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threebea · 1 year ago

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Rewatched Return of the Jedi and forgot how Han and Leia's romance sets up what unselfish love looks like to compare with in the prequels and also gives us context why love can be dangerous for a Jedi.

(Note: this isn't an!dala bashing I like an!dala)

With Han! (Yes! Han the non-Force sensitive.)

Han, we must remember has been out of the loop because of his Carbonite freezing, but even so he wakes up to: someone who loves you. Before that he had Leia declaring: I love you!

He gets very clear signs from Leia that she is in love with him. Like. Very clear out loud signs. In the Ewok village when they reunite they hug.

But he's still jealous of Luke.

So when he finds Leia crying after Luke says he's leaving to face Vader and that he's Leia's brother, his first reaction is jealousy. He gets mad when she refuses to tell him what's wrong. He accuses her of being able to tell Luke but not him, implying obviously she thinks Luke is more important to her.

His fear she doesn't love him back makes him angry.

You can see how it could lead to hate, this kind of situation. Hating Luke and Leia two people he adores because he thinks they're together, which would lead to him suffering unable to let go of his feelings for Leia and Leia suffering from his anger as well. He could destroy all their relationships with his anger, and he's just a normal non-Force sensitive guy.

And Luke and Leia aren't even a thing. He's just assuming! He's letting his emotions control him.

He's about to stomp away with a: bitter forget it! As she sobs.

But he stops! He stops giving into his negative emotions and he goes back to comfort her without demanding answers. He holds her because he loves her. He lets go of his negative emotions and possessive jealous feeling. His love is stronger than his fear.

Then on Endor he point blank asks her if she loves Luke. She answers Yes, not realizing unlike the Skywalkers he didn't get the memo from the Force about the family stuff.

And he is disappointed, but he says he'll step aside. He loves Leia and he's willing to let her go for her happiness.

That's what romantic love without possessive attachment looks like. He loves her. He puts his own initial negative emotions aside.

I always wondered why as a kid this was the romance I liked out of all other movie romances. (Usually I hated romance in things.)

At first I thought it was because there's not a lot of emphasis on it, but now I realised when Han has all the opportunities to do the classic Alpha Male stuff, he doesn't. In other movies he would have walked away and let her cry by herself to make drama. Have the stakes higher. They'd get together in the end but it would be after Han does something heroic and Leia throws herself at him or something. Which would make Leia a prize even though she never had to be.

But Return of the Jedi cuts through it. Han comes back, holds her even though she might not love him. That's incredibly powerful. That moment he holds her and apologizes and lets her cry and is there for her despite his jealously. Even now it's pretty refreshing considering the archetype people associate Han with.

And Han doesn't heroically save Leia to win her. They get held up. She has her gun ready to blast their attackers. They smile at each other. That's the moment he says the words I love you out loud. When she is about to save them.

It's obviously contrasted with Anakin and Padme.

Once again it is very clear how Padme feels. They both verbally reinforce their love for each other.

But Anakin isn't thinking of what Padme would want or asking what she would want. Through out the movie he's obsessed with the idea of her death. Letting himself be corrupted and ultimately killing people so that he doesn't have to feel losing her. Unlike Han, he puts his negative emotions and possession of her above his love for her.

And just like Return of the Jedi is different for Han coming back and holding her, Revenge of the Sith is different because usually movies emphasis all-consuming love as a good thing. Love so strong you would do anything to save them is shown as being selfish in RotS because Anakin does it. He does anything and everything. He makes himself unrecognizable.

He will stop at nothing to keep her. And then the moment he thinks Padme herself is the one trying to take herself away from him. When he thinks she's chosen the other side or Obi-Wan or however you interpret the moment and not him, he doesn't let her go. He doesn't love her enough to see her happy, he attacks her. That's what attachment does. It isn't about the love he truly feels for her, it's about the fear of losing her. His negative emotions ruling him. He lashes out and hurts the person he's supposed to be saving because it was about him, not about her. She became a prop. An icon of his fear of loss.

He wasn't acting on his love when he joins Sidious, he was acting on his fear. It is a selfish moment and ends in everyone suffering.

I can see why there was supposed to be more of a love triangle with them and Obi-Wan in the earlier concepts just to heighten the contrast with Leia and Han.

Han accepts that Leia chooses Luke (even though she didn't). He says he'll let her go to be happy.

Anakin accuses Obi-Wan of turning Padme against him (even though he hasn't). He attacks her when he thinks she's going to leave him.

Anakin's love by itself has never been the problem. It's what love so easily can become if darker emotions are controlling you. The Jedi forbid these kind of relationships because of the powers they hold and how easily love can turn to fear, anger, hatred, and suffering. And because they have powers most do not, how devastating that can be. Jedi learn emotional regulation so they don't get overwhelmed and hurt people. Palpatine made an effort to chip away at those teachings by using Anakin's trauma against him and encouraging him to dig into his negative emotions. That he's right for indulging in them and that it's human and normal to do so.

Sidious tries to do this with Luke. He's taking Luke's love for his friends and emotions and trying to get him to strike him. Use his fear to put him on the path to the Darkside. To give into his hatred and violence.

Then Luke remembers the cave. Killing Vader would be to kill himself, just as Anakin had once done. Winning the fight would be losing his soul.

He lets go of his fear for his friends and his hatred for Sidious and he refuses to fight. He sees the only way forward is love. That when Yoda said he must face Darth Vader before he can be a Jedi this is what he meant. In facing Vader he is facing his own darkness.

This is all to say the Jedi teaching doesn't only apply to Jedi. (I mean it's based on real world practices it's not just fantasy nonsense). But it makes sense that it's very important for Jedi.

This is also why I prefer the release viewing order. It gives a lot more context to the prequels that can get lost in the shuffle. Rather than trying to make prequel concepts fit for the OT, OT concepts are actually being expanded on in the PT. Looking at it the other way around is working backwards from the true starting point.

Tl;dr: Han shows what love without attachment looks like.

Thanks for coming to my blorbo talks.

As always YMMV.

#han solo #leia organa #Anakin Skywalker #padme amidala #hanleia #i wont tag an!dala because this isnt about the positives of their relationship #but i will say i do actually like an!dala #part of the tragedy of the prequels is they do love each other #star wars #ymmv #long post #long post is long #Luke Skywalker

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joelsbloodyhands · 10 months ago

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Envy on Endor

SUMMARY: Din gets jealous when you cuddle an ewok

WARNINGS: None just Din being a jealous tin-man 😌 however if you don’t like cuddling, this is not the fic for you.

A/N: Let’s be honest, how can you not want to cuddle an Ewok? Also, there’s no way in hell Din would ACTUALLY just let you pull him up to a treehouse. That man would have you thrown over his shoulder so quick- (I need to stop before I re-write this fic) 😫 also I should mention Din probably knows what ewoks are but for the sake of this fic and my sanity, let’s all pretend he has no clue (since it wouldn’t be a surprise anyway considering how he barely understands what a Jedi is) 🤭

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader is in an established romantic relationship with Din. Reader has parent relationship with Grogu (no gendered title used). Reader does not have a visible disability.

“I can’t fathom why you’re terrified of Porgs and not of Ewoks,” Din sighs as you laugh excitedly at the fluffy creatures bringing you random stormtrooper helmets that look like they’ve seen better days. “That was one time!” You huff, eyebrows narrowing at him as you stick a tongue out towards him. He chuckles as he watches you murmur thank you’s to the waddling balls of fur. “Yet it seems to happen every time we encounter them,” he mumbles amusingly causing you to shush him.

You had landed on Endor, finding refuge in the lush forests, surprisingly cool on this sunny planet. It hadn’t meant to happen. Encountering pirates on the way to Batuu, the ship was damaged and thus you landed safely onto the green planet unscathed. It had meant to be a quick stop until you had alerted Din to the sighting of something “small, round and fluffy” lurking around the ramp.

