guild. Effectively, you sacrificed your safety for his Foundling. You didn’t have to do it, but you did. If the positions were reversed would he have done the same? He didn’t know, but that’s why he needed you. Every time he thought to give up, there you were pushing him to be a better man. A better Mandalorian. Who better to be queen than you?

“Of course I’ll marry you.” He drops to his knees and clutches at your middle, burying his head in your stomach.

“Thank you cyar’ika.” He sighs and all the tension drips away from his body like the leftover pools of a bad dream. “Thank you.”

“Of course! We’ll do it as soon as we get-“ you stop at his giggle and you give one of your own as he stands and presses his helmet to your head. “What is it?”

“We can get married right now.” He chuckles.

“What!?” You gasp, pulling your head back with both hands pressed to the sides of his helmet.

“Yeah, right now. We’re Mandalorians remember? Gotta go fast or you might die.” he chuckles.

“Ok!” You’re positively giddy, “what do we do?” Your eyes look at him with all the love a gaze could hold and he’s so happy.

“Repeats after me.” Vows spoken in a blur, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."—translating as

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors."

Once the Vows were spoken, you stood there, arm in arm, foreheads pressed together, basking in each others happiness.

“Really? That’s it?” You giggle excitedly, hands covering your mouth as if you’ve told him some sort of fantastic secret.

“Yeah! We’re as married as Mandalorians can get! Now that that’s done, here’s the best part.” You gasped as his hands swiftly removed his helmet, while yours flew to cover your eyes with a smack!

“Dank Farik Djarin, what are you-“ you started but he slowly pulled your hands from your eyes.

“Mesh’la were married, you can look now! It’s okay!” He chuckled and you opened your eyes.

“Oh Maker!” You sighed dreamily and he beamed. “Those big brown eyes, the hair, that smile? I’m literally the luckiest woman alive.” Then, you smashed your lips together unceremoniously. It was the best kiss of his life. You were even more beautiful without the barrier in the way, and now he could hold you, and kiss you, and be with you, no Beskar required. It was the happiest day of his life.

“Just wait till we tell the others.” You squealed and he laughed.

“Can’t wait Mesh’la , can’t wait till they find out you’re all mine.”

The next day his rag-tag group of advisors all gathered in the new capitol. They were all sitting around, drinking (those who removed their helmets or didn’t wear them that is) and telling stories.

“So I’ve decided that that grumpy little girl? Her face isn’t just like that. She’s a little Bantha that one.” You chuckled, telling them about a child you’d recently taken a liking to at the Covert. “This group of older kids who just got their helms right, they teased her that morning at Breakfast, and I told them to stop. They went swimming, and that little girl is as stubborn as a Mudhorn, and twice as crafty. While they were swimming, she and her little gang of kids not old enough to start training gathered all their helmets, and carried them off.” You chuckled and leaned further into the group, making sure that most of your body was still pressed against his. He loved when you were like this, so care free and happy, at peace with the little clan you had cobbled together. So comfortable with this little family you’d created. They all hang onto your every word, fondness was evident in their every feature. “I let them go to watch and see what happens, cause that little womp rat has spirit I tell yah! So, she takes all these helmets and plants flowers in every single one. Fills em up with dirt and plants, and leaves them all in a row outside the covert for the boys to find.” He laughs along with the rest at the tale, each of them surely thinking as he is, that perhaps his little family might have just found another addition in this little trouble maker. “So eventually, the older kids all get out and they go to find their shiny new helms all filled with dirt and flowers. So, someone naturally comes and gets Paz, and the Armorer and I. So we all stand there, trying not to laugh, and the armorer says; ‘What is the meaning of this, Twyla?’ And she just says; ‘Sorry ma’am, but I mistook these helmets for buckets, because who would ever give these empty headed Nerf Herders helmets anyway!’ Oh god, I thought I had busted a lung!” All around the room his little family spluttered and laughed and he’d never felt more content.

“Wow, I love that kid.” Bobba Fett chuckled. “So anything else new with you?” He asked casually, and you shot Din a side eyed glance. Welp, no time like the present.

“Nah, mostly just peace keeping and introductions.” He sighed, pulling you close. You nodded and curled into him, hiding your grin in his shoulder so as not to give it away. The others nodded and settled again, but before anyone moved on in the conversation, Din put his handto his Beskar covered chin, and snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s a lie! There was something else about this trip, we got married!” There was a moment of silence about the room, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the look on all their faces was comical.

“No WAY!” Paz was the first to break and once the damn had broken, the joy in the room was palpable. There was celebrating to be done by all, and he was glad that it was you they were celebrating. You were officially his, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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PROMPTS FROM THE MANDALORIAN * assorted dialogue from season 1, episodes 7 and 8

that was a joke.

i think we should go.

this will make you complete.

at least out there, we've got a shot.

i would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration.

i'm out of ideas.

care to double the bet?

i will very much make it worth your while.

hey, stop the boat!

did you know about this?

no no! stop! we're friends!

it seems like a straightforward operation.

this is the lava river.

it means more to me than you will ever know.

i have one more gift for your journey.

the minute we open the door, we're dead.

i'm not gonna make it.

i don't know. i've been advised to lay low.

they must know we're coming.

hey, i'm talking to you! i said stop!

yet somehow you walk free.

you know how it is.

i guess we can call it even.

should we offer that thing some water?

are we gonna keep talking or are we gonna get out of here?

i'm afraid i have more pressing matters at hand.

show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.

you wish me to train this thing?

i'm shooting my way out of here.

you may wanna check again.

we're still moving.

i've seen otherwise.

i'm already free of worry, and i'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore.

we should at least discuss an escape plan.

i haven't heard that name spoken since i was a child.

if you're asking if you can trust me, you cannot.

i would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.

i will act in my own self-interest.

this is unacceptable.

you may think you have some idea what you are in possession of. but you do not.

let's go over the plan again.

do you trust me?

you just wanna look at it.

i'm not hungry.

looks old. will it take the heat?

there is nothing to be sad about.

that's not good enough.

i can no longer carry this for you.

listen, you're not going anywhere.

we're getting close. saddle up.

did you do this? did you?

i can hold them back long enough for you to escape.

i will have no choice but to kill you.

we can make it.

at least cover your tattoo. no need to flaunt it.

get me close to him and i'll kill him.

would anyone care for some tea?

really? that could be a problem.

looks like we fight.

that's a go to proceed, but i advise you to double check.

it is meant to put you at ease.

thank you. i will wear this with honor.

i need to remove your helmet if i am to save you.

we need you.

if we can get down there, they can help us escape.

some of my favorite people are bounty hunters.

i'm not... sad.

i don't have a choice.

that's a good idea.

i don't care to find out.

what is that thing, anyway?

it was left behind in the wake of your destruction.

well, then what do you suggest? 'cause i can't surrender.

did any survive?

you got a better idea?

we need you.

i'm coming with you.

the plan was to kill you.

you have no choice.

who is this guy?

it is a shame that your people suffered so.

it looks helpless.

i get that point. do you get the point?

what did you do?

let's get the hell out of here.

you might be surprised to hear this, but i am alive too.

i will eliminate any enemy and you will escape.

what do you propose?

any update yet?

watch your feet.

i see nothing but death and chaos.

i've run into some problems.

you have something i want.

that's easy for you to say.

come with us.

i'm not gonna make it and you know it.

this is our only path out. can you clear it?

i won't leave you.

you don't have that kind of firepower.

i will not abandon this place until i have salvaged what remains.

you're staying here?

is there another way out?

he's trying to eat me.

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burnwater13 · 6 months

Text

Grogu looked around his room and sighed. Where had he put the little silver knob? He’d had with him the day before. He’d ever shown it to Peli and Fennec and Greef Karga and IG-11 and even Luke. He was really proud of the last piece of the Razor Crest and was sure its presence was why he hadn’t gone ‘Full Sith’ after he and his dad had accidentally picked up that piece of whatever it was from the old Imp base.

Luke had said the whateveritwas had actually been a bone, covered in hardened lava from one of the clones in that lab. Creepy and yuck. Grogu still wasn’t sure how that had ended up in his pockets. Maybe he had just rested his hand against the walls of the caves as they made their way through it and picked it up without thinking?

His dad had thought that was pretty likely, given all the miscellaneous stuff he pulled out of Grogu’s coverall pockets at the end of any given day. Rocks, string, desiccated frogs, buttons. You name it and Grogu had probably picked it up at some point.

That was probably how the Mandalorian had ended up with it. It had been laundry day among many other things as they had been preparing for the Mudhorn Clan Festival. Who knew something like an old Sith bone could affect you that way? Other than Luke and Fennec of course. They knew.

Grogu understood why Luke knew stuff like that. He had been taking self-guided lessons in Jedi lore, history, use of the Force, and all that kind of thing. Grogu had been impressed because the Jedi hadn’t really been fond of self paced education. As a youngling you had to attend classes, perform duties and chores, undergo tests and trials, and then, if you were lucky, one of the various Jedi who instructed you or knew your instructors would stop by and say something like, ‘Hey, you, yah, you. I need a padawan. My last one’s in the infirmary and won’t be out and about again for a while’. Or words to that affect. At least that’s what his friend Ian told him and Ian was a pretty reliable source of information.

But while Luke might be the exception that proved the rule, Grogu had no idea how it was that Fennec Shand understood all that stuff. His dad called her an assassin, but she described herself as a ‘fixer’. You’ve got a problem and for the right number of credits, Fennec would fix it for you. Peli had joked that Fennec refused to tell her how much it would cost to get that Jawa ex-boyfriend of hers to stop calling her, so she wouldn’t fix just anything. Fennec had said watching Peli try to dodge the Jawa was priceless and then cackled in glee.

