#fennec is now taller good for her

[leopardsealz]

redrew some crusty older art of them. my sandwing siblings, sidewinder, fennec and coyote <3

[tremendum]

Hi, I'm happy to see you posting but I'm so sorry for your loss. For the drabble, I was hoping maybe something about reader and Mando were past rivals. the reader is good with throwing blades (IDK something about blades is hot, maybe Mando thinks so too), and they run into each other again and she's totally thrown off by seeing him again. Maybe she was recruited to help Boba Fett and Mando was there, and he like basically brings her to her knees in shock? Smut? Sorry this was so long

hi! ty baby, i appreciate it <3 here u go! changed it a little bit but i hope u like it :) also this is over 1k LOL sorry

warnings: gendered word (girl), knife kink, allusions to smut but nothing rly explicit, fighting/canon-typical violence. UNEDITED

★  

THE AIR IS THICK with the scent of exotic spices as you stare in shock, breath halted in your chest. 

it's silent in the throne room, the echo of Boba Fett's most recent words ringing in the wake of silence.

the room itself is something else: dark enough your eyes had taken a few moments to adjust as you'd first walked in, and again as the hydraulic lifts cleared you inside. the Daimyo and Fennec Shand had greeted you with a proposal; one you'd not expected in the least because, truthfully, when you'd been sent for at the cantina just an hour ago you'd been sure it was to face the reality of your mishappenings in the region. perhaps the Daimyo had come for you at last, despite your past camaraderie. 

you stand, hands on your hips. "this is an interesting way to welcome me in to the palace, Fett." 

he rumbles a short laugh, "you've been causing trouble around here, you know. I have enough on my plate as it is, I don't need your thorn in my side, especially when we have a proposal." 

your brows raise, "proposal?" you parrot, shifting on your feet.

there were pirates, he'd explained. a whole fleet. it was too much for just the three of you and his guards and para-security force around the city: he knew this, in fact, and that's when he'd admitted you were not the only friendly face he'd called in. 

now, you're staring with shock and a loose jaw, your heart swirling with heated anger in your chest as you look up, up to the left of Fett and Shand - to see him. 

it's been almost five years since you saw Din Djarin.

five years of bliss.

your eyes swallow him in; no longer in the scrapped and chipped armor of his earlier bounty hunting days - but still that same cocky posture, so sure of himself. it makes your own spine straighten as you glare, a full half-decade of working at odds with each other, the biggest competitor for your pucks. he glares back.

the helmet does, at least.

you should say something. Mando stands casually, arms crossing as he leans against the doorway, helmet tilting as you lay eyes on him. 

he's... well, he's more silver than you remember. reflective. taller - though maybe, as you blink up in shock, you wonder if it's because he's up those steps. 

you feel yourself heat with embarrassment as Fennec's cough breaks through your stare of surprise. "Mando." you swallow dryly, memories flooding your mind as you shift your feet, your hands itching for your blades. Mando's all new, a new man - but you, you're still the same. still the same angry girl with the same sharp blades. 

of all the places to run into each other, it had to be here. and he had to be doing well, by the looks of it, high up with Boba near the throne, while you stand under them and accept the offer to not get arrested in exchange for helping fight pirates. 

"we'll talk it over after supper." Boba pulls your gaze from the man in the corner, blinking as you nod. the helmet in your peripheral shines as it remains trained on you, though you ignore it. your fuzzy brain registers the Daimyo dismissing all of you, mentioning a meal to start in an hour and strategy to follow. 

you don't remove your eyes from the empty throne until Fennec and Boba's footsteps disappear behind the hydraulics. 

it's silent yet again as you take a stuttering breath, eyes snapping towards Mando as he moves away from his position against the wall, standing straight as he crosses his arms yet again. 

his imposing posture sets the hair on the back of your neck on edge. your name curls from his mouth, and then:

"you seem well." 

his voice is deep as it rumbles over the helmet's modulator. a bitter taste creeps into your mouth in embarrassment: anger, resentment, a bitter grudge all throw themselves violently upwards in your throat, towards the tip of your tongue. fighting words. 

does he not remember the last time you saw each other? 

your blood boils with a heat you haven't felt in a long time and on their own volition, your hands itch. before you can urge yourself to stop, stop it stop it- 

you're hurling a blade in a line-drive towards his neck. 

it's a flash as you soon whip another towards him, teeth grinding as anger courses through you; a grunt from him and a loud clang as the blade hits the beskar. 

you know where you should aim: ankles, hands, hip flexor. vulnerable spots. 

you're angry, but you don't want to hurt him, really - you want him to feel what you feel: shock. 

he grunts your name as the fourth and final blade whirs straight past his neck, sticking through the thick ventilation shaft just near his head. "stop!" 

you're breathing heavy, chest heaving as you watch him, his footsteps are heavy as he makes his way down the steps. your head cranes to take in his true height until he's a mere ten feet away; your shoulders tense as he tilts his visor towards you, "that's enough."

but something in his breathing's changed - his chest too heaves, almost in tandem with you as he continues to stalk forward. something in your heart thuds; a rush of excitement courses through you as your eyes take in the broadness of his chest, the biceps under his armor. he sure has kept his physique.  

you resist the bitter laugh, shaking your head. "you left me stranded." you grunt. his shoulders twitch at the dirt you've dug up from half a decade ago and he sighs, "I didn't have a choice." 

you shoot him a heated glare, "last I heard, you were still running with the guild." you take a breath, taking one step backwards as he continues to stalk towards you; in his gloved hands, one of your throwing blades, flipping over his fingertips. "who did you have to kill to earn your spot next to the Daimyo?" you sneer. 

his helmet tilts, "we're over this." he mutters, shaking his head, "I won't fight you." 

you grit your teeth, emotions swirling confusingly in your chest as he flips the blade, handing you the hilt. "I wouldn't want to hurt your ego." he adds quietly as your hand reaches out, your eyes flickering up in irritation at his jeer.

you stare up at him - but soon you're kicking with as much force as you can muster.

Mando stumbles back towards the steps, until his calves press against the stone of the throne; he sighs, as if annoyed, as you storm up the few steps towards him.

"you haven't changed much," he grunts, hovered slightly. your eyes narrow as you look on at him, lifting a brow, "you never liked me."

he shakes his head with a huff, "we had different ways of working. that's all."

you roll your eyes, shaking your head, "well, just because we aren't competing for our livelihoods anymore doesn't mean I'm exactly thrilled to see you, either, Djarin."

he mutters something low enough that the modulator barely spits it out; your head tilts as you hum, taking in the awkward hunch of his torso, his heavy breathing.

"I didn't think I'd see you again, you know." he tilts his helmet just as your spine sparks with something foreign; your face floods with heat as his helmet tilts over your figure. "I almost forgot how much you loved to throw those knives at me."

you glare at him in embarrassment, at the suave sound of his voice. what happened to the old Mando, the one who shook like a leaf when you so much as touched him?

you want that Mando back.

tilting your head, you lift a brow. here goes nothing.

"did you almost forget how much you love it, too?"

his helmet snaps up to meet your eyeline and you smirk: you had him, now.

feigning concern, your brows furrow, "oh, Mando..." you tut, flipping your blade up to slide it against his chest piece; it leaves a slight mark that could be buffered off with the swipe of a thumb.

you find yourself wanting to carve your name into it.

a light shove to his chest is all it takes for him to collapse back onto the stone throne; his thighs large as they spread before you, an amused grunt leaving his helmet. his head tilts up now, looking up from you as his arms spread, accepting his fate.

your stomach flutters.

"I hate to admit it, but-" you lean forward, aware of how clear of a sight he probably has of your chest at this angle, your knife trailing over his beskar chest gently, "I've missed seeing you squirm so much. you look good like this." you whisper, voice dripping with seduction.

a firm hand grabs your hips so suddenly you almost jump; a touch that burns, that flutters your stomach, that coaxes a grin over your lips.

"don't start something you can't finish, sen'ika." his voice swirls just as seductively, and his words leave you dizzy as he leans back in his seat, easing into his position. heat courses through you as you lift a brow.

"who says I can't finish it?" you whisper, your knife trailing lower, lower, lower-

his hand moves sharply- one on your waist but the other then gripping your hand tight, tugging you roughly until you're suddenly straddling his thick thighs, the cool of the beskar biting your skin.

"let's see you try, then."

-

requests open.

-

[raccoon-crown]

Ya know? It's really fun when ya compare how went the three siblings reunion in Dream Land AU.

When Surge and Frost (Kitsunami) first met, the kid was both startled and curious, in a good part cause Hypnoss (aka Satarline) just brought her a stormy night, covered in burns and half alive, so he kept looking out for her (both due to Hypnoss instructions and his own interest) without being directly noticed by her... Ir so he thought.

Like, she could woke up in the mornings to find her breakfast served and a pair of ears or a tail disappearing behind some furniture or leaving through a door or even a window. It keep on till she got annoyed enough for her to react on time to send a lighting strike on his direction to stop him from scaping one day.

And even if it made him shake a lot, it actually worked and they finally could know each other so from that day on the Fennec felt that he didn't had to hide anymore to check on her.

As for Surge, the kid was like a mosquito at the beginning, a little pest that didn't leave her alone and would just get into her room whenever he just wanted to chat or show him something. But when ya are basically alone in a huge bastion where the only other visit you get is Hypnoss, that drippy face gets a lot of relevance.

Now let's take a little time skip to when Zero (Infinite) came into the "family". There was Hypnoss again at the main hall with something like: 'Guess what, ya have a new brother!' just to move aside and show the a fiery looking guy with the same uniform as them (ejem, still with some bandages on cause Starline couldn't wait for him to actually recover to take him to Jambastion...)

Frost was literally Frozen in the spot while Surge squinted her eyes saying: "Seriously boss, where da ya keep getting this guy's?"

And Zero faces her like: "Seems like from the same place ya come little girl" (notice that zero is a little taller /and maybe older/ than her)

She then takes a second before lighting up, ignoring the Fennec sweating, like: "All right, I like him, let's keep it"

[burnwater13]

Boba Fett speaking to Fennec Shand (out of frame) while standing in the burned out hulk of Garsa Fwip's Sanctuary. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 6, In the Name of Honor. Calendar from DataWorks.

Grogu wondered why Boba Fett felt so strongly about Mos Espa. Was he really worried about the people there or was he worried about his reputation? He’d decided, when he met up with Bib Fortuna, according to Fennec, that he wanted to retire from bounty hunting because the clients were a lot of trouble for a small amount of gain. Bib Fortuna apparently being a good example of that.

Grogu could understand the problems that any bounty hunter had with bad the clients. The really bad ones. The ones that asked you to bring children in and the truly evil ones that asked you to bring them cold… you know… permanently cold. Uff. What kind of bounty hunter would take a job like that? A droid maybe? Or someone who was just evil. 

As far as Grogu could tell, Boba Fett was about the least evil bounty hunter he’d met, next to his dad. And Fennec. Grogu understood from the stories his dad had told him about Fennec that she had a heck of a reputation, but it seemed like the people she dealt with would have ended up that way sooner or later. He counted that in her favor, although he was sure that his masters would have scolded him. 

Jedi did not become bounty hunters and they did not hire them. If there was a person they needed to find… well… they found them. The Force was very useful for that sort of thing if you knew what you were doing. That was one of the first things that Grogu learned to do. He had too. It was the easiest way to find his way around the Jedi Temple. 