Din had been quick to try to deter you, his hand on his blaster as you approached the small bundle of fur, raising a sharp spear your way until you offered it the same blue cookies Din often tried to persuade you not to buy Grogu every time you went to a market. Though much to his surprise, the small creature with large eyes, snatched the snack and gobbled it right up quite happily mumbling some unintelligible language Din couldn’t make sense of and nor could you for that matter, still taking its offering hand and letting it pull you into the forest with Din at your heels and a laughing Grogu in his satchel.

Din had protested the short journey to a cluster of high tree houses, spiralling up into the great trees. The little creature had beckoned you up a wooden set of stairs. Din had taken your wrist, looking up at you from the bottom of the steps and could you see his face, you knew he’d be pouting unhappily.

“Please, mesh’la. Come back to the ship. We don’t know these creatures.”

You had understood his concern of course but part of you yearned for a detour. An adventure. You had both been travelling to and from planets, often with Din disappearing for days on end to collect bounties for credits while you babied Grogu and took care of the ship in his absence. Part of you felt too cooped up in the ship, almost selfishly thanking the maker for causing it to go to disarray and landing you somewhere new.

The small creature babbled up to you as Din’s fingers travelled to yours, intertwining your fingers and gently tugging. You looked back to him, “it’s getting dark, Din. We should spent the night at least.”

He sighed as he watched you turn back and with great difficulty tried to communicate to this brown fluff ball if they could give you some place to rest. Din meanwhile looked down at your son, his big eyes blinking up at his buir with intrigue towards his parents new friend. Din shrugged at him in response as the small boys eyes found the back of your head again cooeing.

The bug-eyed creature had brought the both of you to an empty treehouse, one a lot smaller than the others surrounding the area above. It chattered away in a language neither of you understood but it seemed to quickly learn that it was better to show you with gestures than with words. You had thanked the critter by giving it the rest of the cookies from your bag and offered up a parcel of bantha meat to cook that Din had realised you must have snatched from the pantry on the way off the ship. He smiles underneath his helmet, you were always prepared to take care of everyone.

That’s what he loved most about you.

“What do you think, Din?” You had asked, breaking through his thoughts as he lifted his head to watch you take off your jacket. The small creature had taken the parcel quite happily, waddling excitedly with it out of the house.

“Just one night, cya’rika,” he gently asserted, watching you pout but nod understandably.

“Okay but you have to admit this is pretty neat,” you open your arms twirling on one spot, your eyes looking up towards the top of the house.

A staircase ran around the outside walls, circling to what appeared to be an open topped roof with a balcony. A small table sat in the centre of the room, carved intricately out of wood with what appeared to be a couple of woven moss pillows on either side. Some woven sleeping mats and fur blankets folded neatly in the corner. A fire lantern hung from the staircase and the glow of a fire from outside the hut cast light through the doorway.

Din had to hand it to the creatures, they were rather skilled considering how dopey they looked.

He turned his attention back to you, watching you now pull out two mats and lay them side by side before folding up blankets and placing them down as pillows, setting up your sleeping space. Grogu babbled up at Din who mindlessly lifted his son out of his satchel, watching him scurry off to you, a small hand taking hold of your sleeve as he watched you get everything prepared.

Din wandered off towards the table, removing his weaponry and gear. As he removed some of his armor; opting to keep his chest piece on (just in case), you stood contentedly brushing off your thighs as you overlooked your sleeping arrangements with the small child now gripping your trouser cuff, big brown eyes following your movements. “There,” you clasped your hands together, looking at your son with delight who cooed almost understandably at your cheeriness. “Are you hungry, ad’ika?” The boy cried out happily at the mention of food while Din tried to control his exceeding heart rate that fluttered whenever you spoke in his native language.

It wasn’t your first language.

You had picked up the odd phrase here and there, asking Din to teach you the proper pronunciation. He did so with ease, not really thinking you would adapt or desire to even use it. Safe to say, he was surprised the first time you used the word ad’ika to describe Grogu when singing him to sleep one night. Then his legs nearly gave out under him, the first time he heard your sweet voice call him riduur.

He hadn’t taught you that one.

So the question was; who did teach you?

“Bo told me it means partner,” you had admitted, nervously rocking on your heels at his stuttering reaction. “Did I say it wrong?” You blushed, your lips trembling and eyes watering, worried you may have offended him. Din stepped towards you before stopping himself. If he got any closer, he didn’t know what he’d do but he knew for sure, he wouldn’t want to stop once he started.

“No, cya’rika. Your pronunciation was perfect but-“

“But?” You had interjected, your eyes now on your feet. Din could only recognise the expression as though you were waiting for rejection and that was something Din was absolutely NOT going to do.

“Cya’rika?” You lifted your gaze to his visor, “Riduur means a lot more than partner. Bo told you that, right?”

You frowned in confusion and your body shook anxiously as you stumbled to explain, “Well, she corrected me because I called you my boyfriend and she said the proper word for us- I mean, for you and what you mean to me…that word would be riduur.”

Din fell silent.

Bo you fiend, he mentally tsked.

“It doesn’t mean boyfriend, mesh’la,” Din found himself saying, thinking it would probably be best to rip the bandage off and let you know now to help you realise that you would want to stop using it.

“Oh?” You narrowed your eyes in surprise and he could see the cogs working your brain about why your friend would say that to you.

“Um, it means- well, riduur is- it’s, you’re calling me your husband.”

Your eyes widened and Din had thought he knew how red your face could get but right now your cheeks were as bright as the lava fields of Mustafar.

“It means- I…I called you my husband?” You clarified, your heart pounding erratically.

Din walked to you then silently and your eyes followed his visor until he was stood so close, your head tilted back to meet his gaze. He ran his eyes over your features, noticing that you seemed almost afraid. Not of what he would do. He knew that but afraid that you had upset him.

“You don’t have to stop,” he murmured, a light breath leaving your lips.

“What?” You implored and Din could see the way your body reacted. His eyes on your thighs tensing and the way the knuckles in your hands stiffened, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“You can call me your riduur,” he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction but your cheeks merely bloomed even more crimson than before.

“Ner riduur?”

Din smiled. Your voice interrupting the memory as he met your eyes, now kneeling before him with a small clay bowl of cooked meat and an array of greens.

“Are you hungry? Our friends have cooked the meat and we’re sharing it out. They seem quite pleased. This is for you,” You offered the bowl to him. Din tugged his glove off his hand, taking the bowl with his fingers grazing your warm ones.

“Thank you, cya’rika. I’m glad to hear you’re getting along well with them,” he watches as you beamed happily at his words.

“They seem docile,” you appraised, eyes on the doorway with a finger swiping your chin thoughtfully. “Although I believe them to be perhaps territorial when threatened. They would make for useful allies.”

Din grinned under his helmet.

This was just like you. You find the good in everyone.

“However,” you began and Din’s smile immediately slipped.

“However?” He urged as your brows narrowed.

You laughed, “I did have to sternly inform them that Grogu is our son and not food.” You stood, turning from him while Din scrambled with his words.

“Ner riduur, I don’t like the sound of this. We should leave-“

“Gotcha,” you turned swiftly on your way out the door, winking at him as he let out a heavy sigh. His heart momentarily starting back up again.

“That wasn’t funny,” he poked at the meat with the wooden spork.

You giggled, “I had to say something to get you to lighten up. Grogu is fine. In fact, he’s more than fine. They actually seem to be steering out of his way. He’d used the force earlier to get more meat for his plate. I had to scold him. Not the ewoks.”

“Ewoks?” Din’s shoulders lifted interestedly.

“Yes,” you nodded, “that’s what they are called. The creatures. The Ewok species. One of them had an old book with a description of this planet and the inhabitants.”

“Interesting,” Din looked to the doorway, listening to the small sounds of cheering and clashing of dishes.

He turns back and meets your smile, immediately growing self-conscious at the way you’re staring at him. You giggle when his visor darts down to the bowl and wander towards the doorway, hovering a moment with your hand against the small weaved shutter.

“Enjoy, ner riduur, I’ll make sure our son doesn’t eat too much,” you wink and Din hums lightly under his breath, feeling the overwhelming need to clear his throat when his face grows hotter at your intense eyes.

He hears you giggling again when you shut the door behind you, ensuring his privacy to remove his helmet as he eats.

