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penvisions · 9 months

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 2}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: You come to realize that as much as you want your freedom, your new captor is someone you are afraid to run from.

Word Count: 7.1K

Warnings: mentions of narcotics, reader was drugged previously, withdrawal, insinuation of past SA, insinuation of sexual favors, mentions of past torture (not detailed), mentions of past trauma (not detailed)

A/N: this chapter is brought early to you by the various albums of tool, copious amounts of coffee, and the buzzing of excitement to get this out to y’all. it’s a very intimate glimpse into reader’s internal monologue and i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this. it was very very fun to write and put down in concrete scenes ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The sounds of heavy breathing were harsh in the quiet expanse of the desert. The sun beating down suffocating rays that made sweat build up along your hairline and on the skin underneath your lightweight tunic. The fabric was old and frayed, from what you were beginning to think was a few years since you had donned it for travel. It was larger on you than it had once been, the weight you had lost during your captivity obvious. You ran the last few yards between where you had been trying to keep up and the figure that had just been rushing at a fast pace but now lay motionless.

You slid to a stop on your knees beside the fallen form of the Mandalorian on the rocky terrain that made up the desert planet. His body having landed on a heightened outcropping of softer gravel that was the base of a jutting rock formation.

The drugs were still waning from your system but not enough for them to have tricked you into seeing the absolute absurdity that was the unconscious man laid out before you giving chase to the Jawas as they fled the scavenged mess of his ship. After they had sought refuge on their giant crawling fortress and began to flee the scene in haste.

For someone who came across as so put together and focused while on a hunt, he had run off after the small beings with no thought. Granted, you’d be pretty upset too if you had traveled so far for work only to come back to your ship, your home, being scavenged beyond use. But it had been rather comical to witness a lone figure chased after such a large structure that was speeding away into the desert, until he had gotten injured. Until you realized what it meant.

Electric shocks sparked over him in disjointed waves as his armor whined at a low timbre. The wiring charred because of getting electrically shocked by so many guns at once thanks to the Jawas. They were small creatures and the electroshock weapons they carried allowed them to gain an even hand in the cutthroat world of scavenging and trading. He wasn’t making any noise himself, but you could hear the modulator picking up his faint breathing and displaying it for you. You glanced toward the horizon, seeing the crawling fortress that carried your way off this planet with it disappea from view.

Your hands were still contained in the binders fastened around your wrists, the mechanics of them too strong for you to break. But you weren’t too confident you’d be able to get out of them if you were at full strength, even with the Force. You had a feeling they would send shocks themselves, if tampered with beyond general jostling. With bated breath you hovered your open palms over the helmet, trying to get a sense of what to do, your skin felt the coolness of the metal despite it being in the sun as long as you have been.

Gaze wandering over the man’s form, you took in how broad he was, how solid. His armor surely lent him more than protection, the plates strapped carefully to his body allowing him to appear bigger than he was. But as you took in the width of his shoulders, the stockiness of his legs, you were beginning to think he was a wall of a man even beneath the armor. You felt your face flush as your thoughts wondered about him, unsure where the fascination was coming from. He was just another captor of yours, granted he had been contracted. Maybe that was why.

Because he was a professional, seen as someone of high value and skill in his field. Someone you knew your dearest mother would’ve requested to receive your tracking fob to ensure your return to her.

You wondered what the final trigger was, for her to reach out to the Guild. If you took the Mandalorian’s words as fact, which you felt like you could, then you had been ‘missing’ for five years. Out of those five years, your memory of time was warped. Your entire sense of what had happened and when was jumbled up and would take you serious time to try and decipher.

You recalled overhearing talk of an arrangement for you to be relocated, both you and your mother, to someplace that could offer more complete protection. To someone who could provide you with a life that was still caged and corralled but in a way that would seem like you weren’t. You had heard the term ‘betrothed’ that despite an addled state had triggered the sense to run and immediately began planning a way to escape in earnest. You wouldn’t be sold for some man’s amusement and posterity. To be a boasting point of someone’s accomplishments that were only brought on by money and status.

Memories of landing on Tatooine, of finding affordable supplies and as updated a map as possible flooded your mind’s eye. You had purchased everything needed to set up a small moisture farm for yourself, in order to live off of and provide for yourself in such a desolate place. You hadn’t been too keen on settling in the desert, preferring the rich shrubbery and canopy of leaves forests provided. The deep greens of plant life and the scent of rain in the air when storms approached on the horizon, but you had decided it would be too predictable. Too easy to track you down to a planet that appealed to you. With a sigh you reigned in your thoughts.

You looked over to the small green face of your other companion peeking out from his pod, worry in his large eyes and the droop of his adorable ears. You sucked in a breath before chancing digging your fingers into the material of the Mandalorian’s cloak that created a wrapped cowl around his neck to find a pulse. His skin was warm underneath your fingers, the softness of the man beneath the armor a little dizzying. His pulse was weak, but it was there, you removed your hands and marveled at the sensation his skin left on yours as you settled down beside to wait for him to rouse.

Shivers moved your body as chills traced heavily over your skin, withdrawal hitting you full force after not having anything forcefully injected into your veins in over twenty-four hours. The hinge of your jaw was sore from the force you were clenching it shut with, the pain reverberating from the crown of your head too much to handle. You don’t know what type of sedative they had kept you on but now that it was wearing off after however many consecutive days of it, your body was beginning to struggle without it.

You don’t know how long you sat beside him, it must’ve been a few hours at least judging by the movement of the sun from overhead to well into its descent of the day. You kept checking his pulse, which had gradually grown in strength.

Relief flooded you when you noticed the change from his breathing being labored to even once again. Bound hands hovered over the rip in his sleeve from being cut, and you focused your concentration on the injury he had closed up hastily the night before. After a few moments the jagged, irritated skin smoothed out and it was as if he had never been injured to begin with.

You checked his pulse again, worried your healing would have spiked it and were about to remove your hand from within the fabric around his neck when one of his own shot out and gripped it crushingly tight. The Mandalorian jolted up from his laid out position, a string of grunts sounding through his modulator. His legs opened wide to help stabilize himself and he turned his helmet to face you.

His breathing was a little on the heavy side as he took in your form, your face a twinge red from being in the sun all day. Some of the flush from a fever you were sure that was beginning to take over your immune system. He took in the floating pod behind you, still occupied by his other quarry. Your hand twitched in his hold and he looked down to where he had it in a tight grip, his gloves encompassing the entirety of it. The creak of your bones beneath his grip had him dropping your hand and turning to face the trail left in the wake of the traveling fortress.

“How long was I out?”

You were slightly taken aback by his question, unsure if he was really initiating conversation with you. You rubbed at your aching hand, his phantom grip still on your skin.

An answer quietly followed, not wanting to enrage the man who had willingly run after the remnants of his ship in such a haste. Because despite how absurd it had been, it told you a lot about him. How he was willing to give chase, to hunt in the very depths of his core. He was devoted to it. It was who he was, it made him a challenge you had to acknowledge you couldn’t overcome lest you try to run yourself.

And while that terrified you, it also made you feel a swirl of emotions that you couldn’t name. You had spent nearly your entire life on the run, in hiding, keeping to yourself and keeping a low profile. But now that he had your tracking fob, now that he knew about the price on your head and taken on the responsibility of your capture, you doubted he would ever stop his pursuit. He took things personally, a way to prove himself. And while you prided yourself on your ability to hide, you knew he would find you because he was devoted to the chase. It would fuel him should you give in to your baser instincts and attempt freedom.

Even if you could get to your hideaway home here on planet, it wouldn’t matter a dank ferrick thing. Off world was the only option. But it was too bold of one without any bearings.

“A few hours, jatne vod.”

“You were touching me.” He moved to sit up straighter, stretching the muscles in his back with the motion. He stood from there, leaning down to reach for the tops of his boots with a deep breath. He stood at his full height and began to walk back in the direction of his ship. You fell into step behind him, the Child’s pod floating beside him. “Don’t do it again.”

“Apologies, jatne vod. I caught up just in time to see them all fire on you at once. That and the fall from the ship worried me.”

“Worried. Worried you would end up trapped out here with no way off world.” His tone was flat, stating rather than questioning. You both knew he was correct in his assumption of why you hadn’t run off. Why you had stuck by his side as he had laid unconscious. You didn’t say anything, there wasn’t anything to say. He was reading you as if you were projecting everything plainly for him. If he noticed the way you were literally shaking as if cold despite the sweltering heat, he didn’t comment on it.

“I healed that nasty cut you had on your arm, and I didn’t have to touch you to do it.”

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him, he may not have even felt the injury any longer, but you recalled the way he had breathed so heavily when he had discovered it. The rough tissue from the fast cauterization of it had bothered you, the idea of a scar marring his skin had bothered you and weren’t sure why the thought had upset you enough to prompt you into healing him. No response was given but the helmet was aimed at you. The darkness of his visor captivated you, rooting you in your spot. You tore your gaze away, unable to take the direct attention.

You weren’t sure your chills were solely from withdrawal having caught a glimpse of him in action…

His ship was…for the most part just a frame. The basic structure of the ship was intact, but everything that could be pried from the frame had been taken. The area around where he had landed was littered with parts the Jawa’s had left behind in their haste to flee the scene. It was an older ship, surely the parts were valuable for them to have taken nearly everything they could from it. You remained quiet as you approached it for the second time that day, behind your captor and fellow captive. Sparks intermittently lit up the interior of the ship, the gaping holes in the hull and siding allowed for you to see as well as hear them in the quiet of the desert.

Sounds of things slamming and an attempt to start the engines had you walking towards what was left of the ship. You hesitantly stepped up the ramp and into what was once the hold space. Wires hung from everywhere, the source of the sparks that still flew every so often as power found no way to transfer and run the various mechanics. You looked around and took in the bare bones of what was once a pretty ship. You spied the Mandalorian seated just inside a small doorway that led to what had to be his sleeping quarters. His shoulders were slumped, his helmet hanging low as the man gathered his thoughts.

A small hand touched the back of your ankle and your head snapped down to see the Child had climbed out of his pod and followed you both up the ramp. His touch hadn’t elicited the same nauseating and painful effect as it had done at first. Which allowed you to conclude that he had been trying to show you that he remembered you, from long ago and that he was trying to connect with you when reunited. He had used the Force to try and push his thoughts into your mind, though he was clumsy with it and had flooded his own emotions of a time past into you along with them.

You leaned down to help him scramble over a large chunk of the hold space wall that was dented and on the floor with a gentle hand on his back. He stopped in front of the Mandalorian just as a deep sigh fell from the man’s helmet, the Child babbling up at him as if in response.

Words didn’t leave your lips, knowing what it was like to have the place you called home and returned to at the end of the day decimated. Both in the literal and metaphorical sense. When you had first returned to your home planet of K’ath, you had faced the same desolation he was most likely experiencing. Your home had been destroyed and for a fleeting moment you thought you had taken too long to return from training and that your mother had fallen victim to the obvious attack aimed at you. Turned out she had relocated with the help of some kind people that helped her to raise you, to a smaller and more secluded part of the inland area.

Without a word, the Mandalorian reached down to pick up the Child and held him to his chest as he walked past you and back down the ramp. You watched as he carefully placed the small figure securely into his pod, making sure that the blanket in there was flat for him to sit atop it. You felt something flutter in your chest at the sight and tears sprung up in your eyes at the softness. You weren’t sure if it was because you missed when the touch of your mother had been soft toward you or if you were moved at seeing such a formidable man taking the time to ensure the comfort of such a small being. Emotions confusing you more than you already were at the way things were unfolding, you turned around quickly so they wouldn’t be seen by your captor.

“Move it.” And with that you followed them both back into the expanse of the desert, wiping the cuffs of your tunic underneath your eyes.

