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themilky-way · 4 years

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like water {din djarin}

gif credit: no-droids

pairing: the mandalorian/din djarin x fem!reader

summary: when the one person he cares about is threatened, he lets himself indulge in the aftermath of defending them.

warnings: some violence in the beginning, choking (not in the fun way), depictions of scratches, punches, and minor abrasions; the reader is hurt basically. oh and mando’s gun bc yeah❤️umm that’s it i think? nothing too horrible tho but if this thing triggers you, please don’t read !!

author’s note: not to be conceited or anything (is that even the right word for it lol?) but im super proud of how this turned out! requests are open btw for anyone who wishes to submit anything (if unsure, just ask which fandoms)!

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cyar’ika-> darling, sweetheart

nothing in that exact moment had made much sense. one minute the most precious thing to ever exist to him was snatched away, and the next his hands were gripping the treasure beneath his holster. his knuckles were lily-white at this point, holding the gun as hard as his body would allow him to without crushing underneath him, and the urge to cock it made him visibly shake. he’d been given a command, and out of all the merciless men in the filthy galaxy, he needed to follow it, so his weapon of preference stayed where it needed to.

the meager specks of emotion that still lived within him betrayed his prominent composure, the view in front of him blocked by the sudden glaze of his eyes. the small drops of saltwater puddled together in his now hazy orbs, holding on until it was nearly impossible to stay put and then rivered down his cheeks. the cause? well, you.

you were filling up the mandalorian’s line of vision, his eyes darting between you and the bounty that had gone wrong. an alienated hand was wrapped around your innocent throat, your feeble hands wrapped around its wrist in a dumb attempt to break free. the ground you were roaming on before appeared to be never ending, and in the same way, the darkened sky absorbed you whole. vertigo was now in full effect; any quick movement caused you to shut your eyes tightly and hope to the maker you’d get through it. it took a few seconds for you to regain your balance, a sharp pain pinging around your neck forcing you to find it. you half expected to be back on the mud again, to have the man you had spent the past year flying around with pulling you to safety. instead, you found din frozen in place, an instinctive action rooted in the steel handle of his pistol. he wasn’t moving, too scared to blink as if you’d disappear if he did.

perhaps you were; someone like you seemed too good to be true. in all actuality, it may be that you were a fever dream, a celestial that had come down from the sanctity of your home to finally rescue him from his burdens. amidst his frantic glances, he reminisced every second he’d spent with you since your unforeseen arrival, and that somehow worked for him. the gears in his brain started to turn again, and with every ounce of his strength, he pounced on the quarry and did what he should’ve done the instant you were taken from him. anger took over his worry, the effects illustrating themselves in a collage of mitted fists and blood. the pistol residing on din’s waist was useless compared to his hits; the softened position of his jawbone was locked firmly as a result of his gritted teeth and he was going to need more than your delicate hand on his shoulders to ground his senses.

the mandalorian never expected to succumb to anyone, nor to feel remotely joyful upon hearing someone’s laugh. the idea of kindling a relationship was ludicrous, utterly impossible if only he weren’t bound to the chains of his creed. oftentimes, he wondered if someone would one day traverse his path and make him question every moral he’d been taught. din had dismissed the thought, as any other member of his intricate society would have, but the wondrous insight depicting a different lifestyle always lingered faintly in his mind.

today, the very same visions behind his recurrent insomnia framed themselves in a frail art piece. din’s focus laid directly ahead, the fingers navigating the center controls as tight as they’d been on his gun. his eyes deserved to rest, perhaps take in the splashes of color nature was offering him, but he landed them on the same lovely sculpture adorning his cockpit.

you were seated in the chair adjacent from the pilot’s, with your knees closely tucked to your chest. one large scrape designed itself on your leg-a dull reminder of the ordeal you were involved in hours earlier-with flakes of arid blood protecting the wound. bouncing off the skin of your throat were shades of red and purple, now properly mixing into a deeper complexion that’d require you to hide it for some time. besides the scattered nicks living on your face, and the other couple dozen on your arms and legs, the outcome wasn’t as terrible as the one your attacker received. it was a rule of thumb to not mess with a mandalorian, much less with the pretty little lady clutching his arm as if it were second nature. the foolest of fools wouldn’t even have done such a foul thing, and this particular creature came to know the punishment for harming what wasn’t rightfully his.

it truly amazed him; the way you seemed to be so unphased by a traumatic circumstance. the woman beside him-the same one who couldn’t sleep unless a window was open-had endured pain, and the marks on her skin proved themselves in jagged indications of it. through the darkened screen of his visor, din could make out your hands neatly intertwined around your folded knees, your chin simultaneously resting on top. you’d been as observant as you always were, hardly missing his actions as he navigated his newfound family to a safe stop. sure, you were unaware of the loving term he considered of you and the baby, but it didn’t hurt to keep it a secret, right?