He doesn’t feel alone as he does though.

Distantly, he can hear the babble of foreign voices and your laughter as well as Grogu’s whines for very likely something more to eat. Din takes his time, eating and surveying your conversation from afar. Something he takes great pleasure in.

A few minutes later, Din stands, his mouth dry from his meal, deciding to venture to find if these creatures have anything to wash their local veggies down with.

He abandons his bowl and the hut, following the light sounds of laughter and foreign voices. In front of one of the treehouses above, Din watches the gathering of Ewoks dancing while playing music. While intrigued by their customs, a flash of green appearing in his peripheral catches his attention and he swiftly turns his visor downward to find his son waddling towards him from out of a nearby hut a lot smaller than the others.

Din bends down, picking Grogu up when he reaches for him.

His son babbles to him in a mumble of incoherent words and mando’a.

“Where is your parent?” Din says. His visor flashes up towards the party above again but you don’t appear to be among them. If you were, Din was pretty sure you’d be prancing around happily like the rest of them.

Grogu babbles again, more increasingly and Din catches the words for “in there” translated from Mando’a. His head turning towards the hue of amber glow emitting from the small hut, shadows dancing from inside.

Din walks toward the door but stops almost instantly before his boots can cross the threshold.

He’s still when he sees you.

Your back to him, crouched down, he watches as you offer your hands to a darkened corner, murmuring soft reassuring words.

Din’s heart paces.

He’s not sure what you’re talking to but nevertheless it has him concerned when his hand lowers to the blaster at his thigh.

Though just as quick as he could hover his hand above it, your hands take the smaller furry ones pulling the shaky ewok from the confines of its comfort bubble. “It’s okay,” you murmur, “see? You are safe.” Din’s heart warms, his hand relaxing at his side. “We are no threat to you,” you whisper and Din goes to turn, a smile on his lips at your tenderness towards these creatures until he sees the way you wrap your arms around the small thing.

He freezes.

You lift it up into your arms, it’s little legs hanging loosely at your side as you clutch it tightly in your embrace, swaying side to side and rubbing your cheek affectionately against its head with a small giggle.

Din’s heart races so fast, he’s afraid the sound of his pulse is echoing through his helmet from his temples.

What in the maker-

The sound of Grogu blowing a loud raspberry fills the silence.

Din steps back suddenly just as your head snaps in his direction at the door. His feet already carrying him as quietly as possible back to your treehouse, patting a jealous Grogu and repeatedly shushing him as he protests in speedy babbles.

A few minutes later and after some pacing, Din ultimately resolved to putting his still babbling son to bed while thinking, if the little womp rat could coherently speak in more mando’a, he was most likely mocking him for running away at the sight of you.

Once Grogu was tucked in and secure, (there was no other balcony from the second floor, just an arched window), Din stomps back down the wooden steps, removing his chest piece and gloves. These small creatures may run in packs but if they were trouble, Din was more than sure he could handle them unarmed.

Once slumped against the tree bark, his ears honing for Grogu’s steady breaths and satisfied with the gentle sound, he lets his eyes fall closed a moment until the growing thud of boots flashes them open again.

You still at the door frame, taking in the relaxed fold of Din’s body in the corner of the room, your eyes frowning between the sleep space you had set up and his position.

When you notice the slight tilt of his head, you put your hands on your hips.

He’s watching you.

He’s awake.

“What?” You inquire, your eyes taking in the silent Mandalorian in front of you. His body stretched out lazily, arm folded against his chest with his back braced against the bark of the treehouse.

Din doesn’t respond.

He’s still fighting the need to shift his body, the discomfort setting in at how hot his face is getting under his helmet. The words burning at the tip of his tongue not quite ready to release. He sighs and you roll your eyes in response, your tired body carrying you up to the second floor to check on your sleeping child.

Leaving the grumpy metal man to his thoughts, Din tries to ignore his desires for you, attempting to drift off to rest but getting a constant flash of the image of you cuddling the Ewok tightly in your arms. Din groans mentally at the sight of your cheek pressed against the top of its furry head, a smile stretched across your face pleasantly. You smooth your fingers through its fur and sway gently from side to side.

Din had yet to hold you like that.

Or hold you in anyway at all.

He had only recently admitted to his feelings and doing so in a rather reserved manner. The closest he’d gotten to touching you was holding your hand. It hadn’t progressed any further since. He wanted to wait until you instigated any physical touch but when you hadn’t, Din just assumed it was unwanted on your part. So he feared the idea of trying to touch you even with your consent.

Did you really want him to? He’d never actually asked. Should he ask? Would you reject him?

He’s not fluffy and his beskar is far from soft but his body can be quite warm after spending most of the day under clothing and armor.

“Din?” Your voice called out in the night.

Oh kriff.

His thoughts had carried themselves to his bed.

The both of you now laying side by side.

A small space between your sleep mats preventing him from feeling your warmth.

“Yes cya’rika?”

Din had watched with stiff hands as you walked back into the hut earlier completely unaware of what he had witnessed. You’d probably think him completely stupid for making such a big deal out of the whole thing. I mean really? Din was older than you and yet he was being completely childish.

Was he really jealous about seeing you hold another creature in a way you had yet to touch him?

“Why are you so quiet?” You questioned.

“Are we not sleeping?” Din replied, matter-of-fact.

But his question left room for an answer and he gets it when he hears you roll over, propping an arm up and looking at his back.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since I came back to rest. What’s wrong?” He feels your eyes burning a hole through his helmet if it were even possible.

“Is it so unusual for me to be quiet, mesh’la? You always said I was deadly silent.” He chuckles, trying to make light while his insides flutter dangerously.

You hum, “This is true but I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Din shudders and he’s thankful you can’t see the movement through his padded suit.

“Everything is fine,” he speaks.

“Why do you lie?” You’re sitting up completely now, cross legged and he can picture your arms over your chest.

“Cya’rika,” he turns back around and sure enough there you are, eyebrows furrowed, arms folded facing him. “I do not lie.”

You exhale, “Din Djarin.”

When you’re using his full name, it’s never a good thing.

“Do you remember when you told me to always share our feelings with one another?”

He sighs. “Yes, I remem-“

“Less than a cycle ago, when Grogu was sick, you took him to Peli and went to the market for medicine. You woke up early and took him. When I woke up, I was beside myself with worry. When eventually you returned in the evening without him, what was my reaction?”

“You were very upset, mesh’la,” he sits up, wanting to provide you with his full attention, knowing you were concerned. It still bothered Din to this day that he overlooked how upset you had been.

“I was very upset, yes and when you told me where Grogu was, what did I say?”

“You told me I made you feel insufficient as a parent because I didn’t tell you our son was sick and made you feel that you couldn’t care for him so left him with a friend who would know what to do.”

“That’s right. I was very angry. I retrieved my son, came back and locked ourselves in our bunk without you until he pulled around from his fever. And what did you say when I finally let you see him?”

“To tell me when you’re upset. So that I can apologise and understand what I had done wrong because I don’t always realise it. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my life with another human.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“To do the same.”

“So that leads us back to the present, my love,” Din’s visor lifts, his heart pounding at the sweet term on your lips. “Tell me what is wrong?”

Din’s body trembles but he swallows a lump in his throat, avoiding your gaze, he lets his thoughts release from his tongue, “Earlier I saw you with one of the creatures.”

You frown but nod, “the ewoks?”

Din nods, “Yes. I saw you holding it rather tightly.”

You seem puzzled until your eyes widen, realising what he’s saying.

“You seemed rather happy when you were holding it. I just thought, well I was curious if that was something you would like to do again?”

It’s silent. It’s so silent Din can hear the rustling of the trees through the forest.

“You mean if I would like to hold the ewok again?” Your voice comes out uneasily, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“I meant, if you would like to hold me?”

Din’s jaw tightens, his eyes closing. He’s so sure you’ll reject him. Why did he even say it? He should’ve just told you something else like how he was worried about the way you joked earlier about the ewoks wanting to eat Grogu, he should’ve just-

“Would you like me to hold you?”

