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The Mandalorian: Din Djarin's Mandalorian Armor & Helmet
Well, since The Mandalorian TV series is going to be a wrap & we're not going to see anything new until The Mandalorian & Grogu film drops, there is one thing I've been wondering about when it comes to Din Djarin's Mandalorian Armor & Helmet….
After his 'Battle of the Mudhorn', Din Djarin & his Mandalorian Armor suffered substantial injury/damage. Even though Djarin did a pretty good job repairing himself, it was quite obvious the Armor took the brunt of all of the damage inflicted by the Mudhorn, and certain parts would have to be replaced. And I liked how they showed Din using his tools to fix his armor; it reminded me of how Tony Stark would use his tools to work on his Iron Man Armor.
But what really struck me were the electronics, circuitry, cabling, tubing & wiring that were exposed just beneath the Armor plating. It seems that Din Djarin's Mando Armor is layered: Outside is the Beskar, while underneath lies the high tech circuits & components. Similar to the hardware that you may see on a circuit board, or what may be seen if you opened up a TV, computer, cell phone or other electronic device.
Although I knew the Mandalorian Helmet was very sophisticated & advanced, I never thought the same of Mandalorian Armor being that complex with electronic components embedded in the armor. I'm curious as to what all of the apparatus & gadgetry are for & exactly what are their functions/ purposes. I also noticed the inner workings of circuitry in a layer of the Armor matches the circuitry located in the interior of Din's Mandalorian Helmet.
Hopefully, some sort of detailed diagram, chart, blueprint, schematic or something similar will be released, showing the layers and the interior build of both Din's Armor and his Helmet.
















#the mandalorian#din djarin#mandalorian armor#mandalorian helmet#din djarin mandalorian helmet#din djarin mandalorian armor#din djarin mandalorian helmet interior#mandalorian helmet interior#mandalorian armor repair#mandalorian armor interior#beskar'gam#beskar#mandalorian armor technology#mandalorian helmet t-visor#mandalorian t-visor#mandalorian technology#mando tech#mandalorian helmet technology#mandalorian helmet tech#mandalorian armor tech#mandalorian wrist gauntlets#mandalorian wrist gauntlet tech
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Clan of Three Halloween Special 2024
Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Force-Sensitive! Reader
Halloween Special
“We have to dress up for them?” Mando’s face was disguised by his helmet as usual, but his dubious tone was unmistakable.
Bo-Katan sighed. “You’ve put on costumes for jobs before, how is this any different?”
“This is for politics. I hate politics,” said Mando.
“You and I are the faces of the new Mandalorian unity—”
“The Armorer is,” interrupted Mando.
“—she doesn’t come with us, so we are the faces of a united Mandalorian front,” continued Bo-Katan. “And as such, we have to show we are both involved in Mandalore’s growth.”
Mando looked at the costume armor to his side. “But I have to wear that?”
“They are having a celebration of their old mythical tales. They are being kind and including us,” said Bo-Katan. “Yes. You are wearing that.”
Mando sighed. “I’m keeping the helmet.”
“Of course,” said Bo-Katan. She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, this’ll be fun. Even Grogu and (Y/N) are getting costumes.”
“(Y/N) will love that,” said Mando sarcastically.
“You didn’t see what costumes they got,” said Bo-Katan, grinning.
Mando sighed.
l
Mando emerged from the government building in his festival garb—his armor now fake but painted with a bright symbol of a sun on the front. A fake sword hung next to his phasers on his belt, and he had an amber cape falling from his shoulders. He was a hero from the mythology of the planet.
“See? Not so bad. You just look like you’re from the Middle Ages,” said Bo-Katan, emerging. She was dressed in armor, as well, but she also had a crown—a queen from old stories.
“As long as I have my phaser to protect my adike, I’ll accept it,” said Mando. The safety of his children one was thing he would not trade for anything.
“Grogu and I are fine,” said (Y/N), coming out.
Grogu waddled beside them in a funny little robe and hat—a wizard. (Mando thought that was an apt choice).
(Y/N) had on dress pants and a tunic, both stitched with designs of red, orange, and yellow across it. A vest finished the outfit, black with outlines of flames. A crown sat on top of their head, and the only thing that was out of place was their phaser at their side. They were undoubtedly some mythological god or magical being.
(Again, Mando approved. (Y/N) had a strange pull on people, a natural leadership, so them being such an important person in mythology made sense. Also, it reminded him of the way they were chosen by Mandalore the Great. Quite frankly, Mando was still surprised and unsure what that meant for them, but it fit them so well).
“You look good,” said Bo-Katan, smiling. “I’m sure your dad is disappointed you’re not a knight in shining armor so he can imagine you with all your Mandalorian armor, but you look good.”
(Y/N) grinned and rolled their eyes. “I have my gauntlet.” They gestured to the painted armor around their wrist. “I have to earn the rest.”
“If saving Mandalore doesn’t earn that, I don’t know what does,” remarked Bo-Katan.
“If they do not feel ready, I will not push them,” said Mando. How someone saw themself and their capabilities was important. If (Y/N) did not feel ready to take on more armor, then he would not push them. It would only hurt them. He looked at (Y/N). “Verd’ika, you fit this mythology.”
“Thanks,” said (Y/N), smiling.
Grogu babbled, and Mando picked him up with a nod. “You look good, too.” Grogu smiled widely.
“Selfish. I already complimented you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu just turned his grin on them.
“Alright, let’s go and enjoy the festival,” said Bo-Katan, facing the music and parade going by. Bright lights were strung across walkways, and delicious smells wafted from every street corner stall.
“Are you hungry?” said Mando, looking at (Y/N) and Grogu.
“A bit,” said (Y/N). Grogu babbled (he was always hungry).
“I’ll get us food,” said Mando.
“Go and enjoy yourself,” said Bo-Katan, nodding to (Y/N). “There are other teenagers around.” She smiled. “Maybe you can make some friends.”
“I have friends,” said (Y/N).
“Mando and Grogu are your family, I’m your boss—”
“I don’t do anything I don’t want to,” said (Y/N) instantly.
“—and your constant rivalry with Miyan Nyk, one of the Armorer’s proteges, really doesn’t count,” finished Bo-Katan.
“No, it doesn’t, he’s just embarrassed he keeps losing to me,” said (Y/N), pleased with themself.
“Just go and get your face painted, buy some stupid trinkets, get some candy, have fun,” said Bo-Katan, dropping some credits into the hand and pushing them forward.
“Whatever, Buir,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes and walking off.
“Did I just get called ‘mom?’ ” said Bo-Katan, blinking.
“No,” said Mando.
“Don’t get jealous, you know you’ll always be their favorite,” said Bo-Katan.
Mando didn’t reply, but his visor was firmly on (Y/N) even as he walked towards the food stall Grogu was waddling towards. He watched with narrowed eyes below his helmet as (Y/N) got some food and was approached by some other teenagers. Obviously, they were all comparing costumes and beginning to chat.
“Relax, Din,” said Bo-Katan, seeing where his attention lay. “They’re just talking to someone.”
“I don’t want them getting into trouble,” said Mando.
“They always do,” said Bo-Katan. “But come on, that’s just normal teenager stuff. They’re talking to people their age—”
“I think one of them is flirting with my ad’ika.” Mando’s hand trailed to his phaser.
“(Y/N) is growing up. That’s going to happen at some point,” said Bo-Katan. She watched (Y/N). “I don’t think they’re interested yet, but you have to know that they’re going to at some point.” She shrugged. “Unless they’re aro.”
“I don’t want them to get hurt,” said Mando.
“Trust me, if someone hurt their feelings, I’m sure (Y/N) could handle them,” said Bo-Katan. “And if they need backup, they have you, me, and a whole planet willing to help them.”
Mando watched (Y/N) grab some food and hesitate before sitting down with the other teenagers, chatting and smiling. They were growing up. They had already overcome so much. He could only hope he got to watch them continue to grow stronger and become the incredible Mandalorian—and, more importantly, the incredible person—he knew they’d become.
Taglist:
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@alexpangender
@painstakingly-juno
@treehouse-mouse
@theurbannoodle
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@snowy-violet
#clan of three#x reader#gn reader#nb reader#x gn reader#x nb reader#x teen reader#x teen!reader#found family#the mandolarian#the mandolorian#mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#mandalorian x teen reader#the mandalorian#mandalorian x teen!reader#mando x teen reader#mando x teen!reader#mandolorian x teen!reader#mandolorian x teen reader#mandolorian x reader#father figure#found family trope#halloween#halloween special#halloween 2024
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Saia
"Why do you paint your armor?" Shin questioned one day, knee propped up against the ledge of the table, artificial light catching the dull silver across their shins.
Sabine glanced up from her pauldron, lifting the brush up just in time to avoid dripping orange all over the drying blue, instead sending a thick blob of paint to drip onto the unprotected table, seeping between once pristine white cracks.
"Mandalorians don't wear their hearts on their sleeve, and many of us choose to cover our faces, so we paint ourselves on our ancestral armor to show the kind of people we are."
"Explain," Their legs lowered from the table, shoulders slouching as they leaned forward, brows furrowing cutely as they focused their entire attention on the artist.
"Well, okay, so our colors aren't random. Each one has some meaning as a whole, one that will be noticed by all Mandalorians, regardless of their standing with a particular group. Grey, that's the color of mourning; You'll be hard pressed to meet any of my people without it, anymore..." The smile slipped from her lips as she brushed her fingers across the plate on her chest.
"Orange is a lust for life, purple is for luck, red..." Her fingers brushed against the dark paint, grimacing at the thought of the paint she though she would never have to spread across her beskar. "Red is the loss a parent; honoring them."
"Blue is the color of reliability, teal is for those that are healing, white is cin vhetin; starting again, gold is the color of vengance, so on and so forth." Picking up a dry brush, Sabine worked away at smoothing and bleeding certain pieces together against the still wet paint on her pauldron.
"It helps us essentially judge the book by it's cover, I guess; A Mandalorian has to be able to really know who they are when they paint their armor, because that determines, or at least, used to, determine if someone was friend or foe."
"Are Mandalorians the only ones who can paint armor?"
"What? No, we don't have exclusive rights to the rainbow," Sabine shook her head. "We had to share with the Zhell," Nose crinkling at her own joke, Sabine lifted her head away from her piece. "Why, you thinking about getting out of the shiny phase?"
Cheeks flushing, Shin's shoulders shrugged as their arms moved to rest on the table, hand reaching across their chest to pull on the neat beaded braid.
"It'd be alright if you were, you know; I always figured you'd look good in blue,"
They snorted, leveling Sabine with a crinkled stare. "You said blue was for Reliability, even after everything, you still believe blue is right?"
"I've never been wrong about what color I used... sometimes the picture around it changes, it's not that the color was bad, or didn't fit the piece, it just needed time to see for itself that it belonged."
Eyebrows furrowing in speculation, their head shook. "Explain it to me like I have never seen color a day in my life,"
"You know, I heard canines may have yellow and blue on the spectrum for their vision," A dorky smile cracked Sabine's face and she had to duck to avoid a flying wet paintbrush that was flung her way.
"The point is, Kurs'kaded, you figured it out... I can't lie and say I didn't doubt it, that I was sure you would stay true to it in the end, because really, i was certain you would have let him kill us..."
Shin's expression dropped at the reminder of Peridea, the reminder of why they were aboard the Jedi's T-6, and not with their Master.
"But you did it, you kept your word... you're just,,, blue."
Shin's lips twisted in a mix of thought and doubt.
"But here, just... Gimme one piece, and I'll think on it for a few days; I'll put on it what I really think of you,"
With reluctance, Shin slid the vambrace from their right wrist, placing it on the table with a heavy thunk. "And here, so you aren't running around without armor," The artist removed her own gauntlet, motioning for them to extend their wrist.
The grey and gold beskar fell shorter than the steel alloy vambrace, stopping at only halfway up her arm instead of closer to her elbow. Shifting uncomfortably, they nodded in false understanding, got up, and promplty exited the room without another word. "Gotta stop giving women emotional talks; they keep walking out on me," The Mandalorian grumbled to herself, picking their pauldron off of the table and turning it in her hands.
▬▬ι═══════>
"Hey, Shin, wait up!" Sabine ducked out of the ghost and into the bustling hangar, grateful to catch Shin and Ahsoka on their way out of the T-6. "I finished your armor!" The adrenaline from the dogfight still rushing through her veins.
Shin blinked once at Sabine, raising their left arm to check the beskar gauntlet on their wrist, seemingly for the first time. "It took you a while,"
"Told you I had to think about it more, now come on," Sabine grabbed a hold of the Apprentice's arm, just above her gauntlet, guiding Shin back through the hangar to the ghost. Hera met their eyes and offered a knowing smile and shake of her head.
"Please don't put anymore paint on my floors!" The General called to their retreating forms, rolling her eyes at the promises from the Mandalorian bouncing back to her. "Kids,"
"Hey, she takes after you more than you'd think," Ahsoka defended with a snarky smile spreading on her face.
"Ta-da!" Sabine guided Shin inside her old room, still thick with the lingering smell of dried paint, hair dye, and the many different perfumes and colognes she'd sprayed over the years. The rebel picked up a decorated piece from the bunk, though it seemed unrecognizable to the blonde now.
The entire piece was painted a dark grey, gold outlining every scratch and dent, with dark blue paint swirling from every notch, interconnecting into a personal galaxy. White and red speckled the purples and blues in their background of mourning, creating a constellation of 'stars' that formed the image of a large wolf in the red, and a smaller wolf in the white.
"It took me a while to figure it out, but I wouldn't take back a single drop," Reaching back again, Sabine pulled the late retrieved hand plate from her pillow. Teal, blue, green, and white clashed together in the form of a crashing wave, a circle of unpainted middle sitting nestled in the darkest of blue, a Moon to always take with them.
They were sad to give up Sabine's gauntlet after weeks of learning how to use beskar to their advantage, and at first, the colors had been an overwhelming distraction. Eventually though, Shin began to embrace the colors they showed to the world, and Sabine was more than glad to help Shin see past what they may have thought of themselves before, and maybe it was a little bit to keep the light from being reflected into her eye when the sun caught her in the middle of staring at them.