Imagine, if you will, being less than a third of a meter tall. If you were walking, and Master Yoda certainly thought that your character would be built better if you were walking, everything that might be useful as a landmark for you, was of no use to all the people there who were significantly taller. Since there were no Anzellans at the Temple, everyone was taller than Grogu. So asking for directions from any of the other younglings, padawans, or masters was complete waste of time. Take for example this exchange with Master Obi-Wan, one of the most sympathetic and considerate masters.

“Grogu, I need you to bring this data pack to Master Drallig. I believe he’s at the exterior training ground at this time of day.”

Grogu took the data pack, which was half his size and began to trot off.

“No, Grogu. Not that way. Master Drallig is at the exterior training ground. Go south down this corridor, turn left at the statue of Master Draebeert, and then proceed to the doors at the end of that corridor.”

Grogu, knowing that Master Obi-Wan meant well, nodded his head, turned around and began to trot down the corridor, also knowing that the tall human was watching him every step of the way now. 

“I appreciate you doing this for me, young one. It is very important that you don’t delay bringing the data pack to him. Thank you.”

Of course he hadn’t planned on delaying giving Master Drallig the data pack. That’s why he wasn’t going to the exterior training grounds because Grogu knew it was pouring rain outside. He’d seen the rain while he’d been doing work in the arboretum. When it rained, Master Drallig conducted classes in the small basement area of the gymnasium which was meant for practicing the physical arts, like wrestling, boxing, and martial arts. Grogu often went there just to watch the padawans train because everyone had already agreed that Grogu was not going to taking advantage of physical strength to win any argument. At least the kind that didn’t depend on the Force. 

So off he trotted and dutifully went down the hallway looking for a statue of someone he’d never heard of. Grogu suspected that Master Kenobi thought that Grogu would simply glance at the plaques that had been positioned on or near each statue. Of course they were all placed approximately 1.5 meters above the floor. For Grogu to be able to read them he’d have to across the hall from them and standing on a plinth that was about a half a meter tall. Needless to say, those plinths did not exist in the temple. 

So there he was  jumping up every time he reached a corridor and statue to see whose it was. After doing that three or four times, Master Drallig came up to him from the cross corridor and asked him what he was doing. 

Grogu had replied that he was looking for the Master to give him a data pack from Master Kenobi.

“I see. I think. In the future, simple close your eyes and reach out with the Force. Think of me and you will know my location. This works the same way as when you are ‘somehow’ locating any spare snacks in the training rooms.”

Master Drallig was almost smiling at him and Grogu returned the smile as he handed the tall human the data pack. He’d just thought he’d been lucky finding those snacks. Now that he knew it was the Force there was no end…

“And do not use that technique to avoid people or get into mischief with Ian. The two of you remind me of one of my padawans from years ago. If I didn’t know better I would say one or the other of your was Seb’s child. Now, back to your lessons.”

Grogu had tried not to laugh at the notion that any one padawan could out do Grogu and Ian at any sort of mischief, but if there was one, he wanted to meet them. Which brought him back to thinking about Boba Fett and why he became Daimyo of Mos Espa. It was the people. He’d met them. Listened to them. Promised to help them build a better life. Much like Master Drallig who had helped Grogu that day, so long ago. A life devoted to helping others. 

Grogu sighed. The people of Mos Espa had no idea how lucky they were.

[hattiestgal]

BAM! thanks to a seemingly innocuous trinket they picked up from Kiera, a random OC of yours gets Dragonnfied! (complete with the iconic Round Shape) How do they initial react, and after getting used to the whole "transforming-into-a-giant-mythical-beaste", what would their hoard consist of?

Spun a wheel, so this really was random, but-

The innocuous trinket? A cake! Initially proposed to be a means to satisfy her partners every growing hunger, (which Violette seemingly didn't think twice about how Kiera knew about Riley), Violette took ot home with the intention of lovingly feeding it to her fennec lover when they got home from a gig they were playing at. But first- a little sample wouldn't hurt, right? Just some dtandard quality control and not at all because the cake looked really good.

Either way, the important thing is that HOLY CRAP VIOLETTES A DRAGON NOW. I imagine her first reaction would be something along the lines of "Oh shit I'm WAY taller than I used to be" followed by probably freaking out about the fact that she probably would have some trouble working as a mechanic with her newfound size

...only to push those worries to the side for a moment and consider all of the new things she could do as a big 'ol dragon, notably in regards to flustering Riley.

As far as her hoard goes, belts, chokers, all variety of goth apparel (along with a huge pile of plushies) would probably make up most of it, obviously with a certain fennec acting as a crowning jewel

[draeth-place]

I'm back :) here's some art

I made some traditional art of me and my friend Blitz' personas. I really like how they turned out, also no more vector art, I'm doing cool pixel art by scaling down the hand drawn art to varying degrees and coloring them... like antonblast

Here's Blitz! She's definitely taller than me... (persona wise and real life wise) probably about 5' 7" to 6' 1" idk, please follow her she makes really good music (@blitzproductions) The character is transfem (i think)

And again here's my character with yet another redesign, they're now a Fennec Fox Kitsune, a fennec fox version of a kitsune, They're about 5' 5" including hair and 4' 3" not including it, the little bubble above the hair just does the same thing as the emote bubble above a Chao's head. Their powers variate based on their current emotion (which can be swayed easily bc they're sensitive)

[h4zardousch3micals]

Performance of a Lifetime • 3

First • Previous • Next

So guess who suddenly got a huge burst of inspiration? This guy!

Conflict time 😈😈😈

Also introducing... an antagonist? Not the main one, we'll get to there when we get there, but an antagonist nonetheless

———

Another day, another round of rigorous practise; such was the routine at Audrey's Intrepid.

Glaishur wandered into the backstage tent and flopped down on a nearby beanbag chair with an overdramatic yawn. Scaratar trailed behind, equally exhausted but not willing to make such a scene about it.

"You two okay..?" Attmoz looked up and hesitantly muttered, unsure whether to be concerned or amused. He has been helping Galvana with her main trick when the two walked in and threw them off focus.

Blasoom looked up from their drawing and chirped in a friendly manner. The bird monster was yet to learn to speak - and at this point might not ever do so - she had adapted and learnt to communicate in her own way through various sounds and squeaks.

Loodvigg lurked silently in the background. He noticed their presence but said nothing.

"Yeah..." The cold monster wheezed, "Just tired."

Scaratar elaborated, "Fennec had us running around in circles with Furnoss. Something about 'building endurance' or whatever."

"Oh." He sounds almost irritated, not by them but by their situation, "Well, why didn't you just tell him you're not doing that. He won't be able to stop you."

"Attmoz!" Glaishur cried, "We can't just - not do anything! What about the rules?"

"Rules are for breaking!" He protested.

"No, rules are for following!"

"Alright you two..." Scaratar grumbled. She was tired, and although the pair's bickering was playful it wasn't at all helpful.

"Hoop!" Galvana interrupted, her arms folded and her foot stomping grumpily. She only knew a few words, but she definitely knew how to use them to get what she wanted, "Hoop!"

"Oh. What's that, Galvana? You want to practice the hoop trick again?" Attmoz asked.

She squealed and whistled with excitement, balancing atop their electrical orb enthusiastically. The kid always seemed to be positively buzzing with energy, something which baffled her fellow monsters to no end.

"Alright. One... Two... Three... Go!" He then tossed the large, striped toy hoop into the air.

Galvana kicked the orb so that it would roll forward - leapt through the hoop - and landed on the orb, which was now on the other side. Her form could use some work, and the landing was more than a little clumsy, but it was quite impressive for such a young monster.

"Ooo-oo!" She squeaked in triumph.

"Wow, she's getting really good at that." Glaishur commented, having quietly observed the miniature spectacle from the sidelines.

"I know right? She'll be ready in no time." Scaratar added.

Blasoom honked a few times approvingly, before returning to their artistic project. Crayon in beak, the scribbled and decorated the paper with images of monsters and plants and red and yellow canopies; occasionally stopping to switch colour or adjust the sheet so it was on a more even section of the floor.

Loodvigg observed the scene quietly from a still, dark corner, watching and thinking. Scaratar's words from a few days ago had stuck with him, even though she appeared to have nearly forgotten about them. Was this all their was for them? Practice, practice, practice? Sure, Galvana certainly seems to enjoy it - as did many of the others - and Scaratar reassured him that she wasn't bothered by their situation. So, why does he feel so unsatisfied?

Maybe he's just weird.

"WHAT'S UP, LOSERS?"

That voice. THAT voice...

Attmoz's head whipped around to greet the all too familiar newcomer, "Ugh, Saira... Losers, really? You sound like the bully in a book for little kids."

Saira just smirked and stepped into the tent, having to duck in order to not hit their head. They were only about Attmoz's age; but they were tall, taller than any of them, and built like a brick wall with thick, striped, dark blue scales. Their paws were tipped with razor-like claws and they had a sharp spike like a spear just above their eyes. In fact, the only part of them that didn't look ready to fight at any given moment was the frilly, almost cartoonishly out of place green clown ruff around their neck. Nobody would want to mess with them, and they knew it.

Glaishur sunk in his seat, as though if he could just hide in his hair like a turtle they wouldn't notice him. Scaratar tried to act like she didn't even know they were there, but the way she watched them out of the corner of her eye was unmistakable. Blasoom continued to colour in their picture, but would hesitate every big movement in case it provoked them. Loodvigg just silently monitored them like a hunting hawk.

"What are you even doing here?" Attmoz grumbled, "Don't you have better things to do since you're Audrey's little princess?"

They shrugged, "Not really, I'm bored, actually."

"Then, buzz off, why don't you?"

"Why? Watching you lot is much more entertaining than whatever dumb task they'll give me."

"Oh, really?" Glaishur perked up, "Thanks, Saira."

They snickered, and Attmoz was forced to correct him, "...That wasn't a compliment, Glaishur."

"Oh..."

He turned his attention back to the Strombonin, "Look, if you insist on watching, can't you at least stand a little further away? Galvie needs space."

As if to support his argument, Galvana nodded and stuck her tounge out at Saira.

"Ugh, fine." They took a few steps back and settled on the ground in the manner of a sphinx statue, one paw crossed over the other. They'd didn't look too happy about it, but even they knew better than to get angry over something this petty.

Attmoz and Galvana went back to rehearsing, and Saira quickly got bored of watching the same thing over and over. Their eyes drifted over to Glaishur and Scaratar, but both seemed rather tired so neither were moving much. Boring. Loodvigg still kept his distances, glaring at them from the shadows. Also boring. Blasoom, however...

"Hey, pppst! Birdbrain?" They whispered, "What are you doing?"

Blasoom chirped disapprovingly and hopped a few paces away, taking her newest illustration with her: a picture of a large pink flower.

"Oh! Are you drawing? Can I see?"

She shook her head frantically and backed away again, but Saira leaned forward and snatched it from her beak with one huge paw.

"Give me that." Their expression softens as they take in the quality of the image, "...Oh. This is... actually pretty good."

Blasoom stood there motionless, uncomfortable and unsure of what to make about the situation. She knew that the mythical monster had an interest in arts, but when her drawing was snatched up she expected to be laughed at, or worse...

"Here, give me a crayon, I'll show you a cool trick."

Hesitantly, they obliged, retrieving Saira a purple crayon. The pangolin-like monster lined the underside of the petals with purple and smudged it with their claw, until it resembled shadows cast by the early morning sun (well, it resembled it about as well as a drawing made with crayons could).

They held their revision up for the plant monster to see, "You see how putting a darker colour on top of it this in this pattern makes it look like there's a light source?"

