#din's not force sensitive though so how would that work

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 5

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: So... it's after you and Din talk...

tags: Angst, slight dub-con (I never know bc I would always fuck Din?), being mad as fuck at Din, how could he?, Din/Mando being a dumb stupid idiot, reader also being a dumb stupid idiot. Idiots in LOVE, mutual pining, then normal smut things (without spoilers to the chapter, sorry) SPOILERS TO The Book of Boba Fett and The Mandalorian.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN.

a/n pt2: I don't know shit about Star Wars/ The Mandalorian. I did however spend an un-Makerly amount of time learning for all of us. If you're not well versed in the lore or the history of Star Wars/ The Mandalorian-- that's okay! This is Star Wars/ Mando for Beginners. (Also stating this as a warning for anyone well versed in the universe and the lore-- shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. DON'T COME FOR ME)

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The Jedi Code was taught to you. Engraved in your mind.

Harmony, serenity, peace and knowledge. The force. The lightside.

All the bad things; chaos, emotion, passion, ignorance, death.

The darkside. You learned to not fear the darkside, but instead to embrace the force.

Even though you didn’t have the maker forsaken force inside of you! Not even a litte bit! None of 'the force' had found its way into you!

Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano trained you as if you did!

Why!?

They spent so much time building you from the ground up! They made sure you had muscles and could run for long distances. The pair trained you how to fight with your hands!

Your hands know how to use a lightsaber! That's not an easy feat, and it takes a long time to learn that skill.

Oh, how long? A really long time!

Two years!

Two long years without any sign of that man in the tin can outfit! He's never called, he's never come to visit!

Two. Fucking. Years.

Sometimes you hated Din for leaving you here but you very quickly remember that you asked for this. 

Wanted this more than anything.

Foolish!

You wanted so badly to make sure the child was cared for; the child was older than you are!

Much, much older! Not even a baby at all, but a toddler where he comes from. A very special toddler. A force sensitive toddler.

Coming here was a mistake! The only thing you do here is clean up the messes Grogu- that's the child's Maker forsaken name. He has a name!

Grogu makes messes, so you clean them, and get hit with sticks as some sick and twisted form of 'training'! It feels like a joke when they told you to 'block your face and important organs' and then started to pummel you with the hardest, most fast moving sticks you've ever seen!

Not having any amount of the force inside of you really makes training with Jedi's incredibly difficult! Grogu seemed to be having a blast training with Skywalker.

They trained differently, so unfortunately the two of you didn't see each other much, and when you did, your time with him was cut short.

The two of you grew up here a little, together while separated.

Luke and Ahsoka claimed that you babied him and it would impeed his training, so they kept you apart as much as they seemed humane. You became so very depressed without the child and Din.

All alone even though you were surrounded by so many people.

The nights that you got to spend with Grogu were usually spent laying under the stars outside the Jedi temple, speaking fondly of Din.

Mostly for the child's sake, because you only wonder if he had completely forgotten about you.

The answer to that question came when Luke came to Grogu with a gift. 

“A gift?” You say with a curled lip.

Have you not just spent all of your time here; learning the way of the Jedi? That was an attachment and you– in your two years becoming a mock Jedi– were weary. The darkside. The emotion. The attachments.

This was scary.

Luke held the gift in his hands while he spoke. You're subtlety looking for your gift but... you don't see one. Only one parcel.

Oh.

“This gift would be the end of both of your Jedi training, should he keep it. Attachments may not be had, by anyone.” Luke looks between the both of you as you stand before him.

Why is he looking at you!? You might stay at this temple and learn all the ways of the Jedi and become the most powerful non-force sensitive Jedi the galaxy has ever seen!

“You both have come so far, you have so much potential. Both of you.” Luke’s eyes fall on you. “I’ve been surprised before, but this was a pleasant one. Watching you both learn so much. I hope he both makes the choice that’s best for you.” Luke looks to Grogu and hands him the package wrapped in brown paper.

“Why couldn’t I stay if he wanted to leave?” You ask Luke. 

“You come with the child. You leave with the child.” Luke explains simply. 

Maker-- alright. You can’t argue with that. You don't have much to offer besides cleaning up the kid's messes. They're probably tired of watching you perfect the lightsaber.

You're actually pretty good.

Grogu glances up at you just as you look down at him. You kneel on one knee so you can be closer to him, and watch as his six little clawed fingers struggle with the twine wrapped around it, but he uses the Force.

“Cheater.” You whisper to him.

The gift is beskar. A piece of... Mandlaorian armor for Grogu. 

“ Mando said he can’t put it on until he sees you–” 

“M-Mando’s here?” You interrupt accidentally. Your heart begins to pound in your chest at the thought that you might actually be able to see him right now.

Luke gives you a knowing look, as if you should know better, and shakes his head from side to side.

“Ahsoka sent him away. It would interfere with your training. If you wish to stay here and train, continue to learn the Jedi way. You both have come far, but it’s nowhere near close to done. Accepting this would end that training.”

It’s a warning.

The energy in the room is so intense. You can feel electricity in the air almost. Grogu is still standing beside you, looking down at his own piece of beskar.

What’s he going to do?

Luke reaches into his robe.

Everyone here has all these hidden pockets for things in their clothes. You have a couple hidden pockets now too . For things you may need to hide and pull out in moments just like this one day. You hope. It’s so cool when they do that.

Luke hands Grogu a lightsaber. Grogu’s own lightsaber. 

“You have a choice, young padawan.” His gravelly voice rakes across your brain. 

It's so quiet for so long. 

Grogu touches the lightsaber softly. Admiring it. He did the same thing with the armor. 

So long you waited. Understandably, this was a hard choice.

Grogo picks the armor.

Grogu and yourself are on a ship to a hangar where Din is waiting for a response. Your knees are complete mudslides right now. They are not supporting you and they have two years of Jedi training behind them. They’re strong. 

The nerves got to them, though--ate away all the tendons you ever had and dissolved the muscle down to nothing.

Din had been on your mind every single day for two years, and he didn't even ask if YOU wanted to come back. Only Grogu! You feel like a fool sitting next to the tiny green toddler.

Where are you supposed to go when Din tells you that he doesn't need your services anymore!?

The ramp of the ship drops down and there is a cloud of dust. And then there he is. Standing at the base of the ramp, like he had been waiting for you two. Or apparently just Grogu. Since he’s the one who got the gift.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No attachments. Perfect. You’re basically a Jedi. 

Grogu, who is so much faster, so, so much faster than you ever remember him being, flings himself at Din, and attaches himself around his neck.

You watch in amusement, wishing you could do the same thing but you’re partially a Jedi now, so you keep your composure and walk down the ramp slowly. Your mouth is so dry, you don't even attempt to swallow because you know it'll just end in you choking.

Din hugs the child tightly. Their embrace is so sweet. So kind. It makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

It makes your heart pang as well.

They hug for a long time before Grogu looks back at you, pulling away from Din’s neck. Grogu extends a curved hand to you. You suddenly feel a gentle pressure around your waist, and are being dragged forward, against your will, feet stumbling beneath you. 

You point your finger at Grogu. “Hey!” You shout. The pressure around your waist stops and you’re set back down on your feet carefully. “I told you to knock that off!"

This is Grogu’s new, fun game. Picking you up and putting you where he wants you. He hasn’t stopped doing it since he learned how.

Dropped you a couple times in the beginning. 

Din chuckles from under the helmet. “I see your relationship has changed quite a bit.” His flat rasp is the same as you remember it.  "He's the one carrying you around now,"

“It’s basically still the same. I have to yell at him for doing things he shouldn’t.” You scowl at Grogu, who hides himself behind Din's helmet.

“It’s nice to see you," Din's modulated voice is even and quiet. As if he doesn't want to say it at all.

That’s it. No hug. Nothing. Not even a handshake.

You could hit him. For several seconds you think about doing it.

Now your fist– with two years of Jedi training– and it might actually hurt him. It might hurt him a lot, and you’d feel good about it. So good.

"It's nice to see you, too."

The anger is pumping in your veins as he leads you through the hanger behind him. You look at all the ships, and look for the Crest but you don’t see it anywhere. Eventually Din stops in front of a ship much larger than the Crest. Bigger guns on it too. 

Din just stands there and looks at you with his stupid helmet shining in the bright light of the hangar. You don’t know what to do. He dropped you off on Ossus where the Jedi temple was, and didn't give you a hug. Not a pat on the shoulders. Literally nothing.

"Keep the kid out of trouble. You'll hear from me soon."

That's all Din had said before he and Grogu went to say their goodbyes!

"It's a new ship." Din points to the giant hunk of metal he’s standing in front of. His beskar looks exactly the same. Maybe a new scrape or two. A ding here or there but you’re not even looking. Not even paying attention to him. Trying not to. 

“Okay...” You resort to using your favorite word.

Why, Maker? Why can’t the man in the helmet speak? Is his helmet on mute? Always so fucking quiet. Until you don’t want him to be, then he won’t shut up.

Din leads you inside. Shows you the sleeping quarters. There are two beds. One for each of you.

There is a separate room for the child.

The dining room is nice and everything else is so nice. So much nicer than the Razor Crest. Even the cockpit you have no idea how to use. 

You look all around the hull like it's very interesting. This is so awkward. Not what you expected when you were on your way here. It's not like you expected a welcome back party. Maybe a hug. Something. 

"What happened to the Crest?" You ask, trying to avoid looking at him.

"It was destroyed."

The sleeping quarters are different from the Razor Crest. The beds are close together, but separated and welded to the floor so there is no way to move them closer together.

The mats that are nestled into the metal frames are thicker and much more plush than the one you had slept on for so long before you were banished away to the Jedi temple.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No emotion. No attachments. It’s all fine. 

The small bag that holds your very few belongings stays packed in case he doesn't plan on you staying very long. He could very well be headed right back to Cantonica to drop you back off at the Canto Bight Casino!

The three of you eat dinner in silence.

Din says not one word to you and you don't try and strike up the conversations like you used to. Things feel so different now, like the two of you are complete strangers all over again.

Grogu has changed in ways that are hard to describe. He's still a baby in your eyes even though he's older than you and Din.

The two of you play together on the floor while Din or maybe you should call him Mando again, since you barely know this man after two whole years, does something in the cockpit.

Grogu warbles and you watch all the new, fun things he can do with the Force that aren’t moving you unwillingly. It's the first real fun the two of you are able to have since being dropped off at the temple. You missed being able to play with him. You still snuggle him at the protests of Luke and Ahsoka-- how could you not when he climbs into your lap and cuddles into your arms.

Like he knew you couldn’t resist. 

Grogu can put himself to sleep now which is incredible, and that means you have time to do whatever you want.

So you’re in your bed with your nice new sheets. They’re soft. Like the ones on the Crest.

It’s dark here, too.

Maker, what in the stars?

The sun shields in this ship are no joke! There's no light at all. If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s just blind wishing that you don’t break you toes, or bump into a wall and potentially crack your skull. 

It feels like you were completely forgotten about in those two years and now, in the dark silence of your shared sleeping quarters you just want to cry...

An emotion!? After two years of strict Jedi code training---

There is a ten thousand degree warmth on your upper arm in the void, and it scares you half out of the bed. Your tops of your feet and knees are on the cool metal of the ships floor, and you're leaning against the side of the bed-frame like you are praying to Maker.

“I was going to see if you were sleeping," Din's rasping sounds-- happy to talk to you?

You're unsure. Nothing else about the way he's spoken to you, or treated you at all makes you think he wants to talk to you.

"That's not how you find out if someone's asleep!" You bark at him angrily.

"You're awake though.” A flat, unimpressed response to your outburst.

Maker, if you had your own helmet with night vision, you’d use all your new fun Jedi fighting tricks on him. You sure would, because who is he!? Who does he think he is!?

After two years he can come back and just throttle you awake in the dark like before? Nope. Not this time. 

“You’re lucky I can’t see you right now.” You say over the pounding heart in your chest. “So lucky-- What do you care if I'm awake in the night?! Let me sleep!” You’re so cold with him, mirroring him perfectly minus the emotion. “I’m tired.” You lie to him. 

In the usual Din fashion, he remains quiet. He still had his hand on your arm, and it's not like you really made an attempt to pull it away because it’s hot like you remember.. Burning you, he's so warm.

Din is also so fucking quiet! Maker! Is he okay?

“Tired?” Din’s voice rasps in the dark. "Then why aren't you sleeping?"

You realize the metal man has no grip on you whatsoever. He was just touching you very, very gently, and you easily could have pulled away at any moment.

So you you tug your arm away and you climb back into bed and face the opposite direction from him. "I was trying to sleep when you come over here-- shaking me in the darkness!"

“You…” Din trails off in the dark. “Still don't know the meaning of shake?” He questions you like a dumb idiot. 

"Get away from me!" You almost shout it. "Just leave me alone!" You humph, and pull the sheets over your shoulder.

"Are you... mad at me?"

“Are you kidding me!?” You whisper at him. “I don’t know how you could leave me out there for two years, and I get nothing!?” You sit up in your bed now and talk blindly in the dark. “Nothing. No visit. No calls. Nothing.” You cross your arms over your chest. "No gift!"

Din stays silent- which was predicted- so you carry on.

“But you get Grogu a gift, which was very sweet. Very cute armor, he is going to look very cute it in.” You think of the child dressed in the armor and it's kind of amusing and slightly distracting.

“Are you done?” Din’s stupid modulated voice rings out in the dark after a minute of you imagining an armored Grogu.

It's so dark and you still don't really know where he is, so with your accusing index finger pointing in the direction he could be in, you almost shout, “No! I’m not done!”

You are in fact, not done.

“They treated me like I had the Force in me. Do you know how hard that is when you don’t have the fucking force in you!?” You exclaim in exasperation, still pointing at him.

You start to speak again into the blinding darkness when a warm hand very gingerly moves your accusatory pointing finger eight inches to your right. 

“I figured I should at least be getting pointed at, if you’re going scold me,” Din rasps.

You die inside and wonder how dumb you look in the dark. “Why did you even bring me back? Hm? Why not just send me right back to the casino? Or is that where we’re going next? Gonna just drop me off? You even gonna land first or just let me duck and roll?” You huff, officially done with your rant. 

“Are you don-” Din starts, but you cut him off. 

“Yes!" You snap at him, and then you huff one more time for good measure. You're so angry with him.

So much for all your Jedi no emotion training. 

“I have a gift for you.” Din says flatly through the modulator. 

Oh.

“Well it’s so dark in here, so how would I know that?” You snip at him, not sure you’re fully ready to forgive him. You roll your eyes now. 

“Would you still like it? Or are you too upset with me?” Din’s modulated rasp asks you, sounding annoyed.

Why does he have a right to be annoyed? He could have given you that gift the minute you step foot of that return ship that brought you back to him.

Why wait until the darkness!? Why!?

“Yes, I would.” You hold your cupped hand out into the dark and feel something cold and hard fall into it. “It would be nice if I could –” 

The brightest beam of light you’ve ever encountered shines directly into your eyes. It’s blinding.

You jump again, out of bed because what the fuck is that!?

Is this an attack!?

What even is that light? Where is it coming from?

Thankfully, you wrapped your hand around the thing Din dropped into your hand so you didn't fling it into the abyss to never be seen again before you ever even got to look at it!

“Why are you on the floor?” Din asks, as you hold your free hand to your chest. You blink up at him, having to shield your eyes. 

“Are you the light right now!?” You question him squinting your eyes in its brightness. "Are you the one blinding me!?"

“Yes." Din dims the light tremendously somehow from within his helmet and now, it’s easier on the eyes. Like a candle flame. "Was it to bright?"

“It was too bright! I don’t think I’ll ever see again.” You snip softly, resting on the floor and putting your elbows on the bed. 

You inspect the small pink crystal in your hand. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what it is.

“Is this a kyber crystal?” You look up at Din who is knelt down on the other side of your bed.

He nods in the now pale light that's much easier on the eyes. “I got it on my travels. I thought that if you knew how to use a lightsaber, I’d get one for you. Put this crystal in it.” 

Maker. What is happening? 

“You thought of me?” You didn’t mean to say it. Part of you is still mad. 

“Everyday .” Din’s awe and amazement voice is back. “Di- Did you not think about me?” Just as quickly as that sweet familiar tone had shown up, it's gone just as fast. Din can' believe that you didn't think of him during your time apart.

“I did.” You say quietly. “I thought you had forgotten me. Without the visits or calls or gift.” You do feel silly now because this really is a sweet gift.

The sweetest gift. More sweet than the notebook and the credits and anything else he's ever given you. The small pink crystal in your hand means so much to you. The fact that he got it for you, was thinking about you while you were gone. The fact that the meaning behind the gift is so big. You own lightsaber if you wanted one. Din would get one for you. Said it himself. Your heart is racing in your chest.

“Never . I’ve been waiting to see you. Been thinking of you. Looking at your doodles every night.” He turns the light off and takes the crystal from your still outstretched hand. 

“Hey! That’s mine.” You reach for it but he leaves you kneeling next to your bed like you are praying to Maker in the dark again.

“I’m going to give it back.” Din raps . “Do you want to get back in bed or are you content on the floor?” 

You’re blinking into the dark. Wondering how dumb you look now on the floor blinking into the void. You scramble up without assistance and crawl into bed, facing the same direction as before. Away from Din. 

Secretly, you’re hoping he’s sans beskar and crawls into bed beside you and lets you hold him like he did the nights before you left. With your arm around his waist, stealing his radiating heat from him while he sleeps. You’d mill kisses softly across his shoulders and you’d listen to him sigh and make sleep sounds in the darkness.

But that doesn’t happen. It’s so quiet. It’s so still for so long. You wonder if he’s crawled in his own bed and is fast asleep. What could this all mean? The gift? The cold welcome back after two years? Everything you did before you left? What did it mean and did you accidentally fall for a potential half man- half droid that’s never going to show you his face? 

The dark is still, so quiet and unmoving. You feel like you’re alone in the room. 

“C-can I touch? Or are you still too upset with me?” Din asks quietly, the rasp of his modulator is gone. His sweet deep voice is right in your ear. It doesn’t startle you because you’ve been waiting to hear him speak for so long. 

“No.” You snap. “You couldn’t come touch me for two years! I would have let you then, any time you came to visit, I would have but you-”

His lips on yours stop you. You almost try and push him off, but Maker. I

t feels so good. His warm, soft lips on yours after all this time. You both open your mouths slightly, and as tentatively as Din touched you for the first time two years ago, his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth just as slowly.

It’s gone as soon as it appeared. 

“I tried.” He whispers against your open mouth. “I got turned away every time. So many times I tried to see you.” He’s speaking fast, like he’s trying to explain himself to you before you beat him off of you with something hard you’ve found in the dark. “ So many times, little one." 

The words melt over your tongue as he speaks them, almost as if they were your words.

Ahsoka and Luke never told you he came to visit. Not one time. 

“I tried. I never forgot about you. Too perfect. Too beautiful to forget..." ” His bare hands cup your face as you speak. “Never forget you. Everyday I look at your doodles. I look at you, and miss you."

You're breathing in the words he's speaking into your parted lip. He kisses you again softly. You feel the bed shift next to you and he’s crawling beside you.

“Do you dislike me again?”

Maker, Din somehow got warmer. He’s running a fever all the time and his body feels like the embers in the fire pit at the end of the night. 

“Again?” You whisper as he pulls your face down to the pillows with his. 

“You didn’t care for me much before the doodles.” Din kisses your lips again, gently as his hand slips from your cheek. “I didn’t think you’d let me.” You can feel his warm breath on your chin as he speaks. 

“Let you what?” 

“Touch. Watch. The first time.” His real unmodulated voice whispers to you. “I've missed touching. Watching."

A warmth hovers over your middle, you reach for it. Tt’s Din’s hand, hovering above your stomach, under the blankets, but over your clothes. 

“Touch me.” It almost doesn’t come out of your mouth because it’s so dry. But you croak it out and swallow hard as the word leaves your lips because you hope he does. You hope this isn't like the first night all over again where he makes you do it alone.