#ask prompt#kind of#did you want me to write this?#idc#i did it anyways#sabine wren#shin hati#wolfwren#sabine x shin#shin x sabine#armor#paint
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The Book Of Boba Fett Fix
Hello. Like some, I thought this show was poorly done and wanted it changed. Some of these will be more extensive than others, and it's using the overall premise of the show that was presented. LORD willing, a The Mandalorian season 3 fix will follow this at some point (as his focus in this is minimalized by a lot and his plot with baby yoda is left to be resolved in his own show), with Kenobi, maybe even Ahsoka. Here are the ideas that God, if He wills, blessed me with for this:
EPISODE 1:
Opening in the flashback, Boba is trapped in stomach of the sarlacc pit after nearly being killed in a stupid mistake fighting against Luke and Han in ROTJ. Boba was unable to escape, his body being burned by the digestive fluids of the sarlacc's stomach, it's tentacles wrapped around him, clutching his body to its inside of its stomach.
Trying to pull out of it's grasp only makes the tentacles grip tighter, spikes emerging from the tip that attach to his body, piercing his side, hurting him. Boba extends out the wrist blades in his gauntlets and slices away at the tentacles, trying to pull out through above but unable to (there being nothing to really grab for and his jet pack damaged), as another tentacle reaches for him. Boba slices through the inside of the sarlacc's stomach and punches into it, setting off his gauntlet's flamethrower, burning the sarlacc from the inside out.
Boba crawls out of the side of the sarlacc, bleeding from his pierced side, bursting out of the sand, crawling out, before the blood loss leads him to fall unconscious. His armor is taken by the jawas and he's found and taken by the sandpeople, who do patch up his injuries.
These sandpeople are a different tribe than some of those who attack and try to kill and torture outsiders for their existence. They've taken Boba because when working for Jabba he'd been ordered to murder a tusken who'd been trespassing on his Jabba's property, this tusken digging for melons, not knowing the boundaries of the property. Boba carried the order out.
The tuskens don't seek to murder Boba back, but are going to force him to labor for them as a repayment of the life he took from their tribe. They allow the child and wife of the tusken he murdered to beat upon Boba and force him to look upon the garments of their dead family member. Boba feels guilt for this, remembering the loss of his dad, but refuses to admit it to himself and the tuskens.
Boba tries to escape, using another laborer (someone who'd raided their camp and stole from them, using up their water reserves) as a distraction for their watchdog, throwing the other laborer into the watchdog, but is caught and beaten by the tuskens, them viewing him as distasteful for not being willing to accept responsibility for his actions, after he claims he was just doing his job and that he's not responsible for it.
They force him and the other guy (whose alive but bitter and sore) to labor and dig for melons (being kind of an equivalent to cactus, in a way), under the watch of the tusken son and wife of the member Boba murdered. A creature emerges from the sand and attacks them. The creature brutally kills the other guy and hurts Boba, then attacking the tuskens, the tusken mother shielding her child, then being hit and knocked out, it then going for the child... until Boba takes advantage of the creature being distracted and attacks it from behind, using his chains to choke the creature to death.
Boba then uses the unconscious tusken mother's keys to unlock himself and leaves, the child crying over his unconscious mother, trying to get her to wake up. Boba, hearing the crying of the child, stops and looks back at them, seeing himself as a child crying over his dad's dead body and holding his dad's helmet up to his head. Conflicted over this, begrudgingly he goes back and carries the hurt tusken mother to the tribe, with the child following him.
The child explains what happened, and the tuskens celebrate Boba's actions and helping them and set him free, insisting that, in their minds, by rescuing the child and mom, Boba has repaid his debt to them. Boba seeks the tuskens help finding what happened to his armor, suspecting the jawas, but with so many different jawa sects maneuvering throughout all of tatooine, it could take years to find out which ones took the armor. They allow him to live with them, if he continues to help them.
The basic present day events of episodes 1 and 2 are now in this episode.
Boba examines the holdings within the building, the fortune, the servants, and the Gamorrean Guards, there being only 2 left.
It's explained that the multitude of the other Gamorreans refused to work under Bib Fortuna as they had no loyalty to him and had served Jabba for so long, rejecting the control of the other Hutts as well, a few having been killed by the Hutts for refusing, scattering across tattoine and taking working jobs as grunts for hard labor. The 2 who stayed did so out fear of being killed like the few others.
Boba showcases mercy to them, releasing their binds and allowing them to leave. As a showcase of gratitude, they pledge their loyalty to him.
Boba goes into Mos Espa to proclaim his control of the Hutts territory. The Mayor of Mos Espa refuses to take Boba seriously and dismisses him, refusing the control of anyone not the Hutts, as Bib Fortuna was given control by the Hutts. In retaliation, to show his control, when the Mayor's guards raise their weapons at him, Boba kills them and then forces the Mayor to beg for his life in the town square, to showcase his strength.
This riles up the Hutt twins, who come to Boba and threaten him.
EPISODE 2:
Boba investigates the Hutt's routing of their spice movement. Because of the recent emergence of the New Republic, the Hutts' men can no longer send it directly from the spice mine to a ship. They have to ship it across the planet, before sending it off world, to avoid New Republic patrols.
Boba seeks to sabotage the spice movement to further squeeze the Hutt Cartel. In doing this, he discovers a group of bikers (not multicolored bikes, more like grungy speeder bikes) that are stealing from the sole water supplier of the Hutt Cartel's goons, causing some contention among them.
Boba tracks down and makes a deal with their leader, a girl in her early 20's named Drash, for their assistance, in his goals, after discovering her motive being revenge, as the crime syndicate has been using forced underpaid labor to mine for spice (spice being a drug) on tatooine, Drash's mom being one of the forced laborers, who'd been discarded when she become too weak and is currently dying from exposure in the mining.
At the conclusion of the episode, Black Krrsantan, a hired wookie bounty hunter, uses a bomb to blow in a wall on Boba's palace and defeats the Gamorrean Guards, before reaching Boba's chamber, whose prepared and in his armor.
Boba and Krrsantan battle. Krrsantan showcases his intense skill and strength, able to overpower Boba in this fight, though Boba prevents the wookie from getting a grip on him to avoid any loss of limbs. Drash and her group still disrupt the battle and, with Fennic, they lean it onto their side (though they moreso use their weapons on him, not being strong fighters themselves), Boba luring Krrsantan to the trap door in the throne room and subduing him just enough to trap him.
In flashbacks, Boba has ingratiated himself to the tusken tribe and they teach him how to fight like a tusken, considering he doesn't have weapons or armor, in seeking out said armor on tatooine. Having brought him in as a member, they give him the weird vision quest thing.
In this, Boba sees himself and his dad as the same person, dying like nothing in a pointless battle for a cause they had no stake in. As a result of this, Boba realizes that he's become just like his dad, nearly dying at almost the same age his dad was, and that as much as he's lived his life to avoid his emotions about it, it's ruled him and his identity. He has a catharsis over this.
Boba comes back with the stick and thanks the tuskens for the situation, that this has led him to realize how he operates has done nothing but nearly get him killed. He says that, to him, he still hasn't repaid them for taking that child's dad, tusken female's mate and member of their tribe, from them and owes them.
Afterwards, that entire tusken tribe are murdered by the goons sent by Bib Fortuna under the order of the Hutts, as a way to use their land for their spice running and avoid witnesses and potential conflicts. Boba, essentially reliving the death of his dad through this, is driven by revenge and wants to destroy the crime syndicate for this, placing all of his anger and frustration about his dad's death, how he's lived his life, along with the murder of the tuskens, onto them.
EPISODE 3:
Boba interrogates a chained in the dungeon Krrsantan for any information on the Hutts. Krrsantan maintains his silence. Boba asks him why he's still working for the Hutts, telling him that he's a warrior and that he should be given more respect than being a tool for arrogant nobles. Boba ponders him for a moment, asking him why he was exiled from his home planet Kashyyyk. This only enrages Krrsantan, who practically lunges at Boba, letting out a growl, the chains just barely holding him back.
Meanwhile Drash has followed one of the water shipments to one of the spice mines, seeing Trandoshans force the workers to mine for the spice and antagonizing something in a large animal crate next to the mine (threatening the workers with being fed to the creature if they don't work efficiently), her recording them. She stops and gets ready to leave, but is attacked by a trandoshan. She tries to fight back, but she's not as capable a fighter and has to escape.
Drash gets back to Boba, telling and showing him what she saw. Boba sees that she's been hurt and offers to train her and does so, teaching her the way he was once taught by Cad Bane.
In flashbacks, Boba, angry as a child after the death of his dad, sought revenge on Mace Windu, but was unable to gain it. After Mace Windu died, Boba was left with a feeling of unresolved rage. Cad Bane takes Boba Fett under his wing and trains him. Cad Bane was an old rival of Jango and, in some form, seeks to resolve his rivalry with Jango through Boba, seeking one day to duel Boba to the death, when he comes of age and was fully trained.
Cad Bane taught Boba the skills to become a bounty hunter and be emotionally detached, to seek only his own interests, and that to do anything else, to care about anything or anyone else and put your neck on the line when you gain nothing from it, is weakness and will get you poor and dead, and that he has to ignore those weaknesses.
Boba uses these lessons, from Cad Bane, of lack of mercy, selfishness and emotional detachment, teaching them to Drash, along with how to use the weapons he has. Though, to his surprise, they bond.
Drash tells Boba that her mom is all she has left, after her dad left when she was young, that she felt alone after it, and when her mom was taken by the Hutts she felt angry and powerless.
Boba relates to her through this, telling her that he knows what it's like to lose a parent. Drash feels a sense of understanding with Boba, in what she thinks is the loss of his dad that drives him the same way it drives her. She confides in Boba that she's afraid her mom will die before they can stop the crime syndicate, that she wants her mom to die with the peace of mind that they were stopped, and she doesn't want all this to be for nothing. Boba is effected by this, by her situation, and connects with her over it, but seeks to separate himself from it, telling her that she has to ignore her weaknesses, that they have to stay focused on their goals, their interests, because that's the only way they can succeed and survive.
At the end of the episode, Boba realizes how he can get Krrsantan on their side, showing him the hologram footage Drash took of the trandoshans doing work for the Hutts, asking if he knew the Hutts were working with the trandoshans. Krrsantan becomes enraged and breaks out of the chains, smashing the device on the hologram and getting in Boba's face, who stand completely still, unfazed by this. Boba then says that there's the warrior he'd heard so much about and Krrsantan agrees to help Boba, if he lets him have the the trandoshans for himself. Boba agrees.
EPISODE 4:
Boba continues to train Drash, with Fennic training her in more athletic techniques, as they all plan on a way to sabotage the trandoshan run mine, Boba deducing that they have a creature as a guard there because it may be a larger mine. Drash is unsure if Krrsantan's help can be trusted, but Boba explains to her that trandoshans and wookies have a long and bloody rivalry and that the trandoshans have hunted wookies for sport for their pelts and helped the empire capture and enslave a great many of them, Boba saying that he doesn't trust Krrsantan, but he can count on his hatred and desire for revenge.
Boba plans to use their attack as a way to antagonize the Hutts and cause a ruckus within the loyalties of the crime syndicate, making them look weak, pushing them to make a mistake and tip their hand. They work out an assault, with the help of Krrsantan being the muscle of a full frontal attack, Boba coming in from above, Drash and her gang being a distraction, and Fennic using her sniper techniques from afar.
They debate what to do with the spice, wondering if they could sell it to help fund their goals. Fennic objects to that aggressively, stating that it destroys peoples lives. Boba, seeing her personal involvement, sides with her.
But after that, he questions her. She's conflicted on what to say, but eventually confesses that her parents were addicts and she was raised in squalor. She can't stand the idea of letting more of that trash destroy families like it destroyed hers, it making her an orphan years before she left them in her early teens because she didn't want to deal with them anymore. She says that that helped teach her to depend only on herself though. Boba corrects her, stating that she doesn't now. Fennic shakes off her "depending only on herself" as old habits, stating that it's hard to forget. Boba agrees with that.
They go for the assault and are able to overpower the trandoshans, Krrsantan with intense rage tearing through the trandoshans (tearing one the trandoshan's arms off), but they release their caged animal before the victory is complete: It's a Rancor. Boba tells the others to clear the area, while he uses his jetpack to evade the creature. Boba then feeds the still alive armless trandoshan to the Rancor to distract it and takes this opportunity to order for it to be rendered unconscious with multiple stun shots from all of them, which they do.
Boba and his crew then releases the workers and lets them go, them thanking Boba profusely, Boba being taken aback by this, but also rebuffing the praises. Boba hands off the explosives to Fennic for her to blow up the spice mine with, which she does, leaving it destroyed for all to see.
Boba brings in a Rancor trainer (played by Danny Trejo) to look at the creature, the trainer determining that creature was hurt to make it more savage, pointing to scars on it. Boba wakes the Rancor up and, with the help of the trainer, is able to calm it, feeding it and the trainer explaining the complexity of a Rancor.
The Hutts are shown to be enraged at the loss of the spice mine, their abilities being questioned by other members of the crime syndicate, especially when Boba sends them a message, telling them he knows they had the sandpeople wiped out because they got in the way of their spice routes, having Bib Fortuna contract a local gang to do so and that's why he's doing this, for revenge.
Later Boba talks to Fennic about aquiring more muscle if they're going to be able to take down the Hutts. Fennic agrees.
In flashbacks, it's shown how Boba found Fennic, helped her and got his ship back (less complicated and less time consuming than the show gives, but parts of it are similar). His pitch to Fennic is a bit more nuanced. He insists she owes him, but also tells her that he knows someone like her, just like him, has never had real companionship, stating that people like them need to have the back of eachother. He tells her what he wants to do. She agrees when she hears he's planning on disrupting the spice trade.
EPISODE 5:
The episode starts with the Cobb Vanth scene of him finding some spice runners, the same thing happens there.