"And then you—OOF!" They reached for another crayon, when behind them Galvana miscalculated a jump and toppled to the ground, sending both herself and her orb flying and bumping into Saira. It didn't affect them much, but it did cause them to accidentally rip the paper and drag a thick line of blue across the entire thing.

Almost instantly, they spun around with an agitated expression. They flicked Galvana with their claw - not enough to actually do any damage, but certainly enough to hurt. "Watch where you're going, you little brat!"

"HEY!" Attmoz stood, his trail bristling from anger, "That was uncalled for; she's just a kid!"

"So?" They narrowed their eyes.

"So leave her alone! She can't help it!" He threw his arms up into the air from frustration.

They rose to their feet and started to approach the little monster, who was still recovering from the tumble, "Sure she can, if she just bothered to actually think before she acted. She wouldn't—"

Loodvigg suddenly darted out from the shadows, a grim expression on his face. He positioned himself between Saira and Galvana; a low growl rumbled from his throat, "Back off."

"Oh, wow, look who finally decided to say something." They uttered sarcastically, maneuvering to go around him, but he blocked their way again.

"Yeah, I did. And I said, back off."

By now, Glaishur and Scaratar had noticed what was going on and were watching with a mix of inquisitiveness and apprehension. Scaratar's antenne twitched skittishly, while Glaishur repeatedly ran a hand through his hair as a sort of nervous habit.

"Why? What are you gonna do about it, emo?" Saira challenged.

Loodvigg clenched his fists, "Say that again!"

"'Vigg. Don't." Scaratar warned.

"What are you gonna do about it, emo?"

By now, he was practically shaking with protective, righteous fury, "I'll... I'll..."

Before either of them could make their next move, the speakers crackled to life and they heard a voice they had all been trained to respect say in an unusually sickly-sweet tone, "Oh, Saiiiiiiiiraaaaaa! You're needed over by the duck pond, sweetie! Copper's waiting for you!"

"Ugh, coming, mom..." They slowly slunk off; their was posture slumped and they glared at Loodvigg the whole time, "This isn't over. You don't get to act like you're the boss of me and get away with it."

When they finally left the backstage tent, everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Attmoz walked over to Galvana and helped the little monster back to her feet, gently patting her shoulder as she sniffled and sobbed.

"Phew, that was a close one..." Glaishur mumbled.

Scaratar scuttled over to the Shadow monster and grabbed onto his hands, slowly coaxing him to unclench them, "Loodvigg, what the heck were you thinking? Do you have any idea what could've happened if you two got in a fight!"

"They need to be put in her place."

"Not by you!" Glaishur protested, "Remember when they absolutely destroyed me at the high striker? Do you really wanna be on the wrong end of that?!"

He shrugged. Justice mattered more than if he got hurt during the process, "Maybe..."

"'Vigg!" Attmoz added, "I don't like them either, I make that clear. But we're never going to win against them if we use our fists."

"I know, I know..." He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down at the floor, feeling a little ashamed but not quite sure why.

"And even if you somehow didn't get hurt: they're Audrey's kid! We'd get in so much trouble!" Glaishur exclaimed.

"I think it'd be worth it..."

"And that's why you aren't in charge of making decisions." Attmoz muttered.

Scaratar stared at the spot where Saira had just been. There was a strange, misty look in her eyes - as though she missed another reality that never really existed where the Mythical monster was kind to them, "I think it's better to just... try and keep the peace. They'll grow up one day."

"If they haven't grown up by now, I don't think they ever will." Loodvigg muttered, "Is everyone okay? Blasoom? Galvana?"

Blasoom solemnly nodded, but there was no enthusiastic chirps or happy little hops.

"Ooo-ooo!" Galvana wiped her damp face and smiled, apparently having cheered up rather quickly.Attmoz was satisfied with those reactions, "Come on, Galvie. Let's just keep practicing..."

Loodvigg went back to skulking in the darkness and Scaratar scampered away awkwardly to 'go do something very important that she totally forgot about until this exact moment'.

Glaishur, however, noticed there was something still off about Blasoom's demeanor.

"Blasoom?" He mumbled, unsure whether this was the right approach to take, "Is something wrong?"

Blasoom silently picked up the ruined drawing and showed it to him. The look in their eyes seemed to be a combination of disappointment, frustration and lingering fear.

"Oh... I'm sorry. Here let me—" He reached out to take it, but stopped himself, "Is it okay if I try and fix it?"

Blasoom nodded and dropped the picture. With the most careful of movements, Glaishur picked it up and inspected the damage. He took the white crayon - finally finding a use for it - and carefully covered up as much of the unwanted blue streak as he could, though a few speckles remained. As for the tear, there wasn't any tape nearby so he couldn't reattach it, but he coloured in the tattered edges so they blended in somewhat with the rest of the image.

When he was finally satisfied with his work, he handed it back to her, "I know it's not exactly the same as it was before, but I hope it's at least sort of okay."

Blasoom didn't react for a few seconds, then her eyes lit up and she bounced around from sheer delight, making happy bassoon noises all the while. She skipped over to him and gently rested her feathers against his purple fur, her attempt at a hug with no arms.

Glaishur couldn't help but beam, "Aww, you're welcome, Blasoom!"

Maybe things weren't so bad afterall...

[citizensofeggtonarchived]

"Oh, speak nothing of it. As I mentioned portal mishaps are a common occurrence here, though I suppose it is a bit shocking that you landed to my younger sisters lab. It is also rather lucky as anywhere else in the castle and you'd have a swarm of guards over you in a matter of moments." Vix knew these soldiers better than anyone having spend so many years in the castle with them and knew just how fast they can move.

"Yes, well, thankfully that didn't happen and we were able to make a good impression with Princess Sally." Kit would feel terrible if Sally had gotten arrested and put in a cell just for something as minor as a portal error. It seemed despite being Queen the smaller fennec was far nicer than she should be.

"Kit, please do remember that not everyone has good intentions. I do respect your drive to see the best in everyone, though you are Queen and that can make you a target. The last thing I'd wish is to see you hurt." Vix had great respect for Kit's kindness to all, though she often has to reminder to not to trust everyone.

"I know, I just don't want anyone hurt, though thank you for you concern." This wasn't the first time Kit had been told that, though it was different with Vix as not only was she her older sister, though she speaks with such confidence and little doubt it always made her act more passive than normal for some reason even if she knew her sister wanted the opposite effect. The fennec would have to work on her confidence more.

Vix would offer a warm smile to Kit before reaching over and giving her a light pat on the head. The taller fennec would then return her focus to Sally. "Now, me and my sister are understanding of the situation, though from a political stand point this can be seen as a poor start." It seemed the High Queen was moving on the business. "I would normally work out a draft in terms of making alliances, though it might be best to start off with some verbal promises, just to keep everyone at ease." She was sure it wouldn't be long before rumors spread about the way the chipmunk ended up in the castle.

"Oh please, it's hardly a-" Sally was an attentive person, so it was harder for her to miss the sudden entrance occurring in the sky above. There's a slow blink as her gaze focuses on the.. castle.. in the sky.

She shouldn't be all that surprised, truthfully. Angel Island was a flying castle in some regard, though she wasn't sure if Knuckles could move it freely.. maybe that's why she only had a brief startle rather than a proper freak out; managing to contain her shock after the initial jolt at the sight and sudden music filling the air. Even if it just.. mercy, it keeps going, doesn't it? She can't help but maybe look like a country bumpkin staring in comparison, though all the magic on display really makes her feel out of her element.

Still, she hid it well once she realized it was happening, letting out a breathy chuckle and a slight bow of her head as the other took a seat with them. Okay, she's even rather tall. Great, she's not intimidated. Who's intimidated? Not her, nope, not at all.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Queen Vix. Even if I must apologize again for the method in which this all started. Though, ah, yes, Queen Kit has been an absolute dear given I all but fell atop her like a sopping wet cat. I'll at least take solace that I'm not that much of an outlier..."

[beardedmrbean]

So my point was proven, nunya! Might as well go all out.

Savethefox, who hide their abuse and normalise owning exotic wild animals, manage to manipulate people so well that even when shown several compilations proving abuse and neglect of foxes, fans will blindly defend them.

A shelter that has fishers in the same house as cats (fishers eat cats and can and will eat small foxes), a shelter that not only lied about foxes dying due to having no sensible safety to stop them from digging or climbing over only to get hit by cars or just disappear, but never actually makes the changes to keep them safe.

Savethefox claims to "rescue" foxes, when they actually buy foxes from fur farms (going in the thousands of dollars) therefore financing the industry they claim to hate.

Savethefox doesn't buy female foxes. They refuse to take them in. They don't care about them. Which is curious, considering they happen to be a rescue...but only for male foxes.

They keep foxes alive when it would be more humane and ethical to have them put down due to the tremendous amount of pain they're in because of a cranial malformation.

They keep a fennec fox as an indoor pet and admit to not letting them out because fennecs and foxes don't mix. Also they admitted to their main mascot fox, Finnegan, having been STOLEN.

They also continue to buy foxes despite at the same time begging for donations because they don't have enough money to feed the foxes they already have. These foxes are going to starve because of one lady's selfish desire to own exotic pets and rake in the monetary benefit of treating them like nothing but toys for the internet to see.

Do not support Save the Fox.

To that lovely person who came into my DMs to bother me about this: Ignoring this massive amount of proof of neglect and mistreatment of foxes is to condone their abuse.

Animal abuse isn't a joke. It isn't fun or quirky.

I'm tired of being nice to people who condone animal abuse, nunya. Sick of it.

I'm back and forth on Save A Fox, I see stuff like what you've provided then I go and look around and see only good or neutral things like i was saying to you about the fox subreddit not having anything negative about them.

NatGeo article I found on the place was a puff piece, only thing I really got out of that one is she needs a taller fence.

Charity navigator has no review, scam advisor has they at 96/100 very positive but that financial responsibility or something not animal welfare.

Really at this point with the whole thing where I'm running into brick walls, which is utterly bizarre. Which with one more bit of information leads me to a plausible theory

You ain't getting a 4.9 star review with 261 reviews, statistically impossible unless you flushed all the bad ones and left a few 4 star to try and add legitimacy. Kind of how I feel with the 96/100 from scam advisor too.

Not gonna flat out say they're bad every single place that was critical of them that I could find was a tumblr blog.

That rubs me the wrong way, there is nearly always going to be something out there so this feels like someone is manipulating the numbers to squelch the bad reviews. Not saying it's happening, but it doesn't sit right with me.

Between what you've got here and the other links you've sent my way there does absolutely look to be something shady.

Really hope she's cautious about adopting hers out, but even if she is she does make it look easy and fun and there will be plenty of disreputable people that won't give a single shit about the animal.

Personally can't go totally negative on the place, but there's a lot of blank spots in the information I can find, which is weird for me.

This is where I usually tell people to do their own research and come up with their own conclusions, but I've been dancing around for over an hour now there's not much out there, so still do it and draw your own conclusions but good luck finding much info.

[honey-dewey]

To Serve the King

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: 2,870

Warnings: No major ones, Reader gets called a slut once. 

Very few understood what went on behind the Mand’alor’s helmet, but that didn’t mean they didn’t support him. However, leaving someone wrapped in revealing silks and fine jewelry on the throne when he wasn’t around might’ve been one of the odder things they’ve seen. 

Din Djarin was many things, but a confident Mand’alor was not one of them. They called him Mand’alor the Reuniter, officially. That was the name they put in the books and would write for all of history. However, he was well known as the Mudhorn Mand’alor, or the Mand’alor who never removed his helmet. 