It was nightfall the next day when you stopped walking, the journey long and tiring on an empty stomach and no water. A complaint didn’t leave you, not one to bring up the impossibilities of your captor sharing however he was keeping himself nourished. His suit must’ve held some sort of food or drink because every so often you would see his hand reach up to the bottom of his helmet. The previous night when he had stopped for a few hours, he seemed to have been taking sips from a small pouch you hadn’t seen before.

There was a smattering of structures up ahead, surely the destination he was seeking out. There were lights on in the alcove over the entrance to a typical structure most lived in on desert planets. Equipment to farm moisture from the air. There was a beacon of some sort that jutted out tall on the landscape, a figure tinkering away at the top of it. As you approached, the figure spoke.

“I thought you were dead.”

The shuffling sound of the Child fidgeting in the pod urged you to reach down for him. The hard gaze of the Mandalorian weighing on your back as you did so. You carefully lifted him underneath his armpits, the rough fabric of his clothing against your fingers as you lowered him to the ground where he immediately began to play with a small frog-like creature that had been minding its own business. It was a rather endearing sight, the small coos falling from him prompting a soft smile to grace your features.

“This is what was causing all the fuss?” The figure that you could decipher now, that of an older Ugnaught, climbed down and stood beside the Child, watching as you and the Mandalorian did.

“I think it’s a child.” The Mandalorian glanced over at the Child as he played with the frog-like creature, chasing it around the open area with small steps and gurgles. The man was standing with a foot atop something as he leaned over his knee slightly and messed with the cuff on his left arm that was emitted an even electronic glow up and down the entirety of it. You suspected his back was hurting him and he was subtly trying to stretch it out. That fall from the Jawas fortress must’ve hurt, as he had landed directly on his back onto the rocky ground.

“It is better to deliver it alive then. And who might you be?”

You just shook your head and bowed your gaze as the Ugnaught approached you. You were sitting down beside the pod, not sure where the Mandalorian preferred you but positive he would be unhappy if you weren’t within his range of immediate sight.

“Another quarry, to be taken back alive. Directly to the person who contracted the Guild.”

You didn’t look up as he walked away from you, going about his business.

“My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here.”

“Stripped. Not destroyed.” The Ugnaught corrected evenly as he piddled around his workspace before going to stand beside the armored man. A tool was handed over. “The Jawas steal. They do not destroy.”

“Stolen or destroyed, makes no difference to me.”

You scoffed lightly at the nearly petulant tone of the Mandalorian’s voice. At the movement of his helmet toward you, you huffed and tried to cover it with a cough. Though it wasn’t much of a performance as the noise deep in your dry throat had been too much stress. Your fake cough quickly delved into a fit of very real coughing. You waved off the Child as he approached you with drooping ears and wide eyes, plaything momentarily forgotten. The Ugnaught set down a pouch beside your feet, silently offering you what was inside it. You gingerly took the pouch, not drinking from it yet as you tried to wait for what he wanted in exchange for it.

“That is yours to keep, you must stay hydrated here on Arvala-7, it’s an unforgiving planet.”

You sputtered around the sip you had taken, trying to hold what little of your dignity you had left and not spit out the precious water in your shock. Surely you were just exhausted and your body strung out, mishearing what the man had to say. The sip you took glistened on your bottom lip as you stared from him to the Mandalorian just beyond him, both of them watching you as you struggled to swallow the water in your mouth like a fool.

“Wait, we… we aren’t on Tatooine?”

“No.” Such a simple word, a simple statement, but it tilted the axis on which you stood. Altering the very understanding of what was going on that you had just begun to grasp at over the last few days. You were standing quickly, mind moving a mile a minute as it tried to process the new information.

“….what- what planet are we on?”

“Arvala-7.”

“Oh.” You felt dizzy, vertigo rocking your entire body and making your knees buckle to try and right it back on track. Your knees hit the ground hard, and your palms followed as you tried and failed to catch yourself. A panic settled over you, you weren’t even aware of what kriffing planet you were on. Shame bubbled up and settled hard in your throat, making it hard to catch a breath. Gasping in breaths only made the vertigo worse and you felt yourself crumble completely on the ground, your vision spinning and your senses not comprehending anything.

“They- they drugged me and moved me across the fucking galaxy and I had no idea.” You muttered, face pressed into the cool sand of the ground now that the sun had set completely. You felt the heavy gaze of your captor but it was too calming a sensation to relinquish the way you laid on the ground, the coolness of it on your heated face. Shame flared up again, stronger this time and making your entire body warm, overwhelming you. “I-I don’t…no. No.”

You pushed yourself up roughly, standing on shaking legs and walked away from the two men and the Child. You were vaguely aware that the Mandalorian made to follow after you, but soft words from the Ugnaught stopped the man in his tracks. You staggered around the main part of his small abode, away from the sounds of their voices, needing a second to gather your swirling thoughts. You leaned back against the side of the building and let your body slink down it to settle on the ground. Bringing your knees up to your chest you crossed your arms atop them and laid your head down, face hidden.

“Give her a moment. She’s been through a lot if the stories about the compound are true. There’s nowhere for her to run.”

“Running isn’t the problem. She might kill herself.”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I have spoken.”

“The Jawas are protected by the crawling fortress.” He went back to repairing his cuff, the Child’s sounds picking back up as he resumed playing. “There’s no way to recover the parts.”

“You can trade.”

“With Jawas. Are you out of your mind?” Incredibility genuine in the man’s modulated voice carried in the air over the building and you spared a curious thought mid mental breakdown as to what exactly his problem with the small species was.

“I will take you to them. I have spoken.”

“Hey! Spit that out.”

His raised voice made you jump, even though it wasn’t aimed at you and he couldn’t even see you.

Between a literal child and…the mystery of who you were beginning to get on his nerves. Each fob was a job but the two that had activated upon landing. He took each job seriously, wanting to devote all that he had to them individually, but he didn’t have that luxury this time around. Both of you needing transport within sensitive time frames a little too much to be easy with how much trouble was occurring since securing you both. Things happening in too quick a concession for him to come up with a solid plan, especially in the wake of losing his ship.

You traveled through the night, a storm breaking and rain poured down upon your little group as you crossed the terrain. You, the floating pod, and the Mandalorian were settled on the transport that was being pulled along behind the blurrg that the Ugnaught was guiding. The blinding lightning and the subsequent boom of thunder had you curled into yourself, but you disguised your discomfort with the storm as trying to shield yourself from as much of the rainfall as possible.

It was well into the following day when you spied the structure of the crawling fortress that the Jawas called home. The Ugnaught directed the blurrg closer to the stationary structure. It appeared to be that they had stopped in order to access their recent scavenges. Small sunshades were propped up and items were strewn all around them, their figures milling about and taking stock of what they had. A wave of sound flowed through the air to your approaching group as they spotted you in the distance.

The Mandalorian removed the rifle from his back and held it at the ready. Wariness at seeing the Jawas again evident in the tension that you could feel coming off of him in waves. The Ugnaught held up a hand and shouted out a greeting to them from atop the blurrg as you cleared the remaining distance and came to a stop within the shade of their giant structure.

They raised their own weapons, ushering more of their people to make almost a blockade to protect their wares.

“They really don’t like you for some reason.”

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them.”

“You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are a part of my religion.”

“Then you are not getting your parts back.”

A deep sigh left him as he weighed his options. You watched as he ushered a tight ‘fine’ and placed his rifle beside his feet, close to you directly on the transport. He stood from his seat and stood on the ground, a small motion of his hand directing you to follow suit. You stood and stepped down off the transport to stand just behind him, a few feet of space between you.

“And the blaster.”

You watched as the armored man clenched his fists, aggravation obvious. The Ugnaught approached the Jawas, speaking in their native tongue as he did so.

You turned back around at a soft cooing sound and helped the Child down from his pod once again with careful hands. You placed him on the transport, hoping he wouldn’t try to hop off, he seemed content to stand there and watch the flurry of motion. The Mandalorian was suddenly in your space and causing goosebumps to sprout along your arms as he leaned so far into your space that your arms nearly brushed as he tossed his blaster onto the transport.

All three of you settled into a seated semi-circle, Jawas mirroring you a few feet away to create a full one.

“They will trade all the parts for the beskar.”

“I’m not going to trade anything. These are my parts. They stole them from me.” He pointed a gloved finder at them, his tone hard as he spoke. You remained still, back straight as the armored man leaned back on one hand slightly, one of his knees bent up to rest his pointing hand on. He was close, too close and your nerves felt like they were on fire as you silently watched on. Instincts urging you to put distance between you.

He attempted to speak to them in their native tongue, his words clumsily fumbling from his modulator. It was an odd thing to hear, his low voice sounding unsure as he spoke. Shrill laughter sounded from all around as the Jawas poked fun at his lack of ability in their language. That only angered him further and he flung out the arm he had been leaning on and flames erupted from his cuff. You startled, drawing the attention of the Jawas even as they scrambled about in panic.

The Ugnaught reigned in the commotion quickly, asking what else they were willing to trade. When the main one talking with you pointed past the three of you and toward the transport you felt the need to move. Before you could blink, you were waving away two Jawas that had approached the Child, the Mandalorian shouting at them to get away from his as well. The prickle of their eyes focused on your figure set you on edge.

More words were exchanged before the Jawas surrounded you in a rush of swirling black cloaks and glowing eyes. Your anxiety sparked as you felt small hands begin to reach out for you, but you didn’t move. You stood perfectly still despite the flurry of movement around you, continuing to shield the Child from them, the feeling of small hands patting at places on your body over your tunic.

You had the fleeting thought of using the Force to push them all away from you at once and make a run for it, but the glint of beskar out of the corner of your eye held you still. You were sure if you were in better health you would attempt to despite your earlier musings. But the truth of the matter was that you were stranded here just as he was without his ship. The desert was unforgiving to those who had no supplies. You knew from experience…

The Ugnaught was quick to respectfully usher them away with sharp words, oblivious to the loop of revelations running in your mind.

“What are they saying? She has nothing on her.”

“It’s not about what she has, it’s about what she is. They claim to have heard of the favors she’s done at the compound and want the same. In exchange for the parts you need.”

“They weren’t favors, I gained nothing from what those guards did to me.”

Seething aggravation dripped from the words you spat out without thinking. Your lips curling back in an ugly grimace as you did so, catching the two men still seated off guard. You hadn’t shown such emotion in front of either of them, only a glimpse of it as you had asked the Mandalorian to kill you just a few days before. But that had been desperation, not the white-hot fury that you carried with you for those that had kept you captive and tortured you.

It fell silent. Tension pulling your muscles taught as you prepared for this new captor to turn you over in order to get back what was rightfully his, what was stolen from him. You schooled your face into a mask, not willing to let them see the way you felt about it, about being used and traded as if you were credit, as if you were nothing, despite your outburst.

The Jawas watched you intently, their glowing eyes raking over your body. You remained in your spot between the Jawas and the transport. There was a hush of movement before you felt hands grasp your shoulders, the Mandalorian having stood and crossed the small space in a few strides. His touch shocked you, not having expected him to do such a thing, especially after his strict orders of no contact.

“She is not for trade.”

“They claim they do not want to keep her.”

“That’s even worse.” Large hands guided you back the few steps toward the transport. He held a hand resting steadily on the backs of your shoulders to help you to step up onto it and waited until you were settled by the Kid’s pod before leaning down to speak to you in a low tone that couldn’t be picked up by anyone else. The modulator masking any emotion in his low tone.

“I will not trade you for parts, you are not mine to do so with.”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, resisting speaking lest it be the wrong move. Of putting yourself in a situation that wasn’t playing out. If he were to trade you for parts, you’d have a better chance at besting the tribe of Jawas. But the issue of travel once again was the one thing tripping up your freedom. The helmet’s visor tilted slightly as he watched you for a moment, reading the things your face and posture were giving away despite you trying to reign them in. You didn’t like that while seated on the transport and him standing beside it put you at an even eyelevel.