Then continues with a very similar opening to episode 5 with Mando, showing Mando doing his thing and going to the other mandalorians, the same thing happens there, being exiled for removing his helmet. Mando is conflicted. He wants to go see Grogu again, even has the chain-mail sweater built out of the spear, but he hasn't tried to go to Luke's jedi school out of here. The difference here is that Mando doesn't go back to Tatooine to get a new ship. He's called there by Fennic for the job. Though he still is seeking a ship and Peli Matto offers to have one for him quickly.
In this, Mando does personally meet and talk with Boba about the situation, and though he is wary of Boba's motives, does want to help and repay Boba for his assistance before. Boba asks if Mando can gather the help of his fellow mandalorians for assistance here, this being one of the reasons they chose him. Mando explains that he can't call on them because of his banishment from the mandalorians due to his removing his helmet, and because of that he has no way to contact them in their new location as he wasn't privy to it. Mando then states in recent days before he was called to tatooine the assassin's guild has blacklisted Boba under the orders of the Hutts, so even if he could pay for enough muscle they'd never agree. Mando suggests that he once worked with Cobb Vanth and some townspeople that could help them, suggesting that this spice running throughout tatooine may be motive enough for them to help, not just money.
Boba and Mando go to Cobb Vanth and try to convince him to help, Boba offering money for their assistance. Boba and Cobb exchange words about Cobb having used Boba's armor. Cobb is uncertain, but says he'll talk it over with the townspeople. Boba and Mando leave.
After returning to the palace, Boba feeds and further bonds with the rancor, as he and Mando discuss their other options if Cobb doesn't agree. Boba speaks to the Gamorrean Guards about the rest of the scattered Gamorreans across tatooine, Boba asking them to recruit their help, as an honor bound rebuke of the Hutts having killed some of their kind, promising them large payments for their assistance.
Meanwhile Cobb pitches this to the townspeople, who don't want to get involved, though Cobb suggests to prevent this from becoming their problem, getting involved may be necessary. One of the kids inform Cobb that someone is coming towards the town.
Cobb goes outside and sees Cad Bane walking into the town, out of the desert.
Cad demands that Cobb stays out of the business of the crime syndicate and allows the spice to run through tatooine. The same thing happens. There's a shootout, Cad guns Cobb down, killing him, warns the rest of the town's inhabitants and walks away, back into the desert.
Mando and Boba get word of what happened, and from the description Boba quickly realizes who it was.
EPISODE 6:
In the flashbacks, a now 18 year old Boba (played by Daniel Logan) is shown being trained to kill without mercy in capturing a bounty that's ordered to be brought in dead, but Boba hesitates when the bounty begs for mercy saying that he has a child, Cad coming from behind Boba and shooting the bounty when he reaches for a knife in his boot. Cad mocks Boba's hesitancy and tells him that that guy would've wound up dead anyway by another bounty hunter, so showing mercy achieves nothing, telling him that the machine always turns and all they can do is find a way to get something out of it for themselves.
They get a report on a bounty for Aurra Sing, but Cad shuts down going after it. In spite of the training he gets from Cad Bane, Boba still holds a soft spot for Aurra Sing, a bounty hunter who'd looked after him after his dad had died, even though she'd betrayed and abandoned him.
As Boba trains in his speed at firing, Cad dismisses his attempts to get faster, stating that he'll never be faster than him, when the assassins guild reports the bounty is no longer available as Aurra's been captured and set to be executed for her crimes on another planet.
Despite Cad Bane's advice, Boba seeks to rescue Aurra after hearing this. He plans an escape for her, then when he gets to the planet, he finds she's already been taken by Cad Bane, Cad using her as a simultaneous lesson to Boba and a way to push Boba to completing Cad Bane's rivalry with Jango. Cad Bane murders Aurra Sing in cold blood in front of Boba and challenges him to a duel, to force Boba to have the, in Cad's mind, what it takes, to murder him, so the duel would be fair for him.
Boba and Cad Bane, using a unique round of pure beskar (which can pierce beskar armor) he'd acquired, dueled eachother. Boba's no match for Cad's firing speed, but is able to move fast enough that the beskar round hits his head at an angle and only dents his helmet, pulling his gun at that exact moment and firing on Cad, hitting him in the side, his weapon being thrown from his hand, the force of the beskar round knocking Boba's helmet off.
Boba gets up, picks up his helmet and walks up to a bleeding and dying Cad Bane, looking at his now dented helmet, his dad's helmet, remembering himself holding the same helmet as a child after his dad was killed, then looking over at the dead Aurra Sing, then back to the dying Cad Bane, telling Cad that he was right, that caring about things, about anything other than himself, it is weak. Boba places the helmet back on his head, then asserting that it's not a mistake he'll make again. Cad tells him to finish it. Boba simply says that granting him a quick death would be merciful, then turning his back on Cad and walking away, leaving Cad yelling out at him.
As he went on he further honed his abilities, and used the teaching Cad Bane had given, always have a price, look out for no one but yourself, anything else is a weakness, doing this as a way to avoid connecting with, caring about and losing someone.
Boba Fett ponders Cad Bane being involved. Fennic notes what she sees as him looking like he'd seen a ghost.
Drash wants to head out to check on her mom. Before she leaves, she thanks Boba for helping her stop the crime syndicate from hurting the people of tatooine, for training her. Boba contemplates this, that he's using her and the others just to get revenge and stops her, giving her his wrist gauntlet, telling her she'll need a weapon in case someone comes for her, giving her his wrist gauntlet for defense, reminding her of the mechanism on it for the gas, fire and shrapnel.
Mando comments on Boba's mentoring of the girl, citing it as very mandolorian of him. Boba dismisses it, saying that his dad worked his entire adult life to be free of that bantha fodder. Mando addresses that, saying that in spite of that, his dad still sought connection in a son. Boba remarks that look where that got em, stating that he won't end up like his dad. Boba then turns the situation back on Mando, asking him about what happened with his kid. Mando states that his mission is done, the child was returned to his people. Boba asks him that's all there is to it. Mando states that he doesn't know if he will see him again, as he's on a different path.
Cad Bane reports to the Hutts the death of Cobb Vanth. He tells them that it's time to uphold their end of the bargain, that it's a win-win scenario for him to kill Boba Fett.
Boba seeks to confront Cad Bane, but is talked out of it by Fennic. Meanwhile Cad works out a scheme to weaken Boba.
Drash arrives at her home to check on her mom, who she finds in her last moments, her mom dying soon after. Drash is devestated, that turning into anger.
When she returns to Jabba's palace, Boba asks her about her mom, and Drash tells him she died. Boba is concerned for Drash because of this, asking how she's feeling. She reiterates his words, Cad Bane's words, back to him, "Ignore my weaknesses", which unsettles Boba, seeing the cycle continue.
Drash has come to suspect that the Mayor is the one who supplied to slaves for the Hutts to use in the mining, gaining word that the Mayor knows the locations of all the spice mines, which she informs Boba of. Mando suspects that this rumor being passed around may be a trap for them. Drash is adamant to confront the Mayor. Boba sees the information as too valuable in putting down the Hutts operation, for good, that it's worth the risk.
Boba then makes preparations with the many Gamorreans that have been gathered to prepare to come in on speeders from the palace, as a sneak attack from behind should this be a trap. Boba and his gang gears up, Boba even putting the gaffi stick on his back.
They scope out the area and sees The Mayor's home being guarded by several armed individuals. Using stealth, Boba, Krrsantan, Drash and her crew take out the guards and enter the home, shooting his main guard, which they do realize was actually to keep him in rather than keep them out, seeing that he's a prisoner and the Hutts betrayed him by using him for bait, over a dozen assassins, with various members of the gangs under the Hutts, trandoshans among them, surrounding the area.
Boba has prepared for this and has Mando and Fennic in sniper positions. But they're all held at a stalemate when assassins use laser scopes to show they have snipers positions on Fennic and Mando (a laser pointed at his neck avoiding his armor defense), and with Boba having prepped explosives in the surrounding buildings with a dead man switch so if any of the assassins come closer they'll be blown apart, which catches Drash off guard, her surprised at the callous disregard for the potential collateral damage it could cause from him, objecting to that, but Boba states to her that it's what's necessary for their survival, asking her if she wants to take them down or not.
But what Boba isn't prepared for is Cad Bane stepping in from the crowd of assassins. Boba is shaken.
Cad taunts him, telling him about how he's heard about his "heroic" feats in rescuing the slaves and fighting against the Hutts to free the people of tatooine from their grip. Cad reveals to his allies that Boba's been using them to get revenge on the Hutts for the killing of the sandpeople (saying that deep down Boba's still just a little boy who can't let go of his daddy), and doesn't really care about this cause, this leading to some rumblings for Drash and her crew. Cad then tells Boba to drop the act and face him. Boba dismisses Cad's confidence in this trap, telling him that he always has a backup. Cad has no fear at this, instead dragging out some beaten up and bloodied Gamorreans. Cad tells Boba he taught him everything he knows, and figured he'd find a way to get some backup with Cobb Vanth's town being intimidated into submission and it wasn't a hard guess where they'd be.
In this we see that Jabba's palace has been blown apart.
EPISODE 7:
Open where we ended the previous episode, Boba and Cad's sides stuck at a stalemate. Cad holding some of the Gamorreans on their knees at gunpoint. He threatens to execute them one at a time if Boba doesn't surrender himself.
Drash is distraught at this, trying to push Boba to do something. Boba tells her that they can't turn themselves over and they have them outnumbered, if they exited the building and surrendered there'd be almost nothing left to stop them from killing them all.
Cad asks the gamorrean if he's going to beg and it growls that he'd rather die than beg, and Cad shoots him, causing Drash to become emotional try and nearly go out herself, but Boba stops her, telling her that she has to follow his orders here. She asks why she should trust him. Boba tells her that they all still want the same thing. She states that these people mean nothing to him, it's only about revenge. Boba tells her that that's what's necessary to get the job done and that if they give up now, the syndicate wins and if that happens they'll continue and that she won't get revenge on them, as he knows she wants that too, that to achieve what needs to be done they have to be ruthless.
Mando contacts Boba for an order, before he and Fennic share a look of guilt at the situation, Fennic signaling Mando that she's going to contact Boba, asking him over her communicator about this. Boba tells her that he'll kill them all anyway and everyone else, they're witnesses and threats, the Hutts would want them gone and Cad would do it. Fennic asks if he's sure, and Boba responds that he knows him.
Cad hands off his blaster to an assassin, who murders another gamorrean (Cad's contacting the Hutts, telling them they have Boba cornered and to send them in), Drash's disgust and conflict builds and she leaves the front of the building to go into the center area where the Mayor is being held. She channels her frustration into interrogating the Mayor, demanding the location of the Hutts from him and the spice shipping port. He asserts he knows nothing.
Drash tells him that she knows what he did, that he handed the people over to Jabba to be slaves and, pointing her flamethrower gauntlet at him, tells him that she'll hold him responsible for her mom's death if he doesn't tell. He says they'll kill him and she, in her anger, asks him if he thinks she won't, as she blasts flames onto his hand, the mayor yelling out in agony.
Boba hears the yelling, and goes to check on it, to see Drash switching to burning the Mayor's other arm. He sternly asks her what she's doing. She says what they came here for.
The Mayor confesses they're on a barge outside the city, as they don't want to look weak to the other leaders due to the current dissension among them so they're close by, but not too close, to maintain the facade of them having a hands on approach, and the location of the spice shipping port.
Boba is uncertain about this when he's called up front by Cad, whose now drug out the 2 gamorreans who were his guards, telling him that he knows these 2 worked for him personally, and to come out or they'll see what loyalty to him gets them.
Boba stands by the entrance in conflict as Cad counts down from 3. Just before 0, Boba takes off the gaffi stick he's wearing, exits the building, now wearing his helmet, yelling out to Cad to stop, with his rifle pointed at him. Boba states that if he's killed the entire place goes up, and his men won't risk that, they only care about themselves. Cad, with a chuckle says, "if that isn't the quacta calling the stifling slimy.", telling him that he's walking out here like he's some type of hero, knowing that he's in no danger and then tells Boba that if he opens fire, the sniper on his friends will take them out, telling him that having so many weaknesses has put him in a vulnerable position, and some things never change, even though he taught Boba to be smarter than that.
Boba tells Cad that only really taught him how to wind up dead and alone for an empty payday just like his dad. Cad, with a smirk, tells him that that's only true for those who aren't skilled enough at the job, then saying that they can see here and now whose more skilled at it. Boba tells him that he's not a child anymore, Cad can't manipulate him. Cad says that they'll see about that, as he repositions his blaster at the head of the gamorrean guard.
Meanwhile Mando is contacted on his comms by someone and he relays this to Fennic and Boba.
In that moment, Cobb Vanth's townspeople ride in on speeders and begin to open fire on the assassins.
Cad swiftly takes his gun away from the gamorrean and to the townspeople for his defense, as Mando and Fennic take cover from the distracted snipers in the flurry, finding better vantage points for fire.
Cad takes cover, but tries to get off a shot at the gamorrean as it rushes to Boba's side, Boba firing his rifle at him to stop it, Cad avoiding the rifle fire with his cover though it does prevent him from getting his shot off. Drash and her people are back up top, engaging with the gunfire.
Boba orders Fennic and Mando to get out of here and get to the spice shipping port, giving her the location, and torch it, that should take out their entire unshipped supply. They take the order and take off on speeder bikes to the location.
Cad's forces having been pushed back into cover, no longer in a position of threat leads to Cad communicating with the outside of the town and tells them to activate them.
Boba, Drash, her crew, the gamorreans and Krrsantan, with the townspeople are outside the Mayor's building at the front, taking in the moment of reprieve.
Some of the assassins are dead, but the one that murdered one of the gamorreans is still alive, wounded. Drash walks up to him and picks up his blaster that he's trying to reach for, coldly shooting him dead.
Boba sees this and has a moment of concern, contacting Fennic and Mando to ask if they're at the shipping port yet.
But that's cut short, when they hear clanging noises heading towards them, then seeing the entering large droidekas.
Everyone immediately fires upon them, but the shield deflects it all and the droidekas open fire on everyone, them all going for cover. They destroy some of the surrounding buildings as well, civilians in them having to take cover themselves.