He’d been settled as the Mand’alor for a while now, slowly reuniting the people of Mandalore, hence the name he’d been given. It was slow going, and because he was often away on odd jobs, he needed someone he could trust to keep his throne safe while he went away. 

To most, however, an ex-slave wasn’t the first choice. Hell, it might even be the last. 

Yet, that’s who the great Mand’alor trusted with his beskar throne. 

He’d picked you up on Tatooine, after you’d thrown down with Fennec when she’d found you hiding in Jabba’s old palace. You’d been bruised and beaten up, but you’d held your own and seemed to be pretty loyal, so Din had taken you back to Mandalore and offered you a job. You weren’t a complete fool, so you accepted. 

Now, almost six months later, you were comfortable as the throne keeper. Maybe a bit too comfortable, but that was Din’s problem to deal with. Dressed in revealing silk and soft chiffon, you often sat upon the throne when he hunted. When he wasn’t out hunting, you were seated at his right or in his lap, depending on your mood. 

Some, most even, speculated that you were still a slave, considering the only beskar you wore was an ornate collar. But others considered your boldness and wondered if you were truly the pilot and Din was just your puppet. And others still were certain that you and Din were exchanging sexual favors behind the scenes, taking into account the fact that you both slept in the same room. 

None of them were right. 

You were no longer a slave. You wore the collar out of respect for Din, knowing that he had the power to remove it kept you respectful and by his side, but he would absolutely let you go if you asked. You were also not the mastermind. Despite being smart, you had no desire to rule a planet. And as for the sexual favors, well, you admired Din, and thought he was likely handsome under the helmet, but you could never see yourself seducing him, or vice versa. At least, not yet. 

What you were was his advisor and his unofficial right hand man. He’d offered you the job, and you had insisted on the uniform. It kept you unassuming and out of people’s minds. No one suspected a throne warmer to be anything but a bubble headed slut. Which you definitely were not. 

Din had, upon realizing people would likely be after your head, cleared out a bit of his room for you, which was where you were now. Tucked away in a small alcove was your bed, raised up high above your desk and bookshelf. You enjoyed sleeping this close to the ceiling. It gave you a sense of security. 

Also amongst your things was a wardrobe built into the wall. Inside hung most of your day clothes, as your leisure clothes were folded away in the wardrobe’s only drawer. 

The only thing separating you from Din was a thick black curtain that you controlled, often tugging it shut so you could have privacy. 

Now, you were settled at your desk, pouring over papers Din had given you to check. It was slow going, but worth the trouble. You scratched out a mistake and corrected it, adjusting the number of exports to accurately represent Mandalore’s involvement with the galaxy. 

“Hey,” Din said, knocking a bit on the side of the wall before pushing the curtain open. “You good in here?” 

“Yep,” you mumbled, putting the final piece of paper down and smiling. “Just finished looking over the import and export papers. Everything looks good.” 

Din sighed. “Perfect. I’m leaving for two days. I have a meeting with Fett and Skywalker on a planet not too far from here.” 

You nodded, standing and stretching. “I guess I better get ready, hm?” 

Din chuckled lightly. “What will you wear?” 

Opening your wardrobe, you examined your options, eventually deciding on one. “This.” 

The outfit in question was mostly sheer, with strategic patches of fine silk to cover you appropriately. The chiffon fabric was a beautiful royal blue, while the silks were a blue so dark they may as well have been black. You slid into the outfit, adjusting it and smiling. Din may have worn head to toe beskar to protect himself, but this was your armor. Slipping on your silver anklets and sapphire studded jewelry, you walked out onto the main bedroom, seeing Din waiting there for you. 

“My king,” you said formally, a sly grin curling across your lips. 

Din sighed. “Here.” He held out your beskar collar, securing it around your neck. He was the only one with a key to unlock the ornate clasp that kept it in place, but you didn’t mind. You would survive for a few days without removing the collar while you waited for your Mand’alor to return. 

You two headed out to the throne room, where you settled down on the throne, waving to Din as he left. He promised he’d be back by nightfall the next day, and you grinned, teasingly replying that you couldn’t wait for his return. Throwing your legs over one of the arms of the throne, you lounged back. Time to do your job. 

The first people that came in were merchants from a nearby planet. Rug makers who were down on their luck. They didn’t have much to trade, but you promised them that you would take a look at their exports and see what you could do. Some of the council members seemed hesitant to let them go so easily, but you waved your hand and they left without a word. 

Over the day, you had many encounters like that. Small ones you could easily talk over and come to a simple conclusion. In between meetings, you read a book on the throne, entirely engulfed in the story. The council filtered around you, often attempting to talk you down from your decisions. You always responded in the same way. By flicking a book page and sweetly telling them it’s what the Mand’alor would’ve done. 

By the time the sun had set, you were preparing for your final meeting. A scheduled one with the Nite Owls, who had come in with the leader of an assassination attempt for the Mand’alor. 

The assassin in question was dragged behind Bo-Katan and Koska, his hands cuffed and a length of chain linking his ankles. He looked exhausted, kneeling before you with sleepless and pitiful eyes, his shoulders hunched. You examined him further, occasionally asking Bo-Katan a question. His hair was choppy, clearly dirty and in desperate need of a proper trim, although he did have well maintained facial hair. His skin, naturally sun-kissed, was pale with lack of light, and his eyes, which kept drawing you in, were surrounded by sleepless bruises. 

“Oh for the love of Mand’alor, uncuff him,” you instructed. “He’s starved, exhausted, and in no condition to fight anyone. The least you can do is treat him like a human being and not a kriffing animal.” 

Bo-Katan did as asked, uncuffing the assassin. You leaned forward, happy today had gotten some form of excitement. “Do you have a name?” 

The assassin shook his head. You sighed, standing up and stepping down off the dais and standing before the assassin. “A pity. Can you talk?” 

“Yes.” 

You nodded. “Good. I’m sure Bo-Katan treated you well on your journey here. He wasn’t any trouble, was he, Ms. Kryze?” 

Bo-Katan shrugged. “He’s a survivor. Took us months to hunt him down.” 

You knelt down, taking the assassin’s face and slowly turning it from side to side. Noting a bruise that could only have come from a fight, you made up your mind, standing and holding a hand out. “Stand.” 

He did, taking your hand and using it to wobble to his feet. He was taller than you, but you didn’t mind. All you could see in your head was yourself, knelt before the Mand’alor, body aching from a life of fighting, desperate for any kind of out. He’d held your hand just as you did to the assassin, offering you a steady life. 

“Listen well,” you said, still holding the assassin’s hand. “On this planet, there is an honest life to be found. A life of comfort, a life that isn’t ruled by a need to hunt or fight. If you’ll accept, we can give you that life.” 

The assassin’s face went slack, his hand gripping yours tightly. “And why would I want to live like you?” He hissed finally. “A pretty little palace slut. That’s not what I want.” He stepped forward, but you knew better. Using his iron grip on your hand, you tossed him clean over your shoulder, whirling around to press a knee firmly to his sternum, your dominant forearm steady on his throat. 

“Then you give me no choice,” you said, voice as firm as your position. “I’ll be returning you to Bo-Katan, and she can have her way with you.” 

He was wrestled to his feet, Koska grinning as she recuffed him. 

“Ms. Kryze,” you said, moving back to the throne and sitting upon it once more. “Show our guest how we treat those who would attack us.” 

Bo-Katan nodded, hauling the assassin out. You sighed, collapsing into the throne. “You’re all dismissed,” you said loosely, waving away the council members, all of whom had been dead silent for your final meeting. 

They left, leaving you alone on the throne. How Din did this day in and day out was a mystery to you. You were exhausted simply from one final meeting. 

Standing and heading back to your shared room, you slid past Din’s portion and finally shrouded yourself in the familiarness of your room. 

You had a horribly restless sleep that night, and awoke early to the sound of someone entering the room. You feared for all of two seconds before you heard the telltale sounds of beskar armor. Din was home early. 

Sliding out of bed, you tossed on a knee length robe and opened the curtain, seeing Din standing next to his bed. 

“Oh Maker am I glad to see you!” You said, eagerly approaching him. “I had a very long day yesterday.” 

Din huffed, settling on the side of the bed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it.” 

You sat with him, cross legged and playing absently with the hem of your robe. “Well. It was super simple until the end. Just a bunch of boring meetings and deals, most of which were transcribed for you and I can give you the highlight notes later. But then, Bo-Katan came in with the leader of that would-be assassination group she told us about last month. He was a complete dick! Called me a slut and almost hurt me.” 

“You fought back?” 

“Yeah.” You scooted closer to Din. “Sent him out with Bo-Katan. I’m sure she’s disposed of him by now.” 

Din sighed, leaning back on the bed. “Sounds like you did good.” 

You smiled, the praise warning your chest. “I think I did.” 

You almost fell asleep there with Din, the both of you laying with each other. He’d had a long trip, which he told you about. He’d not slept in his anticipation to return, Grogu coming home with him for a while. The little green child was curled in your lap. You’d met him a few times, and he liked you tremendously. His acceptance of you was part of the reason Din trusted you as much as he did. 

Before you could truly fall asleep, Din nudged you awake, mumbling he had a meeting to attend. You stretched, slowly crawling out of the bed and picking a less revealing and more comfortable pale green outfit. It was still fit for a throne warmer, but wasn’t as scandalous as your previous day’s attire. 

Walking out with Din, you grinned upon seeing Bo-Katan seated at the small, round meeting table. There was no one else in the room. 

Din, as per custom, sat across from Bo-Katan, with you sitting at his right. 

“So,” Din said, starting the meeting officially. “The assassin, you dealt with him?” 

Bo-Katan’s lips curved into a smile. “In a way, yes.” 

Din shifted. “What does that mean?” 

“We got rid of him,” Bo-Katan clarified, leaning back in her chair. “Although I think his encounter with your stand-in was enough to scare him into not messing with us ever again. But, as per the instructions, he was dealt with in an appropriate manner. I doubt we’ll be hearing from the other assassins in the group any time soon.”

“Good,” Din said, relaxing. “Shall we tell them?” 

“I suppose,” Bo-Katan hummed. “It was such fun yesterday to see them fight, but now is as good a time as any.” 

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, leaning forward and putting a hand on the table. “Are you talking about me?” 

Din nodded. “After seeing what you can do, and how you negotiated yesterday, I think it’s fitting that I ask you to be my interplanetary advisor. This would mean making trips with me, handling most if not all of the papers, which I think you do anyway, and basically doing what you do now on a larger scale.” 

You were stunned. It made sense, all except for one little bit. “But you didn’t see what I did yesterday. You were gone.” 

Din made a small noise that you assumed was a chuckle. “Just because you don’t recognize me doesn’t mean I’m not there,” he pointed out, and you almost asked him what he meant when he slowly took his helmet off, revealing the face of the assassin from yesterday. 

You were silent for much too long before finally taking a frustrated swing at Din. He dodged easily, a smile on his face. “Did I do something wrong?” 

You shook your head, your next move a very powerful hug for Din. “I cannot believe you let me take you down yesterday,” you said happily, still holding him. “Oh my kriffing maker, I can’t believe it!” 

Eventually, you pulled away, examining Din’s face. His cheekbone was still bruised, but he looked healthier, like he’d had a proper meal and bath. “Y’know,” you said, tugging at a small curl that was flopped over on Din’s forehead. “I knew you were handsome under that helmet. But this is unexpected.” 

“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” 

“Oh definitely good unexpected,” you replied. “Was anyone else in on it?” 

Din shook his head. “As far as the council knows, the man from yesterday was legitimately an assassin and is now dead.” 