“You have something to say.” You just nodded your head once, still hesitant to speak, he had been so harsh all those days ago, continued to be so, and you didn’t want to see what he would do if you disobeyed. You had been quiet since he had raised his voice at you, only speaking when he spoke to you as you quickly figured out how to best interact with him. “You may do so.”

“My saber, they would trade you anything you wanted for the saber. It’s highly valuable.” You nodded to where it was fastened to his utility belt, the metal of the handle glinting in the sun as it decorated his frame, nestled in with the rest his belongings.

“Beskar and kyber are not to be traded to those it does not belong to. If it is anything like beskar is to us Mandalorians, I will protect it as if it were my own until we are to part. It remains with those who value and respect it.”

The visor of his helmet was no longer trained on your face and his back was to you as he walked back to where the Ugnaught was speaking with the Jawas. You just watched, shocked at both his actions and his words.

You were silent as a trade was established and your group was ushered into the crawling fortress. The cramped spaces designed for the smaller forms of the Jawas had you leaning low as you settled into a seat while it spurred into movement.

“You run, and I will give chase. Do not forget that.” The Mandalorian’s warning chilled you as you knew all too well that he was speaking the truth. You stood beside the pod ramrod straight, not wanting any movement to make him suspect you were foolish enough to give in to your instincts. You nodded once to signal that you understood him, that you would remain out here and wait for his return. “Do not interfere, I need the credits and you are to be returned unarmed.”

All was quiet as his figure disappeared into the cave you had approached after leaving the crawling fortress, the reflection of the light on his helmet dimming until the entrance was pitch black once again.

You don’t know how much time passed but it could’ve have been long, before the faint sounds of blaster fire decorated the air. The body of the Mandalorian came flying out of the cave suddenly with a shout. You watched as he landed with a sickening thud into the thick mud that had resulted from last night’s storm. Some of it splattered up from the force of his landing.

You fought against the urge to run toward him to see if he was okay when a loud roar echoed through the air from the entrance of the cave. You saw the damaged plate of his chest armor bent and nearly falling from his downed frame. The sound hit you deep in your bones, it settled heavily into your stomach and froze in your spot. You reached for the saber that wasn’t attached to the waist of your tunic and you felt utterly exposed.

You could only watch as a large shape emerged from the cave. As the sunlight settled over it, a rather large mudhorn was revealed to be the culprit. Beside you, the Child cowered in his pod, ears drooping low as he tried to shy as far into the interior of the pod as possible while still being able to peer over the lip of it. You reached out a hand to rest atop it, prepared to throw it away should you need to.

The scene unfolded before you, the fight the Mandalorian tried to put up against the angered beast. But he was at a disadvantage, the creature far larger and far stronger than he was. His rifle jammed, allowing the mudhorn to charge him and fling him into the air once again with a hard hit of its ivory. The rifle flew from the man’s grip, splattering into the mud in much the same fashion as he did. The creature set its sight on you and the pod, altering its charge.

You scrambled to put more distance between you and scaled the outcropping of rock behind you while the Mandalorian hit the panel on his cuff and directed the pod to fly away out of the direct line of the creature. Its horn connected hard with the rock formation you were clinging to, the force of it jolting as you tried to keep your hold.

Deeming you too high a target, the creature turned on its heel and set its eyes back on the downed Mandalorian. You watched from your perch as he got dragged and thrown around again and again, still fighting against the creature after every avenue seemed to prove pointless in overpowering it. Another particularly harsh fling had him crashing into the ground and when he didn’t move to get up you found yourself climbing back down to the ground.

Before you could think to do anything, the creature was rearing itself to charge him again. As it neared him, the Mandalorian managed to get up onto his knees and held out a small dagger in front of him. A frown pulled at your lips as you realized that was all he had left to defend himself. He struggled to get a steady hold on the small weapon, his head bobbing and his arms shaking. He bowed his head and held the dagger out in front of him with both hands as the creature closed in on him.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight. You clenched your eyes shut and flung a hand out but concentration left you in the wake of blinding panic. Across the clearing, the Child did the same motion, mimicking you as he too clenched his eyes.

When sounds of the creature struggling finally wedged into your tunneled ears, you looked up with a gasp to see it being held steady in the air. Your head whipped around toward the pod, despite the distance it was obvious that the Child was using the Force to restrain the creature, effectively stopping it from killing the Mandalorian. Shaking off whatever he was feeling at the sight, the Mandalorian stood and slowly approached the floating, struggling creature. He spared a glance at you and then the Child when you nodded your head over toward it.

The Child seemed to lose his concentration, becoming overwhelmed with using the Force and he collapsed back into the pod. The mudhorn’s figure settling back onto the ground shook the clearing. All was still for a moment before the Mandalorian ran toward it. With a quick movement, he dug the dagger deep into its neck, collapsing as he did so.

It was quiet as he stood back up. Looking over the downed creature and twisting the blade in further before removing it completely.

A deep roar sounded from the mouth of the cave again, sending a trill of panic over you. One of them was enough of a challenge. Two of them would mean the death of the Mandalorian and subsequently you and the Child.

“Jatne vod, ogir's shol'shya!”

Sir, watch out, there’s one more!

Your shout was loud and sudden, voice harsh with panic. The already exhausted and beaten man had no more weapons, yours had been tucked into his belt, but you didn’t see it on his person anymore. The probability of it being lost in the mud somewhere from when he had been flung about like a ragdoll.

You rushed across the clearing before the cave as a second, larger, angrier mudhorn exploded out from the entrance at incredible speed. You reached out a tether with the Force, trying to hone in on the kyber crystal that you could hear faint whispers from. You were just stepping in front of the man still in front of the first downed mudhorn when the handle of your saber flew to you from the depths of the mud.

He rushed from the fallen body of the dead mudhorn and ran toward the pod in an attempt to protect the now unconscious Child.

A split second later the mudhorn made a curdling roar as you reached a hand out to shove the creature back a few yards, getting it as far from the two recovering figures as you could muster. Rushing after it without another word. It was already back up and rushing toward you, angered at having been tossed in such a way, at seeing the corpse of its partner off to the side.

You dropped to your knees and used the slickness of the mud to slide entirely underneath its charging form. Reaching up you engaged the saber, the white light of the blade searing a deep cut above you across the entirety of the creature’s underside.

The creature fell to the ground, dead. And you let darkness take over you as you collapsed beside it, the saber falling from your shaking arms.

The Mandalorian watched from where he was kneeling heavily on the ground in front of the pod, his knees digging into the thick mud. Both you and the small being in the pod were passed out, the foreign powers you both had used draining you. That was two quarries that had decided to save his life despite the circumstances, two debts he now owed…

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scene dividers made by the lovely @cafekitsune

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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 1 year

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Stars Collide; Star-Crossed

Summary: Their love was an unexpected journey, a clash of two different worlds. Din Djarin, the skilled bounty hunter, and the young Jedi with a powerful heritage. Together, they embarked on a quest to protect the galaxy and one very special child, learning to trust each other and discovering a bond that transcended their differences.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

Chapters

000. — the prologue — [As the dust settles, Din can't shake the weight of an indescribable feeling. A feeling that he's done something he can never make amends for. Little does he know, fate has plans to intervene and an unknown ally is on their way to his aid.] 001. — the force of nature — [As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.] 002. — the battle for the baby — [Din and his partner fight as one, their expertise unrivaled as they battle the Imperial agents. Their unwavering determination to protect the Child drives them forward, overcoming every obstacle with fierce resolve.] 003. — the escape — [Din and his partner, along with the droid and the Child, find themselves in a tense standoff with the guild leader Greef Karga. With blasters drawn, they stand united to protect the Child at all costs.]

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

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samantha-rae-velcher · 10 months

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Past comes to haunt, future to save

Din Djarin x Fem reader

Requested by: none

Warnings: Jealousy, Swearing, violence, sexual tension, use of a knife, spicy at the end.

A/n: 18+ NSFW if you don't like the Warnings please don't read

___

They had gotten a communication from some guy that Din knew from way back, apparently they used to fly together. Y/n was not happy with this, she could feel something wrong the minute they landed the crest in the hanger.

"I don't like this." She said as Din turned in his chair, getting up to leave the cockpit. "Hey."

Y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

"Do you trust this guy?" She asked.

Din looked down at her hand that was gripped to his bicep.

"This doesn't feel right." Her voice came out just above a whisper.

Din gently caressed her cheek, making Y/n close her eyes.

"I don't like this either. Any sign of trouble, we'll leave."

___

Din and Y/n walked around the hanger with the man, he seemed smug. She kept glancing at the ship, making sure no one was fucking with it.

The three of them went back down to the crest, the man introduced them to a guy called Migs Mayfield. And a Droid that looked like a bug they called him Zero. A big red ugly mother fucker with horns.

"That's Burg." Mayfield said.

Y/n made a disgusted face when Burg shaped up to Din, she took note on how her mandalorian didn't budge even when the red man attempted to scare him.

"I thought you said you had four." Din's voice was gruff, it made a shiver run up Y/n's spine.

"He does." A woman said from behind them.

Y/n turned and furrowed her brows at the sight of a purple Twi'lek. Her fists clenched and uncleaned as the woman stalked closer.

"Hello, Mando." She whispered.

"Xi'an."

Y/n looked over at Din, his voice sounded full of adoration. It made her roll her eyes and look at the razor crest.

"Tell me why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand?" Xi'an suddenly came at Mando only to have Y/n's blade against her throat.

"Because I will fuckin kill you." She growled.

The giggle she let out was sickening, it made Y/n sneer.

"You're his new companion?"

Y/n felt Din's hand press against the small of her back, causing her to lower her weapon and step back.

"Its nice to see you too." Din murmured.

Xi'an smiled and came closer to Mando, she ran her knife down his chest plate and made a clicking sound.

"Ive missed you." She tapped it against his armor and attempted to make eye contact through the visor. "This is shinny. You wear it well."

Mayfield looked over with a confused expression.

"Do we need to leave the room or something?"

The main man that called them there, stepped up and pushed his way into this dog shit of an interaction.

"Well, Xi'an has been heartbroken since Mando left our group."

"Awww." Mayfield mocked. "Are you gonna be okay sweetheart?"

"I'm all business now." Xi'an pointed her dagger at Din. "I learned from the best."

Y/n shook her head and flipped her hands in the air, as the jealousy rose in her.

"That's all well and good! Can we get the fuck going!?"

"What's wrong? Are you scared Xi'an will take your Mandalorian owner."

Y/n grabbed Mayfield by the front of his shirt and pulled him close.

"I am not his pet."

"Sure looks like that to me."

___

Y/n, Mayfield, Xi'an, and Burg all sat in the cargo hold as Din was watching over Zero's shoulder in the cockpit.

"How long have you been with Mando?" Xi'an asked.

"Since he collected his bounty and handed me over, but I kicked the ever loving shit out of the men who wanted me. And I snuck back to his ship and opened the door for him when he arrived."

Mayfield's brows shot up his forehead. "You were his bounty?"

"Yeah."

Burg began digging through Dins stuff, opening the door to his weapons closet, only for Din to shut it in his face. The red devil lookin fucker turned and tried towering over Mando again, growling and huffing.

"You wouldn't scare a sleeping kitten. Sit your fat red ass down!" Y/n yelled.

Mayfield joined in. "Im a little particular about my personal space too, let's just get this done and you'll never see our faces again."

"Tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." Burg grumbled.

"Because apparently they are some the greatest warriors in the galaxy."

Burg looked between Mayfield and Din.

"Then why are they all dead."

"You flew with him Xi'an. Is he as great as they say?" Mayfield asked.

"Ask him about the job on Alzok III."

Everyone looked over at Din.

"I did what I had to do."

"Oh but you liked it." Xi'an smiled and pointed her knife at him. "You see, I know who you really are."

"D- Mando....what is she talking about?" Y/n asked.

Din shook his head. "You don't have to worry about it."