Mando hears the blasting and he and Fennic stop their speeders and ask what's going on. Boba tells them they sent in droidekas, insisting they get to the spice. Mando, refusing to run away from a town being destroyed by droids, tells Fennic he's going back, telling her to get to the shipping port, because if she destroys that, the Hutts operation is crippled. Fennic agrees.
Cad and his assassins step out, giving more exact shots at them while they're trying to maintain their cover, Cad contacting Boba through one of his communication channels and telling him the Hutts spared no expense to solve this problem.
Boba tells his people they have to fall back, they weren't prepared for this, they can get his ship and go after the Hutts, make them stop these things. One of Drash's crew says that they can't, the civilians could be slaughtered if they leave, telling him they're drawing most of the fire.
Boba tells them it's an order and uses the rocket on his jetpack as a distraction to give them all cover for some escape. But the townspeople refuse, as does some of Drash's crew.
Boba uses his jetpack to get to the palace, seeing it wrecked (though the hangar for his ship is still standing), then seeing a lot of gamorreans alive, but injured and unable to move, then seeing one of the gamorreans bleeding out under some debris. Boba pulls the debris off and has a moment of sympathy for the gamorrean, telling him he's sorry, and then the creature dies.
One of Drash's crew contacts Boba if Drash is with him, as she's gone. He says no. They say that she wouldn't just abandon the people. Boba has a moment of reflection, saying that he would, then realizing that she went after the Hutts. Boba goes to his ship to activate it, but he sees it's been rigged to explode by Cad Bane if he starts it. Furious, he leaves the ship, unsure what to do, then seeing the trap door under the palace, getting an idea.
Cut to Fennic reaching the shipping port, seeing a limited amount of guards there.
Meanwhile the people are overwhelmed by the droidekas, unable to get any shots off at Cad or his men, the blaster fire from the droids chipping away at their cover as it slowly moves toward them. Krrsantan is furious that they're being forced to hide.
Mando flies in on his jetpack, blasting at the droidekas, them redirecting their fire at him. He avoids the droidekas blasts at him at first, but has a near miss that knocks him to the ground. His jetpack damaged, he quickly takes it off, and takes cover with the droidekas attention now fully on him. They start firing at his cover, tearing at it, hitting him in a part of his arm that doesn't have armor on it, as he moves to avoid the blasts.
When suddenly, from behind the buildings, the rancor rises up with Boba riding it.
The rancor tackles one of the droidekas, taking them off of Mando. The blasts of the droidekas only make the rancor angry, it's hide too thick.
Mando takes the opportunity to start shooting fire and blaster bolts at the other droideka, it redirecting at him, which he avoids with cover, Mando contacting Boba on comms, telling him that the shields are too strong.
Boba questions how they're going to get them down. Mando tells him that he knows these things, their shields are meant to keep everything but their own droid construction out, he and Boba working out a plan.
Mando keeps his droideka on him distracted, while Boba pushes the other droideka with the rancor towards that one.
Cad Bane and his men start firing upon Boba and Mando, seeing that they're successfully distracting the droideka. Krrsantan sees a trandoshan distracted by firing upon them and he stalks up to him, retracting his claws to tear at the trandoshan from behind, but he's hit by stray blaster fire, which alerts the trandoshan who quickly turns and shoots him again as well.
The droidekas are pushed together, going through eachothers shields, as Boba fires at Mando's and Mando fires at Boba's, both from behind the droidekas. The droidekas turn their blasters towards eachother and blast at eachother as they're tangled in eachother's shields, Mando's destroying Boba's, this distraction and their shields being damaged by being tangled together allows Mando get past the shield and in a moment of steadiness with the darksaber he turns it on and slashes at it's legs and then slices through it entirely, destroying it.
Boba asks Mando if all the civilians and his people are out of the way and Mando confirms it. Boba then sets off the bombs he had placed, which blows up, destroying the Mayor's building, some surrounding area and taking out a lot of Cad's men. Boba gets off of the rancor, settling it for a moment, before seeing that some of his people are cornered by one of Cad's men-
The trandoshan points his gun at Krrsantan's head, as he lays on the ground badly wounded, the trandoshan about to finish him off, and for a moment a look of sadness crosses over Krrsantan's face. Boba shoots the trandoshan, killing him, and one of Drash's gang quickly rushes to Krrsantan's side, Boba getting there as well, trying to tend to his wound, but he's angry, willing to die, hating himself, saying he deserves it.
When Boba asks him why, Krrsantan tells his greatest shame, that he used his claws to harm one of his own for the sake of luring trandoshans to him so he could kill them for sport. It was the greatest crime a wookie can commit. It was punishable by eternal exile from his people and his world and all it's beauty and connection, and Krrsantan has been living in shame with a hole in his life at the loss of his home and people ever since, and he has displaced blame on the trandoshans about it, but he's now admitting to himself that he betrayed his people and what they stood for and he deserves to die for it.
Boba tells him he understands, but states that they're all monsters, they've all done terrible things, but they're also warriors and they can't change what they've done, asking Krrsantan if he's going to die knowing he's given up or if he's willing to fight to try and fix things. This motivates the wookiee and he allows the humans to help him.
Most of Boba's people are helping to get some civilians even further away, when Cad calls Boba out, telling him he has no one to hide behind anymore, that "it's just me and you now".
Boba first tells Mando and the other guy to get Krrsantan out of here, then readies his rifle and steps out to face Cad, saying that that goes for both of them, pointing out that his people have either died or ran off, telling Cad that that's what having no loyalty will get you.
Cad dismisses his claim, firing back with how he used these people for his own ends, just like Cad taught him, so he has no leg to stand on in his attempt at a moral high ground. Boba admits that Cad's lessons, what he learned in his life before that, are a hard thing to shake loose, and maybe he can never escape them, but he can try.
Cad asks him if that's why he came back to help these people, to try and prove to himself he was something he's not. Boba tells Cad that he doesn't know him anymore and maybe he never did, but he's learned that he's not gonna be caught in this trap of life that Cad convinced him as a child he had to be anymore.
Cad mocks his claim of being a changed man, stating that once you start this life, there's no changing, that Boba oughta know that, his dad never escaped it. Boba states that he's not his dad and he's not Cad Bane, he chooses who he is and he's seen what the consequences of his actions are, so he has a lot to make up for, so under his watch no more innocent people are gonna die, or be locked up, or live in fear. Cad tells Boba to prove it, to finish it right here and now.
Meanwhile Mando, as he helps get Krrsantan into a landspeeder, sees Peli Motto's shop closed up. He quickly makes his way over to it, opening it to nearly be shot by her. She at first says sorry, she thought he was a looter, asking if he came for his ship. Mando tells her that he wanted to make sure she was ok, then realizing what she said, asking if she's finished his ship already. She affirms she did.
Cutting back to the action, Boba understands what Cad wants and that's that they have a good old fashioned gunfight, Boba dropping the rifle, taking off his jetpack and readying his hand over his blaster in it's holster.
They stand on opposing sides of eachother. Close up shots of their eyes intercut, prepping the shot, their hands hovering over their blasters.
Cad gets off the first shot at Boba's throat, which Boba blocks with his gauntlet. Boba takes his shot at Cad's chest, which he dodges, quick to react, taking aim and firing at Boba at the same time. Boba is hit in the side, him quickly taking cover behind a wall of the Mayor's now near demolished building, holding the bloody wound in his side.
Cad tells him that he's still not faster than him as he strides up to the where Boba is.
Boba makes for an attempt at a quick shot around the corner of the wall at Cad, but he's too fast, firing at the wall before Boba can.
Boba looks around, searching for a way out but the entire area is blocked off by walls and building debris, then his eyes falling on the gaffi stick.
Cad Bane is confident in his victory as he sees Boba's blood on the ground in the road, then telling him that if he comes out and takes his death like a man, maybe Cad will spare him the indignity of the slow death Boba left him to.
Boba takes a moment, using his gauntlet to sync with his jetpack remotely, as Cad Bane approaches the wall. When Cad Bane gets close enough, Boba activates the jetpack with a short burst, catching Cad's attention as it's remotely fired towards his direction.
Taking his opportunity at the distraction, Boba lunges at Cad with the butt of the gaffi stick, hitting him in the face 2 times, throwing him off balance, then knocking his pistol out of his hand. Boba throws another hit with the stick into Cad's stomach, knocking the wind out him. He then uses the hook of the stick and cracks Cad's kneecap with it, breaking his leg, him collapsing backwards. And before Cad, blood his mouth from being hit in the face can even reach for his dropped pistol, Boba brings the spear of the gaffi stick down onto his arm, piercing it to the ground, severing his hand muscles, then swiftly stabbing the other arm.
Cad almost chuckles, telling Boba that using the jetpack as a distraction was a good one, he didn't see that coming. Boba says that he's learned from old mistakes. Cad asks him if he's going to end it this time or walk away like a coward again.
Boba brings the spear of his gaffi stick to Cad's throat, telling that he's going to do neither, he's going to show him the mercy he knows Cad hates, drawing Cad's attention to the republic patrol that's entering the city and is landing. Cad, realizing that Boba called them, tells Boba that he'll come back for him. Boba is stoic, as he says that he knows he has nothing to fear from Cad anymore, then stepping back as the republic patrol troopers come to take Cad Bane away, his bitterness festering.
Boba rushes to Mando, and tells him that they have to get to the Hutt barge outside the city, because Drash is going after them, then asking Mando if he has a ship. Mando affirms that he just so happens to.
At the spice shipping port, Fennic snipes the guards one by one in the knees. Then walking into the port, she shoots to kill the guards who won't stay down, telling the rest to get out of here it they know what's best for them. She checks the shipping crates to ensure it's the spice.
Meanwhile Drash pulls up on her speeder bike to the Hutts barge, which is settled on the sand. She uses a thermal detonator to blow open their entrance, killing their guards entering, pointing her pistol and gauntlet at the Hutts.
The Hutts other guards come at Drash from the side, but both are shot by Boba who enters the barge from behind her.
Boba tells her that the droidekas and assassins are stopped, she doesn't need to do this, the republic troopers are arresting the assassins, the Hutts can face justice, it's what she wanted. She says it won't change anything that they've done, they have to pay for what they did, to her mom, to everyone, asking him what does it matter to him if they face justice anyway.
Boba, with a moment of hesitation, steps up past Drash, in front of her pistol, between her and the Hutts, telling that if all she really wants is revenge now, to take it. She's confused.
Boba admits to her that he's the one who was put in charge of the mining while he worked for Jabba and ran point on the gathering of people as slaves for the spice mines under Jabba's orders, telling Drash that these Hutts she wants to murder weren't apart of that decision and he's more responsible than they are, stating that if anyone is responsible for her mother's death it's him.
Drash asks why he's telling her this. Boba takes off his helmet and says that it's because he was in the same place she's at, and he's realizes he's become the monster that he wanted to think the jedi who killed his dad was because he tried to prove to himself that he didn't need or care about anyone, and he thinks that no matter whether she kills the monster responsible for her mother's death or not he's afraid she'll end up the same way, and he wants to break that cycle, give her the chance he never took, to make peace with this.
Drash, in anger, points the pistol at Boba's head. Boba tells her that he's sorry for what he did to her mother.
Drash struggles with murdering him, dropping her arm, saying that she doesn't want to become him.
Taking advantage of the situation, the Hutts reach for weapons in hidden compartments and point them at Boba and Drash to kill them. But both Boba and Drash quickly redirect their blasters at them in self defense, firing, killing the Hutt twins.
Leaving the barge, Drash, the weight of everything hitting her, feels remorseful that she abandoned her friends and the people. Boba tells her that she has things to make up for and he knows what that's like. Drash gives Boba his gauntlet back, telling him that she's not going to forgive him. He tells her he understands that. She silently gets back on her speeder and heads off into town.
Boba takes a moment, closing his eyes and breathing as he holds his helmet under his arm, lifting up his head, letting the sun hit his face, paralleling when he crawled out of the sarlacc at the beginning of the season. Taking his helmet in both hands, he looks down at, paralleling what he did as a child.
Meanwhile at spice shipping port, Fennic sets charges on all the shipping crates. Stepping away from the blast radius, she blows them, watching the spice burn, feeling catharsis at it.
Afterward Fennic returns to the town, being met by Boba, as Cobb Vanth's people, the patched up gamorreans, patched up Krrsantan and Drash and some of her gang are helping the civilians of the town.
Fennic tells Boba she heard about Drash, asking if she's okay. Boba tells her that he doesn't think so, but maybe some day she will.
Fennic then asks him if he's okay. Boba replies that he's not either, but he thinks he's found a way to work with that.
Mando, having been patched up himself, walks up to Boba and tells him he's gonna be going, he's got somewhere to be. Boba asks him where that is.
Mando admits that he's been afraid of going to see Grogu because he's afraid he won't be able to leave him again, but he realized when he so close to death by that droideka that he's more afraid of what could happen if something had happened and he never showed him that he cared, so he's going to go visit him. Boba, feeling a personal connection to Mando and Grogu's situation, wishes Mando a safe journey, shaking his hand.
One of the leaders of Cobb Vanth's town walks up to Boba and as a thank you for stopping the Hutts, gives him Cobb Vanth's sheriff's badge.
Mando leaves the planet, flying off in his new ship, a remodeled Naboo N-1 starfighter.
Boba is uncertain about this, but Fennic wonders if he wants to make the badge official, saying that these people may need some help, with the Hutt's crime syndicate leaders still out there and this planet's spice mines still ripe for the picking. Krrsantan offers his assistance, as he sees it as he owes Boba a life debt now and wants to honor that. The gamorrean guards aligning themselves in loyalty to Boba. Boba decides to take on that responsibility, welding the badge onto his armor.
And we end the show there.
Post credit scene is cutting to a brief glimpse of Grogu with Luke, training.
And that's it. Last episode was so long, but there was a lot to resolve. Please review and tell me what you think!
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I don’t often write for Bo-Katan, but she’s often a joy to add to a fic. I like this bit from Way of the Mynock:
Barriss chose the targets she was particularly nervous towards first as to get them out of the way.