Over the next few weeks, you shifted in your job, traveling with Din and leaving the council to handle affairs on Mandalore. He was excellent fun on trips, looser and more at ease when it was just the two of you on a ship together. He introduced you as his official right hand man, a title that made you glow with pride. 

And yet, you still dressed the same way. 

Of course, your wardrobe had expanded to include some cold weather outfits, but it was still a mess of chiffons, silks, and expensive furs. You still wore the collar, but Din had insisted on one slight change. You and him visited his armorer, a reserved woman who never removed her helmet, no matter the circumstances, and Din had her make you a pendant for the collar. A beautiful mudhorn signet, just like his. It sat on the dip between your collarbones, the cold metal a constant reminder of your connections to Din. 

“Ready?” He asked, holding his hand out. You were about to step out onto Coruscant to make a deal with several other planet’s leaders. You had draped yourself in embroidered blue silks and chiffon, the collar on display and the hem of the skirt sweeping the floor. It was a fancy occasion that called for fancy clothes. And yet, Din was beside you in his armor, no decorations or anything. 

You nodded. Despite the importance of this meeting and the horrible terror of the various what ifs, you were calm. “Of course. Are you?” 

Din chuckled. He’d put his helmet on, but you could still gauge his facial expressions. “Sure.” 

Stepping off the ship together, you knew people would talk. They always did, exchanging hushed whispers behind their hands. Maybe, if you weren’t dressed as you were, the whispers wouldn’t be as prominent. But you enjoyed your outfits, and didn’t mind the quiet gossip one bit. 

In the end, it was only Din who you sought to please. He was your equal, and yet he was your superior. You desired his smile, his pleased moods, and you would do anything to make him happy. After all, you were there to serve your king.

[citizensofeggtonarchived]

Vix wondered if perhaps dragons were as common in Tangle's world given how interested she was in it, though from what she's learned about the other so far it made sense they were excited about the dragon. "Well, I say at least try to clean it up before you leave, at least every once in awhile. I would use magic to fix this room, though there's a lot of wires and such that magic can't fix if they were broken." While it looked like a normal room underneath the walls, floor, and ceiling were all sorts of wires and tech to power it and allow for virtual battles.

"What I suggest is to give your friend a break from having to clean it form time to time. I'm sure he'll appreciate the effort." Vix had little clue about this Knuckles personality, though he sounded strict himself if he was constantly telling Tangle and her friend to clean up before leaving. Yet the lemur was free to make that choice as if this person kept letting her use it then clearly they were good friends.

Vix would let out a laugh hearing Tangle suggest Kong was a softie underneath his stern and tough exterior. "While as amusing as that would be that man is both tough inside and out." The fennec could say the softest she's seen her bodyguard was when they held tours for grade schoolers and even then all the students would be scared or nervous around the ape. "Though you are welcome to prove me wrong." It would certainly be a sight for the High Queen to seem him truly soften up.

Vix then heard Tangle mention grabbing some food and that her breakfast was on the lighter side. "Then I shall arrange the chiefs to prepare some food for when we finish with the training grounds." The fennec found it only right to make sure her guest was fed. The High Queen was about to start leading the lemur to the training grounds, though had a better idea.

"Let me show you another form of teleportation magic we have here," she said before tapping her staff on the ground. Suddenly everything them would start to bend and twist, almost like everything was becoming distorted. As it continued it was worth nothing that the area around them was changing and soon began returning to normal though now they were outside. In front of them were various people of gender, shape, and size training with a large ape overseeing everything.

One of the trainees saw Vix making them stop training much to the confusion of some others before they too saw her and in a matter of moments everyone had stopped to look at her. "Please, don't mind me. Continue your training as if I weren't here," was all the fennec said, though all this seemed to do was have most of them hesitate to do so.

"YOU HEARD THE QUEEN! BACK TO TRAINING, NOW!" The ape would roar out, his voice extremely deep which easily made everyone continue with their various training. Vix seemed to tune it out as she was used to him shouting at the new soldiers, even taking a moment to look around and see all the trainees. "AND YOU!" He hollered while looking right at Tangle before making his way over. He easily towered over the lemur standing at nearly eight feet which made him taller than Vix. "Where is your standard training uniform!? Do you-" He was suddenly caught off seeing Vix raise her hand. "Yes ma'am?" He asked his attention now on the fennec.

"This isn't a trainee, this is my guest, Tangle" Vix said while motioning to Tangle. "You know everyone would be to scared of the lecture you'd give them after the same speech you've given to every new recruit for so many years." The fennec had to admit that it did leave an impression as no one dare to forget the uniform when Kong was around.

"Ah, then please forgive my Lady Tangle," Kong said with a bow before standing up straight. "When training those who wish to be guards you must have strict ruling at all times or they'll only be chaos." That was what the ape believe anyway.

Her eyes never left the dragons as its eyes and her own locked for a long moment. She felt like the dragon was gazing into her soul, and mesmerized her for what felt like an eternity. Her hand reaching out to place itself upon the giant beasts snoot. She'd never seen a creature so big or majestic. It sort of made metals mockery of such creatures seem more of an affront. She felt so absorbed in the moment it was only Vix's voice that snapped her back to reality.

She felt herself turn to face Vix rubbing the back of her neck and grinning like a big dork! She never left much phase her besides she got to experience---what ever that was!

" Aww it's cool! no biggie! looks about like the arena where Mighty and i spar! so i get it! Knuckles was always tellin' us to clean up before we left! but eessh to tired for that stuff ehe! "

The Training grounds huh? it reminded her of all the rookies back on base and whisper and amy training them. If he was anything like whisper she could handle it. Speaking of she hoped the Wolf didn't come looking for her and panic over her absence. The last thing she needed was stressing her out. Damn now she really did need to get home sooner then later didn't she? She slid her hand into her pocket but the ring was still cold. Not recharged yet so---on with the tour.

" Oh that's fine! no complaints here, i ain't got much place to be as is. I'm sure it'll be fine, i got a few friends like that... bet he's a big softie under all that stern gaze! hehe "

She laughed a bit at the idea of spending the day with the dragon! honestly she wouldn't have minded but---she figured the big fella needed it's rest as much as Twee.

" Ah nah they seem tuckered, better let them sleep! the Training ground is fine, or maybe we could grab some grub? i had a pretty sparse breakfast! "

[wild-karrde]

The Quarry - Part 11

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

The ship Fennec had provided them with was smaller than what Din was used to, but it would get the job done. The cockpit was a two-seater that opened up into the main hold of the ship. There were pull-down bunks along one wall, a refresher built into one corner, and storage cabinets. A rear gunner’s nest complimented the forward turrets, and the engines purred at a pleasant frequency rather than screeching like the TIEs they’d encountered.

Now, they were sitting in deep space, planning their next moves. Versa leaned over the flight computer station, punching in coordinates to the different planets Jesar had named to determine which one was the closest. Din stood behind her as she worked, watching her pause a few times as she checked star maps, examining the planets when she brought them up. Finally, she sighed deeply, spinning to look at him.

“Well, where do you think we should start?” Her exasperation was obvious. He could tell she felt lost and unsure. He rested his hand on the back of her chair, spinning her back to the console as he leaned over her shoulder.

“I’d go with Corellia or Ord Mantell. I can reach out to Karga on Nevarro, so no need to go there, and he can put me in touch with contacts on either of those worlds.”

“Corellia then,” she said.

“Why?”

“If he went to Ord Mantell, then he’s definitely dead,” she said quietly. “That…that’s where Farr’s organization is.

Din nodded quietly. “I’ll ping Karga and see what he knows.” He moved away from her, heading to the cockpit to send the transmission. He tried to contact Karga directly via holo, but received no answer. Cursing quietly under his breath, Din typed out a quick message for Karga to call him as soon as he could and sent that away, resting his palms against the console. He was becoming increasingly concerned that their luck had been too good for too long and that disappointment was sure to be looming.

The sound of Versa grunting from the main hold broke his train of thought. She was shifting some of the empty storage crates that had been left in the ship out of the way, clearing a space in the center. He smirked at her as he strode towards her. “What are you doing?”

She looked up at him, sweat trickling down her forehead. “Clearing a space to work out in, what does it look like I’m doing?”

He shrugged, leaning against the hull as she struggled.

“Don’t bother helping or anything,” she muttered.

“You seem to have things under control,” he said, chuckling as the crate finally budged, catching her off balance as she fell to the floor and it slid against the wall.

“Kriffing smartass,” she muttered.

“Why the sudden need for physical exertion?” he asked.

“Got a lot of pent up nervous energy. Normally, I’d go run a few klicks, but seeing as we’re sitting in dead space waiting to hear back from Karga, I figured I’d make room and do something.” Suddenly, a mischievous grin slid across her face. “You wanna spar?” she asked, her eyes glittering with the challenge.

Din scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

Her tongue slipped between her teeth. “What, you afraid I’ll toss you square on your ass?”

“Doubtful,” he said, his voice low but teasing.

“Oh come on, Din. You’ve got some honor to win back from when we were kids.”

“You were taller than me then. I’ve likely got at least fifteen kilos on you now.”

She stood, swaggering towards him to give him a light shove. “You scared, Mando?”

“Don’t you have enough bruises on you as it is?”

“You seem confident you could put a few more on me.” She was standing inches from him now, her eyebrow cocked as she stared up into his helmet. He had his arms crossed, but his fingers unconsciously flexed and his spine tingled from her proximity. A bead of sweat trickled from her temple down her throat to her collar bone, and it took all of Din’s will power to keep his breathing steady.

He remained unmoving for another half a beat before he slowly reached up and began unstrapping his armor. Versa’s tongue poked out between her teeth again as she wiggled excitedly.

“Rules?” he asked.

She pondered for a second. “No armor, which you’re already taking care of. No face shots since your helmet is staying on. No breaking bones. We’ve got no padding, so easy on the takedowns if possible. I’d rather not dislocate something out here. No weapons of course.”

“You’re really taking all the fun out of this,” he joked. “Stakes?”

“Oh, you wanna put something on this?” She was practically vibrating as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Fine, what do you want if you win?”

I get to kiss you like I’ve always wanted to. He swallowed his knee jerk response like a rock. Absolutely do not say that to her. “Uh…when we get to Corellia, you buy the supplies if I win.”

She scrunched her nose. “That’s boring.”

“You got a better idea?”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the gentleman.”

“I do what I can.”

“Fiiiiiine,” she sighed. “If I win, I get to see what’s in the ammo box.” Din stiffened, and she noticed. “Oh come on, I saved it. The least you can do is tell me what I saved.”

He considered it for a moment, unsure of why he was so hesitant. Will it really change anything? Does she even know the significance? Despite being saved by Clan Viszla when they were children, they’d only ever heard whispers of a legendary weapon, and it hadn’t been until he set eyes on it that he understood the significance of the Darksaber. Even then, he certainly hadn’t grasped what taking it in battle meant. He would have left it on the floor of that Light Cruiser if he’d known Bo-Katan would refuse the weapon when it was offered to her. Maybe Versa had heard of it from Bo-Katan as well, but would having her know he had it be a problem? Probably not.

“Fine.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Alright. You’re on then.”

He helped her shove the last few items out of the way, giving them a good wide space to spar in. He tried to recall any of the tells or cheats she had from when they were younger. She’d been taller then with a longer reach than him and had often been able to sweep his legs out from under him before he could even land a blow. He watched as she sunk into a low defensive position, raising her hands instinctively as they slowly began to circle. He was taller now, but she was still quick. Versa lightly bounced on her feet as she strode around, testing her reach a few times as he swatted her hands away.