Mayfield chuckled. "He never takes off the helmet."

Xi'an fallowed in his humor and shook her head, they looked over at Y/n.

"You ever seen his face?" Mayfield asked.

"No, and if he ever takes off the mask....I hope I'm blindfolded."

"Why?"

Y/n glanced at Din, then back at Migs.

"This is the way."

Her words made Dins heart race. He never knew that she respected his creed, he always thought she found it a nuisance because she couldn't see his face.

"Your just as weak as he is." Burg said in a gruff tone, making Y/n spin around and get right up in his face.

"Neither of us are weak, and you'll find that out come whatever the fuck it is your planning."

___

The group had finally gotten to the prison ship, they were running through the corridors fighting off droids all the while listening to zero over the ear piece.

Y/n pulled Din into a corner, she held her finger up to her lips and kept her grip on his bicep. Four droids passed by, Y/n looked over watching them walk up the hallway. She could feel Dins gaze on her, his thumb came up to caress her cheek.

"You don't have to be jealous." He whispered.

She locked her eyes on his visor, the deep black was almost bone chilling. If he was anyone else, she would be afraid.

"Jealous of what? Xi'an? I'm not."

"I never mentioned Xi'an....you did."

Y/n felt his hand move to her hip, gently squeezing. Her breath hitched at the warmth his hand spread over her body.

"Din I-"

"Hey are you guys coming!?" Migs yelled from down the hall.

The five of them made it to the control room, zero was babbling about a organic signature in the room but Migs didn't listen.

"Yeah yeah, open the door!"

They entered the room and man jumped out of his chair, pointing a blaster at them. Burg and Mayfield circled him, the man was obviously scared.

This went on for a good few minutes, Din trying to talk him into putting his weapon down. Mayfield yelling at din, both of them pointing their blasters at each other.

And it all led to Xi'an killing the poor bastard.

"Would you all shut up." She said in a bored voice.

Din looked over at Y/n who was glaring at Xi'an. He had never seen such anger in her eyes, she looked as if she wanted to kill her.

"You didn't have to kill him."

Xi'an stood, her smile made Y/n sick. "It was quicker than negotiating. none of you had it under control, so I killed him. All you were doing is waisting time."

Xi'an then ran out the door, the others fallowing until Din stopped and turned back to Y/n. She was standing there looking down at the poor man's body.

"Y/n, we have to get moving." He whispered.

"This is what you did? Killed innocents when they stood in your way? Is that what you did?"

"No."

"I'm having a hard time believing that." Y/n got closer, she could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. "What was Xi'an talking about back on the ship?"

"Hey Mando! You coming!?" Mayfield yelled from down the hall.

"Something is going on." Y/n whispered, handing him the distress beacon the man was holding. "They're up to something and I don't fuckin like it."

With that she made her way to the others, Din looked down at the dead officer on the floor as he left the control room.

The group ran through the halls once more, Burg battered down on a big droid and threw it to the floor. A droid came walking around the corner yelling "Intruder alert!", Y/n grabbed it by the neck and slammed it into the wall, pulling it's head off. Sparks flew as it's body fell limp, the prisoners cheered and hollered as the group continued down the hallway.

They made it to the cell, Mayfield opened the door and inside was a male Twi'lek. Y/n frowned, this guy was no doubt Xi'an's brother.

"Qin." Din said.

"Mando, funny the man who left me behind us now my savior."

Burg grabbed Y/n and threw her into Din, they stumbled into the cell and landed on their backs. Just as the door was about to close Din fired his blaster, it bounced off the door and the walls. Mando covered Y/n as the blaster bolt hit him in the beskar.

"I told you this wasn't right! Did I not say they were up to something!?" She yelled, clenching her fist as she landed a punch to the door.

Din pulled her over by the arm, he gripped her wrist and examined her hand. Her knuckles her bleeding and her hand was shaking.

"Calm down." He said, pressing his forehead to hers. Y/n closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cold beskar against her skin.

"Din, they know the kid is in the bunk. If they get to crest chances are they're gonna hurt him."

"That's why they won't make it to the crest."

___

Mayfield and the rest of the fuck head brigade made it half way back to the ship when Zero came on the coms.

"Zero to Mayfield, we have a problem."

"What is it!?"

"They have escaped."

"AHH!" Xi'an yelled. She pointed her dagger at migs, getting really close. "I told you we should've ended them."

"I know I know."

Suddenly the lights turned red, they all felt their hearts jump into their throats as the door closed between them.

"Brother!"

"Zero! Where is he!?" Mayfield yelled. "Zero!?"

"Sister." Qin said. "Go with the Devaronian. Find Mando and kill him, Mayfield and I will try and make it back to the ship."

___

Y/n fallowed Din through the corridors, they ducked into a large vent and Din held his finger up to his helmet, motioning for Y/n to be quiet as Burg and Xi'an ran by.

When silence covered the area, Y/n let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Din looked out of the vent and started to leave when she grabbed his arm and pulled him back in.

"You go after Burg, and I go for Xi'an." Y/n whispered.

He nodded and left the vent, Y/n crawled further in and went up an air shaft. She made her way through the ceiling until she found the female Twi'lek, Xi'an was creepy through like the vial little roach she was.

Y/n dropped down, landing behind her. Xi'an turned around and threw her dagger at Y/n. She caught it and ran at the Twi', grabbing her shoulders and kicking her in the stomach. Y/n flipped her over her shoulder and slammed her head against the wall, successfully knocking her out.

Y/n ran up the hall with Xi'an in tow, she was about to run passed a cell when she saw Burg out cold laying on the floor. She shrugged and harshly threw the Twi'lek in there with him.

Y/n was rounding a corner when she heard footsteps behind her, she spun around and took a swing, her fist was caught and she was held against the door of another cell. To her surprise and pleasure it was Din, she felt warmth rush to her core when she realized what a vulnerable spot he has her in.

"Din." She said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Don't attack if you can't over power your opponent."

He released her wrist, slowly sliding his hands down her arms, making Y/n shiver.

"Have you found Mayfield?" She asked.

"Not yet."

"We should probably start looking."

"Yeah....we should."

Y/n kept her eyes locked on Din's visor as she moved around him. He tilted his head and fallowed her with his gaze.

"You coming?" She asked.

He nodded and they started towards the exit. Y/n turned in the direction of where she could hear Mayfield trying to contact Zero, she nodded to Din and he began walking to Mig's voice. Y/n on the other hand kept going towards the ship, she made it to the latter just in time to run into Qin.

She felt a blaster press to the back of her neck, a dark chuckle rang out from behind her, making Y/n cringe.

She turned around and raised her hands up, Qin stood there with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Mando's little woman." He said. "He down graded from my sister to you?"

"If you ask me I'd say it was an upgrade."

"No one asked you."

"I don't need your permission to speak."

Qin chuckled and began rambling off about how he was gonna hold her as a hostage and Mando was gonna give him the crest and how the two of them were gonna be stuck here and blah blah blah.

Din came up behind him and smacked Qin over the head with a droid arm. Y/n smiled as the Twi'lek fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"The kid." She said, turning around and scrambled up the latter. Y/n froze when she saw Zero pointing his rifle at Grogu, she felt rage as she ran up and knocked him over. Y/n ignited her lightsaber, slicing through the middle of the droid.

The sound of Din dragging Qin up the latter startled Y/n. She quickly hid her saber and ran to help.

___

They had gotten rid of Qin and the man that hired them, and now they were on their way to God knows where. Y/n and Din sat in the cockpit, watching the stars race by. She bit her lip as she remembered being pressed against the wall by the mandalorian, the sound of his voice as he stared her down.

The thought of what he could've done to her in that moment made a quiet moan slip past her lips. Din's head slowly turned towards her, Y/n's heart raced when she felt the heat of his gaze burning into her.

"Y/n." He said in a gruff tone.

"Hmm?"

"Come."

He wasn't giving her opinions here, that was a command. Din held his hand out for her, she stood up and took it as she slowly made her way into his lap. Y/n could feel his erection through his flight suit, he grunted as she pressed her hand down and palmed at his cock.

Din gripped her hips, pushing her off and turning her to face the control panel removing her leather belt and pants, he then brought her back down against his chest. Din spread her legs with his so she was exposed for all who dared to take a gander at his woman.

"I won't be gentle, little one." He whispered.

THE END ❤️

Part 2?

I hope you enjoyed

Reblogs are welcome 🤗

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brainrotparsecsaway · 3 days

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Time sure flies fast

Since today it has officially been a year since I've started to actively draw these idiots!! :D

I have @keep-the-socks-on-karta to blame for this

Quasar has actually existed for like two years at this point, but I had very little lore for him at the time Tranyc and Korar were hurled at me

Well i can't really complain, I love these idiots to death

Leyc doesn't appear in this because he actually didn't exist when I drew the original version (maybe 11 months ago?) of this since if you've been around that was my old banner

It's kind of funny thinking back on how he didn't even exist as an idea and yet Tranyc might as well have described him here

And that comes into play in lore later don't you worry ;)

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redahlia-writes · 2 years

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watching the world from the sidelines. | din djarin x f!reader

Abstract: An almost Jedi and a no longer Mandalorian - two people whose life had been dedicated to fighting, suddenly finding solace in the tranquility they brought to each other’s life. Quite the pair you made.

Words: 5.7K

Warnings: MINORS DNI, reader was a jedi, possible lore inaccuracies, vague mention of wounds, a disgusting amount of softness, helmet? what helmet, inappropriate use of the force/misuse of the force, smut (body worship, oral, unprotected sex, cockwarming), unedited - heavy descriptions

A/N: this was not what i had planned when i thought of this fic. it was supposed to be way quicker and overall just an improper use of the force - then i got into my feels a lil bit and this is what happened. i have a weakness for soft!din. vaguely inspired by sidelines by phoebe bridgers

also on AO3 - masterlist

What you were doing was, according to the Jedi Code, dangerous. Irresponsible.

Good thing, you thought, the Jedis were no longer.

You could almost hear the voice of your former master, telling you the risks you were taking were too many, too big. He would scold you for your behavior, for your daring.

But you were a good teacher.

And the Mandalorian had come to you. He’d asked for your help. He’d offered to pay handsomely for his child to learn how to properly harness his power without forgoing himself.

And, truly, you’d grown fond of the little one. He’d brought a new vitality to your home, to your life, the sound of his laughter and the humming of his power growing familiar as days, weeks, months went by.

The agreement was that Grogu would stay with you while his father went where the next job took him, only to come back with his credits and the burning desire to be with the kid. In the beginning, he spent his spare time with him, either taking him away for a few hours, a few days, vanishing on his Starfighter with a polite nod - you never knew if he stayed on Lah’mu or brought the child somewhere else. Oftentimes he would be back before night came, and you’d have a room ready for each of them.

It was an odd arrangement, a co-parenting of sorts, though you never referred to Grogu as anything more than a pupil out loud - no matter the affection you had for him, the knickknacks you’d add to his room while he was away only to relish in the delight on his face, the time you learned to spend preparing meals for him and his father.

Leaving your former life behind, the Jedi way, meant that you’d found yourself losing what you craved the most: attachments. Communion. People. Your refusal of leading a truly solitary life, free of connections, free of ties, was the reason why you’d never become a Jedi in name, why the Council had turned its back on you.

It would’ve been so easy to fall into the darkness then, when you’d lost everything your life had been for, when you’d even left your home - but somehow, you’d remained balanced, in spite of the times you’d been called a hothead, a troublemaker, a waste of your talents.

For a while, you’d nonetheless been alone, unable to trust, unable to come out of the fortress built around you on fertile land and a mountain giving you shade.

Then the Mandalorian had arrived. You remembered the day so clearly.

—

He’d landed a field away from your house - he couldn’t see it from up above, hidden away for your own protection. With Grogu’s pram following behind, the child tired from the trip, Din made his way ahead, wary of his surroundings.