That is how she found herself wandering the sketchiest neighborhoods of Pindar that even the Stormtroopers did not bother patrolling. After two nights asking around, she was on the verge of giving up when she heard that telltale sound of jetpack exhaust. They had cornered her in an alley, a fine kill box.
Barriss addressed the one she sensed the strongest animosity towards her. “Lady Kryze, I am glad to finally-“
Bo-Katan took a step forward. The sickly streetlights of the alleyway caused the scratches and blaster pot marks on her beskar armor to stand out. “Get my name out of your filthy faithless mouth. Turn around. Leave the planet, and the system. Forget about us.”
She turned to address her warband.
“Wait,” Barriss interjected. “We can help you. We can assist the liberation of Mandalore.”
She spun around. “We are Owls of the Watch. We are Mandalorians! We do not ask for or need any help. Particularly form you. Ahsoka told me all about you. You broke her heart. Look at her now! Imagine where she would be if you hadn’t stabbed her in the back?”
Again, she turned to leave. Yet again, there was an urge that overtook Barriss to say something, probably the wrong thing, rather than be silent. It was like the plucking of a valachord. A note ringing though her being not to be silent and prudent.
“She’d probably be dead like the rest of them.”
Lady Kryze looked at her with impressive countenance though that T-slit helmet. She slowly rolled the shoulder nearest to Barriss, made a flick of her wrist into a fist, and a vibroblade popped out of her gauntlet.
Barriss stood defiant waiting for Bo-Katan to go for her throat, she knew these Nite Owls would only respect boldness. One of her lieutenants put a hand on her shoulder and must have conversed with her though their internal comms. Bo-Katan merely grumbled at her.
“Go to Hell.”
As one the warriors leapt into the air and doused Barriss with their jetwash, departing.
Barriss made a note to have someone else from the Organa network contact the Nite Owls in the future regarding an alliance.
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Okay, tell us about the Manda-lore
Autism moment taking over sldjsllskjs
Okay so il try to bring up a bit of everything about mandalore that i can remember off the top of my head, will use the wiki a little just for details and also spelling names lol
Early Beginnings
Mand'alore, the planet, orbited by 2 moons (concordia and an unnamed moon) was originally a lush planet with jungles, mountains and seas but was transformed into mostly a vast desert by a jedi/republic attack roughly 700 BBY (before battle of yavin)
Mandalorians were originally made up of the species, the "Taung" who were native to corruscant, fled to the Roon system after many wars waged from the "Zhell" (the other native species of corruscant, believed to be humans but not confirmed) until Mandalore the first led the taungs to the mandalore system which they named after him.
After that point the taungs began to take in other species to their culture, binding together by creed and code
Mandalorians in their history have usually sided with the Sith due to their disdain with the Jedi order, but are mostly neutral in general. Though they were not always against siding with jedi if it was mutually beneficial
In the year 1050 BBY a force sensitive mandalorian child Tarre Vizsla was taken in by the jedi order, and would eventually be a Jedi knight and create the Darksaber. After which he founded House Vizsla and would lead his people wielding his blade.
After his death, the Darksaber would be taken by the Jedi order until it was taken back by members of House Vizsla during the fall of the old republic and was used to unite mandalore, since then it's become a symbol of leadership
im not rlly sure where to go from here so lets talk about weapons and armour
Weapons and Armour
So, apart from the darksaber, mandalorians are most well known for their beskar armour, now most mandalorian armour is made of a beskar alloy, it is not entirely resistant to lightsabers but can definitely reduce the amount of damage from a blaster shot
although some mandalorians (din djarin for example) wore pure beskar armour which is capable of stopping lightsabers and being mostly immune to blaster bolts (well idk how much damage it'd cause but it just looks like its only the knockback of the shot that affects him)
now they also used a variety of weapons, il just list them here basically:
wrist rockets
whistling birds (the little tiny rockets din djarin uses)
sonic emitters
dual wielded blaster pistols
jetpack loaded missiles
along with a few other less used ones like:
crushgaunts (beskar gauntlets)
beskads (beskar sword)
im gonna stop here im tired lsjkdlkdsj, i prob went into too much detail with its early history but whateverrrr
#lexy!#ok this sounds like im just writing out the wiki but alot of this is from what i remember#just using the wiki for the dates and shit#you can tell when i switched from my phone to laptop cause i stopped capitalizing shit lskddskjlksd
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@reiignonme “ there’s certainly more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there? ” TO KORKIE / FROM OBI-WAN.
The robbed man revealed his Mandalorian weaponry with a whip cord being used to close line a goon and he used a wrist gauntlet shield to deflect others before he could drop them with his blaster shot. “ I can say the same ---- Ben!” The last word being accusatory. “ You saw me at a distance ---- but I know you.”
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Cute 😂
Part of me wonders when and how she got her helmet back, considering she last lost it on Seatos before going intergalactic.
Did she have time to go and retrieve it in the forest?
Also I find it hysterically funny that Sabine, being the Mandalorian that she is, is the most heavily armed between her, Ahsoka (two sabers), and Ezra (one) 😅
She’s got like, two WESTAR-35s, one lightsaber, and a wrist gauntlet with not just a flamethrower but also a built-in blaster.
Remember her saying this?
Yeah, Ezra is perfectly fine getting behind her lol 🤣
Ezra with the smirk🤣


Hold on tight is going to be a bumpy ride..
#star wars#ahsoka series#star wars rebels#ezra bridger#sabine wren#sabezra#ezrabine#ezra bridger x sabine wren
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The Return…Of Boba Fett's Armor! - The Mandalorian: Chapter 14 (Season 2 Episode 6)
(❤️ this scene & dialogue)
Din Djarin: (Approaching Boba & Fennec) This is all that survived…(Shows them his Beskar spear) Boba Fett: (Instantly recognizing what the spear is made of) Beskar. Din Djarin: (Nods yes) Boba Fett: I want you to take a look at something….
Boba Fett: (Raises his left gauntlet & activates its holographic data read-out display. Looking at the holographic data, which is written in Mando'a….) Boba Fett: My chain code has been encoded in this armor for 25 years. (Indicating hologram) See, this is me…Boba Fett. Boba Fett: (Points at one holographic symbol) This is my father, Jango Fett. (Looks up from the display at Din Djarin)
Din Djarin: (Considering Boba's words, observing the display Boba has just shown him & hearing the name of Mandalorian Bounty Hunter Jango Fett….) Din Djarin: (Din immediately understands why this man has claimed the Mandalorian armor he is now wearing) Your father was a foundling.
Boba Fett: Yes. (Deactivates the display) He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars. Din Djarin: Then that armor belongs to you. Boba Fett: (Nods yes) I appreciate it's return….
THIS scene confirmed SO much: *IS Jango a Mandalorian? YES! *DOES Boba read/understand Mando'a? Uh-huh! *DOES Boba Know his Mandalorian Heritage? Yup! *AFTER All of these years is Boba FINALLY shown on screen being a bad-a$$ with & without his Mandalorian Armor? HELL YES!!!
As a long-time fan of the Mando'ade/ Boba Fett/ Jango Fett/ Jaster Mereel/ True Mandalorians & a big fan of The Mandalorian, it was so satisfying to watch this episode & witness the above-referenced exchange between Din Djarin & Boba Fett.
Boba Fett IS canonically alive! It's official!
(AND this scene FINALLY shuts down all of the 'Jango Fett really wasn't a Mandalorian" osik).









#boba fett#boba fett armor#mandalorian armor#mandalorian wrist gauntlet#holographic data readout display#mando'a#mandalorians#mandalorian civil wars#jango fett#din djarin#armor chain code#chain code#foundling#the mandalorian#mandalorian jango fett#mandalorian culture#mandalorian heritage#mandalorian traditions#mandalorian lore#beskar'gam#mandalorian armor technology#mandalorian technology#mando tech#beskar#mandalorian wrist gauntlets
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Clan of Three Christmas Special 2023
Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader
Mouse Note: Happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and like this little moment for Mando and Ginger and Grogu
“What are gifts traditional for apprentices?” asked Mando.
The Armorer turned from the Forge to face him. “Why do you ask?”
“It is the anniversary of when I found Grogu and (Y/N). I want to commemorate it,” said Mando simply.
The Armorer nodded approvingly. “You have a strong bond with your Clan. That is good.” She placed her hammer down and fully focused on Mando. “So, you wish for gifts.”
“Yes,” said Mando. “I’ve given Grogu chainmail to protect him, and (Y/N) has their remade Ushti dagger. I have not had a Clan of my own or apprentices before, so I don’t know what I should give them next.”
The Armorer considered carefully. “Grogu is still quite young for more armor. Perhaps a game for him.”
Mando nodded. “He would enjoy that.” He paused. “Grogu, uh, likes the silver topper of one of the levers from my old ship. It’s a simple sphere, but he’d like that.”
The Armorer nodded. “Very well. And for (Y/N)?”
“They have a blaster and dagger, and I don’t feel comfortable arming them more,” said Mando.
“Their tendency to run into danger worries you,” said the Armorer in amusement.
Mando sighed. “Yes.”
“Then how about something to protect them?” suggested the Armorer. “A piece of armor would guard against some injuries.” She looked at the Mythosaur emblem on the wall. It reminded her that Mandalore the Great had chosen (Y/N) to guide. That was significant. “And it is time for them to start obtaining armor. They have more than earned their first piece.”
Mando brightened but kept calm. “Yes. That would be good. I’d enjoy the honor of giving (Y/N) their first bit of Mandalorian armor.”
The Armorer turned back to her tools. “What piece shall I craft?”
“A gauntlet for their wrist or forearm,” said Mando. “To protect their dominant arm while they fight.”
The Armorer nodded in approval. “This is the Way.”
“This is the Way,” said Mando.
l
“You’re supposed to throw it back to me, Grogu,” said (Y/N), hands on their hips as they looked at their brother.
Grogu babbled happily, still levitating the stone in front of him. (Y/N) rolled their eyes, lifted a hand, and pulled the stone to them. Grogu squawked indignantly.
“Relax, I’m going to toss it right back,” said (Y/N), flicking their ring and letting the rock float back to Grogu, who smiled widely upon getting to levitate it again. (Y/N) grinned but rolled their eyes. “I need practice, too.”
“You’re supposed to be resting after our last mission,” said Mando, walking up behind them and crossing his arms.
Grogu let the rock drop, and (Y/N) turned around without any embarrassment or guilt.
They shrugged. “I feel fine.”
“The last time you said that, you slept for an entire day when I finally got you to rest,” said Mando.
“That was one time, Buir,” said (Y/N).
“Ad’ika, we both know it was more than that,” said Mando.
“Okay, fine, maybe it was,” said (Y/N). “Sorry.”
“You’re not, but I’m going to accept your apology because I’m going to make you rest,” said Mando.
“Whatever you say,” said (Y/N). They noticed the little parcels he was carrying. “What’re those?”
Mando suddenly shifted, getting shyer. He still wasn’t used to being so soft, even if it was with his kids. And he wanted to do this right since it was an important moment.
“They’re gifts. For you and Grogu,” said Mando. “It’s the day that I found you two first.”
Grogu and (Y/N) were both silent.
“Is this alright?” asked Mando.
“You actually…You remember those things?” said (Y/N).
“Of course. You’re the most important parts of my life,” said Mando.
(Y/N) moved forward and hugged him tightly, and Grogu chirped and jumped up to hug him. Mando was surprised and balanced the presents before hugging them back.
“Thank you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu babbled in agreement.
“You haven’t even seen what I got you,” said Mando.
“Yeah, but you care about that. What you got us doesn’t matter,” said (Y/N).
Mando smiled beneath his helmet. “Thank you, Ad’ika.”
(Y/N) shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still want the gift, though.”
“I know,” said Mando with a light laugh. He held up the presents. “This one is yours, and this one is Grogu’s.”
Before Mando could even hand them over, the parcels levitated and flew to their recipients as the force moved for them. Grogu eagerly opened his first and babbled with a grin as he held up the silver ball.
(Y/N) smiled. “He’ll be levitating and throwing that around the whole ship.”
Mando sighed. “I know, but it makes him happy.”
(Y/N) opened theirs then, and their eyes widened as they lifted up the beskar gauntlet. “Is this Mandalorian armor?”
“You’re a Mandalorian,” said Mando simply. “And you’ve risked your life for us so many times that you have earned it, Ad’ika.”
(Y/N) grinned, closed the gauntlet around their forearm, and hugged Mando again. “Thank you so much, Buir.” They were a Mandalorian. More than that though, they were Mando’s child. And that’s what meant the most.
“Of course, Ad’ika,” said Mando, holding them close. He had his kids. That was all he needed.
Taglist:
@im-making-an-effort
@gr33n-d00dles
@alexpangender
@painstakingly-juno
@treehouse-mouse
@theurbannoodle
@pedropascalsidechick
@dmitrytherat
@dilfsaremyfavourite
#clan of three#the mandolarian#the mandolorian#the mandalorian#mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#mando x teen reader#mandolorian x reader#mando x teen!reader#x teen reader#x teen!reader#mandalorian x teen!reader#father figure#found family#star wars#star wars x reader#star wars x teen!reader#star wars x teen reader#din djarin x jedi!reader#din djarin x jedi reader#jedi reader#jedi#din djarin x reader#din x reader#din djarin#din djarin x teen!reader#din djarin x teen reader#force sensitive reader#force sensitive#x reader
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Beskar Rings
I’m not gonna do it… unless….
anyways I hate that my brain chose this as a title, bc now I’m thinking of another story this could work perfectly to and I am stressed
let’s forget how much I suck and just try to think of how cool these two sparring would actually look. And I’m a certified simp for The Armorer smacking people with her hammer.
The only sounds in the area was a mixture of heavy breathing through the vocoders of two mandalorian’s helmets, the scuff of boots across the terrain, and grunts of exertion as both good and blue dove in for attacks, almost always meeting short.
Bo Katan found a single, solid opening in The Armorer’d defense, her foot raising to plant firmly against the center of the other’s chest plate. Muscles contracted and tendons stretched as she shoved with all her might into her foot, arm raised to blood the beskar tongs that had been heading for her face.