It was true that Fennec Shand didn’t just laugh or giggle or straight up smile at things. She cackled. She grimaced. She raised on eyebrow and gave you a look. Ohhh. Maybe she was a Sith! That would explain how she knew so much about them. Only one way to find out.

Grogu found Fennec sitting by the remnants of the campfire, poking it with a stick.

“Hey kid, looking for a new way to almost freak your dad out?”

She was giving him that smile that wasn’t really a smile. He shook his head ‘no’.

“Oh. Well then how can I help you?”

Grogu walked over to the split log she was sitting on and hopped up onto it and sat next to her.

“What, you wanted to sit in some shade?”

She didn’t quite cackle when she said that but she sort of did.

Grogu began to coo and sign and grumble his question to her.

This time she actually smiled as she shook her head.

“Kid, what you have to understand is that in my line of work I have to know about a lot of different things. The problems I ‘fix’, well they aren’t easy. They know someone’s coming after them and they do whatever they can to not get fixed, like hiding or running away, or spending all their time standing next to someone they think might scare me. But I don’t scare easy, kid.”

Grogu could believe that. Fennec wasn’t afraid of his dad, that was for certain.

“So maybe, once or twice, I had to study who the Emperor was and how he got that way, which also meant I ended up studying the Sith and who they were and how they got that way. It’s not light reading and I don’t recommend to anyone. Not even your friend, the Jedi. Your dad might find it instructive. Mandalorians and Sith aren’t that different. That may be why that little relic didn’t affect your dad as much as it affected you.”

Grogu stared up at Fennec, because he was annoyed that she had also made that sort of comparison between how Sith behaved and how the Mandalorians had once done things. There was a reason the Jedi had always been fighting both groups.

“Or… it could be that your dad didn’t have this in his pocket”.

Fennec held up the silver ball for Grogu to see and then handed it him.

“You know, that’s not a standard part to a Razor Crest. That’s actually a hilt knob from the lightsaber. I haven’t tracked down which lightsaber it came from yet, but I’m pretty sure that Jedi would be glad that you care for it now. I found it here on the bench, so don’t go running after any crazy ideas that I used the Force to take from your room. The Force doesn’t work that way and we both know it.”

Then Fennec ruffled his hair and walked toward her ship. Grogu hoped that she wasn’t leaving yet. Maybe she needed a padawan… he was sure that Luke’s self-guided study program would be improved by working with a Master.

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

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ignorantarmiesclashbynight · 1 year

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Oh, this is fun.

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Thanks @goldheartedchaoticdisaster for the tag!

1. Integrity Compromised - The Mandalorian

It was Greef who recommended her. Of course he ‘knew a guy’. Or woman, in this case.

“An engineer of extraordinary talent,” Greef had said over the holo-com. And she would have to be, if she was going to be able to handle Mandalorian armour.

2. Loyalty, Divided - Uncharted

“Let’s try this again,” Sully said, stretching his hand across the table. “Victor Sullivan. My friends call me Sully.”

The kid smiled a little at that.

Friends. Don't suppose he has a whole lot of those right now.

3. Brothers and Sons - Red Dead Redemption 2

He watched his daddy hang.

A part of him hoped the old man would end with some kind of pride. Show some spine. Jut his chin at the sky and meet his maker like a man. But the bastard was whimpering by the end.

4. On the Road - The Last of Us

“Your watch is broken.”

She points it out as if he hasn’t noticed.

He almost laughs. Snorts air out his nose, but doesn’t bother to reply. There’d be no way to explain it even if he did. The watch’s face is cracked and the battery died long ago, but it would be like losing a limb to take it off. Some days the weight of it is all that keeps him in the world.

5. The Last Strand - Death Stranding

There’s so much he needs to tell her. So much he’s gonna have to teach her. But what the hell does he know? And where does he even begin?

He starts with the alphabet because even though she can’t speak and doesn’t even know what the fuck a letter is, he figures it’s a fundamental thing you’re meant to teach kids and she seems to like the rhythm and recitation of it as he walks.

6. Red Dead Whumptober - Red Dead Redemption 2

The wire sliced into his skin like a snakebite, its barbs latching on and pulling tight into the flesh of his thigh, his side, his arm, ripping tears into his brand new shirt and all. Dutch’d given him that shirt just last week and he’d be givin’ him an earful for bleeding all over it, too.

7. The Longest Dark - The Mandalorian

He did the math without really thinking. His navi-computer was programmed to sync with the Galactic Standard Calendar, based on the Coruscant solar system, but a little conversion in his head and suddenly the date, and its significance, was embedded in his thoughts.

He tried to shake it off. Nostalgia served very little purpose except to distract you from the present, and besides, there was no one to share it with, so what did it matter?

8. Babysitting Cassie - Uncharted

Sam fidgeted at the front door, listening to the various noises of family life behind it. Little running feet; Nathan’s voice raised in a teasing kind of threat; that big dumb dog of theirs, barking its big dumb head off; Elena yelling at them all to stop fooling around, then giggling as she presumably got caught up in whatever game they were playing.

9. A Normal Life - Uncharted

“Look, kiddo. I’d rather do a lot of things than eat my vegetables but you gotta do it,” Sam sighed, as Cassie pouted over her plate.

“They’re mushy.”

“They are cooked to perfection you tiny Gordon Ramsay.”

The pout deepened. “I’m not a gord-damn namsy!”

10. Blood Brothers - Uncharted

Head for the lighthouse.

They were so close. Sam could see the top of the dilapidated tower jutting up above the cliffside. They were gonna make it. Of course they were. It’s what they did – scrambling and half-assing their way through situations that should have been the end of them. If the Drake brothers had a business card, By The Skin Of Our Teeth would be their tagline.

I have no idea who to tag because I am terrible at who the heck is who on here and Ao3 so if you wanna take this and RB please do!

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apocketfullofstones · 1 year

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The Mandalorian s3 e1 & 2 Review

Just some articulated thoughts about chapters 17 and 18 because I have opinions.

Spoiler Alert!!!

The first two episodes of The Mandalorian season 3 have both been a flop so far. First off, episode one just carried on from where Boba Fett's show left off with absolutely no explanation as to why or how Grogu is back with Din for the viewers who maybe didn't watch TBoBF, which is fucking annoying because it forces people to watch something they might not have been interested in in the first place.

Secondly, they should have of built up to Din going to Mandalore and getting some character development where he realizes that there is more to his life than just blindly following his covert's beliefs. And that life-altering epiphany along with his reunion with Grogu, learning how to properly wield the dark saber, and reaching the planet that was razed to the ground (depending on his decision on whether or not to rejoin the covert) should've been the overarching storyline. Instead we get to start off episode two with Din arriving at the desolate planet with Grogu in tow.

And don't even get me started on the sudden inclusion of Bo-Katan as Din's trusty sidekick. You know, the woman who joined an extremist group that was pretty open about their plan to assassinate the ruler of Mandalor -which was her sister at the time- just because they didn't like that she was a pacifist. The very same woman who wants the dark saber, not because she's selflessly trying to rebuild her people, their home, and their culture, but because she's selfishly after power. The woman who would happily slit Din's throat in a heartbeat if it meant that she could have the dark saber. That Bo-Katan? Yeah, okay. Needless to say, I'm finding the "new best friend" Bo-Katan storyline a hard pill to swallow.

Also can we acknowledge that Din falling like he did while bathing in the living waters was fucking dumb. I tried to rationalize it, giving him the benefit of the doubt by writing it off as him just being woozy from blood loss and not noticing the drop off. But even then, that doesn't explain why he plummeted so far, so ridiculously fast. It's because his armor is heavy!!! I can hear you typing furiously. But, you're wrong. We've seen in the previous season that the armor that Din wears is not actually that heavy. Like on the ship in s2e3 "The Heiress" he dives into the water and then is able to swim to the surface, treading water and holding onto the bars. The point is, he didn't sink. And he should have immediately went straight to the bottom of the hold after diving into the water if we were to believe that the beskar is really that heavy. Basically what I'm trying to say is that they are already retconning shit they've established just to hit these lame story beats instead of just writing the scene in a way that is loyal to the rules they've set in previous seasons and it's only the third season.

I fear that it can only get worse from here.

Oh! And I recently watched a short on YouTube that put some things into perspective about the choices that were made regarding the entire show. Apparently seasons 1 and 2 were filmed pretty much back-to-back, so while s1 was just airing, they were already well into shooting s2. So that means that the showrunners had no idea how big Grogu was going to get, which is why he was always handed off to someone else or left on the ship/in the pram and had very limited screentime in both season 1 and 2. It also explains the horribly rushed reunion because it is my belief that it was the writers original intention to write Grogu off the show at the end of season 2 by sending him away with Luke (and they would only bring him back as a cameo or something along those lines).

But with "Baby Yoda's" sudden internet popularity, they had to basically abandon their initial goal in order to keep their tiny, adorable cash cow (affectionate). If this theory of mine were true, it would also explain why Grogu's inclusion in s3 so far has been a bit awkward, like the writers aren't quite sure what to do with him and they just wrote him into scenes simply for him to be there. Because to me it felt like Bo-Katan was supposed to have accompanied Din to Mandalore from the jump, but then they had to change the script so that Grogu could do something other than just sit in his pram and look cute the entire time (like going to fetch Bo-Katan when Din is put out of commission). That would also make the pacing issues of episode 2 make sense cause it definitely took a while for Grogu to fly to Bo-Katan's castle (I doubt that she was less then an hour away) and the villain just so happened to wait to start up the machine to drain Din of blood until Grogu made the trip there and back? Yeah, no.

