#grogu makes a good water bottle

[wynjara]

I wanted a cuddly Grogu

The really good commercial toys are expensive and the affordable ones are just okay. So now I have a hot water bottle cover to snuggle. It is also just okay, but I didn't have to buy any of the supplies and it was fun to make, so I accept this :)

[25centsoda]

DinLuke Fic in honor of AO3 Down

Chapter 1 of my five-chapter wip (currently getting my ass kicked by chapter 3) to feed the starving masses on this terrible day of AO3 Down. Fic and summary subject to change by the time I finish, edit, and finally post it. Fair warning this chap is 9 pages on my google doc.

Summary: After rescuing Grogu, Din retired to a quiet life as a lighthouse keeper with his son. Unfortunately, his life is determined to be anything but quiet.

Tags: Mermaid au, DinLuke, Din Djarin, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, Cara Dune, Moff Gideon, Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine, Little Mermaid-ish, fantasy au, modern au, AAC, autistic Grogu, nonspeaking Grogu, Din was a hitman

EDIT: AUGH apparently AO3 came back up while I was posting. Was supposed to be down for 3 more hours...smh. Anyways, enjoy ig!

There was a merman lying on the rocky beach, above the tidal line, not twenty feet away.

Din rubbed his eyes. Blinked. The merman was still there.

He turned around.

Turned back.

Still there.

His gaze drifted up to the clouds as he thought, mind churning like stormy waves. Had he had breakfast that morning? Or water? Dehydration did things to the brain, right? Maybe the kid had kept him up too late and he was dreaming…

A rock landed very near his foot. He looked down.

The merman was waving to him. Propped up on one pale arm, with blue…gills? Fins? Waving merrily just behind his ears. There were more fins along the back of each arm. He was smiling and mouthing something, but no sound was coming out.

Din better not be hallucinating.

He picked his way across the rocks and stopped in front of the…fish. Man. Gods above, there were scales on this man’s bare stomach, and just below his belly button the skin faded entirely into blue scales, and his lower half was…

The merman flapped his tail, silently laughing. It slapped the ground with a wet sound.

Din could only stare.

The merman waved his hand, bringing Din’s attention back to his face, which was unfairly beautiful, a fact that Din elected to ignore. He began signing animatedly and mouthing something, but it wasn’t any sign language Din knew, and he’d never been great at reading lips.

Din shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

The merman stopped signing with a huff. He bit his lip, looking around. There wasn’t much to see. This beach was isolated—that’s why Din had chosen it. There was nothing around except for chunks of pale rocks in varying sizes, the water, and, distantly, grassy dunes. And the lighthouse Din was paid to keep.

“Hold on,” Din said. He got several steps away before another thrown rock reminded him to say, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something that will help.”

It was a long walk back to the lighthouse, but it was a walk he made every other day, to ensure that nothing weird or dangerous had washed up. And it was a good thing, too, because evidently something had washed up. Or…someone? Din wasn’t really sure how to refer to a literal merman. He still wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing.

Grogu was waiting at the door for him, one little hand holding the doorframe as he leaned out of it, waving his device. “Ba!” he shouted. His black hair fell into his face—Din needed to cut it soon—as he looked down to make selections. As Din neared, the device read out, “Dad where go? Why back soon?”

Din tousled his son’s hair. “Just came back to grab something real quick, buddy. I’ve gotta go out again.”

Grogu tilted his head in question.

Din passed him, entering the kitchen. “I don’t know what I’ve found. Somebody that needs help, I think.”

.

.

.

Din made his way back to the beach. The merman was still there. Din wished he had thought to grab himself a bottle of water, or a snack or something, but the fact that the man was still there boded well for Din’s mental faculties, if not for the logic of the universe.

“Can you read English? D’you even know English? Do you know what I’m saying?”

Din felt stupid, talking to some hallucination-man-fish-thing, but the man nodded, so Din took that as a yes.

“Okay. Uh, well I have this.” He held out the communication board that he had brought. It was laminated—they all were, so that they would last longer—so it wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that the man reaching out a hand to take it was still dripping wet. Din had grabbed the hospital board rather than any of the core boards or fringe vocabularies, thinking that it would be the most useful. It wasn’t like Grogu already had a single-page board for mermaid trapped on the beach, and Din figured that the man was likely to be injured or hurting in some way, being so far up on the rocks. “Point to whatever you want to say.”

The merman examined the green board with interest, front and back. He seemed to read every icon carefully. The back had the alphabet and “YES”/”NO” along the bottom, a section labeled “I WANT”, a section labeled “I AM”, “I WANT TO SEE”, and a section containing icons for yes, no, thank you, stop, pen/paper. The front had pictures of a blank, uncolored body showing the front and back view with a pain scale in the middle, and icons describing different types of pain like itches, stings, can’t move. Along the sides of the front were requests for items, bathroom, and like that, don’t like, repeat that, speak louder.

After a while, Din said, “Well? Are you, uh, injured, or anything?”

The man scanned the board again, and finally pointed to the image of a glass labeled Water. As he did so, Din noticed that his fingers were webbed halfway together, with shimmering blue, nearly-transparent webbing. He looked up at Din.

“Right. Right.” Din found himself swinging his arms as he looked around the beach. He forced himself to stop. “I can. Uh.” How heavy could a fish-man be? Probably very heavy. Still—“I can bring you back to the ocean?”

The merman shook his head vehemently, eyes wide. Din noticed for the first time that they were blue, like the man’s fins. The man pointed to the red icon labeled NO over and over.

Din held up a placating hand. “Okay, okay. No ocean. Got it.” He didn’t understand in the slightest, but the message was clear. “What if I bring up a bucket?”

The man nodded.

Din…didn’t have a bucket on him. Luckily, there was a storage shed not too far from here—there was a dock about half a mile back. Once he had a bucket and filled it with water, he hesitated.

“Do you want me to just—” Din made a motion like he was going to throw the water on him.

The man gestured for the bucket. Din handed it over. The man dipped his hand in and splashed the water on the fins sticking out of his head.

Huh. Maybe those were his gills, or…something. Din didn’t exactly know that much about fish biology. Mostly what he knew about was killing. And, slowly, how to care for a nonspeaking toddler.

“Are you lost? Are you, uh, hungry?”

The man pointed to Thank you. 

Din was suddenly seized with the urge to know—”What’s your name? If—if you can spell it.” If a merman knew English, he could spell his name in English, right? Or would it be all clicks and whistles, like a dolphin?

He watched as the man spelled L—U—K—E.

“Luke.”

A nod and a smile.

“Luke,” Din said again, and wasn’t it enough that the man had an unfairly attractive face and, if he was already admitting things to himself anyway, body? Did he have to have a name that moved in Din’s mouth like that?

N—A—M—E—?

“What?”

Luke spelled it out again.

“Oh, my name.” Gods, Din was an idiot. “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Din. Luke mouthed the name, smiling. Din felt like he was going to combust.

“Uh, if you’re not going to go back in the ocean…” Din paused again. Luke shook his head wildly, almost unbalancing himself. Din forged on. “...would you like to come to my house? I have a bathtub I can fill with salt water for you; it’s probably more comfortable than these rocks.”

Luke pointed to Yes.

“Okay, great.”

It was quite the job getting Luke to his house. He’d thought he was pretty strong, but they had to take several breaks for Din to catch his breath. The merman was slimy in his arms, his scales rough. Luke held on to the (emptied) bucket and the hospital communication board. By the time they got back to the house, the sun was beginning to set, Din’s arms and shirt were rubbed raw, and Grogu was angry—at least, he was until he saw what Din had in his arms.

Grogu squealed. His device read out, “Mermaid! Mermaid! Mermaid!” He did a little dance, flapping his arms and twirling excitedly in the doorway.

“Move, kid,” Din grit out, muscles shaking. Luke waved from his arms.

Grogu got out of the way and Din made it all the way into the bathroom before he had to set Luke down again lest he drop him. Luke shivered on the cold tile. Din had to reach over him to turn on the tap. Grogu waited in the doorway, watching.

“Oh—sorry, do you need salt water?”

Luke pointed to Yes, his hands shaking. His golden-blond hair was drying now, into thick waves around his gills. Some of the blue spots on his skin were turning colorless, as well, which probably wasn’t great.

“Kid, stay with him a minute, I’m gonna get salt water.” Din pulled the drain open and stood, shaking off the water.

More buckets. More trips back and forth to the shore. It took more than Din had thought to fill up the bathtub. Luke splashed himself every so often as he waited. Grogu had brought in the whole folder of laminated communication boards, and pulled down the laminated booklet on a hook from the bathtub, and he and Luke were engaged in a vibrant conversation that meant that Din had to watch where he stepped lest he slip.

Finally, the tub was full, and Din hauled Luke up one last time, and into the water. Luke slapped his tail excitedly, splashing water everywhere. Grogu squealed, raising his little hands up to the sky. Din was entranced by the water shining off Luke’s blue scales, the almost translucent…skin?...on the bottom fin, the rigid, darker blue spines that held it together.

An alarm shook Din out of his thoughts.

He stood. “I’ve got to make dinner and get everything set up for the night. Are you two good here?”

Luke held up a beach vocabulary board and pointed to Yes. Grogu squealed again, nodding vigorously.

“Try not to make too much of a mess,” Din said. He put two towels on the floor in front of the tub, which soaked up some of the water. He held back a sigh. Fighting mold was a constant battle, in a building so close to the ocean. Hopefully any mold-related damages wouldn’t get taken out of his paycheck, even if they were in the bathroom and therefore probably his fault.

Attending to his regular duties kept Din’s mind off the merman in his bathroom for a while. He stood outside long enough to get a sense of the weather, and reported it on the radio, then listened to the airwaves for a while to see if there were any nearby boaters that needed rescuing—an über-rare occurrence, on this island. He briefly entertained the idea of radioing in his “rescue” of Luke, but what would he say? “I found a merman”? Saying that would be a one-way ticket to a psych eval if not a hospital stay - in other words, losing this safe haven where he and his son lived. Besides, without the merman in front of him, the whole thing felt like a dream. A dream that left raw skin on his chest and arms. A dream he wouldn’t breathe a word about.

He walked around the perimeter of the lighthouse and the station house, noting down any damages that would need repair or repainting soon. Took inventory of foodstuffs—they were starting to run low, but a supply was due in a week, and they had the garden, as long as a storm didn’t take it out. Tended the garden—ripped out some kudzu that kept somehow finding its way onto this isolated island, squirted bugs off the rosemary with one of Grogu’s little water guns. Checked on the water filters, generators, and radio antenna. Luckily everything was in decent order in spite of a day of neglect.

The sun was well and truly set by the time that Din went back inside the station house and started making dinner—chicken fingers, Grogu’s favorite. After some hesitation, he threw some frozen fish sticks on the baking tray as well. Maybe Luke would eat them. Din hadn’t gone fishing in a few weeks; Grogu had had him working their way through a craft book Cara had brought them at the last supply drop, which didn’t leave a lot of time for much beyond his daily duties, time consuming as they were. If Luke wanted fresh fish, Din could go fishing tomorrow.

He stacked up three plates on his arms and brought them into the bathroom. Not a large bathroom to begin with, it was a crowded space between the adult, the kid, and the mermaid. Setting his own on the white marbled sink countertop, he handed a plate of chicken fingers and broccoli to Grogu and a plate of fish sticks to Luke.

“It’s fish,” he explained. “With breadcrumbs.” At Luke’s blank look, Din hastily explained, “Bread is, uh, it comes from grain, wheat, and so it’s kind of…like…well, it’s a carbohydrate. I dunno if you have those in…the ocean. Try it, and tell me if you can eat it, or if you need something else.” He sorted through Grogu’s communication boards scattered on the tile floor, and found one with ocean creatures, which he set on the rim of the bathtub.

Grogu turned his nose up at the broccoli with a huff.

“Come on, kid, you’ve gotta have vegetables.” Din was too tired to really argue the point tonight, but Grogu didn’t need to know that.

Luke reached one dripping hand out of the tub and pointed to the broccoli on Grogu’s plate, with an encouraging sort of Go on expression, nodding. The broccoli got a little damp at the touch of his pale finger. Din grimaced, sure that the salt water would ruin whatever little chance there was of getting the kid to eat his vegetables.

Grogu surprised him by digging in.

Din blinked.

Alright then. He’d keep slightly soggy in mind, on his list of ‘things that get Grogu to eat.’ Kids were mysterious creatures sometimes.

Din ate his own plate of chicken fingers and broccoli sitting on the closed toilet seat, watching the two of them interact. It was, of course, mostly silent, occasionally interspersed with one of Grogu’s noises like “ba!” Luke picked at his fishsticks (after scraping off the breading), Grogu picked at his chicken fingers. Their hands were pretty occupied with the boards. At this angle, he couldn’t see all that they pointed to, but he saw the fairytale board, ocean, and mythology. And home.

.

.

.

After they finished eating, Din cleared the plates, and let Grogu and Luke talk for another hour while he cleaned up and checked the weather again.

“Alright kid, bedtime.”

“Ba!” Grogu said angrily, his little face scrunched up. Din’s heart melted in spite of himself. 

“No, come on, it’s time for bed.”

Luke waved his hand for Grogu’s attention. Once he had it, he exaggeratedly stretched and yawned, then put his hands together and leaned his head against them, breathing big in, and out. If he was underwater, Din was sure that there would be enormous bubbles coming out of his mouth, adding to the effect.

Grogu giggled. Luke peeked with one eye and smiled, then went right back to it.

Din gathered up all the communication boards and knocked them up on the counter, making them into a neat stack. He grabbed Grogu’s hand.

“Come on, I’ll sing to you.”

Luke broke out of his acting and waved goodbye, flapping his hand.

“I’ll check on you before I go to bed,” Din promised over his shoulder. He left the door open a crack, so that Luke could hear them move around and know that he hadn’t been left in the house alone.

Luckily Grogu’s room had a bathroom attached to it, so he could still have a quick bath—the salt water he and Luke had been splashing in all evening didn’t count—and brush his teeth before bed. Din brushed his teeth beside Grogu, glad for once that he still kept his toothbrush on his nightstand instead of in the main bathroom, an old habit from more chaotic days.