Still, he didn’t see you coming, didn’t hear you until you had a weapon pointed right at him, forcing him to stillness.

“Don’t take another step,” he lifted his hands in surrender as the blue blade grazed the bottom of his helmet, heat rising up underneath his visor. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”

He didn’t know then that you were scared, both of what remained of the Jedis and of the Empire. He didn’t know all you wanted was to be at peace, and were ready to do anything to maintain it. It was, after all, the reason you’d ended up isolating yourself.

“I didn’t find you - he did,” your gaze followed his hand towards the floating sphere behind him. You eyed it with a little frown, eyes moving from him to the off-white surface of the pram. “My name is Din Djarin,” you returned your gaze to him. “Are you a Jedi?” the words seemed to ricochet like a slap across your cheek, eyes flashing dangerously as you backed away, lightsaber still lifted.

“There are no Jedis here, Mandalorian, you’re wasting your time,” you started stepping away from him furthermore, grip tightening around the hilt of the lightsaber. “Go away.”

“Wait,” he called, taking a step in your direction - only to be met with a solid, invisible wall. He lifted his hands, resting them against the obstacle as he tilted his head just a little. “Please, he brought us here. I can’t help him with what he needs.” “What makes you think I can?” he straightened his head, tapping gently against the barrier. “Okay - what makes you think I will?”

As if on cue, the dome of the pram opened, revealing the big, sleepy eyes of the child - he yawned, ears twitched as he picked in the foreign surroundings and then you, your weapon still up towards the Mandalorian, your curious gaze on him.

Din looked at the two of you, the way Grogu’s head tilted and he cooed softly, a greeting all of his own. Ever so slowly, the barrier gave way under his hands, and the lightsaber retreated.

“Alright,” you said at last, hanging the weapon to your belt. “But the saber you have with you - that won’t come into my house.”

Underneath the helmet, Mando frowned. “I have other weapons,” he pointed out, and you gave him a pointed look. “I know,” you retorted, turning on your heels and marching on. Grogu hopped off his pram and scurried along you, darting in between Din’s legs. “That doesn’t mean you’d be able to use them against me.”

—

That had been six months prior.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Grogu’s teachings (he could be easily bribed into learning with treats and trinkets), and you’d grown used to Din’s presence more and more. It seemed to you the more time passed, the more prolonged his stays became.

You welcomed him each time - it was easy for him to slip into a sort of familiarity, of ease.

“He’s asleep?” you wondered as he reached your side by the fire - it was such a lovely night outside, it had felt like a pity to have dinner behind closed doors.

The child had ran after fireflies until he was spent, toddling towards his father’s legs, arms lifted to be picked up. Din had obliged with a benign smile - he looked pretty in the firelight, his helmet aside, the shine of his armor still covering the rest of his body reflecting the flames across the planes of his skin. You knew better than to entertain the thought for too long.

“Didn’t even make it to the living room before he was snoring,” he replied, chuckling lightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re working him too hard.”

You liked it more when he was relaxed enough to tease, make a joke, the soft smile bending his lips appearing warmer each time you looked at him. Perhaps it was just you who grew warm at his side, a welcomed burning in the pit of your stomach whenever you met his dark, gentle eyes.

“I could never,” you gasped in mock offense, resting a hand on your chest. In response, Din laughed, eyes crinkling. You softened a little by his side, chin tipped up towards him to take in the brightness of his expression. “He’s doing really well - he would’ve been top of his class back at the Temple.”

“They convinced you to work with cookies there, too?” it was your turn to laugh, shaking your head. Din adored when you laughed like that, your teeth showing and your head slightly tilted back, eyes closed. He had the suspicion you hadn’t done that in a while, too worried guarding yourself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Have I made the right decision?” you frowned lightly, turning cross-legged to look up at him with an unasked question in your gaze. Din sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Wanting him with me rather than following Skywalker’s teachings. And then looking for you.”

“I can’t answer that for you, Din,” you told him softly, reaching up to rest your hand on his knee. His gaze fell to where your bodies touched and, self-consciously, you curled back your fingers with a sigh. “But Grogu was willing to renounce his abilities to be with you - he loves you very much.”

His eyes were still on your hand as he tugged onto his gloves a little, the movement going almost undetected by you. He shifted in his seat then, clearing his throat and returning his gaze to your face.

“What about you?” for just a moment, the breath caught in your throat. “Why aren’t you a Jedi?” “It’s…” you hesitated. “It’s a solitary life, no matter how you look at it. A life dedicated to fighting, nothing - no one else,” you shrugged lightly, looking down at your reflection in his armor for a moment, then away. “Something I wasn’t really ready to commit to.”

“But you’ve lived alone for - what, years?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yes - the irony, am I right?” you chuckled almost humorlessly, then chewed on your lip for an instant. “I don’t think I realized how truly alone I was until the two of you came along. It reminded me why I left.” “Why’s that?” he was genuinely curious. For all the time spent thinking about it, you’d never imagined someone else would want to know.

“Family,” you admitted, voice low. “Someone to take care of, and who’d take care of me - the way you do for each other,” you looked back up at him, only to find him already looking at you, that curiosity in his eyes you knew he’d never learned to conceal underneath his helmet.

“Do you see yourself having one of your own?”

Yes. No. I don’t know, I never dared to think about it out here on my own.

“Maybe,” you shrugged again, chewing on the soft flesh of your cheek. “I don’t know. But at least I didn’t renounce the idea,” he shifted in his seat again. “Din -” you started.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, and by the way your eyebrows arched he knew he hadn’t convinced you. It baffled him how easily you’d learned to read him, even long before he took off his helmet in front of you.

He wondered if it had anything to do with the Force.

“Did you injure yourself again?” you sighed, shifting closer. “I’m fine, it’s just -” he hesitated, not wanting to meet your gaze. “I can’t always control the Darksaber.”

“Show me,” he went to protest, but your hand rested on his knee again, stopping the words in his throat. “Show me,” you repeated, a little firmer.

Din sighed - he knew how stubborn you could get, had seen it in the way you held your ground during Grogu’s training. So he undid the fastening of the armor, taking off the piece that covered his left arm and the injury he sported on his forearm, covered by the shirt. You took off his glove before he could, carefully rolling his sleeve up.

“It’s not even that bad, I’ve had worse - I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he admitted. You reached out with your hand, not touching him, but the wound started mending itself together - he’d seen you do it other times, on yourself or on him, even on Grogu once. Still, it never ceased to amaze him.

“This is what you’re doing wrong,” you said softly, offering him a smile. “It can feel your doubts, it knows not to respond because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you,” he scoffed lightly. “If you trust your blade, it’ll trust you. It’s how these things work.”

“Even the Force?” he wondered, leaning unconsciously in your direction. “Especially the Force,” you nodded, gaze wandering across his face once more. He felt the curls on his forehead shift lightly, like a gust of wind ruffling it in spite of the stillness of the air. “The Darksaber - you can see it. You feel its weight, its shape. The Force - you can feel it, but you can’t hold it. It’s not tangible, you just have to trust it.”

“Don’t you ever doubt it?” the air moved across his cheek, and he felt himself leaning towards it. Your smile grew, wide enough it brightened your whole face, and Din took a shuddering breath in - Maker, when had he started wanting to kiss you so badly it physically ached him to restrain himself?

“How could I?” you shook your head lightly, rubbing the palm of your left hand with your right thumb, a self-soothing of sorts. “I can feel it everywhere, in everything and everyone - it’s the one thing I never doubted.”

“Can you -” he hesitated, his eyes moving towards the fire, towards the house, anywhere to avoid the weight of your own. “I mean I’ve seen you use it, and Grogu, but I’ve never -” “Close your eyes,” he turned his head to look at you as you shifted towards him, kneeling on the ground right in front of him, your back to the fire, neck craned back to look at him. He wanted to reach out, feel the warmth of your skin underneath his raring palms. “Trust me, Din.”

He wondered if you knew how deeply he trusted you already.

How he hadn’t felt the slightest sense of dread at the thought of leaving Grogu with you. While he was away, he missed his child - but he knew he was safe. Protected. When night came and he was alone, he wanted nothing more than to feel like that, too.

Going away had started becoming increasingly harder the more he thought about it.

He closed his eyes, shifting a little on his seat.

“Keep them closed,” you warned, a rustling of robes as you sat back on your heels. “I will, I will,” he said with a quiet, nervous laughter - then held his breath.

The feeling of your hand resting on his cheek had him tense slightly, warmth spreading across his face in the wake of your touch. It was a tingling sensation that moved to his other cheek as well, holding him as you brushed your thumbs over his cheekbones, ticklish and delicate.

Slowly, one hand reached behind his head, fingers buried between his curls - he leaned into your touch, lips parting involuntarily with a content sigh. The other hand moved down, across his throat, stopping right on the edge of his armor with a light pressure.

He wondered - if he reached out now, would he be able to hold you? You felt so close, he only ought to move his hand upwards, searching blindly for you.

“Open your eyes,” the whisper was distant, like it had been carried by the wind from the top of the mountain.

Din obliged, unable to remain still as he leaned forward and reached out to you - and grasped nothing but air. You were still kneeling in front of him, head slightly tilted as you looked at him, hands folded on your lap. The same hands he still felt gently brushing his hair, or above his chest.

Clenching his fists once, he brought one hand up to where it felt like his heart would leap out of his chest, trying to reach for something that wasn’t there - for you.

“It feels so real,” he murmured, and a little smile appeared on your face. Just like that, the pressure on his chest vanished, though it still felt like you were cupping the nape of his neck. “It is,” you moved, lifting from your half seated position to get closer to him. “It’s just a little bit different,” you shrugged, reaching then to touch his face.

His stubble scratched your palm gently as he nuzzled against it, turning his head just enough so that the corner of his lips was brushing your hand, eyes never leaving your face.

He had a peculiar look in his eyes, somehow both relaxed and watchful. He cupped his hand over yours, palm warm and hardened by the years of work, gently prying your hand away to expose your wrist.

He bowed his head, looking at you through his eyelashes as he kissed the tender flesh right above your pulse. There was reverence in his touch that had your stomach turning at the gentle pressure of his thumb in the center of your palm. His other hand, still gloved, wrapped around your waist.

Slowly, you rose to your feet, only to cross the small distance between the two of you, your other hand coming to rest on the side of his neck, thumb stroking his jaw and gently pushing his chin up so that you could still look at him. He gave a tentative smile that quickly vanished as you swept your thumb across his bottom lip, mouth parting with a stifled gasp.

The silence was broken only by the sound of your breaths, of the fire behind you, of the night creatures that wandered the distant fields and mountains. Wrapped in your small bubble, the rest of the Galaxy faded into nothingness.

Din said your name then, so hushed you could’ve missed it had you not been focused on him only - had you not been looking at the way his lips moved, felt it right under your touch.

“Can we go inside?” No one ever passed by, especially not so late at night - but the Mandalorian didn’t want anybody as witness. Not even the stars. He wanted it to be just the two of you.

So you took his hands in yours and led him inside the house, the fire smothered behind you without a second glance - any other time, he would’ve remained to watch it, but in that moment he just could turn his gaze from you. He let you guide him in the dark, careful steps to not trip nor risk waking the kid who slept on the other side of the house.

He’d never been in your room, and lingered for a moment at the door - it felt like stepping into a sanctum, your presence so utterly clear in every corner of the four walls. The whole house had a sense of being lived in - he’d noticed it the first time he’d stepped inside, with its books and mismatched pillows and no curtains to let the light in - but your room was familiar, the warmth he experienced by your side made into a space.

He brought one hand to your cheek as you turned to him, slowly tracing a half-moon across your cheek with his gloved knuckle. Your eyes fluttered shut, the touch so delicate it weakened your knees.

“Din,” a single sound, uttered breathlessly as you stepped closer - enough to make his resolve fail.