“hey.” it came out more hoarse than he intended it to, but the emotion behind it flowed out nonetheless. “you okay?”

not really. i don’t feel good. it was easy to say exactly that, to speak the truth, but it was even easier to lie. for the sake of his own worry, at most. your eyes were still glued to his armor, taking in the rough outline of where you imagined his skin would be underneath, or moreso the abstract idea of feeling it with your hands. reflections of your yearning came and went like the mandalorian’s missions, almost impulsively at times, and the curious, teasing tilts his helmet would bid you only encouraged that craving. much like now; the black “T” of his expressionless face leaned to the side, asking you to earnestly respond. “mm, yeah. ‘m kinda tired, though,” you mumbled.

you threw him a lie and he caught it. “don’t lie to me.” din swiveled his chair to accordingly match the peripheral of yours, his elbows coming to rest on top of his beskar-clad legs. “can you look at me?” he inquired softly. then, his intent fell on the slow shift of your head and how it turned to face him, your cheek settling on your unscathed knee. a breath fell from his lips at the doting admiration swimming in your stare. “there she is,” he confirmed with an upward curl of his lips. “is there anything i can do?” it was sincere; a genuine concern to accompany his question. you hummed in response, fearful to accidentally voice the confessions you hid from him. you blinked once, twice, until his question became a plea. “please, cyar’ika.”

reasonably, you were too busy exploring the shape of his helmet, permitting your creative imagination to paint images of the man next to you; so when your ears perceived his sudden name of endearment, there was nothing amongst the stars that you could’ve possibly denied him from. “you’ve never called me that before,” you smiled, all big and brilliant.

“i’ve wanted to,” the man replied. what resembled ages of pent up stress released with a few curated words. his muscles relaxed, something he never believed to be attainable given his vigorous profession. “god, i’ve wanted to.”

he followed it with a humble laugh. a sound so familiar and warm, so genuine that it empowered your grin to spread higher. “by all means, keep saying it.” now it was your turn to nervously giggle, and him who embraced the noise with everything he could. a mutual infatuation, so wonderfully obvious, yet it was refused acknowledgment. “i think there is something you can do, though.” silence advised you to continue, “can i sleep with you tonight?”

the misguided pieces of your minds’, maybe even your souls’, reattached themselves that very same night. as the both of you slept, hands, calloused and smooth, intimately merged against the cushions of the warrior’s bed. tender kisses planted to your forehead left electricity in their wake, and the dark ambiance of his dwelling favored the entanglement of your tired bodies.

“i wish i could see you, din,” you sighed. the manner in which it was expressed, full of sleep and everything akin, urged him to lift your weightless wrist to his lips.

“you’ll get to one day, cyar’ika. for now just let me hold you, yeah?”

#not me writing fanfiction better than ap literature essays #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal #my writing!

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roidespd-blog · 5 years

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Chapter Six : L AS IN LESBIAN

THE STORY OF SAPPHO OF LESBOS

Sappho (630–570 BC) was a Greek poetess from the island of Lesbos, located in the northeastern Aegan Sea. Sappho (or as some would call her “The Tenth Muse” or “The Poetess”) was known for her lyric poetry, usually written to be sung while accompanied by a lyre. Over the centuries, most of Sappho’s poetry was lost, except for one complete poem :

ODE TO APHRODITE Iridescent-throned Aphrodite, deathless Child of Zeus, wile-weaver, I now implore you, Don’t — I beg you, Lady — with pains and torments Crush down my spirit,

But before if ever you’ve heard my pleadings Then return, as once when you left your father’s Golden house; you yoked to your shining car your Wing-whirring sparrows

Skimming down the paths of the sky’s bright ether On they brought you over the earth’s black bosom, Swiftly — then you stood with a sudden brilliance, Goddess, before me;

Deathless face alight with your smile, you asked me What I suffered, who was my cause of anguish, What would ease the pain of my frantic mind, and Why had I called you

To my side: “And whom should Persuasion summon Here, to soothe the sting of your passion this time? Who is now abusing you, Sappho? Who is Treating you cruelly?

Now she runs away, but she’ll soon pursue you; Gifts she now rejects — soon enough she’ll give them; Now she doesn’t love you, but soon her heart will Burn, though unwilling.

Come to me once more, and abate my torment; Take the bitter care from my mind, and give me All I long for; Lady, in all my battles Fight as my comrade.