Finally, Din got Grogu clean, dry, in pajamas, and tucked into bed with his favorite frog plushie.

Din knelt beside his bed with a groan, cursing old injuries and unstretched muscles. “Alright, kid, what do you want me to sing?”

Grogu made grabby hands for his device. Din pulled it off the charger and handed it over. Grogu navigated through the pages swiftly, before finally selecting, “Sun.”

“Alright.” Din cleared his throat, and began to sing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me hap-py, when skies are gray.”

Grogu snuggled down in his blankets, clutching his favorite Froggie close to his chest, watching Din with absolute love and trust in his eyes. It made Din’s heart clench. Stars, he loved this kid. He would move heaven and earth for him. He had, when he’d rescued him. Although really, it was Din that had been rescued that day.

He reached a hand out and caressed the soft brown hair atop Grogu’s head. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take, my sun-shine a-way.” He kissed his son’s forehead. “You all ready for sleep, big guy?”

Grogu squealed softly.

“Alright.” Din pressed his forehead to Grogu’s one last time as he took his device and set it on the bedside table, and turned out the light. “If you need anything, just yell.”

He closed the door softly, leaving just a crack to let light through.

Luke was waiting in the bathroom, arms folded on the rim of the bathtub, his head resting on top. He perked up when Din came in, but not much.

“How’s your, uh, oxygen?”

Luke gave a thumbs up.

“Tired?”

Luke nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” His muscles were certainly sore from lugging all that water and the merperson. He needed to work out more, probably. As busy as this job kept him, it didn’t maintain his physical fitness the way he used to. He’d let himself get…soft, as Grogu’s dad.

“You good for the night? Need any fresh water?”

Luke shook his head. Thankfully. Din didn’t particularly want to go out in the pitch dark. It would be hard to hold a flashlight and a full bucket at the same time.

“Can you write?” At Luke’s nod, Din took out a weather resistant notepad and pen and set them on the rim of the bathtub beside Luke’s head. “We’re expecting a supply run in a day or so. If you need anything, or want anything, I can radio shore and have it delivered then.”

The merman perked up. Thank you!!! he wrote, with three exclamation marks. Din huffed a laugh.

Luke wrote, head bowed, for a while. Din watched his golden hair, long dried except around his…gills, bounce softly, reflecting the overhead light. It was mesmerizing, like watching light bounce off of water.

When Luke held up the notepad again, Din had to shake himself a little to refocus.

Salmon

Oysters

Something soft to lay on the side

Something I can help you with, as payment for taking me in

Din blinked. “I don’t need you to help me with anything.”

Luke’s gaze was pleading. No: Begging.

Din shook his head. “Really. Most of my job you can’t help me with anyway; unless you can repaint the lighthouse or pull weeds.”

Luke frowned, his lip stuck out. Din couldn’t help having a little thrill at the sight. It was adorable.

“Really! I guess I could…” He really thought about it. He supposed…that the counter could use a little basket for his keys. One of Grogu’s favorites from the craft book was basket-weaving. He could show Luke how to do it, and thus keep them both occupied, and Luke could feel useful. “Do you know how to weave baskets?”

Luke nodded eagerly.

“I’ll collect some materials for you from the wildflower garden tomorrow. Grogu can help.” Din broke off with a yawn. “I’ll tell our supplier to get the rest of it. Sleep well.”

Luke pointed at Din and mimed sleeping, with his head on his hands, then nodded as if to say You too.

Din smiled and turned to go. He paused in the doorway with his hand on the light switch.

“On or off?”

Luke tilted his head, brow furrowed. To demonstrate, Din flicked the lights off, then back on. Then again, saying out loud which was which.

“Thumbs up, on. Thumbs down, off.” He showed how to do it as he spoke. Luke gave a thumbs down. “Lights off it is,” he said, turning them off. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

He left the door cracked open again and made his way up the stairs, stifling a yawn.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the bathroom was empty in the morning. Weirder things had happened.

Although, if he was honest with himself—no, weirder things hadn’t happened. Sure, he’d had some odd jobs in his old life, but none of it had involved the supernatural. No, it was all kingpins and businessmen and whistleblowers, hackers, grifters, thieves, and the occasional unopened suitcase. Once, on his last job, a child. Never a merman.

Well, this made two that he’d kept instead of killed. Two that he’d saved.

He’d definitely gone soft.

But he found…he didn't mind it.

[burnwater13]

Boba Fett standing at the dinning table in the Palace on Tatooine. Fennec Shand is also present and the Gamorrean guards in the background. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 4, The Gathering Storm. Calendar from DateWorks.

Grogu loved the big table in the Daimyo’s palace. It was a great place for doing his sketches, chatting with friends, and, of course, eating. So much eating. Between them, Fennec Shand and Daimyo Fett seemed to think that every meal had to feed a dozen or more people. Grogu appreciated that most of the time. But at least one time it was too much. Way too much. Far too much. An almost horrifyingly amount of too much. It had actually been terrifying. 

The day had begun like any day on Tatooine when he and the Mandalorian were visiting the Daimyo. They discussed Mandalorian politics (rank amateurs), smash ball (rebuilding, always rebuilding), and the state of the New Republic (‘they are lead by children’). Fennec would pop in for a couple of split seconds to report on all the problems she had solved since the prior evening (Pykes turned away again, spice shipment disrupted and repurposed, bounty hunter after {insert name here} escorted out of Mos Espa and off Tatooine, etc.) as usual. 

Then the droid chef, or was it a mech chef? Grogu didn’t know and on that day he hadn’t even thought to ask. In any case, the chef, who was not a living being, started sending food up to the meeting room. Grogu had been happy to see it. Listening to the others talk business always made him hungry simply because he wanted to do something productive. 

First the chef’s helpers brought up typical breakfast fare. Caf, juice, iced water, hot tea, cold tea, moof milk, bantha milk (huh?), sweeteners, carafes, mugs, bottles, cups, glasses, and a wide variety of other containers. The problem was they didn’t bring up the normal amount of the stuff. It was like they were cleaning out the kitchen cabinets and they thought that this was the best way to handle it. 

Daimyo Fett and Din Djarin didn’t even seem to notice. They were too busy making their morning caf ‘just so’ and since Grogu was waiting for the bone broth to appear he was just observing the scene. Fennec had already left the room. The protocol droid just began to move things around as the Daimyo reached for his favorite sweetener and Grogu watched as the things that had been brought into the room were rearranged in kind of an outline of the whole space. He supposed it made sense. If you wanted more of a thing you could just point at the wall it was lined up next to and the protocol droid would fetch it for you. 

When the next wave of food entered the room it was made up of all the baked things that the kitchen could produce. The Daimyo’s favorite puff pastry with the little bit of quant berry jelly in the center. The heavy Mandalorian rolls that Fennec maintained were the inspiration for smash ball. Then all manner of cakes, cereals, pies, custards, crisps. Still no bone broth, but Grogu was a big fan of crisps and helped himself to no less than fifteen different varieties as they were brought to the table and then, like the drinks before them, redistributed around the room. 

Grogu tried to flag down the protocol droid to request some bone broth, but that was hopeless. The layer of baked goods around the room’s perimeter was twice as wide as the layer of beverages. It was a good thing that droid had long legs and small foot cups. It made it much easier for it to step over the emerging barricade. 

While that was happening, both Din Djarin and the Daimyo were simply ripping fire stacks into small pieces and eating them slowly as they savored the burning hot Mandalorian spice they were caked with. Grogu liked fire stacks as well, but he usually knocked a lot of the hot spice off of them before he ate them. Frog didn’t take the same after eating a fire stack that was just loaded with the stuff. 

After the baked goods, the fried food, boiled food, rotisseried food, the helpers finally served the fresh food. Grogu was happy about that. Even though the majority of ‘fresh’ food was in the form of vegetables, you could still find melons, berries, large and small aquatic critters, like gorgs and scalefish,  and pretty interesting variety of other critters. 

Grogu enjoyed this part of the meal the most, right up to the moment when he heard the words that brought all eating and drinking to an abrupt halt… 

“Where do you want us to put the rathtar?” 

Both Daimyo Fett and the Mandalorian tried to jump to their feet, but they were stuck where they were. So much food had been brought into the room they couldn’t even move their chairs even slightly away from the table. Grogu had to sit on the table just to keep from being squashed by the new dishes being placed in the room and pretended, at least once, to be one of things being served by stuffing a jogan fruit into his mouth and laying very still in his first layer. It had fooled the helpers and that’s all he had aimed to do. 

Once again Grogu had a great view of what was happening as the Daimyo aimed his missile launcher at the ‘rathtar’ and those holding it, while the Mandalorian had turned on his flight pack and forced his way into the air, almost knocking the whole table over. Grogu was certain that he was watching a tragedy unfold when a clear, calm voice cut through the mayhem. 

“It’s not real. It’s a toy for the kid. You just have to suspend it and he can tear it apart with the force. There are a bunch of freeze dried froglets in there and packets of bone broth! Whatever you do don’t fire that missile. It’ll take forever to get the frog out of everything.”

Thank goodness for Fennec! Grogu turned to thank her, but she was already gone. One problem solved and already on her way to solve the next one. He hoped. 

[azertyrobaz]

Dank Farrik Drabble #51

It's been forever I've written one of those, but strangely enough it seems the announcement of a Din & Grogu movie made me realize how much I missed them, despite all the doubts still surrounding that annoncement. Hopefully we'll get some clarification soon...

In the meantime, happy new year!

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

Din felt overwhelming tiredness crash over him as he walked through the door. It was late, the cabin was dark and cold, but there was a particular smell greeting him through his helmet filter. One that should have reminded him that they hadn’t been there in weeks and that the place needed to be aired out. But that wasn’t it. It smelled like… He couldn’t quite find the word in his exhausted state. All he knew was that it wasn’t such a bad smell.

With a small shake, he forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. He needed to start the generator, even if the only thing he wanted to do at the moment was to lie down and sleep. Preferably in his own bed, although after the past few nights, any vaguely horizontal piece of furniture would do. Even the carpet at his feet looked inviting right now.

But rest would have to wait.

“Let’s put the food away first, yeah?” he sighed, setting Grogu down. At least they had food, thanks to Greef. The man had kindly provided them with enough leftovers to last for a couple of days when he’d greeted them earlier. Din had to remember to thank him again when he had the chance. That had been very nice of him. That and the bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d gifted him which he always seemed to have at his disposal now that he was – what was it?

Din sighed again. He couldn’t remember. Something grand. Still, that didn’t mean the man had forgotten where he was coming from. Or his friends. He’d wondered at the time if the fur hat he’d gotten him as a present on Taskeed had been too much – Grogu had chosen it – but now he no longer regretted the slightly ridiculous and costly gift. First and foremost, because it was currently unreasonably cold in Nevarro. But really, seeing the smile on his face had been nice. Pleasing, even. And Grogu’s burst of joy when Greef had thanked him, congratulating him on a perfect choice even better.

As he was slowly making his way to their small kitchen, the lights suddenly came on, and their few appliances emitted approving beeps.

“Thanks, kid,” he mumbled in astonishment.

“Ah!” the boy replied from the other side of the cabin. Din was so tired he hadn’t even noticed his short legs had taken him all the way there and that he’d remembered which button to push on the console. It shouldn’t have surprised him. His apprentice had amazing eidetic memory, and he smiled to himself with pride.

“Did you remember to start the back-up generator and the hot water boiler as well?”

Grogu nodded and jumped on the kitchen counter.

“You’re really getting good at this,” he praised, and the small child hummed in contentment, already helping him check what kind of food Greef had saved up for them.

“Looks like we’ll be able to celebrate in style,” Din remarked, spying several containers full of cakes and pies. Also soup, flatbread and dips.

“Yaya!”

“What do you say we heat up a bit of everything and wait for our bedrooms to warm up watching something on the holoprojector?”

Grogu repeated that same word again: “yaya” was the highest level of happiness in his current vocabulary.

It always took a while for the heater to kick in in the small rooms at the back of the cabin, same as for the hot water boiler, and he craved both a warm shower and his bed, but he knew his young apprentice would want food first. Waiting things out on the small sofa under a blanket while watching whatever was on and eating treats was the next best thing.

Tonight – technically in a half an hour – was New Year, which would kick off Fete Week, and a well-deserved five day break here in Nevarro following weeks of intense work for the New Republic. Din no longer celebrated Life Day, and seeing that particular shade of red worn by revelers still filled him with pain, but he had no such qualms about Fete Week.

“Should we check if they’re showing the fireworks on Coruscant? I bet they’re better than the ones on Chandrila,” he suggested, switching the holoscreen on as Grogu settled next to him under the blanket.

“Hmm,” he nodded.

“Dank farrik, I think the remote is still in the kitchen,” Din grumbled, but Grogu raised his tiny arm before he had managed to drag himself from their small nest. The remote flew in their direction and the boy caught it safely.

“Good job,” Din praised. “You find the channel, then.”

He chuckled while his son complained, but this gave him the opportunity to finally remove his helmet and a few pieces of his armor, which eventually earned him a small smile. Grogu had taken that gesture for what it was – they were finally home. And not having to rely on his filter told Din the same thing. That was what this smell meant. The one that had puzzled him so when they arrived earlier.

“Welcome home, kiddo. And happy new year.”

[edgessunflower]

any Luke x reader thoughts to share?