On her third attempt, her fingers got around the back of his helmet but slipped on the beskar before she could find purchase on the back of his neck to pull him in.

“Damn thing gives you an unfair advantage,” she panted.

“The helmet stays on.”

“You say that to all the girls you bring home?” she laughed.

“You gonna talk or fight?” he grunted.

“You are absolutely no fun.” She dropped to her knees scrambling forward as she drove her shoulder into his stomach, wrapping her arms around him. He fought to tip his weight forward onto her, digging his heels in as she drove him backwards. Din twisted, trying to get his arms down and around her waist, but she countered him by dropping her hips just out of his grasp. He turned, allowing her momentum to carry them both backwards, twisting as he fell to push his weight on top of her. They landed on her right shoulder and he scrambled to get around on top of her and pin her down, but she was ready, rolling out of his reach. She crouched low as he pushed himself back to his feet.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Vers.”

She kicked out at him and he caught her calf, twisting her leg so that she was flipped onto her back, knocking the wind out of her. He yanked her across the floor towards him, straddling her waist as she recovered. She landed a punch to his kidney and he grunted before trapping her arms and pinning them down.

“Yield,” he said, his voice teasing.

Her eyes glittered below him as he pinned her wrists to the floor, and that familiar tingle ran up his spine. “Hell no,” she gasped back before grounding her feet and bucking her hips upward with unexpected force. He was thrown forward off of her, rolling as he hit the ground. He felt her work around behind him, wrapping her legs around his left thigh and locking his left shoulder in her elbow. She began twisting him backwards, trying to bring his shoulders to the floor. The more he struggled against her, the more she dug her heel into his thigh. He was certain she was bruising him, but he’d lost the ability to care. She leaned close to his helmet, and he could feel her breath on the sliver of his neck that had been exposed when the collar of his shirt had slipped down in the scuffle.

“Do you yield, Mando?”

I want to. I’d yield everything to her without hesitation. I’d show her my face if she’d ask.

Dammit.

Ever since Fennec had seen through him, had told him he loved Versa, more and more thoughts like that had been storming into his mind unbidden. It was like something deep within him had unlocked and now every time she brushed past him or said his name, he ached. Fennec was right, but he also remembered the other things she had said, the warning she’d given, so he held back, shoving what he could back down, keeping his emotions in check. He would not allow her to hurt him like that again, no matter how much he wanted her.

His silence had unnerved her, and he felt her grip loosen on his shoulder. “Din?”

His name jerked him back to the present. He dug is right arm underneath him and used her grip on his shoulder as leverage as he spun on top of her, digging his fingers into her ribs. She squealed underneath him.

“TICKLING…NOT…FAIR!” she yelled in between gasps.

“Wasn’t in the rules,” he growled as he continued to dig his fingers into her ribcage and she panted and shrieked, wriggling underneath him. He grappled her arms to her chest with his left hand, pinning them there as she struggled in his grasp. She swung a knee up to try and connect with his ribs, but he released his hold on her side to catch it and roll her onto her stomach. Versa grunted as she tried to get her arms out from under her, but Din snatched her wrists and pinned them behind her back, digging his elbow into her spine. She turned her face to look at him, trying to find a way out. Her hair was stuck to her forehead. Din put the full weight of his body on her now, keeping her legs straightened so she couldn’t get her feet back underneath her to push him off. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With her arms behind her back and her legs pinned, Versa only managed to wriggle a few inches under his body.

Din rested his helmet against her shoulder and he saw her eyes dart towards his visor, searching for him again, but this time, it was as if she found them, and her irises bored into his. His breath caught in his throat as he whispered in her ear, his voice quietly buzzing through the helmet’s modulator.

“Gotcha, Vers.”

He felt her give her fingers one more experimental flex against his chest, and he tightened his grip on her arms. She chuckled quietly beneath him.

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

He loosened his grip, allowing her to roll over so she was on her back, but he kept his weight on her legs and pinned her arms above her head.

“Say the words.”

“Why Din, whatever do you mean?”

“Say it, Versa.”

She wriggled again underneath him, and he caught her chin with one hand.

“Yield,” he growled.

He didn’t miss the twitch of her hips beneath him or the way her teeth grazed her lower lip for half a second before she stared at him again, her eyes defiant.

“Fine. I yield.”

He didn’t move and neither did she. His hand left her chin, coming to rest on the deck beside her head. Her breath hitched at the loss of contact.

“Din-“

Beep. Beep. Beep.

His head snapped up. In the cockpit, he could see the communication console blinking.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“That’ll be Karga.” He pushed himself up off of her, ignoring the way his legs felt unsteady beneath him and the way she didn’t move for a few seconds after he got up. As quickly as he could, he strode to the cockpit, blood pounding in his ears. He dug his fingers into his palms. Get it together. He slammed the button to accept the incoming holo, slumping into the seat as Karga’s figure glowed blue in front of him.

“Mando, my friend! I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon. And I see you still have your delightful companion with you.”

Din felt Versa’s presence behind him as she stepped into the hologram’s viewing range. She nodded in acknowledgement of Karga. Her fingers trailed over the back of the chair, her fingertips grazing his shoulder. He had to fight every nerve in his body not to shudder at the contact.

“I need some information from you,” Din said, his voice steady. “I’m sending you a prison file. Did the man in the file contact you in the last five years looking for a sister?” Din watched as Karga pulled out a datapad, punching through the file.

“Can’t say that I’ve seen this young man before. Who is he?”

Din hesitated.

“My brother,” Versa said from behind him. “Jon.”

Greef’s face saddened slightly. “I see. I’m sorry I cannot help you. He never came to me.”

Din heard Versa’s breath shudder slightly behind him. He knew what she was thinking. If he didn’t find her, then why wouldn’t he go through the entire list Jesar gave him.

“Alright, he may also have checked with the Guild Master on Corellia. Can you tell me who to contact there?”

Karga nodded. “A Rodian named Gruke Trefna runs that organization. Little rough around the edges. Kind of depends on the mood he’s in. Likely won’t give you information for free. I’d tread carefully.”

Din nodded. “Where can I find him?”

“The Gilded Descent Casino.”

“Got it.”

“Be careful, Mando. There’s a lot of rumblings right now about Miss Horne. I understand the less than savory Boros Farr is after her. Not the guy you want to get on the wrong side of.”

Din nodded before disconnecting. Versa stood quietly behind him for a few minutes, drumming her fingers on the back of his chair. “Alright, make a list of supplies you want me to buy while you meet with this Trefna character,” she said.

“You’re not going by yourself.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“No, we stick together from here on out. If word has reached Karga that Farr is looking for you, it’s not safe anywhere. I’ll go with you to grab supplies, but you’re still buying.”

She nodded, letting out a low chuckle. “Yeah, ok, but I want a rematch later.”

Din’s spine tingled again as he remembered how he’d had her pinned to the floor beneath him just a few minutes ago. Versa turned to head out of the cockpit, but he grabbed her arm. She looked at him, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

“Sit,” he said, indicating the seat next to him. She slowly sat down, still confused by his request. Din reached down to where he’d stashed the ammo box under the flight console. He rotated his chair towards her and leaned forward.

“Din, I didn’t win. You don’t have to show me.”

“I want you to know,” he said. “I’m not sure if you’ll know what it is or understand the significance, but…well, it’s important.”

Versa’s brows furrowed in further confusion as she reached forward and gently took the box from his hands. Gingerly, she set it on her lap and undid the clasp, raising the lid. Inside, the hilt of the Darksaber glinted in the dim cockpit lighting. Reaching in, she held it in her palm, testing the weight of it.

“Careful with it. The activation switch is on the edge of the hilt.”

Versa eyed him before pointing the hilt away from them into the main hold and activating the switch. The blade ignited, glowing black with white edges, humming in her hands. Din heard her inhale sharply.

“Din…this…is this what I think it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

She shut the activation switch off, plunging the cabin back into its dim lighting. “Din, is this the Darksaber? The weapon that Bo-Katan has been searching for?”

“It is.”

“How…how did…when?”

“When I was rescuing the child. The Imperial that was holding him, Moff Gideon, was also in possession of the Darksaber. I defeated him and won it.”

She huffed. “Bo-Katan couldn’t have been happy.”

“I tried to give it to her, but she wouldn’t accept.”

“Of course she wouldn’t. You have to win this in battle. Although, it was given to her the first time, but under very different circumstances.”

He felt his brows crease under his helmet. “How did you know about it?”

“I heard a story once when we were young. I think you were out on some training exercise. It was one of those legends that’s whispered in the dark by children, unfathomable that it would be true. Something told to inspire us to uphold Mandalorian traditions. That was when I pieced together that the Darksaber was the weapon that Clan Viszla had alluded to.” She ran her thumb over the hilt. “Bo-Katan had mentioned that she was searching for this Moff Gideon. She offered to pay me for any information I could bring to her that would lead to his capture, but he was a hard man to find. One evening after a few whiskeys, she told me what she was looking for. I didn’t believe her at first, but she had that look in her eye when she spoke of reclaiming Mandalore, you know the one. I knew that there was no way she was chasing a legend. It was tangible, and she wanted it back badly.” She laughed again. “I can’t believe you have this.”

“I don’t want it.”

Something about those words changed something within her, and her face fell slightly. “Yeah well, it would seem you’re destined to be a Mandalorian, regardless of what you or anyone else wants.” Her last words came out with a mild sneer, and Din stared at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She turned the hilt over in her hands a few more times before tossing it back in the box, shutting the lid, and handing it back to him. “I’m going to bed if that’s alright with you, your highness.” Her tone was sarcastic and biting.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer King of Mandalor, or will you just be taking the traditional title of Mand’alor?”

“Versa, I don’t want this.”

“And yet, here it is. You can’t walk away from this, Din. It’s not in your nature. You’re a good, loyal soldier. Even if you don’t want it, you’ll do what you think is right, what they think is right. You’ve got to reclaim Mandalore, revive your culture. This is The Way and all that.”

He hung his head, staring down at the box. “I never should have shown you.”

“No, I’m glad I know. It’s good to know where we’ll stand after all of this is over.”

“What the kriff are you talking about?”

“I’m not welcome in that culture, Din. I’m considered a traitor.”

“Did Bo-Katan tell you that?”

“No. I…nevermind.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Yeah it is.”

She turned and stalked out of the cockpit, but he grabbed her arm, spinning her back around. “What is this about? I don’t understand why-“

“I CAME BACK, DIN.” she yelled, and he saw tears in her eyes as she looked back at him.

“What?” He felt like his knees were buckling underneath him, and he leaned heavily against the wall.

“I came back. A few months after I left. I was turned away and told I was a traitor to the Creed, that I was never welcome among Mandalorians again. They…they told me you’d never forgive me for what I’d done and that you hated me…that you’d taken the Creed and were loyal to The Way. They threatened to kill me if I ever came back or breathed a word to anyone about where they were. So pardon me if I don’t necessarily see Mandalorian culture as one worth saving or reviving. But if you want to be their king, by all means, don’t let me stand in your way.”

“Not all Mandalorians are like that.”

“No, but you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Aren’t you, Din? You abide by the Creed. Hell, I don’t even know what your face looks like, and I never will unless I defeat you, and then you can never put it back on, right? That’s how it works?” She wrenched her arm away from him. “I thought maybe you were finding your own way, but I see now there is only the Way, right?”

“Others have seen my face. I told you that.”

