#bo katan has a lot of work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?�� he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @tiredbuthappy @mandowhatnow @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @eddiemunscns @deliriousfangirl61 @fandomandotherthings @myswficlist @aaetherr69 @swimmjacket @ins0mniac-whack @rintheemolion @notsosecretspy @ghostyoongs @freightcarcap @untitledarea @whitemanshoe19 @tmiranda94 @fleetsonfire @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @star017 @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride

#pedro pascal #Din djarin #Din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes

1K notes · View notes

gone-to-fight-the-fairies · 1 year

Text

Noetic

Summary: Din relies on the teachings of his Jedi companion to wield the Darksaber.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Jedi!reader

Word Count: 700

Noetic: Adj. Meaning of or associated with or requiring the use of the mind.

“You’re fighting the Darksaber,”

“It’s fighting me,” Din grunts, the blade tipping down, slicing a crescent shape into the grass below. As much as Din attempts to overrule it, the saber triumphs over him. And his anger only makes the gravitation heavier.

“It didn’t survive over a thousand years to be outmatched by one Mandalorian. Even by one as muscular as you.”

Din swears, laden with his own emotions. Typically any flirtatious comment throws him, but he’s too frazzled to acknowledge it. He retracts the blade and throws his arms up. You half expect him to chuck the saber into the nearby lake. Instead, he tosses it at the ground.

“The creator of the Darksaber was both Mandalorian and Jedi,” you bend down to retrieve the handle, brushing off the stray pieces of grass. “what does that tell you?”

“That I’m grateful you’re only a Jedi.” Din tries to joke, but his tone is coarse, and his anger slips through the modulator. You travel to him, taking a gloved hand in yours. Your fingers delicately wrap his own around the handle.

“You’ve mastered the ways of Mandalore. Now, you have to think like a Jedi.”

“What does that intel?”

You let his hand drop, planting yourself on the plush grass and crossing your legs. “Sit.”

Din squats and stares at you expectantly through the sharp line of his visor. He gestures with his hands, waiting.

“Ass on the ground.”

A sigh escapes the modulator as he obeys your request.

“What do you feel?”

“Grass.”

This was going to be a long day.

“Look within.”

Another sigh. “Frustrated.”

You roll your hand, urging him to continue.

“Frustrated that I can’t get this blasted thing to work.”

“Close your eyes.”

Din simply stares at you. He hasn’t survived this long by shutting his eyes to the world around him.

“Do it.”

Din wonders what the force entails for you to see past his mask. But he recalls it’s not through the physical objects themselves but through himself that you sense his reluctance. You possess an inward gaze into the world around you, a clarity towards the people and, in this case, objects. Maybe, just maybe, Din needed some of that lucidity too.

“Hold the handle,” you start. Din rubs a thumb over it. “Think of the blade’s intentions. After a thousand years, what is it seeking?”

“It’s just a blade.” Din deadpans. He peeks and is met with your enraged glare. Even for a Jedi, you’re losing patience with him. And it scares him. “It wants the possessor to fight in the name of Mandalore.”

“Go on.”

“It’s traded hands,” Din thinks of Bo-Katan and Moff Gideon. “many times. It wants to be in the right hands. Maybe I’m not those hands.”

“Maybe it needs to feel your intentions like I can feel you peeking.”

Din squeezes his eyes shut. He wouldn’t let anyone else cripple him in such a way. But here, with you, Din complies. “I want to serve my creed, to build Mandalore up again,” he thinks of you and Grogu. “But mostly, I need to protect my clan.”

Din can’t see your smile, so you let it blossom on your lips.

“Now, instead of focusing on your emotions,” he hears you shuffle but dares not to open his eyes, afraid to lose his train of thought. “think of your intentions and raise the blade.”

Din gazes up at you with partial-focused eyes. He feels… calm. Introspect isn’t something Mandalorians are taught, nor is peace. Even at his age, he still has a lot to learn. He imagines that this is how you always feel whenever you meditate. Tranquil and grounded. Perhaps it’s because he’s thinking of you.

You wait as Din shuffles to his feet. He grips the handle in his hand and extracts the blade in a swift motion. You match his movement, and your light-colored saber contrasts the Darksaber.

“Imagine that you’re defending Mandalore. Defending Grogu. Defending me. Manifest it.” And when Din pictures it, you strike.

#Din Djarin x reader #Din Djarin Fanfiction #Din Djarin Fic #Din Djarin Fanfic #Aira Writes #Din Djarin x you #Din Djarin x Jedi!reader #Din Djarin #Star Wars Fanfiction #The Mandalorian Fanfiction

686 notes · View notes

antianakin · 5 months

Text

An AU where Obi-Wan and Satine are somehow forced into an arranged marriage post-Civil War, like Satine can't become Duchess if she's not married because she's a woman or she's too young, or maybe she decides to join the Republic post-Civil War in order to give herself legitimacy as a leader and gain herself enough followers to effectively force a peace without causing another civil war, but the Republic is reluctant to let them in and Satine discovers a workaround where if she marries a Republic citizen or something as a world leader she can use that to gain entry into the Republic. She asks Obi-Wan to help her out and he leaves the Order for her because she has literally no other options available and this will hopefully bring peace to Mandalore and allow Satine the chance to change things for the better, even though it means he loses EVERYTHING and has to give up who he is, his family, his friends, his home, etc.

And the marriage goes terribly because Satine and Obi-Wan's "tension" or whatever was basically just a trauma bond combined with teenage hormones and while he respects her ambitions, she never truly understands what he's given up for her and she doesn't entirely respect the Jedi culture sometimes and so Obi-Wan is absolutely miserable among the Mandalorians. None of them accept him, hardly any of them even LIKE him, he doesn't have any real power politically because Satine is too worried about people thinking she's letting an outsider rule through her and wanting to establish herself as a competent leader on her own, and Mandalorian culture is just so vastly different from the Jedi. There's a lot he DOES like about it, obviously, every culture has its own beauty to it, but it's not HIS culture and there's a lot about it that goes vastly against what the Jedi believe in and teach that makes it really uncomfortable for him sometimes. Satine and Obi-Wan just end up in screaming arguments all the time and can barely stand each other just a few years into the marriage, but they can't get a divorce because Satine doesn't want to admit to that kind of weakness or mistake or seem like someone who just made a political marriage for her own agenda (even though that's effectively exactly what she did, as Obi-Wan points out).

There's other tensions that come up, as well, like the problem of heirs. Obi-Wan and Satine DO try, but it never seems to actually work, and Satine's worry that she'll have made all of these changes to make Mandalore peaceful only for it to fall into civil war again upon her death if she doesn't have an heir means that she keeps trying to insist on more attempts and getting upset with Obi-Wan when it inevitably doesn't work. They end up in separate bedrooms because of this, despite the gossip this inevitably creates about their relationship fracturing. Eventually, Bo-Katan shows up with the baby she had but refuses to keep and asks Satine to raise in her place, and Satine agrees so long as Bo-Katan allows Satine to name the baby her heir. Bo-Katan agrees, and Satine stops trying to create an heir of her own in favor of raising Korkie as her heir.

Obi-Wan also keeps trying to find work-arounds to Satine's reluctance to let him help her politically. He accepts that she doesn't want him in the room when she's holding council and he can't be ON the council, but even when he suggests something as simple as just discussing things together in the privacy of their own bedroom so he can try to help carry the burden with her, but Satine refuses to do even that much just in case people start suspecting that she's taking advice from him and assume he is ruling through her. Obi-Wan ends up entirely cut off from all political work and decisions, Satine never tells him anything about what's going on at all and never wants his advice on how to lead Mandalore. She barely even allows him near Korkie to make sure no one ever questions Korkie's right to succeed her or his ability to lead Mandalore.

Obi-Wan attempts to stay in contact with some of the Jedi, but they're often busy and can't respond very quickly, if they respond at all, so those relationships start to fade. Only Qui-Gon keeps up any kind of regular communication and even that is still relatively sporadic depending on how his missions go. He tries to cling to the Jedi teachings he remembers as best he can rather than assimilating into Mandalorian culture, something that further alienates him from the Mandalorian people. Satine had given him formal clothing to wear and had told him that, as her spouse, he had to present himself a certain way, which meant he could not continue to wear Jedi or Jedi-style clothing. But he continues to meditate as best he can, at least once a day, reciting the meditation mantra he was taught as a child to ensure he never forgets it: there is no emotion, there is peace.

Satine hates that he seems generally uninterested in most Mandalorian customs, even though he knows them and has studied them as best he can. She sees his continued interest in practicing Jedi culture as a rejection of Mandalorian culture and doesn't really understand Obi-Wan when he says that they often feel diametrically opposed. He cannot do both, and she's asked him to give up enough of his Jedi heritage as it is, it feels cruel to ask him to give up what little is left to him for her own comfort. Satine points out that he wasn't BORN a Jedi, so it shouldn't really matter to let go of it. Obi-Wan doesn't speak to her for weeks after that, and while she does apologize for having hurt him, she still doesn't entirely understand, and Obi-Wan isn't interested in explaining anymore, something that just makes her angry all over again and the two of them have to agree to simply never discuss the topic again.