OMG MANY DUDE

Luke always gets up and makes breakfast to surprise reader

Luke and reader give each other massage each other whenever they are sore

Reader gives Luke blue milk as a special with sweets

Reader and Luke rub each other's noses whenever they can't kiss each other

Whenever Luke and Reader are Intimate they always hold each other tightly and gently

Reader will cut Luke's hair if it gets too long and shaggy cracking jokes with R2 while cutting it

Reader will wear Luke's clothes to sleep,when he's on missions,and just around the house always making him smile sweetly

Luke and reader shower together majority of the time liking how domestic and lovingly intimate it is as much as making love to each other

Reader met Luke after the events of empire strikes back and got married inbetween the events of the Mandolrian

Reader immediately agrees to help care for grogu when they hears Luke talk about him and sees the green child learning how to jump

Reader becomes good friends with Han and Leia helping take care and looking after Ben whenever they go missions or senator meetings

Reader and Luke talk about having children knowing the other will be an amazing parent but deciding to wait for the right time

Reader will let Luke lay in their lap after patching him up running their hands through his hair until he falls asleep

Luke will let the reader just hold him whenever they're anxious or nervous

When reader is sick Luke is right there ready at their command always making wonderful soup and always ready to give cuddles never leaving their side

When Luke is sick reader is prepared with meds,homemade soup,hot and cold water bottles,kisses and cuddles on stand by only going out of the room when he was dead asleep depending on how sick he was

[heartfucksmouth]

guys I did it

I survived a full day of being a parent WITHOUT A NAP. Aidan slept through the night in bed with me and myles, he woke up at 5am and it's 845pm and I survived the day, I didn't even lose my temper or have a meltdown or sensory overload (it is like 30 degrees out and I'm still sweaty all the time why) and Myles didn't get out of work til 11 (he's working 1am-11a ugh peak season for holidays).

sure, I got a little stressed and my brain was going in a hundred directions at once, but I GOT STUFF DONE. I DIDNT NEED A NAP (I mean, I did, I always ~need a nap, but I managed without one!) holy shit never thought it would happen. I told myles I feel insane bc I was so so sad last night but today I've been such goofy weirdo and laughing at everything. maybe the sleepy-delirium is good for me lmao

~let me list my accomplishments for the day please

•I got all our laundry out of the dryer (myles folded it later)

•I put in a load of Aidan's laundry

•made coffee and a peanut butter + jelly sandwich for breakfast lmao and a pitcher of formula for the day

•I chopped up apple and banana to put in the little mesh fruit feeder things and froze them for his teething pains. he's doing okay on the chamomile tea right now but I can't wait to use the camilia again cuz it's concentrated and I won't feel like I'm filling his belly up on tea water

• did dishes and washed Ade's bottles

• I packed up a lingerie set that I sold on depop, added some cute little surprise gifts, wrote a quick thank you card and dropped it at the post office while Myles hung with Aidan.

• While Myles had Aidan, I also sorted through my stuff that's in boxes from when I moved here, repacked some things, and got almost all my boxes onto the shelving unit in the basement. it makes me sad that I have so much cool stuff and can't display it or be my full self and feel at home.

•I took care of the dogs too, made puzzles for Zaiyah and made sure Bear wasn't licking his surgical incision - he is SO STRONG, he even tried to chase a rabbit today. crazy fucker, it's been like 3 days since you had half your shoulder muscle removed. gave lots of pets and sweet words bc they are the best dogs.

•I got little dude to nap while Myles worked out and we finished Squid Game The Challenge (minus the finale in December) and he slept for 3 frickin hours. I also deleted a million photos that were taking up all my phone storage.

•and finally I had Ade hang in his crib to wind down, while I took some photos for depop and packed a box to donate to savers tomorrow

Editing to add that I still managed to tell Myles I love him and get some good kisses and quick cuddles and man, I just really appreciate our relationship. we're insane for having a child after a year of being together - but... are we that insane? our relationship just keeps growing and getting better and feeling more solid. it's incredible. seeing him be a Dad makes me love him even more and I find him even more attractive. I used to think I was lucky in my last relationship (and people told us they were jealous) but no. no no. I was settling for less than i deserved back then (lessons lessons) this, is it. this is the relationship to thank the universe for blessing me with it.

and that's all in between bottles, diaper changes, soothing crying, playing, tummy time, crawling practice, lots of spit ups, dancing and making him laugh.

I ALSO TOOK THE CUTEST PHOTOS OF HIM WEARING A STAR WARS GROGU SWEATER AAAHHH

hope you get the idea even though I'm keeping half his face anonymous lol I just don't want photos of my kid floating around the internet - unless where I can control it. his grandparents are ridiculous with posting his photos and I can only hope they have private profiles (I keep meaning to ask)

also if we are mutuals and talk, you probably have seen photos of him. but if you haven't, you can surely ask :) he's the kind of cute where you wanna scream and it lights up your day lol not to brag, I'm still in awe I created such a beautiful human.

anyways I'm really fucking proud of myself right now. I won't always feel this way or have days like this, so I'm gonna yell about it while I feel good.

ps I STILL need to shower. the one thing I didn't manage to do. tomorrow is the day bc my mom is coming to watch Aidan for a few hours and im gonna shower and faceplant in my bed for a nap before doing my errand. I cannot wait to shower lol being a new mom is truly wild

also the way I'm writing this must sound truly manic/adhd brain and y'all just have to deal, this is who I am now.

[multific]

Protective

Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: During another bar fight, you save the child and nearly sacrifice your life. This leaves Din to face his feelings. 

You had been travelling with Din enough to know when things are about to go down. 

Even if he wore a helmet, you could read his body language very well.

Now, as you were in a cantina, getting information and breakfast for the kid, you saw it.

The anger in his posture as the person just said something mean about you and the kid to annoy the Mandalorian, and it worked.

Of course it did, Din would never tolerate anyone talking to you or Grogu that way. Not now, not ever. 

They can talk hours on end about him and his kind, but you? No one is allowed to talk to you that way.

You were quick to grab the baby and hide. Hide while Din handled the situation. 

You were used to it by now. You always hid somewhere while Din did what he had to do.

But this time, it was different.

This time, Din didn’t see the explosive thrown your way, but you did. Out of instinct you shielded the child.

Everything happened so fast. 

The next thing you knew, you woke up in your bed, feeling tired and terrible. Your head hurt and you were very thirsty. You heard Grogu making noises beside you as you saw a glimpse of him as he left the room. Probably to call Din. 

And surely enough the Mandalorian soon arrived to your side with a bottle of water.

“Thank you.” you said as you drank. “What happened?” you asked.

“It was my fault. I should have paid more attention. One of them had a grenade of sorts. You saved the kid, but due to the explosion, you got hurt. I tried to heal you the best I could, but I’m afraid you still have a wound on your right side.”

“How’s my baby?” you asked, not even caring about yourself. You didn’t even notice how you referred to him as your baby. But Din sure did.

Just as you asked, Grogu climbed up and laid down on your chest, it was his attempt to hug you. “Thank the Maker you are okay. Din, please don’t blame yourself. It was my instinct to save him.”

“Still, if I paid more attention, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, and you wouldn’t be hurt.”

“It’s their fault for picking a fight with you. They should just let us eat and we would have left.”

“From now on, I will pay more attention. I don’t need you to take another blow for the kid.” he said placing his hand on yours. You grabbed his gloved hand and looked at his visor, trying to sit up slightly, supporting Grogu with your other hand. You felt the pain in your side, but you didn’t flinch, trying not to worry Din too much.

“It was my choice. And I would do it again. I don’t know what I would do if he got hurt.”

“From now on, I will protect you even more.”

“Good, because I will protect the two of you better as well.” you said smiling up at Din.

He let out a long sigh, of course, this is exactly what he expected from you. He watched as you were looking at Grogu smiling to yourself.

Then you heard a hissing sound, your eyes moved to Din and you saw as he was just about to lift his helmet off, you quickly closed your eyes and moved your hand in front of them.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice not modulated.

“What are you doing? I’m not going to look, just put it back on.” you said as your hand moved around trying to find the helmet you heard he placed down. But he grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his face. 

You felt his stubble. You tried to take your hand away but he didn’t let you.

“Your creed...” you said with a soft voice, eyes still closed.

“You mean to me more than my creed ever did or will. Please tell me my feelings are not wrong, please tell me you feel the same.” hearing him talk like that, you tightened your grip on Grogu before placing him in your lap, moving your other hand to the other side of his face. Pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you.” you said as you pulled back. “But I don’t want you to break your creed.”

You heard Grogu making happy baby noises as he watched you.

Din smiled, his heart swelling with love as he leaned in one more time to put another sweet kiss to your lips. After the kiss he put his forehead against yours, watching your closed eyes.

You were too good to be true.

A woman who takes care of his son, sacrifices herself to save him, and now, refusing to look at his face, because she respects his creed.

Din moved to place his helmet on again. 

One you heard the hissing noise, you slowly opened your eyes. Smiling from ear to ear.

“One day.” you said.

“One day.” he repeated. 

Taglist: imreadinggoaway fleursirvart  v-2bucky ehsebastian  crunch-time-sports pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd thisismysecrethappyplace sincerelyfan theoneanna aestheticsandmarvel rororo06 castellandiangelo avengers-r-us destynelseclipsacastellandiangelo  spilledinkindumpster celebsimagines capsiclesdoll firstangeldragonranch snoopy3000 firstangeldragonranch puknow crazzyter alwayshave-faith  soleil-dor  alex12948 scream-kiwi79

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~

[boazpriestly]

For the domestic prompt: showering together but without it being sexual. Just banter, probably Luke complaining about something and Din finding it funny and lightly teasing him.

"We are never giving him slime again," Din says as he shoves his head under the hot spray of the shower head.

Luke chuckles and reaches up to run his fingers through his husband's hair in an attempt to loosen the bright green mess stuck in his curls. "Of course we'll give him slime again. It's a great coping tool," he pulls a large chunk of slime mixed with a ball of glitter away from Din's head and tosses it next to their feet with a wet slap, "we'll just wait like three years."

"Or fifty," Dins says without any real heat. He moves his head out of the water for a moment to take a breath. Luke mutters for him to come closer so he does and bows his head to make Luke's work a little easier. "What kind of glue did you even use?"

"Just normal school glue I brought home before the school year ended."

"Was it expired or something?"

"I don't think glue expires, love" Luke says with a smile, "hold still."

"They why isn't it coming out as easily as it did when we gave Grogu a bath?" Din grunts as Luke pulls off another chunk of slime and accidentally pulls his hair.

"We cleaned Grogu together, remember? The slime didn't stand a chance. But it's just me and you're wiggling about as much as our son does when he ask him to eat veggies."

Din makes a face and huffs. He starts to cross his arms over his chest, but stops in favor of resting his hands on Luke's hips and leaning forward for a quick kiss. Luke hums happily and continues working on the slime until he gets majority of it out, then grabs the shampoo bottle and pours a good amount into his hand.

When he starts lathering Din's hair, Din lets out a content sigh and dips his head down to give Luke better access.

Luke chuckles a little and kisses Din's forehead. "Feel good?"

"Always," Din says in a sleepy tone.

"Good because it's all out now and it looks like someone needs to get to bed."

Din yawns and then tips his head back under the spray to rinse out the remaining suds. When he finishes he turns off the shower and turns back to Luke who lets out a big yawn too.

"Want me to carry you?"

Luke nods and steps closer until they're chest to chest. Din presses their foreheads together for a moment, just breathing each other in until Din grabs Luke behind his thighs and lifts him up. Luke wraps his legs around Din's waist, his arms around Din's shoulders, and rests his head in the crook of Din's neck.

They should dry off first, Din thinks, but asks instead, "Are you comfortable, cyar'ika?"

Luke nods, "I'll be even more comfortable when we're in bed."

"Let's make that happen then," Din says with a kiss to Luke's forehead as he starts walking them back to their bedroom.

[thefanbasewhore]

“Are you drunk?”

Summary: [Number 50 from the prompt list: “Are you drunk?” “Not nearly enough.”] Contains season 2 spoilers. Din is having a hard time letting go of Grogu but reader is always there to help him. Din realizes just how much he needs a hug.

Warning/Content: Alcohol consumption, fluff, angst, drunk Din. Din is uncharacteristic and soft in this. Unestablished relationship but there are feelings there.

It’s been days since the child had been returned to the Jedi and Din has been gone for close to the same amount of time. While he vowed he’d be back, that he would never be able to part with you as well.. it was doubtful, every minute felt like an hour, with no communication it’s amazing you lasted this long already. It’s hard to blame the man for wanting to be alone, the first person he’s cared about in years is gone, and it weighs heavy but then again before you and Grogu all he knew was the lingering silence that came with it, so being alone wasn’t that bad.

Just the way he walked that day was different, feet move heavily not steady and silent, the helmet never goes back on, he feels restricted enough, Boba’s ship was filled with a silence that made everyone tense, no one dared speak. 

It hurts though, the Mandalorian has always been at your finger tips, so close but so far. It’s back and forth, while he would love nothing more then to admit he can’t live without you. Grogu has always been the first priority, there was never time to fully act on such feelings. There were shaky moments of meaningful touches, almost kisses but something seemed to always get in the way and now it seemed like your biggest regret. Fearing the worst that something had happened, you’d never feel those lips against your own or worse..

Your eyes never seem to leave the beskar staff as it still leans against the unused chair of the kitchen table… He wouldn’t leave it right? Like forever and leave you here without a word? 

His blaster which was thrown almost as simultaneously as he walked through the door mumbling he would be back still in the same spot. That was almost three days ago and now you felt your lip quiver, seriously doubting his return. But then again the Mandalorian has no promise to you, while he had admitted the harboring admiration he holds, it was never talked about, it’s too touchy, there’s always more important things to do. The Mandalorian didn’t do feelings, actually avoided them at all costs. 

The planet Boba had brought you to per Din’s request is peaceful, it’s beautiful and filled with deep forest and clear waters but it’s loud, parties parade the streets every night, drinking, laughing, bright lights that make it almost impossible to sleep as they move to the beat of the music. It’s the total opposite of what Din is, he’s quiet, calculating, hates big crowds but maybe it’s the change he was looking for, somewhere in all this chaos would hold the answers to all his questions. Somehow he felt safe enough here to keep you in the Inn by yourself for days, leaving more than enough credits for food and pretty much anything your heart would desire.

During the first day of his disappearance you decided to go shopping, there’s a small marketplace during the day when the town is peaceful, so lovely it’s almost impossible to believe that it turns into one giant rave at night. The beautiful satin dresses that lined with varies of shapes and lines, and bright strange colors that match the planet so well.

You’re wearing one now, it’s a little uncharacteristic of you. Not typically a fan of them mostly because they’re not very practical when it comes from hiding a baby from the empire especially with all the running and blaster fights but this one fits well. It’s dips into your chest, the tops of breast swells pressed against the tight fabric, thin straps across your collar bones reveal the smooth, sun-kissed skin (the beautiful land irritates your skin just a little but it’s a good sting), it shapes your curves in all the right ways, the dress ends mid thigh but the right leg has a small slit that just goes a little more further giving the illusion of beautiful, endless legs. Truthfully, you probably were never going to wear it but found yourself running out of clothes, everything you ever owned was destroyed along with the crest. 