Your chin held between his index and thumb, he leaned in to press a kiss against your already parted lips. He kept it slow, each shuddering breath making his head spin as he felt himself melting into you, the sweet aftertaste of sunberry wine lingering in your mouth. It made you tremble against him, hands grasping at bits and pieces of his armor.

“Can I take this off?” your voice sounded distant from above the rushing of your heart, pulling your head just slightly back to meet his gaze. Pupils dilated and lips reddened, Din looked back at you. “I want to feel you,” you added, a mere whisper he responded to with a sharp inhale.

He nodded, a quick yes falling from his mouth. He could still see your hands resting on his chest as the fastenings of the armor started loosening around him, beskar sliding down his body. Unable to stop himself, he smiled.

When you kissed him again, armor cast aside, it was a little more urgent, ghost hands tracing the line of his spine up to the nape of his neck where your hands rested, drawing him closer. It caused him to moan softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist gently while backing you towards the bed.

Fingers buried in his hair, you slowly reached down his torso, stomach, past the waistband of his trousers. A surprised groan muffled against your lips when he felt you stroke him, causing his steps to falter.

“Maker,” he tensed a little, stopping himself from bucking his hips into you. “Sorry,” you mused, a wide smile spreading across your lips. “Couldn’t help myself,” you tilted your head a little, hand cupping his cheek as you left quick pecks across his jaw.

“Again,” he reached for the knot of your robe, tugging on it lightly. “Do it again, please.”

You did, still kissing his face and neck, stroking his half-hardened length once, twice, causing his eyes to flutter shut, soft mumbled praises leaving his mouth as he arched towards your touch.

“We can stop whenever you want, Din,” the reassurance had him lean into you almost fully, stepping further backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed. “I don’t want to stop,” his voice had lowered, a rasp in it as he regained his breath. “I want you.”

Agonizingly slow, he started undoing the knot of your robe, pausing only to tug off his glove. Your eyes remained on his face as he casted his gaze down towards your body - his lips slightly parted, long breaths in and out as, inch by inch of uncovered skin, he pushed the fabric down, taking you in.

Past your shoulder and down your arms, Din took his time brushing his fingertips across your skin, over old scars, then up across your collarbones, sternum, following the shape of your breasts from above your bra, your breath itching in response to his warm palms cupping you, only to keep on sliding downwards, over your stomach, abdomen, hips, your own hands holding firmly his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

“Cyarir,” he called, voice hoarse, rolling his hips at the ghost hands quickening strokes. “I really can’t focus with you doing that,” he bowed his head, brushing his lips across yours as you chuckled lightly, chest heaving as he toyed with the hem of your own trousers. You lifted your hands from his shoulders as if in surrender, only to let them fall at each side of his head, brushing his curls back. “Jat’ad.”

With one last kiss against your mouth, he dipped his head, nudging your chin up with his nose to kiss the column of your throat and, from there, make his way down across your chest. You almost succumbed underneath the warm trail of his kisses, but couldn’t find it in yourself to look away as Din sank to his knees in front of you, resting his forehead against your belly while helping you out of your trousers fully, hands wandering across the back of your thighs.

“Din,” his name chanted like a prayer as he opened your legs a little, leaning in to kiss your clothed core. The quiet hum of his response had your hand flying to his hair, holding yourself upright as he looked up at you.

Pulling just slightly back, he hooked his fingers to the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down your legs without moving his gaze from your face, caressing your slightly trembling legs on his way down. He cupped his hand around your ankle, gently lifting one of your legs up - it exposed you to him and the air, a shiver running down your spine.

You weren’t entirely sure how you were still standing, Din’s hand possibly the only thing keeping you from crumbling.

He leaned in again, leaving quick, gentle bites across your thigh draped over his shoulder, before placing a kiss against your folds. Your reaction was immediate, hips bucking to gain some friction as a strangled noise left your sealed lips.

“We can stop whenever you want, cyarir,” he repeated your words teasingly, kneading your thigh as he shifted closer. He wondered how far he could take it, just for a moment. “No,” it came out as a weak whine, fingers curling through his hair as he wet his lips. “I want to feel you,” you repeated - just like that, Din’s will crumbled.

Still holding you, he swept his tongue between your folds, slick gathering on his lips as you grinded against him, mouth falling open with a gasp. Tugging a little on his hair, you weren’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. He dug his fingers into your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he drew small circles around the bundle of your clit.

Your mind went blank, crying out as you swayed while he picked up a slow, steady rhythm - you could feel his gaze on you, but were unable to open your own eyes.

He felt you reach down for him. With one hand still in his hair following the slight bobbing of his head, and the other resting on your thigh, fingers interlocked with his, it took him a moment to register the pressure against his growing erection, his hips shifting and rutting into the air with a groan.

“Don’t,” he breathed out, and the vibration of his voice made you tremble, legs kept still only by his hands. “Just let me take care of you.”

It was nearly enough to send you over the edge, squeezing his hand while he returned his mouth on you, a quicker pace you seconded by rolling your hips. It felt like he could read your mind, shifting rhythm, alternating between licking and sucking gently, holding you tighter whenever you felt like the floor was giving out underneath you.

Your orgasm built up quickly, thighs shaking around him as your breath grew shallower.

“Din,” you called, involuntarily tugging onto his hair a little harsher. He groaned in response, and you clenched around him, the tip of his nose nudging your clit. “Din, I’m not gonna last, I’m -” a choked sob left you, head thrown back.

“I’ve got you,” you almost didn’t hear him, the ringing in your ears growing as you climaxed, all but folding over him as he coaxed it all out of you. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, and helped you sit back on the bed behind you, your leg still on his shoulder, climbing after you.

He remained with his face buried in you a few more instants. When he moved his head up, his face glistened with your release. An unconscious groan left your throat at the sight, reaching for him - you weren’t sure whether with your actual hands or through the Force, grasping at the front of his shirt to pull him on top of you.

You kissed him, still out of breath - there was something decadent in tasting yourself on his mouth, your whole body responding to it by arching towards his touch. His hand, making its way slowly up from your thigh, your hip, your waist, gliding across the ribcage until he was cupping your still clothed breast.

“You’re overdressed,” you mumbled, tilting your head to hide in the crook of his neck, gasping softly at his touches. His shirt riding up his back, he could feel the delicate scratching of your nails across his skin. “So are you,” he retorted, and you snorted, pulling your head back to look at him.

“No, I’m not,” the hand not busy rolling up his shirt reached up for his face, cupping his cheek and running your thumb across his flushed skin. Lifting your torso a little, you helped him undo your bra, leaning back to bare yourself fully to him. His gaze wandered down across you once more, tongue darting between his swollen lips. “You’re pretty, Din.”

It caught him by surprise, words softly caressing his face as his eyes widened and he returned to look up at your face, an abrupt, bashful smile on his mouth. A smile he’d chosen to show you, over and over again during the previous months. You leaned in, a quick peck at the corner of his mouth before flipping the two of you over, straddling his lap.

Din’s hands flew to your hips, a strangled moan captured between sealed lips as he bucked underneath you. Head slightly tilted, you helped him out of his shirt, then slowly trailing your hands across his chest as you leaned in - mimicking him, you left a trail of burning kisses along his skin, agonizingly making your way down his stomach, your hands following short.

All the while, ghost hands palmed him, his trousers getting achingly tight the shorter his breaths got. He groaned when he felt the fabric sliding down his legs, kicking them off along with his underwear.

“Cyarir, please,” he looked down at you, your lips still latched to the skin of his torso, light lovebites following in your wake. He reached for you, hands wrapped around your wrists and tugging you back up over him. “Just need you,” he bit out, guiding you on him again.

Locked between your thighs, Din arched upwards to grind against you - his hardened length sliding between your folds, coating himself with your slick, causing you to close your eyes with a shudder. One hand left you to align himself, the tip of his cock pushing into you slowly.

He guided you down, stretching you out while his hands gently kneaded your sides, hushed whispers of encouragement lost through the bliss that had you hold your breath, muscles twitching.

When Din’s arm wrapped around you, holding you against him to ease you on your back, the shifting made you cry out his name once more, a supplication as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. He cursed under his breath as your legs locked around him, heels digging in the back of his thighs, spurring him on gently.

His first thrusts were slow, almost hesitant, hands pushed into the mattress to keep himself from weighing on you. Threading one hand through his hair, you tugged back on it slightly, turning your head to meet his eyes - a frown knitted his brow, and you reached up to smooth it down.

“I’m not going to break, Din,” you reassured him, lifting yourself a little to meet him halfway - the snap of your hips connecting had him moan audibly, mouth hanging open. He picked up his pace a little, steady and rhythmic as he moved almost all the way out of you and then back in. “That’s it,” you breathed out, head falling backwards and eyes fluttering shut. “Maker - that’s it, like that.”

The combination of your words and keening at each of his thrusts spurred him further - a little deeper, a little harder, your walls fluttering around him making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

You started trembling again underneath him, and he let his head fall forward, searching for a rough kiss. He faltered, stuttering thrusts as he let out a low whine, feeling you clench around him.

“So close, cyar’ika,” he breathed out, arms shaking a little under his weight. He called your name, reaching down to hold your hip as you arched against him once more. “So close.”

“I’ve got you,” his own words repeated as you brought your arms around his shoulders, one hand still buried in his hair to guide him down towards the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You wrapped yourself around him, legs locking behind him and arms holding him to your chest as he collapsed with a final sough, hips pushed flush against yours. He twitched inside you, gripping your side a little harder - there’d be marks the following day, but you found yourself not minding it one bit, too lost in the second wave of pleasure that hit you.

Din’s warm breath hit your damp skin as he exhaled, brushing his lips to your sternum at the culmination of his release, one last, lazy shift as he attempted to move from above and inside you. In response, you tightened your hold on him.

“Stay,” you hummed, stroking his curls back from his forehead. “Just a moment.” “I’ll crush you,” he retorted, idly caressing your side. “Stay,” you repeated, all but melting under him, into the bed, bringing his weight with you.

An almost Jedi and a no longer Mandalorian - two people whose life had been dedicated to fighting, suddenly finding solace in the tranquility they brought to each other’s life. Quite the pair you made.

“I was thinking about what you said,” he mumbled tiredly, the corner of his mouth caressing your skin. You hummed in acknowledgment, struggling to keep your eyes fully open while running your hand through Din’s hair. “You’ve been taking care of us for a while already, cyarir - let us take care of you. Let me do that,” he moved his head so that he could look at you as you forced your eyes open, a flush spreading across your face. He reached to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your bitten bottom lip swiftly, gently. “Let us be your family.”

You drew him closer, hand resting under his chin to tip his head back and kiss him, softly. He sighed into the kiss, lips parting as he shifted a little, the movement causing you both to whine as he slipped out of you.

“Ner kar’ta,” he murmured, moving until he was hovering over you again, arms braced at each side of your head - the mattress shifted with him. “Let me take care of you.”

“You already are,” your hands cupping his face, his stubble scratching your palms already all too familiar. “You don’t know how lonely I was before you arrived here - you have no idea how much your presence has helped me,” the softness in your gaze had him kneel down between your legs for extra support as you caressed along his cheek, the side of his neck, his shoulder, lifting your head to nuzzle the tip of your nose against his. “My wonderful, sweet boys.”

He felt it everywhere. Felt you. Hands and gentle kisses and soft words wrapped around him like a whole new armor, one he’d want to take with him everywhere he went, while never leaving your side.

Neither of you had ever had the possibility to express the feelings lingering in your heart out loud - neither of you had ever learned how. So when he kissed you again, you welcomed him in, over and over and over.

For the first time in years, it was easy to fall asleep and not feel regret about a life left behind - not when it had brought you in the arms of the man who held you like you were holy.

Like he was finally home.