Also, I refuse to believe that Grogu couldn't help Din escape with his "force powers" at this point (take for example his feats in TBoBF), so him not even really trying was just a poorly disguised plot device to get Bo-Katan involved. And the minute that the audience notices that the plot is driving the characters, and not the other way around, the cracks start to become visible, breaking the immersion and making the show unenjoyable to watch because then fans (like me) are just gonna start picking apart everything that's wrong with the story.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandalorian s3 #chapter 17 “The Apostate”#chapter 18 “The Mines of Mandalore”#episode tag #episode review #the mandalorian critical #review #din djarin #grogu #baby yoda

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moncuries · 1 year

Note

Where to start if you wanna dive in the star wars universe for the first time?

a question i am well-equipped to answer! *star wars fans who have their own opinions please see the disclaimer at the end

I would personally begin with the original trilogy of movies. they are meant to introduce the viewer to the universe + canon. i love them, they're old though so for people without a nostalgia factor, you just gotta accept it. (do not come for me for saying this! It held up well)

after that, i'd hop into the Mandalorian. It fits the timeline well and is a very casual watch with many settings. it gives you a great idea of the galaxy and doesn't bog you down with too much at once. it's also ongoing so there's a lot of fanwork being produced currently + excitement.

from there, the world is your oyster! we live in a time where there is an abundance of content for you to explore. probably best to watch the rest of the movies first though.

*Disclaimer for star wars fans. this is NOT a list of the "best" or most entertaining star wars content. this is purely based on how accessible it is for new viewers. this is how I've introduced it to many of my friends; it works! you may have a different pov, feel free to reply!

#im worried someone is going to yell at me for being wrong but this is truly my opinion :D #star wars

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fahrni · 3 months

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Another week and month in the books. We’ve crossed into February and Punxsutawney Phil says six more weeks of winter. I’m ok with that. Coffees ready, let’s get going.

MARK KENNEDY • Yahoo

Carl Weathers, linebacker-turned-actor who starred in ‘Rocky’ movies and ‘The Mandalorian,’ dies

I remember seeing Rocky as a kid and I didn’t much like Apollo Creed. He was arrogant, cocky, and besides, the star of the show was Rocky, the underdog. Of course they eventually became friends and I liked him then.

I loved him as Al Dillon in Preditor and as Chubbs in Happy Gilmore.

R.I.P.

Amanda Richards • Netflix

NASCAR: Full Speed Is Coming to Your Screen at 200 Miles per Hour

I blew through the five episode season in a couple days. Why’d they only order up five episodes in the first season? I mean, F1: Drive to Survive has had 10 episode since season 1.

They focused on the playoffs but they could’ve done more leading into the playoffs. It’s a long season full of drama and I wanted more.

Overall it was really good and I hope we get a full 10 episodes in season 2.

Pkl

Define all your data in Pkl, and generate output for JSON, YAML, Property Lists, and other configuration formats.

Pkl is an Apple project. They’re trying to become a services company and having a better means of managing things sounds like a good idea.

It’s odd to see Apple using Java and Kotlin for this but it does make sense given it’s meant to be portable to different platforms. And by different platforms I mean actual different platforms like Linux, Windows, and Mac. Not Mac, iPhone, and iPad. 😄

Jason Parham • WIRED

Black Twitter Remains Unbothered in Elon Musk’s X

I’ve seen folks on Mastodon talking about how difficult it is for Black Mastodon to get started.

When I setup Curmudgeon Cafe there was a large contingent — and still is — of LGBTQ+ instances.

If memory serves it was more a matter of discoverability.

I’d love to see multiple BIPOC instances spring. We need more diversity, not less.

Miguel de Icaza • blog.la-terminal.net

My current effort is slightly different: how to build a native iPadOS (and hopefully VisionOS) experience for Godot. So rather than rewriting the existing Editor codebase with Swift, this effort is about making a SwiftUI on top of the existing Editor.

I don’t keep up with Godot but I do keep up with Miguel. It’ll be fun to watch his effort evolve into a finished product.

Robert Downen • Texas Tribune

Texas' standoff with the feds in Eagle Pass is igniting calls for secession and fears of violence

The MAGA crazed are ready for war and his orangeness is egging them on. Not only that he’s actively working with leaders in the House and Senate to blow up a bipartisan bill that would be the best deal the GOP has seen on the border. All to get that orange dumbass re-elected.

David Nield • Lifehacker

It’s 2024, and I’m here to extol the virtues of using an RSS reader.

Of course everyone should use an RSS reader! Might I recommend Stream for iOS? 😘

Yes, yes, it’s my app, but you should give it a try and if you like it, please, leave me a tip. 🙏🏼

Tim Hardwick • MacRumors

NHS App users in England can now collect medication from a pharmacy without having to visit a GP or health center, according to NHS Digital.

Man oh man would I love to have a national healthcare system that’s fully integrated and lets me manage how I interact with doctors and other healthcare providers.

I’d like it to work like Facebook. Doctors should invite me to join, or I invite them to join, my medical record.

American Healthcare is still stuck in the past. I’d love to see it fixed.

Nick Barclay • The Verge

Spotify accuses Apple of ‘extortion’ with new App Store tax

Spotify and others didn’t get what they really wanted. They don’t want to pay a single cent to Apple. Which from a business perspective makes perfect sense.

Guess we’ll see what the law says.

Aki Ito • Business Insider

In the two years I’ve been writing about Americans' changing relationship to work, there’s one theme that’s come up over and over again: loyalty. Whether my stories are about quiet quitting, or job-hopping, or leveraging a job offer from a competitor to force your boss to give you a raise, readers seem to divide into two groups.

There are so many factors to loyalty. The true believers exist and they have little to fear. Then there are the masses who quietly do their jobs and aren’t really seen.

We had a layoff at work last May and it destroyed morale, destroyed the company culture, and left loyalty at an all time low.

I hate to be so cynical but companies aren’t there for you. They’re there to make profit. Loyalty from the company only extends so far to the employee.

I still love my job and work hard at it everyday but I fear being laid off.

Jakub Porzycki • The Verge

Microsoft says Apple’s new App Store rules are ‘a step in the wrong direction’

Of course they think it’s going in the wrong direction! They’re a huge corporation in the business of selling software. They don’t want to hand any of it over to Apple.

Epic’s Tim Sweeney referred to it as “Malicious Compliance.”

Get out the popcorn! 🍿

Vadim Kravcenko

New libraries. New languages. New Frameworks. New Intern coming in and thinking he can rewrite better parts of the code himself. It’s easy to get swept away. But is the newest framework always the best choice? Is a rewrite really going to make everything better? Or is there wisdom in the code that has been around for years, has been tested with crazy edge cases, and has evolved together with the business?

I understand why folks are tempted to rewrite thing, I really do. When I wasn’t a dinosaur of a developer I hand that tendency. “I can make this better”, my brain would say. Sure, there’s occasion to “turn the soil” once in a while and I believe that’s good for a code base. But a full rewrite? No. 🌹

Nikita Prokopov

As you can see, even the checkmark wasn’t always there. But one thing remained constant: checkboxes were square.

A square checkbox is something us old timers are accustomed to seeing and changes can be confusing.

The Vision Pro’s checkboxes are confusing but I kind of like UIKit’s toggles as long as you don’t go crazy styling them. 😃

Nilay Patel • The Verge

It sounds amazing, and sometimes it is. But the Vision Pro also represents a series of really big tradeoffs — tradeoffs that are impossible to ignore. Some of those tradeoffs are very tangible: getting all this tech in a headset means there’s a lot of weight on your face, so Apple chose to use an external battery pack connected by a cable. But there are other, more philosophical tradeoffs as well.

I think Nilay did a great job balancing his review of Vision Pro.

It’s a great start but has a really long way to go as a general computing device. That’s my opinion having never used one.

I really believe we’ll get a sense for how we should be using it if we see pictures of Apple Executives wearing it daily to do their jobs. I kind of doubt we’ll see that for anything other than articles written about it.

The iPhone, Watch, and AirPods are devices those same executives probably use everyday. I just can’t see them using Vision Pro as much.

When/if they’re ever able to make them look like regular glasses and they cost around $500-800 I’d consider wearing them all the time. Until then they’re way too expensive for my blood. I would rather spend that kind of green on a new MacBook Pro.

Will Stream support Vision Pro? I think so. I have no idea when, but I think it will.

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irlkenku · 3 years

Text

My friend said "what if the darksaber was evil and made Din haunted, but also what if Boba was just kinda chill with it"

inspired by this comment from @keldabekush

and the AU was created by @kyberpistol

boba ref here bc it made me laugh

#I SHOULDNT HAVE SAID MANDO SERVER #WHOOPS SORRY YALL I WAS JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE EXPLANATION SHORT #I MEANT ‘an idea from my friends who have watched the mandalorian’#the mandolarian #din djarin #boba fett #bobadin #dins haunted #or the darksaber has haunted din #the discord keeps trying to make it angsty but i refuse #din can have a little evil energy as a treat and his boyfriend boba loves him anyway #im imagining it more like Duck and Beacon from Taz Amnesty rather than fucked up and traumatising #stef talks #oh god i dont remember what my drawing tag is sjkhfas oops #my art #maybe???#anyway go look at Kush's haunted Din drawings #and Terra's at kkrazy256 #just check out the dins haunted tag for the rest of this bullshit #ALSO BC I FORGOT WHO CAME UP WITH THE OG IDEA #CREDIT FOR THE AU GOES TO KYLE AT kyberpistol ON TUMBLR #SHES A GENIUS AND SAYS THE BEST STUFF #i love her

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart.

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian.

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet.

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick.

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart.

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you.

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you.

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls.

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb.

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now.

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work.

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him.

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again.

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him.

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too.

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back.

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him.

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you.

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on.

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal.

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety.

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words.

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it.

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone.

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off.

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him.

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention.

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease.

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying.

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word.

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now.

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him.

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut.

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant.