Din obliges and lets his hand drop, you feel the heat spreading out along your nightgown starting from where his hand rests on your lower stomach. It makes you inhale sharply. It’s such a familiar touch and you missed it so much. 

Din sighs and drags his hands gently and slowly up your stomach, the fabric bunching at his wrist as he does it.

He's lifting your nightgown. 

“Din,” You whisper as his palm cups one of your fleshy tits over the nightgown.

His rough, calloused hands were so gently, touching you so sweetly until your hand rests on his, you make him squeeze you. You make him because you need to know this is real and these soft gentle touches feel like a dream.

Din grips you now. He can feel your desperation in your hand on his. Squeezing and pulling and tugging at your flesh. 

“Fuck.” He moans softly into your shoulder where his head was resting. The fiery goodness from his forehead felt like it was melting you. “Perfect. Beautiful.” He says the word like he doesn’t want to. Like he’s been forcing them back but they’re breaking free from his vocal chords.

You can almost feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s yours.

You don’t know. 

It’s just obvious that this is what you want and you need him. Badly. However he’s willing to give himself to you or however he wants to take you, you don’t care. You’ve been waiting and thinking about this for two years. Your body reacts to his touch like you were built for him. Your pussy is leaking and throbbing already and he’s only touched you once. 

There's a new warmth, a wetness to these sensations now. Din’s wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and is sucking. Biting gently over the nightgown you have on. It sends shivers down your spine.

Words come flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop them. “I've waited so long for this.” You whimper quietly.

Your hips are rolling against the bed below you because everything just feel so good, everything is just so overwhelmingly pleasurable. Din’s hands and mouth on you, the heat he's passing along through his touch. 

“Touch. I wanna hear you moan.” He murmurs against your breast. He’s still biting and sucking it through the fabric like he’s too impatient to take off the nightgown. He just can’t wait any longer. 

“I need you to touch me.” You whine quietly. “Please.” You’re begging him. “Please, Din, I need to fee-” But he doesn’t make you beg long, his free hand slides between your legs and he sighs loudly against you. 

“”Fuck. Fuck. You're s-so wet. So fucking perfect.” Din bites your nipple a little harder now, but then he pulls way. “Let me lick. P-Please. I just wanted to watch but now I need to taste you.” He’s moving down between your legs as he talks to you. Then he stops.

“Okay. Okay. Please. Do it, please.” You’re already spreading your legs but he’s getting off the bed again. “Nononononono.” You whine, reaching blindly for him in the dark. You’re on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

It’s so quiet. It’s like time stopped. 

“Din?” You whisper. “Did you leave?” 

“Where would I go?” He answers but he’s further away from you now. "It's my ship."

“Well you’re obviously not here– where you were!” You exclaim quietly. You hear him chuckle in the dark. 

“Come to my bed. I want to do something. New.” 

Oh Maker what could that mean? A new stun gun? Some weird thing he found in his travels?

Does he want to make you the lightsaber and put the focus crystal inside you? That’s where you draw the line.

“What does that mean?” You ask nervously, clutching the sheets to your chest as you stare into the void. “New?” 

“Come here. You said I could lick, yes? Let me.” Din’s voice in the dark makes you drop the blankets your clutching and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. “Come, little one. Let me lick you. Let me taste you.” His voice guides you to him and you start to crawl into his bed but he stops you. “Leg.” He says into the dark.

“Leg?” You ask, confused. Din reaches for you in the dark and taps your upper thigh. 

“Leg.” He says like he’s teaching you body parts. “Swing it up here over my head.” 

“What!?” You exclaim. “You want me to do what?!” 

“I want you to sit on my face.” Din’s smiling in the dark and you can hear it in his voice. 

“And you’re going to taste me like that?” You’re exasperated. You’ve never even heard of this. What does that mean, sit on his face. “I’m going to smother you!” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man. Get up here.” Now he’s impatient. Din’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

You swing one leg over his head and straddle him, pressing both hands to the wall in front of you. The ship's metal is so cold on your clammy hands. You can feel him breathing against your inner thighs as you sit on your knees above him.

“ This is perfect.” Din whispers. You can only whimper quietly because you’re so nervous, you feel so exposed up here. “You want me to lick…” He leans up and gives the very top of your slit a quick teasing lick. “Here? Yes?” 

Your knees buckle because Din’s tongue is just as soft and just as warm as you remember and you do want him to lick there. You can’t find words for how badly you want him. All you can do is let out a breathy sound of consent. 

“Beautiful.” Din wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth, his tongue is ready. Eager. Waiting for you to be on him, for him to be inside your folds. “Just as I remember.” He whispers into your pussy, tasting that flavor he memorized before you left and thought of it often. “I touched myself, thinking of you. To your doodles. To your flavor.” Din takes the flat of his tongue and licks you from your opening all the way to your clit, slowly, he presses up against you so you feel him. 

He wants you to know he missed you. 

“ Maker, yes. ” It’s moaned softly as Din presses the flat of his tongue against your slit and lets you ride his mouth. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. Why were you so scared? Being on top of him, this way, you were in control up here. “ Oh Din, yes.” You’re not holding back tonight. 

You’ve been waiting to do this. Dreaming about it at night and waking up in the morning having to give yourself some sort of pleasure. You slide one hand down into his thick, coarse hair, just enjoying the feeling of it between your fingers again. You hear Din moan from between your legs and his tongue moves against you faster. 

Your fingers tighten in Din’s hair as he holds you around the legs, you’re pinned down onto him. His tongue is lapping and exploring your folds. Licking at all the spots he remembers make you squirm. He memorized every inch of you before he left and he’s been thinking about you, keeping it fresh in his head for this moment so he can make you whimper and quiver like he used to.

Din is panting underneath you, he’s working for what you’re about to give him. His tongue was drifting between those big lazy circles that had you whimpering and begging him for more and tight fast spinning around your clit. That’s when his hands found your hips and started to move you on his face, his tongue flat, stroking your clit with each movement of your hips. 

“Please don’t stop.” Pushing yourself off the wall you’ve been leaning against, you hover over him now, rocking your hips on your own. You found a rhythm with Din’s help. He holds your hips tighter now–not messing with the rocking of your hips–feeling you roll yourself along his mouth. As he does that he pulls you down harder on his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair and you grip it tightly now in both fists and grind down against his flat, strong muscle. “ Oh fuck yes . Din, I’m so close.” You’re whimpering for him.

Din moans loudly from underneath you, his hands now moving to your ass. He gropes and spreads your cheeks. 

“M-moan again.” You stutter, your hips grinding harder and faster. The vibrations from Din’s moans will be enough. 

Din obliges happily and moans loudly again, over and over as your head falls back, hips never stopping their rocking motion on his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck–ing yes. Din, oh Maker!” You cry out. You don’t care if The Razor Crest is gone, you have those memories inside your head forever. You don’t have to hold back nearly as much here. You can let him know how fucking good he makes you feel. Your body is quivering as you grind against him. You can feel the prickles of his facial hair on your inner thighs and lips as you ride him.

Being on Din’s face like this was heaven. You can hear him noisily licking and sucking at the new wave of juices that are dripping from your entrance. As the warm ball of fiery goodness spreads through you, you start to shudder and tremble on top of him, his tongue never stops moving against your clit and then dipping inside of your hole to taste you as you leak out. Din laps at you until there’s nothing left. Sucking your lips into his mouth at the end to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He leaves you trembling above him for so long he has to tap your thigh again for you to swing It over his head. 

"Sorry." You pant. "That was good. I'd do that again." You go to stand off his bed and you feel him wrap his arms around your waist. 

"Don't go. Share the bed." He whispers up to you. "I waited for so long." 

"I waited too!" You exclaim as all of your anger and fear of being forgotten about returns. "I waited for just as long as you did! You sure didn't act like you missed me or waited for me. Not until the lights went off at least." You're storming to your own bed now. You move quickly, not wanting him to hear or see the tears in your eyes.

You've been keeping this in for a long time. Letting it bottle up until you can't keep it in anymore. And the fact that he confessed all those nice things just to be able to touch you.

Din doesn't say anything in the dark, letting you try and find you way back in the void. It makes you sadder that he isn't trying to comfort you. The tears come, quietly, thank Maker, as you get into your own bed and wrap yourself in the covers. It isn't until you let out a little weeping sound that you hear him shuffle and then your bed shifts under his weight. Din's pressing himself into you gently, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

"If you had reached for me, you could have felt my heart from under my beskar." He whispers in your ear. "I did miss you. I did wait for you." A small kiss along your jaw, "You didn't seem like you were happy to see me today." He sounds disappointed. "I thought you had forgotten about me. Maybe someone with a face and who didn't leave made you forget about me." Another small kiss in the same place. "I sat in the dark for so long, wondering if you were thinking of me. I had to come find out. I did't mean to scare you. Don't cry, little one. Please?" He's kissing your face gently. 

"I don't think anyone could ever make me forget about you." You whisper into the void.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

[dinthehottotty]

Untitled Drabble 1 (D.D.)

A/N: It's been like 3 years since I really wrote and I'm trying to get back into. So enjoy one of my 54 drafts I never published.

Warnings: Force Sensitive Reader x Din Djarin, unedited, angst, light smut, the helmet stays on. Breeding kink.

Din struck you from the moment you met him all those years ago. Back when you were both too young and too stupid. When Zi'an and his disgusting scoreboard of kills was the most of his problems and yours trying to figure out if you were actually hearing other people's thoughts or if you were crazy. A freshly enlisted New Republic Private that was too meek to be the hero and Galaxie's Baddest Boy with a chip on his not-droid shoulder. The peachfuzz on his lip starting to darken when you started getting called pretty.

A popular senator's daughter tired of cracking under the five-star resturant's happy glows despite suffering families that wander on the ground down below. When Mommy had used her codependency on you because she had no real friends. When she'd hold you in bed, stroked your hair and whisper in your ear that she wished that she could be there more to watch you grow. Then a narcissistic bug would bite her when you finally 'fell asleep' in her arms as she rectified herself with changing the world for you.

But kids don't understand that. Kids just want their moms to love them and protect them. They want the gooey support of kisses and awkward dance recitals. In your 'cute' years - the years ranging from baby face to strapped in a new flightsuit - you'd dream about those whispers like she cradled you in jailing arms and laughed until her head fell off. It would roll around, eyes rolling back as her smile twitches. You'd wake up and sob into coughing fits.

Because you realized something was wrong with you. The base was so loud the first formation you fainted despite the 'silence'. Voices shriek and sigh and crackled around. It was a lot to get used to. You were good with a vibroblade too. Quick enough and quiet enough to sneak up on an imp.

More realistically, your days were filled with reporting on nothing all day and drinking too much at the local bar because people's heads were fucked up. Because the empire was gone now you had to rebuild. Some people oozed with slimy thoughts. Violent little dreams delicately weaving innocent people into fucked up ghosts haunting folks. You were getting ballsy as you figured out you wanted to be ambitious and powerful like your mother. Because you'd simply decided you were going to live off spite.

And then you felt ice. The bite of electric claws running by your spine. Because he commanded attention. He was a void, eating everything up with his rage and pain. He was trained to kill and he had anger and resentment building. He was like jumping into space. A dazzle of burning suns drowning in the black waters of his beautifully dark mind. Because despite his rage he had this ridged respect of life. Sadness cooling him deeply.

You'd gone into the phase where you stopped wearing makeup and cut your hair short and now 'pretty girl' became 'boy'. And he didn't look at you right away. Being in a blaster battle in a bazaar with a local gang. They had a mandalorian. And you came out of it alive after chasing him down alley.

You could feel the burn of air getting knocked out you when he body slammed you into wall. When he tried to knee you in the balls you laughed and gave you the upper hand to take him down.

It didn't work though. He'd had infinitely more hand to hand combat experience and easily pinned you against the wall again. Then demanding you meet him back there tonight if you wanted inside information. Which you did.

And after the long week of planning out how you'd arrest Xian. It would give him guild rites and you could promote. Only he stuck around for a week longer because the ship he'd bought needed breif repairs in order to even get it off the ground.

He liked you. You could feel that, despite the ripple of his uncertain inner storms. And then you'd come back to your bunk to find him there, nervous and instead of his waves battering against you, it was calling for you, whirlpooling you in. You were drowning in the black ocean of his mind.

He needed to touch you. Attracted to your smile and free laughter. Drawn into your haunted expressions and shared sorrow. You drink it all up, sinking into the desperation clawing inside him. Something to fill him for a little while. Someone to comfort him and make him weightless.

So you stripped off your flight suit and he pulled off his gloves and touched. Everywhere. His raspy voice wrecked with his vocoder as he verbalized his desire to kiss you everywhere. Since he couldn't, he'd just touch. His hands were smooth from the gloves, hot and big. He touched you like he was sculpting his muse. Painting you in his mind, swirling in his midnight blue desolation. Painted in Din's mind like you were dawn warming him.

It was more romantic than it had any right being as his fingers kiss your labia, one thick digit curling inside the tight heat of your cunt. He was quick to explore it with you on your back, his other hand exploring your mouth in a similar fashion. You were left in a couple puddles, alone in your bunk, trembling. Your chin and thighs cooling with your drool, slickly leaking over your skin.

And you both grew up. Bumping into each other occasionally when he needed some information on a bounty and you were quick to name your price. Seeking comfort in the soft edges of flesh. He'd map your body with his hands or mouth - if you were blind from him - like it was religious. It made you shiver and quake under him. Everything, like he had to commit to replicating you.

Conversations not usually needed but would occasionally sink into these little secrets you hadn't told anyone else before. Like you mind abilities. He actually really liked after a while. Liked being able to truly express his feelings without words. He had a way of molding you like putty. The two guys before this dull and unexciting to the prayers his hands preformed on your body.

And then he'd gone off grid. Busy two years before emerging to you on some little speeder. But he'd had the kid now. And you much older. Much less cute. Definitely settled and nurturing. Which led to this.

"Fucking Maker!" You cry at the mattress when he slams you on it. Then your scrambling up the pillows with a squeal. Din's hot hands are tightening around you kicking ankles and jerking you effortlessly down your bed on your own ship. You were docked in Tatooine, happy to pay Peli rediculous prices for just a few hours of time alone.

"Running won't stop me." You're dragged until your feet could touch the floor. "I know you." He sighs against your neck. But you feel what he really means. What he's meant for a long time. I love you.

"Wouldn't run from a Mandalorian. That'd be stupid." You tease.. He pins you with his weight.

"What if he means to bred you?" He demands, leaning over you. You go straight dumb for a second. He lifts off you enough to let you roll over to gaze up at his helmet.

You can feel the spinning his words cause. "Really?" You ground yourself by latching into his open mind. The ever vast void of his mind sucking you in like a worm hole. It's a primal need that sinks into his belly. Something deep and brutal.

He holds you in this divine light of stardust. Like he was just a man who fell in love with all of the stars, never done climbing to reach and admire. He would snuff out every other light in the universe - anything polluting your space just to watch you shine.

"Yes. Can I put a baby in you?"

"Are you ready for that? To settle down and raise another kid?" His soul thrills and vibrates at 'another'. He gives a shaky breath as he buzzes with it. He fixates on it hard.

Many. He wants many children.

"Honey, your fixating on the wrong details," you hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down on top of your body. He chuckles over you.

"I'll give you everything. No more bounties if that's what you want. Just us." That us carries double meaning. Not just the two or three of you. As many babies as you wanted with him. He would give it to you all of the time.

He was ready.

"Okay," you hum. "Let's have a baby." Din sighs in delight. Not so much relief but in satisfaction. Like you'd granted him a miracle.

The moment so tender with the heavy edges of his mind suffocating you that you don't expect him lifting off you and using a vibro blade to cut the front of your pants wide open. You gasp when he nearly yanks you upright by the front of them and simply slices through the front.

"Din!" You begin, "I liked those!"

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 9: Boots

Word Count: 2009 Rating: General Summary: Raising a Force-sensitive child is not an easy task, especially one as mischievous as Grogu. When the little guy decides to play a game of hide and seek without telling you and Din first, you find him in a place that you would never have expected. Content Warnings: Panic of temporarily losing a child is explored. Author's Note: I just love the mental image of Din being a Stressed Out Dad. I know Grogu is driving him crazy in that cabin!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

Having a Force-sensitive child toddling around, especially one so powerful as Grogu, frequently made for some amusing and unconventional parenting situations. How could one discipline a child who could run rings around his caregivers with his mind? To most people. Grogu probably appeared to be helpless, but you and Din knew all too well that was not the case. The little green child had been known to steal extra portions off yours and Din’s plates at mealtimes to test your patience, apparently just because he felt like it, despite Din always reminding him to mind his manners and be respectful of others. Locking away sweet treats and cookies did not work either, as it would for other children: Grogu was able to pick any lock or bypass any door.

For the most part, you and Din let him be. He had an adorable disposition and you were happy to spoil Grogu and indulge his cheekiness. Despite how innocent he looked, you both knew he had seen far more horror in his lifetime than one of his size should have done. You could tell that not being able to communicate with Grogu in a traditional sense, with words, was something that Din struggled with. You were always there to reassure Din that he was the best possible father Grogu could have, whenever his insecurities reared their ugly head. Even though the two had never had a conversation, they had their own way of communicating and understanding each other. Din and Grogu's bond was very special and it was a true honour that you were able to observe how deeply their love ran for each other. 

With all of that in mind, you were not unduly concerned when you and Din had woken up from an impromptu nap that the two of you had taken to discover that Grogu was not where you had last seen him: playing with his toys on the rug beside the couch you had both drifted off on, cuddled up to each other. Din had only returned from his latest assignment with the New Republic in the early hours of the morning, so a nap had proved an incredibly tempting prospect. Plus, you found that you always slept better when you had your favourite Mandalorian to cuddle. 

It was your other favourite Mandalorian, though, who was the current cause of your anguish. You and Din knew that Grogu could not have gotten far because he only had little legs, after all. Plus, R5 was stationed at the perimeter of the cabin, ready to alert Din of any intruders, thanks to a connection to his vambrace. You tried not to panic as you untangled yourself from Din and climbed off the couch, ready to find out where Grogu had gotten to. But your heart was already beginning to race when you could not catch sight of him anywhere. Plus, there was the fact that you felt guilty that you had suggested you and Din lie down to begin with.

The most likely outcome was that Grogu had toddled down the hallway to his room and snuggled up in his crib, for a nap all of his own. But as Din searched the kitchen and you walked the short distance down the hallway to Grogu’s room, you felt the bile rising in your throat as you discovered that he was nowhere to be seen.

“Did you find him?” Din called from the kitchen, you noted how even Din’s voice sounded and your heart ached as you realised that this was not going to have the quick solution that you wanted so desperately to be able to give him.

“No!” You replied, bracing yourself to project calmness as you heard Din’s footsteps thundering down the hallway towards the room. 

“Dank farrik!” Din muttered harshly, lifting up a few blankets and clothes that were littered on the floor of Grogu’s room, just to check that the errant child was not hiding under one of them. But, alas, it was another fruitless search. Din let out a heavy sigh and you felt terrible when you saw the way his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Before you could move to comfort Din, though, he promptly turned on his heel and walked the short distance across the hallway to the room you two shared and began searching there. You crept through the door timidly and watched as Din lifted the blankets on your cot to search underneath. You noticed how his movements were becoming increasingly frantic and the pang of guilt you felt threatened to overwhelm you. But you knew you had to remain composed and not panic, so you threw yourself into assisting with the search. 

You yanked open the various cupboards that were fixed to the wall of the room that you shared with Din, but the only sight that greeted you was the familiar sights of your personal items and folded clothes. Every cupboard you opened without seeing the familiar sight of Grogu’s big green ears only compounded your terror, your legs felt as though they were fully shaking now, your blood running cold. Finally, you ran out of places to look. You turned around to face Din and felt your chest ache even more at the sight of him. His brows were knitted together, brown eyes pained with worry.

“Din, I’m so sorry… this is all my fault,” You mumbled, losing your battle to maintain your composure as your lower lip began to wobble and hot tears burnt harsh trails down your warm cheeks.