The ending of the dress is nice though, just enough fabric for your fingers to reach and fiddle nervously while you try and read the pages of the book in front of you but you just can’t seem to concentrate, looking from words to the door with hopes today will be the day he finally makes his return. The chair is uncomfortable, unforgiving as it digs into the center of your back but it gives the perfect sight of the door, you can’t find it in your heart to move.. just in case. 

It seems as if the Maker himself has heard you as the clicking of the door lock makes you stiffen, fingers tightening around the binding of the book as you hear pounds inside your ears. The Mandalorian stumbles through the door way, movements slow and shaky as his fingers yank the helmet from his head to release his untamed, greasy hair, eye blotched with dark circles clearly exhausted but it’s the lost look as he looks at the floor confused as he really, really concentrates on walking straight, one foot in front of the other flat hands reach out to steady himself but still manages to still trip but then there’s a giggle, a small, joyful sound that makes your jaw almost drop. Never in all the months spend in the closed, tight quarters have you heard that sound.

“Are you drunk?” The words leave your lips immediately, shock written all over your features. While you never heard a giggle, there were moments close to it but never, ever did you think the Mandalorian would drink… It’s normal for anyone else but him. The small divests that form at the end of his smile, sinking in his cheeks makes it hard to breath, so handsome and he doesn’t even know it.

“Not nearly enough.” The dimpled smile points towards the floor trying to concentrate on his next step as you can’t help but think how he managed to come back to you like this. He’s distracted, hasn’t even had a few extra moments to steal a glance in your direction but when he does he almost doesn’t notice at first, looking back down but his head almost snaps back at you, eyes soften almost immediately.

He stands only a few feet away now, not hiding the way eyes shift from the softness of your thighs, up the fabric that just fits so nicely against unrevealed skin as the skirt of the dress hikes higher and higher up soft skin until it reaches the perkiness of breasts. The imagine alone is now going to be forever stained to his brain, mouth drying as you blush under his lingering gaze. “Mesh'la.”

Even through his own drunk haze he can see the confusion against the soft curve of your face as fingers reach out to your flexed knee, limp against the chair as fingers grasp it. His fingers tingle with the feeling of the smooth skin up until they reach to cup the outside of your thigh right where the dress ends, fiddling the silk of the fabric with gentle tugs.  The messy curls are now inches from your face, swollen lips from being wrapped around the rim of an open bottle for days, you try to hide the way the close proximity makes your nose wrinkle from smell of booze. Eyes lower as you mutter, “Are you alright Din?”

He chooses to ignore the words only now sinking to his knees in front of you, using his body weight to spread legs for he can fit inside them, rest his head against your lap, unsure eyes meet your own, nerves coat his throat. Lips move under your knee, a small kiss that makes your chest stop momentarily breathing, he’s never done that before.. kiss you. “It means beautiful.. I love this dress, you look pretty.”

It catches you off guard, freezes any movements except rubbing his chin against the fat of your inner thigh. It’s not sexual, anything but he’s looking for comfort,  seeking it in the warmth of your skin that molds so perfectly against his own. “Pretty girl, you always look so, so  pretty.”

The words send your skin into an absolute fit of heat but you don’t get much time to think about it before he’s turning from you, still between the warmth of your legs but now his back touches the chair as fingers nimbly pull at the chest plate of beskar letting it fall to the ground with a clatter but he doesn’t seem to care to much as he’s pulling at the laces of his boots but failing with an audible groan of annoyance. “Do you need help Din?”

“Yes pretty girl.” The nickname sticks, makes it almost impossible to meet his eyes due to the shyness that hazes over you. Standing up to move sends him back into the chair with small thump but grumbles as he sits up to watch you sit in front of him, pulling the string of the laces loosely. Skin feels hot under his gaze, never leaving the soft curve of your nose, frustration that wrinkles your forehead, the corner of his lips turning expanding across his cheeks at how cute you are?

Even though It’s been almost a week since he’s broke the creed and a long ride to take in the hard brown eyes, the cute bump on the bridge of his nose that slightly wrinkles when he smiles, like the one that touches his cheeks now. “You need to sober up Din.” 

“Mmmmmm.” He presses a finger against his temple like his brain is working extra hard to think as a goofy grin meets your gaze. “No.”

You can’t help but feel the small grin tug at your lips, eyes peering up to meet his. It hangs in the air, the lingering unspoken situation that has your own chest feeling heavy, the only reason he’s so intoxicated. Yours is heavy but his feels absolutely crushing, makes it hard to breath, to feel anything but deep numbing pain that makes his lips quiver, eyes welt with tears. Emotions were..difficult for Din, almost every day was a fighting battle to keep them at fingertips length but the quiet moments in between soft glances from you throughout the whole ride to this planet filled the gaps, snapping something inside him, suddenly he felt everything.

The loss of his son had hit him like a ton of bricks but only opened how he felt for you, it all hit him so suddenly he could barely breath, think straight, he had to get away to clear his head but his heart just hurt too much. 

“You know you can talk to me? I’m always here for you.” The words stop him for a second as he takes in the sights of you, pulling at his boots to free his aching feet. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to remember the pain the alcohol numbs, he just wanted you. Despite how much his finger twitch to touch your cheeks, pull you close against his body he’s confused, frustrated maybe? 

It makes him embarrassed, cheeks tingle pink at the thought of touching you but his hands were stained red it would taint your innocence to press them to the soft skin of your collarbones, run them over the smooth bony prominence, touch your cheeks no matter how much he wanted to. 

Sighing you lean forward, closer to his face at his silence. The internal fight is not hidden from his features, his brows creasing with thought, lip tucking into his bottom lip while unsure eyes meet his trembling hands. It’s instant, not giving yourself a second to think about it as you lean over, warmth spreads throughout his whole body as you sit on his lap, arms wrapping around his trunk until they lace together against his back, forehead resting against his neck with a sigh. “I’m here Din.”

With those three words he feels his eyes sting, chest moving faster and faster as nerves pinch his face but there’s a sudden warmth that fills his chest, makes his heart thump extra loud against ears. The crushing feeling temporarily lifted as finds himself leaning closer and closer to you until his cheek presses against your hair. Long arms closing any distance between the pair, trapping you between strong arms. It’s a soft cry one that makes you want look up to tell him everything is going to be okay but decide it’s probably best to press a small kiss against the thick tunic, right over his heart. Din Djarin has never hugged another person since he was a child but with you, all his problems seems to disappear, your smell calming nerves, your hair against his face reminding him that you’ve always been here, will never leave no matter how hard he tries to push you away. Din never realized how much he missed hugs until now. 

Soft tears drip off pink cheeks, forming in the small dips of where your clavicle and shoulder meet, the chest underneath you stutters and heaves but you can’t miss the words as they move so freely past his lips. “I haven’t hugged someone since I was a child, I’m glad it’s you pretty girl. Thank you..”

Tag list: (on my masterlist as pinned post if you would like to join) @victias​@altarsw, @coonflix​ @mudhornchronicles​ @buckysalefty​ @capsheadquarters @godohammers​ @ilikemymendarkandfictional​ @rogertaylorsfalsetogivesmehives @maileecabudol​ @fangirlmendes @mermaidbrina​ @nikkixostan​ @moonlightnumbsthepainifeel

[kryptaos]

Olympus Apartments sneak peek!

FYI it is not the beginning of the story itself. You can meet the narrator Flash here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/kryptaos/689878021098946560?source=share

I sighed as Zeus’s storm raged, trying to mentally block it out. Normally I found the sound of thunderstorms relaxing but not when it was past midnight and I was hoping to get some sleep. I figured that I probably would not be falling asleep anytime soon given the storm and the fact that I had thought it was a good idea to drink an entire bottle of Dr Pepper only a few hours before going to bed. It was a hot night and I was starting to get kind of thirsty again so I decided to go get myself a glass of water.

I grabbed my Grogu plush, turned on my phone’s flashlight and made my way towards the kitchen, shining the light in front of me. Once I reached the kitchen I opened one of the cabinets next to the sink to look for a cup. But instead of the clear drinking glasses I was expecting I was greeted by rows of ornate golden goblets. I picked one up, turned on the faucet and put the goblet underneath the stream of water, filling it up. As I turned the water off I noticed Persephone standing nearby, a frightened look on her face. “Yo, what’s going on, dude?” I asked. “Are you here to get water too?” She nodded. I handed her the goblet I had just filled. “Here, you can have this one. Don’t worry, I didn’t drink out of it.” I picked up another goblet and started filling it up as another crash of thunder filled the air. Persephone’s eyes went wide with fear. “Are you OK?” I asked. 

Persephone shook her head. “I can’t sleep.”

“Storm keeping you awake?” I asked. Persephone nodded. “I feel you, dude. I can’t sleep either since I had way too much Dr Pepper earlier, that stuff’s so good but it’s loaded with caffeine.” I took a few sips of water. “Wanna just hang out for a bit in the living room? I could use some company.” 

“S-sure,” Persephone said hesitantly. I headed into the living room, Persephone following me. I flopped down on a couch and turned off the flashlight on my phone, putting it and the goblet of water on the coffee table. Persephone sat down on another couch.

“So does your dad create storms often?” I asked. “I’m really hoping this is not a frequent occurrence since I’d like to be able to actually sleep at night while I’m here.”

“Only when he’s really angry,” Persephone said. “It doesn’t happen very often though.”

“That’s a relief,” I said. “Usually when I’m really angry I either just hide in my room and blast heavy metal music or I practice my drums.”

“You play the drums?” Persephone asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been playing since I was your age,” I said. “I’ve been wanting to start a rock band for a few years now but I haven’t found anyone to play with.”

“My brother Apollo can play any instrument he picks up since he’s the god of music,” Persephone said. “Maybe he’d be willing to join your band.”

“I talked to him earlier and he seems like a really cool dude. I should ask him if he wants to jam,” I said. “Everyone here seems pretty cool. Although Aphrodite and Hera seem kind of distant.”

“They’re nice once you get to know them,” Persephone said.

“That’s good,” I said. “I didn’t really talk to Aphrodite much when I met her today since she was getting herself ready for some Instagram photoshoot.”

“She’s always talking about selfies and expensive makeup and designer clothes,” Persephone said. “I don’t understand any of that stuff, I just think it’s kind of silly.”

“I don’t understand it either, the whole beauty and fashion scene makes absolutely zero sense to me,” I said. “I’d rather spend my money on Star Wars toys.”

“I’ve never seen Star Wars,” Persephone said.

“Whoa, wait, are you serious?” I said, shocked. Persephone nodded. I knew at once that I needed to show her the movies. “Dude, Star Wars is, like, the coolest film franchise ever. I’ll tell you what, tomorrow I’ll show you the original trilogy. It will blow your mind. Are you down for that?”

“S-sure,” Persephone said.

“Gnarly,” I said as another crash of thunder filled the air. Persephone trembled with fright. “You alright, homie?”

“The thunder’s scary,” Persephone said quietly, her voice quivering.

I thought for a minute, trying to figure out what would help a scared little kid during a thunderstorm. “You want me to put on some relaxing music?” I asked. Persephone nodded, trembling. I picked up my phone and opened Spotify, searching for my favorite psychedelic rock playlist. Once I found the playlist I started playing it on shuffle mode, turning the volume loud enough for Persephone and I to hear but not loud enough for it to potentially bother the other gods. “Whenever I’m stressed out or can’t sleep I listen to psychedelic rock, it helps a lot. Tame Impala in particular helps me sleep.”

“I-I’m s-scared…” Persephone whimpered. Her breathing was shaky and she seemed close to tears.

“Hey, it’s OK, little dude,” I said, reaching over and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen. Just chill, breathe and try to focus on the music.” The song “Dirt” by The Stooges was currently playing. Compared to the other louder and more raw songs by The Stooges that I liked, “Dirt” had a calming bassline and a slow, relaxing tempo. I hoped Persephone would find it as soothing as I did.

After a few minutes Persephone’s breathing seemed to be stabilizing and she wasn’t trembling as much. “Feeling better?” I asked. Persephone nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad my tunes are helping you as much as they help me.” The song switched from “Dirt” to Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion.” I turned the volume up a little bit.

“Do you like any other kinds of music besides rock?” Persephone asked.

“Hard rock is my absolute favorite but I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to music,” I said. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Most of the music Mama lets me listen to is very slow and soft,” Persephone said. “She says it’s good music to listen to while out working in the fields. You probably wouldn’t like it all that much if you like loud rock music.”

“Probably not,” I said. “So what do you do for fun?”

“I like creating plants and flowers,” Persephone said. “Mama says that in a few years I’ll fully grow into my plant powers.”

“Poison Ivy’s powers are pretty cool, it’s neat that you have hers,” I said.

“Who’s Poison Ivy?” Persephone asked.

“She’s one of Batman’s enemies,” I explained. “She can control plants and she really cares about the Earth and is trying to save it but at the same time she’s evil. Oh, and she’s bright green too.”

“I don’t know much about Batman,” Persephone said. “Or superheroes in general, really.”

“Oh man…” I muttered. “Oh man. Dude, once I introduce you to all my favorite superheroes your life is never going to be the same. Heck, there’s so much great pop culture I need to show you.” I really hoped Demeter would not mind my efforts to educate her daughter on everything I considered awesome. I knew that Persephone was probably too little for some of my favorite media but I was determined to show her the stuff I thought a kid her age could handle. Borderlands? Too much mayhem. Mortal Kombat? Too brutal. Alien and Predator? Too scary. Deadpool? No way, Demeter would destroy me. But the Avengers? Guardians of the Galaxy? Justice League? Power Rangers? Star Wars? Transformers? Spaceballs? I hoped that she’d get a kick out of those. “Your brain is going to explode from awesomeness once I show you all the movies, TV, video games and music I want to show you.”

“I like the music you’re playing right now,” Persephone said. “I haven't listened to a lot of rock before since Mama never really lets me listen to it.”

“I’m glad you’re digging my tunes, little dude,” I said, grinning. I held out my fist. “C’mon, fist bump.” Persephone bumped my fist.

“By the way, why does everyone call you Flash?” Persephone asked.