“Din I...I never saw you.”

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet.

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly.

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent.

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off.

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head.

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again.

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing.

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease.

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment.

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots.

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips.

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted.

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him.

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days.

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips.

“You’re...beautiful.”

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach.

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you.

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams.

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him.

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own.

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-”

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations.

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing.

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking.

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing.

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands.

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath.

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting.

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another.

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around.

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking.

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted.

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy.

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub.

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth.

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering.

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back.

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist.

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it.

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips.

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest.

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his.

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away.

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you.

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms.

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet.

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence.

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted.

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move.

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again.

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him.

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you.

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again.

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving.

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-”

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly.

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you.

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more.

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words.

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that.

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side.

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth.

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze.

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night.

Ner kar'ta - my heart

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

Jangobi 5 for the soulmate thing? Because that would make the fight on kamino just *chef's kiss*

soulmate au prompts

5. the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them.

Apparently there’s never any skin to skin contact in the movie? Because armor? So......... we’re gonna just. Quick little thing.

Also I’ve been doing a lot of “marginally less shitty” Jango, but this is just-as-shitty-as-canon Jango. It’s, uh, not much of a romance, because Kamino. Actually it’s mostly just a lot of angry yelling about human rights violations.

...I’m sure they’ll get together eventually. It’s just, you know... it’s going to take a while.

------

Jango’s heard about this Jedi.

The man isn’t famous, or particularly acclaimed. It’s just that Mandalorians gossip, and Death Watch isn’t exempt, and Dred Priest still has friends in the terrorist group. So do a few others.

(Jango sometimes wonders if he’d have invited Priest, had he knows the monster was only a step away from being Death Watch himself.)

(Probably not.)

(He’d at least have been able to see the battle circles coming.)

Death Watch hates one specific Jedi above all others: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It’s almost enough to make a man like the pretty bastard, except the reason Death Watch hates this specific Jedi is because he kept Duchess Kryze alive, and Jango isn’t much of a fan of hers, either.

In the moment, though, the main thing this all means is that Obi-Wan Kenobi knows Mandalorian customs.

First meetings, out of armor, mean ensuring the arm clasp has skin contact.

His eyes flick down to where Jango is reflexively pulling up his sleeves, and the man just... does the same, sodden as the beige-on-brown-on-dark-brown robes are.

Jango can’t just play it off. He has to, ugh, arm clasp with a Jedi.

Kenobi probably guesses how unpleasant this is for him, going by the grim little smile that he wears, the one Taun We can’t read and Jango can, but they touch forearms and le--

They do not let go.

“Oh kriff,” Kenobi swears, and then it’s just... it’s too late. It’s too late to stop anything.

“Jetii,” Jango spits as if it’s a swear.

He doesn’t want to be soulmates with a Jedi. No sane person ever wants to be soulmates with a Jedi, but as a Mandalorian, and as specifically Jango Fett, who signed onto this project for revenge against Jedi, the idea is just... excruciating.

“For revenge? Not entirely unexpected, but I’m still somehow disappointed.”

“Stay out of my head.”

Kenobi smiles at him, completely devoid of anything but the blackest of humor. “Are you staying out of mine?”

And, well, no. They’re soulmates. Kenobi has more of an idea on how to control how far his mind wanders into Jango’s, but in this moment, just seconds after being bound together by the universe... Jango’s slamming into Kenobi’s shields with an embarrassing lack of control.

“Is something the matter?” Taun We asks.

“I do believe we need to speak alone,” Kenobi says. “Unfortunate timing, but this is our first meeting, and it appears we are soulmates.”

“Ah. We were informed of the human tendency towards such.” She blinks, too large eyes impossible to read for Kenobi, but entirely readable for Jango after all these years. She’s irritated. “I apologize, but it appears we were unable to remove such unpredictability from the product.”

A wave of revulsion leaks out of Kenobi’s mind and into Jango’s. The man just nods. “I understand. As it is, I imagine that the near instantaneous communication on the battlefield will be a boon, if any are bonded to each other or to active soldiers.”

“I defer to your judgement as client, Master Kenobi,” Taun We hums, still irritable. It’s less visible in her face, but... Kenobi can feel it. “I shall leave you to get... acquainted.”

Aaaaaaaand she’s expecting them to sleep together the second she turns her back. The disgust she feels at the thought of such carnal activities is thirdhand to Jango, but he can still feel it, because Kenobi can feel it, because they’re soulmates.

“Oh, do tell me how you really feel,” Kenobi mutters, sweeping past him into the apartment.

Jango wishes he could slam the door as he storms after the Jedi.

“Listen here--”

“Absolutely not,” Kenobi says, with the kind of bland, impersonal smile that Jango’s heard Dred Priest bitch about at least a dozen times. “I need you to answer me this: why are you selling your children into what is clearly slavery?”

“They’re not my children.”

“You choose to be dar’buir, then?” Kenobi clucks a tongue, acting like he can’t even feel Jango’s waves of hate that are just growing by the second. “Shame on you, Mand’alor.”

“I am not the Mand’alor.”

“No. You are demagolka,” Kenobi says, the sweet words of Jango’s first language falling from his lips like poisoned honey. “They are your children, Fett. Your clones, just as human as you.”

“They are little more than droids, Jedi. The Kaminoans--”

Kenobi laughs, sharp and bitter, and it’s enough of a surprise that Jango stops talking. The Jedi strides closer, and it takes everything in him to not step back at what little emotion the Jedi allows through.

“Let me show you,” Kenobi hisses, putting a hand on either side of Jango’s head and it’s too much this is not a sense he is meant to have.

Kenobi cannot lie to Jango, not in this mental space. Not in this existence. He can cherry-pick what he shows, he can exaggerate, he can hide, but he cannot present a falsehood.

What Kenobi shows him, as he pulls Jango into his mind and drowns him in the sensation of the Force, is how each and every clone shines, bright and unique and so very human, so very sentient, so very alive.

These are your children, Kenobi says, directly into his mind and with no room to pull away. If they choose to disown you for your crimes against them, then that is their right, but until they do, they are your responsibility. You’re playing in denial and cognitive dissonance, soulmate mine. If I have to drag you into caring for your children the way any Mandalorian would, then so be it.

“Kriff off,” Jango manages to grit out in the real world. Kenobi looks unimpressed, when he lets go. The sensations in Jango’s mind, the jangled distaste and horror and anger, those are worse.

“Are you going to be dar’manda?” Kenobi demands. “You, who were once king of your people, have you really sunk so low to be the worst of your kind? To be so horrible that even Kyr’tsad would be shamed? Or worse, approve?”

“You have no place--”

“You are violating one of the core tenets of your culture!” Kenobi shouts. “You are being the worst of what you could be, Jango Fett! The most important, the absolute most important element of your culture, the care and nurture of children, and look at what you’ve done--”

“The clones--”

“Your sons!” Kenobi growls at him. “Your children, Fett. I’ve a student that is, by every Mandalorian standard, my son. I know what it is to take in a child that is not yours by blood, to raise a foundling, and you are cutting off millions that are your blood. You aren’t turning away an orphan to another family because you cannot care for them as they deserve, you are breeding your children for war like bantha to slaughter.”

Jango throws the first punch.

Kenobi throws the second.

By the time the fight ends, the room is in ruins, for all that they do not draw blasters or sabers. Kenobi has Jango on his back, straddling his chest with knees on his wrists, a vibroblade to his neck. Kenobi’s lip is bleeding, and Jango thinks he might have caused a hairline fracture in the cheekbone. Both of them have at least one broken rib, and Jango’s currently blind in one eye from the blood pouring out of a cut on his forehead.

Kenobi’s a good fighter. If it weren’t for everything else, Jango might have even been able to appreciate that.

“You,” Kenobi growls, fisting one hand into Jango’s curls and yanking for emphasis, earning himself a snarl in return. “Are going to fix this mess you’ve helped create. If I have to drag the entire Jedi council, the entire senate, if I have to drag in all of Mandalore to make you fix this, I will.”

There’s determination in those words, angry and a little spiteful, but mostly just... disappointed.

“Of course I’m disappointed,” Kenobi spits out, like the words are hot coals. He’s expressive. Jango wants to like it, but mostly he just resents the trait. “I hoped to never find a soulmate; it just complicates things. Opsec becomes a nightmare and holding to the code is difficult. And now I have a soulmate, and he’s an absolute monster that views his own children as little more than droids.”

“War is going to come for them no matter what,” Jango manages to say, and Kenobi’s look is back to unimpressed. “Don’t pretend you haven’t heard of the separatists. There’s an army of actual droids, metal and code, just waiting for the right moment to pick a fight. It’s too late to stop it.”

“...you’re not only raising an army of your own children, but engineering the war that’s going to kill them?” Kenobi almost screeches, and the wave of nauseous loathing that slams into Jango is almost enough to make him actually vomit. Kenobi didn’t pull punches, not in the actual fight and not in whatever mental battle they’re apparently having via emotions and words.

“I’m not engineering it,” Jango says. “I’m just one part in a bigger machine. I got my payment. The rest is on Tyranus.”

He doesn’t even stop the images from flickering through his mind, throwing the man who hired him under the speeder.

“Master Dooku?” Kenobi whispers, horror growing. “No, no, I killed the--the Sith can’t--I killed the one on Naboo, and the Council mentioned the Rule of Two, but... oh hells.”

“You know him?” Jango taunts.

“He’s my grandmaster,” Kenobi says, and Jango can’t imagine the rest is meant to reach him, but the undercurrent is there.

Count Dooku is, by Mandalorian law, Kenobi’s grandfather.

Jango... suddenly feels a little regret about the taunting.