With more grace than should have been possible, with another person’s weight pushing into them, the armorer’s hammer came swinging upwards, smashing into the beskar of Bo’s thigh plate. The clashing of both armor and tool caused a loud ring to reverberate through their makeshift arena, as well as sending the Mand’alor down to one knee.
Just as quickly, the tongs moved in tandem, attaching onto the lip of a battle scarred, blue helmet. “Do you yield?” The golden helmeted woman questioned, forcing Bo’s head up to face her as the other woman caught her breath, both hands resting against her leg, which still felt like it was vibrating from the hit.
Bo couldn’t shake her head with the tools keeping her helmet in place, so, she did the most reasonable option. “Never,” The woman spoke breathlessly , before ducking her body weight lower, forcing her helmet to de-pressurize and come off her head.
By the time The Armorer allowed her helmet to drop, Bo was already springing herself from her lower position, shoulder meeting the Beskar of the woman’s chest plate once more and bringing them both to the ground.
The two struggled then, both without external weapons (if you didn’t count Bo’s gauntlet,though she had no means to turn a weapon on the other woman with an intent to harm), relying on brute strength to come out on top. The Armorer would have won that matchup easily, if Bo hadn’t been Bible enough to wind out of every headlock her opponent attempted to put her in.
Beskar armor scraped against each other as the struggle ensued, until Bo’s knees planted firmly into The Armorer’s shoulders, hands grasping onto the other woman’s wrists and forcing them into the dirt above.
Chin to her own chest plate, looking down at the woman beneath her, the Mand’alor took just a second to catch her breath, the smallest of smirks on her own lips as she leaned forward, adding more weight into her arms, with the risk of lessening pressure on the woman’s torso. “Do you yield?”
The other woman grew quiet then, as her breathing steadied out, only Bo’s breathing filling the silence around them. “I yield.” The woman announced, voice no more than as quiet a whisper as her vocoder would allow.
Immediately, Bo’s weight shifted from her wrists, balancing back so she was sitting against The Armorer’s chest plate. As she’d moved to push herself up, however, she was stopped, by one hand on her hip, and the other against the thigh plate she’d struck before. “It looks like you are in need of a repaint,” she’d pointed out, glove running across the stripped section of beskar, leather coming away with black chips of whatever paint she’d used a long time ago.
“Perhaps,” the redhead agreed, shifting only so she was no longer sitting on the other woman’s chest, but straddling her hips in an attempt to allow the other to breathe clearer, and make some notion to indicate when, if ever, she’d want her off.
The Armorer’s hands moved along the edges of the plate of armor, body shifting just enough to seemingly stare at the piece, as Bo’s hands moved to steady herself, her left tangling in the thick fur along the woman’s shoulders, and the other to rest along her helm, fingers hooking around one of the horns that seemed to sprout like a mountain’s peak from a pool of gold.
“Come see me at the forge… and we shall, take care of your issue,” the armorer suggested, causing Bo’s focus to shift entirely away from the soft round horns, leaning back to stare into an expressionless visor. Surely she’d heard her wrong? She was just misinterpreting signals she’d wanted to hear..?
“Of course, I will be there.” Bo promised, finally pushing to her feet as gloved hands dropped from her legs, raising to take the offered assistance from the niteowl.
The entire walk back was spent in silence, as they both had to handle their own business in the face zones, between cleaning up, delegating, building, and forging. Though Bo couldn’t help but think… what would happen at the forge? Should she allow herself to hope for what that pull in her gut was expecting? Or should she go headfirst into the living waters? Live with the mythosaur until she either got herself together, or drowned? Anxiety ate away at the woman, who often found herself smoothing a hand over the stripped piece of armor, like the ghost of The Armorer’s hands would provide an answer.
#bo katan kryze#the armorer#bo katan x the armorer#nitearmor#the mandalorian#the mandalorian season 3#take off your helmet#theyre in love your honor
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sithisms:
"Theirs always more." He said with amusement. His master was dead by his hand. And more or less wound up becoming the most wanted man in the galaxy for his tainted form. No one knew except Baas and a hand full of other people. To see a man like Ulic. His apprentice become such a strong figure it made him proud. Though that woman he spent his time with was a snake. One that needed to be diligently taken care of at the right point. His grey eyes lowering as he spoke with a slight smile. Unlike Ulic who took things more seriously. Kun was the one to express excitement and joy more often than not. Pride always outweighed his focus at times. But that was where it got him to this point.
"A galaxy under our rule is almost at hand, Ulic. Everything is going according to plan. I just need to break the holocron on the padawan's. Break their spirit. And revive the sith amidst the galaxy." He spoke with pride. To overlook the Senate when he did. To pause a execution with a mere thought and then kill the supreme chancellor. He wasn't there to give a message. No. The woman he had spent his time with left him to the mercy of the jedi. He refused to let his apprentice be executed. If anything the execution was brought back to bite Baas and the chancellor in a way they didn't expect. His mandalorian army had expressed loyalty to Ulic. Then there was his army of the Massassi. What was left of the ancient sith race that held great loyalty towards him. Treating him like a God when he treated Ulic the same way. But to keep Ulic in a calm sense he casually waved his hand. Revealing the holocron with a dark smile.
"Break this..and any jedi who has its shards pierce the skin will become sith. No longer just two. But a legion. A brotherhood." He clenched his fist tightly. Before turning to face Ulic. His smile softening slightly. Weak..but..he was fundamentally his everything. Not just an apprentice. But a lover he hadn't even admitted his feelings towards. Freedon Nadd still pestering him in the back of his mind despite his spirit being destroyed.
'Weak..love is weakness. You are all you need'. But no. There was more to the sith. He was writing their rules. Coming up with the plans while Ulic spent the time plundering the galactic Senate like stealing candy from a baby. His gauntleted hand gently partaking in the side of Ulic's cheek." No more pain. Suffering. You. Me..ruling the galaxy together." He stated with a honest tone.
Little did kun know that this would be the only promise he couldn't keep..
He wasn't too sure about ruling the whole galaxy. Ulic was confident in his abilities, he was confident in his knowledge of politics, as he had extensively studied that branch of science when he was younger, as a hobby, before he'd exhausted all other hobbies and resorted to focusing on learning the ways of the force. And because of his knowledge, he knew two individuals ruling the whole galaxy was near impossible.
But Exar Kun had a way with words. A way of looking at Ulic...
He made everything feel possible.
"An order of our own." he grinned, licking his own blood off his teeth. "BETTER than the Sith order of old."
Better. Always better, because anything below perfection wouldn't be enough. It was that same need for perfection that had driven him so deep into the rabbit hole of the dark side. He wanted to understand it, yet the more he learned the more he realized he didn't understand, the deeper he dobed to seek the missing pieces of the puzzle. Who'd have thought someone who had shown such disinterest in the ways of the force for a good two decades of his life would become as he was now? Definitely not his master, or his mother, or his brother.
Again, he forced those thoughts of his old life away.
His hand moved up to his own face, wiping the blood off his nose with his wrist. Not wanting to risk staining Kun's gauntlet or robes.
Soon, he told himself. Soon, everyone would see the truth, have their eyes opened, as they had.
Little did he know that their attempt at a Sith order would meet a very similar fate to the attempts of those that had come before them. But for now, he was feeling confident, optimistic, and full of determination to see their plan through. For now, it all felt as if it was a matter of showing the Padawans the truth, of showing them the power they were being kept away from, and the rest would be each individual's own properly informed decision. The pieces would just fall into place in their favor.
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Unexpected Constellations (Part 09)
Rating: M (18+, minors get gone)
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings: (in an effort to not spoil) Canon-level violence, Mentions of blood, Mentions of death, Foul language, Sexual content, Emotionally $lutty Mando
A/N: Oh my days, finally. So actually, this scene was what inspired me to write the whole darn fic in the first place, so I really wanted to get it close to perfect (which is partially why it took so long). On top of that, I just finished my last exam of my undergraduate degree! I do not feel happy or relieved because I am insanely ill and need to get surgery before I can get a job! YAY! On a more positive note, i hope you enjoy this part and I hope my first attempt at smut is acceptable. If you reblog, I'm positive it will cure me. Comment on this post or the masterlist to get added to the taglist!
Night had fallen, and there was already blood on his gloves.
It was green, viscous, and slimy, and he wiped it carelessly on his leg before reaching for the hunter’s long-distance rifle. He wasn’t usually the type to rob a dead man, but he figured it might be of use on the rooftops.
After all, it wasn’t like its old owner was going to need it any longer.
Rising to full height, he swung the cape back over his shoulder, where it rested between the back of his cuirass and the jetpack.
By some mercy, the picturesque town had managed to maintain a sense of quiet serenity, but countless bodies were already beginning to pile up in backstreets and darkened crevices. He had landed the Crest right on the eastern border, atop the cliffs, and flown the rest of the way in. Unfortunately, the thrusters had drawn quite a bit of attention, and he had only spent about a minute on the ground before he was being engaged. He could only hope that your luck had been better.
You had spoken to him one last time before you left your suite, simply to notify him of your movement and to ask again about his time of arrival. At that point, he had just entered Cantonica’s orbit. Despite the way your voice in his ear had sent pleasant electricity down his spine, he had told you not to contact him too frequently once you were in the casino. Messing with the earpiece or communicator could draw unnecessary attention. You had agreed. Since then, the connection had been silent. He fluctuated between thinking it was a good thing and worrying impulsively.
But as he had been taking blaster bolts in the beskar, the impact hissing and expelling smoke, his thoughts were entirely elsewhere. And they all had to do with you. He felt somewhat like a young boy in hyperspace for the first time.
Din reached the beginning of the path you had scouted for him earlier, a maze of scalable slates and moonlit chasms. The night vision on his visor picked up nothing out of the ordinary, but he knew it was unlikely that he would be so lucky. The casino’s domed peak was a looming presence in the distance, and he was instantly glad for the jetpack. He wouldn’t have wanted to climb it with cables. Still, his mind wandered, constantly drawn back to you. Like a magnet.
The Armourer had done a magnificent job on your gauntlets. The Mudhorn signet was proudly imprinted on the inside of each wrist, and some long-buried part of him smiled in satisfaction at the thought of having his mark on you. Especially in such a solid, inerasable way.
She had included a few extras as well, ones he couldn’t wait to show you how to use. Weapons were an important part of the Mandalorian creed, but outside of other Children of the Watch, he had never seen someone as admiring of fine weaponry as you. He could practically see the grin on your face as you took in the additions to the inner forearms. In all honesty, he was almost a bit jealous.
What a pair the two of you would make, and everyone would know that you were with him.
That you were his.
He saw movement in his periphery seconds before the hunter advanced. The man lunged for him. Not even bothering to draw a weapon, he expertly sidestepped, using his momentum to shove the man forward, off the thin expanse of roof. His footing gave way, and with a yelp, he desperately grabbed onto the high ledge.
It seemed, despite being nowhere near the bounty itself, people just wanted to attack him. It could be the beskar, or the weapons, the idea of a Mandalorian, or just to prove to themselves that they could. Frustrating as it was, it meant that for every hunter he took down, there were less eyes on you.
Lifting the newly acquired rifle from his back, Mando took aim, blasting the man’s fingers from where they were grappling at the smooth stone. The recoil was strong, and the impact sang through his armour. It was no Amban phase-pulse rifle, but it would do for tonight. There was a crunch as he fell. He likely wasn’t dead, but he wouldn’t be in any fit shape to continue his pursuit. Good enough.
Mando continued down the path in a light-footed run, slinging the rifle over his shoulder as he went. Minutes later, after a minor crumb trail of about five other bodies and a quiet ascent onto the casino canopy, he was in position.
A warm, golden aura poured from the skylight, momentarily blinding him as he adjusted the visor’s exposure settings. Faint jazz music wafted up along with a shrill singing voice. They had paid for a Pa’lowick, clearly sparing no expense in the lavish event. He sighed softly. He had always found their voices to be too nasal. He preferred deeper tones, low melodies, vibrations he could feel through the thick steel of his armour. He realized he had never talked about music with you. He wanted to know what you liked, whether your tastes aligned with his own. Given your past, he wondered if you had even been able to experience much music. He made a mental note for later, returning his focus to the task at hand.
There were people everywhere. More than he could count. Of all species and all sizes.
He had your features saved in the helmet’s databank, and he referred to them now to help identify you in the crowd. However, after a few minutes of scanning, he realized it would be futile. From this vantage point, he could really only see the top of hundreds of heads. He’d have to find you himself.
It was a gloriously garish scene, a dizzying mix of delicate silks, sparkling jewels, polished surfaces, and gilded bodies. He wondered for a moment if you felt out of your element, before realizing that the civilized and sophisticated nature of this casino was likely more familiar to your upbringing on the Death Star.
He decided he didn’t like that idea. Your place was beside him, in the Crest, amongst metal and scum and swirling constellations. Not in this throng of fraudulent people and bloodied riches. Perhaps if he repeated it enough, he would eventually believe it.
Something solid made contact with the back of his helmet, and he heard the near inaudible click of a loaded blaster. He fought back a groan.
“Get up. Slowly.” The voice was female, raspy. He lifted both hands and, for once, did as he was told. You would have been proud.
She was a Palliduvan, barely older than an adolescent, though her slender fingers rested comfortably on the trigger. Clearly, she didn’t know how beskar worked.
“I’ve never seen a real Mandalorian before.” Well, that explained it.
He was only slightly exasperated. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
She motioned her blaster to the side, an indication for him to approach the edge of the roof. “It’s nothing personal Mando… just business.”
Just business. He allowed himself to be led to the precipice, hands behind his head as she came to stand behind him.
“Jump.”
So she was young and unwilling to kill, not a great combination for anyone in this line of work. He sighed again, louder this time, before he followed instruction.
The Mandalorian stepped off the rooftop ledge. And fell.
The jetpack thrusters ignited with full force, and he felt the sharp impact through his whole body as he shot upwards and back, executing a full flip before coming to land behind her.
And then she was trapped between him and the rifle barrel, twisting towards the skylight, struggling to no avail. Her hands dropped the blaster in favour of trying to create any sort of space between her windpipe and the weapon. He held his ground, putting pressure on her neck.