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manofbeskar · 7 months

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fynn kabakoff — a mandalorian mercenary who puts her people and culture before all else who finds herself protecting a jedi master during order 66 (and later falling in love with her)

#my art #my ocs #oc: fynn kabakoff #mandalorian oc #star wars oc #oc sketch page #mando and jedi

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larkoneironaut · 26 days

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🪐 Everything and more 🐚

My OC Elikai Vidis from my Din Djarin romance fic I’m currently working on. I’m soon done, so keep your eyes open for updates I’ll post! When it’s finished, I will post my fic weekly only on AO3 🖤 (Writing Ch. 30 rn, so ~5 more and I’m done, yay!)

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eurydia · 11 months

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art headturn challenge - star wars edition

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shinseiokami · 3 months

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Don't worry about it just choose one

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crispyjenkins · 3 months

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dha kar'ta "crispy has lost control of their life again" celebration sneak peek

am planning on starting up a wip wednesday sort of thing (maybe next week?), which will definitely be more than star wars related stuff, but i've also just exceeded a thousand hours on skyrim in less than a year and wanted to celebrate(?) (i actually hit a thousand a few days ago, but in true fixation fashion, kept playing instead of posting anything over here lmao) so here's a dha kar'ta wip 'cause jango is fighting me a little bit but new chapter soon!! i promise!!

“As soon as Satine is unseated, the Mandalore System’s full neutrality nullifies, unless Jango chooses to reinstate it.”

“And he’d rather die than do that,” Bosoloc pipes up helpfully.

“Yes, and at that point, Mandalore can choose to pursue rejoining the Republic for the first time since the Kyr’am Turr’e, because New Mandalore never officially seceded to the Senate.”

“Which Jang’alor would also rather die than do.”

Obi-Wan acknowledges Ezovac with a nod. “The politics of sovereign states that exist within sectors technically under control of the Republic are a disaster at best, and almost no one in the Senate is willing to deal with it long enough for a planet to get the flimsiwork through.” Melidaan is a Republic planet now, but the Young didn’t always intend it to be, and Nield couldn’t read, so Obi-Wan had done a lot of that research between battles; and being on the run from Death Watch actually afforded a considerable amount of downtime during his year on Mandalore, and, well. A big part of that Obi-Wan had thought it was all information he’d need to know if Satine asked him to stay, and Obi-Wan still hasn’t quite learned how to let someone love him unless he can be useful to them.

Actually, it’s rather convenient that he had done all this research for Mandalore specifically, if thirteen years too early — perhaps the Force was simply preparing him for this Mandalore, not Satine’s.

Across the mess table, Kal groans loudly and slumps his head down. “Fine, I’ll bite, kih’Alor: what’s any of that got to do with Duchess Demagolka?”

“Theoretically,” Obi-Wan sighs again, pushing a grumbling Dha further into his mind so he can concentrate, “Mandalore does not actually have to declare itself as anything; there are plenty of planets in the outer rim that have sovereignty without officialising it with the Republic.”

“But...?”

“But, thanks to Satine, Mandalore is embroiled in Senate politics nine ways to Corellian Hells, and it’ll be even worse if she makes any headway with the beskar mines while we’re off fighting Vizsla. We simply can’t withdraw from those politics, not when Mandalore’s history is so entwined with the Republic’s, not unless we want to go full isolationist from the rest of the galaxy.” He glances at his other table-/councilmates, and is relieved to see they seem to be keeping up, if looking a bit exhausted by it; Obi-Wan shares the sentiment.

Luckily, the mess is empty now with everyone returning to their increased post-battle duties, or Obi-Wan is sure they’d have had quite a few more complaints about the impromptu government lesson happening in the middle of the tent.

Kal rubs his eyes, shaking himself before turning back to Obi-Wan, his frown as deep as ever, but at least he still seems willing to listen.

“So, we can’t just go after the Senate’s pet Mandalorian without burning those bridges, unless we have proof she’s in league with a terrorist?”

“Precisely. And technically, with Mandalore as a sovereign state, the Senate can’t do anything about the change in power, unless they plan to go to war with every Mandalorian in the galaxy, but proving she made the first move will give us significantly more support for instating Jango instead.”

“I feel like my brains are coming out my ears,” Bosoloc whispers woodenly, staring down at the remains of the protein gruel on her tray.

“You don’t have ears,” Myles reminds her, chin in his hand, and she kicks him under the table.

“What I want to know,” Mij speaks for the first time, easily dodging one of Myles’ flailing arms, “is how you even know about the Kyr’am Turr’e, Obi-Wan.”

Bosoloc turns away from tormenting Myles to add, “Yes, I was going to ask about that, because I have no idea what the Death Days are.”

#dhakarta #jangobi #crispy writes #wip wednesday #sneak peek #prequel trilogy #darksaber au #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #mij gilamar #true mandalorian ocs #mando'ade #more obi knowing things he shouldn't because dha forgets what he should and shouldn't probably know about #mandalorian obi wan #well sort of and also in the near future but he's the only one denying it at this point #JEDI CULTURE RESPECTED

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rskacreates · 3 months

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Commissions I’ve finished up recently! It was a pleasure working with each one of them! Commissions are still open if youre interested =} Pricing and info are pinned on my blog =}

#star wars #digital art #digital artist #star wars fanart #digital illustration #artists on tumblr #fanart #the mandalorian #original character #clone trooper oc #jedi oc #star wars oc #commissions open #commissions #illustration commission #commission art #commission sheet

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starwarsocc · 2 months

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The Star Wars Original Character Collective - accepting new members!

Want to join a Discord server filled with other Star Wars OC creators? Our safe and welcoming community features resources to help you refine and curate your characters, as well as spaces for us to get to know one another, roleplay and enable each other's creativity. Get to know some new original characters and introduce your own!

Click here to fill out our google form and we'll be in touch!

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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 1 year

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Star Crossed; Star-Collide: chapter I

Summary: As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

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The Nevarro desert sprawls out before you, a vast canvas of parched earth that seems to stretch beyond the horizon. Endless dunes of golden sand undulate like a sea frozen in time, while jagged rocks jut out like the teeth of some great beast, scattered haphazardly across the landscape.

The winds whisper a mournful song, carrying with them the sense of utter isolation and a haunting desolation. There is no life in this forsaken place, only the vast emptiness of the shifting sands and a never-ending solitude that engulfs everything in its path.

The star above glows with fervor, its radiance spilling over the land, igniting a heat that suffuses every grain of sand. The air trembles with the sun's intensity, the weight of its brilliance pressing down upon the desert like a hammer.

As if locked in a dance with the arid earth, the sun paints the world in shades of gold and ochre, conjuring an austere beauty in the midst of its scorching assault.

You traverse the vastness of the desert, silence reigning supreme, broken only by the sound of sand crunching beneath your feet. The untamed essence of this barren land engulfs you, but you remain unrelenting, unwavering in your quest

The ivory of your Jedi robes glows against the ashen sand, stark and luminous against the muted desert backdrop. The black of your belt and boots adds depth to your monochrome attire, and your cloak, rippling behind you like a shadow, lends an air of mystery to your austere appearance.

Looking every bit of Obi-Wan’s apprentice, A hushed voice travels with the wind, caressing your ears. You recognize it instantly, the familiar timbre of your mentor Obi-Wan.

Gliding alongside you is Beeb, your trusty astromech droid, a blur of orange and white against the beige sand. Its head, round and dome-shaped, swivels with a keen and curious eye, scanning the endless surroundings.

The stillness of the desert is interrupted only by the gentle hum of Beeb's servos, harmonizing with the soft whisper of the wind.

You watch over him with a protective gaze, your heart filling with a maternal sense of duty. "Take care, little one," you whisper, your voice carried away by the hot winds.

Beeb zips back to your side, emitting a joyful chirp that resonates with the purity of a bird's song happily. Your lips curl into a crescent moon of joy, a twinkle in your eye as you witness Beeb's playful antics.

Beeb swivels his dome-shaped head, emitting a series of chirps and whistles that resemble a curious inquiry. ‘Mama, where are we going?’

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, as if carried on a breeze of mirth at Beeb’s innocent query.

Patting his metallic head and rubbing it as in a way to ruffle his hair gently. "There is a child, Beeb. We must rescue him from the Imperial Remnant." Your voice imbued with unshakable resolve.

‘A child! I get a sibling. That means R2D2 won’t tease me for being the youngest.’ Beeb lets out a series of excited chirps, almost child-like in nature. His head spins around in every direction, as if searching for the little one himself.

A beam of happiness spreads across your face at Beeb's enthusiasm, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart. It's been a long time since you've seen anyone so purely happy and carefree.

It reminds you of your own childhood, before the weight of the galaxy was thrust upon your shoulders.

"I know, Beeb. He's quite the special little guy. I can't wait for you to meet him." Your words are punctuated by a gentle laugh.

The little droid chirps with excitement, his movements quick and sprightly. You follow closely, trying to keep up with his energy as he rolls ahead, leading the way.

The endless expanse of desert still stretches out before you, but Beeb's child-like enthusiasm brings a sense of joy to the journey.

Together, you press on through the harsh terrain, Beeb's infectious happiness making each step a little lighter, each gust of sand a little more bearable.

Through the cacophonous streets of Nevarro, Din strides with a solemn gait, the metallic plates of his armor echoing a rhythmic beat that echoes through the throng of people.

The bustling market envelops the city streets, stalls brimming with wares to behold. Each vendor calls out to passersby, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys as hurried feet beat a steady rhythm on the worn stones beneath.

Din threads his way through the thriving market, the polished metal of his armor gleaming in the scorching sun, capturing the attention of every passerby.

Undeterred by the chaos of the busy market and the looks he receives, Din strides forward with a sense of purpose.

His attention remains steadfast on the task at hand, his thoughts consumed by the mission that has brought him back to this bustling city.

Din treads deeper into the maze of Nevarro's streets, slipping between shadows and darting through sunlight, his every step deliberate and steady as he navigates the twisting alleys.

As Din rounds the corner, his gaze falls upon the entrance to the clandestine Imperial facility, nestled amid the bustling Nevarro market. But in his periphery, a lone rubbish bin catches his eye, discarded and forgotten in the dusty shadows of the narrow alleyway.

Gazing into the dusty bin, Din beholds a heartbreaking sight - the remnants of the child's floating pram now shattered and broken beyond repair.

Din's heart sears with fiery pain, his gaze fixated upon the shattered remnants of the child's once safe haven. The pram, once a symbol of hope and protection, now lies destroyed, its pieces scattered amongst the filth and debris.

Regret grips Din like a vice, squeezing his heart with a brutal force as he recalls the moment he surrendered the Child to the Imperial Remnants.

His fists coil and release, a surge of guilt overwhelming him. A sense of failure seizes his heart, a heavy burden he bears as he paces the alley.

His mind whirls, seeking a solution to the wrongs he's allowed to befall the innocent. A plan he must devise, a way to redeem himself and rescue the Child from the hands of the Imperials.

A burden of guilt crushes his heart as he comprehends the peril that the Child faces. He senses the urgency to act, to save the innocent one from harm's way.

Filled with righteous fury and a burning desire for retribution, Din sets off on a path of vengeance.

For the Empire's cruelty to the Child, they will pay a fee. A debt that only he, the Mandalorian, can claim.

Prostrate atop a terrace, far removed from the grasp of the Imperial agents, Din steadies his gaze through the Amban sniper's lens, locked on the looming Imperial stronghold.

A soft touch to his helmet's earpiece and the mechanism within it hums with life, carrying distant conversations to Din's ear.

Static echoes in Din's ears, as he moves the sniper lens, trying the locate the Child, however, as he scans the base, his attention is drawn to a new scene unfolding before him: the thermal image of the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing.

Their voices, distant and distorted, crackle through his comms. He adjusts the frequency, tuning out the static until the conversation between the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing fills his ears like poison.

"I don't care." The Imperial clients travel through Din's comms. "I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it."