“I have this hoodie with the logo for the superhero The Flash on it that I wore pretty much every day during high school. Everyone started calling me Flash because of it and the nickname stuck,” I explained. I picked up my goblet and drank the rest of my water.

“Sometimes Mama calls me Kore,” Persephone said. “Or Little Flower.”

“Speaking of flowers and plants, what exactly can you do with them?” I asked. “I thought what you did earlier when you made them grow out of thin air was pretty rad. Can you bring dead ones back to life?”

“I can bring small plants back but it takes a lot of focus,” Persephone said. “But Mama says that once I fully grow into my powers I’ll be able to bring back any plant no matter how big it is.”

“That’s gnarly,” I said. “I absolutely suck at taking care of plants, a few years ago I got a free succulent at a street fair and it died within a few weeks.”

“Did you water it and give it enough sunlight?” Persephone asked.

“I did not, I left it in my bedroom which did not get a whole lot of sunlight,” I said. “I didn’t water it as much as I probably should have since I assumed that succulents didn’t need to be watered often.”

“You probably should have kept it outdoors or at least somewhere that got a lot of sun,” Persephone said. “And you should have watered it about once a week.”

“Yeah, that probably would have been a smart idea,” I said. “By the way, would you be willing to give me a tour of your mom’s garden tomorrow? I only got a glimpse of it earlier today but it looks totally rad.”

“Sure! I’d love to show you everything we grow,” Persephone said happily as her eyes lit up. “There’re so many different kinds of flowers and plants and it’s absolutely huge.”

“Awesome,” I said. “I’m super stoked to see the whole thing.” I found myself getting sleepy. The caffeine from the Dr Pepper I drank earlier seemed to be wearing off much to my relief. “Are you getting tired? I feel like I’m about to crash out.”

“Mhm…” Persephone yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

“I’m probably just gonna fall asleep right here,” I said as I turned the music off on my phone so as not to drain the battery. I sprawled out on the couch, making myself comfortable. “Night, dude.”

“Goodnight, Flash,” Persephone mumbled tiredly. Within minutes both of us had fallen asleep.

[queen--kenobi]

Among Lovers: Soft Starlight

This is a snippet tied to Honor Among Criminals but can be read as a stand-alone! I wanted to write some subby Din, but this scene wouldn’t necessarily fit in the main story.

Pairings: Din Djarin x AFAB!reader

This is part of a modern AU

Warnings: NSFT! Like ,straight up smut y’all. Dom/sub dynamics, sub!Din (kinda), heavy praise kink, PiV, dirty talk, and unprotected sex. Y’all know the drill.

The door to the house opens and shuts with a soft ‘click’.

You wait to hear Grogu running full speed down the hall, ready to tell you about his day. You don’t hear anything other than the sound of Din’s footsteps. You get to your feet. You shut your office door behind you and make your way out into the kitchen. Din is in his armchair. He hasn’t opened it yet but is sitting. His shoulders are bunched up, but his head is hanging low. His elbows are on his knees, hands dangling uselessly. He turns his head ever-so-slightly when you come into the room.

“Rough day?” You make your way over to him. He makes a noise. “Where’s Grogu?”

“He’s with Cara.” He sounds so tired, not in a physical way but an emotional one. You stand in front of him.

“What do you need?” You know what he’s looking for right now. When he’s in this kind of mood and he has someone keep Grogu, he’s only looking for one thing. He doesn’t say anything. You sigh softly. “Do you need me to take care of you?”

Slowly, Din lifts his head. He nods. You cross your arms over your chest.

“I need to hear you say that, sweet boy.” You lightly scold. He pauses. You know this was the hardest part for him. “I need to know what you want.”

“I want...” He pauses. You can’t tell if he’s getting the courage up to be that vulnerable or if he’s trying to figure out exactly what he wants. “I want to be your good boy.”

“You already are.” You tease. “Go ahead to the bedroom. Strip down as much as you’re comfortable right now.”

He stands up without a word and makes his way towards the bedroom. You head into the kitchen. You grab several bottles of water and a couple of small bags of snacks. They were for Grogu’s lunch, but he wouldn’t notice them gone. You’d make sure to buy more for him before he might even think to check. You head back into your shared bedroom. The door is open. A single lamp is on, casting low light in the room. Din is standing with his back to you by the bed. He’s stripped out of his motorcycle attire and his undershirt. You notice the suit is neatly folded on the chair. You look at Din. He seems to be lost in thought.

“Do you want the lights on or off?” You set the water bottles down on the side table. He slowly turns and watches you. The question is one you ask out of habit; early on when he wasn’t comfortable enough with you for you to see his face, the lights being off meant that he wanted to take his helmet off as well.

“On.” You nod. He hesitates for a second before his hands move to the sides of his helmet. You watch him.

“Do you want me to do that for you?” He nods. You walk over to him. You place your hands on either side of the helmet. You look at him to make sure that he was okay with it. He nods again, this one a little more sure. Carefully, you remove his helmet. You can still remember with breathtaking detail the first time he let you take off his helmet. You carefully set his helmet with his suit once it’s off. He looks at you, and you smile. It’s so much easier to tell what he wants when you can see his face. Sadness is in his eyes, which makes you pause.

“Din.” You begin. He shakes his head.

“I just need to know I’m-”

“Good enough?” You supply. He nods. You put your hands on either side of his face. He visibly relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes and nuzzling your palm. “You are more than good enough, baby boy. You’re perfect.” You can feel the heat coming from his face, which makes you smile. You stroke your thumb over his cheek in a broad pattern. He lets out a sigh, and you can feel the tension already starting to leave his body. You nudge him towards the bed. He follows your direction and lays down on it.

“Do you want me to show you how perfect I think you are or do you want to show me?” You climb on the bed and straddle him, sitting most of your weight back on your heels. He looks up at you, surprisingly doe eyed even though this certainly isn’t the first time the two of you have done this. You look at  him expectantly. He clearly doesn’t need a rough hand tonight, a soft touch is what he needs.

“First one.” Din eventually speaks. You love the way his voice sounds without the modulator. You place your hand against his cheek again. He automatically leans into it, which makes you smile. You move your hand along his face. His eyes slowly flutter closed. You notice that his hands are by his sides. You chuckle. 

“You can touch tonight.” To emphasize your point, you take one of his hands with your free one and place it on your hips. His other hand follows suit. He doesn’t grab or take a hold; he simply rests them there. One of his thumbs sweeps across the exposed skin just above the top of your pants. You smile at him. You move the hand on his face down along his jaw and to his mouth. You press lightly on his lower lip, and he parts them wordlessly. 

“God. You’re so handsome.” You curl over him as you speak. You slip your thumb just past his lips. His tongue automatically runs across the tip of the digit. He freezes, clearly at war with his natural urge to duck his head down and hide. He knows better, though. Just because a gentle touch was the way to go with him more often than not didn’t mean you never used a rough hand. You slip your thumb out of his mouth.

“Thank you.” Din manages after a beat. You hum and bring your other hand up to run across his other cheek. You keep your eyes trained on his, never breaking your gaze. He watches you from under hooded eyelids. You move the hand that had just been at his lips to his hair, smoothing it back some. 

“You really are so handsome.” You lean forward until your noses are practically touching. Din’s gaze flicks to your lips. You can see him visibly restraining himself from moving up those last few inches and kissing you. You grin softly, placing both hands on either side of his face. “I am so lucky that you chose me.”

Before he can respond, you kiss him. It’s nice and slow but still passionate. One of Din’s hands hesitantly leaves your waist. He brings it up to the back of your head so he can cup the back of your head to pull you closer. You nip on his lower lip lightly, and he parts them ever so slightly. It’s unrushed, unhurried. You lean more into him, nearly draping yourself over the entirety of his body. One of your hands moves from his face to his hair. You run your fingers through it. He lets out a low groan, pressing more towards you. You tug lightly on his hair. His breath hitches.

You pull away to look at your handiwork. His lips are already swollen, kiss-bruised. His hair is messed up. He doesn’t look wrecked yet, but he’s got a pleading look in his eyes. You look at him. He nods. You take a handful of his hair and use your grip to pull his head back, exposing the column of his throat. He tries to prevent his gasp. You ‘tsk’ at him.

“You know I like hearing you.” You chide. You begin placing a series of kisses along, the exposed skin, from his jaw all the way down to his collarbone. Given that you’re pressed against his, you can feel every stuttering breath and hitch in his chest. You scrape your teeth lightly over a particular spot, and he lets out a soft moan. You lave over it with your tongue before sucking the skin into your mouth. That earns you a louder moan, and he throws his head back to give you better access. You grin against his skin. 

“Good boy.” You croon. That prompts Din to try and twist his head to the side to hide his face. Your grip in his hair stops him. “What do we say?”

“Thank you.” He gasps. Both of his hands drop down to your waist. The hem of your shirt has ridden up. One of his hands rests on the exposed skin of your lower back. You sit up so you can look at his face. You look at him for a silent moment, gauging him and what to do next. You sit upright. Din watches you from under hooded eyelids. The rise and fall of his chest is a little faster now.

“Take my shirt off.” Your tone is commanding. Both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt. He shifts, sitting up on his elbows, before he begins pulling your shirt off. You help him with it. His gaze noticeably darkens at the sight of your chest. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the lingerie or because of his signet resting in the valley between your breasts. You toss your shirt somewhere into a corner. His hands go to your waist. You think he’s using the point to anchor himself, as if he’s afraid he’ll go too far if he touches. You grin wolfishly at him. “My bra too.”

His hands skate around to your back. He must notice the trail of goosebumps his touch leaves because he very deliberately trails his fingers lightly over your back until he gets to the clasp. He looks up at you. You nod. He undoes the clasp deftly and helps you shrug it off. His eyes grow dark at the expanse of skin before him.

“Can I?” Din’s voice is soft, ready to to keep his hands to himself if you tell him to do so. It’s clear he doesn’t want to, not with the way his eyes are fixed on your breasts. 

“Go ahead.” You tell him, mirth evident in your voice. He moves his hands around and palms both of them. He keeps his touch gently and his eyes trained on your face. 

“You’re so good for me.” You sigh as he tweaks a nipple. “You do so well, listening to me. You’re so considerate too, asking for, nngghh, permission and being so aware of what I need.” You look at him. “You can use your mouth if you want.” Din surges upward. He wraps both of his arms around you to pull you close to him. He starts at your collarbone and works his way down, sucking dark marks into the soft flesh. You gasp and pull him closer.

“Take what you need.” You tell him. “You’re so good to me, so giving. You can be selfish. I’m giving you permission.” Your voice trails off into a series of moans as he runs his tongue along your nipple. You suspect years of living with a helmet on constantly has given him an oral fixation. He seems to want his mouth everywhere on you while his hands map out what his mouth isn’t touching. You can feel him hardening under you with every breath whimper and gasp that leaves your lips, so you rock down on him. His groan is muffled by your skin. 

Din pulls away for a moment, almost wild-eyed.

“Can I-” He swallows hard. You grin and place a hand on his cheek. “I want you to sit on my face. Are you okay with that?” You can’t help your soft laugh. Even when it was his turn to be selfish and for you to take care of him, he still wanted to make sure that what he wanted was okay with you. You comb your fingers through his hair.

“I told you. Whatever you want. You deserve all of that and more.” Din looks at you for a second. His eyes scan your face. You aren’t sure what exactly he’s looking for, but you know when he’s found it. He starts unbuttoning your pants, motions becoming desperate. You laugh and slide off of him just enough to get your pants and underwear off. You kick them somewhere. When you get back on him, you straddle his chest. You lean back some and palm him through his pants. He hisses, his hips bucking up into yours. 

“Tell you what.” You move back. He reaches for you, but you swat his hands away. “Pants off.” You have to move again to help him get them off. When he springs free from his pants, you’re pleased to note that he’s already hard. Din kicks his pants off all the way. You turn. Instead of facing him again, you face out towards the rest of the room. Din lets out a purely sinful noise when he catches on to what you’re thinking. He grabs you, manhandles you so you’re in the position he wants. You nearly squeak. You look down at him. You can’t see his eyes, but you get your answer soon enough. He pulls you down onto his face, anchoring you with both hands thrown around your quads. You stretch out, pressing your torso against him.

Din’s already making little pleased noises against you as he works his tongue across your folds, but he lets out a hiss of pleasure once you take him into your mouth. He doubles down. He laps at your clit. Your thighs tense at the contact. You reward him by running your tongue along the length of him. He groans open-mouthed into your pussy, and god. The sounds that man makes are addictive. He starts really working you over, dipping his tongue into you. You groan around him and return the favor, taking him a bit further into your mouth. You can feel your thighs tense around his head. When you pull back for a second and push your head to the side, you can see his thighs tensing as well. 

The room quickly starts smelling like sex. It’s more than addictive and spurs both of you on even further. Soon, the only sound is the sloppy sounds of sex. You pause when he taps your thighs three times. You pull off of him with a sinful and wet ‘pop’. You see how tense his thighs are the fact that his cock is throbbing. You grin and swing your leg off of him. Din’s face is covered with your slick. He looks wrecked. You lean forward and kiss him. He groans as the taste of both of you mixes in his mouth. He coaxes you to flip onto your back. 

Din leans over the bed to grab a condom from the nightstand. You bat his hand away playfully. He looks at you.

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course I am.” You grin at him. “We talked about this, remember?”

Din’s eyes get almost blown out with lust. He wastes no time in settling himself between your legs. You’re slightly confused as to why he’s got his head resting on your thigh until he slides a finger into you. He curls it, and you arch up towards him. You’re already wet, dripping, from his early ministrations, so it’s easy enough for him to slide two, and then three, fingers into you. He curses softly, marveling at how wet and soft you are. He stretches you out, makes sure that you’re ready to take him. You can tell he’s impatient because he doesn’t take nearly as long as he normally does. Din moves up your body. The back of his hand brushes against your core as he lines himself up. He looks at you as he slowly sinks into you.

Both of you let out a groan once he bottoms out. He presses his forehead to yours. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight and wet.”

The two of you breath in sync for several seconds. You automatically move your legs so your thighs are wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. He starts slow, letting you adjust. You grin and lightly kick him to let him know you won’t break. He shifts, adjusting both of you so he can start thrusting into your harder. Your hands go to his back.