Obviously all of this creates irreparable damage to their relationship. Satine's youth when she took over Mandalore caused her to focus exclusively on what she believed needed to be done to solidify her position so she could do waht was best for her people, regardless of what that meant for Obi-Wan. She doesn't INTEND to hurt him and abandon him, but she married him for political reasons even if she had feelings for him. Obi-Wan's desire to replace the purpose he'd had as a Jedi with some kind of purpose on Mandalore causes him to push Satine to give things in their relationship that she's unwilling to give, and her refusal to meet him halfway and his alienation from her life creates resentment in him. Even as they grow older and Satine could theoretically try to rectify some of these mistakes and allow him to help her more politically, there is a rift between them that neither one knows how to cross. So they don't; Satine continues to put all of her focus on politics and Obi-Wan keeps his distance. They just continue to grow further and further apart without any way to free themselves from the black hole that is their marriage.

The one time they manage to get along is when Obi-Wan gets word that Qui-Gon died on Naboo. Satine finds him in his room after he didn't show up for something and he's practically catatonic on the floor, the room in a state of disarray. She sits down next to him and just offers him her silent presence until eventually he reaches over to hold her hand and she grasps it back. The two of them sit on that floor for the entire night until she has to leave to go to a meeting in the morning. They never discuss it.

And then TCW comes around and we're just assuming canon went mostly as per usual somehow and so the war still starts and the Jedi are leading the clone army and Death Watch has been building over on Concordia and Ferus Olin shows up on Mandalore to figure out what's going on. Ferus tries to speak to Obi-Wan because he'd heard a lot about Obi-Wan from Siri even though they'd obviously never had a chance to meet and Siri had mostly fallen out of contact with Obi-Wan by the time she took on Ferus, but he has very little time to do much more than tell Obi-Wan who he is and pass on the news that Siri had died recently during the war.

Then Satine goes to speak to Coruscant to convince them that she's NOT the one sending people to attack supply ships and she ends up bringing Obi-Wan with her. Obi-Wan isn't allowed to take part in the political dinner she has with Ferus and the other senators, so he wanders and ends up meeting Ferus's men, including Waxer, Boil, and Cody. Cody is initially more stiff and formal given Obi-Wan's assumed political position as Satine's spouse, but he warms up to Obi-Wan eventually, especially when Obi-Wan is able to sense the spider droids in the cargo area and proves himself a decent shot. Obi-Wan asks for stories of Ferus because he was fairly certain he wouldn't get a chance to really get to know him on this trip, but he'd been close with Ferus's old master and wanted to get to know the student Siri had trained in the only way available to him. Waxer and Boil are more than happy to tell him what stories they know and even Cody joins in eventually. A few other troopers switch out with Waxer and Boil later and Obi-Wan is able to get even more stories. This is the closest Obi-Wan has felt to a group of people in almost 20 years and he feels practically giddy about it.

When they arrive on Coruscant, Obi-Wan is told to stay in the apartments they're given, but when things go sideways for Satine, she has no one else she can call for help that she trusts except Obi-Wan, so he still comes in to help her with the assassins and manages to make his way into the Senate building to pass over the evidence she'd acquired to Padme, someone Satine believed to be trustworthy. It works, and Satine is able to be "neutral" in the war without having to leave the Republic. Before they leave, though, Satine tries to insist that Obi-Wan should go visit the Jedi Temple, try to see if any of his friends are currently there, just experience being there again, but he refuses. When she tries to push the issue, Obi-Wan snaps at her to drop it and insists that they just leave immediately. She does, and they leave without Obi-Wan being able to get anyone's contact information.

However, Satine is different after this. This was perhaps the first time in almost two decades that the two of them had actually worked TOGETHER on something and it reminded her of how they had used to be. It reminds her of the person Obi-Wan used to be, and the person he was supposed to become, the person he'd chosen to give up for her and her goals for Mandalore. And she hates the person she sees now, this defeated, jaded man she's helped create. So she goes back to him when they arrive on Mandalore and tries to talk to him again about why he didn't want to visit the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan isn't receptive initially, asking her why she cares and rolling his eyes at her when she claims that she cares because she cares about him. But eventually, her gentle nudging gets him to admit that it would've hurt more than he could bear to walk in his home again knowing he couldn't stay. And it would've been too painful to see his people caught in a war that was killing them, to know just how many of his friends were now dead, and be unable to do anything to help them. It felt almost like it would've been insulting for him to have done so. Satine tells him that she doesn't quite understand, obviously, she'll likely never entirely understand how he feels, but she knows now that she doesn't NEED to understand. She just needs to accept how he feels and be there for him. She asks if there's anything she can do to help, and Obi-Wan is silent for a moment, almost stunned by this changed version of his wife, before telling her that there's nothing she can do to help him with this, but he'll let her know if that changes.

Their relationship doesn't really MEND afterwards, but it becomes less actively hostile. Satine tells him about her day sometimes, including the political things she gets involved in. She asks him questions about his time as a Jedi and listens when he chooses to say something (and when he tells her he'd rather not discuss it). They occasionally take meals together now, although they're often awkward and uncomfortable. Satine starts very VERY quietly looking into the option of a divorce. She doesn't say anything to Obi-Wan in case she can't follow through on it, but she at least wants to know her options.

When Padme shows up, she invites Obi-Wan to dine with them and when they go visit the children's hospital. When the council meets, she invites both Padme AND Obi-Wan, and it's the first time Obi-Wan ever sits in on a meeting with the council. Padme still asks to speak, but Obi-Wan tries to stay as unobtrusive as possible. Even during the rest of Satine's hunt for the perpetrator of the poisoned drinks, he keeps to himself. Right up until she starts threatening the innocent dock worker if he doesn't blow up the warehouse. He steps in and defends the dock worker's insistence that the warehouse could have evidence in it that could actually lead them to who allowed this to happen and while he understands her anger at the situation, making a statement isn't worth losing valuable time and information. Satine almost snaps back at him before his words sink in and she recognizes them to be true and she allows the warehouse to stay, but orders that it be quarantined and blocked off from the public.

Satine still wants to call for Jedi assistance in looking into the issue and Quinlan Vos is sent to help her. Obi-Wan remembers him from before he left, they'd been friends and he remembers being attracted to Quinlan and thinking Quinlan might have similar feelings back, but neither had acted on it and they hadn't quite known each other well enough to keep in contact after he married Satine. Much to Obi-Wan's surprise, he's no less attracted to Quinlan now than he was as a teenager, but it's not something he can actually act on and Quinlan is here to do a job anyway. But Quinlan remembers Obi-Wan, too, and takes the opportunity to get to know him again. His laid-back attitude and sarcastic quips start pulling Obi-Wan out of his shell a little. Satine takes a step back on this one and allows Obi-Wan to be her primary "ambassador" between the government and the Jedi representative, which allows Obi-Wan to get out and do something more productive to actually help Mandalore finally and gives him more time to bond with Quinlan. They discover the Prime Minister's secret black market dealings. Because they're still within the Republic, their supply of goods isn't actually THAT impacted, Almec is just a greedy asshole.

When Quinlan leaves, he insists on leaving his contact information with Obi-Wan and while he does warn that, due to the nature of his work, he likely won't be able to immediately respond very often, he'll make sure to always respond once he's in a position to do so and Obi-Wan should feel free to just keep sending/leaving messages for him. Obi-Wan says he'll think about it, but he sends his first message the next day. The contact is still pretty sporadic, Quinlan sometimes doesn't respond for a week or two at a time, but true to his word, he DOES always respond eventually and always seems happy to have received Obi-Wan's communications.

And then Maul invades Mandalore with Death Watch. Obi-Wan tries to speak up again when Satine says the people have made their choice, he tries to convince her that this fight is hardly over and if she was able to bring together all of the warring clans and force them into a 20-year-peace, she can fight this and keep Death Watch from outplaying her. She points out that Death Watch is armed while most of her guards were killed when the criminals attacked, but she agrees to at least TRY to negotiate and win back the hearts and minds of the people. When she and Obi-Wan show up to negotiate, Pre Viszla isn't there, Maul is, and he immediately kills her. Obi-Wan is barely able to escape because his use of the Force to hold Maul back shocks him enough to give Obi-Wan an opening and Bo-Katan shows up at the last second and gets him to a ship.

Obi-Wan is devastated by the events, obviously, he never wanted Satine DEAD or Mandalore run by a Sith and they'd just started to fix things between them, but a guilty part of him is also relieved because he's finally free. He goes to Coruscant to request asylum from the Republic and and he ends up staying within the Jedi Temple in order to receive their protection. The Jedi set Obi-Wan up with a mind healer to help him through not just the trauma of Death Watch and Maul's attack on Mandalore, but the impact of the entire last few decades since he left the Order. Obi-Wan immediately sheds his formal Mandalorian clothing and starts wearing Jedi robes again, he spends a lot of time reading in the Archives and meditating in the gardens and just wandering around the Temple and sort-of soaking up the serenity that still exists there despite the war and its effect on the Jedi. It's painful to know how many of his old friends and mentors are already lost, still, but there are still many left alive and the Temple still stands. It's still a bastion of hope. Instead of the painful visit he anticipated the last time he was on Coruscant, he can feel himself beginning to heal the moment he steps foot back in the Temple.