“Cyare, no,” Din said, his concern for you immediate. He strode across the room, closing the distance between the two of you and grabbed your arms gently above your elbows, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Grogu is the one who wandered off, not you. He’s probably hiding somewhere in the cabin, his idea of a game. It isn’t the first time he’s done this. We’re going to find him, okay?”

“Okay,” You nodded, determinedly. Din’s words had soothed the ache in your chest as you were reminded of the time that you found Grogu hiding in a shelving unit in the kitchen, having Force leapt into there while you and Din had been distracted dishing up a meal that you had spent hours preparing. By the time you had finally sat down to eat, you and Din had been so worn out from the stress of his disappearance, that Grogu had ended up eating your portions too, which you both suspected was his desired outcome. 

“I’ll check all the boxes in the alcove, why don’t you check by the door and just outside the cabin, where we keep our shoes?” Din suggested. You could tell he was trying to stay optimistic but you frowned slightly, doubting that Grogu would be found in either of those places. 

“Alright, I’ll check there,” You agreed, trying to make your voice sound as though it had the optimism that was not matched by your gut. 

“We’ll find him,” Din said again, probably as much for his own benefit as yours.

As you strode towards the front door of the cabin, you thought gratefully once more about how lucky you were to have such a patient and understanding man in your life. Din could so easily have rushed to blame you, even though it wasn’t your fault. Instead, he did his best to reassure you and himself, channelling his energy into finding Grogu rather than finger-pointing and accusations. An attitude like that was certainly a massive help in such an emotionally fraught situation as this.

You checked by the door, lifting the pots and peeking inside them just in case, but to no avail. Your last hope was the little rack you and Din stored your shoes on, just outside the cabin. You dashed through the entryway, feeling the desperation rise. It was then that a noise stopped you in your tracks. You heard an instantly recognisable sound, a little giggle from the mischievous child who had caused you so much anguish. 

“DIN! I FOUND HIM!” You bellowed, almost involuntarily, the sound instantly familiar.

The hint of green peeking out between the brown leather calmed your frayed nerves. The little womp rat had decided the perfect hiding place was in his father’s boots. If you weren't so frazzled by the events of the afternoon, you would have taken a few seconds to appreciate how adorable Grogu looked, nestled in his father's shoe. He was so tiny, a fact you often forgot until you were reminded of it, that he was able to fit inside one of Din’s boots. The brown leather had engulfed his little body entirely, it was a perfect hiding his place. But fortunately, his big green ears were not as easy to squash down and that was what had ultimately given his location away. You breathed a tremendous sigh of relief as you made your way over to where Grogu was, scooping the little boy out of the boot and tutting at him.

“Oh Grogu, please don’t do that again!” You said, voice slightly more hysterical than you intended. The child just stared back at you with wide brown eyes, apparently utterly bemused as to how much he had just worried you and Din. “You gave us such a fright!” You explained, hoping that he understood how terrified you had been.

Before you could speak to Grogu any further, though, Din caught up and promptly grabbed the child from your grasp. He hugged him close, pressing his forehead to Grogu’s bean-shaped head carefully. You knew a stern telling off, with plenty of finger-wagging, probably lay in Grogu’s future. But for now, Din was just allowing the relief to wash over him and feel comforted by holding his son close.

“Where was he?” Din finally turned to you and asked, swallowing thickly as his voice shuddered at the question.

“He was in your boot…” You said, trying to bite back the smile that threatened to creep across your lips and ruin the solemnity of the moment. 

“My boot?” Din repeated, raising an eyebrow and booking at Grogu questioningly. 

“Your boot,” You nodded. “I have no idea why he chose that particular 

“Oh, kid,” Din said, his eyes shut as he chuckled. “I was going to lose it with you but I think being stuck in there, considering how much it must have smelled, was probably punishment enough,” Din let out a belly laugh, amused by his son’s antics. 

“What are we going to do with you, Grogu?” You asked with a sigh as you placed your arm around Din’s waist and gently stroked Grogu’s cheek with your fingertip. You were just relieved that Din had taken this latest prank from his son so well.

"Seriously, I've hiked through muddy swamps in those things!" Din laughed, "I can't believe he would hide in there!"

You just smirked and shook your head at the two of them. You didn't know what you would do with your ridiculous boys, but you loved the pair of them so much. Your chest was filled with a different kind of ache now, a warm one, that you felt whenever you looked at them.

After you and Din had finally stopped giggling at the bemused kid, the three of you made your way back into the cabin and you set about preparing a meal for the three of you. You noticed, as a lump formed in your throat, how tightly Din was holding Grogu as the two of them sat at the counter and watched you potter around the kitchen with their big brown eyes. The time would come when you would have a more serious discussion with Grogu about his behaviour, but for tonight you were just content for the three of you to enjoy each other’s company. Especially considering the two of them had just gotten back from their latest assignment with the New Republic.

And you knew that the next time Grogu went missing, the first place you would check would be Din’s boots.

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 4}

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

Summary: The Mandalorian succumbs to more than one of his instincts regarding recent quarries, a fight to maintain that which he deems worthy of saving ensues.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: mentions of suicidal ideation, canon typical violence, canon typical fighting, guns, gun violence, shooting, injuries, blood

A/N: please excuse any mistakes with the mando'a, i've been using a combination of a translation code and star wars lore to piece together the language. this chapter was a little hard for me to write, it was a heavy one and my weeks have not been great lately. but it's here, i worked through it and i will be out of town for a few days to get some much needed mental space before the semester starts.

thank you so much to everyone for the love and support, and hello to the 70(!!) new followers i've gained recently ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

Watching him leave the space of the Crest and down through the entrance of the city had a foreign feeling settling in your chest. There was a weight to it, something that you hadn’t experienced before. It was akin to panic, your palms sweating and your heartbeat tittering. Your brow was smooth, though you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, some kind of anxiety taking over all of a sudden.

The shine of his newly minted armor in the blue light of dusk was a beautiful sight to behold. The strong form of the Mandalorian backtracking to right a wrong he didn’t have the resolve to stick by, despite everything he had done and every action he had taken up until this point to ensure the completion of his job. His steps were sure, his hands still at his sides, his helmet facing forward. The cape he had allowed you to use as a resting pad billowed with his steps, moving behind him in a mesmerizing show, the rifle strapped down his back holding most of it still, save for the end of it.

Eyes tracked him almost greedily until he was lost in the maze of the buildings that lined the streets. You were usure of how much time had passed since he had disappeared, though the sun had begun to descend toward the horizon.

A beeping started down in the hold, causing you to startle a little. You wracked your brain to figure out what it was without moving to inspect it. It wasn’t your ship after all, you didn’t want to go snooping around and find something you weren’t supposed to. Or, with your luck, end of messing with whatever was making the noise and get injured or blindsided by a trap. Then it clicked. It was the tracking fob he had carried around on Arvala-7.

Climbing down into the hold space despite how sore your body was, you found it atop the bed that was in his small personal quarters. The door had been left open in his haste to get back into the city. It was flashing a red light, the beeping continuing at a steady pace. Your nerves tingled as you realized what it meant. The job was back on for the entirety of the Guild. It would be a free for all, the hunt for the Child back on. You took it with you back up to the cockpit, watching as the sun began to disappear on the horizon, the fob tight in your hand.

You had managed to silence it, but the light still glowed red on the face of it.

You were still in the cockpit, taking in the surroundings of the ship when you noticed the way the same busy streets you had been watching all day seemed to clear, nearly desolate in the waning day. They had cleared as twilight had delved into early evening; the sun having dipped completely below the horizon now. A lot of the main throughways had emptied at the same time. The panicked feeling grew stronger in your chest.

It was something that made your instincts itch to run, to warn the Mandalorian. But you had no way to, the integrity of his armor had been damaged and then replaced with a completely new set. You doubted the outdated communications cuff you had in the bottom of your old bag would even connect to his, if you even had his chain code or communications number. You had no idea if you could maybe contact somehow with the controls on the ship, there was no time for you to figure it out.

Mechanics weren’t your strong suit. You could fly should the need arise, but you didn’t know enough to comfortably mess around with the older model of this ship without risking messing something up or throwing something out of sync in the settings. Silently cursing this ugly planet and dangerous city, you took off into the streets you had been monitoring.

You wandered a few streets into the city before actually beginning to search for what you wanted.

Making sure you hadn’t gained the attention of anyone or were being followed. Cautious as always. It was an odd feeling being down in the winding streets, it had been so long since you had been anywhere of your own volition. It was not lost on you that you were out on your own for the first time in who knows how long, to be seeking out help for someone else in your first moments of pseudo freedom. You had no motivation to seek out a ship of your own, to hide, to run. You had a mission, one that you felt deeply enough about to put your own true freedom to the side for the moment. The Mandalorian had somehow etched himself into your mind and you wanted him to succeed in this endeavor. In this rescue.

Not just for the sake of the Child. It was also for the man who had obviously connected with him, sensed something in him enough to regret turning him over as agreed when he took on the job.

It made you wish that someone had felt strongly enough about you to free your own fate. Or at least to aid you in achieving it yourself. You had been honest and ready to face the ramifications of your request upon the Mandalorian’s arrival at that compound. Asking him to kill you, to take the one thing you held close throughout your entire life, you had been ready. Ready to be free of the cycle that played out time and time again. You were tired of the running, the hiding, the scheming. Of watching over your shoulder every time you dared to leave a safe haven, a hiding place, the comfort of being alone for the sake of absolute safety. You didn’t see anything other than this being your life, until the end of your life.

You would agree with anyone that called you a coward, too afraid to take your own life but willing to ask for it. You would agree with them in absolution, it felt like a betrayal to those who had seen potential in you. To those that had taken you into their temple, taught you everything you knew, had seen the gift that they claimed you held. It would feel too much like disrespect, a slight to them in their deceased states after fighting so hard to protect what they believed in, who they believed in only to fall themselves. It would be a smear on your entire existence, to take your own life after they had laid down their own in protection. Despite the very fact that the gift they had seen in you, had set you on this very path.

The Mandalorian hadn’t mentioned anything other than this being a hub for the Guild in passing, where he would retrieve pucks and return captures. But there was something else about the city that had to mean something to him, to keep him returning and adamant about it as you had looked over his travel logs stored in the control system. He seemed to return here, to this outer rim location more than any other, sometimes stopping between every other planet. It had to be other Mandalorians.

Jobs, you were mostly sure of getting his payment and to obtain more, but he couldn’t possibly be coming back just for employment. You spied a large figure lingering in a doorway down the same street you were on. The streetlight glinting off of his helmet for the barest of seconds, but it was enough for you to see a similar looking visor. You knew it wasn’t him, it didn’t feel like him, but the figure still brought a sense of comfort low in your nerves. You had been correct in your hunch, it was other Mandalorian’s bringing your captor back to this planet time and time again. As if it were a base of operations for him.

You watched as the large figure moved about the streets, his armor glinting blue in the pale light of the moon beginning to show her face as night blanketed the planet. Unlike the Mandalorian you were currently captive to, this one had what appeared to be a jet pack fastened to his broad back. Large machinery was attached to him as well, but you couldn’t make out if it was a blaster or some other kind of weapon from your distance.

The figure deemed the street safe enough to briskly make their way down the length of it and around the corner of a building. A gloved hand came up to the side of the helmet and pressed something, as if they had activated something in the visor or mechanics of the helmet. They continued on, dipping silently down a flight of stairs that led into a lower-level alley. They paused in front of a nondescript door, the wood barely kept together with how warped it was, but as he reached for the handle you closed the distance with a deliberate scuff of your foot and spoke softly to them.

“Jatne vod, gar vod cuyir o'r burun.”

Sir, your brother is in danger.

The armored man swung around quickly, his hands going to the handle of the rather large machinery tethered to his form. Gun, it was a gun of some sort. Perhaps a modified blaster? His visor aimed down at you and tried your best to keep calm. Instincts not liking the focused attention. You didn’t know this man, but you knew of his Creed. He would cause you no harm unless threatened. While fighting and weaponry of a part of their culture, so was respect and the willingness to aid those in need.

“Pehea vaabir gar kar'taylir mando'a? bic cuyir a ranov'la joha par ner adate.  Ner adate shi.”

 How do you know Mando’?. It’s a language for my people. My people only.

“Gedet'ye, Jatne vod.  Ni cuy' ti solus be gar vod.  Kaysh cuyir o'r burun.  Te beroya.  Gaa'tayl, kaysh's at cuyir ru'ram'or jaon ad'ika.”

Sir, I am with one of your brothers. The bounty hunter. He is to be attacked over a foundling.

You knew of the Mandalorian culture putting great worth on foundlings, on those in need of guidance in the face of whatever circumstances that left them alone and needing for it. You hoped that the mention of one would help to convince the man in front of you to give aid to your captor. The Child deserved to be protected, to have someone looking out for him. And if that person needed help in the beginning of their journey, then you were going to kriffing make sure that he had it. You were worried about them both, wanting for this to story to have a good ending even if you weren’t going to be so lucky.

No one was ever going to be in your corner half as much as you had witnessed with the Mandalorian and the Child.

“Te beroya cuyir kovid.  Kaysh liser akaanir.”

The bounty hunter is strong. He can fight.

“Jatne vod, anade.  Val cuyir at jehavey'ir.”

Sir, everyone. They are to ambush him.

You shook your head at his words, not wanting to argue with him. He needed to understand that you weren’t diminishing their strength, either as a whole or individually in the case of the Mandalorian you were trying to save. If the entire Guild and the remnants of the Empire here on this planet were to mark him as a target, there was no way he would leave the confrontation alive. He was capable, but not when up against impossible odds. You had faith in him and his abilities, his title, the way he lived his life. But this….this was going to be a carefully executed slaughter. Your captor would need someone watching over his back. He would need help of his own.

“Pehea vaabir ni kar'taylir ibic cuyir nayc gaanaylir par mhi an?”

How do I know it’s not a trap for us all?

The armored man so similar to the Mandalorian you knew, gruff nature. Hesitant to take words as they were presented, seeing the threat in them even if it was false and only a misconception of one. It was what kept them alive in the face of attempted extermination, you would know. The Jedi and Mandalorians shared a similar history, though you knew they were once fierce enemies. If the tables were turned, you would have already walked away from him. You would have seen it as a ploy to get you out into the open as well, to be attacked yourself and to be captured.

“Ni ru'kel vaabir nayc such kebi.” You stood your ground, despite having to look up at the visor of the taller figure now staring you down. His gloved hands were at the ready atop his control cuff. Prepared to either take you out or to jet off with his pack as far away from you as possible. You closed your eyes in a long blink, gathering the courage to admit something aloud. Something that had become rather apparent even back on Arvala-7, even despite the circumstances that you came to know the Mandalorian in the first place. “Ni ganar baatir par val oyay.”

I would do no such thing. I care about his life.

The man must have felt the truth of your words. For his next move was to lower his hands from his weapons and face you in a completely open manner. He looked you up and down, the helmet moving with the scape of him taking in the way you were standing tall, trying to hold firm to your decision to seek him out. He noticed the fading bruises around your neck, the collar of the borrowed Mandalorian’s shirt wide on your shoulders. The bags underneath your eyes were still visible, but you were aware of how you must’ve looked. Like a spooked thing recovering from something awful, hiding in the shadows of the dirty buildings in this seedy settlement. All to seek out help for someone you barely knew anything about.

You could feel his gaze burning over you, dissecting you for everything you both willingly and unwillingly put on display.

With a nod, he said he would take your words seriously in Basic, and he disappeared down the street.

You took your time getting back to the ship, making sure no one had been witness to the exchange that had just taken place. If you were to be recognized or targeted, at least your last moments had been used to ensure the safety and protection of the Child, of a foundling in need of family and support. You kept your head on a swivel, not wanting to be taken off guard or to run into anyone who might have connections with the fallen Empire that was very much still alive on this outer rim planet.

As you turned down one of the more narrow streets, there was a figure slumped down on the ground, upper half leaned up against the side of a building. They were completely still, you weren’t sure if they were passed out as a result of too much spice or drink or dead. You cautiously swiped the bag of credits that had been on display, dangling from the man’s belt. You pocketed it, the borrowed pants the Mandalorian had loaned heavy as you made your way back to the ship.

After swiping the credits, you felt distant eyes watching over you. There was no hint to where or who they were, but you had a feeling it had to do with the Mandalorian you had sought out. Maybe he was keeping tabs on you to ensure the truth of your words, or had appointed someone else to do so.

As you began to ascend the ramp of the Crest, you turned to look over your shoulder one last time. You had hope that whoever it was that was tailing you hadn’t been brave or foolish enough to follow you aboard the ship. It wasn’t yours, but as you hit the button to close the ramp, a figure stepped out of the shadows and turned down the main street. It was a Mandalorian in yellow and orange armor. They had a hand held up close to the bottom of their helmet, no doubt reporting what ship you had just boarded via commlink.

The sight of Mandalorian at the head of the main street, having come out of an alley had you standing from where you were daringly seated in the pilot seat. That same, nearly panicked feeling, from earlier sparking in your chest when his beskar armor reflected the moonlight that shown down. The wrapped bundle in the crook of his arm was still, but you knew he had been successful in his rescue.

As he had turned onto the main street, bounty hunters appeared all around him. From the entrance of alleyways, down the main thoroughfare of the street, from parked speed bikes and smaller inner-city transport ships. The man you recognized as Greef Karga, from the transmission the Mandalorian had watched with you in the cockpit, stood near the entrance archway. His back to the shipyard and to you. He had people flanking him, seeming to be the one in charge as the head of the Guild. You couldn’t make out what was going on from so far away and within the relative safety of the ship, but you could tell words were being traded.

The Mandalorian didn’t have any weapons at the ready, his focus had been on the bundle in his arms. He snaked his right hand down to hover over the blaster in the holster at his hip. He had blasters of all shapes and sizes aimed at him, though you weren’t sure what the specifics of his new armor was but it had to be enough for him to still hold the confident air you could see on him from here. He stood his ground, not making moves to take in his surroundings. He had to have known that he was utterly surrounded, even from above where you could spy sharpshooters stationed on rooftops.

Some sort of agreement seemed to be achieved, as the Mandalorian began to take slow steps toward a wide, open speeder. Every pair of eyes and blaster barrel followed the armored man’s movements. He came to a halt right in front of the speeder, helmet aimed down at it as he thought something over. He notched his head to look at the bundle in his arms, still as a statue.

In an explosion of movement, he jerked his hand down and wielded his blaster and was firing shots in seconds. He continued to shoot as he jumped up and spun to land lengthwise within the interior of the open speeder. The lip of it and the cargo it contained helping to shield him momentarily from the barrage of shots that rained all around the street. Lights of blaster bolts bright in the early night.

The speeder began to move forward, and as it did so the helmet of the Mandalorian popped up over the top of some strapped down cargo. He had just enough vision to shoot a few bolts, the hits landing and taking out some of the opposing figures. The speeder only got about halfway down the street before someone had the thought to take out the droid that had been operating it. It came to a crashing halt, the hover optics were no longer working and it slammed hard into the ground.

Everything stilled, bounty hunters slowly approaching the downed speeder. But the Mandalorian’s rifle made a slow, steady movement and a shooter up above was taken out. Their body disappearing in a burst of ash and the bits of fabric from their clothing that didn’t burn up flitted down to settle on the street below. Other people began to disintegrate as the Mandalorian took aim again and again. Some took cover, some took off completely. But it was still far too many for him to take on alone and make it out unharmed, let alone alive. You worried for the Child, who was surely not enjoying being caught in the middle of the chaos lest he have awoken during your separation.

Dust flew up, making it hard to decipher anything else below. Flames erupted from where you knew the Mandalorian was still hunkered down in the speeder. It was a chaotic scene of blaster bolts lighting up all around. Suddenly, figures in familiar armor and helmets descended down into the street. Jet packs aiding them in quickly gaining the upper hand. You heard the ramp of the ship open, but you hadn’t been the one to initiate it. The battle raged on for a good while, until you finally saw the form of the Mandalorian cross the threshold of the archway that let into the city. His silhouette having formed before he appeared through the smoke and dust of the fighting.