Though not much is known of Sappho’s life, her work speaks of a great admiration and fascination for the beauty of women. Fragmented biography written on papyrus states that Sappho was accused by some of being “irregular in her ways and a woman-lover” but it does not prove anything at all. It cannot be denied that the remaining 650 lines from her body of work portray homoerotic feelings. The conclusion of this is nobody knows Sappho’s life. That didn’t stop them from originated the word Lesbian from her place of origin.

ETY-HOMO-LOGY

The term Lesbianism, to describe erotic relations between women, had been documented as early as 1870. By 1890, the term Lesbian was used in a medical dictionary. Synonyms from the early 20th century include invert (which seems to be the equivalent of our “butch” term), homosexual and… sapphist.

Interestingly, far less was written by medical professionals about lesbianism as it was viewed as a lesser problem than male homosexuality. In some cases, it was not acknowledged to exist at all. We could talk about the works of sexologists Ebing (Germany) and Ellis (UK) but they believed a woman’s attraction to another woman could be either medically reversed or vanish after the woman had experiences marriage and a “practical life”. They also indicated that homosexual men has behaviors that should not be considered a criminal vice. So.. Yeah ? Misogyny wins ?

LESBIANISM AS AN IDENTITY

As a cis gay man with no rights to give a personal opinion to what is and isn’t considered lesbianism, please acknowledge I’m only reporting previous theories and opinions that were stated by more or less qualified people than me.

It seems that the act of sexual relationships between two women is still up for debate as to be defined as lesbianism. According to feminist writer Naomi McCormick, Lesbianism was mostly constructed by men, whose primary indicator of lesbian sexual orientation is sexual experience with other women. As I believe sexuality is a spectrum and not a series of boxes to check, I would tend to agree with that statement. But I will not give more of an opinion on the subject. She also stated that emotional, mental and ideological connections between women are as important or more so than the genital. As the definition of lesbianism was clearly unfocused depending on who you were talking to, and the rise of feminism in the second part of the 20th century, women felt safer claiming to be more sexually adventurous, allowing them to be feel more accepted by the male gaze. In the 1980s, a significant movement rejected the sexualization of lesbianism which became part of a heated controversy called the feminist sex wars. The movement is built to counter the idea that women is long-term relationships with other women were having less sexual contact that heterosexual or homosexual male couples, calling this “Lesbian Bed Death”.

The idea is that a woman that does not identify her sexual feelings toward persons of her sex as lesbianism and does not engage if long-term emotional attachment will keep on being sexually viable in the eyes of society. Using the word “lesbianism” as a death sentence on your sex life, putting you right in the category of asexual beings. Misogyny wins again ?

In direct consequence with the male gaze and the construction of the word lesbianism by male minds, homosexual women from western culture often adopted lesbianism as an identity itself. As most people are taught that heterosexuality is an innate quality in all people, women who realize her romantic and sexual attraction to other women go through an ‘existential crisis’. The identity of a lesbian, challenging what society had offered in stereotypes about homosexuals and learning to function within a homosexual subculture. From that perspective came the stereotypes that were naturally reused in the media as to make the whole thing comprehensible to heterosexuals with no capacity for nuances.

STERE-HO-TYPES

First, let’s talk about what other dumb people can think about a lesbian : 1. Lesbians just haven’t been with the right guy yet — There is no right guy. 2. Men molested them as children and turned them into lesbians — sexual identity cannot be changed to any events whatsoever. And why do you have to associate that to tragedy ? 3. In every lesbian couple, one has to be the man — Men are useless most of the time. You don’t need your idea of a man. 4. Lesbian hate men — I don’t think they do. But do men hate lesbians ? The idea of, no. Them ? Probably a very emasculating thought. 5. It’s not real sex if there’s no penis — you clearly never had good oral sex in your life. 6. All lesbians use strap-ons/No lesbians use strap-ons — there are contradictory reports. Do that I say the fuck do you care ? It’s not your concern!

We also have the two main categories of lesbians that are absolutely and definitely real and nothing else because otherwise, how are we gonna understand those people ?

If you are a lesbian (and we highly doubt that cause you haven’t met the right guy yet), you are a butch or a femme. As everything had to be either masculine or feminine in gender, sex or identity studies, even lesbians adopted that way of thinking in the last century. A US study from the 90s showed that “95% of lesbians are familiar with butch/femme code and can rate themselves or others in terms of those codes”. Those two clichés of what a lesbian should be also created debates inside the community, subculture and the feminist movement. For some, the sexual and romantic association of butch and femme was a replication of heterosexual relations while other commentators argue that, while it resonates with heterosexual patterns of relations, butch-femme simultaneously challenges it. A lot of theoretical talk for something people don’t seem to totally understand.