He speaks to Yoda quite a lot and while Yoda does ask if Obi-Wan has considered rejoining the Order, Obi-Wan isn't really sure. He'd obviously be a particularly unorthodox case since he'd need to finish (restart really) his training at a very old age and his old Master is long dead. Yoda tells him that Obi-Wan definitely isn't ready yet, he needs to heal a little more, but he hasn't lost as much of his training as he thinks he has, and after the war, they'll need more good Jedi to help replenish their numbers. Yoda promises to take him on as his last student if he does choose to come back, but also promises him that none of them will think any less of him if he decides it's no longer the right path for him to walk. Obi-Wan agrees to think on it.

Eventually, Obi-Wan meets Quinlan again and the attraction they'd once had for each other as teenagers rekindles and combines with the friendship they'd begun developing the last time they met. Obi-Wan is uncertain about having sex given that his only experiences with it have been the disastrous attempts at creating an heir with Satine that were so emotionally draining and so damaging to their relationship, but Quinlan takes it slow and makes sure they both have a good time and doesn't just walk away afterwards, but stays until the morning. They spend time training together, with Obi-Wan trying to remember what he'd been taught before and Quinlan giving him pointers and offering to spar whenever he's up to it.

One day, Obi-Wan is wandering the halls, just looking at the artwork on the walls of the Temple, when he hears someone address him as "Your Grace" and he turns to see Cody standing nearby. Obi-Wan is exceedingly happy to have confirmation that Cody has survived the intervening time since they'd last seen each other and offers to show Cody around the Temple a little (Cody's been given a tour before, but he opts not to tell Obi-Wan that, besides it's a big place and he'll probably have different places to show Cody than Ferus had). They end up spending all day together at the Temple and agree to meet up again before Cody has to leave. This time, Obi-Wan makes sure to get Cody's contact information before he goes and they continue to keep in contact with each other as often as they can.

Bo-Katan eventually shows up at the Temple and demands that he help her fix and restore Mandalore after Maul and Death Watch's takeover because he may have been an outsider, but he was married to Satine for two decades, he has a responsibility to Mandalore, etc etc. And he refuses. He gave his entire life to Mandalore, he gave up everything to try to help Satine fix Mandalore and look where it led. Satine is dead now, he won't make the same mistake twice. If Bo-Katan wants to try to fix what she broke on her home planet, she can go through the proper channels and ask the Republic Senate for assistance. He owes Mandalore nothing. Bo-Katan asks if he ever even loved Satine at all. He looks her dead in the eye and says, "Did you?" Bo-Katan leaves.

Maybe at one point, he ends up running into Anakin in the Temple, like maybe Anakin sits at Obi-Wan's table for a meal or something and he's clearly agitated, so Obi-Wan tries to be polite and ask if he's okay and because Obi-Wan is a complete stranger, Anakin sort-of snaps and tells Obi-Wan things he likely shouldn't. He's probably sleep deprived and caught up in his head and barely thinking about the ramifications of what he's doing, he's just upset and needs to talk to SOMEONE. Maybe he's had an argument with Padme or thinks she's cheating on him or something to that effect, so he can't talk to Padme and he hasn't been able to make it to Palpatine yet, so he's stuck at the Temple and Obi-Wan kind-of just ends up caught in the crossfire, for better or worse, and figures out not only that Anakin is married to a sitting senator (from a planet that doesn't allow their senators to be married no less), but that he did SOME kind of horrible thing not too long ago that his secret wife is aware of and that definitely breaks the Jedi code. Obi-Wan does his best to navigate the minefield that is this conversation before Anakin just sort-of wanders off and then immediately decides to report what he's learned to the Council.

The Council calls Anakin in and interrogates him about this and they speak to Padme to try to get to the bottom of it. Both of them deny it, but it turns out that the Jedi interrogating Anakin and Padme about it spurs one of Padme's handmaidens into finally bringing the evidence she's been collecting to the attention of the Naboo government. She has evidence of Padme being secretly married to a Jedi, evidence that Padme has used her relationship with Anakin to ensure he prioritizes Naboo, evidence that Padme has ditched her responsibilities as a senator to spend time with Anakin. And while Padme had no issue lying to the Jedi Council, especially when all they had was hearsay from one witness, she can't lie to her own government when it's her own handmaiden who is presenting all of this evidence against her. She HAS to confess and her confession inevitably brings down Anakin, too.

The Council offer Anakin the opportunity to make a different choice, to terminate his marriage with Padme and re-commit to the Order. He'd have to be removed from his position as a General in the GAR and grounded to the Temple to speak to a mind healer until the Council decided his commitment was genuine. Anakin initially refuses, but when he tries to go back to Padme, she turns him away. She chose to admit to having covered up Anakin's massacre of the Tuskens as well and that admission turned the accusations from something fairly simple to something much more heinous. Neither Naboo nor the Republic care about the Tuskens, but they do care about one of the Jedi charged with protecting them having massacred a village down to the last child and a sitting senator not reporting him for it. Palpatine has already laid the groundwork for the people of the galaxy to fear the Jedi, so this new information about Anakin is seen as proof that the Jedi could turn on anybody if sufficiently pushed. Padme is going to face serious consequences for covering it up, but the Queen steps in and promises Padme her protection if she agrees to terminate the relationship and promise she'll never see Anakin again. Padme agrees.

Anakin goes back to the Jedi before Palpatine can get to him and agrees to their terms. The relationship is over with Padme, he'll accept the demotion and the mind healing sessions in order to remain a Jedi because it's all he has left. Palpatine can't really speak to him because Anakin's basically under seclusion in the Temple. He's not really speaking to anybody. He does ultimately figure out that it was Obi-Wan who snitched to the Council about him and hates Obi-Wan for it and never wants to speak to him again. Obi-Wan has no problems with that, but he hopes Anakin figures out how to get better, that much anger can't be good for anyone. Ultimately, the mind healing starts to work. Anakin starts being just a little more mindful and starts accepting certain things about Palpatine so that when the Council offers him a job speaking to Palpatine and basically spying on him for the Council, he accepts in order to earn back their trust. Palpatine still tries to manipulate him, pulls out every trick in the book, but this time, Anakin has just enough of a buffer to keep from falling right back into Palpatine's orbit. He figures out Palpatine's a Sith, informs the Council, and ends up invited along when they go to arrest him. Palpatine doesn't survive.

And after that, it's just a matter of everyone settling into a happy fix-it AU. Anakin leaves the Jedi on amicable terms and goes off to do whatever, who cares. Padme stays on Naboo to reconnect with her family. The war ends, the Separatists probably have to realize how little of their government actually functioned and maybe gain a few clues about the atrocities done in their name. Some of them ultimately rejoin the Republic in the wake of these revelations, others refuse and try to continue their own government together, but this time they're actually able to make a treaty with the Republic. The clones are able to stand up for themselves and refuse to continue to be an army for a Republic no longer at war and the Senate votes to demilitarize. The Jedi's work doesn't end with the war, peacekeeping involves a lot more than just fighting after all and this is the part of the job all of them have been hoping to make it back to.

Obi-Wan decides to take Yoda up on his offer and rejoins the Jedi Order as Yoda's last Padawan to finish the journey he started so long ago.

#star wars #obi-wan kenobi #codywan #commander cody #quinlan vos #quinobi #anti obitine #obitine critical #anti satine kryze #satine kryze critical #anti satine #satine critical #obitine arranged marriage au

155 notes · View notes

maybege · 25 days

Text

What If - Part One

Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)

Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.

Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol

Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”

You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.

Well, almost everyone.

“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”

“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”

The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.

Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.

“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.

Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.

You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.

“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”

“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”

You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?

You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.

“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”

Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.

“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”

It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.

Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.

You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.

Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.

One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.

When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?

“ … Paz Vizsla.”

The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?

Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?

When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.

You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.

Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.

“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –

“Hello,” you replied shyly.

He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?

His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.

Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.

“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.

But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.

“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.

“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.

“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”

“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”

That was weirdly touching.

You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.

“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”

“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”

“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”

“You can smell me with that helmet on?”

“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.

“Are you wet?”

“Uh, what?”

His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man?

“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”

You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.

Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.

“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.

Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.

Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”

It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.

You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.

What had this man done to you?

He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.

The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.

Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.

You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”

Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.

He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”

His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.

It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.

“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”

His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.

“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”

“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.

“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”

Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.

“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”

“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.

“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.

At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.

“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.

“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.

“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”

Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.

The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.

His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.

Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.

Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.

The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”

You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.

“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”

Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.

Until his other hand was on your pussy again.

When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.

He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.

Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.

“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”

Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.

He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.

“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.

You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.

How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?

His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.

Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.

And Paz felt it too.

He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.

“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.

With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.

This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“

“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”

And you did.

It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.

And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”

The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.

Which was exactly what you said.

But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.

The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.

“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.

“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.

“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.

“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“You get to come.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to make you come.”

“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.

Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.

Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.

His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.

“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”

Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.

You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.

“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”

“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“

“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”

“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”

“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”

It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.

The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.

You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.

His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.

His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.

“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”

With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.

The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.

It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.

“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”

His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.

Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.

He really was filling you to the brim.

Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.

Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.

“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”

You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.

“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”

His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”

“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

146 notes · View notes

thegreenlizard · 3 months

Text

Mand’alor Kenobi (Duke Kryze)

Obi-Wan leaves the Jedi, marries Satine, gets widowed and ends up as Duke Kryze.