He was walking briskly to the ship, the Child safely in his arms.

You rushed out of the pilot seat and began to make your way through the upper space of the cockpit. A foot settled on the first rung of the ladder when a voice you didn’t know sounded through the space from behind the Mandalorian. He turned to face the man standing at the top of the lowered ramp, beside the carbon freezing chamber. You rushed down, coming to stand just behind your armored captor.

“Hold it, Mando.” You watched from behind the broad wall the Mandalorian made, fighting down the urge to gently reach around him for the Child and bring him into your own arms. You saw the way that the Mandalorian’s arms tightened the hold he had on the bundled up form in his protection. “I didn’t want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code.”

The helmet moved to the left, seeing that he was positioned just beside the freezing chamber. He discreetly pressed a button on his cuff, a metal cord shot out and activated something in the chamber.

Just as a thick steam began to fill the space of the hold, the shine of a blaster being pulled from a hidden holster flashed in the lights of the ship from the opposing man. The determined man aimed them both at toward the interior of the ship. A barrage of shots rang out, fuzzy lights filling the space between you all.

One of them pinged off of the newly fashioned cuirass protecting the Mandalorian, another settled itself in your ribcage. Others rained around you, pinging off of crates and the floor. It hadn’t been a blaster that had hit you, it had been some sort of gun with actual bullets. You tried to muffle your shout, not wanting to disrupt his concentration should he need to continue the standoff. But both men were good shots, the Mandalorian’s had landed directly over the opposing man’s chest. His one to the other man’s many.

You carefully lowered yourself to the ground as something buried in your skin protested, the warm feeling of sticky blood soaking the fabric of your borrowed shirt was paired with a sharp pain that made it hard to take in a full breath. You realized that the wheezing sound was you, Greef Karga was unconscious at the end of the boarding ramp that had begun to close. Your eyes caught his form still on the ground as your own began to convulse. Your wheezing turned into a wet cough, followed by another and another.

Hands were on you, searching your back for the injury that was causing the concerning sounds to fill the enclosed hold space, the steam clearing. You were trying to hold yourself up on your knees and your left arm, your right held to your mouth as you continued to wheeze and cough intermittently. You tried to shake the concern off, he needed to get the ship up in the air. He needed to get away from the people that would surely follow up into the air and space given the chance.

“The ship!” You ground out, bringing your hand away from your mouth, eyes widening at the alarming amount of blood that was puddled in your palm, dripping thickly to the durasteel flooring of the ship. A groan sounded from you unbidden as you felt yourself be turned over onto your back, the dark fabric of the Mandalorian’s shirt shiny with your blood. Your eyes were getting heavy, you closed them, lips parting to try and bring air into your stinging lungs.

“You’ve got to get us into hyperspace. They’ll kill you for the Child.”

“This isn’t a blaster shot.” His large hands had lifted the fabric up enough to see the entrance wound, gunpowder marring the skin around it and mixing with the steady flow of blood that was seeping from it.

“The ship, jatne vod.” You wheezed out, grabbing his hand and removing it. You pushed at him weakly, hands on his cuirass. He didn’t so much as budge, his helmet was aimed down at you, the dark visor bleeding into dark streaks across your vision. When he stood, it was then that you realized in the back of your mind that he had been holding you up off the floor with one arm and checking your wound with the other. Your body moved easily as he held you behind your back and underneath your knees.

“They’ll kill you and take us both, please.”

You found some strength as panic seared in your very psyche. Your hands gripped the cowl underneath his helmet and you brought it down closer to you. You pressed your forehead against the metal of the helmet over the visor, eyes straining to focus on something, anything beneath the dark of it. For him to understand that you didn’t want that, you didn’t want him killed and you didn’t want to become someone else’s captive alongside the Child. The arms around you tightened.

“D-don’t let them take me.” A sob wracked your injured body, suddenly overcome with everything that had happened the past week. Overcome with the thought that you had risked everything to save the Child, to save the Mandalorian. To give them the chance you so desperately wanted for yourself. Your head fell back from where it touched his armor, eyes clenched shut, his arms curled around you more securely. He didn’t say anything, the sounds of people shouting and approaching the ship ushering him into motion.

Blaster fire pinged off the exterior of the ship, prompting the Mandalorian to walk a little faster further into the ship.

“What were you thinking.” It wasn’t a question, not really, not with the way the words were growled at you through the modulator, static seething into them. His hands were light on you as he settled you into the chair to the left of the main one in the cockpit. He pushed your own hands down on the wrap he had put around your middle, urging you silently to keep them there. “I have to get us up and out, stay put for two fucking seconds.”

He kept glancing back at you as he got the ship up into the air and prepared to jump. The weapon you had been shot with had been modified. You couldn’t keep yourself upright, legs shaking and arms holding your middle. You slowly moved yourself to the floor, not wanting to chance falling over and tearing open the wound anymore. Of twisting the piece of metal that was imbedded deep in your ribcage. Time passed, you don’t know how long, vision and awareness fading. You didn’t see the Mandalorian salute another as they came up into the airspace around the Crest and bid him an all-clear sign.

You were brought back to the present by the feeling of soft leather and something cold and sharp digging into your skin. The ship had jumped, you were sure of it, the mesmerizing colors of hyperspace cascading into the cockpit. Your eyes could barely make out anything other than the washes of celestial light panning over the beautiful armor of the Mandalorian, his focus on your injury as he used a metal tool to retrieve the bits of the bullet that was making it hard to breath. You were whimpering at every small movement of the tool inside your skin, pieces of the offending thing pinged along the durasteel floor of the ship the second they were wretched from your skin. Bloody and smearing the clean cabin as the ship continued to travel on.

You cried out, lungs punching air out of your entire body in a painful surge as the last and largest piece was pulled from you and thrown to the floor with the tool he had been using to retrieve them. You felt fresh, warm blood trickle down the side of your mouth. It coated your lips, you could feel it between your teeth and the taste of it was dizzying. Your head spun, your body hurt, your lungs burned, and your vision began to gray. His voice was sounding but you couldn’t make out any words. Suddenly the visor of his helmet was the only thing you could see through hazy eyes, the darkness of it beckoning you and you were ready to follow.

A sharp, hot feeling washed over you as the sound of another tool buried itself into your head and made you nauseas. You could feel your body jerk but could do nothing to stop it, a pressure was on your chest, over your heart that was holding you still. The quick, disjointed beating of it surely could be felt through your skin. The Mandalorian was working to close the wound with that same cauterizing tool he had used back on Arvala-7. Your mind going fuzzy and all sense of being zapped away as he tried to close the bleeding wound.

“Where would you want to go, if given the chance?” The question bubbled up from his chest before he could stop it. The color draining from your face and the blood soaking the worn leather of his gloves pulled it from within him. He wanted to know something personal about you, he realized. He wanted a small piece of you should this be one of your last moments. He wanted someone somewhere to know something real about you, not only what you were capable of and wanted for. He wanted to be that someone. It was against his creed to ask such questions of someone if your intention wasn’t courting, the notion lost on him in his anxiety.

Your lashes fluttered as you tried to train your eyes on the black of his visor. To not be swallowed by the darkness in them. Your eyes were so dull, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach as he realized he was losing you. The cauterizing tool fell from one hand to clatter soundlessly on the floor. His ears were strained, watching your lips move as you tried to get words out.

“I’ve never been asked that.” You sobbed as you felt him remove his hands from you, leaving you alone and untethered on the floor of his ship. Tears raced down your cheeks, warm and salty when they cascaded over your nose and down to your lips. It was just for a moment, his hands were pressing a bacta patch to your middle, light pressure to make sure the adhesive stuck to your skin. His eyes moved to watch the white rag soak up your blood as he wiped it across your skin, not able to take the sight of your face going slack. You murmured one last thing before your body gave out on you. “I’ve always loved the forest.”

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[the-blind-assassin-12]

So Darkness I Became

1200 words for 1200 followers #7

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! The idea for this one jumped up and bit me on the nose almost immediately, and I know it’s a little out there, but I hope you still enjoy it! This takes place in the time before Din rejoins the covert, when he’s still just going from bounty to bounty to pass the time without Grogu and trying to figure out what the heck to do with the damn Darksaber. I have two more requests for Din for this event, and right now I *think* one of them might be a follow up to this... but we’ll see.  💚

Warnings: not much, honestly. mild angst and canon-typical danger. 

Requested By: @prolix-yuy​ Song: Cosmic Love Character Choice: LJ gave me the options of Din or Ezra, correctly asserting that this song is perfect for both of the space boys - and to my surprise, being an Ezra girl, I decided to go with Dinjamin. Thank you for sending this one in, darling! I hope you enjoy where I took it! 

Summary: You and Din have been working together for a while now, but there are still more things that you don’t know about each other than you do. That doesn’t stop you from feeling how you feel, though. When Din follows a lead that he hopes will yield information on the Darksaber’s previous owners, you find out if those feelings are enough to make you risk everything to help him. 

“Stay with the ship.” 

Those were his last words to you before disappearing through the door. The hefty metal plate slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the empty hull and resonating through your bones. Watching him go felt wrong - cold and final. Though you tried, you couldn’t stave off the thought that he wouldn’t return. 

No. You swallowed hard. He will. He always does. 

The two of you had been working together for a year. It had been a partnership of desperation at first - you out of ammo and on the run from the brothers of some Klatooinian capo you’d turned in, and Din armed to the teeth but without a ride off-world. He’d helped you dispatch the brothers, and you’d taken him where he needed to go, and then you had meant to part ways. But before you could refuel, he had shown back up at the spaceport with a handful of bounty pucks and the proposition of teaming up and splitting the profits on them. 

It was only supposed to be until he saved up enough for his own ship. But that mark had come and gone and you were still a team of two, and though neither of you had opened up, neither of you seemed eager to suggest that you split up, the unspoken threat of loneliness enough to keep you tethered. 

Even when the types of jobs you took became more personal than profitable, like the one that you were currently on. On Dathomir. 

The name alone was enough to chill you. You had never set foot there, and you never intended to. Dathomir was dangerous, its landscape as unforgiving as the creatures that inhabited it. But its history of malevolence left the planet scarred in ways that terrified you. You’d heard rumors of a vergence there, a well of Dark side energy that was powerful enough to corrupt anyone who fell prey to it, especially those who were in tune with the Force.

Like me. 

You shuddered, recalling what you’d said to convince him not to chase whatever knowledge he sought, careful not to reveal your secret. “Dathomir’s a one-way ticket, Djarin. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die in a bog.” 

You’d always hidden your abilities, knowing that it was your best chance at survival - and that meant that despite spending the last year with him, Din didn’t know. You weren’t sure how he would react to learning that you were Force-sensitive, but if it meant losing him you weren’t willing to risk it. Just like you weren’t sure how he’d react to learning that you had started to develop feelings for him. You kept those to yourself, too. 

He’d answered with a tilt of his helmet. “I won’t ask you to follow me. But if there’s something I can learn there about this?” He gestured to the hilt at his waist. “I have to go. This is the Way.” 

You knew as soon as he used that phrase there was no changing his mind. All you could hope for was an urgent call to pull him away before you reached the Quelli sector. It never came. 

So you waited, eyes glued to the monitor that tracked his location. You held your breath as you watched the little throb of light descend into a cave. That same cold feeling you had when he left slithered through every fiber of your being as the beacon on the screen blinked - and then blacked out. 

Your heart lurched. With shaking hands you smacked the monitor, hoping it was a glitch, but the beacon was gone. No! 

You were half-way down the ladder before the comm link on your wrist crackled, his voice coming through speaking your name. “You – right. – shouldn’t have – here. You – – go!“ 

“Din!” Your pulse smashed against your eardrums as you responded. “ I’m not leaving you. I’m…” You choked on tears you didn’t know were falling. “I’m coming.” 

“No.” More interference bled through the speaker. Beneath it you could hear him groan in pain. “You – “ He let out another distressed sound. “Go!” 

And then the comm cut out, too. 

In that instant, you made the choice that you realized never was one. Nothing could keep you from going after him, not even your fear of the Dark side. You didn’t even stop to arm yourself, bypassing the weapons locker and heading straight for the door, leaping from the ship. Without turning back, you raised your right hand across your body and over your shoulder, swiveling your wrist so that your palm faced the sky, and then clenching your fist and bringing it back down, the door of the ship slamming shut. 

Without the beacon or the comms you would have to focus to find him. You silenced your thoughts as you ran, concentrating on Din - on the way his solid presence felt beside you, on the way you could feel his heartbeat when you reached across the cockpit with the Force. You followed your instincts until you were at the mouth of the cave he had disappeared into, and then it wasn’t just a feeling. 

You could hear his heart beating in the dark. 

It was slow and weak, but the rhythm was unmistakably his. You pushed further into the cave until the air was thick and you couldn’t see beyond your nose. The relief you felt was fleeting, though, as suddenly the space was lit with an eerie green light… reflecting off Beskar armor. 

At the far end of the cave, near what appeared to be an altar, you saw him slumped against the stone, glowing green tendrils coiled around his chest. 

“He is ours.” A disembodied voice hissed.

“He has brought it back to us. The Darksaber.” 

“And now he is our soldier.” 

To your horror, the visor on Din’s helmet glowed the same green as he hovered to his feet, and you knew there was only one thing you could do to save him - the thing you feared the most. But you didn’t hesitate. Reaching far beyond your limits, you tapped into the Darkness, harnessing it instead of pushing it away. 

“No.” You growled, slowly shaking your head and reaching out with your right hand. Curling your fingers and twisting your wrist in the air, you ripped the hilt of the obsidian blade from Din’s belt. “You will not use him. You will not take him.” The sword flew to your grasp and you ignited it instantly. “You will release him, or I will destroy this cave and you along with it.” 

It felt like crumbling, letting that much power flow through you. But you fought it, focusing on the faint sound of his heartbeat. The voices shrieked and wailed, retreating into the Darkness. Just as you thought you would break, Din was released from his trance. 

As soon as he was free you dropped to your knees, panting and dizzy, but before you lost consciousness you felt his gloved hands land on your shoulders. At his touch you felt a wave of calm wash over you, your name the last thing you heard before you fell into his arms. 

Safe. We’re safe now, Din. 

.

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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor​ @gollyderek​​ @pheedraws​​ @beautifuldesastre​​ @alraedesigns​ @valkblue​  @fific7​  @commanderlola​  @cannedsoupsucks​ @dihra-vesa​ @marauderskeeper​ @disgruntledspacedad​ @littlemisspascal​ @mishasminion360​ @stevie75​ @nyctophiliiiiaaa​ @practicalghost​ @tanzthompson​ @harriedandharassed​ @woodlandmouth​ @thescarletfang​ @trickstersp8​ @princessxkenobi​ @imtryingmybeskar​ @WildMoonFlower @mswarriorbabe80​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @theredwritingwitch​ @silverstarsandsuns​ @competentpotato​ @pedro-pedrito-pascalito​ @jedi-in-crocs​ @hannahkatharine​ @anoverwhelmingdin​ @chiyo13​ @myloveistoolittle​ @spishsstuff @noisynightmarepoetry 

[foggysirens]

First, Cal and Ezra as Ghostfacers is just galaxy brain. For full disclosure my entire knowledge of them at present is what I've absorbed via Tumblr and fic osmosis, but that still feels 1000% like something Ezra would do, and Cal would easily be talked into. Also my often dormant Angst Gremlin is thinking about my low-key enjoyment of skybridger, and considering the potential of Din misinterpreting their relationship for a while.

My knowledge of wrestling is quite a bit out of date (I've not watched since I was a child), but as fun as the potential of "practice matches" between Dean and Cas sounds, my brain just keeps going "Dr. Sexy! Dr. Sexy!" (possibly much like a drugged up Dean...? XD ) Also, in light of this particular subject, it could be argued that a wrestling biography is actually research...

Also, don't ever worry that a reply is getting too long. I love to hear/read people getting excited about their ideas. :D

okay so i had typed out a full reply to this and then completely forgot about it in my drafts!!! it’s been a while and ive had more thoughts so im just gonna restart and answer them anew lol

okay so yes - im so glad you agree cal and ezra would make excellent ghostfacers, though i feel like they would be less like canon spn ghostfacers and more like “annoying younger brothers with a YouTube channel” who mostly do it for shits n giggles but do eventually end up helping luke and leia out on some very real hunts (also LOVE the idea of luke and ezra becoming friendly and din, angel of the lord and not fully understanding the concept of flirting with your friends, fully accepts them as being together and throws himself into the fight for heaven instead (don’t even get me started on angel!din and his relationship with heaven in this au, the way it parallels his religion and fealty from canon but layered with that ‘being of cosmic power’ aspect that makes for the fish out of water trope to just hit that much harder and like imagining him going through the naomi-cas brainwashing arc is making me foam at the mouth istg) leaving luke reeling because he’d gotten so used to din being there that he’d forgotten that his angel has an allegiance to something far beyond him and how could he ever pick a mess of a human over all that? (spoiler din does))

and yeah, my wrestling knowledge is mainly limited to the wrestling scene of the 80s-90s so i think if i ever do write a wrestling au it would be set in that era (though im leaning toward making it a dinluke au, as per my original idea with it, cause destiel already has some wonderful and amazing wrestling fics out there) (also i never did end up reading that wrestling biography in case anyone was wondering i got it from the library but that bitch ended up being like 600 pages and i did not finish it)

anyways! thank you for this and for letting me ramble on! i haven’t really been thinking about dinluke or star wars much lately (i’ve been working on a bigger destiel fic that’s in the early stages rn and is already kicking my butt!) (as well as chewing on a couple of other spn/destiel fic ideas) but it was super fun to jump back into that crossover and it definitely made me want to sit back down and chip away at it again! (however now i am also just thinking about the star wars!spn au again and force sensitive!cas and hnnnng) but yes! thank you so much ive missed talking fandom and headcannon/fic ideas!

[dameronalone]

please elaborate on the jedi and mandalorians

I am SO glad you asked I've been thinking about this a lot for awhile

basically, the mandalorians and the jedi have wayyyyy more in common than either they think or would like to believe. the venn diagram with the overlap of mandos and jedi is nearly a circle. obviously their biggest difference is that the mandalorian's first instinct is to hit back, while the jedi would prefer hitting back as a LAST resort

readmore for everyone else's sake

but they really do have so much in common. both are a highly specific cultures with imo closed communities (it's not that they don't like "outsiders" but not just anyone can be part of the group) and despite being such a small percentage of the population of the galaxy, they are both nearly instantly recognizable. they both have core principles that they cling to. they are both misunderstood by outsiders because of their closed practices and they were both massacred by the empire. they both value family. maybe the jedi wouldn't phrase it that way exactly, and the mandalorian would say something about blood bonds, but the point is that the strongest relationship were familial.

just look at any of the main mandalorian characters or the jedi. anakin and obi-wan. bo-katan and satine. din and grogu. leia and rey. familial. I'm trying to think - I believe the only romantic relationship focused on with a mandalorian was satine and obi-wan (which is fascinating for entirely different reasons I don't have time to get into)

again, they do have very different philosophies: the mandalorians are a militaristic society and the jedi value peace above all else. we all know how satine's pacifistic efforts turned out (you can't change an entire society's philosophy of the society is not willing to change).

the jedi and mandalorians are both highly skilled fighters when it comes to it and though historically tend to clash because of their opposing ideals, when they DO work together their shared outcome almost always ends in success. I like the little "a jedi and a mandalorian? they'll never see it coming" because it still hinges on the fact that the rest of society still misunderstand both cultures and take them at face value. of course the fighter and the peacekeeper will never get alone, must less fight together. but the jedi tempers the mandalorian and the mandalorian encourages the particular breed of boldness in the jedi

(off topic: my slight beef with making sabine force sensitive in the ahsoka show is because I feel like it takes away from her arc in the cartoon. she became balanced as a fighter and strategist because of kanan's influence while still being a proud mandalorian. you don't have to be force sensitive to hold jedi principles. I just feel like it takes from kanans legacy idk)

the point is that the mandalorians and the jedi have so much in common, if it weren't for the conflicting philosophies of combat / peacekeeping, they would be feared allies. they ARE feared allies, the times they've teamed up. some of the strongest fighters have been the ones that truly embodied both jedi and mandalorian principles. I can't imagine how powerful tarre vizla must have been, I don't even mean from like a strength perspective, i mean the combination of both philosophies is buckwild. and I'm not saying one philosophy is better or worse than the other. the mandalorians survived so long against the empire because of their relentless refusal to submit. palpatine knew he had to ambush the jedi and wipe them out if he wanted a chance for the empire to succeed. peacekeepers first. that doesn't necessarily mean they don't fight, because we know they do. when you're already at war, you fight against tyranny. the only way he beat the mandalorians and the jedi is by just. wiping them out with an onslaught neither could escape or prevent.

anyway it makes you wonder how many mandalorians are/were force sensitive and just did not go to the temple (take THAT babysnatchers jedi theorists) because you can't tell me there were NO other force sensitive mandalorians before or after tarre vizla. my beef with f-s sabine regardless its fun to see one of those late bloomer jedi stories in canon star wars the way we used to have in legends and I would like it if we got more of that.