Din’s helmet lifts immediately. His visor on yours and he swears while his head was dropped in denial, you’ve inched closer to him.

“Speak the truth.”

Din’s heart races at your words, his eyes running over your body, you’re practically crawling across to him and his shoulders lift and drop quickly with each uneasy breath he takes.

“Yes,” it’s urgent.

It’s pleading.

But before he can say anything else, your body is curled up into him, your legs trapping his broad ones, your arms slipping under his and flattening deliciously over his aching back muscles. Your head nuzzles up on his chest and Din looks down at your bodies, realising just how perfectly you fit together.

And then you squeeze.

Ever so gently but with enough pressure to send a wave of euphoria drowning out every unsure thought in Din’s mind.

“Is this okay?” You speak softly and Din bends to it, your voice and body draped over him like the softest blanket. His arms loosen, his hands finding refuge over your shoulders, the other weaving his fingers through your hair. You’re so soft. So warm. His fingers tugging gently through your strands, sending aches through your body. Maker, how you’ve longed for him.

“Yes. Is it okay for you?” He needs to know. He needs to know if you wanted this just as much as he does.

“It’s perfect,” and then you lift your head, your mouth inches from the underside of his visor where he swears you must be able to feel his breath escaping there and you do. You have to fight the urge to lift the helmet only so far as to press a soft kiss against those lips you have yet to feel, “You’re perfect, ner riduur.”

You shuffle your head back against his chest, “I’ve always wanted to do this.” You release a satisfied sigh, “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

Din mentally groans, his arms tightening around you.

“I..I thought you’d reject me, ner kar’ta. That’s why I never asked. I’m sorry,” his voice drips with regret. Every night could’ve felt like this.

You giggle and Din feels his whole body relax at the sound.

“Such fools aren’t we? We got there in the end. So I guess I was wondering if we can do this every night?”

Din chuckles, a finger twirling around a strand of your hair, the other resting at your hip, “I was hoping we could. If that’s okay with you?” He takes the opportunity to tug you closer. His hands working over your back now while you shiver happily at the touch.

“Absolutely,” your lips tip into an amused grin, “especially since you got jealous. I need to make sure your needs are sated it seems.” You let your forehead tip against his helmet in a kiss momentarily and Din wished more than anything right now that he wasn’t wearing it at all.

Din doesn’t even argue with your accusation. He was jealous and he knew you’d find every way going forth to gauge that reaction from him again.

“Goodnight, Din,” you giggle, reading his mind.

“Sweet dreams, ner riduur,” he gently nudges his helmet against your head in return, feeling you relax, your eyes closing and gradually falling asleep in his arms.

Din smiles, watching you breathe slow, the puff of your chest felt against his own.

Maybe he should let you drag him on adventures more often if this is how they end.

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #pedro pascal #star wars #din grogu #pedro pascal cinematic universe #Mando x reader #din djarin one shot #mandalorian one shot #Star Wars fanfiction #joelsbloodyhands writes #Pedro Pascal characters #din djarin x you #mandalorian imagine

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causetheturtle · 1 month ago

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I’ve been trying to figure out why Andor’s surprise-baby-epilogue annoys me so much more than Rebels’ - maybe it’s because I was a lot younger when Rebels came out and didn’t notice these tropes as easily, maybe it’s that I was a lot more invested in Kanan and Hera’s relationship than I was in Bix and Cassian’s, maybe I just had higher expectations for Andor. Maybe it’s something as small as the fact that Bix and Cassian’s baby doesn’t even have a name, making it feel like there was such a lack of care or thought put in. It’s probably a mix of lots of things but I think mostly it’s because Jacen does not take Hera out of the narrative in the same way that Bix’s baby does.

Hera is an active player throughout all of Rebels and she’s an important part of the team - not just that, she’s the LEADER of her team and the glue that holds them together. In Rogue One we hear Hera’s name being called and see the Ghost at the Battle of Scarif. We’re told in the epilogue that she fought in the battle of Endor. There’s definitely an argument to be made that Jacen was used to keep Hera from going with Sabine and Ahsoka but even then she’s not disappeared from the show entirely - we still see her and she’s still an active player in the story.

Whereas Bix spends the entire season being pushed to the side and kept out of the action. After episode 6 she shows an active interest in the Rebellion, but then she only really gets one moment when she girlbosses and joins in and then she just… doesn’t do anything again and goes back to staying home. We never see her use her skills as a mechanic to help the Rebellion, we never see her talking to other rebels (outside of a handful of scenes with Wilmon and one scene with Vel), we never even see her on the actual Yavin base - she’s always just in her and Cassian’s house. But we’re told she’s invested in the Rebellion and wants to be part of it, more than Cassian does. So when Cassian makes the decision that he’s done with the Rebellion and wants to leave, while Bix wants to stay, she makes the only decision that she can… SHE’LL leave, forcing Cassian to stay, despite the fact that, again, she’s the one who wanted to stay with the Rebellion while Cassian’s the one who wanted to leave! AND THEN after completely disappearing for the last arc of the show she turns up in the very last scene with a baby, letting us know that THIS was the real reason she left.

That’s the real issue I have with Bix’s ending - that after an entire season of being sidelined, having no real exploration of her trauma and issues, she’s written out in the most cliche way possible. Her greatest addition to the story is carrying on the male main character’s lineage, providing a sense of “hope” at the expense of her character and story.

The baby itself isn’t the issue - it’s the cherry on top.

#star wars rebels #rebels #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla #star wars andor #andor #bix caleen #star wars

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soul-crowned-prince · 4 months ago

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Danny Fenton, Phantom, Danyal Al Ghul, Cursed Al Ghul Heir, Crowned High Prince, Ghost King, Boy King, The Balance.

So many titles, so little meaning, yet so many consequences.

Danyal will endor, he always has.

Danyal has always excelled under pressure, whether it was the weight of his grandfather's expectations or the burden of his own choices. From an early age, he understood, twins were never truly desired. Danyal was attuned to the whispers that surrounded them: that one twin was destined to perish, that one would be deemed lesser, that one would carry a curse. Danyal was acutely aware that they were being tested, that their lessons were being monitored, that only the strongest would survive. And so, Danyal made his choice. He failed the test. Not out of weakness, but out of love. He loved his brother more than he could ever comprehend, and that love meant his brother needed to survive. Their mother, he believed, would protect his brother from here on.

Danyal was dispatched on what he knew would be his final mission. He was aware that those accompanying him had orders to kill him. He understood that his grandfather had betrayed him, forsaking the so-called "cursed" heir. Yet, Danyal resolved not to meet his end without a fight. It was his right as an Al Ghul to resist, to defy his fate with every ounce of strength he possessed. The assassins sent to eliminate him would not return and neither would he. As he prepared for what lay ahead, Danyal clung to one final hope: that his brother would not hate him for abandoning him. He prayed that Damian would understand. However Danyal knew he wouldn't, not if their grandfather could help it.

Danny was to be adopted by the Fentons, who, under the misguided belief that he was possessed by a ghost, sought to "help" him. Ironically, this worked to his advantage, as Danny learned to adapt and perform from them—more so from their daughter. It was a pleasant arrangement, a family without the weight of expectations. He often wondered if Damian would ever experience such a life.

Of course, this was until his death. Death was no stranger to Danyal; he had died many times before. Yet, this time, he did not anticipate returning. Fate, however, proved cruel. Instead of the liberation of death, Danyal was burdened with further chains. He became a hero, then a king. Perhaps he was the cursed twin after all. Danyal could only hope that Damian, at the very least, had found freedom.

𓆸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍

𓆸 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝙵𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎

𓆸 𝚁𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

𓆸 Family and friends are estranged if not, not spoken to at all. However, that does not mean Danyal does not still watch them.

𓆸 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎��𝚜 🟥🕊

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𓆸 No rules for interaction. Send what you want

#danny phantom #ghost king danny #demon twins au #dc rp blog #dc rp #SoundCloud #Spotify

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xwingace · 24 days ago

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A couple of random, non episode-specific Murderbot (TV) thoughts

- "Sanctuary Moon" is also a Star Wars reference. Palpatine refers to Endor that way in Return of the Jedi. The phrase he uses when talking to Luke is "Your friends on the sanctuary moon" that he is 'quite safe' from and that are about to help destroy his empire. Not sure how significant that will turn out to be.