“You’re so- fuck. You’re so good to me.” His head drops down to your collarbone. 

“Not as, nnggghh, not as good as you are to me.” You try not to dig your nails too hard into his back. “You’re far, fuck yeah right there, you’re so much better to me than I deserve.” You can feel your toes curling. Your head lolls back, one of your hands dropping to your side. Din shifts. He reaches out and takes a hold of the hand that just dropped, interlacing your fingers. You move your other hand so you can rub your clit. He growls as he feels you tightening around him.

“You deserve the world, cyar’ika.” He murmurs, his voice and breathing ragged. “You deserve so much.” The pure admiration and love in his voice is enough to send you over the edge. He follows not long after, the way you clench around him doing him in. 

The two of you lay there for a long moment. He shifts just enough to press his forehead to yours again. It feels as if the two of you are sharing the same breath.

“I love you.” He murmurs. His voice is thick with emotion, as if he wants to say more but can’t. You tilt your head enough to kiss him. “I would do anything you asked of me.”

“I know. I’d do the same for you. I love you too.”

[fanfoolishness]

Finding the Way (The Mandalorian)

(Cara Dune & Din Djarin.  After the events of The Rescue, Din Djarin could use a friend.  Cara Dune doesn’t know what it means to be a Mandalorian, but some things are universal.  Friendship, angst, alcohol, religious questioning.  ~2400 words.)

***

She found Din Djarin alone, after the Jedi left with the child.

Cara wasn’t sure exactly when he’d slipped away from the bridge; there’d been a lot happening.  Bo-Katan and Kosca had been deep in conversation about their next destination, Fennec was pinging Boba to set up a rendezvous, and she’d busied herself with gagging the unconscious Moff and stowing him away in a corner with extra restraints.  The bastard had a lot to answer for.

In all that, though, she hadn’t wanted to look at the Mandalorian without his helmet.  It had felt too private, too close, to watch his goodbye with the kid.  Once the Jedi left, it seemed he’d taken advantage of her inattention.  

Without a ship, though, he hadn’t gone far.  He’d only been missing for fifteen minutes or so when she realized and started searching for him on the security console.  She gave a hasty request for the others to watch the Moff -- not as if Bo-Katan would let him try anything else -- and took the lift downstairs.  

She found him the next floor down from the bridge, inside the officers’ mess.  The half-opened door was scored with blaster fire; likely Din’s work when the doors wouldn’t open for him.  She peered in through the half-opened door, glancing away when she saw his mussed brown hair, a glimpse of his face.  She still wasn’t used to it, and still wasn’t sure if it was okay for her to see him like this.

“It’s me,” she called, rapping on the door with her knuckles.  Surprising a Mandalorian was a surefire way to an early grave.  “Can I come in?”

His voice sounded strange without the mechanical filter.  Human.  Almost small.  “Do what you want.”

That was encouraging, at least.  He wasn’t kicking her out entirely.  

She entered the room, rolling her eyes at Imperial waste.  Real wood paneling lined the walls, and instead of the spartan standard issue bench tables in the rank-and-file’s mess, individual tables with sleek surfaces and cushioned chairs dotted the room.  Gideon himself must have taken meals here.  

Din sat at the bar at the back of the room.  There was a half-drunk cup of liquor beside him, his helmet resting next to it, its visor turned away from him. 

“So… you okay?” Cara hazarded, taking the seat beside him.  It looked like he’d made a decent dent in a slim bottle of aged Corellian whiskey. Only the best for the officers, of course.  This stuff went for big credits in the Core, enough so that she’d never tasted it herself.

“I’m fine.”  He didn’t look at her.  He just stared straight ahead at the wall, brown eyes fixed on nothing in particular.  From the corner of her eye she could see the color of his face seemed off, red and blotchy in places.  Hell.  He’d been crying.

Her stomach twisted.  “Look… I’m sorry about the kid.  I know that had to be hard.”

He was silent for a moment.  When he spoke again, his voice was strained.  “Grogu.”

“Sorry?”

“I found another Jedi a few weeks back.  She said she couldn’t train him, but she was able to talk to him, mind to mind.  He told her about his life before I found him.  His name is Grogu.”

“Huh.  Grogu.” She chuckled.  “It’s cute.  Suits him.”

A slight dip of his head, angled toward her.  He was very still.  She could see a muscle in his cheek twitching. 

Blast.  She was no good at this crap.  She fished around for something to say, something that could help.  Maybe she could get him to talk; listening might be easier.  “You’re sure you’re fine?  Because you don’t look fine.” 

“I needed to help him find a Jedi,” Din said hoarsely.  “I did what I was tasked to do.  This is the W—“

But he cut himself off, turning his face away from her. His whole head moved to the side to shift his gaze, remnants of long years wearing a helmet.  Every martial style had its tells, and she could see the differences between the ways Bo-Katan and Koska moved, and how the man beside her moved and battled.  He was different from them, in fundamental ways, but she wasn’t sure why they could remove their helmets and he couldn’t.  Until he did.

Cara shook her head.  Think of something helpful.  You can do this.  “He’s gonna be okay, you know,” she said suddenly.  “I know who that was.  We droppers heard rumors during the war that a powerful Jedi took out the Emperor on Endor.  It has to be him.  Skywalker.  What other Jedi would fly in here in an X-Wing?”

“Good,” said Din.  He still wouldn’t look at her.  “So the Imps will never take him again.”

“I’d like to see them try.  I never knew a Jedi could do that,” said Cara.  She’d heard stories, of course, but stories were one thing.  Proof was another.  “I’m just glad he was on our side.”

Din turned back to facing forward, jaw tensed.  He nodded, a tight gesture that somehow seemed too broad for him.  Without the helmet, it was disconcerting to see emotions popping up on his face, vanishing as quickly as they came -- sorrow, pain, shame.  It almost would have been funny if it wasn’t so hard to look at.  Live your life in a helmet, guess you never have to learn to control your face.

She took a guess at the emotion that flicked past, marked in the set of his eyes, the downturned lines at his mouth.  “I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

“Maybe,” he said, and his gloved hands clenched on the table surface.  He reached out and took a drink.

“I didn’t know you drank,” she said.

“I don’t.”  His throat worked as he swallowed and drained the glass.

Oh.  “Right.”  

She reached out and took the bottle from him, pulling back a long slug on it.  It burned, clean and fierce, but it was strong stuff.  No wonder it sold for the price it did; she was surprised he wasn’t slurring already.  “Be careful with this stuff, then.  It’s not for lightweights.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then lapsed again into quiet.

Like talking to a durasteel wall, she thought.  “Look, I wanted to make sure you were okay.  That was rough up there.  I just -- if you want to talk about it, or something, I can listen.”  She leaned back in her chair, taking another drink of whiskey.  It seared.  “That’s all I’m trying to say.”

He turned toward her, canting his whole head instead of just moving his eyes.  There it was again, the tell that he’d lived in his helmet for a long, long time.  He took a deep breath, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with her.

“I know he has to do this.  I can’t teach him, not the way he needs.  I have -- I had to let him go,” he said.  The words sounded well-practiced, like he’d said them many times before.  

“I know,” she said.  “I’m so sorry.”  She tried a small smile, though her eyes watered suddenly.  “He -- Grogu -- he was crazy about you, you know?”

A slight shrug, shoulders scarcely moving.

“Well, he was.  Looked up to you like anything.  You guys have a bond.” 

“I did what I could for him,” said Din, closing his eyes.  “I hope it’s enough.”

“It is,” said Cara fiercely.  “You loved him, man.  No kid could ask for more than that.”

He was silent, and when he opened his eyes again, she could see that they were damp.

She swallowed, took another drink, unsure of what to say.  The quiet filled the space around them, a weighty, crushing thing.

Eventually she forced herself to speak again, casting around for something to say.  “So….  They’re making arrangements upstairs.  We’ll be rendezvousing with Fett soon, but you’re always welcome on Nevarro, too. Greef was heartbroken when I told him the Imps had the kid again, so I know he’d want to help you now.  Have you thought about where you want to go?”

“I don’t know.”  He turned away again, shoulders squaring beneath his armor.

“Well, if you don’t want to stay planetside for a while, it sounds like those other Mandalorians want your help. Honestly, if anyone could take back Mandalore, I’d put even credits on them. And on you.  Dank farrik, you even have that sword now.”

“I don’t want it,” he bit out.

“Yeah, I heard.  But you have it.  May as well use it, right?  Why give up a tactical advantage?” asked Cara.   “Sounds like it belongs in the hands of a Mandalorian anyway.”

“All the more reason for me not to wield it,” said Din, and there was something sour, something wrong, in the way his face twisted.

She stared at him, raising her eyebrows.  “What?  Wait. Are you saying —“

“I broke the Creed.  I showed my face,” he said, his voice cracking.  “I had a choice, and this is what I chose.  I am no longer worthy of my beskar.”

Cara tried wrapping her mind around it, remembered dragging him in from the battlefield, his blood hot and slick on her hand, the panic in his voice when she tried to remove his helmet to save his life.  “You chose to show your face to your child who needed you.  You did the right thing for you both.”  It didn’t make sense to her.  “I thought your people wanted to help foundlings.  Well, you helped him!”

“It is forbidden,” he forced out.

“You’re still a Mandalorian—”

Anger, grief, pain, rapid-fire flashes in his eyes and face, every muscle tensing for battle.  “You have never sworn the Creed.  You know nothing about it!”  

She bristled, fighting the urge to say something harsh, or worse, throw a punch at him to knock the sense back into him.  Beside her he was breathing harder, chest visibly rising and falling rapidly.  She bit her lip.  

“Okay, okay, maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be a Mandalorian,” Cara admitted sharply, lifting her hands to calm him.  “But I do know what it’s like to turn away from something you spent your whole life believing.  Alderaan had no army, remember?”

He breathed a little slower.  The flush of red in his face receded.  “You never told me why you became a soldier.  I assumed, after what happened --”

Her mouth twisted.  “Close, but not exactly.  I started seeing what my people couldn’t, before it happened.  The Empire was rising and people were dying.  Diplomacy stopped working a long time ago.  When I told my family I had to fight, even if that meant killing, they turned their backs on me.”

“They were blind,” said Din.  “The Imps weren’t going to stop expanding with peaceful protest.”

“Maybe,” she said.  This was the hard part.  The part that had taken her years to understand, that she was still trying to figure out.  “I think now… we wanted the same thing.  We just saw different paths to peace.  They thought pacifism was the way.  I saw the Empire killing people, terrorizing them, and that wasn’t peace.  I had to fight for peace to even begin to exist.”  She wiped her cheek, fingertips brushing over the tattooed Tear.  “So I was offworld, trying to become a new recruit, when the Empire showed Alderaan what they thought about peaceful resistance.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave him a tight, painful smile.  “But the thing is, Mando, I’m still Alderaanian.  No one can take that away from me but me.  Not the Empire, not my family, not the royal house of Alderaan.  Even if my family didn’t understand why I did what I did, I knew I was fighting to bring peace.  That’s what makes me Alderaanian.”  No matter what.

He gazed at the beskar helmet, shining beneath the overhead lights.  Its black visor was an empty void, disconnected from its bearer.

She let out a bark of a laugh, blinking away tears.  “I don’t know, man.  It’s your life.  Your Way.  But if your Way won’t let you show your face to your own kid when he needs you, maybe some of those rules should change.  If you still feel like a Mandalorian, I think that’s what makes you one, and not what anybody else says.”

He closed his eyes, hanging his head slightly.  He shifted in his seat with a small clink, one armored arm now resting against his helmet.  “I don’t know what I am now.”

Cara took another drink from the bottle, finishing the last of the whiskey.  “We’ve got two women up there who’d kill you in a heartbeat if you said they weren’t Mandalorian, and they show their faces clear as day.”  She shrugged.  “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to them about some of this stuff.  You could put it together with the old Way and make something new, something that feels right.  But for what it’s worth, Mando… you’ll always be a Mandalorian in my eyes.”  She clapped a hand over his shoulder, the beskar cool beneath her palm.

“It’s not --”  He struggled, mouth thinning, before he let out a long breath.  “That’s very kind,” he said slowly. He turned his head to look at her at last, searching her face.  He looked strangely vulnerable like this, far more so than he had dying in the dust of Nevarro. 

She nodded, attempting to smile, her mouth not quite getting there.  “Well, it’s true.”  

His face shifted into uncertainty.  “Perhaps the Way of the Mandalore is not… the only way to be a Mandalorian.”  He looked down at his helmet and swallowed.  “I’ll speak with the others, at least.”

“It’ll take time,” Cara said softly.  “You don’t have to figure it out right away.  Just… maybe hang on to your armor for a while, that’s all.”

He was quiet.  “Thank you.  Truly.”

“Sure,” Cara said, nudging him with her shoulder and giving him a quick smile.  “Any time.  After all, what are friends for?”    She leaned over the counter, pulling down another bottle of Corellian whiskey and grabbing an empty glass.  “What do you say to a toast?”

A dry chuckle.  “Sure.  You’ll have to tell me if I’m doing it right.  I’ve never done this before.”

“I think you’ll get the idea.”  She poured them each a glass, and raised hers high until it caught the light.  “To Grogu.”

The edges of his mouth turned up, just slightly.  Just enough.  He raised his glass to clink to hers, his brown eyes bright, his voice warm.  “To Grogu.”  

The whiskey burned in her throat, clean and pure.  To finding the Way.

[fandom-blackhole]

Darling, it's not me who is trying to kill you! It's just that the buckets are too skkskskhsslsk 🥵

Paz and you playing hide and seek in the forest?

He'd go 100% soldier on a mission mode and find you in no time,

''Looks like I found my precious target'' ,

You being all smol and scaweed 🥺😫,

Then he goes apeshit, wrestling you so hard against the tree that it'd leave marks on your back,

If you were camping in the mountains, he'd pack the tiniest tent and sleeping bag possible to stay as close as it'd be possible,

Paz thinks when you are with him there is no personal space,

Omg, you on top of him, being pounded mercilessly as he'd trap you so hard with his hands around your back,

He'd also press his palm against THE BULGE and nut instantly after he felt your pussy gripping his dick,

Okay, let's stop because, dear god we 'bout to bust, aren't we?