[physically restraining myself from going off on that topic]

anyway. mandalorians. jedi. I love them both so so much. they mean so much to me. I don't know if this made any sense but it makes sense to me

[bikananjarrus]

updates from the land of the ahsoka show tv spot nonsense (aka i have got to stop fucking watching these bc i’m just going into these little rage spirals)

(sorry in advance, this got kinda long.)

from the master & apprentice tv spot:

first we had this from kathleen kennedy

and while i get she was probably going for the ‘rosario is a good actress and we don’t think any other actor could play ahsoka in live action’ sentiment, it just comes off as SO dismissive of ashley eckstein’s work as ahsoka.

ashley isn’t featured in this video at all, and there’s really only one mention of her doing “great work” as ahsoka in the clone wars. much more emphasis was put on filoni and his work bringing the character to life, and his journey with the character. (as a writer he should get credit for his work writing the character, but none of that writing would’ve been brought to life without ashley).

this just feels like such an insult to ashley, who recently just talked about how much backlash she got when ahsoka first came on screen. she had to deal with so much hate, and it just feels a little ick that they’re still hardly talking about her in these behind the scenes videos. (and the additional ick about rosario’s ahsoka getting so much attention and praise, and how that ties into live action being valued over animation, but that’s a separate rant).

AND THEN, there’s this nonsense from filoni:

i just. where do I even begin with how much i hate the integration of sabine into this lineage?

i’ve talked a bit about it previously, but i just don’t understand the angle of making sabine (who is a mandalorian and very proud of it!!!) into a jedi apprentice!!! and i hate this angle! i don’t see how this will help sabine grow and develop—she’s already a incredibly well-trained warrior, including lightsaber training! because KANAN TAUGHT HER!!!! will she ever be as good as anakin or ahsoka or other jedi? no. But she doesn’t need to be.

and wielding the darksaber in the first place wasn't even really about learning how to use a lightsaber for the sake of using a lightsaber, or because sabine secretly wanted to be a jedi. kanan taught her how to use it because he and fenn rau knew she would be challenged once other mandalorians saw her with it. and they were hoping that she could help unite mandalorians, but other mandalorians weren't going to respect her if she couldn't hold her own with the lightsaber.

and if this is some weird way of trying to have sabine carry on the legacy of kanan and ezra, this is a dumb way to do it. there are plenty of other ways she can honor them (the huge beautiful mural she painted on lothal, for one! protecting lothal in general! And uhhh finding ezra?? instead of filoni saying she stuck around lothal the entire war???). and also, by tying her "jedi training" to ahsoka, that's not really honoring kanan and ezra, because they were part of mace windu's jedi legacy, NOT anakin's! (well, yoda's, but you know. for the sake of that quote from filoni, anakin's).

not everything has to be about anakin's lineage! but filoni is making it that way. this jedi training isn't about sabine, it's about ahsoka. and if he's trying to say something about ahsoka suddenly being a teacher, or what her being a teacher says about her past with anakin, i highly doubt he will do it in a way that's interesting or true to the character, because for filoni, ahsoka always has to be perfect and can do no wrong. and yet, even though she refused to teach grogu because of his attachments to din, she's suddenly super okay with teaching sabine, who has way more attachments than grogu??

like if filoni REALLY wanted ahsoka to be a master so badly, jacen syndulla, an actual force sensitive child, is right there. (though, he absolutely should be taught by ezra bc shatterpoint lineage rights).

and if filoni tries pulling some bullshit about how sabine was force sensitive the entire time, that's an insult to sabine's character, and it's a HUGE insult to kanan, who absolutely would have noticed that she was force sensitive.

it just feels like a back-handed way to say that sabine being just a mandalorian isn't good enough (and god forbid we have more than one major mandalorian character in the star wars franchise who isn't din djarin), and that kanan and ezra aren't good enough, it has to be ahsoka that teaches sabine. i already don't have faith that sabine's mandalorian family will get mentioned a whole lot, if at all. and now with her training to be a jedi, it just feels like they're trying to abandon her entire culture. not everyone needs to be a jedi, and not everyone needs to be force sensitive, and not everything needs to be about ahsoka.

and again, i absolutely have nothing against ahsoka as a character. (i don't like rosario's portrayal of her, and don't even like rosario.)

but dave filoni is starting to beat the dead horse by constantly having ahsoka in new star wars media (probably unpopular opinion, but i think ahsoka should've died on malachor like she was supposed to and should never have been brought back by ezra in the WBW. but that's a separate essay).

so now, in what should have been an (animated) rebels sequel, ahsoka is the star. and the rebels characters are going to get the short end of the stick, as usual.

[notallthosewho-wanderarelost]

Ahsoka 1x01 1x02 Thoughts/Questions

Spoilers for Ahsoka of course, and spoilers for Star Wars Rebels.

WHAT IS SABINE’S CAT’S NAME???? This is unironically my number one question. What if she named it Ezra.

Where is Jacen? My broccoli boy 💚

Wtf is up with Morgan Elsbeth being a nightsister? She’s very clearly human and not the same species as Talzin, Ventress, and Merrin, etc. Is Dave bringing back the concept of a group of human Nightsisters from the EU? (In which case, I’d like to see Teneniel Djo please.) Morgan says she’s a “descendant of the witches of Dathomir,” does that mean she could be part Nightsister but mostly human? Worth noting she is clearly able to do at least a bit of Nightsister magick in the scene with the map- she summons green smoke while opening it. Why the inconsistency in species? It seems silly to suddenly have a human Nightsister character when it’s needlessly confusing.

Also, the instant she said she was a Nightsister and a survivor I was like “who does she think she is ripping off Merrin like this?!” I will not tolerate this dollar store knockoff wannabe.

Update: checked the wiki and apparently there were a few small human Nightsister clans (the Singing Mountain clan is apparently still canon!), but mostly it was the big Dathomirian Nightsister clan led by Mother Talzin. Morgan could be from one of the smaller human clans. I think she just feels annoying to me because it’s like someone saw how cool Merrin is, thought she’d be a good villain for this, and then took the character concept wholesale for a piece of Star Wars media that’s more mainstream, but didn’t put in the work so it falls flat. And then her being human just makes it weirder. I wonder who made the decision to use the Nightsisters for this storyline, because doesn’t… fit. Even Morgan’s name is odd. Just feels like no effort was put into the character.

How did Ahsoka find Huyang? I’m so curious when and how this happened. I’m really happy to see him in this though, I loved him in Clone Wars.

Ahsoka can do psychometry now! Can we please get some canon Ahsoka and Cal Kestis interactions? Rebellion era would probably be best but I’m not picky. Obviously Cal’s abilities in that area are a lot stronger, but it’s nice he’s not alone and it’d be great to see them interact. They’re almost the same age, but just far enough apart that their experiences since Order 66 have been radically different.

Mando/Din spending seasons raising a Jedi foundling and Ahsoka taking on a non-Force-sensitive Mandalorian as a padawan is so funny to me. The irony of the inverse.

It’s also the perfect continuation of the disaster lineage attitude imo. Obi-Wan “I’ll train the kid you all say is too old to train” Kenobi, then Anakin and Ahsoka’s… you know, Anakin and Ahsoka-ing, and now Ahsoka’s like “I’ll take a regular non-Force-Sensitive person as a padawan.”

Merrin and Sabine would get along, I think.

Sabine being like 30 and still acting exactly like a rebellious teenager feels like a cry for help to me. :( I’m glad Hera seems to have her back, and it’s good that she has a cat, but I’m worried about her. It makes sense, but gosh poor Sabine. I’m sensing depression. She’s had such a tough life and a tough time with the concept of family, it feels like losing Ezra was the last straw for her emotionally.

Actually, where is Sabine’s biological family? Are Ursa, Tristan, and Alrich okay? Or did they not survive the Mandalorian Purge? (God no I WILL cry. Also @ Dave where is Korkie, why is Bo-Katan calling herself the last Kryze.)

So wait, the rest of the crew has spent 15 years thinking Ezra’s dead?? He said to come find him! I always felt like he was pretty clear he wasn’t dying when he pulled his purrgil stunt. Did they all just turn pessimistic and lose hope? That’s so sad.

I actually really love Sabine kind of being the Republic’s version of Thrawn as an expert art analyst. Continues the Sabine/Thrawn contrast Rebels started where Thrawn analyzes art in a more academic fashion and treats the culture it came from as a curiosity- he’s very into cultural appropriation!!- while Sabine makes her own art and is more capable of stepping into other people’s shoes to appreciate their art.

Ahsoka refusing to train Sabine because she’s too busy being sad and lonely, and Sabine refusing to talk to Ahsoka or train (or give speeches) because she’s too busy being sad and lonely. This is so sad and I want to hug them both.

It works because we have a new actress playing Ahsoka, but I’m so curious what this would have been like animated. Ahsoka feels similar enough to herself but very different, because she’s in such a different place emotionally, and I’m curious how this would’ve felt in animation with Ashley doing the voice.

There were a few scenes where I felt like I was watching a live action Rebels episode and it was the best! The entire sequence with Sabine on the hover bike getting away from her own New Republic squad lol, Hera in the Phantom with Chopper chasing after the ship and planting the tracker. Chopper not being able to find the tracker until Hera told him where it was felt SPOT ON.

The T-6 actually looks pretty roomy and comfortable so far. Like, not the best living situation, but it looks way bigger than the Falcon! Heck, it looks bigger than Ezra’s tower that Sabine’s living in.

That said, Ahsoka having not had a real home since leaving the Jedi Temple is killing me. She really has some abandonment/attachment/commitment issues she needs to work on. Extremely understandable issues given what happened, but it’s like after the end of Rebels she just… quit. Maybe finding out Kanan was gone and then coming back to find Ezra gone was the last straw for her.

I also feel like her giving up on Sabine’s training was because of how her own training ended and Anakin’s fall shortly after. She doesn’t feel capable of dealing with the feelings stirred up by having a student. So she just doesn’t.

Sabine’s collecting little brothers. :) Tristan, Ezra, and Jacen.

I yelled at Senator Jai Kell!!! Good for him!!!

Had a watch party with my friends for this and we all screamed the instant Chopper showed up!! And here I was thinking maybe he was off babysitting Jacen.

What in the world is with the map showing another galaxy?? Yuuzhan Vong vibes. (The way they were almost canon because we were supposed to get a Clone Wars episode with them… :’( )

Why DO the Nightsisters have a map to another galaxy? Didn’t they mostly stay on Dathomir? I can buy them having outposts like the ruins where Ahsoka found the map in an era when they left the planet more, but a map to whole other galaxy seems a bit off. Space exploration on that scale doesn’t seem like something they would do. I wonder if maybe the map is a relic from someone else that they picked up. I like the Rakata theory I saw floated by someone. I could see the Nightsisters picking up a Rakatan map. Those guys left random stuff everywhere iirc.

Does the Eye of Sion have anything to do with Darth Sion? (Of KOTOR 2 fame)

WHERE IS MORAI??? This is a really big question for me!!

Also wondering where Ahsoka’s Gandalf the White outfit is? Guessing she won’t get it until the end of the show. She has to go through her journey first. I wonder if the if it’ll mirror the Topps cards Filoni did after Twilight of the Apprentice at all.

It’s really sad to me that this show is coming out during the strike, because I really need Filoni commentary on things. Actor commentary would be great as well. This is ridiculous, the studios need to pay the people who make things a fair wage.

Shoutout to Natasha Liu Bordizzo’s portrayal of Sabine so far. She feels JUST like Sabine and it’s great. We haven’t really seen enough of Hera yet for me to comment on Mary Elizabeth Winstead’s acting. (It was so weird seeing Hera be taller than Ahsoka though lol.) And Sabine had much more of an arc in these two episodes than Ahsoka did so I can’t really comment on Rosario’s Ahsoka either. Will say she’s been excellent so far, especially in her first appearance in the Mandalorian episode. Looking forward to seeing more!

[m00ntunaart]

*gasp* DRAGON DIN? OF MY OWN DESIGN? 🤩 Eek thank you for drawing him! I’m so glad other people seem to like this crossover! I should stop being surprised, but I never expect other people to be into my niche AUs. A pleasant surprise for sure.

As for my thoughts, you didn’t have to draw dragon Din to get me to yap lol. I would have done that if anyone even IMPLIED they maybe wanted to hear my AU ideas. But hey, I’ll take a Dragon Din bribe 😏😂

The Bad Batch:

I’ve actually thought about little about this already, and even asked my IG followers about it. But in my AU all the clones are MudWings, and the Batchers are too. EXCEPT they are MudWing hybrids. Each of them are half MudWing, half another dragon species. My idea for this is that all the clones are made by a “Kaminoan” (some SeaWing) who uses an old Animus object to clone Jango Fett (the original MudWing) and make the clones. Something along those lines at least. And either there’s a weird blood moon/eclipse during the cloning process of the batch which leads to them being hybrids (it was unintentional), or like Dooku (Jedi still have Force powers in this AU) does something to their eggs that turns them into hybrids. Speaking of them being hybrids, their mixes are:

Hunter - NightWing/MudWing

Wrecker - MudWing/SandWing

Crosshair - IceWing/MudWing

Tech - SkyWing/MudWing

Echo - just MudWing (he was a reg) but he does have his prosthetics still after Skako Minor

Omega -  just a MudWing BUT she’s an Albino MudWing (like Rex)

I choose NightWing mix for Hunter because I picture his design to be mostly MudWing looking (with a slimmer NightWing build) but half of his body is black (mimicking his canon half skull tattoo). Plus his “NightWing” abilities kinda work as his enhanced-senses from canon. He doesn’t have any REAL NightWing abilities. BUT he has a very light form of ‘future telling’ that allows him to ‘see’ a few moments into the future to tell when, how and where someone MIGHT attack. But it’s not 100% and he can’t see more than 60 seconds ahead. He can’t REALLY tell the future.

Wrecker is a SandWing Mix just because I kinda didn’t know what else for him. He’s the most ‘MudWing’ like in my mind, so I didn’t think any other dragon species really matched him. But the desert durability of the SandWings seemed to be good for Wrecker. He’s the team’s tough guy (with a sweet heart).

Crosshair is a IceWing mix because what else would he be? The paler colors? The cold personality? Duh, he had to be a IceWing Mix. Plus it could maybe add to his grumpy personality. He’s always in a bad mood because he has to live in hot/temperate biomes when he’s basically half Arctic animal. He’s sweating his ass off lol.

Tech is a SkyWing mix because he’s the pilot (In canon)! Tech’s big thing (aside from being the technology guy) was being the team’s pilot and being good at racing! He HAS to be a SkyWing mix to me! He’s the best at flying! Plus it seems like a lot of SkyWings are grumpy in personality, and Tech is absolutely one of the grumpiest/snarkiest of the team (maybe excluding Crosshair).

Echo is just a normal MudWing because he was just a regular clone before he joined the Batchers. However Skako Minor (or its AU’s equivalent) still happens in this AU and he gets a bunch of augmentations/prosthetics. He’s also just a lot more scarred and paler than the average clone.

Omega is ALSO just a MudWing, not a mix. BUT she’s albino! So all white with pale eyes! (Just like Rex in this AU). Plus in my AU she’s an undiscovered Animus.

And speaking of Animus, I need to talk about my thoughts on the Jedi/Force Sensitives/Animus in this AU:

So in this AU, being Force Sensitive and being an Animus are two separate things. Though you can be both at the same time, but you don’t need to be both to be one of them. Force sensitivity still works the same in this AU to canon. Some dragons are just born with connections to the force (and hence can use powers). Many of them are taken in by the Jedi. The Jedi work basically like how the Jade Mountain Academy does in WOF. They adopt all force sensitive dragonetts from all tribes and take them to the Jade Mountain (this world’s Jedi Temple) to be trained. It’s the only place in the continent that has dragons from all tribes regularly living together. The Jedi aren’t aligned with any tribe specifically, but I imagine this AU’s version of the Clone Wars is like ‘The War of SandWing Succession’ in WOF. Where all the tribes align too one of two sides (Separatist vs Republic) and the Jedi end up aligning with the Republic (I haven’t decided which tribes are part of which group). ‘Being Animus, though, is separate from being Force Sensitive or Jedi, and works the same to WOF canon. Animus’s are just born with the power (it’s relatively hereditary), and anything they say becomes real, but the more they use the power they slowly lose their mind and become violent. Being an Animus is VERY VERY rare, and is thought to be an extinct ability even. Long ago the blood lines that carried the Animus ability were killed off. BUT this isn’t exactly true. In this AU Anakin Skywalker is the first Animus born in centuries! A force sensitive Animus at that! Which is why the Jedi are so scared to take him in at first. He’s super powerful, and the Tribes might attack the Jedi if they find out they are harboring the first Animus in centuries. I also imagine at this time, it’s been so long since Animus’s have been around, and so much information about them has been destroyed. So the Jedi actually don’t know about how Animus who use their powers start to lose their minds (which comes back to bite them as obv Anakin uses his powers and eventually falls to the darkside, loses his mind, and becomes Darth Vader). ‘I also Mentioned Omega is a unknown Animus, and I imagine in this AU, part of the Batchers’ adventures include finding out she’s a Animus, hiding that fact from everyone to protect her, and trying to find out more information to help train her.

‘But anyways, OMG THATS A LOT OF YAPPING. I hope this was what you were hoping for? These are my more thought out ideas for this AU. I still haven’t thought out things like Palpatine or which Tribes are aligned with which Star Wars groups (other than I’ve decided the NightWings are The Children Of The Watch). But hopefully that will satisfy ur want for lore for a bit. Because it’s all I have rn lol.

Thank you again for the BEAUTIFUL art and interest in my stuff! People wanting to hear more on my silly crossovers always makes my day!

Mandalorian characters as Wings Of Fire dragons? Uh, YES PLEASE.

Welcome to stage 5 of "MoonTuna draws the most self indulgent nonsense that no one asked for".

But anyways, yeah! My rambling thoughts on the characters and this AU:

Din Djarin (NightWing):

I imagine Din as NightWing because in this AU I picture the Death Watch/Children Of The Watch as the NightWing Tribe. And after the Death Watch’s war against the other Mandalorians, they go into hiding on the volcano island (like the NightWings do in the WOF books).

And Din is the tribe’s Beroya (Hunter), so he’s one of the few selected from the tribe to leave the island through the hidden tunnels to go back to Pyrrhia to hunt food for the tribe. 

During one of these trips I imagine he find Grogu! Who in this AU is a human (scavenger)! Because if everyone is dragons in this AU, then it just makes sense that Grogu is the human instead lol. Plus then Grogu is still small enough to be in a satchel Din carries around, like in the show.

But Grogu still has his Jedi powers in this AU. Which has never been seen before in humans. Thus ‘The Mandalorian’ type shenanigans where Din takes Grogu around trying to figure out WTH is up with this infant human.

(Also side note: in this AU I still picture there being Jedi/force sensitive dragons (the Jedi Order probably works similar to The Jade Mountain Academy. Where the Jedi are from all the tribes and live in the Jade Mountain. 