“I’m not going to kill you,” he managed to grit out. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favour.” The woman’s jerking movements became weaker, and he focused ahead, on the warm light flowing from the casino down below, anything but the way she trashed about in his hold… like a frightened animal. Finally, she began to go limp in his arms. He held on until she stumbled, and then eased her to the ground.
But his eyes never left the glass.
Because what he beheld within it was robbing him of coherent thought.
With predatory execution, Din flipped the rifle, stabilizing it over his shoulder, visor to the scope. He slid to the ground, right beside the now unconscious body of the Palliduvan girl and edged to the lip of the glass. His breastplate scraped uncomfortably across the stone. He barely noticed it.
He had become used to you aboard his ship, in dark gear stained with grease, dirt and sometimes even blood. Your behaviour had changed as you lived and travelled together, sharp edges softening, and your free laugh and casual mannerisms were now as familiar to him as the controls of the Crest.
But he saw none of what he knew in the woman below.
The sharp edges were back, and every move… every smile… every sip of the sparkling drink in your hand was refined. Calculated.
You were beautiful. Lethally so.
This was the woman who had drawn the Emperor’s attention. The woman who had come face-to-face with death and darkness and bared her teeth at it.
He was very suddenly overcome with the urge to have you. To run his hands over the delicate fabric of your dress, the soft curves and planes of your body. To trace you with his fingers… and then with his tongue. To break you apart so thoroughly that you returned to the relaxed and natural version of yourself that he recognized. That he loved.
You were speaking to a trio of Nemoidians and all he could think about was the fact that they were standing too close, that they were looking too intently. But despite being half their height, you stood with the posture and self-assuredness of a queen.
A vivid image flickered behind his eyelids. Something he had never imagined, never thought he even desired. But he is there, seated comfortably on a cold, stone throne, the thick cape and pauldrons of the Mand’alor hanging from his shoulders. And draped across his legs is you, the picture of quiet strength and fatal power. The two of you… unbreakable.
He was wound so tightly he thought he might snap.
But then your companions were turning from you and, even through the open space, through the pane of glass separating you, your eyes flickered up and landed directly on him. As if you could feel him. And he recognized the faint softening of them, the hint of a smile that showed only for a second before you schooled your features back into nonchalance. Your stare dropped from his almost immediately.
His inhale was shaky.

He was here.
Maker, he was here.
Excitement, nervousness, and something else had you flexing your fingers. In the midst of your conversation, you had sensed his presence suddenly, like a shockwave, and had sought him out right away. A faint glint of beskar was visible from where you stood, and you could just make out the outline of him, equipped with a rifle that most definitely wasn’t his. For once, the emotions from him were clear and you could read him as easily as anyone else, even with the distance… and even with the helmet in place.
But what you had expected from him was apprehension and unease. The stiffness of stress that came with being on the job, out in the open. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He was on edge, but the overpowering feeling that floated around you, through you, it was hunger… craving.
You bit down on your lip, hard. A much less sensible part of your brain considered it for a moment… just walking out right then and there. Damn the bounty. Judging by what you felt from him, you doubted he would have cared much either.
But then it tugged at you again, as it had countless times throughout the night. A light pressure in between your shoulder blades. Like a tap on the back. The crystal still beckoned to you. So you pushed the heat away, of his gaze, of the feeling now ever-present between your legs, and refocused on the target. Or, at least, you did the best you could. Smoldering lust, both his and your own, settled in your chest like the most dizzying sip of spotchka.
The red stone, barely smaller than your thumb, lay in a display case at the front of the room, along with an eclectic collection of other valuables, identifiable only by small placards at the front of each. Getting to it without drawing attention would be hard, near impossible, and you had caught many guests eyeing it throughout the night. You were not alone.
Which would have been a problem if not for the powerful pull in the opposite direction. You had scoped it out casually, while chatting with a visiting Pantoran couple. A storeroom with another exit, given that many employees had entered the door throughout the night, and not reappeared. It required a keycard to access, which had seemed to be the only snag.
But it had been all too easy to engage in conversation with one of the serving staff, him leaning over to hear you better over the loud chatter of the main room. You had taken a flute of champagne from him, as well as the card from his side. He had been too busy looking at your chest to notice.
Now, you had simply been trying to find a moment to get away. The Nemoidians had complimented your dress, as many others had throughout the night, and you had willingly launched into a glowing review. Hopefully, if the guests were left breathing by the end of the night, some of them might pay Maya’s boutique a visit.
Downing the remnants of your glass and savouring the last taste of dry sparkling, you set it upon a table and turned, weaving your way through the crowd. One thing you had learned from your time with the Mandalorian was that it was much less suspicious if you walked around like you owned the place. The steady buzz of the alcohol also seemed to make it much easier to pretend. After scanning the keycard and watching with bated breath as the light flickered green, the door slid open on smooth hinges and closed behind you soon after. The sound of music and chatter was silenced almost completely.
It was as if you had entered a different world.
The room within was dimly lit and lined with shelves. There was no glitz or glamour here, just row upon row of boxes. You had been right about the alternate exit; it remained shut against the far wall, illuminated by a halo of red from the control panel. A quick scan yielded nothing out-of-the-ordinary, but as you stopped in the center of the area you felt it again, a tap on the shoulder.
You’ve come for me.
It wasn’t a question. You whirled.
Silence. And then… Come closer.
You knew it then. The worn wooden case seemed to thrum with life from its position on the shelf in front of you. To the average eye, it would be indistinguishable from any other, but you knew better. Cautiously, almost in a daze, you approached it.
I had hoped it might be you.
There was absolutely no sense in resisting its allure. Your fingers snagged over the splinters in the lid and your hands shook slightly as you lifted it.
It was exactly as you had seen it in your dream, except somehow the veins running along its surface seemed deeper, in stark contrast with the bright scarlet of the stone.
And as you touched your fingers to it… lifted it from its bed of satin, it sighed in contentment. It felt right, and that worried you.
We are one.
It was wrong, of course. Once you got out of here, you’d chart course to Nevarro, hand it off to Karga and never have to think about it again. It seemed to chuckle at your naivete. You shook it off as best you could, going to tuck it into the tight fabric of your dress.
In that moment, the exit opened, and a human man walked in. You froze.
He noticed you almost immediately, surprise crossing his features before concern set in. “Hey. You’re not authorized to be in here.” His brow furrowed even more as he noticed the crystal in your hand. “You shouldn’t have that.”
There was no time to contemplate the morality of your actions. You had his mind in a snare within seconds, doing your best to ignore the fleeting pang of guilt.
“I’m meant to take this.” There was a slight wobble in your tone. That wouldn’t do.
You tried again. “You want me to take it.” The words were more determined this time. You, however, were not.
You watched him carefully, but his caution remained. Anxiety started to creep up your spine, into your neck. He just looked at you, unmoving.
Fingers had already reached for the dagger at your side before his face finally relaxed. “Yes, go, take it.” He nodded furiously, swinging his hand toward the door leading back to the casino. You didn’t wait for him to change his mind or break free from your control, making haste towards the entry, tucking the crystal into the fold of your dress. He muttered from behind you: “Though, I’m sure the buyer will not be very pleased.”
You were out of the storeroom before you could question that tidbit of information, the golden light so bright you had to squint as your eyes adjusted.
Legs still weak from your moment of panic, you pressed a finger to your ear and activated the communicator. The strides you took were long and fast and you ached to get out into the open air, back to the Crest… to Din.
“I’ve got it. I’m headed to you.”
You barely registered his response. As you lowered your hand and stared ahead, you made direct eye contact with a familiar face. And it wasn’t one you had wanted to see today. The Weequay from Tatooine stared back at you, hints of recognition flashing through his own features.
Shit.
He had his blaster drawn before you could even get a gulp of air down, and you just managed to duck behind one of the gambling tables before the first shot rang out.
The room descended into chaos.
There were screams from every direction, replacing the upbeat melody of the band as it ground to a halt. People rushed the front of the room, and you barely had a moment to register just how many of the guests were being paid before he was in front of you once more, weapon aimed directly at your head.
Your own name blared through the earpiece, along with a string of curses. You just had to get out of here and get to Mando. You’d figure a way out of this, as long as you were together.
Pushing out with the Force, his blaster shot went wide, and the gun flew from his grip. He didn’t miss a beat, engaging you hand-to-hand. His punches were powerful, but you had the speed and technique. More shots rang out behind you as you caught the fist he flung and twisted it until he shrieked. The injury from a few days ago was still fresh, and so you rebroke the man’s the arm in the exact same place. The pain sent him sprawling across the pristine marble tiles, but you didn’t linger long, moving through the crowd towards the large double doors.
There were bloodstains on the floor, on the tablecloths, on a scattered deck of cards. Your mind seemed to blur out the background noise, falling into an alert, violent calm as you dodged bodies and weapons.
Something blunt hit you in the side and you went down hard, the impact just barely broken by your hands. It was a Bith, or rather the body of a Bith, one of the players in the band that had hurled into you. You took in the looming figure of the man who had felled him, human, before you realized that his attention was squarely on you. On what had fallen from your dress as you tumbled. He looked again towards the front of the room, to the decoy that was caught in the midst of a bloodbath. Then back to you, headed for the exit.
He lunged and you rolled. You felt the tips of his fingers grasp at the edge of your heel, but you were pushing up, up, fighting through the weight of the unfamiliar skirts of your dress. A well-placed hook kick had him doubling over, and you used the gained time to bolt for the doors once more. Your heels slipped incessantly on the smooth marble, some areas now thick with different shades of blood, and you almost sighed in relief as they found purchase on the rough cobblestone of the street outside. People still fled in all directions, and you melded into the pandemonium. There was no time to check over your shoulder, to make sure that you were not being followed by the only hunter who knew what you carried.
You headed back towards Maya’s shop, only because you were somewhat familiar with the winding streets that surrounded it. Again, the lanes quieted the further you strayed from the casino, and you weaved, a right, a left, two rights, and doubling back on yourself. Only once you were confident you had lost your pursuer did you press your back against concrete and breathe. Fast, heaving, gasps. You pressed a hand to your forehead, slick with sweat. Blaster fire could still be heard in the distance.
It had gone so wrong, so fast. A quiet escape might have been possible, if not for the Weequay. Clearly, your mind rubbing skills still left much to be desired. But at least the plan had been a success. You felt the jagged edges of the crystal through the cloth of your bodice, just to be sure it was really there.
As if you could forget.
It still hummed to you, less words now and more sounds, perhaps akin to the purring of a lothcat. It was unnerving. A larger part of you couldn’t wait to have it as far away from you as possible.
Right.
You had to get back to the Crest. In case the two of you were separated, you had planned to meet back there.
It was going to be one hell of a walk. You debated taking the heels off. Pushing off the wall, you strode for the east end of the street.
Yes, you would be taking the heels off. They tapped against the cobblestones in a pleasing tick, all but announcing your presence to anyone who might be close by. You stooped to fuss with the buckle. The first one snapped free before a hand closed around your neck, slamming you up against the wall. You saw stars.
The human hunter stared you down, green blood splattered across his angular face, lips pulled into a tight sneer.
“Where. Is. It.” He shook you, a crazed look building in the depths of his pupils. Bloodlust. It would have been easy enough to recognize on his face, even without the pure violence that emanated from him. You had seen the Bith, the way he had felled it without a single ounce of remorse.
Finally. That part of you shrugged free of restraints as if they were wisps of cobweb. Your self control had been teetering on a dangerous edge since that night on Rishi, and if you were completely honest, holding back had done you more harm than good. Your thigh twinged as if it wished to remind you.
Besides, this wasn’t the type of man you let live. And what a relief that was.
You might have been laughing as he thrust you back into the stone again. It only fueled his ire.
“Crazy bitch,” he spat. “I’ll kill you and find it myself.” He missed the way you reached for the vibroblade beneath the silks of your skirt.
“Try it.” You hissed, before plunging the knife into his upper thigh. He roared, the hold on your neck loosening just enough.
You shouldn’t have been using the Force when you didn’t need to, but it was oh so satisfying to blow him back and feel his bones creak under the pressure of it. It was a marvel he even managed to stay upright.
Leisurely, you pushed off the wall, walking on the toes of your left foot to balance with the heel still on your right. He was too focused on prying the blade from his leg, the metal hitting the cobblestones with a clang. There was pure rage in the air. Oh, you wanted to take your time with him.
He was livid, so laser-focused on you that he didn’t think to check behind him. If he had, he might have seen the looming shadow before it struck. If he was perceptive, he may have noticed the blade that ignited at his back, may have seen the faint aura it cast on the ground and walls of the otherwise quiet street.
But all he saw was you. And as he swung forward, the heat of the darksaber broke clean through his sternum. He only managed to gasp once before it retracted, and he crumpled.
You furrowed your brow, nose crinkling as you beheld the armoured giant who stood in his place. The cloak was off-kilter, half draped over one of his shoulders.
“Show-off,” you muttered.
The saber extinguished and he returned it to its spot on his belt, leaving the Mandalorian bathed in warm lamplight. “Did I ruin your fun?” His voice was low. Your lost shoe dangled from his other hand.
Holy maker. You hadn’t considered that the distance between you earlier might have dulled what you sensed from him. But as you stood now, mere inches from the breastplate that rose and fell with heavy breaths, it curled around you like sweet-smelling smoke.
It wasn’t just that he wanted you.
It felt as if he wanted to devour you. The realization was electrifying.
You closed the gap, the earlier promise of bloodshed shifting into something arguably much more deadly. Your eyes never left the visor.
“And if I told you that you did?”
An arm came to rest lightly on your hip, and you marveled at what such a simple touch could do. “I’d find you another one.” There was no hesitation. If it was what you wanted, he would capture you another hunter, sit, and watch while you took them apart.
And what if I wanted to take you apart instead?
You pushed the edge of the cowl down, dragging a nail over the sliver of skin along his neck, over the pulse that jumped there. “I know you would.” His breath hitched and he groaned, so quietly. It may have been the most delicious sound you had ever heard.
Quite similarly to the dead man, you were so engulfed in him, his sounds, his scent, his emotions, that you barely noticed the presence down the street until it was too late.