- I'm just a little bothered by that one super-offkey note in the Sanctuary Moon theme. If there were more notes that had the same level of dissonance, it might have been the type of music, but it's pretty much that one note. When we got the theme the first time, I thought it was there to enhance the distortion, but we've gotten the clean version too, and that note is still there. Is the budget of Sanctuary Moon in-universe so low they couldn't even afford a retake or autotune?

- I don't think we've heard Murderbot address Ratthi or Pin-Lee by name and title yet? Mensah, Gurathin and Arada get the Dr. honorifics, Baradwaj gets Professor, but I don't know what the titles for Pin-Lee and Ratthi would be.

- "Professor" is/can be an honorary title for an academic teacher regardless of their degree status. Does Baradwaj get Professor because she's a very high-level and respected researcher who is also teaching, or does she get Professor because it's the only title she has a claim on? (It does seem to be the first, but we don't know)

- That little bit of low-level petty subject-matter rivalry between Mensah and Baradwaj ("I do have a degree in terraforming" "terraforming is just not geochemistry") brings me so much joy and I'm not even sure why. It seems likely that terraforming includes quite a bit of geochemistry even if it isn't quite as specialised. Or, with hindsight, is this Baradwaj's way of trying to keep Mensah out of harm's way?

#murderbot tv #murderbot apple tv #murderbot tv show #sanctuary moon

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warrioreowynofrohan · 2 months ago

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I see a lot of Star Wars blog posts talking about Leia being similar to Anakin and Luke to Padmé, and while I can see that in some respects – Leia definitely has the hotter temper of the two kids – the opposite parallels stand out to me too. In particular, Luke and Anakin are primarily driven by interpersonal relationships. Luke leaves Dagobah and his training to save his frends; he gambles the Endor mission on his determination to save Vader. His love for his family is both what puts him in danger of falling to the Dark Side, and what saves him and Anakin from it.

Leia is far more of a big-picture person, and so was Padmé. Padmé was dealing with responsibility since early in life, escaping from it is an anomaly for her, and even in Revenge of the Sith, when Anakin is worried about her and about their relationship, she’s worried about the Republic and working with people trying to save it. That’s one of the things that makes his turn to evil so fundametally selfish: Padmé would never want her life bought at the price he’s paying for a chance of saving it. Leia’s completely committed to the Rebellion and puts it first. She can control her emptions; she holds it together when her whole planet is destroyed, with ger parents on it. She’s practical and sees the larger picture; she closes the doors on Hoth with Luke and Han both out in the winter night because she knows it’s the only way to protect the people inside. I think part of the reason she’s resistant to falling for Han and angry at both herself and him about it in Empire Strikes Back is because Han at that point isn’t similarly committed to the Rebellion and she doesn’t want to fall for someone who doesn’t share her values. They find a middle ground in Return of the Jedi where she infiltrates Jabba’s palace to save Han (which might be the first major thing sh3 does in the movies that isn’t about the Rebellion) and Han then commits to the Rebellion. Both Obi-Wan and Yoda would have been far happier with Leia as an apprentice than they were with Luke or Anakin, despite her temper, because she can draw a distinction between ‘personal’ and ‘important’ and she’s got greater emotional discipline.

#star wars #leia organa #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #quite apart from the obvious of the guys both growing up on tatooine in obscurity #and the women both growing up as royalty on lush planets #though that plays into the differences #it’s easier to see the big picture when you’re immersed in it from childhood

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website-enjoyer · 4 months ago

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Warden Indrix, Goatfolk Pariah is a really interesting character. He's at the crux of Qud's reckoning with its own inheritance of colonialist fantasy genre tropes, but what does he actually say?

The goatfolk are hostile to nearly everything, populating the jungle in roles such as "shaman" and "bully" (formerly "savage"). The fellowship of wardens, straining to exercise a monopoly on the legitimate use of violence, guarding friendly villages, the "cozy" parts of the game, form the other side of this civilization/wilderness dynamic that players and authors alike have had to reckon with.

The game explicitly frames this conflict in terms of land and locates it in Indrix's neck of the woods in Council at Gamma Rock: "Four wardens from the southern banks of the River Svy ascended the rostrum and reported on goatfolk incursions. The villages of Shebal and Ekamas were sacked inside of a month. The wardens recommended mounting a counteroffensive." Indrix is an outcast goatfolk warrior who now lives in this part of the jungle as a warden.

A parallel here could be drawn to the Arbiter Thel 'Vadam in the Halo series—a reformed warrior who has switched to the side of humanism and order, and a powerful ally. Remember goatfolk savages being renamed? Did you know that the rank of Arbiter was originally called Dervish in the writing for Halo 2 until concerns arose that it would make the human-versus-covenant war read as too much of a US-versus-Islam allegory? Being sci-fi like Qud, Halo also inherits a particular vision of jungles rooted not only in the literature of the world of 1492 but also in Vietnam War literature—in the same way that Star Wars has its forest moon of Endor, inextricably tied up with Apocalypse Now [and therefore, to return back to those earlier roots, The Heart of Darkness].

But while Halo pits its marines against the forces of the Prophet of Truth in a noble struggle to save humanity and Star Wars has its guerillas fighting alongside spear-throwing Ewoks against the evil Empire, Qud's goatfolk/wardens conflict isn't the engine of the narrative. It's a line in an in-game book, a haunting of the jungles with sense memories, and a side quest that comes down to carrying out a fratricide plot [Biblical stylings here] against a cult leader whose sanity-frying power source might be the closest thing in the game to the type of metaphysical evil typically found as the antagonist in roguelike games. Here, the quest to retrieve the Amulet of Yendor for the forces of order is a minor tragedy played out on the sidelines of a much larger narrative whose antagonists (on multiple levels) are materially understood colonizers.

This is a lot to try to unpack. I haven't even gotten into Nuntu and Erah's comments about goatfolk or any of Indrix's own dialogue[!!] here. It's a really messy area. I haven't gotten into the Naphtaali. I want to consider the ways in which Indrix is specifically sexualized in fan responses to the game, in terms of his strength and "goatish nature" and the ways in which he is marked, and what connections there are here with the figure of the brute in the colonial sexual imaginary. I want to consider Mayor Nuntu, the ape who has given up bludgeoning things to death and put on a hat, and the Svenlainard -> Crowsong dynamic, and what Kyakukya as a whole is doing in the narrative of Qud. I think there's something about the stages of development of national consciousness, something Fanonian in there, particularly in relation to Mamon's association with insanity and Indrix's violent responses. What is it? I don't know yet but it's interesting.

#caves of qud

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blue-mint-winter · 26 days ago

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ROTJ rewatch

The circle is now complete and I'm back with some new commentary about ROTJ ;)

I love the Death Star and ship practical effects, the shots are extremely beautiful. I think this is the best looking scifi scenery in OT.

At this point, choking people has become a Skywalker family tradition. Vader does it to his officers, Luke did it to Gamorrean guards and Leia did it to Jabba.

Luke's plan for saving Han seems barely existent. It looks like this: Plan A - Jedi mind trick Jabba to let them all go. Plan B - use lightsaber smuggled inside Artoo to get everyone out. On the other hand, Luke is now powerful and finished his training. It could be that he simply follows the will of the Force, so he doesn't overthink everything and just trusts the process. It's possible that his unwavering confidence in his success is due to his precognition. He doesn't know the details, but he knows that either Jabba lets them go or dies.

I wonder why Luke and Leia didn't coordinate their rescue plans. Leia's inflitration as a bounty hunter went smoothly, but then she got caught. I guess she went against the plan. She was supposed to wait for Luke to get there, but instead got impatient and tried to free Han earlier by herself (what were Lando and Chewie there for?), which led to her enslavement and the loss of her as one more hidden ally at Jabba's.