NO BI, BI, BI

Lesbians in western cultures generally create an identity that parallels those built on ethnicity : they have a shared history and subculture (as gay man do but more focused), a similar experience with discrimination (homophobic AND misogynistic) which has caused many of them to reject heterosexual principles. It created a point of contention with the ideas of a bisexual woman and a lesbian who once had sexual relationships with men. Lesbians who have never had sex with men may be referred to as “gold star lesbians” while those who have may face ridicule and rejection from others. Bisexual women also face, more so than in heterosexual relationships, identity challenges with regard to defining what it means to be interested in women. I had a conversation the other day with someone who happens to be a gay woman about what she was looking for in a girl. I scanned for people I might know and talked about a friend of mine, single as well. It seemed that the bisexuality of my friend was a point of no return, as she did not want to engage with someone “who didn’t know what she wanted”. As I’m going to cover the B in LGBT in another article real soon, I won’t get to far in that particular area today. Though I need to insist right now (and yes, this is a fact AND an opinion) : Bisexuality is not a half-way stop to homosexuality. There is not transition. Saying you’re bisexual while you are actually gay is something a 15 year-old confused teenager would say out of fear of being rejected. A grown-ass woman does not have that fear. She knows exactly who she is just as you do. B as in Bisexual… coming soon.

LESBIAN REPRESENTATION

If I say Lesbian, you say Ellen ! Lesbian! Ellen ! Lesbian ! Ellen ! As I’m also covering Ellen in the future, I won’t get too much into that right now. Yes, Ellen Degeneres is probably the most famous (and possibly richest) lesbian in the world. And though she broke barriers, she was not the first.

Selma Lagerlöf, first woman to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Jane Adams, first woman to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Julia Morgan, first woman admitted to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. Lili Elbe, first identified recipient of gender confirmation surgery (Yes, transgender woman can also be lesbians as sexuality and gender are two different things). Eleanor Roosevelt, first lady of the United States (still disputed by many though). Marguerite Yourcenar, first woman elected to the Académie Française. Interesting to notice that while I was researching those names, many of them (Joséphine Baker, Frida Kahlo) were bisexual women, showing that even now, bisexuality is not accepted as face value and just another name of lesbianism for women.

In literature, The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith (1951) comes to mind, depicting the first-ever “happy ending” for a lesbian couple. The release of the book was so scandalous at the time the author had to use a pseudonym. Following the Stonewall Riots, lesbian themes multiplied in more diverse and complex themes, though mostly through essays on feminism and sexuality. Important lesbian writers to read are Rita Mae Brown and Audre Lorde, to name a few.

In cinema, openly lesbian content in mainstream films began appearing during the 1990s, exploring sympathetic lesbian characters. By 2000, some films portrayed characters beyond issues of sexual orientation, reflecting a wider need to see lesbianism as more than sexual desire. Unfortunately, most mainstream films with lesbian protagonists are directed by heterosexual male directors. 2001’s Mulholland Drive put two women in a grotesque exposure of their sexual desires. 2013’s Palme d’Or winner Blue is the Warmest Color (La Vie d’Adèle Partie 1&2) gives us the most explosively graphic lesbian sex scenes in recent memory, though it was received by some lesbian communities as exploitative and offensive. Summer of Love (2004) is a great indie movie with delicate use of lesbian themes and characters but it was directed by Pawel Pawlikowski.

In television, lesbians were largely ignored for quite a while. Not until 1962 were there mentioned in reports concerning female homosexuality. On scripted shows, the word “lesbian” was never heard of, instead using codes like “villain” or “neurotic”. In the 80s, L.A. Law included a lesbian relationship in one of their storylines, causing outrage. Sci-Fi shows of the 90s implied more than stated that characters were gay. It really only changed with Ellen’s 1997 Puppy Episode (more on that later, I told you). After that milestone, Soap operas included a couple of lesbians here and there, cable shows tried it too. The L Word was created by Showtime as a response to the network’s own Queer as Folk. Though not a great show in terms of writing and pacing, it remains an important landmark in lesbian history and is getting rebooting in the next few months.

I do believe the bigger, brighter and thoughtful representation of a lesbian romance was in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But even then, the network did not want the two lesbian characters to kiss on screen (they had to wait over a year after the met for depicting the smallest kiss in the face of grief). In our golden age of television, we have the likes of Orange is the New Black, The Fosters, characters on Grey’s Anatomy, American Horror Story, Orphan Black. Not enough, but a start.

Overall, the lack of representation in the media justified the accumulation of basic lesbian clichés put together by society and the community itself.

IN CONCLUSION

Is lesbianism an identity ? If not, were lesbians force to assume this as their primary identity as a way to get ground and recognition ? That L is important. They have it rough. But not as ruff as Black Lesbians.

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