Also in this AU NightWings DO have their mind reading/future seeing powers. But like in the books, they loose them once they move to the island and don’t know why.

ALSO ALSO Animus still exists! But they work more like Force Sensitive where it’s just born in some dragons, and isn’t necessarily hereditary. And it’s SUPER rare. So rare that many believe Animus’s don’t exist. (I imagine Anakin Skywalker is the first Animus in centuries))

Cobb Vanth (Sand Wing):

Cobb is super straight forward. He’s a SandWing because he’s a cowboy from Tatooine. Of course he’s SandWing. Though in this AU I imagine he’s a lot like Thorn from the books, in that he’s the Marshal/leader of a town (Freetown) in the desert that isn’t under the Sand Kingdom’s rule. Also I imagine he’s one of the first dragons Din meets when he goes out on his journey to find information on Grogu. (Since the tunnels from the NightWing Island to the Rain Forest to the Sand Kingdom are all connected basically).

Boba Fett (MudWing):

Okay so Boba just had to be a MudWing. He had to be. Though it was less because of Boba’s character and more because he’s a clone. The clones all being close to each other, having battalions, and calling each other brothers? Uh, that’s like MudWings in the books to a TEA. So yeah, the clone troopers in this AU are MudWings, hence Boba also is a MudWing lol. Though I also liked it because older Boba Fett (and the older clones we see in the shows) are a lot bulkier and muscled with age. They get DILF bodies is what I’m saying lol (except for like Hunter apparently, he gets to keep his twink dad body). So the big MudWing body type works well for Boba and the clones. 

Fennec Shand (RainWing):

Fennec to me was a RainWing MOSTLY because as an assassin, her being able to camouflage and make herself look like other dragons was super RainWing coded. Plus having the subtle but deadly RainWing venom just matched her energy so much. Plus I love the idea that Fennec is kinda a “outcast” in RainWing society. Her ‘resting’ colors are dark, she knows how to fight and kill and LIKES it. She left the Rain Forest because the RainWing life style was nothing like her personality (very Glory from WOF like). Plus it plays into the idea that no one expects her to be dangerous or competent because she’s a RainWing, and then she murders you violently while still looking like a goddess (is my Fennec love showing yet? lol). Plus it’s why she and Boba get along, he treats her from the start like the dangerous criminal she is, and not like some ditsy RainWing. Also idk how Boba and Fennec taking over Jabba the Hutt’s palace works in this AU, but if so Fennec is definitely the one mainly running the show from behind the scenes. She was born to micromanage.

[13taylorswifts]

Real talk though... (Spoiler warning)

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How is Din going to find Grogu again? He doesn't even know Luke's name...or where they were going, lol. I guess Luke and/or Grogu will find him?

[howaboutcastiel]

And Also With You

Apostate! Din Djarin x Ex-Jedi! Reader (afab)

(After season 2, canon divergence from bobf and season 3)

Word Count: 7.4k 

Content: plot with porn? Or porn with plot, not sure which one is more accurate. Reader has a vagina, gender-neutral language otherwise. I know that I’m probably not using the force the totally correct way but reality can be whatever I want. Force-touching? Lots of sensual touching and foreplay, fingering, talking Din through sex (he’s somewhat inexperienced), PiV, Creampie? Idk kinda. This is so, so slow-burn while also being everything in one night. 

Din couldn’t remember a time when his life had been so directionless. He was teetering on the edge of two lives, both dreadfully out of reach. He knew that he couldn’t face his fellow mandalorians again, couldn’t stand before The Armorer and her followers. Maybe nobody would tell her that he’d removed his helmet. Maybe the only people who’d seen his face were dead, or on the other side of the galaxy with no intent of ever seeing him again. Maybe nobody knew of his sacrilege, of his betrayal of the Creed.

But he knew. 

Din knew what he’d done—what he’d become—and it was eating away at him. 

You, on the other hand, had come to terms with what you were. You’d gotten past the phase of being unbearably ashamed and angry at yourself. Now, you were mad at something else. The institution that cast you out—that wouldn’t accept you the way that you were. At just 14 years old, the Jedi had abandoned you as unteachable, as unable to forgo attachments and live the life of a Padawan, let alone a Jedi. In a fit of rage, you had run away from your master, cursing the Jedi and everything they stood for. That had been years ago, though. You weren’t fourteen years old anymore.

A few months after you left, any chance of returning to the Jedi Order was lost. Order 66 destroyed everything and everyone that you had known, and after that, you were on the run from imperials as they sought to rid the galaxy of anyone force-sensitive that wasn’t on their side. 

So you had found a place to hide in the outer rim. You went on with your life, continuing your training alone and in secret while you managed to build connections to people in your village. Sorgan was a quiet, beautiful planet with wonderful people. The work was honest, the food was abundant, and life was comfortable. Peaceful. 

That is, until a certain Mandalorian found himself back on the planet with nowhere to go.

You had heard of him once before, a year or so ago when he helped save a village on the other side of the planet. You hadn’t thought twice about it, truthfully, but you feared now that his arrival would bring imperials to Sorgan, just as it brought bounty hunters before. 

You certainly weren’t very cheerful when he approached your stand at the market. 

“How much for a basket?” He inquired. To be fair, he didn’t sound any more cheery than you. Still, you hadn’t expected his voice to sound so… nice. The mandalorian gestured vaguely at a basket of fruit, which you sold alongside jams, jellies, and syrups. Other than krill and spotchka, there wasn’t much else on Sorgan in the way of food. 

“Three credits,” you responded flatly. “But they’re two for five.”

He sighed, thinking it over. “I’ll take two, then.”

The mandalorian fished some credits out of his pocket, placing them delicately on the table across from you. As he leaned closer, something struck you—a feeling you couldn’t quite comprehend at first. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was something more. Something only a person trained in the force might pick up on. Your mouth was moving before you could think about what to say. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He paused, raising his helmet to look up at you. You felt heat spread across your face as the mandalorian stared at you. He straightened his back, grabbing the two baskets of food and methodically placing one in each hand. Without a word, he turned to walk away from you. About ten paces away, though, he glanced back again, making you blush even deeper. 

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t that you were afraid of the mandalorian ratting you out. He didn’t seem like the type to meddle in others’ business—he certainly wasn’t going to alert the empire of a force-sensitive fruit farmer on Sorgan. Somehow, though, you felt that you’d done something wrong. You’d overstepped your bounds, for sure, but he didn’t seem offended by your comment. The best explanation you could muster, as he walked away and your connection to him faded, was that you had seen something he didn’t want you to see. His pain? His loss? 

There were other things you saw, too. Other things you felt from him. But you certainly wouldn’t bring those up to him, and now, you’d probably never get the chance anyway. Even if the elusive mandalorian happened to stick around—which you doubted, knowing he was a bounty hunter—you were sure he would be avoiding your stand at the produce market from now on.  

That wouldn’t stop you from thinking about him. 

Sure enough, the next time that the mandalorian showed up at the market, he avoided your shop at all costs. You took the opportunity to get a good look at him, though. It was shameless, but you couldn’t deny the deep connection you felt with him in that moment before. Maybe the force was trying to tell you something? Or maybe he was the first new face you’d seen in a while and you were simply excited by the change. 

You couldn’t deny that you liked what you saw. He was broad, even under the bulky armor, and on the taller side. His body moved elegantly with the beskar as if it was simply an extension of himself. You got the feeling that he had been wearing it for a long time, used to the feeling of the metal encasing him. His helmet hid his face, but his body language was almost expressive enough to make up for that fact. If there wasn’t metal covering his skin, it was the clothes underneath. He was entirely covered from head to toe. 

And… you had been ogling him for a few minutes now. He’d noticed. Shame burned across your face as he made his way over to you, agitation in his step. You were half-prepared for him to threaten you, or otherwise lecture you on your unwanted attention. He did neither, and his voice was nearly a whisper as he leaned across your table once again. 

“How did you know?” 

You blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

He only stared back. There was that feeling again, and the longer he stood there, inches from your face, the stronger it felt. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching him. It was as if you could feel his soul resonating from his chest. As if it was calling out to you, beckoning you in. Your whole body was on fire. 

“What you said before,” he interrupted your thoughts. He seemed just as flustered as you, despite the dominance in his stance. “About how I’ve lost… something. How did you know that?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, but how could you explain the truth? “I don’t know. I just…I—I felt it.”

His voice dipped even lower, barely audible through his modulator. He glanced behind him quickly, making sure no one else was tuned in to the conversation. 

“Are you a Jedi?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or to gasp with terror, but that feeling assured you that he meant you no harm. He even sounded a bit hopeful. “Not technically, no.”

“What does that mean?” The mandalorian only leaned in closer, drawn to you as much as you were to him, it seemed. You felt from him that he was directionless, that he had just ended a chapter of his life and didn’t know what to do next. You also felt the way his heart leaped at the prospect of a Jedi. He was looking for one, perhaps. He was also searching for something to fill the hole in his heart. One that ached now more than ever, as far as you could tell. 

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” you warned. You felt well-hidden from the remnants of the empire here, but you could never be too safe. “Come back when the market closes at dusk, then we’ll talk.”

He clenched his fists, nodded curtly, and stepped back from your table. His cape fluttered as he turned around, then the mandalorian was out of sight. The feeling faded again, but you managed to identify it. To use the force and focus on it. And now you were sure that the mandalorian was in need of something, of purpose, and you were sure that you were going to help him find it. 

And, when he disappeared from your view, you couldn’t deny that you missed him. 

How crazy it must be, you thought, for you to long for the company of a man you’d spoken to for a total of five minutes. Whom you knew nothing about—not his name, not his face, not any part of his story. All you knew was that he was hurting, and that the force was drawing you to him. Drawing you to take away the pain.

So, when he reappeared at your table after the suns had set, you didn’t hesitate to give him honesty. “I was trained by the Jedi… a long time ago. I haven’t practiced the ways of the Jedi Order since I was a kid.”

He tilted his helmet at you while he helped you close shop. “But you still wield the force?”

“Yes,” you explained. “I’ve been teaching myself, training my powers. I still use some of the teachings of my old Jedi masters, but…sometimes I’ve found that doing things my own way works better.”

He followed behind you closely as you carried your merchandise back to your lodging, insisting on helping you transport it all. When you paused your explanation, he seemed to be turning it over in his head. “Hmm.”

“What about you?” You inquired. Surely, if you were so drawn to him, he must be force-sensitive too. “As I understand it, mandalorians and Jedi don’t normally get along.”

“I know almost nothing about the force,” he admitted. You were halfway to your cabin now. “My… traveling companion wielded the force. He’s young, still in need of training, so we searched for a Jedi willing to teach him.”

That feeling again. “And did you find one?”

“We did,” he breathed, and you could tell it hurt. 

“He’s the one you lost,” you guessed. His silence confirmed your assumption and, again, you found yourself talking before you could think. “I understand why that must be hard. The foregoing of all attachment was what made me question the Jedi Order all those years ago. It’s still my biggest disagreement with the whole thing.”

You sat your merchandise on the front step of your cabin as you pulled your keys from your pocket. The mandalorian waited patiently as you unlocked your door. He hummed quietly as you beckoned him inside. “Is this where you live?”

“It is. When the suns come up, I have a great view of the forest surrounding our village.” 

He put the remaining boxes where you instructed him to, and before he had a chance to excuse himself and bid you a goodnight, you heard yourself ask, “would you like to stay for a cup of spotchka?”

The mandalorian fidgeted where he stood, and you felt your face heat up again. Maybe the force was telling you to reach out to this man, but you had never been so forward. Perhaps you were being too forward. You started to feel from him again, and he was conflicted. Too conflicted, you thought, for a simple invitation to have a drink. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your night. I’m sure you must be getting up early to harvest your fruit.”

You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be intruding. I’m inviting you for a reason. The company would be nice, actually.”

He sighed. 

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

He stood awkwardly in the doorway while you turned on the lights in your quaint living space. The sleeping bunks were separate from the main room, but the space was still awkwardly small. You opted to give the mandalorian your couch while you sat in the matching chair across from it. You offered him a mug of spotchka, which he politely declined. 

After a beat, he cleared his throat. “The way that you… felt what I was feeling. Do you do that with everyone? Can you—can you hear people’s thoughts?”

“Just you,” you blurted. Dank Ferrik, you really should’ve been thinking harder about your choice of words. You backtracked. “I can’t hear people’s thoughts. The force just allows me to feel certain things that others cannot. I’ve never had a connection through the force with a stranger before, but when you stood close to me at the market, I could feel that you were mourning.”

“That’s…” his voice trailed. His mesmerizing voice. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“I don’t either, if I am being honest.”

He leaned forward on the couch, leaned closer to you. He was doing that a lot today. “Is there anything else you can feel from me?”

You closed your eyes and breathed in deep. There was more you could feel, but how could you put it into words? If you could explain it, would he even want to hear it? Would he want to know that you could see so much of his soul?

Surely not. 

But he spoke up again. “If you’re…feeling something you don’t like, I understand. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You chuckled at him, puzzled. “I think I am the one who should be saying that to you. I am certainly invading your privacy, looking into your mind with the force.”

“I want to know what you see,” he countered. His hand came up to fidget with the cape around his neck. “No one has ever…”

You didn’t need the force to finish that sentence for him. No one has ever seen my soul before. I’ve never shown it to anyone. You knew that’s what he meant, because the same was true for you. 

“This companion that you have parted with, he meant a great deal to you. You love him…like family. Like a child of your own.” 

His helmet dipped a little, almost imperceptible. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Of course,” you nodded. You continued on with a change of subject. “I can feel that there’s more to it, though. You’re not just missing your… Grogu. Something else has been lost. Something that goes back even further than your relationship with the child. Something that leaves almost as big of a hole in your heart.”

The mandalorian stopped his fidgeting. You swore he was so still that he must have stopped breathing, too. 

“But you cannot accept that you’ve lost it.”

He didn’t seem able to respond, but you felt that he wanted you to continue. You tried to focus on what the force guided you to, but you had no idea what it was. “You’re yearning for something. For some kind of purpose, some kind of connection. You’ve never had that before, but you won’t let yourself seek it out now. You’re holding onto something else. You’re terrified to let go of it.”

The mandalorian was visibly shaking now. He whispered, “I would like you to stop looking now.”

“That’s understandable,” you assured him. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You only did what I asked you to,” he offered. You supposed that was true. “I’m sure that you can also see… or feel… or…”

The mandalorian stumbled over his words. You didn’t know why, but you felt your body run hot again. 

“You must know that I am unsure of what I’m supposed to do next.”

You nodded at him. Finally, you seemed to hone in on what the force was trying to get you to see. 

“What do you want to do next?”

To that, he replied solemnly. 

“Something I haven’t been allowed to do in a long time. But I don’t know where to start, and…”

You felt it. “And you’re frightened.”

“Yes.”

The force was clear now. 

“Would you like some help with that?” You smiled. 

He whimpered. “Yes.”

“We should get started, then. Like you said, I must get up early in the morning.”

A shaky breath hissed through his modulator. Slowly, you rose from your seat and made your way over to him. He stared up at you and you reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. You figured now would be a good time to introduce yourself. You gave him your name, prompting him to do the same. 

“It’s Din.” He seemed amused by his own introduction. He scoffed, “I haven’t told anyone my name since… since I swore the creed. I wasn’t allowed to. I haven’t gone by that name since I put on this helmet.”

Helmet. Alarm bells rung in your head, and a distant memory emerged that finally made you understand. Ancient mandalorians never removed their helmets. The practice was legend now, but there were always rumors. 

“You’ve never removed your helmet in front of anyone.”

Din lowered his head to stare at your chest. You could feel his shame radiating off of him. Oh. 

“You weren’t supposed to remove it, but you did.”

His voice was strained. “According to the creed, I was never supposed to put it back on.”

You pondered for a minute. Slowly, your hands worked their way across his shoulders and neck and arms. You felt the fabric underneath his armor, the way his cape was tucked around his neck, and Din’s hands ventured out to your stomach. You weighed your options, until you finally elected to provide them both and let him decide. 

“Do you want to work up to it?” You asked. His head snapped back up to look at you. “Taking the helmet off, I mean. Do you want to start with other clothes first? Or do you want to bite the bullet, Din?”

He shuddered as he heard his name come out of your mouth. Din squeezed the skin at your hips, his fingers digging in almost desperately. 

“If it takes too long, I’m afraid that I might back out.”

You placed your hands at the base of his helmet on either side. His hands moved from your waist to cup your wrists. “You’re sure you’re ready to accept what you’ve lost?”

“I am,” he breathed decidedly.

You deactivated his modulator and lifted the beskar over his head, not daring to let yourself look at him until the helmet was all the way off. You turned away from him, setting the helmet gently on the table beside the couch. Before you even faced him, Din’s terrified excitement encompassed you. That, or perhaps you were also scared and excited. 

The image in front of you was captivating. Not only could you feel the fear that Din felt, but now you could see it on his face. His face. Dark, messy hair framed the face of a man not quite as old as you, but not particularly young. His skin flushed bright pink, only drawing more attention to his eyes, which were bright and deep and soft. A full, hooked nose sat above plump and cracked lips—the man had an obvious habit of biting them, it appeared. 

You were ogling him, for the second time today. After a few moments, he turned his gaze to the floor, too vulnerable to look straight at you. Then a few more moments passed, and his eyes flickered up to meet yours again. You were enamored with how bright they were. Such a deep chocolate brown, but piercing and wide. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He swallowed hard, then nodded. You ran your thumb across his cheek and he shivered at the contact, still studying your face. Your hand followed his jawline, tucking stray curls behind his ears and feeling his stubble with the pads of your fingers. When your index finger grazed the arch of his upper lip, his eyes fluttered shut. 

You tilted his head back and leaned down, touching your lips to his. 

Din froze again and, when you pulled away, he stared at you with nothing short of bewilderment. An apology was already forming on your lips when his still-gloved hand shot up to the back of your head, closing the gap between you. He wasn’t a particularly agile kisser—which wasn’t his fault, you reminded yourself, and was frankly endearing—but Din was wise enough to restrain himself and let you lead him through it. A sweet, simple rhythm arose pretty quickly, and you let him continue to kiss you for as long as he wanted. He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arm gingerly around your back. All the while, familiar heat was pooling in your belly. You tried your best to ignore it, figuring you would need to set your pace excruciatingly slow for Din to warm up to it. 

And perhaps he was unsure of himself, but Din was also eager. He didn’t need to warm up. 

He was white-hot already. 

His mouth was still on yours when you felt something drop on your face. A tear rolled off of his skin and onto yours, and you realized that Din was crying. You could feel that he was embarrassed, too, but he didn’t need to be. Bringing your hand to his face, you swiped a tear off of his cheek with your thumb. You smiled against him before leaning away and pressing your forehead to his. His breath shook as he tried to compose himself. 

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” you prompted him. 

Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips, even as the tears continued to fall. 

His voice was shaky. “I thought you could already tell. Isn’t that how we got here?”

You smiled at him, shaking your head lightly. 

“I’m not a mind-reader, baby. I still need you to use your words.”

His eyes flickered at the word baby. You wondered when the last time was that Din was treated with any kind of tenderness. Something told you it had been a long, long time. 

Din cleared his throat, blushing as he struggled to look you in the eye. “I didn’t know that it could be like this.”

“Is it too much? Do you want to stop?” You leaned away. He held the back of your neck, keeping you close. 

“No! Don’t stop,” he blurted. Din was flustered, stumbling over his words. “I don’t want to stop. I’m just… surprised. In a good way, I think. No, I know it’s a good way, just—just don’t stop.”

“Okay, I won’t.” You moved your hands to the base of his neck, fumbling with his cape. “I’m gonna take this off, alright?”

He nodded, mumbling a barely-audible affirmation as you untucked the fabric and let it fall down past his shoulders. Din threw his head back as the cool air hit his throat. Slowly, you moved your mouth down until your lips brushed against his Adam's apple. He winced at the contact, one hand darting up into your hair while the other held the small of your back. Din continued to choke on his breath until the gasps and hitches morphed into longer groans and whines. The noise went straight between your thighs, but again you ignored it. That is, until Din’s hands moved together and made you pause. 