One day you decided to surprise Paz at his work,

You sneaked to the kitchen by the back entrance and hugged him from behind,

He'd slowly turn to face you big smile plastered on his face,

Until he saw what you were wearing,

You put on this baby blue flowy dress,

''Sweetheart, you are looking like a snacc''

My lovely little cupcake, might as well eat you here and now''

He just lifted you with one hand like you weighted nothing and sat you on a counter,

He quickly got rid of your panties (he totally stole them from you because he loves your taste and smell) and was eating you out like a starved man,

Even tho he was cooking all the time, he'd always be hungry for you,

You trying to cover your mouth with your hands so his employees and dinners wouldn't hear you,

But he was fast ro grab your hands and just chuckle saying

''Sweetness, I am the ownere here, right? So let me hear these pretty noises of yours, let people know how good I make you feel''

DID I SAY WE NEED TO CHILL OUT? GUESS I CAN'T STOP MYSELF SORRY

Din would text you through the day and it's a mix between:

''Good morning, my sweet girl, Did you sleep well?'', ''Baby, remember to eat your breakfast'', ''Have you drink enough water today?'',

''Daddy, can't wait to get back home to you'', ''Babygirl, my dick is painfully hard right know, been thinkin' too much about your pretty, little pussy'',

Din is a SHY 😊 and sweet mean, he loves being silly with his class, but the daddy thing makes him wild,

Din you better wash out your mouth with a soap lol,

When you visited him and Grogu to catch up with them, he couldn't keep his cool,

Seeing you playing with Grogu and being so motherly towards the kid sparked something in Din,

When Grogu settled for his afternoon nap, Din would grab you and pin you against the wall, one hand resting on your chest the other tucking hair behind your ear, growling in this rich chocolate timber:

''Sweet girl, you have no idea what you do to daddy'',

But when you innocently sit in his lap in public, he gets all shy and blushy, hesitantly resting his hands on your thighs,

Umm dirty secret? He once stole your white bra and used it to relieve himself when you were away 🤭,

Don't wear low-cut clothing around him or he'd end up crashing into something or landing on his ass,

9/10 times you'd catch him trying to sneak a glance at your tiddies and being all embarrassed when caught,

Giving him a tiddy job but being also able to succ his tip too because he is so well-endowed, Din.exe has stopped working, nutted to death,

If there were more buckedheads I don't know if we could keep on writing these,

Boba lives off his authority and power,

You wanting to keep your relationship professional impressed him a lot,

You weren't another young, stupid girl chasing after his money,

There was going to be another charity event, he send you a beautiful Tiffany choker to pair up with your outfit,

He almost came in his suit pants, when he noticed you giving a speech at the event, wearing his present,

After you were done speaking, he came up to you and the group of other attendees you were talking with,

'' Miss, your speech was really touching and thoughtful '' you instantly feelt so proud, being praised for your hard work in front of all of these people, cheerfully smiling at him,

Before you had time to respond, he got closer to you, smirk crawling up on his face and whispered:

'' Also, this necklace suits you so nicely, princess''

You just got flustered and said to him:

'' Thank you, sir'' while bitting your lower lip,

Well next thing you knew, you were being kidnapped to the parking lot, Boba literally throwing you onto backsit of his car,

Thank God you decided to wear garters and stocking that night

I have nothing more left to say. - 🐣

This AU is just getting better and better, you are such a genius...

Hid and seek with Paz 3729201/10, best fucking idea

Paz just goes absolutely ape shit watching his cock buldge out your belly

Paz stealing your panties whenever he can 😭😭😭

Paz does not understand personal space when it comes to you

He HAS to be touching you in some way when you are around

Holding your hand, hand around you waist, arm around your shoulder, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans

When he first sat next to you in your booth at his restaurant and your thighs touched, his heart soared when you didn't pull away from him

Paz and yours first date, was really like your 12th, but Paz took you to a strawberry farm

Held the baskets as you picked the fruit, constantly telling you that you picked the best berries

After he bought a bottle of strawberry wine, which the two of you shared over a small dinner that he made

Then the next thing you knew you both were on your couch, you on his lap, having a very heated make out session

Which lead to Paz picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, where the two of you had a very passionate and intense wrestling session

Now, Din, my sweet himbo

He gets soooo flustered with PDA

You once kissed his cheek in front of some people, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting

Din constantly checking on you throughout the day 🥺🥺🥺

He always calls on his lunch break, just to talk with you and see how your day is going and talk about his class

One day when you came to check on Grogu at school, the rest of the kids convinced you to read to them during playtime

Din had to sit behind his desk for a while because just seeing you like that made him so hard

That night he wrestled with you until he passed out

Din once asked if he could keep his cock inside of you all night long

You woke up aching and leaking from how many times the two of had cum during the night

Din had moaned when he woke up and just spulled you under him for an early morning wrestling match

Now for Boba....

Boba always makes sure that you have some kind of present waiting for you in the mornings

Flowers, clothes, jewelry, a five star breakfast, himself

Boba totally gets you the prettiest tiara for his princess

Everything you own soon becomes namebrand, because only the best for his little

The first time Boba seen you wearing one of his gifts he had dragged you into the closest empty room, and left you marked and jelly legged

Boba totally gets you a custom gun for you to carry around for safety

Its inscribed with little one

Boba likes to always have your neck covered in hickies so that people know who you belong too

Boba took you to an art show once and every painting you showed interest in he bought for you

Don't mention liking any famous painters because he will get his hands on an original piece for you

Sorry its not much but these boys are driving me up the wall....

(SEND ME THOTS!!!!)

[burnwater13]

Grogu found the Mandalorian’s choices interesting, to say the least. Sometimes they walked. Sometimes he used the floatee thing. Sometimes they used the Razor Crest. Today, they used a speeder bike. 

Speeder bikes were pretty amazing. They went super fast. Well, not as fast as the Razor Crest, but come on, the Razor Crest was a starship! Speeder bikes were faster than walking. Or even being in his floatee thing. Which was great. As long as you were the pilot and not the cargo. 

Oh, Grogu stilled loved the speeder bike, but the saddle bags, or whatever they were called, weren’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the galaxy. First they were kind of boxy. Then they limited his view a lot. He liked the Mandalorian, but the view of his back got boring after awhile, especially if his cape wasn’t properly tucked away. He got ‘snapped’ by it once and wow did that sting. 

But even with those limitations, Grogu still liked going fast. He liked how things looked when they were all blurry. It was sort of like watching a painting of the concept of fast, particularly with its directionality. The only downside of fast like the speeder bike, was that he had to use the Force to keep the sand and dust and grit out of his eyes. Sure, he could have hunkered down in the bag. And not seen anything! That was not the way. 

Instead he used the Force and kept the flying debris out of his face and ears. Yup. Those ears were amazingly good at catching sound waves and tiny, flying critters that couldn’t help but get sucked into the vortex the speeder bike created. It, unlike the tiny flying critter, wasn’t the least bit aerodynamic. It was terribly inefficient. The Mandalorian said it got the job done. Yes, yes it did. But it could have gone so much faster! He thought that would appeal to Din Djarin but the Mandalorian had shrugged and said that’s why he had the Razor Crest. 

But they were using the speeder bike and that was just the way of it. Grogu decided to use his time and come up with a list of improvements based on his lived experience so the Mandalorian would have something than armor polishing to do with his time. 

First, he wanted goggles. Technically that’s not a speeder bike improvement, but it would make things better for him and he thought that was still important.

Second, he wanted pockets on the inside of the saddle bags. He was tired of stepping on or sitting the things he brought along as snacks. Somethings do not taste better squished. Eggs immediately came to mind. 

Third, he wanted a weather cover for the thing. Not just the normal flap. On the rare occasion that they weren’t on a hostile desert planet or barren rock, like Tatooine and Nevarro, the new place could have rain. You know that water that falls from the sky? Grogu didn’t want to share his seat with that either. He knew what that was like when Din’s water bottle lost its cap. Uncomfortable. 

Forth and finally, he wanted the thing repositioned so he could see his dad’s face or where they were going. He’d had enough of the rear view, thank you very much.

[kestrelmando]

Group Therapy - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by thecyndimistuff (@thecyndimistuff ), apollonkondric , and  floatingearth about Peli Motto taking Din to a support group for empty nesters post S2. 

Warnings/Notes: None, possible a single swear word slipped by. Angsty, introspective Din and space mom Peli Motto taking charge. No romantic pairings, not beta’d please excuse any mistakes until I find them. Couldn’t help to slip a nod my other Mando fic Bird of Prey, Way of War in at the end. 

---

He’s tried being useful around – what were they calling it now? Fett’s Palace? – the palace; taking stock of weapons and resources left behind by Jabba and Fortuna. Weapons he’s familiar with; taking them apart, servicing them, and testing them gives him something to keep him busy and keep his mind occupied.  

He even took to sometimes mirroring Fennec’s imposing, protective place – on the left on Fett, never the right that was Fennec’s earned spot – on the dais when Fett had meetings because no, you should not fuck with the legendary bounty hunter but especially when he’s got a sharp shooting assassin on one shoulder and another infamous bounty hunter clad head to toe in beskar on the other.

He’s done perimeter sweeps with Fennec, who chooses to humor his morose silence, and with Fett, who also allows the silence but is far less indulgent about it. Oh, Fett never calls him out on it. Quite the contrary, bounty hunter to bounty hunter he can read Din like a book and knew from the moment he returned to the Slave that he was not ok. Still wasn’t ok but that doesn’t stop the occasional long drawn sigh from the older man.

All in all, it took a week for Din to be sent to Mos Eisley to ‘pick up supplies’. He wasn’t stupid; he knew Fett could’ve sent anyone working for him to go on a supply run. He initially welcomed the change of scenery before remembering he’d have to travel hours around the Great Mesra Plateau and his only options of landscape were either endless sand or the red rock formations and canyons.

So Din dutifully took a land speeder and set off to Mos Eisley, trying to ignore the repetitive backdrop that allowed him far too much time to think about his foundling and his accidental acquisition of the darksaber with Fett’s warning still ringing in his ears ‘make sure you take that thing with you’.

 ---

 The supplies, or rather supply, in question was a tiny compressor part for the climate control unit that could fit in his pocket.  The vendor had taken one long look at his beskar and held up a bin of the teeny components after Din asked about it and he was done within half an hour.

…Now what?

He found himself following the by now well-known path to Peli Motto’s hanger. She was familiar territory, she was easy to talk to and almost painfully transparent. Perhaps most importantly in this moment; she wanted nothing from him.

The door to Peli’s outbuilding slid open for him and he wandered in, hands painfully empty, and let the pit droids fuss over him. Tatooine’s hot suns greeted him as he stepped into the hanger bay, eyes scanning for the mechanic. The hanger was empty, no parked ship in sight, and the mechanic was elbow deep in a pile of scrap muttering to herself and passing parts and pieces to a pit droid.

Din smiled under his helmet when she tossed a piece of scrap away from her with a huff and it landed near his feet. She turned her head briefly to see where it landed and then whipped it back towards him, hand flying to her heart.

“Stars Mando!” She sat back on her heels and blew out a breath. The mechanic frowned, “Where’s your ship?” Peli stood, dusting her knees and palms off, and took a few steps towards him with a hand pressed above her eyes to block the suns. She looked him over and then stopped dead in her tracks, “Where’s…where is the baby?”

He felt his throat close around any words he was going to say. Peli’s eyes darted around his body; around his hips for the bag, his feet for the little one to pop out around him at any second. She opened her mouth to say something, her face drawn tight, when he simply couldn’t keep up his stoic façade any longer.

A short hiccup, somewhat garbled by the vocoder of the helmet, slipped out followed by a low keen he couldn’t bear to swallow. Din shut his mouth with a snap, a flush creeping up his neck while his hands closed opened and closed around nothing – empty. Peli’s eyebrows rose in concern momentarily before she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before slowly extending her hand towards him. Her fingers closed around his elbow, shoulders losing their tense line when he didn’t protest, and guided him back towards the outbuilding.

Din let her steer him to a small table in the corner and ease him into a chair. She disappeared around the corner momentarily and was back with a bottle of boga noga and two small cups. Peli sank into the chair opposite him and poured a couple fingers the Hutt ale. She curled her hands around her drink and looked up at him, face pinched.

“Just tell me first; is he ok?”

He took a deep breath that sounded strained through the beskar, “Yes.”

Peli visibly deflated as her shoulders sagged in relief, “Oh thank the Force.” She muttered before taking a sip of her ale, wincing a bit.

Despite the lump in his throat, he felt the corners of his mouth quirk upwards in the beginnings of a fond grin. Din swallowed, “His name is Grogu.”

She cocked her head, thinking on the name, and smiled. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and watched the pit droids scurry about the hanger through the viewport. Eventually, she flicked her eyes back up the Mandalorian and asked, “What happened?”

He paused and wondered if it was safe to tell her more than sparse nonspecific details. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; quite the opposite she’d shown herself to be a loyal friend and Din had already entrusted Fett and Shand with the whole story. But Peli was different – she wasn’t a fighter. Still, Moff Gideon was in the custody of the New Republic and Grogu was safe with Skywalker. He supposed it was safe enough.

So he laid it all out for her and once he started he found that he couldn’t stop. He talked about the bounty from the remnant Imperials on Grogu and how the kid had saved his life with the Mudhorn, how he took on the task of keeping him safe as his foundling and out of the hands of those who would hurt him and use him. To their short time on Sorgan and how Grogu terrorized the local wildlife, how he was tasked by his alor to reunite him with other Jedi.  Din told her of his meetings with the Jedi Ahsoka Tano and Bo-Katan, interspersed with a quick and bastardized history of the Mandalore.

He had to pause when he got to Tython. His voice was caught in a steel trap in his throat.

Din considered the shot of ale and tipped the helmet back just enough to not spill it all over himself before downing it. He immediately understood Peli’s grimace when she sipped on hers; it was sweeter and fruiter than he was used to but it was unbearably strong. His eyes watered at the burn. Her gaze flicked to his exposed chin momentarily before darting away and she finished hers too, coughing a little.

She rose her eyebrows at him and he knew what she was thinking; I didn’t think you were allowed to do that.