The Imperial agent's orders blare through Din's comms, their cold and callous tones cutting through his heart like a blade. "I don't care. I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it." they command as if the life of a child is nothing but a mere trifle to be disposed of at will.

For a while, the voices fade into the hiss of static, the words drowned in a sea of white noise.

With a gentle twist of the knob, Din awaits the return of the conversation, the static hum slowly dissipating, and the sound of voices filling the air once more.

The doctor's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with obedience, "He has explicitly ordered us to bring it back alive."

"Finish your business quickly, as I no longer can guarantee your safety." The Imperial Client's words travel through the air, a warning of imminent danger.

The beskar helmet conceals the furrow on Din's brow, perplexed by the Imperial Client's cryptic words.

No longer guarantee the safety of the doctor? What is the Imperial agent talking about? Who was this threat that shook the resolve of this hidden Imperial base?

It fills Din with an unknown sense of relief as he realizes that the Imperial agents fear something to the point where they longer feel safe hiding here. For if they fear something enough to flee, then perhaps the Child may yet have a chance at survival.

Thoughts race through Din's mind as he surveys the scene, his voice muffled by the helmet that conceals his emotions. "What are they afraid of? Who is this threat?"

"It is I, they fear, Mandalorian."

A tense stillness grips Din's form, as a distinct hum, like a shrill electrical buzz, reverberates through the air behind him.

Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a moment of reckoning grips Din like a vice, and he curses himself for his lack of vigilance. His eyes, once sharp and alert, now narrow with anger and frustration, as he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

With steady hands, Din relinquishes his grip on the rifle, previously trained upon the Imperial stronghold. Silently, with calculated precision, his hand glides downward, towards the leather holster secured to his left thigh, where the blaster rests within its sheath.

With quickness unmatched, Din draws his weapon from its sheath, rolling onto his back in one fluid motion. From this vulnerable position, he trains the weapon on the looming figure standing behind him, ready to defend himself against any threat.

Confronting him is a presence, tall and imposing. The figure is draped in flowing white robes, the starkness of which is accented by a contrasting black belt.

Behind them, a cloak of the deepest black dances in the wind, as if daring anyone to challenge the power of the one who wears it.

The figure holds a weapon that Din has only heard in a hushed tone, spoken in reverential tones and remembered with reverence, for those who wielded it were lost to the purge, gone without a trace.

The once-forgotten weapon, now in the possession of an enigmatic form, is wielded with practiced ease and lethal finesse, each hand brandishing one of the glowing blades.

Din offers gratitude to the stars above, for the knowledge imparted by the Armourer, which he now recalls as a child, the different variations of the lightsabers.

The Mandalorian's gaze fixates on the left hand of the figure, beholding the double-bladed lightsaber glowing in hues of royal purple, while the right-hand holds a dual-phased lightsaber emanating a vivid green radiance.

"A Jetii." Din's lips part, his breath caught in his chest as he beholds the figure before him, a being of power and ancient wisdom.

"A Mandalorian." The words uttered by the figure are infused with a sense of serenity, a voice of balance and control.

The voice of the figure reaches Din's ears, and a sudden realization dawns upon him. This is no mere figure, but a woman of immense power, her words carrying a weight that stirs something deep within him.

A shiver runs down his spine, as he realizes the magnitude of his opponent - a Jetii, armed with weapons of deadly prowess. He knows he stands no chance against such might.

Din's senses flare with a sudden urgency, and his body responds with a lightning-quick roll, narrowly evading the Jetii's sudden lunge. His muscles tense, his reflexes honed from a life of constant danger.

The graceful and deadly strike of her dual lightsabers slices through the air where Din had been just a moment before. The sound of the humming blades echoes off the surrounding structures, a symphony of danger and death.

Din's heart races with adrenaline as he quickly springs to his feet, his own weapons at the ready. He knows he's outmatched, but he refuses to go down without a fight.

Din regains his footing with a graceful sway, his blaster at the ready, aimed at the Jetii. Yet her movements are too swift, her form too lithe, as she sidesteps each shot with poise and ease, the double-bladed lightsaber a blur of purple, effortlessly blocking his every attempt.

Din grunts as he swiftly steps back, creating distance between himself and the woman. With fluid motions, he draws his amban rifle/spear from his back, ready for the woman's next move. As she lunges towards him with her green lightsaber, Din expertly parries her attack.

Din charges forward, his rifle at the ready, but the woman is too quick. She leaps over him, somersaulting in mid-air, and lands behind him. Before he can turn around, she delivers a swift kick to his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Stepping forward, the woman's words are sharp and unforgiving. "You are a Mandalorian, revered warrior. Family is paramount to you, younglings are precious to your kind. I have respect for your way of life, but I must ask, why did you surrender the Child to the Imperials?"

Din tries to stand up but he is still disoriented from the kick. He glares at the woman, anger simmering within him. "That's none of your business," he growls, his hand hovering over his holster.

He doesn't know who she is or how she knows about the Child, but her words hit him hard.

The woman narrows her eyes, her lightsabers still ignited. "It is my business when it concerns the safety of a child. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, even though there are only two left, it is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Din grits his teeth and slowly pushes himself back up, his eyes never leaving the Jetii. "It's complicated," he answers, his voice tense.

The woman tilts her head, her eyes probing. "Complicated," she repeats, a note of skepticism in her voice.

"I am a Mandalorian. Our code of honour includes fulfilling one's obligations and completing jobs. I was obliged by my creed to finish the job." Din tries to reason but knows that even the Mandalorians don't leave children behind.

The woman's stance stiffens, her body a seething cauldron of rage, emanating a fiery aura. "Your creed should also include protecting the innocent, especially the young. You know as well as I do that the Imperials won't treat that child kindly. You had a chance to make a difference, to save a life, and you chose to ignore it."

Din's head droops in shame, the weight of the woman's words crushing him. He has fallen short of his Mandalorian code, failing to protect the youngling. "I... I know. I was wrong," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to make it right. I have to get him back."

The woman's lightsabers fall silent, their deadly hum fading as she deactivates them. Din's gaze follows as she gracefully returns the weapons to her belt, then lowers the hood that had obscured her face.

And wow.

Din's heart quickens its pace as the woman lowers her hood, revealing her face at last. But it is not just her physical beauty that holds him captive. In her eyes, there burns a fierce intensity, a wisdom that he has never before encountered. 4

Her gaze pierces through him like a blaster bolt, and he feels a strange stirring within him, a stirring of awe and admiration.

It feels like she is seeing straight into the depths of his soul. A captivating aura emanates from her, enveloping Din in a trance-like state.

At this moment, all of his thoughts, concerns, and fears seem to vanish, leaving him lost in the hypnotic gaze of this enigmatic woman.

Din's mind goes blank as he gazes upon her, forgetting the conflict that had brought them face to face. The way the light dances around her, the gentle slope of her features, the spark in her gaze - all of it blends together to create a breathtaking portrait that he cannot help but be captivated by.

Her voice echoes in Din's mind, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade. He feels the weight of her gaze upon him, and he struggles to maintain his composure. Her presence is like a force of nature, commanding his attention with ease.

As she speaks, he finds himself lost in the rhythm of her words, the cadence of her voice like a soothing melody. He tries to focus on what she is saying, but his mind is distracted by the beauty of her being. The way she speaks, the way she stands it's as if he's in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

'You're not a boy anymore,' he reminds himself, 'you're a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian.' The words echo in his mind, a mantra to steel himself.

He musters all his inner strength, fighting against the temptation to be entranced by her allure. He forces his mind back to the present, determined to cast aside the alluring distractions and attend to the matter at hand.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make it right," Din declares, his voice filled with a deep-seated conviction.

The woman nods a sense of understanding in her eyes. "I believe you," she says softly. "But words are meaningless without action. If you truly want to make it right, then you must find the Child and bring him back to his own kind, where he will be safe and learn more about himself."

He nods, determination setting in. "I won't let him be hurt."

The woman regards Din for a moment, before extending her hand out to help him up. "Good," she says, motioning to the Imperial Base with her head. "Because we have work to do."

Din feels a wave of gratitude washes over him at the woman's words. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing by handing the child over to the Imperials, but now he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

Accepting the woman's outstretched hand, Din rises to his feet, his heart still racing from the intensity of the fight. He looks at her with deep appreciation and nods in gratitude. The woman takes a step back, giving him space to retrieve his weapons from the ground.

As Din's hands reach for his rifle on the ground, a flicker of movement catches his attention from the corner of his eye, and his muscles tense as he recognizes the source.

Din's gaze follows as an astromech droid BB-8 unit rolls out from its spot, and over to the woman. Her smile shines like a sunbeam, casting a warm glow over everything around her. She kneels in front of the droid and tenderly pats its spherical head, a gesture that seems to radiate with pure kindness.

Din's eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features as he observes the woman's interaction with the astromech droid. His gut churns with a deep-seated distrust of the machines, borne from past traumas and scars.

The weight shifts on his feet, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to strike if the droid were to make any sudden moves.

The woman senses Din's unease and rises to her feet, turning her gaze toward him. "Don't worry, Beeb has been with me since I was a child. He is on our side." she says reassuringly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

Din remains skeptical, but the woman's words give him pause. He relaxes slightly but keeps a watchful eye on the droid. "I've had my fair share of run-ins with droids. Can't say I trust them much," he admits gruffly.

The woman nods in understanding. "I understand, but please know that I built him myself and imbued him with the same spirit of loyalty and honor that I strive to embody. He has been with my brother and me through the toughest of battles. You have nothing to fear from him, Mandalorian."

Din considers her words for a moment, then gives a curt nod. "I'll take your word for it, but if that thing tries anything funny, he's getting a blaster bolt to the head."

The woman chuckles. "I wouldn't expect any less from a Mandalorian. But I assure you, Beeb is on our side."

As if sensing his hesitation, Beeb lets out a series of friendly beeps and chirps, rolling closer to Din and nuzzling against his leg. Din glances down at the droid, surprised by the show of affection.

The woman smiles knowingly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "See? He's harmless."

Din grudgingly nods, still unsure of the droid's intentions. But he knows that he can trust the woman and by extension, Beeb. For now, at least.

Approaching him with confidence, the woman strides towards Din, her height just slightly shorter than his own. As she draws nearer, she speaks her name with a voice as soothing as a gentle stream and extends her hand for him to take, a gesture of respect and greeting.

Din takes a moment to compose himself before taking her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm as they shake hands. He quickly withdraws his hand and takes a step back, surprised at his own reaction.

The woman raises an eyebrow, noticing his sudden shift in demeanor. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

Din shakes his head, trying to push aside the strange sensation that lingers in his hand. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just that...I don't usually shake hands with strangers."

The woman chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I understand. But I hope we can become more than strangers, Mandalorian."

"Mando. Call me Mando." Din says finally, the word rolling off his tongue with a certain weight.

He can sense the woman's surprise at his response, but he remains firm. He has learned to keep his true name hidden, even from those he trusts.

The woman's gaze locks onto Din's, and as she speaks his name, it rolls off her tongue like a sweet melody, a word to be savored and cherished. "Mando," she murmurs, her voice carrying the weight of reverence and admiration.

A stirring sensation dances in Din's chest as the woman utters his name once more. He's never heard it spoken with such curiosity and esteem, and the sound of it from her lips sends shivers down his spine.

"Shall we go, Mando?" With a graceful motion of her hand, the woman gestures toward the direction they should take.

Din nods in understanding, feeling drawn to her enigmatic presence. "Lead the way," he says, a subtle hint of admiration in his voice.

With steadfast purpose, the pair sets out on their journey, each step resolute and unyielding. Their goal is clear, a daunting challenge ahead, as Beeb follows along faithfully. Their mission: to rescue the Child, to keep the Imperial Agents at bay, and to ensure the youngling's safety at all costs.

Tag list: @babygirlrex0504 @alienated-green-tea @fatima-marisa @dindjarindude @sharin1806 @ruthyalva96 @avengersfan25

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

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