“But only when you felt it was absolutely necessary. And here you are, helmed again, a good little Mandalorian, a Child of the Watch to the end.”

His anger was growing within him. “You told me you never thought about coming back,” he said, a quiet accusation in the statement.

“I lied, Din.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter now? You weren’t going to come with me anyway. You wanted to be one of them.”

“Versa, they took us in and trained us.”

“They tortured us, Din. Or have you forgotten why I’m afraid of dark, tight places?”

“They saved us.”

“They ruined us. How can you defend them? How can you still be one of them?”

He stood silently, unbending beneath his helmet. She’d landed blows, but his spine was rigid as he loomed over her, the cold beskar meeting her icy stare. She couldn’t see his internal struggle as he tried to process everything she’d just said. She came back. She tried, and was turned away. By Mandalorians, by those that I thought of as kin. He felt his chest tighten. Everything was tilted on its axis and it felt as if the ground beneath Din was crumbling underneath his boots, just as it had the first time Bo-Katan had told him about the Children of the Watch. He stood silently until Versa turned on her heel and stormed into the hold.

[snarwor]

Sudden random thought but: Din and Boba meeting in a bdsm club. Maybe Xi'an is abusing Din and Boba intervenes OR just cute smutty fluff w kneeling and feels!

The fucking teakettle noise my brain is making I LIKE U

Listen this is my first headcanon format thing so bear with me 😅

Because power structure Boba OWNS the club

As much as I love proper BDSM in fics my feral need to hurt/comfort Din Djarin is greater, so yes, this would be his first time at one of these clubs, and would be wearing the little wristband marking him a sub, and club regulars would see Xi’an going for him and get uneasy

Especially when Boba’s watchdog alights on it from where she’s ignoring eight other suitors

Fennec knows they love being ignored but this is a different kind of captured attention

She’d have some kinda comm, and go “boss,” and that’s IT Boba just APPEARS

and it seems like the whole club is just watching this go down, they’ve all heard rumors of Boba Fett handling things himself, the man’s gigantic and hard to miss, and when he sees Fennec’s eyeline the temperature in the whole club drops

All they can hear is the slap of a palm on a face too sweet to need it, those closer to the scene can see the tremble in the shy sub’s shoulders as he tries to keep it together

And this wasn’t what Din signed up for either, this isn’t fun and hadn’t been since Xi’an had found him

Everyone holds their breath when they hear an almost lyrical tone growl out, “Why don’t you check what his color is, Xi’an?”

And she hadn’t even heard him come up, wrapped up in the cruelty of it all. Din’s face is flushed and he is miles away now, trying to think of anything but this. He doesn’t even know if he can speak, let alone check in.

Trying to save her own ass, Xi’an scoffs and says “He wasn’t any fun anyway,” and walks away before anyone can punish her.

It’s like the whole club had fallen away when Boba kneels down to look at Din. His face is burning with embarrassment. He doesn’t even like being in public, always felt too exposed, can’t even look up at Boba because what if he’s just as bad? He’s got a bright red band tattooed on his thick wrist, some facsimile of the Dom wristbands half the club is wearing.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere quiet, little one?” Boba would ask, his voice much softer and oh. Yeah. Din could follow him anywhere.

It’s on shaky knees that he follows Boba through the club, and it’s funny that Boba wanted to take him somewhere quiet, when the place was still as a graveyard.

The moment they’re through a velvet curtain Fennec steps into power, snapping at the eight suitors to get her a drink. The club goes back to normal, though everyone wants to know what’s happening behind the curtain....

Where Boba is handing Din a water bottle and taking a seat in a wide armchair. And Din feels...not guilty, but he knows he doesn’t want to be the taller one right now. He has no idea what to make of the other man, and his confusion and indecision must show becayse Boba crooks a finger at him and he nearly falls into it.

There’s a cushion by the chair that Din kneels at warily. “What’s your name?” Din asks, before he can stop himself.

“I am Boba. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” the answer is nearly punched out of him by the care in his tone. “What are we—”

“What I want you to do, little one,” Boba would say, bringing a hand to rest on his thigh. A massive hand. A hand Din knows could do much more than Xi’an, but he wants on him anyway. “Is relax.”

And that might be asking too much because Din Djarin and ‘relax’ haven’t been on the same planet, let alone sentence, in years. But for Boba, he’d try. Something about him says safety, even if most of him says danger. Maybe Din’s too fucked up for this.

But the second his head rests down on Boba’s thigh, it all goes away. The club, the sting in his cheek, the embarrassment, the worry, the billion other things Din has on his mind, they leave without a fight.

“Good, little one.”

And those words are two things Din never knew he wanted to be. And yet here he is, and he never wants to leave.

[lordabovehelpme]

Lordy! I’m in distress after Mandalorian finale! Can you give us your best fluff? Maybe something about starting a family with Din or comforting him or just lots of affection or all of the above??? Idk but I need some Fluff and you’re the best there is🥺💕

Cold- Din Djarin x Reader

A/n: I am too still trying to recover and process what happened!!! But I am so happy to hear from you. And I am honored that you think I’m so good at writing fluff. I hope this lives up to your expectations! 

Warnings: Season 2 Finale spoilers, pregnancy

Masterlist 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think they’re okay?”

Boba Fett turns to look at you, you don't need to see his face to know he is done with your questions.

“I don’t know,” you look down at your hands placed over your swollen stomach, “I just have a bad feeling.” Your husband had practically begged you to stay on the ship with Fett, as you would be “safe.”

“I’m sure they are fine.” Even his voice tells you how annoying you are, he turns back to face the flashing lights of hyperspace as you two fly away to the designated meeting spot.

Subconsciously, your hands rub over your stomach until you find where your child is. On your right side, you can feel the bump of your unborn son's butt. Being able to touch him calms you down, it grounds you.

***

You don’t know why, but your heart sinks when their ship comes into view. “Something isn’t right!” Fett turns towards you and his helmet tilts.

“I have received no distress call, they are fine.”

“No, no no no. Something is wrong.” You stand up from your seat and start pacing around. The powerful thumps of your heartbeat ring throughout your ears and your stomach does flips with nausea. But you know this is not because of your son, it is something more.

When the doors open and the crew walks in you eyes search for your husband. When he walks though, instantly you run into his arms. You feel him rest almost all his weight onto you, he is off about something.

Wrapping your arms around him, you peer over his shoulder, looking for your adopted child. You can only feel your heart sink lower. “Honey, where’s ad’ika?”

Cara throws you a saddened look and she turns away. It's then when you hear the faint sniffle from your husband you heart finally shatters. Fennec walks over and places her hand on top of your own. “Why don’t you both head to the sleeping quarters and rest. You’ll be needing your privacy.”

When she walks over to Cara you turn your head into the crevice between Din’s helmet and his shoulder. “Come on, big boy. Let’s go and you can tell me all about what happened.”

You feel his head slightly nod and as you let go of him, he grabs your hand. Something in your mind yells at you to be strong for him. You don’t know why you need to, but you just have a feeling.

Once the doors are closed behind you two, Din rips his helmet off and falls to his knees. His large palms reach out for you and pull you against him. His head rests on your stomach and his hands clutch your hips, as if he lets go you’ll vanish.

Running your hands through his soft curls, your own eyes well up with tears at the sound of his cry. “He…” The mandalorian hiccups and he moves his head so he can meet your eyes. “A jedi found us and…” Your heart shatters into a billion pieces when you see a tear trail down his cheek. “He’s with his own kind now.”

Closing your eyes, your own tears run down your cheeks. You know you should be happy, but instead you feel like a piece of you is missing. 

You feel cold.

***

As Din goes over every event that happened while on that ship, you just stand there and clutch his hair, eyes now puffy with how much you’ve cried. “But we will see him again… right?”

“Of course, cyare. I promised him.” His voice is muffled, as he is pressed against your stomach. You feel a little better now, but it could just be because you’re in shock.

Slowly, you lower yourself onto the ground and into his arms. Tucking yourself away from the world, you breathe in his scent. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“Cyar’ika?” He sounds hesitant and you hum, “Promise me you’ll never leave.”

Leaning back to face him, you look into his eyes. Swirls of pain and sadness dance in his orbs.

“Baby, I’ve been yours since the day I met you. Neither I nor this little guy,” you bring his hands to your stomach, “will ever leave you. You’re stuck with us.”

You watch as a small smile forms on his lips, before he smashes them against your own. He cradles the back of your head with one hand, while the other rubs over your stomach.

***

It takes a little over a week for you both to even start to recover. You’ve decided that Din was right, Grogu should be able to continue his abilities with someone who knows about it. It’s just weird without his little hands patting your leg, or his coos of excitement.

You’ve both also prepared more for the son you are about to let loose in the world. Din always has at least one hand on your stomach. Whenever you have to go to the bathroom, you literally have to pry yourself from his hold.

Being pregnant has its perks, such as getting the only sleeping quarters available on the ship while everyone else has to pile up in the hull. And, no one has really said anything mean about it either.

The only thing you can think of is how Cara has a running joke that she would have married you if she knew she would get bed privileges. You always laugh it off with everyone else, but you don't miss the way Din stands a little taller and his hand squeezes you a little tighter.

Tonight, you decided to head in early. Usually everyone will sit around and tell stories of their past adventures, but you just felt so tired. Not wanting to harm your husband's fun, you practically had to lock him out of the room. You know he enjoys the company of these friends, and you don't want to ruin it one bit.

***

You hear the loud booming laughter and cries of embarrassment die down and soon enough, the door opens and closes. The lights had already been turned off, so you can only hear the faint clank of metal on metal when he takes off his armor.

The blanket lifts up from your body and you hiss at the chill. A chuckle falls from his lips and two strong arms wrap themselves around your body, pulling you into a firm chest.

You turn your head to kiss his lips but he turns away. “Hold on, I have some business to discuss.” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at his statement. He lifts the blanket again and shimmies under them. Having no idea where he is going with this, you just lay there and stare into the dark room.

His hands trace your hips and find purchase at the bottom of the shirt you wore to bed. You call it your shirt, but it's really one of his old tunics. He lifts the shirt and places it over his head.

“Hello, ad’ika. Now we need to discuss the plans for this next month.”

The tone of his voice is so serious you can't help but burst out laughing. Your hands fly to your mouth to try and conceal your sound but you're practically crying now.

Your husband brings his head from under your shirt and lifts the blanket to give you the meanest glare he can. “Excuse me Miss, but this is a serious meeting. You need to calm down and control yourself.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you try as hard as you can to stifle your giggles. Seemiling pleased with this, your husband lets the blankets fall on top of you again and moves back under your shirt.

“Sorry for the noise. I hope that won’t harm our agreement.”

Giggling as hard as you can, you listen to the “serious meeting” Din is having with your son over his arrival time. He even stops and presses his ear to your stomach at times as if he can really hear your son.

Finally after a few minutes, they say their goodbyes and part their ways. Your husband shifts back up to your side and he still has a serious look on his face.

“How was the meeting?” Your voice falters in the middle at how ridiculous the whole situation is.

“Uneventful. Even though we agreed and made lots of points, he is unwilling to give me a set date!” Din huffs.

“How inconsiderate!” Biting back a smile, you trace his jawline and scratch at his scruff. Your heart swells and grows with joy and passion. “I love you.”

His lips meet your own and they move in a slow waltz of adoration. “Hmm.” He bites your bottom lip before pulling back and kissing your forehead. “Love you too, Cyar’ika.” He nuzzles his chin on top of your head and tucks you into his chest.

Your eyelids drift closed and your thoughts fade away into a faint hum. The pound of Din’s heartbeat echoes through your chest and your own seems to match.