Leia becoming Jabba's slave girl, kept by him on chain at his side, made me think of Shmi. Shmi was once Jabba's Gardulla's slave (what's really a difference between two Hutts on Tatooine, but at different points in time?). Jabba apparently has a habit of chaining slave girls to himself, as we saw the previous one, Oola, get replaced so swiftly by Leia. Jabba didn't have to enslave Leia like that, he caught her attempting to free Han, but instead of having her killed like he'd do with anyone else, he took a look at her face and decided to enslave her. In any case, I strongly suspect Shmi suffered the same fate as Leia when she was a Hutt's slave.

I laughed when Han said that "everyone's having delusions of grandeur" line about Luke. It's the same thing that Threepio said in ANH about Artoo. Han turning into Threepio wasn't something you'd expect lol :) They spent too much time together.

Emperor's character is insanely well-done. I noticed at times he seemed really impatient, when he started speaking really fast - it seemed like he was bored, because he already knew what was going to happen. He was living through what he's already seen in his visions. (I think it was something similar to Paul's precognition in Dune Messiah.) However, it's interesting that Palpatine's power wasn't as perfect as he thought. He didn't know everything, he didn't sense Luke's presence and didn't foresee Ewoks playing a significant part in the battle.

Luke and Vader could sense each other in the Force and tell each other's whereabouts with enough accuracy to the point Luke felt he was a liability for the Rebels, but Palpatine couldn't sense him at all. It shows that the father-son bond was something different and special. Force- sensitives can't sense each other without a personal connection. It's also possible that Palpatine couldn't perceive Luke, because Luke's bond with Vader was built on familial love. The dark side couldn't touch that.

Luke's bond with Leia is shown to be exceptionally strong too. He immediately figures out that his sister is Leia because he'd felt that connection all this time. When they see each other before going to Endor, she asks right away what's wrong because she sensed the change in Luke. She accepts the truth about their relation, because she always felt the connection. And she can tell that Luke didn't die in Death Star's explosion. I think the strength of their bond is very often overlooked and underestimated. They aren't just normal siblings. Luke feels intense love and protectiveness towards Leia - he attacked Vader only when she was threatened. It can be argued that his insistence to rescue Leia in ANH is the proof of their bond being there from the start. Even in ESB, when he leaves his training to save Han, Leia and Chewie, it's likely that he sensed the danger to them through his connection with Leia. Leia is clearly Luke's weak spot and the Emperor detected it. Some fans and official media didn't.

I really appreciate that Luke is portrayed as more powerful than Vader at this point. He finished his training and he could kill Vader if he wanted to. What's more, he is exactly like Anakin. He feels just as intensely and deeply, he loves just as fiercely. And he struggles with anger just as much. The only difference is Luke's choice. He chooses family over power. It's important that falling to the dark side isn't just having bad thoughts, the actions are necessary.

It's interesting that Palpatine tries to kill Luke himself instead of ordering Vader to do it. He knows it's an order Vader won't obey. Also, Vader seems like he expected to die there at Luke's hands because then it would mean that Luke lives on, even if he becomes Emperor's new apprentice.

It struck me that Luke was alone at his father's funeral. He dragged Vader to the hangar alone. None of the Imperials who saw them there cared about what happened to Vader despite his high position. Then Luke took his father's body to the Forest Moon and build a funeral pyre and cremated him. Alone. Luke was the only person in the entire universe that was sad that Vader died. The only one who mourned him. It reminded me of earlier in the movie, when Luke killed the rancor and the only one who cried and mourned was the rancor keeper. Vader was like that rancor - a monster used by his Master to scare and kill people. Both Vader and the rancor were enslaved - the rancor was confined in a too small basement for its huge body and it was wearing chains. Vader was also kept captive, his body confined in his suit, his mind chained by the dark side.

Btw, Vader's body is burned like Owen and Beru who were killed by his stormtroopers. Luke set out to avenge them in ANH, but it ended up as him losing a parent once again. :'(

Executor's destruction as it drives into the Death Star feels symbolic of Vader's own self-destruction in his attack against the Emperor.

"It's a trap" is the main theme of the movie - there are traps everywhere. The trapdoor in Jabba's palace, the Ewok traps in the forest, Palpatine's trap for the Rebels... Even Han tricks the Imperials to open the bunker and walk into a trap.

So the scene of one Ewok mourning the other during the battle will always get me. It's very powerful in its simplicity. And just like the keeper mourning the rancor, it feels connected to Luke mourning Vader. Perhaps these two Ewoks were also father and son.

Han stood out to me in this movie. Surprisingly, he's good at practicing Jedi rule of non-attachment. Han gives Falcon to Lando because he knows Lando needs that ship more (remember how they argued in ESB about whose ship Falcon is?). Then he's willing to step back and not get in the way when he misunderstands Leia's feelings for Luke. Han stops caring about ownership of the Falcon, he doesn't try to control Leia or pressure her, instead he supports her in whatever she decides. He considers what's best for his loved ones. It's more important than his pride. Just like Luke, Han makes a different choice than Anakin in ROTS and loves selflessly.

Lando was a really good general in battle. I'm surprised the EU didn't have him continue his military career in the New Republic, because it really looks like he has a knack for it.

In the end only Luke and Leia know Vader is their father. That leaves some interesting possibilities for the future. It's likely they would tell Han, but I don't see it becoming public knowledge without any outside interference.

#sw #rotj rewatch #return of the jedi #luke skywalker #darth vader #leia organa #han solo #my thoughts #rotj #my meta

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penvisions · 8 months ago

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 23}

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

Summary: You begin to heal in the safety of the Crest, as you travel alongside Din once again.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, inner musings of reader, mentions of past heartbreak and pain, deadly poison, talks of injuring / killing people, ritualistic and religious activities, talk of past manipulation and administration of sedative drugs, reader has a lot of quiet moments in this, sexual content, kissing, descriptions of the male body, din djarin y'all. those are the ones i can think of, i'm so sleepy

A/N: been recovering from a tooth extraction and needed a little comfort / happiness. so please enjoy this baby chapter that doubles as an interlude before the series picks back up. love y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

The hum of your lightsaber is a quiet one as you practice smooth movements to illuminate the grove of tall trees you’re in the midst of, slicing through the open air of the field to allow you to see in every direction. The sun had set hours ago, the fire crackling still as Din and ad’ika are settled on the other side of the clearing. Both nodded off, as they sit around it with remnants of a giant bird that had been hunted and roasted over it for dinner. Eyes follow the white of your blade, the energy flowing strongly so much so that it lifts the fine hairs on the back of your neck and prickles your skin.

But there’s no one around, even if you think of the shuffling sound that alerted your senses from your own idle relaxation.

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” The deep rumble of Din’s voice calls, still quiet though enough volume to trickle into your ears even as you strain to hear anything out of the ordinary. “I’m not picking up any heat signatures.”

“I could’ve sworn…” With the push of a button, the saber retracts, and you turn around to face the man where he’s sitting and leaning up against a fallen trunk. Endor was alight with so much energy, left over from many battles of wartime that ravaged the world at one point in time. It had been a simple ask, from your lips to Din’s hears. The last sight of battle against the Empire. The last place you one of your own had been rumored to be. Though that was years ago, the energy still lingered. Strong and sparkling all around. It was hard to focus on what was real and what was whispers from the past.

Everything was all so much, you took a deep breath as you engaged your saber again. The white of it glows brightly even as you made your way a few steps into the tree line and ensured that your trio was truly safe. You trusted Din, you had faith in him to keep you safe but there was an underlying feeling of unease on this planet. If for no reason other than your own connection to the force and how it practically bathes everything in sheen here. The planet was one in a long list of those to visit, to search.

“The glow seems…brighter.” Din’s voice was a low velvet caress as you as you fit yourself beside him, close enough to feel the coolness of the beskar that protects his body. But he’s removed the left pauldron, that same arm wrapping around your shoulders and gently pulls you to rest your head against the thick flight suit he dons underneath. His questions are still more statements made that imply his curiosity, though he does outright ask you things in some instances.