Two alternative endings:

1) Jango Fett resurfaces and returns to Mandalore; or

2) After the war, Cody and his brothers receive an offer for repatriation from the Duke.

Obi-Wan leaves the order for Satine—and for Mandalore, ravaged by a civil war that never truly stops.

During his mission to Mandalore, Obi-Wan not only keeps Satine alive but is invaluable in consolidating her power. However, the hostilities never truly cease, the political situation is a powder keg, and at the conclusion of the Jedis’ mission, Satine sees how it’s Obi-Wan who’s holding the tenuous peace together. She asks him to stay and he leaves the order—not only for Satine, but for Mandalore and her people whom he feels the conclusion of their mission leaves hanging.

In the following months, everybody is running ragged trying to keep Mandalore together. Having already proved his worth as a negotiator/mediator, Obi-Wan quickly rises to a lynchpin position in the new government. Despite his background as a Jedi, his actions during the clan wars have earned him the respect of the more traditional warrior clans and he’s seen as a more moderate option to Satine’s extremism. Tl;dr: instead of treating Obi-Wan as arm candy, Satine puts him to work and inadvertently puts a lot of political power in his hands. What can you say? Sizeable and/or politically influential fraction of Mandalore’s population/clans likes Obi-Wan better than Satine.

To prevent her fragile and fractious government from splintering further (and to put an end to the talk about republic agents), Satine and Obi-Wan decide to make their relationship official and marry. Half of it is because they truly care for each other, but half of it is to consolidate the political power and marry the separate factions within their government together. They have irreconcilable differences of opinion when it comes to politics, but they both want what’s best for the people and that’s a unified leadership that’s not fighting with itself. So they have screaming matches in private, but pull together in public.

Stuff happens, Death Watch kills Satine (with or without the involvement of the Sith)—and New Mandalorians/Sundari/Mandalore unites behind the widowed Duke Kryze.

SO: That’s either a plot or a setup for the erstwhile Mand’alor Vhett to resurface, with or without an army of clones, a galactic war, the return of the Sith, and perhaps a political marriage that may finally unite Mandalore.

Perhaps:

- Obi-Wan grieves his wife, he truly does. But in the aftermath, he hardly has the time. And in retrospect, he has to wonder if half of the reason why achieving compromise always seemed like an uphill battle wasn’t because he spent half of his time fighting Satine and trying to moderate her extremism to something more palatable to the clans.

- In the aftermath, Obi-Wan may or may not finally succeed in putting down the Kyr’tsad and winning the Darksaber, which may or may not go a long way in convincing the remaining traditionalist and Kyr’tsad clans to get in line.

- Any Sith coming to take a piece of Mandalore or its Duke may find they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.

- Korkie Kryze may or may not be Satine and Obi-Wan’s son. Or maybe he is Satine’s baby nephew—Obi-Wan and Satine may still end up adopting him, depending on who else is left.

- Bo-Katan Kryze may or may not survive Kyr’tsad, but regardless, a Death Watch lieutenant is not going to be accepted by the people. She may get a seat in Obi-Wan’s council to placate Kyr’tsad loyalists, but she has no shot at getting the rule. Tbh, Obi-Wan would absolutely be the type to adopt his late wife’s feral terrorist little sister.

- Obi-Wan ends up adopting a full squad of feral murder children, in a true Mandalorian fashion.

- Jinn may or may not be alive; Anakin may or may not be his apprentice or have taken refuge on Naboo after his death; Obi-Wan may or may not be carrying a grudge towards the Sith for killing the man who raised him. And then killed his wife.

- The idea of marriage is probably actually first put forward by the clans who dislike Satine but find Obi-Wan acceptable. That would be a compromise solution: they’d accept Satine’s rule, but with the moderating influence of Obi-Wan as her husband.

- Actually, wasn’t “Ben” a nickname that Obi-Wan was originally given by Satine? He might then go by “Ben Kryze” after his marriage.

- Mand’alor is the sole ruler → before and during the Clan Wars, Obi-Wan is titled the duke. After he’s unified Mandalore under one sole government, he’s the Mand’alor.

- Timeline fuckery: instead of 15, Obi-Wan and Satine are ~20, early 20s. Young, but not teenagers. Satine may be a few years older.

- Jango may think he’s coming to Mandalore to oust the hu’tuun Duchess’s Jetii widow, only to find said widow to be a) the most mandokarla verd he has ever met, and b) more widely supported than he himself ever was. There’s no ousting the Duke now and if Jango were to kill him, he would only succeed in making him a martyr and uniting Mandalore further in avenging him. Jango… deals with these revelations. Well—he tries.

ALTERNATIVELY: After the war, Marshal Commander Cody and his brothers receive an unexpected offer of repatriation from Duke Kryze of Mandalore, who was tragically widowed during the war.

And perhaps:

- The offer may or may not be unexpected: if the Sith decided to go after Mandalore, there’s no saying what the Mandalorians might have discovered and whether their Mand’alor might have taken a proactive approach to the threat.

- The second dark sabre wielding Jedi Mand’alor might be something of stuff of legends—or nightmares—in the republic space/among the clones.

- Jango Fett might not have wanted the clones, but apparently this Duke Kryze does. If he is to be believed, Fett might have been the vode’s dar’buir, but according to Mandalorian law, there is no such thing as a dar’ad. Whether Jango Fett ever called them his sons or not, the mere fact of consciously partaking in their creation is enough to make them recognised as such in Mandalorian space.

- And so, here in Cody’s hands is an offer of citizenship for all of his vode; colourful pamphlets about various welfare and retraining programs; and apparently, a seat in the Duke’s council for the aliit’alor Vhett.

- Cody is torn between crying from relief (an end to the indeterminate arguments in the senate between citizenship and decommissioning?) and justified suspicion (a no-strings offer of home and sentient rights for all of his brothers? Too good to be true).

- Mandalore’s famous warriors have been decimated first in the clan wars and then in the galaxy wide conflict, which has left Mandalore in a more precarious position than may outwardly seem. The offer is not purely altruistic (Mandalore would be gaining an army of millions), even if Obi-Wan does also see it as justice. To Cody who’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop, this feels like relief. This, he can understand. What’s honestly more confusing is the Duke rushing to explain that acting in defence of Mandalore is something that’s expected from every citizen, not just the vode. Moreover, if someone can not or chooses not to fight, they are not forced to do so, simply expected to do their part in another way.

- And if the clones want to ply their trade as mercenaries? Well, it’s a time honoured profession on Mandalore—of course they may. As it happens, in the aftermath of a galactic war, there’s no end of work for hired guns. This may… upset the struggling republic. Any vode that decide to seek work in republic space keep their buckets tightly on as they may or may not be recognised as sentient, still—and other Mandalorians do so in support. Not all of them may *like* the clones, but treating other mandalorians as lost property? Not cool.

- Culturally, I would absolutely see Mandalorians as the sort of a culture that would not only think that their children are their future, but also that their people are their strength. The republic might see millions of vode as mouths to feed and bodies to house. But Mandalore? They see millions of trained warriors the republic doesn’t seem to want anymore and think “the greatest prize in the galaxy, up for grabs”.

- If Obi-Wan went on the offensive, he could declare that the vode are citizens of Mandalore by birth and the republic better stop treating Mandalorian warriors as expendable slaves or else. He can’t, of course. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting to.

- If Jango Fett dies as in canon, Obi-Wan’s family of adorable murder children might or might not include Boba. If the kids don’t kill each other, Obi-Wan will go down in history as Mand’alor the Unifier. This sort of adopting the offspring of your slain enemies is not ethically unproblematic btw, but on the other hand, I could see how the practice might fit in the Mandalorian culture.

About politics & war:

- Point of contention: Satine wants to exile the traditionalists to Concordia, there to fight each other to extinction in a pointless battle for dominance (canon, what the fuck?). Obi-Wan wants to unite Manda’yaim, not divide it further. This point alone, if he manages it, would win him points over Satine. So: instead of all traditionalists exiled, Obi-Wan manages to wrangle a shaky alliance of New Mandalorians and moderate traditionalists. Not necessarily the same bunch as Haat Mando’ade though there might be overlap.

- Satine, meanwhile, would be happy to import agricultural products from Concordia to the biodomes of Sundari. That’s a mess from an economic and food security standpoint. Again I ask: canon, what the fuck? You exile the unwanted parts of your population and then rely on them for food production? That’s not actually a realistic plot point, maybe scrap it and write something that provides actual political tension that doesn’t make caricatures of any sides/characters.

- Actually, the New Mandalorian policies in the preceding years are probably a large influence in the development of the extremism of Kyr’tsad. (Canon—wtf, I might be tempted to terrorism if my government unilaterally exiled large fractions of the population?)

- During the clone wars, Kyr’tsad still allies with Dooku and the Sith. The civil war, which had been on a slow simmer, boils over again. In the fighting, Satine is assassinated. Obi-Wan is not only the best but practically the only option to succeed her and keep the precarious alliance of New Mandalorians and moderate traditionalists together.

- It’s a long and a bloody fight against enemies both at home and in the shadows; fought with guns, with diplomacy, with fixing the deep divides in their society, and hunting the shadows fuelling the flames. Obi-Wan proves himself the same military genius and negotiator as he did in canon. He’s decisive, ruthless and compassionate.