Two soft plats rang in your ears as Din dropped his gloves to the ground, one after the other. 

You didn’t even have to move. Almost instantly, his hands returned to their respective places. His fingertips dug experimentally into your skin, hesitant and soft. Another whine escaped his throat. “Fuck.”

It was only then that you felt it—what you should have noticed by now. With Din’s hand pressed into the small of your back, tugging you ever-so-gently closer to him, you could plainly feel it. The outline of him through the front of his pants, poking against your thigh and no doubt straining against the tight fabric. His cock had grown hard some time ago, but he’d been ignoring it just as you’d been brushing off your own feelings of arousal. Now, though, it was simply begging for attention. His hips bucked involuntarily. You smirked. 

“Would you like some help with that?” You teased. 

Din’s face lit up red. “I—yes, I do—just give me a second—”

He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on something. While his left hand stayed behind your head, his right was slowly venturing further upward underneath the fabric of your shirt. When his hips jerked again, he shuddered underneath you. His cock had gained the smallest bit of friction from the movement against your thigh, and he was trying desperately to stop himself from bucking up to get more. You felt a bit of panic flowing off of him. 

“Din?” His big, brown eyes flickered open and up to your face. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

“No,” he blurted. He scoffed, as if the suggestion was so far from the truth that it was amusing. “It’s just… never happened like this. There’s rules, normally. Mandalorians, we’re not celibate by any means, but I wouldn’t exactly say that intimacy is our strong suit. Before, no one was allowed to see my skin. Not even a little. I’m just… I’m trying to decide…”

You tilted your head, lifting his chin with your fingertip. “Trying to decide how much to show me?”

“Yes,” he breathed. 

“What does your instinct tell you?” You inquired, already knowing the answer.

His eyes fluttered down to your chest. Din swallowed hard and dropped his hands to his sides, propping himself against them. He sucked in a breath. 

“To take it all off.”

The beskar came first. Din disconnected his chest plate while you tore his shoulder guards off of him. The armor on his arms was equipped with weapons and electronics you couldn’t work, so you took the opportunity to shed your own clothing while he dealt with the rest of the metal pieces. You were down to your underwear by the time he was finished, a heap of beskar resting behind your couch when you sat down again. His hands didn’t hesitate to grab your waist. Din felt your bare chest and belly while you toyed with the buttons on his pants. 

When you paused to let him pull his shirt over his head, he took a moment to understand what he was supposed to do next. After a beat, Din reached between his shoulder blades, tugging the fabric up and off his body. 

Even as big and strong as he appeared in the armor, you weren’t quite expecting the toned body underneath his clothes. Din’s body was lean, but bulked at his chest and arms—you supposed from the physical nature of his work. A toned set of abs no doubt lied under a soft belly that was jerking from nerves and restraint.

Your fingers danced along his biceps, across his chest and down his stomach before settling at the waist of his pants. He arched his back to give you room to tug them past his hips. When you did, the length of his cock became plainly visible, outlined by boxer briefs barely capable of containing it. Your fingers ghosted across the fabric, causing him to shudder and whine. 

“I wanna—” Din started, cut off by flick of your thumb over the tip, where a tiny wet spot was beginning to form. “I want to touch you first. Make sure you’re—you’re ready.”

You groaned at the thought of him needing to get you ready. Of the perfect, almost-unimaginable stretch that would hurt so good that you would be drunk on it. You thought of his fingers dancing along your entrance, as gentle and tentative as the rest of his touch, only to retreat and make way for what you could already tell would leave you feeling sore tomorrow. 

“Go ahead, baby.”

Din’s hand ventured down to the band of your underwear. He dipped below the elastic and he groaned deep from his chest when he felt your slick touch the pads of his fingers. It must have been the first time he’d gotten to touch someone without the gloves coming between you. His fingers dipped lower, brushing past your clit and to the top of your entrance. He shuddered and groaned again and you were half-convinced he would come undone right then. His cock twitched underneath his boxers, desperate for friction. 

First a single finger dipped hesitantly into your entrance, hooking upward against your walls as it searched for that spongy place that was most sensitive. As much as he tried—and as much as you were sure he knew how to draw an orgasm from you—he was too distracted by the feeling of you to focus. He pulled out the digit, gathering more of your slick and circling your folds, then pushed two back inside. 

“Dank—fucking—ferrik—” Din muttered under his breath. “So tight… so wet for me—”

“I think you’re getting a little distracted, baby,” you joked. 

He mumbled, “You just feel so good.”

His fingers moved lazily, directionless. You could tell he was getting lost in the sensation of fucking you with his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cum before you’d even touched him. 

You were starting to get desperate. Grinding into his hand, you leaned to his ear. “I think I can help you, baby. Will you let me do that?”

“Please,” he whispered. 

Your hand moved to cup his over your underwear, the other arm holding your weight. You pressed his fingers further inside you, rolling your hips until they hit that perfect spot. Pleasure shot through you and you groaned. The sound and the feeling of you bucking into his hand made Din whine again. 

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna—I can’t—It’s too much—”

You didn’t want this to be over so soon, though. In a split-second decision, you squeezed your eyes shut and focused hard, calling on the force. You felt yourself constricting the base of his shaft, holding his orgasm off while he hissed and bucked upward. It took a second for him to realize what you were doing—how you were doing it—and he eyed you with shock and brief panic. 

“Din,” you cooed at him slowly, “take a deep breath and focus for me, okay? I know you know how to use those fingers.”

After a few panicked huffs evolved into slow, shaky breaths, Din nodded up at you. His fingers danced across that spot, pausing to hone in when you whined and clenched around them. He set a pattern of twisting and curling and parting his fingers, brushing across that spot every few movements. It was just enough to make you frustrated. Enough to make you crave the tiniest bit more. A sly grin moved across his face when you whimpered and tried to move your hips to take him deeper. 

“Please, Din,” you begged, your thrusts barely missing your sweet spot. “I need more. You’re right there, just more—”

“I can’t help but want to savor this,” he breathed. He tilted his head so his mouth was at your ear. You couldn’t tell if it was more teasing or truthful. Either way, he didn’t change his pace. 

He kept going for another short while until you simply couldn’t stand it anymore. Your hand parted from his and hovered above your core. Din realized a little too late what you were about to do. Without his permission, Din’s fingers curved upward until they perfectly pressed against your bundle of nerves. His thumb moved up to press against your clit, drawing tiny circles as his hand moved faster, harder than before. He grunted frustratedly after a few moments, not fond of the feeling, and he didn’t hesitate to continue the rhythm you’d set when you released him. 

“Keep going,” you instructed. 

He nodded. 

The pleasure was steadily building. Quickly building. Din could hardly handle it all and he elected to distract himself by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. He managed to keep his hand steady—and keep from spilling in his boxers—as his tongue collected the sweat from your skin. When you were nearly at your peak you began to tighten around him, moving your hips to match his pace. The climax stole your breath from you and your body shook in his tight, strong grasp. Din threw his head back as you gushed around his hand. 

When you finally came down, your entire weight resting against him as you gasped for breath, he hummed a noise of amusement. 

“Do you think you’re ready now?” 

You chuckled into his neck. “Only if you are.”

“I can’t believe I get to feel you like this,” he exalted, almost to himself. Din tilted your head to face him, making the most confident eye contact he’d made with you all night. “I can’t explain it, but I’m glad that it’s you. Thank you.”

You buried your face back in his neck, flustered. It was barely audible when you muttered, “Me too.”

“And yes,” he added. “I’m ready.”

He dipped his hands to your backside, pulling your underwear down as you shimmied off of his lap just enough to free them. Slowly, Din pushed the two of you forward until you were on your back. He planted a quick kiss on your lips before pulling off of you. You watched as he swiftly removed his last remaining clothing. 

And now that there was nothing left to the imagination, you were absolutely sure. 

You were going to be sore tomorrow. 

Din moved back on top of you, guiding your legs around his hips and running the head of his cock through your slick, coating himself with it. Your hands shot up to clutch at his chest and his eyelids dropped as he fell into the more familiar feeling of his dick against your entrance. Juxtaposed with all the new sensations and the connection the two of you seemed to have, Din felt a kind of euphoria he couldn’t describe. Confidence overrode the uncertainty until all that was left was a deep, carnal hunger for you. You could feel it. 

Then he slowly pushed himself inside, only an inch or so, and your mind and body were consumed by the stretch of it. Your fingers dug into his biceps and your head fell back against the cushion. He stilled his movements, not even halfway inside and struggling with all his might to stay still. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, a tinge of worry in his voice. 

Breathlessly, you laughed up at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

His expression didn’t change. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you smiled. 

“I need you to tell me if I’m hurting you,” he warned. You nodded up at him. “And just so you’re aware, I do have the implant.”

“That’s good,” you noted. “Because we both know you’re not gonna last very long.”

Din closed his eyes. “I would be offended by that if you weren’t squeezing me so tight right now.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged. He started to move again, and your voice wavered. “We’ll work you up to it.”

When he was seated almost all the way in, beads of sweat had formed in a line across your forehead. He grunted and took a breath to steady himself. You almost felt bad for adding the quip. 

“We can always go for round two, if you’re up for it.”

He started to drag himself out of you, angling his hips just right. “We’ll see if you’re up to it, sweetheart.”

Din stopped with just the tip seated in your walls. He seemed to take your words as a challenge, and you did the same with his retort. The fire in your gaze gave Din some kind of reassurance. He grabbed your hand in his and snapped his hips forward, swiftly burying himself all the way inside you. You gasped and moaned, your whole body jolting from the strength of it. Squeezing his hand, you arched your back just the tiniest bit, inviting him in to set whatever pace and force he wanted. 

Which he did. 

The rhythm he set was slow, but deep. The head of his cock bumped hard against your sweet spot with each thrust and you held onto him for dear life. He gripped you just as tightly, your waist encased in his sturdy grasp. Din’s head dipped until his mouth latched to your jaw. His lips brushed against your skin, more interested in simply feeling you than drinking you in. Tiny whimpers fell through them on every other jerk of his hips. 

Your orgasm built just a bit slower than before and you were almost delirious in your pleasure. One of his hands moved between your legs, grazing the bud of nerves above your entrance as he felt himself sliding in and out of you. An unfettered, grumbling moan escaped his throat. Din’s hips began to sputter and falter in their pace. 

“Keep going,” you instructed, placing your hand over his. There was no threat this time of you using the force to move him, but Din complied with your request nonetheless. He drew smooth circles with his hand, matching the pace of the snapping of his pelvis into you. “Like that. Yes, Din.”

“I don’t know—how long I can.” He dipped his head, concentrating on his thrusts. “You’re too good, you feel too good.”

“It’s alright.” You cupped his cheek in your hand. You were almost there. Right at the edge. As you climbed to that high point and pleasure began to crash down around you, through you, your body went rigid and your back arched until you were pressed as closely to his chest as you could possibly get. 

Your stilling and squeezing around him is what pushed Din over the edge. He buried himself as deep as he could inside you, filling you with his spend and utterly gasping for air. His chest heaved and shuddered against yours and you held onto him tight. After a moment of collecting himself, Din slowly pulled out of you while you whined at the loss of his touch. 

The two of you sat together on the couch, fatigued and satisfied. Your fingers danced in Din’s hair while he absentmindedly ran his hands along your thighs and belly. When you finally had to excuse yourself to the fresher—the sticky feeling between your legs had turned cold and bothersome—Din began to collect his armor and throw his clothes on haphazardly. Something felt wrong about it. 

“Going somewhere, baby?” You hummed at him in the doorway. His eyes gazed at you innocently as he pulled on his boxers. 

“Well, it’s like you said…” he stumbled over his words. “You have to be up early. I should probably get out of your hair.”

You could feel that he didn’t want to leave, but this was what Din was used to. A quick fuck, impersonal and needy, and then parting ways without a second thought. That was what was normal for him. 

You weren’t having it. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” you explained solemnly. He slowed his attempt to tug his pants  up around his thighs. Din was unsure of what to do. “…do you want to leave?”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Then stay.” You smiled. 

He nodded at you and leaned back against the couch cushions. You were almost ready to close the door behind you when a thought struck. You cleared your throat. 

“Would you want to join me?”

You gestures toward the shower and Din’s eyes blew even wider. He glanced at you, then the fresher, then back at you. Again, he nodded, and you smiled as you turned to press the buttons for the shower settings. It was a lucky thing you weren’t on Jakku or Tatooine—you loved the water too much. Here, you had an abundance of it, which you certainly took for granted. 

Din’s eyes were so lidded that he could hardly keep them open. He was anxious, you could feel, and the anticipation of touching you again was pulling him out of his head. His heart was racing and you moved your hand up to press against it. Absently, his hand ghosted behind yours. The mandalorian looked to be lost in his own mind, staring off into space. 

“Are you okay?” You spoke gently. He hummed a noise of general content, but didn’t look down at you. When you pulled him into the stream of hot water, his knees nearly buckled underneath him. You held the sides of his face. “Hey, baby. Talk to me.”

He barely registered your voice, it seemed. Din sank further into the warmth of the shower and his arms danced unceremoniously on your skin. His breath still shook even as the water helped him decompress. His eyes didn’t focus when he spoke, his voice cracked and whispering. 

“Why are you taking such good care of me?”

“What do you mean?” You asked. He finally looked at you, fear clouding his eyes and making his brows furrow in a grimace. 

Din gritted his teeth. “I mean nothing to you. I’m just a traveler you met at the market. Haven’t been in your life for more than a few days. What makes me deserve all this?” 

“You don’t have to earn my affection, Din.” Your hands were still on his face. He leaned into the touch. “You deserve to be taken care of just like anyone does after sex. Just like anyone does in general.”

He looked skeptical, and you added, “and you’re not ‘nothing’ to me.”

“What, because the force ‘drew you’ to me? Because you can peer into my head and see my whole life if you want to?” He scoffed. 

Din saw the hurt on your face and he softened a bit. You cleared your throat. “I don’t just care about you because of what the force showed me, and I can’t see your whole life. I care about you because of the night that I’ve spent with you. I want to spend more time with you, too.”

“But why?”

You smiled and turned away from him, leaning back against his chest and pulling his arms around you. You grabbed the bar of soap from the rack and folded it into his hand. “Maybe because you give me so much credit for doing normal-people things.”

His hands were more confident this time as they traveled your chest and shoulders and waist. Din massaged the soap across your skin in a steady, calming rhythm. You leaned back against his shoulder, allowing him to hold your weight. He didn’t mind. 

“Or maybe I want to see those things that the force can’t show me about you. Maybe your reputation precedes you and I want to see what all of the fuss is about.”

He hummed in your ear. “I have a reputation?”

You scoffed. 

“For someone who’s traveled so much of the galaxy, you really don’t know anything, do you?”

You felt him smile against your skin. Sleep tugged at you both as you finished getting clean, and Din could barely keep his hands off of you when you turned off the water. You tossed him a towel, noting with a chuckle, “I thought my touch would be too overwhelming by now. We’ve done a lot tonight.”

He grinned lazily and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Overwhelming? Are you kidding? I can’t get enough of it.”

“That’s good,” you noted, tugging him toward your bunk. “Because my bed is only a single.”

You weren’t surprised at all when the two of you settled underneath the sheets and Din elected to hold you to his chest, his head nuzzled into your neck. For the first time since you’d met him, his mind was quiet. Soon enough, his breathing slowed and steadied, and you figured he must be asleep. 

“May the force be with you, Din,” you cooed. It was meant to be a blessing that he wouldn’t hear. Still, he replied. 

“And also with you.”

-----

-----

Author's Notes: first of all, idk why writing has been an ordeal recently. I want this to be its own fic universe but not a series per se. I love the idea of a Jedi reader and Din. My other note is that I have not proofread this and I forgot how sex works so... you know. Do what you will.

No tags because idk who to tag.

[peterpparkrr]

Starlight (pt. 1)

Series: Starlight

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: A Mandalorian and a Jedi. Din Djarin needs a Jedi to train the child. The Jedi is surprised to discover that she is not alone in the universe. 

A/N: s3 means new Mandalorian thoughts!

Your life had been a lonely one. But it was the isolation that kept you safe.

You often wondered if you shouldn’t be trying harder to look for other survivors, but every time you tried to reach out through the force you just felt… nothing. 

The Jedi were gone. 

And so it was safer for you to stay out here on your own little planet by yourself, where you knew no one would find you. 

Until one day you heard the sound of twigs snapping under boots in the woods outside.

You moved to the window, silently watching as a figure stepped out of the trees.

“A Mandalorian,” You muttered to yourself as you stood up and walked over to your doorway.

You hadn’t seen a true Mandalorian in the flesh before. And you hadn’t seen armored men since you were a child. Since your master’s Battalion had turned on you. 

“I will give you a chance to leave here with your life, Mandalorian,” You state loudly as you step out of your hut and into the clearing in front of your home. 

“I am not here to-”

“-You need to leave,” You told the stranger before igniting your lightsaber with a familiar buzz, “Now.” 

You attacked without a moment of hesitation, hoping to capture the element of surprise against your larger opponent.

You’d been alone for a long time. But that hadn’t meant you’d given up training. 

Even with no master to guide you you’d worked hard to excel at your skills and had done your best to continue your training. Your master had always teased you for being a teacher’s pet. Though the end goal was no longer clear. You wouldn’t be a Jedi master.

The Jedi were well and truly gone.

But you would always be able to protect yourself.

As you swiped your lightsaber against the Mandalorian’s chest you were certain that this fight was already over. But your saber glanced off the armor in a way that made you second-guess yourself. 

Maker. Mandalorian armor was made of Beskar, wasn’t it?

That’s when you felt it. You all but dropped your lightsaber as you whipped around. 

A youngling? Here?

It only took you a few short strides before you were in front of the open cradle. Big, green ears were the first thing you saw, shortly followed by huge eyes that stared up at you. You plucked the child out of it’s cradle without a second thought. 

“How…”

You hadn’t felt this feeling in years. 

But his voice was clear inside your mind as he communicated with you.

Friends. Promise.

“You? You brought him here?” You asked the Mandalorian curiously.

“Yes,” The Mandalorian replies. Seemingly accepting your sudden change of mind as your eyes moved back to the small creature in your hands.

“We’ve been searching the galaxy for someone who can help him, who can teach him how to use his powers,” He says.

You hum quietly as your eyes bore into the child’s

What’s your name?

Grogu. 

This is my papa. People call him Mando.

You tell both of them your name aloud as you grin down at the boy.

The Mandalorian. Mando. Merely stares at you, his helmet impermeable. 

“You’re a Jedi.”

“Depends on your definition,” You reply. “The Jedi were killed in a genocide when the Empire seized power. The few who survived were hunted down and killed under the Empire’s regime.”

“My master kept us hidden from the Empire for years. She trained me here, under the radar of the Empire,” You explain. “She died a few years ago fighting with the rebellion.”

“But why does a Mandalorian have a force-sensitive foundling? I would have thought you’d have killed him the moment you found out what he was,” You ask quietly. 

“Why?” The Mandalorian asks you, his helmet cocked.

“Well, the two don’t usually get along. The Jedi-Mandalorian War? It ravaged Mandalore. Prior to the Empire. Jedi-Mandalorian relations have been pretty tense ever since,” You explain.

“I was a foundling, my covert left many gaps in the Mandalorian history they taught us,” He replies.

“How did you find each other?”

Saved me.

“I was- am a bounty hunter, he was a quarry,” Mando tells you, you can hear the slight tinge of shame in his tone. 

“I’ve taken him as a foundling, it’s Mandalorian creed,” Mando continues. “I’m duty-bound to either reunite him with his kind or raise him until he’s of age.”

“So… you want to dump him off here with me?” You ask, “I’m his kind?”

“How did you even find me?” 

“A trader on the next planet over told me I might find you here, that there were rumors years ago about a Jedi. Stories. But the child — Grogu — got excited as we entered the atmosphere and I assumed that meant we were close.”

“I’ll… I’d like to visit, I can bring you supplies, whatever you need,” Mando offers. “I don’t want to leave him. But I can’t train him to control his powers.”