Just two souls entwined by love. One more, far away, and another along the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, there it is. I hope you guys liked it!

Feedback is totally appreciated! 

Love, Lordy :) 

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space

[citizensofeggtonarchived]

Twee was a bit surprised he managed to make an ice wall so quickly, though it was easy enough to shatter thanks to the ice on her hand which shattered as well. The fennec was quick to react as she blocks the headbutt, yet it still ends up sending her back rather easily. She maintains her balance as she slides back on the ice until she was out of range of the froze deck and on solid ground once more. "Whew, almost felt that one." Her magic barrier was close to breaking where he headbutt showing he wasn't holding back with that one.

"As fun as this back and forth as been, I'm starting to get bored," Twee said as she popped both her shoulders. "So, I'll show you just how strong a Darling is." The fennec would clap her hands together and close her eyes, starting to take deep breaths as she began to build up her magic. Slowly she began to spread her hands apart as lighting began to build up. "Ya know, lightning is one of the most difficult and unstable magic to pull off which is why I spent a good amount of time to perfect it." It was a high advantage she held above most and she was more than willing to show it off. Soon enough she ended up forming a ball of lightning about the size of a a soccer ball as she switch to holding it in one hand. "Alright, time to go to sleep big guy," she said, getting ready to toss it as.

Just as Twee reed her arm back to throw it a much taller fennec appeared behind her and with one hand crushed the ball of lightning into nothing. "Twee," she said causing the smaller fennec to freeze. "This is very unbecoming of a Darling. Now, stand down before you cause more of a mess." It was clear the new comer meant business seeing as Twee simply grumbled before walking behind the other with her arms crossed and a angry expression.

"You'll have to excuse my younger sister Donkey Kong. She has always been quick to pick a fight," Vix said as she began to approach Donkey Kong, the ice before her melting upon each step she took forward, clearing a perfect path to the other. "I am Vix Darling, acting High Queen. I do hope Twee didn't cause too many problems for you." The High Queen would extend a hand for the ape to shake, should he be willing to that is.

@citizensofeggton

"It's just a basic magic barrier, though with someone of my skill I might as well be wearing amour with how strong I can make it." Twee was a Darling after all which means her magic was on another level compared to the average person so even using magic of a basic level would be powerful. Of course the fennec wasn't going to ignore the fact that DK managed to crack it with pure physical force alone. Most would say it's an impressive feat, though to her it was average at best. "Well, unlike most I speak the truth, though I don't much care if you believe me." Twee couldn't say she was surprised as it wasn't the first time someone doubts she was naturally this strong due to her size, at least compare to someone with a bigger build like DK. "Then get a move on already, I don't got all day." The fennec had to meet up with her sister sooner or later so couldn't afford to waste too much time. She was honestly curious about these power-ups the ape mentioned as it sounded different from magic. Twee raises a brow as DK began to look around, wondering just what he was looking for, though then watched as he walked away while being told to wait. The fennec was more than confused, though observed the ape closely as he hit some kind of floating blog with a question mark on it which caused it to become a plain brown one. Now she was curious as it looked like he grabbed something from it, though her attention went to his fur changing to a light blue color with some white. "Well, now you have my attention," she said, standing up. Twee rolled her eyes at seeing the same move again, throwing a quick jab once he was in range, though missed as he rolled around her. The fennec jumping back as DK slammed his fist into the deck which began to freeze it much to her surprise. She landed on top of the ice, easily finding her footing as she began to skate on it. Should the other be paying attention he'd notice a thin layer of magic on her feet reacting to the ice beneath her. She then began to casually dodge the ice balls, even showing off a bit by doing flipping over a few. Soon enough she was within striking range, dodging another ice ball with a spin while also attracting some of the ice on the ground to her hand making an ice like gauntlet as she threw a punch aiming strait for his chin.

"Oh sure...sure. Basic...MOST PEOPLE DON'T HAVE BASIC MAGIC." He growls, rising on both feet to better pop his shoulders as he glares ahead. Even if there were power ups, Kongs were particularly anti on the subject. Mainly because the idea of a battle to see who was best was best determined by physical strength alone. So, it was with a twinge of guilt that he even considered grabbing a magic aid...though his Dad wasn't here to judge him, and DK actually enjoyed fucking around with magic some times. Just for fun.

"All right, all riiiight. So impatient for somebody who wants to fight." Grumbling, he shifts, foot digging into the boardwalk as he slides it backward and prepares to lunge.

As the boardwalk became a temporary ice rink that likely wouldn't last long thanks to the island's tropical climate, he smirks when she lands and slips around. Bingo. Though the magic that appears as her skates has him gritting his teeth and kneading knuckles impatiently in the ground...that was fine. He could knock her off them, right? At least he attempts to, shooting ice balls one after another and continuously keeping the ice rink solid due to his efforts under the blazing sun.

When she circled back around to throw a punch, he grits his teeth and proceeded to sling his hand up from the ground and cross to his body, dragging a wall of ice up from the ground to form a barrier for her to punch and shatter. The exploding ice clings to the fur on his face, but he wastes no time in screwing his eyes shut and headbutting forward towards her post attack middle section.

"RrraH!"

[vaderssidechick]

Fic Snippet: What It Feels Like To Be Queen, Part II (Boba Fett/Fennec Shand Smut--(NSFW)

Explicit. Just warning ya.  A low growl rumbled through his vocoder before he reached up, yanked his helmet off, tangled a fist into her thick black hair, and crushed her lips into his, licking into her mouth. 

His scarred lips spilling into her mouth didn’t repel Shand, but roused her even more. Sure, she’d had many partners over the years-- too many at times. And many were younger and taller, with pretty-boy holovid looks and all the brains of a left-handed spanner. They were fun… for a while. 

Fett wasn’t pretty and Fett wasn’t fun. Fett was danger. Fett was violence. Fett was ruthlessness and drive and animal instinct to survive. He was everything she was to the bone.  

Shand broke the kiss to meet his onyx-hued eyes with her own, running her thumb over a scar under his eye. He in turn released her hair and returned the gesture, a momentary lapse of tenderness. “So,” he whispered, his lip snarling into a smile, “how should I make you feel like a Queen? On this throne?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

“Why not? You’ve dispatched our audience rather well. And it’s your throne too.” Boba leaned up and took her chin between his teeth. “I say we break it in proper,” he growled against her skin. 

Shand’s eyes fluttered as her cunt clenched. However, she glanced around the filthy courtroom, which looked like it hadn’t been power-washed since Jabba’s death. “I don’t particularly want to get naked in here.”

“No need,” Boba chuckled. “Just peel that front panel off your trousers.”

She cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “What do you have in mind--”

“Do it,” Fett ordered with narrowed eyes. 

Only Boba Fett could talk to her like that and not only live, but get into her pants as well-- which seemed to quite literally about to happen at this moment. Slowly, Shand slid back to her feet and undid the snaps on the double-sided panel, a design she purposely chose for efficiency and convenience-- because losing precious minutes having to fumble with trousers to relieve herself could mean missing a target she spent days staking out. And like now, it had other benefits as well. 

Tossing it aside, she stood before him, eyes slit with lust and anticipation. Boba honed his gaze on the luscious mons bared before him, softly furred and already dewy for him. His cock bulged against his trousers to the point of pain, but he was in no hurry for relief-- they had time. He crooked a finger. “Closer.” Shand obliged, taking a step into him. That vicious smile returned to his lips. “Brace yourself, Queen”.

With a speed and strength that most men could only dream of, Fett hooked his hands into the creases of her thighs and hoisted her up and over him, aligning her cunt directly over his mouth. Fennec yelped, finding herself suddenly airborne, and grasped the back of the throne on either side of Boba’s bald head. He chuckled, his breath puffing over her folds. “Show me how strong you are,” he rasped as he lowered her down to kiss her cunt the same way he kissed her mouth.

Shand let out a low roar, bracing herself on the throne, arms stiff, legs spread, and abdomen tight, holding herself taut as Boba effortlessly held her up. Of course, the cybernetics knitted into her abs definitely helped, in more ways than one-- they not only strengthened her core, but the neural pathways connecting to her spinal cord were also wired into her pelvic floor. While she liked sex before, it didn’t compare to the surge of physical electricity she could feel now.

When it came to this act, Boba was a veritable glutton. Nothing tasted as good as a woman or satisfied as much, not even a fat bounty, and gods knew he'd had his share across the galaxy. But Fennec was a delicacy in of herself-- a brute just like him, but tasted sweeter than Alderaani honey and smelled as clean as the rainy season on Kamino. Since he found her half-dead on the Tatooine sands and healed her, their attraction grew as well as their partnership, and a day hadn’t gone by without him gorging on her at least twice. And he did just that, flattening his tongue along her pink, flicking her clit, delving his tongue up and in while squeezing her thighs purple.

And oh, the sounds she made. None of those mewling pitches Jabba’s girls or a well-paid whore would squeak out, pretending to like that they were being taken by the galaxy’s most ruthless killer. No, Fennec growled, grunted, and roared when she took her pleasure from him--- and it filled the cavernous den and bounced off the walls into his ears, urging him on.

Shand ground herself into Fett’s mouth, teeth and eyes clenched, her body tensing like a laser crossbow. She suddenly remembered Fortuna’s bloated corpse on the floor behind her, and when she imagined his dead eyes staring at the two of them desecrating the throne that he never deserved, she let out a howling laugh that only intensified the orgasm building inside her. Boba responded by pulling her even harder against his mouth, relentlessly licking and even sinking his teeth into her mons. 

That pushed her over the edge. Fennec threw back her head and vised Boba’s head between her thighs as the cybernetically-enhanced orgasm ripped through her, a guttural roar filling the throne room that spooked the womp rats living in the walls into scurrying. She shook and growled, her hips bucking once, twice, until she came all the way down in every way, collapsing on her arms on the back of the throne. 

Chuckling deep in his chest, Boba grabbed her waist and slid her down his torso to settle her in his lap. He devoured her mouth once more, swallowing Shand’s gasps for air whole. Finally, he pulled away and let her breathe for a moment, but only for one-- because he rocked to his booted feet and hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and descended the dias. “Come on.”

Still panting, Shand breathed, “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you’ll feel better about getting naked,” Boba replied before taking her lips again and carrying her out of the courtroom and into a narrow corridor. 

Even as they moved through the palace, Fett never stopped on her mouth and lips, knowing these palace halls like the back of his hand, never even needing to see where he was going. Fennec caught bursts of double-sunlight that streamed through strategic shafts in the ceilings behind her closed eyes, trusting her King to know his way-- when he suddenly stopped and broke their kiss. 

“Seems you didn’t dispatch our entire audience,” he whispered as he glared over her shoulder. 

Fennec knit her brow and shifted in his hold, indicating that he put her down, and he complied, never taking his eyes off the intruder. Once her feet touched floor, Shand turned to see for herself. A tall, lanky, spotted-skinned Theelin-human hybrid female stood in the shafted Tatooine sunlight, dressed in an animal-skin bodysuit, her electric-red hair spiked high all over her head, her face a mix of terror and awe. 

Boba still held Fennec close. She felt his chuckle through his armor. “Rystall Sant. You still haunt these halls?”

Shand slit her eyes. “You know this bitch?”  

“We’ve met.” His tone was dismissive, but not dismissive enough. Shand didn’t like it, glaring bolts at the alien woman.

Rystall panted, poised on the tip of the choice to stay or run, when she suddenly cried out, “Hail Boba Fett, new Ruler of Tatooine!”