He continued quietly – Tython, Grogu’s capture, and the Razor Crest getting destroyed. Din covered Morak as clinically as he could and felt the need to explain a bit more about his creed to the mechanic. She watched him carefully and frowned when he began to get hung up. Din gestured uselessly next to her, “I – it should have been a bigger deal. It should have meant everything but I – the kid –“

Peli gently laid her hand on his forearm. His helmet slowly turned to look back at her but she held her ground and patted his arm. Din pressed on and spoke of Gideon’s cruiser, the rescue, and his accidental acquisition of the darksaber. He haltingly recounted his goodbye to his foundling and slumped back in his chair when it was over.

The mechanic was silent next to him, her hand light on his arm, before she turned to him thoughtfully. “Mando—“

Why the hell not. “Din. My name is Din.”

“Din, you did what you had to do for the little one.” She looked nostalgic, “Parent’s sacrifice for their kids. You can’t understand it, can’t know what you are willing to do until you have one. He needed you and you stepped up. I don’t claim to know to know much about your people but it sounds like you fulfilled your mission.”

Peli stood then, collecting the empty glasses. “You say you’re out near the Northern Dune Sea? How long will you be here?”

He nodded absently, “No more than a few days. I’m returning to the palace soon—“

She whirled back around horrified, one of the glasses slipping from her fingers, “Jabba’s Palace?”

Din caught it quickly, “Fett’s Palace.”

Peli wasn’t appeased. “Fett? Boba Fett?”

“Yes—“

“That bantha brain owes me money!”

Din chuckled, realizing she more annoyed than afraid. Fett owed her money? That sounded like a story. Peli headed back towards the kitchenette with a huff and Din dutifully followed with the other glass. Peli sighed exasperatedly, “I was the only one willing to work on that ship of his for years! No one else would touch it, it sat in that hanger for years and no mechanic was willing to do any maintenance on it – oh Peli what if he comes back – well, what’s he gonna be more mad about? That someone was poking around keeping it running or that we just let it sit and get taken by the sands?’

She took the glass from him and deposited it in the sink, “I spent five years taking care of that rust bucket! He comes back looking like hell with no credits and says he’ll pay me ‘soon’. When is ‘soon’?”

He didn’t give it a second thought; Fett had given him way more credits than he’d needed to pay for the part and he knew that she would be a good resource for Fett – she wasn’t afraid of him. He reached into his pocket and held the bag of credits out to her. Peli slowly stretched out her hand and took it, inhaling at the weight of it.

“If that doesn’t cover it let me know. I can pass along that you are willing to work on the Slave, it’d be a regular job.”

Peli passed the heavy bag of credits back and forth between her hands, smiling, and then said, “You know…he can wait a little longer.”

 ---

 Why did he agree to this?

Peli turned from the small table housing drinks and snacks and held out a cup of chilled caf to him. Din slowly turned his head and shoulders towards her and, despite not seeing his face, she read his tone.

She frowned, “Oh right.”

The mechanic turned away for a moment, fiddling with something he couldn’t see, and twisted back with a triumphant grin. Peli brandished a long straw and poked him in the shoulder with it when he didn’t move.

“Come on Mando, just take it.”

With a sigh, Din took the straw and caf before reluctantly following Peli into the other room. All the chatter immediately ceased and six pairs of eyes snapped to him as he rounded the corner with her. He didn’t know what he expected, it was the normal reaction to beskar – still his insides felt hollowed out after his talk and something about it stung a little.

Peli, however, paid it no mind and all but dragged him to a seat next to her. The other occupants, some human and some not, stared and waited for an explanation. The mechanic took a bite of her snack, a large cookie, and chewed slowly. She met the confused and frankly frightened looks of the group and took her time to chew and swallow, all the while rolling her eyes at the over the top reaction.

She was never given a reason to be afraid of her Mandalorian, or even Fett despite his reputation, and he’d always been fair and polite. Oh, she knew their reputation – bloodthirsty, ruthless, and unfeeling. But after seeing Mando with the baby, she had done some digging. Tatooine might be in the backwaters of the galaxy but it had a long history and many colorful inhabitants; between the HoloNet and asking around she’d learned a bit.

That child was never in any danger from the Mandalorian, in fact there was scarcely a safer place to be. Mando – Din – had taken him in and done right be him. Still, she knew he had to be uncomfortable in a place like this. She picked a spot facing the door and had already decided on the way in that she’d do the talking.

She brushed the crumbs off her hands, “Sorry we’re late. This is my friend, Mando.” The silence was deafening but she continued, “He doesn’t say much.”

His helmet turned almost unnoticeably towards her and she met his visor. Peli shrugged and rose her eyebrows; am I wrong? The Mandalorian cocked his head in agreement and leaned back into his seat. She sipped her chilled caf and settled in as a human across from them began to speak. She hadn’t brought him here to talk, she brought him here to listen.

He stiffened when she mentioned it back at the hanger, thinking it was a support group for parents whose children had passed on. But when she clarified that it was for parents without their children with them, whether it be they had simply grown up or were temporarily away, he hadn’t seemed any less rigid.

“I – I’m not his father.”

It was the softest she’d ever heard him and she felt her heart clench at the melancholy tone. His fingers twitched anxiously at his sides, opening and closing.

She countered, “You are in all the ways that matter.”

In the end, Mando tentatively agreed to go with her. The pair listened as the group went around with updates or things they did to alleviate the ache of missing their loved ones; some were grown with families of their own, others had moved off-planet, and some were off training at various academies. They talked about how they kept in contact and how they kept busy. Some tended hydroponic gardens, others kept meticulous journals, and still others traveled. He snorted; one sent his alien foundling with a Jedi across the galaxy and took up being a menacing beskar statue behind an infamous bounty hunter who may or may not be the ruler of Mandalore.

Din retreated into his own thoughts, wondering how Grogu was doing with his training. He could almost picture it in his mind; Grogu’s little brow wrinkled in concentration, maybe with his eyes closed if he was really trying, and the Jedi directing him. He imagined the little womp rat chasing – terrorizing – the local fauna and pouting about not being able to eat all the time. Would he still have his mythosaur pendant? Was he happy?

He blinked back to attention when Peli plucked the straw from his fingers and slid it into his caf with a small clink. People were looking at him expectantly, he swallowed nervously before realizing it was actually Peli there were waiting on.

She stood to get another cookie and Mando took the groups distraction to slip the long straw under his helmet. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but a cold drink was too tempting to pass up. Peli settled back in next to him and began to speak, “Well I have some updates,”

Peli broke the cookie in half and continued, “Corjul still hasn’t left Endor. After all that time on Hoth, he just decided that Endor was ‘perfect’ and he volunteered to monitor the shields. I’m not sure there’s much of anything out there but the natives…but he seems happy.”

Din stared under his helmet – Peli Motto had a kid. He supposed it made sense now he thought about it; why else would she be coming to these meetings? The mechanic finished a bite and folded her arms, “I am glad he’s just an analyst, not running around after Empire remnants. “

He sipped at his now lukewarm caf and wondered what her son looked like. Her voice flitted over his head, "Now Briell—“ Din inhaled sharply and his caf slurped loudly through the straw. Two children? Peli glanced at him, amused, “Briell has been settled nicely on Ord Mantell for a while now with her husband. I’m heading there in a couple weeks, my granddaughter is turning two.”

There was a murmur of appreciation from the group, some congratulating and some asking for a holo. He smiled, happy for her. It seemed the meeting was winding down and he took a long drink of his caf to finish it. “And as for Savi—“ Din choked on his caf, coughing and yanking the straw out from under his helmet to press an ineffectual hand against his chest.

Three. Three children Peli Motto had and Din knew nothing about it. Sure, it hadn’t come up in casual conversation, not that he was much of a conversationalist anyway, but certainly it would have come up? Grogu took to her so quickly and he hadn’t really questioned it but now he could see the pieces fitting together. The way she’d fussed over how to hold Grogu, was he getting enough to eat.

“Anyway, Savi is still planet hopping. He sends a holo when he remembers to. Last I heard he was heading to Coruscant to stay with a friend who’s a lobbyist. Still trying to ‘find himself’.” Peli patted his shoulder, “I’ve got this one to keep me busy and he just hooked me up with a steady new client.”

He took Peli’s cup and his own, following her nodded direction, and went to clean them. It was a simple kitchenette and he used as little of the moisture farmed water as he could to wash them out. His mind wandered again and he palmed the metal knob in his pocket; Fett, in between gasping peals of laughter, telling him that he knew exactly who the Jedi was and that Grogu would be safe with him. He wondered if the kid was pulling all kinds of things out of the air by now – Din smiled – he was going to be a menace once he could grab whatever he wanted regardless of where it was.

Peli’s head poked around the corner, “Hey Mando, you ready to head back?”

The Mandalorian nodded and followed his friend back onto the dusty streets of Mos Eisley. They walked in companionable silence, Din’s head on a swivel watching the road as the twin suns began to set. He fingered the comm unit in his pocket, wondering for the umpteenth time when Skywalker was going to contact him about Grogu’s progress. The man said he’d be allowed to visit, that he wasn’t a believer in separating families but still Din wondered.

“You know, Mando, you’re allowed to miss him and be proud of him.” Peli said next to him.

He looked down to her, “Am I?”

She sighed and stuffed her hands into her pockets, “Yeah. My kids all left Tatooine to do bigger, better things. Of course I miss them, sometimes I miss them more than I can stand but I’m so proud of them. I couldn’t hold onto them forever but it doesn’t mean they are gone for good.”

Din sighed, “I understand that. But he’s – he’s so young what if he doesn’t remember me? What if he’d rather stay with his teacher forever? What if—“

Peli grabbed his elbow, stopping them just outside of her hanger. “He adores you, Din. Anyone can see it, he won’t forget you. He’ll do what he needs to and then you and him will decide what’s next. It isn’t forever.”

He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and swallowed the lump in his throat. It isn’t forever, we will decide what to do next. Din followed her into the outbuilding and stopped when he caught the mischievous look on her face. He slowly tilted his head at her, almost afraid to ask.

“You’ve done me a favor with Fett, Mando. I might have a ship you’d be interested in.”

[nightwingshero]

Just gonna do my own little post from this tag I got from @water-writings because I’m about to get sappy. Under the gifs because apparently this is happening. Don’t look at me, because ewwwww, emotions. 

OKAY, OBVIOUSLY I GOTTA START WITH YOU, MEL! Listen, you’re one of my closest friends on here, and I love our Little Shop of Horrors, okay? Its chaotic and fun, and honestly, I’m truly glad I met you. It’s been...what? Two years??? Which is CRAZY because it doesn’t feel like it, but then it feels like it’s been longer. You never fail to make me laugh when I’m feeling down and I love us talking about our ocs. Camille and Tracey, sure, but most of all, Amikel and Casali. Its never a good night out until Amikel throws a beer bottle to protect Casali. (Mando is tired, but Grogu is having the time of his life--its fine!)

@simonxriley - Seriously...like...okay, I look up to you because, to me, you’re like...a big name in the CoD fandom. I was terrified to talk to you lol but you’re a sweetheart and I love talking with you because you’re an awesome friend and your ideas? *chefs kiss*. I’m really glad to not only read your content and see the awesome stuff you come up with, but to also call you a friend. Your ocs own my ass, and there’s no shame in that at all. One of my favorite mutuals, you never fail to make me smilie. 

@xbaebsae​ - OMFG WHERE TO EVEN START?! Angy, the Cindy to my Brenda, I remember absolutely fanning over Rheese and being like “omg her blog is so cool!!” and then choking??? When you commented on the post about Wren holding a butterknife to John’s throat while drunk??? After breaking into the Ranch with Rowan and Addie??? (It was a straight up drunken Mission Impossible escapade to get Nick’s plane back, but ended with them getting into John’s stash and clothes instead) It was the “omfg its happening” Michael Scott moment for me, and it grew into an awesome friendship that I’m so thankful for. You’re one of the sweetest people I know, and I couldn’t be more thankful to know you. 

@dieguzguz​ - S A M! You’re a sweetie, always so supportive and the creativity you have???? I’ve always admired you and your work. We don’t talk as much as we used to, but you still hold a special place because you’re one of my dearest friends. Moose always makes me smile because he’s so cute??? Like??? It should be illegal??? I’m so happy to have you in my life and you deserve so many good things hun! 

@chyrstis​ - SWEETIE!!! An absolute treasure! Honestly I’m like “don’t deserve this sweetheart on my dash” because you’re just amazing??? And supportive??? And so damn fun to talk to!!! I squealed when we started talking about Alistair, because it was just another thing you and I could talk about, and I’m just AAHHHHH, you’re so much fun to talk to!!! Truly!!! I’m so happy we’re friends, because your comments always make me laugh!!! Always!!! 

@strafethesesinners​ - Lydia, you’re one of my closest friends, truly. I still can’t get over some of the AUs we’ve talked about but honestly, outside of that, you’re one of the most genuine and nice people I’ve ever met. You always have amazing ideas and I’m constantly in awe of you. Cooper is so well thought out and your art????? I can’t believe I went so long without knowing you were the one to draw John in a speedo??? Like...that was one of my favorite things, how did I not know that??? You’re a legend, my friend, and I’m happy to know you!

@smithandrogers​ - okay so...I remember like...being intimidated, so like...when we started talking, I was super excited! And now we’re friends who boop the noses of cows because they deserve it! Listen, I’m so thankful for you, because gushing about our ocs, and just talking, is just...it honestly cheers me up. And talking shit about the Egg is self-care, you know? And omfg, remember Finn and Wren’s fishing incident?! I still think about that!!! I’m always happy to hear from you! (Please give the cow another boop, tell it I said hi!) I’m just glad to call you a friend!!!

@shellibisshe​ - Buddy...listen. You’re talented, you’re fun to talk to, and honestly, you’re such an awesome friend. i know we talk here and there, but omfg. You’re just...you’re one of the sweetest people on here. Always quick to include people, always welcoming and supportive...I really do love talking to you (I’m just really bad at messaging lol it’s a problem). I’m glad we’re mutuals, but most of all, I’m so glad I get to call you a friend. (and trust me, you wanna ship ocs, we can ship ocs lmfao take your pick lol)