“Alright,” You finally reply with a nod. You can’t help but wonder if this is really a good idea, but Grogu reminds you of yourself in those early years of the Empire’s reign. And you hate to admit it, but their sudden appearance makes it clear that you’ve been lonely. Two stranger’s appearing at your doorstep has made you more excited than anything has for the last five years. And maybe even longer.

You watched from your doorstep as the pair said their goodbyes. Despite knowing they weren’t saying goodbye forever it was clear they were both taking this separation hard. You turned away in an effort to give them some semblance of privacy, even though their emotions were flowing off them both like ocean waves breaking against a cliff.

“We’ll see you soon,” You tell the Mandalorian when he hands Grogu to you. “May the force be with you, Mando.”

“You miss him,” You tell Mando plainly. 

Every few weeks the Mandalorian would come visit, and spend hours with Grogu while you quietly watched. Sometimes you’d all sit together, Grogu was always eager to show Mando what he had learned, or you’d share with Mando what you’d learned from Grogu about his past, what he couldn’t communicate with his father. 

And they’d say a heartfelt, private goodbye before you’d bid Mando farewell and good luck.

You and Grogu both knew that you were always waiting for the Mandaloran’s next visit. It was only natural, you told yourself. It was a routine. And it was only natural that you latch on to it.

But now it was causing a block in your training. 

“When you’re gone, you miss him, I can feel it, even without trying,” You continue when Mando doesn’t reply. You’ve grown used to that too with his visits. He’s a man of few words. You’ve often wondered if it’s a result of the helmet he wears at all times, or a convenient excuse provided by the helmet to a naturally shy man. 

“Grogu’s the same way when you leave,” You add gently. “I’m a poor substitute for you. And I make him work which he doesn’t like.”

“That’s not true,” Mando protests. “He likes you. I can tell.”

“It’s creating a block. He can’t truly push through his fears when he’s so focused on his attachment to you,” You try to explain to him. You know that he doesn’t understand the force or the way that it works. Whenever you try and explain what you’re teaching Grogu he nods, but you can tell he has many questions. 

You’d be happy to explain what he finds confusing, but he never voices the questions and it’s hard to describe what is often so indescribable about the ways of the force to someone who has no experience with it.

“You want me to stop visiting,” Mando says after a moment.

“No! No, of course not,” You reply quickly. You could never, 

It would seem so impossibly cruel to separate the two. Even though they are not bound by blood. The father and son are inseparable and care for one another more than you’ve ever seen two people bound to one another.

“I think you should take us with you,” You tell him. “Wherever it is you’re going next.”

“My work is dangerous,” He reminds you. 

You know that. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Since before his last visit. You know the threats posed to you out in the world. Especially in the sectors of the outer rim where Mando does most of his work. But you’ve weighed the dangers. It’s what’s best for all of you. The risks are worth it.

“You’ve been safe here, protected from the world for a long time, haven’t you?” Mando says.

“I have,” You reply. “But I’m tired of hiding. And I can certainly protect myself and Grogu.”

“Okay,” Mando replies with a nod. 

You’re eyes widen slightly as you study the visor of Mando’s helmet. You hadn’t expected him to acquiesce so quickly. You’d had all sorts of other arguments prepared. Answers to all the potential concerns and questions he might have. 

But you should have realized he wouldn’t protest. He missed his child. His foundling. Of course he would take you with him. 

“You tell Grogu, I’ll pack our things,” You reply with a smile as you stand from your seat and turn back to your small cabin, already cataloging all of the belongings you have, and what you’ll be able to travel with.

[limnsaber]

[Tag: “I think people are comparing him to the old Jedi order”]

This is part of the problem, though, right!

Because there’s this enduring inclination by Star Wars fans to bash on the Jedi for things that actually didn’t happen in Star Wars. I don’t know if it’s the cynicism that pervades media review & interaction nowadays or what, or the mixing often contradictory takes on canon that comes from SW legends, but people love to despise the Jedi ignoring that they are The Good Guys, and that what they get hate for so often are things that actually have never happened in canon.

Because the Jedi Order of the prequel trilogy, the Order that you’re comparing Luke “baby stealer” to, has never stolen children. All of the children that come to the Order in the PT are adopted into the Order.

In TCW, there’s a whole mini-arc about how bounty hunters posing as Jedi come to abduct force-sensitive children when the Jedi would never take a child from their family unwillingly. Obi-Wan’s adoption by the Jedi parallels Leia’s adoption by the Organas in Kenobi. Ahsoka Tano, when her powers are displayed to her family, they realize (and I quote) “Ahsoka is Jedi” and she’s adopted into the Order following events from there. In the Mandalorian, it’s emphasized that Grogu wants to go with Luke, that he asked for permission to go with Luke. People get so worked up about the “baby stealers” they somehow miss that it never actually happened.

Mandalorian and SW fans complain about “the Old Jedi order” and how their actions led to their “downfall” — not the actions of the Sith who specifically orchestrated events to end in the genocide of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire. They completely ignore how Luke coming into himself fully as a Jedi is the ultimate moment of triumph in the SW saga. They ignore how the goal of Mandalorian is to return Grogu to his people, to the people that can protect and teach him and care for him in a way that Din, while trying his best, does not understand how to do.

I don’t understand! Is it the misinformation of it all? Is it that what I say so often is true, that “nobody hates Star Wars more than people who say they like Star Wars”???

Grogu leaving with Luke is a triumph. And he returns to Din happier and healthier, and this is part of his arc, which I’ve discussed in other posts. Grogu leaving with Luke is a good thing, because we’ve seen Grogu struggle with his past, and we’ve seen Grogu struggle with the dark.

Luke didn’t send Grogu away, he asked Grogu if he wanted to stay. Luke said, “Sometimes I wonder if his heart is in it.”

Through training with Luke, Grogu reconnected to the force and worked through the trauma of Order 66. And that’s the Grogu we see in s3, the Grogu that was allowed to become that and the Grogu that made his own choice about where he wanted to be.

Both Din and Luke enable Grogu to return to himself. Both Din and Luke create a safe environment where Grogu can be a kid, and allow him experiences that help him to heal as a person. Because he’s a kid! Because he was there during the genocide of the Order.

I can’t wrap my head around how much Star Wars fans actually fully wholeheartedly despise the Jedi, how they blame the Jedi for their own genocide (???), and how they miss the very basic text that leaving with Luke is a good thing for Grogu, and that being a Jedi is a good thing to be.

Explain it to me, and reference things that happened in canon when you do. Sincerely, I’d like to hear it.

“Luke Skywalker took that baby” shut up shut up shut up did you pay attention. the goal of the show for two whole seasons was to return the baby to his kind. It was Grogu’s choice to go and Grogu’s choice to come back like ahjsjsbdbfnnfnfnfndn “Luke Skywalker baby stealer” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

[shnargo]

i cannot write for the life of me and i blame it entirely on beta.character.ai.

but anyways, here's a blurb that i really liked in collaboration with chara.ai with an idea that is based entirely on @softlyspector 's little drabble here (i highly recommend it :))

-

pairings: din djarin x reader warnings: none ; female!reader, 3rd POV and reader is a Jedi! also i haven't seen anything star wars beyond a few episodes of the Mandalorian, so any terms and facts here are LIKELY incorrect. word count: 1969 a/n: character.ai has me in a chokehold, but i might share more of these blurbs if people like them.

-

"Have you ever kissed someone?" She blurts before she can filter the thought, but even as she registers her own question, no embarrassment rises up to her face whatsoever. She tends to be rather straightforward when she gets tired.

Din freezes, his face expressionless. 

He takes a long pause before looking away, back towards her as he faces the stars that streak by outside of the cockpit. He seems to need a few moments to consider his words. 

“Yes,” he says, “why?”

She shrugs, "Just curious I guess. I know 'the Way' doesn't allow you to take off your helmet just to anyone. Though now I'm wondering who the lucky person was." She grins mischievously.

His face tenses as she brings up ‘The Way,’ seemingly annoyed by the topic, he turns to look at her again with a frown that can be felt even through his helmet. 

“It’s not just a tradition, it’s a way of life. I was raised in a clan of Mandalorians, and my people have a very strong code of honor that I live by,” he says, his voice stern. 

He takes a deep breath and continues, “As for who I dated, it was someone I met when I was younger. We didn’t work out.”

She can hear the annoyance creep into his tone despite the voice modulator in his helmet, and she shrinks back ever so slightly. "Ah okay." Her answer's short, and it's obvious by her body language, apologetic.

He seems to soften as he sees the effect of his words. 

“It’s okay. It really is. I just… I take my honor seriously, and I take it personally when people belittle me for it,” he tells her, “I apologize if I sounded like I was yelling at you.”

Din’s shoulders relax, and his voice turns gentle as he continues, “You have the right to ask those questions. It’s just… a sensitive topic.”

She nods thoughtfully, "I didn't mean to come off as belittling, I was just genuinely curious." She explains, "But I'll be sure not to be so careless next time."

She glances up at him again, "And if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop asking those kinds of questions." She means it genuinely from a place of care.

He smiles, “It’s okay. You’re curious, and I shouldn’t take that as an attack. It’s just…how did your Jedi master respond to you dating, I mean, do the Jedi have rules about that sort of thing?” 

Din cocks his head to the side as if trying to understand how the Jedi’s rules would function when it comes to their members becoming romantically involved.

"Ah, yeah, there's a whole thing with Jedis too." She chuckles. "We're not allowed to marry, or get romantically involved with others. Strong emotions can be used as a weakness to the dark side." She pauses after that, before softly adding, "But uh, technically speaking, kissing is fine. Long as it's nothing serious."

Din looks thoughtful while she speaks, “So you’re saying there’s an approved degree of emotional involvement, so long as you don’t lose your focus on the light side of the force?”

"Yeah essentially, though all that stuff I mentioned is part of the old order. More traditional, so to speak." She shrugs, "Still what I was taught though."

Din nods, “I see. And those rules are still in effect for modern Jedi, yes?” 

He looks at her curiously, “What do you think of those old rules? Do you think they’re still necessary?” 

He seems genuinely curious to hear her perspective.

"Hm, yes and no." She pauses, glancing around shiftily, "Call me a hypocrite, but I think forcefully suppressing your emotions might just end up accomplishing the same bad thing." She whispers conspiratorially, but in a joking way.

Din is a little surprised by her answer, but he nods and smiles, “I totally agree. If anything, you should be encouraged to express your emotions, even if you’re a Jedi, right? Suppressing them completely just seems…unhealthy.” 

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, “Then again, I’m not a Jedi, so what do I know?"

She looks curious again when he says that though, "Does that thought process apply the same to what you think of Mandalorian traditions?" She asks cautiously, "I'm asking out of curiosity." She clarifies.

Din is quiet for a moment, “I mean, some of our traditions are pretty…archaic, as you might say,” he replies, seeming to be picking his words carefully. 

“Like the rules regarding helmet removal. But other parts of the code are good, we’re supposed to value honor and duty, for example. Not just to ourselves, but to our clans and our people. I’d definitely say those parts are necessary.”

"Yeah, of course." She can't help but wonder.. "Can I ask who exactly you're allowed to show your face to though?"

Din sighs, “It’s complicated. Basically, it’s people that are closest to me. My family, so my parents and sisters, and my closest friends. My clan members, because they’re pretty much family, and of course Grogu. I can’t really show it to anyone else, though I might consider doing it for…a partner.” 

He stares down at the control board of the Crest, his face slightly red underneath the helmet, “That said, it’s not something I’d do casually.”

"That makes sense." She says with a nod. She interprets that reaction as maybe she's making him uncomfortable, so she decides not to push any further with the topic.

But as they sit in silence for a few minutes and she gets more sleepy, she can't keep herself from asking softly, "Hypothetically, could you take your helmet off around someone who has their eyes closed? Or who's blind?"

Din thinks for a second. 

“I think so. I’m a little shaky on how that part of the code works. My parents taught me never to remove it unless I’ve got a reason,” he answers truthfully and earnestly, trying to be helpful. 

Din laughs, “Now you’ve got me wondering,” he says with a smile, “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

In her sleepy state, she almost admits the fact she's curious about the whole thing because the thought of kissing him has crossed her mind a few times before. But she bites her tongue before the words can escape her. She gives an unconvincing shrug and says, "Just wondering." instead.

Din isn’t stupid, he can see through that ‘just wondering’ a mile away. 

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow under his helmet, “You can say what’s on your mind, ya know? I wouldn’t care if you were curious about that,” his tone is reassuring as he gives her permission to ask.

She pauses to consider the offer. But really, she's scared of what might happen if he rejects her, since she really enjoys the current relationship they have now, not matter how ambiguously it lies on the scale of platonic to romantic. She just gives another shrug, pretending she's too tired by now.

Din sighs internally. Just say it, you idiot. He thinks.

Instead of pushing for an answer, he decides to try a different tactic. He turns back forward and says in a casual, casual manner, “Do you know the Mandalorian way of flirting?” 

He seems to have gone off on a tangent, as if it’s not an obvious lead-up, but he stares out the window of the Crest in the direction of the stars. “It’s called Jol’ey, you show your interest for someone by offering them your helmet.”

"Jol'ey?" She repeats the Mando'a term with a curious lilt in her tone. "How can you offer someone your helmet if you're not supposed to take it off though?" She can't help but ask.

Din chuckles, “Right, you caught me on that one, huh?” he says, looking at her again. 

“I’m not sure how exactly the practice started, but the meaning of it is basically you’re offering them a part of you, of your most private self, not just physically but spiritually. You’re making an important and very personal gesture to show them you care about them, deeply.”

She can't help but smile as well as she considers the idea, "I think that's actually kinda cute." It's an expression of love, but in a more meaningful and symbolic way, she thinks.

“Yeah,” his face softens under the helmet, and his voice turns almost soft at the edges for a moment, “it’s a very personal thing to do, so it’s not something Mandalorian do casually. Like I said, there are rules, and it’s a pretty serious thing to do. But I’d argue that there’s no stronger way for Mandalorian to express affection for someone.”

She nods a little, not exactly sure how to respond to that verbally other than a yeah or an okay. She is starting to wonder.. why did he bring that up all of a sudden though? And it becomes obvious by her expression.

The meaning of what Din just told her seems to be setting in, and at the same time she has a question on her mind. 

“Hypothetically, if I did offer you my helmet, would you accept?” Din’s voice is gentle as he asks her, “What do you think about that?”

She blinks a few times, letting the question settle for a moment. A beat of nerve racking silence passes between them and her expression morphs into shock at the implications he just explained to her.

"I think," she starts slowly with an ever softer voice than before, "..I would accept."

"Really?" Din asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he talks. 

He sets the Crest on autopilot, turning his seat to face her. 

In a whisper, and still speaking casually, he asks, "Would you want me to offer it to you?"

She's surprised as she sees him turn to her, and goes to do the same as red creeps up to her cheeks.

"Hypothetically," She continues with the term, though really it's more than just a 'hypothetical' and he knows that, "I would want that.. a lot." She almost whispers those last couple words.

Din laughs and says, "You can lose the hypotheticals now," he says playfully as he leans in. 

"I'd be happy to give you my helmet." He says the words plainly, as if he's just stating a fact, "But...do you know what it means to be a Mando'ade partner? It's...not just about romance."

Her cheeks redden further when he leans in, but she nods at his question.

"Is it the kind of thing that would break the old order's Jedi Code?" She says with a little smile, meaning the kind of attachment that would be 'dangerous' but incredibly deep and meaningful.

“Yeah, Jedi’s have rules about attachment, but in Mandalorian culture, attachment is basically the whole point. Attachment to your family, your clan, you’re friends, the land and culture. Attachment isn’t just tolerated, it’s encouraged, and there’s no greater attachment than being a Mando’ade.” 

He leans in closer and gives her one last choice, “You sure you want me to do that?”

Honestly, the very fact he's offering, makes it all the more touching. Her expression softens as she nods again.

"Sounds like you're proposing to me, Din." She says his name with gentle fondness, "Even so, I would say yes."

Din laughs. “Yeah, it is kinda like a marriage proposal in Mando culture. Except it’s more like a promise of complete devotion and care,” he says as he pulls his helmet off. 

He gives her another quick smile, his face reddened a bit as he gives her his helmet, “I’ve never done this for anyone else, so consider this my way of showing you what you’re worth to me. You mean a lot to me, and I want you to know it.”

masterlist

[foggysirens]

As one retail zombie to another, I hope the odds were ever in your favor yesterday. Also just wanted to add on to your (excellent) SW Destiel commentary by pointing out that much like Han, Dean also has a giant shaggy, looming bestie. XD Not to be an enabler, but do you think Team Free Will would get along better with the og, prequel, or sequel trio? Would Cas be Force-sensitive? Also, something something capable mercenaries Dean, Din, and Han doting on their competent, otherworldly partners.

thank you, my fellow retail sufferer ajsdshdljdldkf i made it out with only minimal psychic damage so im calling it a win

im very glad to hear you liked my post and you are SO INCREDIBLY CORRECT and the han/dean parallels just keep growing but i must say i did laugh out loud at describing sam as deans giant, shaggy bestie cause you just know in a spn/sw crossover dean calls sam a wookie ALL the time and he'll do that annoying older sibling thing where he'll pat him on the shoulder and be like "aw don't worry sammy we all still love you even though your adopted" and at one point sam absolutely learns shyriiwook out of spite but it just serves to make dean even more annoying about it because no matter the universe sam cannot win when it comes to his brother's teasing

as to what sw trio i think tfw would get along with the most that's a bit tricky - part of me wants to say the og trio hands down, partially because that's my favourite trio and partially because of how in spn canon we see how much of a nerd dean is and references the first three movies - but that being said i do think han and dean would clash from being too alike and i feel like luke and sam would kind of get along but mostly in the 'the others are too busy arguing' kind of way (leia and cas would get along like a house on fire though and i stand by that) - i do not think any of them would get along with the prequles trio at ALL, sam, cas and dean would immediately clock anakin as a problem and their reaction to him would immediately put them at odds with padme and obi-wan and they'd all just end up getting volatile and in each others way - now, the sequels are my least enjoyed sw movies so i don't have the best read on those characters, but i think solely on the basis of how much more modern those movies and characters feel that would lend them an edge up on the others just in terms of compatibility that way, but i just don't think that they'd get along - so to make a long answer short, im sticking with my guns and saying og trio because despite it all i do think they'd end up being able to work together the best and get shit done at the very least

i am so sorry for how long this post has become but you have certainly pressed the right button for me and i must continue because yes, absolutely cas would be force-sensitive -because just like everything i talked about in my last post with how well the broad strokes of cas' story already parallels certain star wars beats perfectly, so does his grace with the force - like this mystical, mostly believed to be a myth power that allows it wielder to perform great feats of strength and violence and mercy while being supernaturally attuned to the universe around them? yes yes yes yes cas as a force-user is everything to me - that being said, i do not see him as a jedi - i think cas would absolutely be more of a free agent within the force, using it for light surely, but (along with not having a teacher or access to the learnings) i think he would be happiest to make it up as he goes and forage his own way within the force (as well as i do not think he would be unable to give abide with the letting go of his attachments,,, like this is cas we're talking about his entire character is a study in attachments)

lastly !!! i absolutely love the trope of 'regular guy who somehow managed to make this powerful creature/person fall in love with them' it's just so fun and i agree that dean, han and din all fit it perfectly !!! and them all being competent threats in their own right (well mostly, han, while i love him, is not much of a threat - but he can fuck shit up and that makes for a good distraction !!!) lends itself to fun battle couple dynamics !!! i have so much more to say on this - namely in the way of how their characters all parallel and how they all are these strong characters who pretend not to care or feel as deeply as they do and how upon meeting this one, otherworldly person, gets their entire world upended and changed everything (and how that, unbeknownst to them at the beginning, goes both ways) - but this post is long enough as it is

once again i apologize for how long this post is and i hope my ramblings here make sense, but thank you so much for the ask this was so fun to get to talk about two of the fandoms i love most and all my little blorbos within !!!