- And eventually, he manages to defeat the leader of Kyr’tsad in single combat, wrangle the warring clans to the negotiation table, hunt the Sith, and unite Mandalore. And that’s how the Mandalorian civil wars and the Clone Wars tie together at the end there, and how Obi-Wan emerges from those wars: with united but weakened Mandalore, a dead wife, and a couple of orphaned foundlings. Victorious, but grieving. The erin on his armour long since painted over with black and gold (which he has earned many times over now, avenging his wife and his people). While the rest of the galaxy is reeling from the aftermath of the war, the republic shaken to its foundations, the separatists defeated but but still seceding, the weakened republic unable to hold onto CIS territories.

- This is the man Marshal Commander Cody meets. This Mand’alor, who seemed to have emerged from the funeral pyre of his wife in the image of the legends of old, reforging the Mandalorian empire anew. But still: just a man, victorious but grieving; with a core of beskar, but a heart so full of light it makes Cody’s teeth ache. Cody: Himself one expendable clone among millions, defying his fate and rising to lead armies to victory or ruin. And yet, a man fresh out of a war that has decimated his brothers and broken his faith in the galaxy.

#plot bunny #blanket permission #mand’alor kenobi #codywan #or #jangobi #space bunnies #space bunnies on mandalore

142 notes · View notes

livyjh · 10 months

Note

Heya can I make a request on Din Djarin and reader? What if when Reader sees how Bo and Din are getting closer and such she gets jealous and insecure thinking thinking din could do better than her because they are in a relationship. She thinks Grogu could have a better mother so she ignores Din and when he finds out why she ignored him *smut* hehehe then he takes all night to show her how he worships her and the ground she walks on and how he would be nothing without her?

Thanks so much love your stories

Hello!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE!!!! I’ve been on a little hiatus, lots of stuff going on. Work is crazy, I’ve got a girlfriend now 👀, life stuff, yknow?

As always, thank you for your request and I hope you like it. Anyways, here’s a thing!

Everything I Wanted

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: smuttttt, reader feeling insecure and sad about their relationship with Din

Din Djarin Masterlist

**************************************************

You and Din have been together about a year now, and while things were good… they could be better.

The last few weeks he’s been spending a lot of time with Bo-Katan Kryze. She’s great, she’s so sweet and gets along with everyone really well. Grogu has even taken quite the liking to her.

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your tired eyes. You’re sat in the kitchen of yours and Din’s new little place on Nevarro. Grogu and Din are both still asleep, Grogu in his own little room and Din in the bedroom you shared with him.

You felt bad, you’ve been acting cold to Din since Bo came into the picture recently. The more you thought about it, the more you believed that she would be better for Din and Grogu than you would. A better girlfriend. Better mother.

It’s early morning, you woke up to use the fresher around 4am and decided not to go back to bed, just make yourself a little breakfast, sit and ponder things at the kitchen table.

It’s almost 6am when you hear footsteps padding from the bedroom towards you.

“Morning, cyar’ika.” Din’s voice is gravelly and sleepy as he comes up behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

You shrug his shoulders away and he moves around the chair to look at you properly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head and give a fake smile.

“It’s not nothing.” Din sighs. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks. I thought at first maybe you were just having a few bad days. But now, I don’t know what’s going on.” He sat down next to you and put his hand over yours on the table.

You looked up at him, eyes welling up. “I…” you frown and blink away the tears. “I think that you should be with Bo.”

Din raises a brow at you, then laughs in disbelief. “Wait… what?”

“She’s obviously better than me. Grogu likes her. You like her.”

“Not like that. Not like you.” He says, sad.

You look down into your empty oats bowl. “I just think she’s the better choice.”

“It’s my choice.” Din speaks quietly but sternly. “And I choose you. Always.” He shakes his head. “Can’t believe this whole time you’ve been feeling like this.”

“I just want what’s best for you.” You sigh and look back up at him, staring into his beautiful, brown eyes.

“You are what’s best for me.” He smiles softly and leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

You give a weak smile as he moves to stand up, pulling on your hand to have you follow him. “Come on.” He hums.

You nod, following him back to the bedroom. He closes the door and lets go of your hand as you walk to the bed. You sit on the edge with your legs hung over the side.

Din comes to sit next to you, putting an arm around your waist. “How can I prove it to you?”

“What?” You look at him.

“How can I prove that you’re my best choice?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

Din thinks for a second and then gets a smirk on his face. He leans in and kisses your cheek. Than your jaw. Then your neck, exactly where you like to be kissed most.

You hum softly and close your eyes, tilting your head back to give him more access. Din is soon pushing you by the shoulders to lay down as his kisses trail down your partially exposed chest, you were just wearing a basic, short, pink slip at the moment. Along with underwear.

“Baby, you don’t have to-“

“I know, sweet girl. I want to. I need to. Need to show you how much I love you.” He smiles up at you and brings your legs up onto the bed, one on each side of him as he settles over you. He kisses your lips one more time before crawling back enough to push your slip up, pulling it until it comes off of you. Next were your panties.

You’re watching him in amazement as his rough, strong hands somehow do it all so delicately. He moves back even further, getting on his elbows between your legs. You instinctually start to close them, always feeling too shy with him to let him eat you out. It’s just… you always squirted when you got eaten out, so it was generally saved for special occasions. You supposed this must be one of them.

He smirks up at you and pushes your thighs apart gently. “Let me see you.” He says softly.

You nod and lick your lips as you let him spread your legs. You soon feel his hot breath on your cunt, making your eyes flutter shut and your head fall back on the pillow.

His mouth attaches to you and his tongue starts to dip into you, gathering your slick and moving it upwards to your clit. His tongue circles your sensitive bud, teasing it and tasting it.

“Baby…” you whine softly.

“Mmm.” He lets out a low rumble that vibrates through your center.

“Din-“ you gasp, reaching down for his hair, opening your eyes again to meet with his.

He’s watching you as his mouth works you over, hands squeezing your inner thighs and keeping them apart. But soon, one of his hands moves down, in, and two fingers start to push into you.

You gasp softly, feeling yourself get even wetter at the action. Din curls his fingers upwards against your g-spot and your hips lift off the bed for a moment as you whine.

“Please-“ you moan softly as you pull his hair harder, starting to grind against his mouth and nose.

He grunts as he sucks on your clit harder, fingering you faster. You’re barely able to watch him, barely able to keep your head up as this intense pleasure fills you.

Your orgasm is quickly approaching, your toes curling and stomach tightening as it does. “Baby-“ you breathe out. “I’m-“

He bites down on your clit and that’s what does it.

“Din-!” You gasp his name loudly as you feel your wetness squirting out of you and into his mouth, dripping down his chin and onto the bed. He groans at the taste of you, eyes closing when you pull his hair even harder than before.

It takes you a good minute or two to recover as Din licks you clean gently. You take a deep breath, looking down at him. “Come here.” You whine.

He immediately does what you ask, moving up the bed and kissing you deeply. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, hands settling on his shoulders.

It’s not long before you feel his stiffened cock pressing against your pussy through his underwear.

“Nghh-“ he rolls his hips down against you and you tilt your head back, eyes closing.

“Wanna keep showing you how much I love you.” He groans into your ear.

“Please…” you nod softly, loving the feel of his beard against your cheek.

He maneuvers out of his underwear and then he’s right there again, his lips are on your neck as the head of his cock presses against your entrance.

You shiver with anticipation, it’s only a moment before he’s pushing inside, stretching you in the best way.

He lets out a long sigh once he’s in to the hilt before slowly pulling back out. You can barely handle all the feeling going on at once. His mouth on your neck, one hand on your chest, his hardness moving in and out of you.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he sets a slow pace, almost torturing. The hand he has on your chest moves down to rub your clit, massaging it in circles.

“Fuck… yeah, j- just like that.” You stutter out, squeezing your thighs around his hips.

“Wanna feel you tighten around me…” he pushes his hips forward as far as he could while still having room to play with your bundle of nerves.

He stills inside you and you feel your second climax building. He rubs faster circles into you, making you moan as your legs start to shake.

“Come on, mesh’la. I’ve got you.” His breath ghosts over your collarbone.

“I’m so close-“ you cry out, hips jerking upwards.

“Let go.” He hums, moving down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

All at once it’s too much and you tip over the edge, gripping his shoulders as you whimper his name. He groans as he feels you pulse around him, velvet walls squeezing his cock.

You’re almost sobbing from how good it feels, his fingers gradually slowing down as your body began to relax. “Fuck.” You curse, looking down at him as he pulls his mouth off your breast.

He leans up and kisses your lips as his hips start to pull out before snapping back in. You gasped at the feeling, your sensitive pussy fluttering.

You moan into his mouth as he starts fucking into you at a quicker pace this time. “Love you so much, cyar’ika.” He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours.

“L- love you, Din.” You hum shakily, angling your face upwards to kiss him again.

You spend a long few minutes like this, kissing passionately as he makes love to you. He keeps telling you over and over again how much you mean to him, how he felt like there’d be a hole in his heart without you, that he needs you in his life. You��re truly believing him, his body moving faster with yours.

“Baby, I need-“ you take a breath and grab his hand that’s placed on your waist, moving it upward and guiding him to tease your breast.