“I’d rather you feel regret about your children,” Kenobi snaps at him. “Every single one of them is a person, one that you chose to bring into this world, and they are your children.”

The argument is going in circles, but there are still places to take this.

“Your army is all adults, Kenobi,” Jango decides.

“They are ten years old,” Kenobi retorts. “Accelerated aging, sure, but they are children.”

“They’re soldiers.”

Disgust again, the same thing Kenobi has felt every time Jango has reasserted the purpose these children were born to, the same thing Jango has told his son, his sergeants, himself, for over a decade.

“A son?” Kenobi whispers. “Is your denial that strong, Fett? That you would claim one and not the rest?”

“Payment,” Jango says, and lets Kenobi feel the rest, since he seems so karking keen on it.

“Keeping one child in exchange for letting yourself be the creator of a slave army,” Kenobi says, and he doesn’t seem impressed. “Weren’t you a slave? Two years on a spice ship, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare--”

“And you would put your sons in chains,” Kenobi hisses, hands going for Jango’s head again. It’s a sense memory, this time, of dark tunnels and exploding collars and a dar’jetii that... was his older brother. According to the Jedi way of thinking.

It’s a twisting fear and pain and I will die so that others may live while looking at an older man, a Master, who can maybe save the other slaves at the expense of one too-angry Initiate’s li--

“Get out of my head!” Jango roars, and he still can’t move his arms, and his legs are held down by the Force, but he twists his head to bite and Kenobi snatches his hands away.

Kenobi glares down at him, almost sneering with the amount of disdain he has for Jango’s general existence. “I’m your soulmate, and had we met fifteen years ago, I might have even thought that an alright thing... but whatever you are now isn’t something I can abide by. You won’t listen to morality, so let me say this instead: a Jedi does not kill an unarmed opponent, but I have full authority to arrest you, even here. I will take you back to the Republic, to be tried for your collusion with a Sith, and you will go to prison. You can try to run, but I am in your head, and you’re in mine. Once you’re in prison, what happens to your son?”

The implication is there, but even if it wasn’t, Jango hears the thought:

They’re soulmates. The Republic would place Boba with Kenobi.

He refuses to have his child raised by a holier-than-thou Jedi.

“Holiness doesn’t have any meaning in Jedi philosophy,” Kenobi says, relaxing just the slightest bit. “Other religions, yes, but no place in ours.”

“You’re a self-righteous bastard,” Jango says flatly. “Despite threatening a child.”

“You mean threatening to take custody of a child being raised in an unhealthy environment, one where he’s being taught to devalue his brothers, engendering a mental dissonance where he has to convince himself he’s special for a reason and that you won’t just drop him if he fails to be perfect?” Kenobi asks. “I prefer to keep children with guardians who love them, but the argument that he’s better off away from you isn’t a difficult one.”

“Oh, like a child-stealer--”

“My mother tried to drown me when I was a toddler,” Kenobi says, even flatter than Jango had been a minute earlier. “Because I was Force-Sensitive, and it was considered curse on my home planet. A Jedi saved me. Tell me that was a kidnapping and not being saved.”

Jango grinds his teeth. “You’re damned smug whenever you have some sob story that outranks mine.”

“This isn’t about who has the bigger sob story,” Kenobi says, and Jango can feel how he’s just as ready to start clenching his jaw to deal with Jango’s bullshit. “It’s about you doing your damned job as a Mandalorian and a father, and taking responsibility for your children. All three million of them.”

It really, really is a pity they didn’t meet before Jango took this job. They could have been great together.

As it is, Jango goes for the groin shot the second Kenobi lets him back on his feet.

#Jangobi #kinda #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #kamino #slavery mention #child abuse mention #just the usual clone stuff really #Phoenix Answers Memes #Phoenix Posts #sorry this isn't as shippy as people were probably hoping #mostly it's just Obi-Wan being deeply angry #and Jango being chock-full of denial and cognitive dissonance #500 notes

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syn0vial · 3 years

Note

do you by any chance have any more boba facts? 🥺🥺 i love it if you would grace me with your vast boba knowledge 🥰

i’d be happy to oblige, friend! here are some more miscellaneous boba deets, courtesy of the EU/legends 😊

though there are varying portrayals by different authors re: boba’s take on collateral damage, one of my favorites comes from one of the earliest boba fett stories. in it, boba is hunting han solo (of course) some time after the events of the original trilogy, but during the mission, things go awry and a civilian character is mortally wounded by a blaster bolt meant for han. boba, who in this timeline has never killed the wrong target before, proceeds to let han solo run away so he can check on the woman and, once he realizes that she’s too far gone to save, he administers something to ease her passing and kneels by her side, holding her hand until she passes away. it’s a surprisingly tender scene and goes to show that, as ruthless as he is, boba just isn’t willing to let someone die a slow, painful, lonely death for his fuck-up.

speaking of han, as boba gets older, he becomes deeply embarrassed by his “rivalry” with solo as a young man and will insist to anyone who brings it up that it wasn’t a thing and that han just tells everyone they’re “nemeses” for the Drama Of It All

this is infinitely more hilarious if you’ve read early EU work in which boba’s rivalry with han consisted mostly of boba obsessively hunting him while han is like “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING WEIRDO”

speaking of things boba finds embarrassing once he’s older, at one point, he’s trying to verify the legit-ness of someone claiming to be telemetric (able to read memories off of objects), so he gives the man a necklace belonging to another bounty hunter he was romantically involved in as a teenager. boba is very skeptical and not expecting much, until the man starts reciting pick-up lines boba used at the wise old age of 16

cue boba just about dying inside

like, his thoughts are literally just, “OH GOD, IT’S ALL TOO STUPID FOR HIM TO BE MAKING UP ON THE SPOT, HE FUCKING KNOWS”

honestly, they’re less pick-up lines and more just. a very sincere list of reasons he likes this other bounty hunter.

“YOU’RE GOOD AT SHOOTING THINGS. YOU’RE PRETTY??? I TRUST YOU???”

love that apparently boba’s idea of flirting as a teenager was just frantically chucking heartfelt positive statements at someone in no particular order

to his credit, it did work 😂

the lowest amount boba has ever killed someone for is three credits. this happens bc boba is trying to save the son of a clone, connor, from his creditors, initially by offering to pay his debt of half a million credits for him. when the creditor rejects boba’s offer and insists that he’d rather kill connor, connor fishes into his pockets, produces three credits, and goes, “HEY, FETT, I’LL GIVE YOU THREE CREDITS IF YOU KILL THIS ASSHOLE FOR ME” and boba’s like, “u kno what, fuck it” and does just that.

boba in the aftermath of fucking up all the shit, standing next to connor in a room full of dead bodies, including one rancor: “you owe me three credits :/”

okay, now for some cultural stuff, starting with mando’a!

though boba in the mandalorian seems at least able to read mando’a script, in the EU, he doesn’t start to learn mando’a until he’s much older

naturally, some of the first words he picks up are curse words LMAO

man is a stoic, battle-hardened bounty hunter and he still learns languages like a fucking fourth grader

aside from cusses, two words he has particular reactions to are aruetii and ba’buir

aruetii means “outsider” or “non-mandalorian” and boba feels weird and self-conscious using it bc, uh... that... probably includes him in the eyes of most mandalorians, huh?

ba’buir means “grandfather.” in the EU, he does indeed have a granddaughter who calls him this and he becomes quietly attached to the it as a term of address—to the point where, when his granddaughter refers to her grandmother as “ba’buir” as well, boba has a moment of “hey wait, that’s my word >:(”... before remembering that the word can be used for both. GENDERLESS NOUNS, BAY-BEE

boba has... mostly negative feelings about the mandalorian view of the afterlife or the manda. basically, it’s a collective consciousness of every mandalorian who has ever died. non-mandalorians don’t go there bc according to traditional mandalorian belief, non-mandalorians don’t have souls

it’s quite telling that the normally not-very-expressive boba winces when the topic of the manda is brought up. and then when he’s asked what his problem is, he has a whole list of questions/objections to the manda as a concept. what if a mandalorian doesn’t want to go to the manda? do you have to spend eternity having your consciousness mixed with real monsters like tor vizsla and montross (mandalorians associated with death watch responsible for orphaning/betraying boba’s father)? what if you have non-mandalorian family members? are they allowed to come? and if an exception is made for them, why not the rest of the galaxy?

it’s interesting, bc clearly this isn’t a subject boba doesn’t know or care about; he’s obviously thought about it a lot to have all this to say about it. honestly, i wouldn’t be surprised if he put so much thought into it bc it may very well have been the afterlife jango believed in.

also, to end on a lighter note, boba is hilariously bad at all the like... leadership parts of being mand’alor.

there’s one scene where beviin drags him to a town hall meeting and all the other mandalorians are arguing over whether they should involve themselves in the new republic’s conflicts or not and boba’s like, “wow, this is really interesting. let me just quietly listen to all these different points being raised and think about—wait, why is everyone looking at me—oh. oh shit, they’re expecting me to actually say something.”

POOR MAN JUST WANTS TO GO BACK TO THE GOOD OL’ DAYS OF HAVING FOUR LINES ACROSS THREE MOVIES. STOP EXPECTING HIM TO MAKE WORDS 😩

#captainmunroe #boba fett #just a heads-up for future information requests: don't be afraid to ask for specific topics! :)#for example: boba's views on XYZ or instances of boba + theme #i can try and do my best without guidelines but it can be hard for me to decide what people might find interesting #and i'll just fling spaghetti on the wall like i've done here :'D #i hope some of the spaghetti stuck though!

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staygolddindjarin · 3 years

Text

Grief

Chapter two: Rebellion

Din Djarin x Reader x Cassian Andor

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter warnings: some brief angst, this ones pretty mellow ngl

Words: 3.3k

A/n: i was not expecting such a good response from the first chapter but bruh you guys are amazing- anyway here's part two of my brain's misery

Part 2/?