But it’s never serious, not since that day he stood beside you as you buried your mother. You appreciate his caution, almost, but you feel…okay. For the most part, more connected with yourself. Despite taking her life, you don’t feel the pull of dark tendrils around your limbs and mind in the quiet darkness of the light or the moments when your brain recalls the ordeal that led to it.

“It’s the energy, it’s so concentrated here.”

“Is…there a reason for that? Beyond the battle taking place here.”

“It’s because he died here. Anakin.” You say his actual name, not the one you know he has taken on in his journey into the dark side. “He brought balance to the force after all the wreckage he caused, all the destruction he caused. It’s not…it’s not common knowledge but he a good man once. Tried to do good, but the Jedi, the teachings and disciplines….they were constricting. Open to interpretation that went against human nature.”

“You trained under him.” He knows that, from the confession you made the first time you headed toward Nevarro with him, at the request of a pleading Greef Karga.

“Yes, him and his master wanted me to train to take over eventually. But not when he was a Jedi, I had only glimpsed him over the couple years I was at the temple. There was a war going on, so many people in and out of those doors. So many Jedi all fighting and more training, more providing guidance and protection. A lost of masters and skilled individuals were lost. But only one Sith can be in power at a time, at full power. To kill your master gains you the title. Anakin…he was struggling even with the best medical aid. If he wasn’t in a bacta tank, he was…hooked up to a respirator and all kinds of support. I never asked what happened to him, but I always wondered if it happened during the attack on the temple. The one that he led.”

“But you didn’t kill him.” Din moves slightly, leaning back into the trunk of the tree he was sitting against more firmly before he helps to situate your legs across his lap. Fingers hidden in gloves trace down the length of your legs, swirling over your knees and down to where you ankles flashed as the fabric bunched up around the tops of your boots. He pulled everything back to cover you, hand tracing back up hooking around your left thigh to hold you to him. Safe, content, even as the conversation gains weight.

“No, when I found out their plans to begin the destruction of Mandalore, I intercepted the first few deployments. The first they chocked up to a mistake on the droids. The second, a judgement in error.”

A breeze picks up and makes its way through the small clearing, Din notices the way you tense and pulls you closer into his body. The beskar captures your heat from leaning against it and it warms you to feel the give of his sides in between the plates.

“Akiz, he fought alongside me. Once he was well enough, we tried our best to do what we could. But the last ship we took down, it was…too much for us to handle alone. Storm troopers managed to get a distress signal out and Moff Gideon came after us. He was lost in the crash, too injured to move without causing more damage. He…he gave me his helmet and told me to run. I barely made it out myself. The gunfire alone, the smoke, the fire, all of it was too much. But it gave some people time to get out, to relocate.”

“Is that when you fled to Tatooine?” The deep tone of his voice washed over you, the attentiveness he exhibited and the questions he had begun to seek answers to soothing your heart, your mind. He was engaging in a way he hadn’t been previously, had said he was unaccustomed to. It made you giddy, that he was willing to ask and converse with you more freely, little jokes sneaking in here and there during the lighter moments. Care and concern cloaking the darker moments.

“Figured the desert was the easiest place to get lost in. They wouldn’t send droves of people to search the sands for one person. Resources were abundant, but not enough for that. I was considered a ‘calculated loss’ at that point. The damage I did outweighing the worth I was to them.”

“I was there a few years before the Empire fell. Once I got the news, I fled home and well, you know how that turned out…”

“But you did good, took out what you could. Helped my people to get to safety, to flee.”

“I could’ve done more, I should’ve done more.” You can’t help the heat that tinges your words, emotions strong on the matter, on the memories. There was so much, so many small things that couldn’t been done or done differently. A dangerous free fall that would once awaken the dark tendrils that lay dormant in the corners of your mind. But since Maldovan, you hadn’t felt the pull of them, the motion of them slithering about and biding their time. They were gone, or at least, they didn’t seem to bother you as much.

“You did what you could, that is enough.” He assures you, his voice holding so much emotion even through the modulator. Soothing you and making sure you understand that what you did do was enough, that it was more than enough. Forsaking what could’ve been done was a dirty business and he knew it all too well.

“You and your space sword.” He jostles you a bit, hand running up and down your arm to keep you warm as another breeze flits by. He thinks he’s funny, you know this because the same rumbling chuckle sounds in his chest as when he had first used the term. There’s no use fighting the smile that pulls at your lips, affection blooming in your chest.

“Wish I had one of those pulse rifles, like you.” You can’t help the slight whine that coats your voice, it was always a lavish thought, to purchase one of your own. “Could cause some good damage with one of those.”

“I’m sure you could, mesh’la.” His laughter echoes around the small clearing and your heart skips a beat, he’s so carefree right now. So at ease and it makes you wish for more moments exactly like it.

“Your laughter makes me happy.” Voice dipping, you reach up to plant both of your hands atop his shoulders and shift to straddle his lap. There’s a twitch against the inside of your thighs that sparks flames across your skin despite the chill of the night air. “It’s such a good sound, ikaad.”

Baby.

“Is that a new nick name?” His big hands wrap around your hips, keeping you steady in his lap, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. He presses his forehead to yours, the coolness of the helmet causing a shudder to race down your spine. He pulls you flush against him, his rough action hitches your breath and it fogs up the front of the helmet.

“Do you like it?” You ask, hesitancy underlying your words even as you press your hands to the sides of his helmet and begin to lift it. Eyes closed, you can hear the compression hiss as you pull it away from him. His hands reach up, helping to guide yours to set it down beside you both. There’s a rustle of fabric, the hiss of leather and then you feel his bare fingers cradle one side of your face while the other spreads across your lower back.

He chuckles once again at the hitch of your breath, the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth and tighten your eyes against the sensation of his skin against yours. His nose brushes yours, his lips a hairsbreadth away, the feel of them so close making you dizzy.

“Moan it into my mouth and we’ll find out.”

And then his lips are on yours.

You take a seat at the makeshift table, fingers trailing over the cabinets and side paneling that have been left open to reveal the caf maker on your way over to it. There's steam rising from the back of it, from the mechanics inside that heat up the water and transform the condensed grounds into caf. Scenting the air and making your heart calm. you hadn't loaded it up nor pressed the button to it up, but Din had.

The hush of water sounding from the fresher tells you where the man in question had disappeared to. The warmth of his body and the comfort of it pressed to had disappeared from the bed and woken you up from your deep slumber.

The helmet he dons is sitting there in the middle of the table, the beskar glowing in the low light it catches. You take a sip of your steaming drink, just a little sip before you reach for it and cradle it in your hands.

The artistry of it is immaculate. Beautiful. You see him in the visor even if he's not behind it. Feel the energy of him in it even if it's not secure over his head. It's a part of him, it's the first thing you had seen of him. It was him, in a way.

Peering inside as you tip it slightly, the panels lining the inside of it glow as the power coursing through them picks up on the energy tingling your entire body. Gentle fingers trace them, feeling the delicate and careful positioning. You didn't dare lift one up to explore underneath, not wanting to activate anything or disrupt anything on accident.

The sound of the shower shutting off barely registers as you continue to look over the precious thing in your hands. You don't know how long you do nor do you register the figure that steps out of the fresher. Eyes focused and mind at peace as your thoughts wander over the skills that went into the creation and forming of the helmet, of the man who wears it.

You wonder if...the Creed is something you would be willing to take, if given the chance.

If it had been offered to you before your master's had found you in the marketplace that fateful day of your childhood. If your mother would have been just as willing to send you away if it meant you'd give up your purchase on what little your family name had and let you go with those who sought you out. She had been hesitant with the Jedi, mulling it over for weeks before she had made the decision to let you go in search of something greater than what she could offer you on K'ath. A blacksmith's daughter, an armorer in training from her own shaping. But that didn't deter you from holding onto your adoration for the skills, the handiwork and devotion it took. You had cultivated it even amidst the jedi, their lack of need for armor or weapons at odds with the interest you held.