“Anything.” He hums, pinching and pulling at your nipple as he pounded into you as fast as he could, his hips slapping against your ass loudly.

Your breathing becomes uneven and fast, you giving a high pitched moan with each exhale.

“Gonna cum for me?” Din tweaks your nipple especially hard to emphasize his words.

You nod furiously. “Y- yes!”

“Want me to fill you up?” He asks.

“Please!” You whimper.

“That’s my girl.” He groans and his hips stutter as he cums hard into you.

His throbbing cock and the nipple play is enough, making you almost scream as your orgasm washes over you. You’re both moaning at each other, pleasure making you dumb.

You’re blissed out, whining softly when he stops and pulls out of you. You feel his cum leak from your cunt as he moves to lay down next to you.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in so that your back is against his chest. He noses at the hair next to your ear before kissing the spot just below it.

You hum happily, eyes closed as you feel yourself drift to sleep in his arms. Everything was going to be okay.

165 notes · View notes

gffa · 1 year

Note

I was wondering if you could share your thoughts and feelings on Felonys takes over the years overall? I know a lot of people see him as this grand savior of star wars without much more to it so I wanted to hear your take on how he handles the pre-established world he writes for and the dissonance with what George Lucas established/said before

Honestly, I think a lot of Felony's appeal is that he writes a very polished story and that's appealing to audiences (no shade, I'm part of that audience!) and that he has at least given some thought to what the Force means. There are a lot of takes he has that I agree with, I still quote what he says about the characters at times, but I think he has a big central problem and that's characterization drift-slash-the inability to let go. Well, two big central problems: He also can't write/finish a narrative arc to a satisfying conclusion. I have such a hard time getting into the Mandalorian storyline because it's been told in snippets for like 10+ years now and it's never really coherently come together, it still has huge gaps in it, it doesn't have a strong narrative central theme that he sticks to, but instead told through cameos and mini-arcs in separate shows. And when you examine a lot of his work, it often doesn't hold up to scrutiny because I'm not sure he has a solid thematic throughline that's driving him--like, some of the choices he made in season 7 of TCW are baffling--Ahsoka walks right by people who need her help, then says, "In my life, when someone needs help, I help them."??? When she wants the Jedi to help Mandalore instead of Coruscant, she says the Jedi aren't helping the people who really need them, despite that Coruscant is under attack and that's where Trace and Rafa are, the characters we just spent an entire arc on?? Ahsoka and Bo-Katan want the Republic to literally invade Mandalore, this is brought up in the arc itself, and then never mentioned again because it's inconvenient and the author doesn't want to deal with the established worldbuilding?? I also don't think he knows how to end a story, like I love Ahsoka as a character, but he very much does favor her and a lot of her appearances are starting to feel like she's only there because Filoni can't resist. She just never ends, there's no conclusion to her, what's even her character arc over the course of her life after the Jedi genocide? She's obviously dealing with trauma about it and now she's looking for Ezra to find him again, but what's the character arc on a personal level? Is she still dealing with letting go of Anakin, ~30 years after it happened? Did she not put that to rest in Rebels finally? @david-talks-sw has a great post about the differences between George Lucas and Dave Filoni here, illustrating that I do think Dave misses some really key points about characters that he has personal biases against. And, you know, I'm not getting after him for that, I disagree with him and I think he's wrong about a lot of stuff that Lucas directly established, but I also think a lot of people dismiss criticism of him because, oh, he worked with George and therefore he's an extension of George! No, he's a different writer with his own strengths and weaknesses, one I think who makes very popular (often for a reason) Star Wars, but I think misses the heart a lot of times. But I also often think of that he doesn't try to see himself as the grand lord of Star Wars, either, even he himself says:

He's not the ultimate authority on Star Wars, he's just as fallible as anyone else is, and always should be. I think he made Star Wars shows that a lot of people loved, he has a very polished style, and he has given thought to the characters he loves. He just also has biases and directly conflicts with George Lucas' established story and I think that's fair to point out. Maybe you like those better, I'm not trying to talk anyone out of that, but it's still fair game for me to point out that I think he's wrong about Star Wars just as often as he's right. (And that, as time goes on and The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett became more and more of a hot mess, I grew less charitable. This is a major overview, I don't want to get too into the weeds on this, I've gone over a lot it in past meta, and it would be exhausting to dig it all up again, but basically this is why I'm on the fence about Felony. He has a lot of weaknesses as a writer and I don't find I like his strengths more than I dislike his weaknesses sometimes.)

#dave filoni #lumi.txt #i realize you probably want more detail than this #but i cannot stress enough how unproductive that seems to me #because i would spend hours combing through my posts about his arcs #or commentary he's said #and be annoyed all over again #because it's not fun to dig into things that frustrate me #and i don't think i'm going to convince anyone to change their mind

367 notes · View notes

muldyfi · 1 year

Text

I don’t often do this, I am very team ‘Yay TV is the best and I’m either going to enjoy it or I’m not going to watch it...’ but I need to rant a little bit about the Mandalorian season finale.

I work in TV, I know stuff goes wrong. And a lot about this season of Mando felt like production issues. Obviously they didn’t have Pedro much (if at all?) and obviously Katee Sackhoff was contracted to appear in every episode which made for some weird story choices in the first two episodes (going from Nevarro to Kalevala to Tatooine to Mandalore instead of Nevarro, Tatooine, Kalevala, Mandalore which makes a lot more sense). And also rumours of stuff being cut from the finale (which it really did feel like happened).

But there were so many story things in this season that weren’t paid off.

1. The Mythosaur. I’m not saying I needed anyone to ride the Mythosaur or use it in battle or whatever, but to start with Bo-Katan saw it in the Mines of Mandalore and then got it on her shoulder pauldron and then NEVER MENTIONED IT TO DIN. That is such a weird story choice that I thought it was going to be a point of conflict between the characters but it just...wasn’t mentioned. Like if she was meant to have told him offscreen why didn’t she just tell him in Ep 3 when he woke up after she rescued him? And then to have all these random monsters attacking everyone all season EXCEPT the Mythosaur is....also very weird.

I actually didn’t want anyone to kill it or hurt it but it would have been nice for Bo-Katan or Din or the Armorer to have a moment being like ‘The Mythosaur is one of us, it’s part of Mandalore and we should respect it.’ Perhaps let the Mythosaur help them defeat their enemy. Basically a reason for it’s existence. Because right now the *only* reason it needed to exist is so the Armorer could be all ‘Bo-Katan saw the Mythosaur so she can lead our people.’ Which was also echoed in ‘Bo-Katan has the Darksaber so she can lead our people.’ Like we get it. She can lead the people.

But the Mythosaur just felt like it wasn’t paid off at all.

2. DinBo. I’m not talking about it as a shipper (I am one, don’t worry, but I didn’t expect anything to actually happen this season. No one in Star Wars gets together unless they’re dying). But why on Earth (or Mandalore) would you build this relationship so well all season, to the point of Din pledging his allegiance to her and then having Bo be all ‘Mandalorians are stronger together’ and then he leaves. What?

This was one of the best built relationships I have seen on TV in a long time. The way that they went from completely not understanding each other to strongly respecting and trusting each other. Where she became Grogu’s other parent. It’s so nice to see a healthy relationship like that. But then it had no pay off.

There needed to be a scene where she thanked him for everything. Where he told her he was leaving. Where Grogu and Bo got to say goodbye because she’s basically is mother now. Anything. Even just a ‘If you ever need me, you know where to find me’ moment. At the very least a scene of them waving at each other. Lizzo and Grogu got a better goodbye than Bo and Grogu did. This genuinely makes me (and I believe everyone else) angry.

3. The Darksaber. Okay so I’m not even going to be upset about the fact that apparently Gideon can crush a Darksaber with his hands when I couldn’t even bend the handle of my plastic one if I tried. But to me the idea of destroying the Darksaber is to prove to Bo-Katan that she can rule Mandalore without it.

It’s not the Darksaber that made her a good leader, but instead the lessons she learnt about uniting her people and trusting and relying on those around her, things she’s never been very good at. There needed to be a moment where she had a meltdown of some sort along the lines of ‘It’s gone, how am I meant to rule now?’ And Din (or the Armorer or Axe and Koska or all the above) tells her that her strength to lead comes from within and isn’t about the Darksaber at all. If this isn’t used to show character growth within Bo-Katan then what is even the point of destroying it?

Honestly this is the thing that annoyed me the most.

4. The Covert and the Armorer. All season I haven’t really been able to tell where they were going with her character or Din’s attitude towards the Covert. But in the pledging to Bo-Katan scene, when Din mentions he was told lies about the other Mandalorians I felt like that was him realising that maybe the Armorer wasn’t so all knowing, that maybe there was another way and that Bo-Katan represented that way to him.

Maybe it was just me being hopeful that he’d change his mind about his religion and take his helmet off so I could see Pedro’s pretty face more often, but if that line wasn’t about him learning that he’d been lied to his whole life I’m not sure why it existed. Honestly this point is probably more about personal taste but I still find it weird.

5. Coruscant. Why the hell did we spend 38 minutes in Coruscant? Why did we have to listen to Imperial officers chatting about Thrawn? Is this all set up for Ahsoka? Because in a season where most of the episodes were shorter than they should be what we really could have used was more time with our main characters having quiet character moments, understanding their wants and needs...which leads me to...