The trip from Mandalore to the planet of Dantooine was long, and still ongoing. We all took turns, watching to see if we were any closer. After each jump from hyperspace, the transport would stop at a space refueling tank, before slowly going onward toward the destination. We must have been traveling several systems across the galaxy. We had a few laughs, mainly while watching Gander try and steal Shyloh's food from his knapsack while he was sleeping. Most of the other time we all just sat in silence, up until this point.

"What do you think we're all going to do once we get to the rebel base?" Merc raised his voice slightly, barely capturing our attentions as we had all been dozing off, and Shyloh was taking watch at the view point.

"What do you mean?" I had asked, not quite sure of what he was getting at. I sat up straighter against the wall, showing my interest in the newfound conversation.

"What branch do you think you'll end up in?" He was in a daze as he spoke, almost unsure of his intentions of bringing it up. His dark eyes were nearly emotionless under his furrowed brow.

"I hadn't really thought about it. I would say maybe something like mechanics," I said, thinking of the best possible use of my talents. I'm sure there's plenty of mechanical help already assisting the rebels, but with the galactic empire growing it's forces by the day, they needed all the help they could get.

"What about flying?" Shyloh perked up from his seat at the window.

"What about it?" I asked, curious as to why he suddenly thought of the new topic.

"You could do it of you wanted to. Be a pilot, I mean. You have the skills," He told me, but I scoffed. He wasn't in any way shape or form was making an ounce of sense at all.

"Speeder control races are a bit different from piloting fighters against the imperial troops don't you think?" I laughed at the idea, but he rolled his eyes, persistent with his opinion.

"It's less different than you think it is. Also mind you, I never saw you lose a race," He objected, but I wasn't having any of it.

"That's because when I raced, my own credits were on the line," I joked, seeing what he would try and come up with next, only to be met with a cold hard stare, before an answer that would shake me to my core.

"Well, now the freedom of the galaxy is on the line."

My smile dropped from my face and I turned to face the other two, who were looking back at me. They didn't expect that answer either. Shyloh was well known to be a boy of few words, and only really spoke to his friends and family. He was a founding just like the rest of them, but he had been with ths clan longer, due to having been saved from a war infested home as a baby.

He could sometimes be very wise, even if he didn't think he was being so. We weren't sure what it was, but he had this sort of presense that was so powerful. We knew when he would walk in a room, or walk out of it. It's like the air would change. Much like it changed now, with his words rendering us all speechless.

The silence was uncomfortable, and I was the one who left it unresloved, so I spoke up in favor of my crewmates to not keep quiet any longer.

"Perhaps I shall see where I am needed first."

"Perhaps you shouldn't be so afraid to explore an option you would excel in," He again rendered me speechless, and I did not have anything else to say this time. I was young, but my mind was not. I could comprehend thoughts the same way that an adult could. I could handle things just as well and if not better than some, too. He was right. I was simply afraid.

"I think we're finally here," Shyloh said, turning back to look out of the view port again.

"Its about time," Gander stood up, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and standing at the transport door waiting for it to slide up.

We all followed suit, but Shyloh stopped us and held up a warning finger to stay still.

"There's manding droids, we gotta sneak off carefully. They don't look like bulk but they could be armed," He suggested. We were not yet at the rebel base, meaning these were probably droids of the land, and belonged to whoever oversees the exports on this planet.

When the panel opened, we were all careful to first peek out of the transport. This planet was nothing at all like Mandalore, which was dry and hot. This planet was lush with plants. And the air was slightly humid. It was a very welcome contrast from where I spent most of my life.

We all sneakily bolted out of the transport, ducking down behind one of the cargo units placed outside. We saw an opening in what looked like some sort of forrest patch.

There was a chill in the air on this planet, even in the middle of the day. Mandalore only ever got colder at night, when the sun was down and the moons were shining.

"That was close." Merc mumbled as we began to turn around and head into the grasslands, trying to find the rebel base.

We made sure no one was behind us, and were careful to check if any droids had caught sight of us.

We all went to turn around, but as soon as I did, I collided with someone's chest, rather hard might I add, sending me to the ground on my bottom. I didn't even collide that hard with the person, it was just the shock that sent me backwards.

"Need a hand?" I looked up to see a man, a sly smirk on his face as he held his hand out towards me. I took it without question, heaving myself up from the grassy, and somewhat muddy ground beneath me.

"You must be our contact," Merc smiled, and the man nodded, turning and begining to lead us to a speader that was hovering nearby behind a large set of trees.

"We must be careful not to use names outside of the base. I would be more than happy to formally introduce myself once we reach our final destination," He chuckled. It was only now that I realized he had an accent, a thick one. Probably left over from his native tongue that spilled out his mouth when he spoke galactic basic.

I know that sometimes my accent slips in when i speak. I never had to worry about using Mando'a around my fellow crewmates. They were foundlings, and hadn't been raised to speak it. Shyloh was, but he prefered to use galactic basic anyways because he had forgotten so much of it.

We all boarded the speader, Gander and I sitting on the back, our legs hanging off as we held onto the side bars.

"This might be a bumpy ride for you two," The man said, looking at both of us before giving me a wink. I scrunched my face up, not sure how else to react to it. The man was definitely on the younger side, but I wasn't sure how he could possibly see an interest in me.

Maybe he did and I just didn't want him to. Maybe I was still hinged to the idea that I would go back to Mandalore someday and marry my betrothed. I was so young, and hadn't the slightest idea of what feelings I could possibly be harboring, if any at all.

I couldn't deny I found him appealing. Anyone would, at least any human with eyes that is.

His hair was dark, and so were his eyes. He had a bit of stubble along his jaw and above his lip. He was somewhat scruffy looking, but in a good way.

As the speeder went through the forresty stretch of pathway, I kept turning around to catch a glimpse of him. Each time I did I had to look away fast because Gander would give me weird stares.

I would play it off like I was simply taking in the view of the green planet around me, and he wouldn't seem to notice.

After a while, with quite a few twists and turns, and Gander and I nearly falling off the speeder twice, we arrived to our destination.

We all hopped out of the transport, following the man into a giant cargo port. As soon as I looked to my left I could see an X-wing fighter in all it's glory. I had never seen a real one before, just heard stories and viewed holograms.

"Alright. We have about twelve other recruits arriving on this base today, so you will all be attending orientation this evening. As for right now, you look beat, and should rest. PX-74 will assign you to your bunks," He said, gesturing to the droid before beginning to walk away with a nod, but I stopped him before he could take a step.

"Wait a minute... I believe I recall something about a formal introduction," I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight, trying to give off the look of having as much confidence as I could muster. I was putting on a facade, possibly to make me seem more mature. I didn't know the real reason.

He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned me up and down with his dark eyes.

"Cassian Andor," He smiled, then looking right back at me with questioning eyes. "And how about you... you got a name?"

"Y/n from clan Maldrix," I said, my confidence wavering a little when he looked at me the way that he did.

"She's a Mandalorian," Shyloh perked up, and I sent him a warning glare.

"Yeah, sixth generation," Merc added, his cocky smile pasted on his face for all to see and be annoyed by.

"A mandalorian? I've heard the stories but I haven't ever met one. Are you-?"

"I'm not," I cut him off before this got twisted into one big lie. "My mother and father are."

"Doesn't that make you one too?" Cassian furrowed his brow but his tone was somewhat joking and humorous.

"No, it does not," I wasn't harsh with the way my voice came out, but I was firm. Though I wasn't one of them, the mandalorians and all they stood for were very important to me.

"Mandalorian is not a race, it's a creed. Some of the best Mandalorians I ever had the pleasure of knowing didn't even have a bloodline from Mandalore. They were foundlings, like these three," I explained, laying out the facts so that there was no longer any confusion lingering, but now there was a tension that was thicker than the trees on this planet.

"Even still, she can fight just as good as any soldier taken the creed," Merc jumped in, trying to clear the air, and thankfully, it seemed to be working.

"She flies even better," Shyloh mentioned, and I swore I could kill him. He was just so pushy sometimes, even with his massive sense of wisdom.

"You fly?" This peaked Andor's interest, and immediately he seemed more engaged towards me.

"I'm not as good as they say I am," I admitted, but he shook his head.

"No, really... if you can fly we could really use you. We're putting together a team for an air raid that's set to happen about one month's time from now," He came up closer to me and stared me in the eye.

"I'm just a kid, I might really let you down," I joked, trying not to get too caught up in his eye contact. His eyes were much darker when you could see them closely.

"I tell you what, I can arrange for you to have time in the flight simulator after orientation. If we feel you would be an asset, we can add you to the strike team," He said, nodding along to his words. I understood that they might need backup, and if push came to shove, I could maneuver faster than any pilot back on Mandalore. I never lost a race, nor did I ever lose a bet.

"Okay."

I could tell I was blushing from the extra attention I was receiving. I wasn't so sure what about me was so enticing that I deserved it.

"I have to go now to pick up the other recruits from a drop station. I leave you in the capable hands of PX-74," He said, returning to his speeder and letting us be lead off into the base.

"There are only so many open bunks left. Two of you will share one, and the other two will be placed with bunk mates." The metalized voice of the PX unit was strong in our ears, and we all followed after him as we ventured into the long hallway at the end of the cargo port.

The droid stopped at a door about midway through the hall and opened it using the side panel on the wall, revealing a young man that seemed almost younger than me even.

"One of you will be staying here. Which will it be?" The droid asked, turning towards our small group.

"I'll take this one," Shyloh said, stepping forward into the bunk to meet his new roomate.

The boy looked a bit frightened at first, but because of Shyloh's powerful yet calming energy, he seemed to relax almost immediately.