You had been so young, it had been a rare instance of intense interest. The man who had seen the power of the Force flowing strongly through you, the easy direction of such casual in the way you had been idly playing with shells laid out before you and the tools of your trade. And then the journey to where you are now had begun. Taken away on a long travel, the first time you had ever been in hyperspace had been something mesmerizing. You hadn’t asked many questions on the way to Coruscant, you had merely followed closely behind the Jedi Master that had seen the potential in your younger self. Even younger than those around you once you were placed amidst a group of six or seven other children. An age gap of four to five years separating you. You had only been six at the time, far too young for the world you had been taken to be a part of.

But despite that, you can recall so clearly the trainings and the meetings, endless conversations about your life and past. The attachments you may have had beyond your mother and if you had any other family they might be able to trace to see how the concentration of your blood was so strongly suited for the life that had become your own.

It had been dizzying, going from a humble life as a blacksmith’s daughter on the mostly oceanic world of K’ath.

But the Mandalorian's....they prided themselves in the armor they dressed in, created rituals around it. The metal it's comprised of was revered, respected, a culmination of everything you felt with the artistry and creation of even the most basic of metal and armor. The man that Din was, the values he held and tried his best to let guide his life...even if the bounty hunting was a little more black and white, a simple way to provide means for his remaining people, his covert...they were admirable. He was admirable. A good man. At the very core of who he was.

The Creed he had sworn...it was something you had been thinking over a lot. Asking him gentle questions here and there as you mulled over specifics and recalled memories of doing the same with Akiz. The man whose last name you had adapted while on the run with him. He hadn't offered you to take his religion, but he had taught it to you, allowed you any knowledge you had sought after to the best of his ability. But there was a clear distinction between the faction he and Din practiced and that prominent on Mandalore. That had been prominent on Mandalore. Even so...the itch was there, to explore it and consider it as an option to truly become more like the person you thought yourself to be.

There was no reason for you to seek a new identity, not now with the royalty of what was almost your life vouching for you with the New Republic and clearing whatever record you had accumulated. Din too, they had vouched for, in regards to the connection with the job you had both worked for his old crew that seemed to be ages ago now...

He's been going without it more, the helmet. When ad'ika is asleep or occupied in the upstairs cabin, his penchant for meditation picked up from you despite his smaller attention span. You had conveyed to him the feeling of the Force and calmly let it flow through your mind, pushing the feeling into his own carefully and showing him some of the faces you recall. Hoping he could practice reaching out, because you had questions too. There didn't seem to be...anyone and it was a rather lonely realization. You had knowledge, but very little from the time you had trained as a girl to the time you had spent with Moff Gideon in his base, with those who were building you up to learn the darker path...

"You look so beautiful, ner kar'ta." Din's deep, unmodulated voice breaks your silent reverie. You don't look up from the helmet in your hands, the scented steam from his wash wafting into the open space of the hold now that he's leaned up against the doorway. Heat floods your face, his unabashed compliment spurring butterflies in your stomach and tingles in your chest.

You ache for him, you had done it back on Maldovan and every day since. Even as he lays beside you each night and cares for you and adi'ka in the ways he knows how. A quiet job he's determined to keep up even in the hard moments, the low moments, the ones where your aversion to touch and conversation flares and your memory fizzles. Actual jobs were slow right now, more focused on beginning the search for other Jedi, others who had been able to devote their life to the ways you had only been beginning to.

You still hadn't looked upon his face, doubt still lingering despite everything you've been through together in nearly a year.

It is a big step, it is a big decision. Monumental, in more ways than one. Words that meant so much shared between you both, for each other. The vows he had written down in your notebook for you to look over, what he recalled from listening to his fellow people in the covert. Spoken word the only way they persevered as they did. He had wanted to share them with you, have you look over them and contemplate them. He wasn’t asking, he wasn’t pushing, it was simply a way for him to express himself and let you come to him slowly in your own time.

But you look up now and you see the shock wash over his features as your eyes take him in.

Tension fills the hold, thickening the air and the tingling in your chest grows as you greedily take in his features.

His skin is bronze all over, you've seen it before. Flashes of it about the cuffs and neckline of his suit, full swaths of it as he lay in bed beside you in his underclothes or sleepwear he’s begun to walk around in on a regular basis. Seen all of it bared, in that one instance he had indulged you in booking a stay instead of returning to the ship… Felt it before with your wandering hands, against your own skin. Both in innocent settings and some that spark thick, syrupy desire low in your middle…

Stray droplets from his wash catch the dull light as he's in nothing but a pair of flight pants, slung low on his narrow hips. Strong arms that are crossed over his chest make your stomach flip. His neck is thick, shoulders broad, skin littered with silvery scars that tell of his past. A strong jaw you only glimpsed at before is now traced by your eyes adorned with dark scruff, his plush lips parted slightly as he almost freezes in his spot. You had felt those lips on your own, the way they moved desperately against you. Conveying so much in a moment when nothing felt like it would be right ever again.

"You're beautiful too." The words are barely a whisper, but they spur him into movement. He's pushing off from the door frame and crossing the space in three long strides. His hands reach and you don't flinch as they wrap around your ribs and help to pull you up from your seat. He simply holds you as you gaze up at him, eyes taking him in and his own roving over your steadily growing smile.

He’s so beautiful, the man standing before you. The man who, when you first met, never anticipating meaning anything to you. But he’s all you want, all you need, he’s…he’s home for you. The reason behind no place ever feeling quite right, the hiding spots you created for yourself just shy of being accommodating. Off kilter in the way that the space inside his ship isn’t. He’s given you so much with his simple disregard for a bounty out on you so long ago, his own actions allowing this feeling to flourish into what it is now. He’s safety, he’s protection, he’s…he’s your heart.

“Ner kar’ta, you’re so beautiful.” You feel the rough palms of his hands rove up to cup your face, his wide eyes so brown and sparkling in a way that you were sure was reserved just for you. Thoughtful in a way most people wouldn’t expect of the man, the Mandalorian – a feared and renowned bounty hunter.

But right now he wasn’t that man, right now he was Din Djarin. The one who had helped you to reclaim your life back, to give you options when there didn’t seem to be anymore to consider. He was the one who had helped you to reclaim so much that you had lost, even things you hadn’t realized.

“You’re too kind, mesh’la,” His head ducks a bit, gaze focused on the pulse he could surely see jumping in the column of your neck. Thick curls tumble, the water still soaked into the tresses smelling so sweet and exactly like you. You can’t help the urge to reach up and run your fingers through them, delighting in the flutter of his long lashes as his eyes close. A deep hum sounds from within his chest, almost vibrating through you with now you’re held so close to him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” And oh it’s so beautiful the way you see the wrinkles around his eyes deepen as his face breaks into an almost shy smile. Eyes wide and earnest as they flutter open in response to your whispered sentiment. The hitch of his breath visible as his chest rises with it and the way his lips nearly tremble as he dips down to capture your own. The words repeated and breathed into you as his strong nose brushes against yours and his hands curling around face. “Gar're ner yaim.”

I love you. You’re my home.

He kisses you, again and again. His lips a soft pressure that makes your heartbeat fast in your chest and you can’t help but tangle your fingers in his damp hair, returning them with as much fever. His own hands, his warm palms trail over the column of your neck to your shoulders. Stirring tingles to dance across the bare skin exposed in your sleepwear of a tank top and shorts.

“Bal gar cuyir pal'vut.” He pulls back just enough to trail his soft lips along your jaw breathing words into the skin there. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck as he begins to nip and lave his tongue down your neck, seeking and praising you in the most intimate way. Your muscles shake as you resist the urge to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, resist the urge to lean in and use your own teeth along the golden planes of his chest. As if reading your thoughts, his arms loop down below your arms, your waist and grab at the back of your thighs. Large hands so secure against the give of them he hauls you up into his hold and begins to walk you towards the open door.

Lips meet lips in deepening kisses, almost desperate and urgent as heat begins to swirl in your belly and arousal tingles brightly across every inch of skin that touches his. Small groans and panting breath bubbling up and are swallowed as his words echo in your head.

And you are mine.

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jpnriikicore · 2 months ago

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── fast and left ( smau )

paring pato o’ward x nascardriver!reader ( masterlist )

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