6. Din. Honestly this has never bugged me prior to this season, but suddenly I got really annoyed at him wearing his helmet because I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If we’re not going to see his face, we need to have scenes where he expresses his feelings to someone in words. Otherwise we have a lead character who shows no emotions about anything and doesn’t have an opinion on anything. The most emotion we saw him have all season was when he showed his hatred of battle droids.

I’m sure the reason Bo-Katan ended up being the focus of the season was a lot to do with the fact her helmet was off a lot of the time and we could actually see her emotions. For us to feel like Din is the lead we need to understand what he’s feeling.

The appeal of the Mandalorian to me has always been that it’s simple, straightforward and fun. It’s about the love between a Mandalorian bounty hunter and his adopted son (yay!). And there was a lot of that great stuff in the finale. But it felt twenty minutes too short.

Jon Favreau needs a TV writers’ room. It is literally the job of a writers’ room to be like ‘What if we did this in this more interesting way?’ instead of just one man’s fan fiction. A group of people are always going to come up with something more interesting than one person, it’s why writers’ rooms exist.

Twitter and Tumblr were all very good at coming up with fantastic season finale plots - mind flaying Din, him being tortured and his helmet removed, Thrawn showing up, the Armorer being evil, Axe being a traitor, Bo-Katan dying and Grogu having to bring her back with the Force. All of these things that could have added a heightened emotion and stakes in the finale.

I’m not saying that creators should listen to the internet, this rarely makes for good television, but I am saying Jon Favreau as a solo writer has run his course on this story. He’s not a TV writer either and it was really obvious this season where Dave Filoni seemed less involved because he was focusing on Ahsoka.

Anyway I love this show and I will absolutely look forward to and watch any future seasons, but I was left super disappointed after the finale, despite really loving a lot of it, because it just felt too easy and too emotionally disconnected.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #dinbo #din djarin x bo-katan kryze #bo-katan kryze #grogu #chapter 24 #rant #mando

239 notes · View notes

jessepinwheel · 11 days

Text

it's been a long time since I've said anything about parasitic extraction on this blog and I've gotten a lot of followers since and I am currently being haunted by how much I want it to be real and the preposterous amount of work it would take to make it real so I'm gonna talk about it again

parasitic extraction is a role reversal star wars au (reversing the clones and obi-wan) taking place in an alternate universe mandalorian empire (a different one than most mandalorian empire aus take place in).

basically: three hundred years ago, mandalorians were like "hey the jedi are the only things stopping us from taking over the galaxy" so they attacked coruscant and obliterated the jedi temple, then killed or assimilated the survivors, then carved bloody conquest across the rest of the galaxy

now: jango is emperor, with his clone sons cody and rex (older twins) and boba (younger). the mandalorian empire conscripts jedi within the empire to be trained as superior warriors within their military, while the remnants of the old jedi order are in hiding and working to protect young force sensitives from being taken by the empire as well as working with rebellion forces.

jango hates the jedi to a frankly unhealthy degree and so he has a plan to destroy them all: he decides to make 2000 clones of the only jedi they've ever captured alive (obi-wan) in order to create an elite force of psychic agents who can help capture and subdue the jedi and force them to give up the location of their home planet so that he can send a giant space laser over there and wipe them out of existence

these obi-clones are distributed as special agents all across the galaxy--jango has his own personal obi-clone, cody gets one, rex gets one, satine (with bo-katan and friends) get one, pre visla gets one, ursa wren (with padme and ahsoka) get one, etc. but what jango doesn't know is that all these obi-clones have a sort of psychic hive mind thing going on and they are all plotting to take down the mandalorian empire so they can save obi-wan and the jedi

there's a lot more going on (like plots from death watch who want jango dead yesterday and every single mandalorian character's Massive Issues including how Intensely Abnormal jango is about obi-wan in particular) but that's the overall gist of the story

anyways, ask me questions about parasitic extraction I wanna talk about it more

#fic: parasitic extraction

35 notes · View notes

vanishedangels · 1 year

Text

People trying to justify this season: Din is right there beside her.

Me: No, he's a few steps behind her. (I've even noticed that while watching it the first time.)

Me when I saw this shot:

I remember that I was thinking "Fuck, now that zoom is totally ending leaving Din OUT the frame." It didn't happen tho, but I don't trust them anymore, therefore I was shocked they didn't totally leave Din out the frame. That means a lot, see, I don't usually care about this shit, so it really means something (at least to me) if I'm suddenly paying attention to frames and whatever. It means they fucked big time.

Din is not the main character anymore, Grogu either, Bo-Katan is, and I wouldn't be pissed if they haven't deceived us with pre season's promotions going around Din and Grogu. I'm sorry, but they took us for granted and I'm done.

The trailers, the episodes synopsis, the thumbnails for every episode still revolves around Din and Grogu, but that's not what's really going on in every episode since chapter 18.

Every episode's ending since then:

Chapter 18: The mythosaur appears before Bo-Katan.

Chapter 19: The Armorer and the tribe receives Bo-Katan.

Chapter 20: Bo-Katan tells the armorer that she saw a mythosaur.

Chapter 21: Bo-Katan can remove her helmet because the Armorer said so, she's the one that can unify the mandalorians because she walks both worlds. 🥱

Chapter 22: Din gives her the dark saber, saying she won it since she defeated Din's captor in episode 18.

Everything EVERYTHING that Din has done this season happened to move Bo-Katan's arc further, even his redemption arc was used to give her a place in the covert.

This show worked because of Mando and Grogu's peculiar relationship, they threw that away. 👍🏻

I'm serious, this is what happened:

#the mandalorian #im sorry but im furious #me importa una chota si la remontan en los últimos 2 capítulos lograron hincharme las pelotas y de eso no se vuelve #the mandalorian spoilers

252 notes · View notes

dindjarindiaries · 6 months

Text

Every year with every new season, all the chatter about whether Pedro will be on set for The Mandalorian or not returns. The only season this wasn't a problem for was season 2, and still, a rumor about him being a "behind-the-scenes diva" still caused gossip to fly around.

Trust me, it happens every time, and every time it's proven wrong. Pedro shows he's just as committed to the role, that he loves it just as much, and that sometimes it's simply a matter of what they work out for the scheduling or for the sake of his own physical body.

It's totally okay to be upset about Pedro not being in the suit that much, all feelings about it are valid, of course! It definitely adds a charm that was evident in many season 2 scenes. Din, however, has so far been someone else in the suit probably 75% of the time - and that's the Din we continue to know and love to this day, too. Thus, the story and character wouldn't be impacted by Pedro's absence alone.

For some reason, it seems people want to specifically discredit Pedro's contribution to the role, but that doesn't make sense. It's the same as Darth Vader has been ever since the beginning, but Pedro's been given an even more active role in it. Even for Vader's return in Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hayden wasn't the one in the suit for every single scene. Katee also spoke about how Bo-Katan isn't always her, too. The same goes for Din and Pedro.

Season 3 didn't feel the same because it was a darker tone, and it focused on more than just Din and Grogu. It had a lot to accomplish, and in doing so, it had to sacrifice some of the things that are most beloved about the series. You can agree with that decision and love it, or you can not agree and consider season 3 a miss. Either way, it wasn't any of the actors' faults, as season 1 proved that Din Djarin is just fine without Pedro physically there at all times.

Din Djarin has been a three-person team since the beginning. The things these actors can control about Din's character will be just fine in their hands. The blame for the way a story goes, as was the case in season 3, doesn't deserve to go to any of them.

It's hard to drown out the noise about this situation for every season, and trust me, I've been in this fandom long enough to know that - but a lot of what's said about Pedro seems to be, for some odd reason, many people wanting him to fail, and he won't.

#highlighting the fact it's still okay to be upset about it!#but if you love din's character chances are you fell in love with all three of their interpretations of him #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #star wars discourse

59 notes · View notes

brujitaadinbo · 1 month

Text

I find it curious that many people who did not understand the "sanctuary" chapter in season 1 of The Mandalorian, have the luxury of criticizing chapter 22 of season 3 of this series without solid arguments.

Practically in "The Sanctuary" they show us a clear mirage of what Din longs for in the deepest part of his heart; belong and create bonds, have a house and someone who loves and waits for you. The point was that he couldn't take that temptation, that illusion, with Omera or Sorgan. Because he did not feel part of that world, Grogu came into his life, the changes began and his life began to get on track. It's not that I don't want it; He is waiting for the perfect moment and the right person.

It seems pathetic to me that they want to deny Bo katan, as a possible interest and connection to Din, just because of his "age, rank, status" when he himself told him that those things did not matter to him.

That they want to pigeonhole him to a "simple" life when practically being a Mandalorian is the least simple thing about SW. And by adopting Grogu, of course, the tasks grow.

It's stupid to want to fit Din with a character like Omera; when she was from the beginning a secondary character, that not even the creed could respect.

They see Omera as the prototype of a “submissive couple” and how sad that they pigeonhole her into that and worse that they say that Din needs or wants a partner like that; when we have seen that what Din is least looking for is a nanny or housewife (be careful, these roles should never be ridiculed because it is not correct)

But it is no coincidence that in an entire chapter like 22 Show us that Din and Bo work so harmoniously.