He turned and smiled back at us, waving before the IG unit closed the door and kept us going.

He walked us down passed several more doors, maybe more than twenty, before he stopped at another one and opened it up.

Inside sat a young woman, her legs crossed as she sharpened a knife with a smirk on her face. She looked up and made eye contact with me first.

"I wondered how long it would be before they got someone else in here." Her voice was somewhat low and raspy, but it was kind of soothing in a way.

"One of you-" the IG unit began again, but I stopped him, stepping into the bunk with the girl inside.

"I'll take this one." I smiled at the two boys left before the door closed on my new bunk.

I moved to set my knapsack down on the bottom bunk, but my roomate stopped me.

"Bottom one's mine." She said, looking up from her sharpened knife again to inform me of the sleeping arrangements.

I instead threw my knapsack on the top bunk, trying to climb up into it, but failing miserably.

"You need a hand?" She chuckled, watching my lame attempts to swing my leg up high enough. The fact that there was no ladder should have tipped me off.

"I'll be okay, thanks," I laughed, keeping my attitude loose and positive, though this bunk bed was already causing unnecessary problems for me.

"If you say so," She chuckled again, seeing as I finally managed to haul myself up and onto the bed.

"First try," I joked, and she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. I think that we would be getting along, because no one ever laughed at my lame sense of humor.

I laid back, resting my arms behind my head and staring blankly at the ceiling.

"So, where are you from?" She piped up, not taking her eyes away from her previous knife. That thing must mean a lot to her.

"Mandalore," I let out, trying to get comfortable on this lumpy pad that was under my head.

"Actually?" She seemed surprised. Everyone had heard of the planet that the mandalorian tribes had resided upon, and usually they understood what kind of people the place would breed.

"Yeah. Left just in time. Tomorrow's my birthday," I shut my eyes continuing our converastion with one less sense. It didn't matter, though. I was still fully awake.

"What would you have had to do?" She pondered curiously, finally looking up towards the bunk in interest.

"Well, to put it short... tomorrow I would have had to swear my freedom away. No living being would ever be able to see my face again till the day I died," I laid it out plain and simple, and she seemed to understand.

"How old are you?" She asked, her trail of questions getting longer and longer.

"Sixteen tomorrow," I answered, feeling a bit more tired now that my eyes had been closed, and the lights in the bunk rooms were dim.

"You're just a baby," She scoffed. "How could they possibly expect you to make that choice so young?"

"It's just the way it's always been there. This is the way," I remembered. Those words used to be said to me nearly ten times a day, and now they only rung in my mind as a memory.

"That's insane. The people on your planet must be crazy to take an oath like that," She muttered.

"You would think so... the strangest part about it is that there are kids brought back as foundlings that take the creed without hesitation. They don't even belong to a bloodline, they just feel as though they have right to the creed as much as anyone else," I silently remembered Din for a moment. He was the bravest, strongest, most loyal Mandalorian I'd ever known. A foundling.

I began to get bitter at the thought of leaving him. He could have made things better for me if I had just given him a chance. I had to let my head get in the way. I needed to think about something else.

"What about you, huh? Where you from?" I asked, changing the subject as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Alderaan. Born and raised," She said, getting up from the floor and dropping herself on the bottom bunk.

"You been a lot of places since then?" I asked, but she first let out a heavy sigh before speaking.

"Only too many to count," She said, settling herself on the bunk like I had done.

"Must be nice..." I muttered. Finally able to relax on this pathetic excuse for a bed pad. Of course I couldn't complain. I'm the one who chose the life of the rebellion, including their miserable bedding. "I've never been anywhere outside my home planet until now. I haven't even seen the entirety of my own planet."

"Most new comers are the same. They haven't been anywhere else, then they come here and its like we're moving non stop. Base to base, on just about every planet in this galaxy," She reassured. At least now I didn't feel so out of place.

"How long have you been stationed here?" I asked, unsure of how long I would get to adjust to things.

"A few months. It's likely we'll have to leave soon. There's rumors of the imperials knowing our location," She answered, rolling her eyes, thought I couldn't see from the top bunk.

"You're kidding," I scoffed. After just getting here, I might have to up and leave again. I'll have to learn to accept this new life, it's what I wanted.

"I wish I was, kid," She added.

"I have a name," I retorted back, not a fan of the nickname 'kid'. I waited for her to ask me what it was, but when she stayed silent I sighed. "It's Y/n."

"I'll call you what you are... now get some rest, they'll come pounding on that door in a few hours for orientation," She said, as though she somehow had grown to a habit of mothering me only five minutes after we met. I dropped the conversation and drifted off to sleep, my eyes were too heavy to keep open anymore anyway.

Tags open

A/n: okay so like i wrote this a while before everything with gina carano happened and i do not in any way condone her whatsoever so let's pretend she's been recast already...

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin fic #reader insert #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x oc #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando x you #the mandalorion spoilers #siege of mandalore #cara dune #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader

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jedijesi · 3 years

Text

Luminary Love

Prince!Din Djarin x F!Princess!Reader

🤍Masterlist🤍

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (F receiving, PiV, Breeding kink)

Summary: Tonight is your (unwanted) wedding to the soon-to-be King of Mandalore, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

Word Count: 3,100+

A/N: I’ve had this idea for several days now and I just needed to write it. Don’t worry tho bc the next ch. of biblichor will b out soon. Enjoy some Din content!🤍

All night long, you received congratulations and cheers. Thousands, billions of people would kill to be in your position, but you dreaded this more than anything. You never wanted to marry the soon-to-be king of Mandalore, but the Royal administration never gave you an option. Throughout the fantastical wedding, you repeatedly reminded yourself it was for your people - they are the ones who will prosper from this. Thankfully, his creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of others, therefore you weren’t allowed to kiss him. The only time you had to touch him during the ceremony was when you held hands. Even then, his mastiff-leather gloves create a barrier from any real contact.

After the ceremony, you avoided your new husband as best you could. When it was time to put on a show, you had forced yourself to put on the royal smile you had been practicing. When eating, you sat as far away as possible from him but not far enough to worry the royal administrations that watched you two tentatively. The times you were called to waltz, you performed what you had been learning for months but never made eye contact with him. After a few dances, the royals watching had joined in and forgotten about you, giving you the perfect chance to escape.

You spent your time talking with other royalty, expressing your worries and concerns to Princess Mary of Ryloth. Unlike you, she was happily married, but it was her 3rd time. The first two suitors weren’t ‘good enough’ for her, so she became the royal’s biggest scandal and ignored her administration to marry for love. Luckily her experience with terrible lovers led to wonderful tips and tricks that she gladly gave you for your wedding night. You knew she was telling you these things to help, but in reality, it only made you feel worse about your new life.

“Djarin, my oldest friend, how are you enjoying your wedding?” General Paz said with a heavy pat to Din’s pauldron.

“It’s… grand.” Din sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“Grand? Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, everything appears wonderful, but my wife won’t speak nor look at me.”

“Have you attempted to talk to her?”

“Of course!” Din and Paz turn to watch you talk to Princess Mary. “She never responds, though.”

The uncomfortable feeling of Din’s stare props you to turn around. The blue and silver beskar statues jump when you catch them and quickly turn back to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I haven’t seen her in years, but she has grown to be quite beautiful, you must admit.” Paz shrugs.

“I know, it’s one of the many reasons I married her. I just… wish she’d give me a chance.”

“Well, she better. I overheard that the administration is already seething that you two haven’t gone back to your honeymoon suite.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet. “I don’t care about them. They shouldn’t have a say in my marriage.”

“Good luck arguing that. You know they expect an heir to be conceived tonight.”

“I already have Grogu. Is he not enough?”

“Nothing is enough for them, my friend.” Paz pats Din’s back reassuringly. “Just be kind to the poor girl. I’m sure she isn’t pleased with all of this.” He gestures to the grand chandeliers and dramatic towers of cake and food.

Din sighs as he fiddles with the edge of his cape. “Alright. I should probably go fetch her before the Administration creates any more drama.”

“Good luck, your majesty.” Paz bows as Din walks your way.

Din let’s go of his cape before wiping his armor of any lingering bits of dust and dirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for you. When Din arrives behind you, he clears his throat and bows.

“My Princess, it is time for us to leave for the Honeymoon Suite.”

Without a word, you give him a nod and take his arm. The guests cheer and whisper as you and your husband make your way out of the ballroom. You could hear Royal Administers whisper their concerns regarding your fertility or your performance in bed. It was dehumanizing, to say the least. You fought for justice and equality on Naboo, but this was not the way on Mandalore. Your new role would be diminished to a supporting queen who would raise the future heirs. Meanwhile, the other women of Mandalore were busy serving valiantly in wars. This was the way. Mandalore was born out of extremists, and you had to embrace the consequences.

Din hated the whispers. If he were king, he would have lashed out long ago, but the coronation isn’t for another few days. You didn’t deserve to be treated as an object. Din saw you to be the goddess that would help lead his people into prosperity and the gorgeous woman who may one day graciously birth his children. Such slander against someone so perfect made Din rage under his helmet. A few more days. Din would remind himself.

The Suite reflected Mandalore: grand and majestic. Silver swirls of beskar outlined the stained glass windows that watched over Mandalore. The bed was larger than any other you had seen before. It looked cozy; a complete contrast to the large and uncomfortable dress you’ve been wearing all day. You walked over to touch the silk-like blankets and sighed at its softness.

Din watched you with interest - mesmerized by the way the roaring fireplace creates a golden glow on your features. “Wife?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” The flicker of sadness in his voice took you by surprise. You weren’t sure if Mandalorians could feel emotions underneath the layers of cold beskar. “Do I… scare you?”

You turn to look at him, your nerves shining through by the twiddling of your thumbs. “I… I don't know.”