We see them as that team that seems to have known each other for a long time and in reality is not like that; there is synchrony. Then all the symbolism of couples that could have been; those that were not, those that are and those that will be. coincidence??

And love is really like that; It does not have a pattern or guide, it is not even tangible but it is felt. So; Why continue denying chemistry?

Just because Bo Katan has always broken with those stereotypes of "weak women" Bo katan is a warrior, helpful, a woman who has had to make difficult decisions, someone who fights for what she loves; It makes sense that Din would be attracted to someone like that, someone who has given him a greater purpose.

It causes me a lot of noise that at the moment the Duchess hands the key to Bo; a key that is a clear symbol of something that can open many doors, be the guardian of that something, on the planet of "Pleasure" They are given a symbolism of that size, a key so big

What do they want? Because something that size is not easily lost, unless it is stolen. Something that size stays very close to you. coincidence??? I don't believe it.

Then the Duchess closes with that "You can come back here whenever you want, you are welcome."

You really mean what? Invites you to return to the planet of "pleasure" How appropriate, don't you think?

Showing that bond between the three of them and then saying that they are not like a new family… my god, not even they believe that.

And worse, there are people who say that Din imposes motherhood on her; when she little by little became interested in the child at first to rescue him, even though she already had her own priorities. Afterwards she bonds with him and treats him as an equal, she doesn't see him as a stuffed animal, she sees him as a thinking and emotional being. And she takes care of him and is affectionate. For God's sake, you really have to connect your neurons before "criticizing"

It surprises me that there are still people who say "this boring season, what changed?"

God, did I pay you an appointment with the eye doctor? did you really watch the series?

I just want to close with this; Grogu is a sworn knight of the Duchess, from Plazir 15, coincidentally he is a sworn knight of Bo katan and this new shipment with his father…

coincidence?? I don't believe it this is the way.

#the mandalorian #star wars #dinbo #bokadin #this is the way #bo katan kryze #bo katan x din #din djarin #din x bo #clandetres #lucasfilm #loveislove #clan of three

23 notes · View notes

antianakin · 3 months

Note

Do you think you’d like Mandos if they were more like Vikings? I think I heard from somewhere that’s what they were based off of. If they were anything like the TV show Vikings I would be behind them 100%. Imagine if they made Boba more like Ragnar instead of the Feloni version.

I can't quite tell if you're asking me if I'd like Mandalorians if they were written to be more like actual real life vikings or if they were writing more like the way the characters are written in the fictional TV show Vikings, but my answer is going to be similar either way. I don't know enough about either regular viking culture or the way the show Vikings chose to depict them to really be able to answer either way.

The thing I think you're remembering is that I believe it's been said that Lucas chose to bring in Mandalorians as a concept into TCW but changed them up to be more like "pacifist Vikings" (which is why they look the way they do in TCW) because he found that an intriguing concept despite how little it had to do with the way Mandalorians had been depicted in Legends up until then. And that concept mostly seems to come across as like "a group of people who were known for being very violent and doing a lot of pillaging and raiding and fighting in their past but it got to the point where they were so violent that they nearly destroyed themselves and their new leader has enforced a pacifist lifestyle in an effort to keep them from going completely extinct." I don't know that it necessarily took a lot from actual viking culture or traditions beyond that.

The reason I dislike the Mandos is more about the way they're written and the way fans tend to interpret them (especially in relation to the Jedi) than anything else. There's also the issue of like... the contradictions between Legends Mandos, Lucas's Mandos, and Disney/Favroni canon Mandos. People have tried REALLY REALLY HARD to fit in Legends Mando stuff with Lucas's canon Mandos, which leads to this idea that while Lucas shows Mandos as like... very black and white with Death Watch being the more traditional violent version and Satine being the modern pacifist version, there is actually some sort-of in-between that can exist. This is where you get the "True Mandalorians" and characters like Jaster and Jango and even newer characters like Din and, to some degree, Bo-Katan. There's this idea that you can be a violent person who works in something like bounty hunting and still be a good honorable person. Din is someone who does not CARE who he kills so long as he gets paid to do it when we first meet him (his whole catchphrase is "I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold" which tells his marks that he doesn't care if he has to kill them to get the job done), he's even initially fine with child trafficking being a part of his job description and BARELY ends up turning around to rescue Grogu after he's already been paid. And while I understand that this can make for some interesting character work and that a lot of people really enjoy the more morally ambiguous nature of this kind of character, these flaws and nastier choices often get brushed under the rug by their fans to try to portray them as better people than they are.

And of course, this often also ends up leading people to represent these characters, these "True Mandos" as the epitome of what a person should be. That these are people who truly understand honor and love and family, often as a direct contrast to the Jedi specifically. Even though these are people who hunt and kill others FOR A LIVING and are still choosing their leaders based on who can fight well enough to acquire one specific weapon. This is still a culture based primarily around violence, towards each other and towards the rest of the world. This doesn't mean these characters cant' be INTERESTING or ENJOYABLE, but too many people sit there and act like Mandos, especially "True" Mandos, are some sort-of mystical better than everyone else beings instead of the IMMENSELY flawed people that they are who would honestly be much better off if they were more like the Jedi.

This is one of the reasons I initially liked Sabine so much in Rebels, because we see how she has to learn a LOT of Jedi lessons about patience and mercy and sacrifice from Kanan that she's able to then apply to her Mandalorian heritage so that she can recognize which parts of their traditions are worth holding on to (the armor that's been passed down for generations and holds a lot of spiritual meaning regarding connections to their ancestors) and which are not (killing your enemies instead of showing mercy, being forced to be a leader just because she happens to be wielding this one specific weapon even though she's not ready or interested in the position). Notice that the things worth keeping about her culture are the things that are specifically NOT VIOLENT IN NATURE.

I think people also regularly overestimate how important and competent Mandos even are, True, New, or otherwise. We ROUTINELY see Mandos get their asses handed to them, by Jedi, by the Empire, by Rebels. There seems to be this pervasive idea that Mandos could change the course of the galaxy, that Mandos are the BEST fighters in the galaxy and if only they were around to help, they would be able to beat everyone else, and it just. Isn't true. They're good at BEING VIOLENT, sure, but this doesn't actually equate to being a better fighter than anyone else. They're so good at being violent that they keep just... exterminating their own people out of sheer stupidity to the point that they're not a real threat to ANYBODY. They destroy their own planet to the point that it's practically uninhabitable, they refuse to have a civil discussion with a group that is clearly outgunning them and then act surprised when this ends up with all of them fucking dead, they make themselves neutral in a galactic civil war and then act surprised when that means trade dries up, they lead two Sith lords and FOUR crime organizations onto their planet and then act surprised when they end up ousted out of their own leadership and instead accidentally end up with a Sith lord as a leader because he beheaded the Mando guy. Mandos IN GENERAL are just reckless, irresponsible, arrogant assholes, no matter which flavor they come in. They can't even help THEMSELVES let alone the rest of the galaxy.

And to some degree, I think that's part of the point of the Mandos in Lucas's canon, that they're just... total flops most of the time. They're an intentional foil to the Jedi in that they are a culture that RELIES on violence as a cornerstone of their behavior and worldview and never see peace as an option whereas the Jedi relies on peace always being an option and violence is just a last resort as a recognition that many other people don't share their desire for peace. The whole point of Mandos in Lucas's canon and even in Rebels to some degree is that their way of life is BAD and not one that SHOULD be preserved the way that it is. If the Mandos don't figure out how to change, they ARE going to just die out, not because anyone sees them as a threat and wants them eliminated, but because their own arrogance and stupidity is just inevitably going to cause their own end. The Mandos are a CAUTIONARY TALE more than anything else.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that isn't true about the vikings in the Vikings show. You're clearly rooting for them, so I have to assume that you don't view these characters and the culture they're representing as a cautionary tale about what NOT to do or be like. And that's fine, that show is clearly doing something very different with its story and the themes and messages it's sending than Lucas was doing with Star Wars. And I think shows like The Mandalorian are trying to do something similar by making their sort-of violently morally ambiguous character and his culture something you root for rather than a cautionary tale. Which... fine, in the vacuum of the story we had within the first two seasons of the show, that worked out okay. But as it's expanded outward into the greater Star Wars saga, this has become more and more of an issue because the Mandos AREN'T characters you root for in regular Star Wars. They just aren't, especially the variety that Din and Bo-Katan tend to represent. They're usually villains or antagonists for the more genuinely heroic characters, there to either be an obstacle or to represent the consequence of selfish choices. But Filoni and Favreau are SO insistent on making the Mandos the heroes AND on making them like the Legends Mandos they grew up on that these messages are getting flattened and lost entirely.

So I guess my answer to this question is that no, I don't necessarily think that the Mandos would be more enjoyable if they were more like the vikings, either the real ones or the fictional ones, because they just straight up aren't the heroes of this story and their entire culture as per Lucas's canon, the one based around violence as a first answer to everything, is intended to be a cautionary tale rather than something we root for. I think that the Mando culture as we know it isn't something that can be glorified and romanticized and still feel like it remains within the themes of Star Wars.

#star wars #mandalorian critical #mando critical #mandalorian culture critical #mando culture critical

25 notes · View notes