“What is wrong, my dear princess? I want to fix this. I don't want to start our marriage off on the wrong foot.” You sit down on the luxurious bed, your eyes now watching as you fiddle with your dress. Din walks towards you, taking a knee to be at eye level with you. “I understand this isn't what you wanted. I heard whispers that it took the maids an hour to get you off your ship. That you fought off any guard that laid a hand on you.” Din chuckled at the image he had created in his head. “But then the fighting stopped… why?” You couldn't find it within yourself to respond. “Won’t you please entertain my curiosity?”

You sighed and looked up into the dark visor. “I realized I was being selfish. I had forgotten that marriage among the royals was for the people… not for love.”

“You do not love me?”

“We barely know each other, your majesty.”

“What are you speaking of? We used to be best friends.”

You scoffed at Din. “We were children, your majesty. You were just a servant boy in the palace back then, but times have changed, haven't they, your majesty.”

“Please refrain from calling me ‘your majesty.’ I thought we were beyond that.” Din groaned, annoyed by the ridiculous title.

“Din, you're to become the Mandalore - the king - in a few days' time. I understand the rules - I understand why you had to marry me.”

“What? So that I could officially hold the title as king? I don't care about a stupid title - the administration does.”

“Then why marry me? There are millions of royals lined up to marry the Mandalore, but why choose me, Din? Why?” You started getting hysterical at it all. Your life's work had come to a halt just so that Din could be crowned king. It was disgusting and unfair.

“As an orphan-servant boy, the days your family visited were the best days of my life. Your parents always treated me like their own - the complete opposite of how the Kryze family did. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You were the only person who could beat Paz and me in a fight. The only person who would sneak out of the palace to play in the garden at night with me. When your parents… passed and you stopped visiting me… It crushed me. I never stopped thinking about you, my princess.”

You could hear the build-up of tears in Din’s throat, but he wasn't the only one. You too had tears in your eyes, remembering the once pure and innocent life you had. You bring your hand up to din's helmet, holding where his cheek would be.

“Do you remember that last night?”

“Of course I do. It was a cold night in the rose garden. I gave you my coat since you had insisted you didn't need your shall.” Din smiled and chuckled at the memory.

“I... I never saw your lips, but I had never felt such pure joy than the moment they molded against mine.”

Din leans his head forward to rest your foreheads together. Underneath, he continued to beam. It had been so long since he had felt such love - such love that could only be created by you.

“My princess, I never stopped loving you. Even as we grew up and apart, I would watch the holovids that spoke about you, and all the wonderful things you were doing for your people. It was the only thing that kept me going through those torturous years apart from you. I love you.”

Din’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Din.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, my husband?”

“Will you take this ridiculous helmet off of me so that I may kiss you and make love to you?”

Your glowing smile melts Din’s heart. Your hand reaches up to slowly slide off the silver beskar helmet that covered those features you dreamt of. An audible gasp escapes past your lips when Din’s lips appear. It took everything in you to not pounce on him and cover him in kisses, but you maintain your composure. His nose was strong and beautiful, and his cheeks… oh, how you wanted to leave lipstick stains on them. Then were his perfect eyes. Those chocolate eyes that expressed an amount of love you'd never completely fathom in your life.

“You're stunning, Din.” Din’s heart flutters at your words. The only compliment he's ever received was about his combat skills and valor. He's never been complimented on his looks before.

“I’d never compare to my gorgeous wife.”

Din takes your face into his palms and slowly pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips touch, you feel fireworks exploding all around you. The glowing lights flash behind your eyelids as you mold your lips together. The tickle of his mustache causes you to giggle into the kiss, which Din finds to be enchanting. One of Din's hands leaves your face to grip your torso, massaging and kneading your skin.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss. “I love you more than the moons and stars.”

As the kisses become more intense, so does your lust for one another. Din’s hands undo the strings of your wedding dress as you shed his armor off - lips never leaving each other. Once you two were completely naked, Din had you crawl to the center of the bed.

“Now, lay back, my love. I want to show you how much I love and miss you.” You follow his instructions and rest your head on the large cloud-like pillows.

Din crawls between your legs, taking one into his hand. Starting from your ankle, he works his way down, leaving a trail of sloppy yet delicate kisses. He takes his time at your inner thigh, sucking and licking at your skin to make you emit whimpers.

“D-Din, please don't tease me.”

“Hush, now. Let me take my time loving you.” And he does. He spends his time worshiping your body - kissing and sucking the skin around your lips while his hand massages your breasts. Suddenly, Din dives into your sopping wet cunt, immediately sucking and licking your swollen clit. You let out a loud gasp followed by a moan, making Din’s cock bounce up in excitement.

Your noises sound like music - the most angelic music he's ever heard in his life. Each moan and whimper you let out only addicted him more. Din wraps his hands around your waist and sits back, lifting your hips from the bed and to his mouth. You grip the blankets with a scream as Din explores further into your pussy. The animalistic grunts and growls he lets out only make you wetter.

“Come on, Princess. Cum. Cum all over my face. I need it.” And just like that, you let out a scream as you convulse around his tongue. Din slowly lowers you back onto the bed as he licks up your dripping cum. “You're sweeter than a meiloorun, darling. I've never tasted anything so divine. I’d love to stay between your legs forever and drink your cum until the day I die, but I wanna put a baby in you too badly to do so.” You let out a whimper at his filthy words. “Can I, darling? Will you let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Wait, we're not done?” You ask through pants.

“Not done? We’ll be done when the sun wakes up. Even then, I'm not sure if we'll ever be done. Why?”

“The other princesses said it would only be a minute of discomfort, and it’ll be over.

Din tsks and shakes his head, pressing a few kisses to your clit. “Oh, my darling. I'm not like those other royals. I care about my wife’s pleasure, and you…” Din presses more kisses to your overstimulated heat. “Are nowhere near done with your, please. So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for me to fuck a baby into you with my thick, hard cock?”

“Stars, yes! Please, Din!” You hated how completely and utterly desperate you sounded, but you were completely and utterly desperate for Din to fuck you.

Din crawls up to meet your half-lidded eyes, drooping with lust. He places soft kisses on your cheeks before pressing one to your lips. “Are you ready for me, Princess?”

“Yes, my husband.”

Din grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance. With a loud moan, he enters your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, you're so wet! Ungh… Stars, you're so tight too!” Din’s thrusts speed up to a steady pace, your moans echoing through the room along with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies pounding together. “From this day forward, y-your. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” Din emphasizes his words with his cock hitting against your g-spot.

“O-Only i-if your cock b-belongs - Oh yes, Din - To me.”

Din chuckles through his labored breaths. “Of course, my love. My cock is forever yours to do what you please with. I don't care what time- ugnh- or what p-place. It's yours.” You lean up to capture din’s parted lips, swallowing his beautiful moans. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. Desperate for your release, you buck your hips back into Din. “Yes, take my cock. It's yours. All yours.” Din takes your legs, pushing them to your chest. Both of you let out a series of loud moans at the deeper feeling.

“Oh, Din! I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!”

“Ugh, I can see the galaxy when I'm inside you! Can you feel that, my love?”

“Yes, I-I can feel your throbbing cock!” You throw your head back at the euphoric feeling. Your exposed neck allows Din to swoop down and suck marks onto it.

“Th-That's me, claiming what's mine. You're all mine, my princess.” Din’s thrusts speed up, desperate and ready for you to cum. Each thrust was accompanied by a loud grunt that made you clench even tighter. “I'm gonna cum. I'm going to give you a baby - our baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Din! I love y-you!” You scream out a slew of ‘i love yous’ and clench tightly around Din’s swollen cock. Your orgasm and words of love cause Din to cum, sending spurts of his cum into your womb, where your future child would soon grow.

Din collapses on you which you gladly accept. You wrap your arms around his neck and place kisses on the crown of his head. Both of you stay like that for a while, basking in pure love. Once your breaths are back to normal, Din slowly pulls out of you to lay on the bed beside you. He pulls you closer to him so that no space lingered and adjusted the blankets to create a cocoon of comfort around you two.

You smile as you listen to his heartbeat against his chest. Din’s index finger presses to the underside of your chin, adjusting your eyes to look into his.

“Are you okay, my love?”

You nod lazily, completely worn out. “You know, having a husband isn't so bad after all.” Din lets out a hearty laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“Yeah, having a wife isn't so bad either.” Din smirks at you, causing you to shy away in embarrassment and return your attention to his chest. Your fingers trace shapes and words onto his chest until you stop. A mark on Din’s torso prompts you to inspect it. “What are your curious fingers doing, my love?”

“What is this?” You ask as your finger traces the mark.

“It’s just a scar, dearest.”

“A scar?” You look back at Din with worry in your eyes.

“Oh, don't worry, my love. I've collected so many over the years, I've become immune to them. That one was either from when I fought Bo-Katan or when I fought a mudhorn to save my son.”

“Goodness.... I've missed so much of your life.” Your face droops with sadness, but Din is quick to relieve your worries.

“Now, it's nothing to be upset over. Yes, we've missed a lot, but that means we can spend the rest of our lives catching up and making new memories. Plus, you can meet my son tomorrow.”

You smile and press a chaste kiss to Din’s lips. “I’d love that.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, but this one wasn't so innocent.

“Did I not satisfy you, my love?” Din chuckles into the kiss. You climb on top of him and shake your head. “Oh, does my princess want more?”

You give Din a mischievous grin and shrug.

Din smirks before leaning in to kiss you. “Well, who am I to deny my wife of her wishes?”

A/N: Idk who from my Javier Peña taglist wants to be on this one, but those who are interested in being added to a Din Djarin taglist or a perminante taglist, please let me know.🤍 Can’t wait to hear what you all think!

#luminary love #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #pedro pascal x reader

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