A blaster sounded and you twisted. The bolt stopped in midair, spasming as it fought against your hold. Din had his own drawn in a split second, firing back one single shot. It struck the IG-86 unit through its central processor, and it went down with a loud clank. You pulled him by his pauldrons to the side, finally releasing the red blast. It zipped past the two of you, blowing chunks of stone off the side of the building across the street.
You couldn’t help it. A delirious laugh escaped you.
He studied you seriously. “Are you drunk?”
A large hand was splayed against the small of your back, pressing you into him in the most pleasurable way. A hard edge of protectiveness now coated the desire that was still ever-present in the small space between your bodies. So no, the intoxication you felt had absolutely nothing to do with the champagne you had consumed earlier.
All you could do was shake your head, still gasping in laughter. You weren’t sure you could trust your voice to be steady right now.
“Okay…” It sounded dubious. He didn’t move, just kept looking at you. “We need to get back to the Crest.”
Always right to business with you. Castann’s accent echoed faintly through your mind.
The pout was inevitable. The last thing you wanted to do was make the trek back to the ship right now. You wondered if he’d be opposed to just finding a quiet corner.
“I really don’t want to walk right now.” Come on, come on, go with me here.
You could have sworn you heard his grin as he replied, “Who said anything about walking?”
The press of a button had the jetpack thrusters extending. Your jaw dropped.
Absolutely not happening.
Backing away, you lifted your hands. “No, no, nope. No way.”
He didn’t let you get far, advancing like you were a scared Blurrg before he caught you around the waist. His grip was firm, the feel of his body almost making you forget why you were retreating in the first place. Damn him.
“Come on, don’t you trust me?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Sure it is.” He was relentless. “When have I ever led you astray?”
“Uh, maybe the gigantic ice spiders on Maldo Kreis? Or, how about, come on let’s go wrangle a Rancor!” Your imitation of his modulated voice was badly executed, but in the moment, you couldn’t have cared less. “I could keep going!”
The pauldrons were shaking with silent laughter. “We got out of all of those alive, didn’t we?” You inhaled sharply, fully ready to argue when the helmet dipped low, to the junction where your neck met your shoulder.
“Trust. Me. Mesh’la.” You trembled slightly in his arms.
Oh, that was extremely unfair. You exhaled in defeat.
When he drew back, you hoped your eyes still held some hint of menace. “Do not drop me, Din Djarin.”
He swept an arm under your knees before igniting the jetpack.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then you were shooting upward, leaving the rooftops far behind. On instinct alone you clung to him, face buried in the scratchy fabric around his neck. Wind ripped at your dress.
He might have been laughing. You couldn’t be sure over the roaring in your ears.
But his glove was pressing against the skin behind your knees and the vibration of his voice radiated through his armour, all around you.
“You really don’t want to miss this view.”
It was terribly dangerous. Not the flying… not the height… no. The fact that he knew you’d do practically anything he asked, as long as it was delivered with a low voice and ghosting touches. And you could tell that he knew it too. Asshole.
You had to squint against the wind as you turned away from him. Arms curled tighter around you frame as you shifted you weight. But maker… he was right.
The lamplight twinkled down below like the warmest stars. And beyond it… Your breath caught.
The sea, accented with choppy whitecaps, lapped up against a sandy shore, and the moonlight cast a bright track across its surface. Just ahead, a sharp cliff face jutted towards the water. You could just barely make out the tall grasses that swung in the night’s breeze. Beneath you, the lux of the town was a stunning vista, the absolute portrait of wealth and class. That is, if you looked past the occasional sharp flash of blasterfire.
It was mesmerizing.
“See… not so bad right?”
You cut him a snarky glare. If you weren’t so terrified of loosening your grip so high up in the air, you might have smacked him on the shoulder.
But then his arms slackened, and you catapulted downward. The air was ripped right from your lungs before he banked and pulled up sharply. Somehow you still managed to yelp, hiding blindly in his cowl.
He was laughing in earnest now, and if you had been able to look past your moment of panic, you would have dwelled for longer upon how genuinely beautiful the sound was.
Instead, you hissed, “Djarin, I am going to kill you when we land.” You managed to drag your face towards the view once more, if only because, despite your anger, the masculine scent of him was making your thoughts travel down more explicit avenues.
Somehow, the hand on your knees had managed to travel up towards your thigh, curling around the inside. He squeezed once. “Can’t wait.” Farrik.
Finally, the cliffs rose to meet you, succeeding in lessening your perturbation only slightly. He skimmed lower to the ground and, had you been brave enough to let go of him for more than a moment, you might have been able to brush your hand through the wispy stalks of grass.
The ramp lights of the Crest were just starting to become visible, and it struck a chord in your chest. It felt like home. And despite only being away for a night, you found you missed the telltale ticks and clunks of the old ship, the interspersed beeping of its processes, even the lumpy uncomfortable mess of blankets atop a wiry cot that had become your bed.
Waking up to the smell of caf—the way Din would wordlessly hand you the cup as soon as you entered the flight deck in the morning. Both of you so familiar with each other that he knew to wait until you had a few sips before launching into the day’s events.
Dragging bounties back into the hull, bodies sore and aching.
Falling asleep in the jumpseat as he flew, waking hours later to find your bones actually hurt even more than before.
Playing with Grogu, the child having figured out all of the Crest’s good hiding places. Din had initially advised against letting the kid worm his way into small crevices, but it turned out to be a good way of finding where the ship had loose bolts.
Tucking him into his floating cradle at the end of each day, and seeing the adoration in his depthless eyes, even with the lack of light in the hull.
It dawned on you that most of what you considered to be ‘home’ wasn’t tied to the place itself, but rather to the people you shared it with. As if that were surprising in the slightest.
The thrusters puttered out and Din landed lightly on his toes, swinging you down so you could stand. You didn’t move to distance yourself from him.
You were staring, and there was absolutely no effort to hide it. His stance grew slightly awkward, as it so often did under your close scrutiny. You loved that about him.
“What?” He seemed sheepish.
You were smiling wide. “Nothing.”
“I thought you made some sort of comment about killing me when we landed?”
You laughed breathlessly. His arms seemed to tighten around you in response. The breastplate rose and fell. You matched his rhythm.
“I like that.” He seemed to sigh.
“Like what?”
“When you laugh.”
You cocked your head at him. “I laugh all the time.”
“I like it when you laugh because of me.” It was far from the declaration he so desperately wanted to give, but you melted at the way he bared a bit of himself to you.
“I’m not going to kill you.” He huffed in response. You traced the emblem in the center of his armour. “I still need someone to fly us out of here.”
“Anything to worm your way out from under the controls.”
You had planned a perfectly sarcastic comeback, but it was abruptly cut short as blaring lights cut over the face of the cliff.
He twisted you towards the ramp, pushing you ahead of him. “Police. We’ve got to go.”
“What? Why are they after us?” You made it into the hull, and he followed close behind, the door already retracting in your wake. “They can’t possibly know—”
He cut you off. “Honestly, it’s probably parking enforcement. But I don’t want to stick around and find out.”
Nevertheless, he took a second to help you up the ladder to the cockpit, the simple sliding of fingers enough to rekindle that fire between you.
He jerked away, twisting, and busying himself with the buttons and switches, as if the touch had stung. You couldn’t help but smile at it, taking your respective seat to his right.
Din had layers to him, you had noticed. Especially when it came to intimacy between you. The first was feigned indifference which, naively, you had taken as the truth for much of your time together. Months ago, you would have perceived him pulling away as such, but you knew him better now. Megaphones blared from outside the ship, but you barely noticed them.
“You are on private property. Please relinquish your craft, or we will shoot it down.”
You were zeroed in on the way his hands manipulated the controls, the deftness of each press, flick, pull. The roar of the engines was music to your ears.
Past that top layer lay the confidence and assertiveness of a hunter. The burning hot desire communicated clearly through the press of his body in all the right places. You had seen that firsthand when he had you up against the wall on Rishi, and again in the hull of the Crest. And you felt it, maker, you still did feel it radiating like tangible heat from his mind.
You crossed your legs, just to relieve some of the ache as the ship rose from the ground, the grass blasted back in its wake.
“I repeat, please relinquish your craft, This is your last warning.”
He flexed his hand once before resting it on the lever.
But beyond it was what you loved most. For when you reciprocated that desire and touched him in the ways you so desperately wanted to, you could easily sense it. The bashfulness, a shy temperament. Somehow, you knew his cheeks would have a pleasant rosy tint to them. There was something so precious about it, the fact that you could bring a blush to the deadly creature in front of you. Oh but you wondered what would lie beneath that layer.
“Hold on.” It was the only warning he gave before the ship shot forward, the force pressing your spine into the worn leather of the seat.
And he was magnificent when he flew.
The ship skimmed low to the ground, the sound of stun blasts striking just out of range.
And then the ground dropped out from beneath you. Mando sent the Crest into a freefall, your stomach flying into your throat. But when you squealed this time, it was in delight.
Stars, you loved this ship. Almost as much as its pilot.
His fingers pulsed against the centre stick, and you watched as the choppy ocean water loomed closer and closer. In typical fashion, he waited until the very last moment to pull up, metal creaking with the effort. Some small part of you wondered if he was showing off… maybe just a little.
It took a few moments, but eventually the police speeders fell back, accepting the fact that the Crest was much too rapid to pursue. And so you flew, faster than the wind itself, across the glass surface and up… up past the white puffs of cloud, illuminated with eerie, cold moonlight, and back into the stars.
He slowed slightly, only to punch the coordinates of Nevarro into the navicomputer. As the ship shot forward into the comforting embrace of hyperspace, you saw him visibly relax.
You, however, were still out of breath, almost giggling.
He turned to face you, punching the autopilot button and relinquishing control of the ship. “Hi.”
“Hi.” you repeated. Your mouth had widened into a broad, silly grin.
A moment of silence passed as he seemed to take you in, discernable only by the slight trailing of the visor down your frame.
“You look…”
You stood animatedly from the jumpseat, executing a graceful three-sixty spin to show off the dress. The fabric brushed against the steel floor with a hiss and you twisted, dizzy from both the movement and the overpowering sense of being alone with him. Finally. You felt as if there was golden glitter behind your eyelids.
Despite your excitement, when you came to face him again, the muddled emotions you usually sensed from him were back, serious… almost somber. Your smile faltered. For a beat, there was no sound beyond the beeping of the Crest, and the low hum of the engines, the whisper of the stars.
Had you missed something? Misread the situation? Was he injured? Oh maker, if he had gotten hurt and you hadn’t even realized because you were so distracted by—
“Come here.”
His voice was lethally soft, and you broke out in goosebumps at the simple sound of it. Albeit slowly… carefully, your body obeyed of its own accord.
Ah, there it was. You were getting better at reading him. Din’s mind was a stage, used to putting up a front, a performance. But if you were to lightly push back on the velvet curtain…
A molten volcano lay behind it.
He parted for you, and you stepped into his space, hands finding his shoulders as his own came to rest on the back of your legs. Through the thin fabric, it felt as if there was nothing separating you at all.
For once, he had to angle his head up to look at you. You liked how it made you feel. The last few hours had been chaotic and dangerous, and you knew you’d be absolutely exhausted tomorrow. But for now, there was adrenaline coursing through your veins and all you could think about was how you wanted more… more of this… more of him.
Using his shoulders to stabilize yourself, you sat sideways across his lap. His arms came up to cradle you, but he said nothing for a long moment. It made you nervous.
“Is this okay?”
Since that evening on Rishi, you had been toeing a line, testing boundaries, never quite setting foot beyond what had happened then. This was all new territory for you, especially with him, and you had never been so afraid to mess things up.
“No…,” he replied.
No.
You stood abruptly, suddenly unsure of what to do with your hands. “I’m sorry, I—"
But he was up just as fast, reaching for you as he was afraid you might bolt. “No, I just… Please.” You had never heard him sound so… desperate.
“Please what?”
He guided you in a circle, until you were sat in his seat, back facing the window. It was still warm from the heat of him. “Please just… let me.”
You needed clarification… needed it so badly, but he simply knelt in front of you, took off his gloves, as he had done so many times.
You were reminded of the fact that you only wore one heel when he reached for the strap at your ankle, calloused fingers brushing ever so gently at the skin there. You were rendered immobile by the softness of the movement, so at odds with the red-hot emotions that burned around the edges of the room.
It came free and he slid it off with preternatural stillness. You could barely take it anymore, the quiet, the holding back.
“Din.” He looked at you, as if jolted out of a trance. Just out of reach.
For the millionth time you tried to move beyond the opaque darkness of the visor, to see a glimpse of what lay behind it. “You’re not going to scare me away.”
He didn’t reply. But you could feel him, contemplating, weighing his options… and the consequences of each. Your calf was tingling where his fingertips still connected with bare skin.
Maker, you were tired of waiting. It was a sharp movement, the way you leaned forward in the captain’s chair and grasped him, hands nestling in the indents on each side of the helmet.
“I want this.” The whirling stars reflected in the glossy surface of his armour. He was breathing deeply, and you might have matched his inhales to your own. “I want you.”
Wide, tan hands curled over your own. And then he was standing, pulling him with you, ever so gently. Nothing from him, absolutely nothing. No conflict, no warring emotions, no confusion. Just quiet.
“Close your eyes.”
You did so immediately, still drawing warmth from the feeling of his hands against your own.
Don’t you trust me?
His words from earlier came floating back on a phantom wind. The answer, of course, was yes. Undoubtedly. Always. With anything. With your life… with your heart.
You almost whined when you sensed the distance he put between you. When his callouses slid against your palms. The cockpit door opened… and closed. It was silent for a long moment.
Quietly hyperventilating, you were rooted in place, staring into the endless darkness behind your eyelids. Nervousness trailed fingers up your spine and dug nails into your palms. You were so sure of this, sure of him, but there were aspects you hadn’t yet considered.
Was this the right choice? Would it ruin the way things had been between you? What if, after seeing you… all of you, he decided there was something he didn’t like? What if he tired of you? What if you simply weren’t enough?
The door slid open sharply and you couldn’t help but jump at the sudden sound. Your entire body was buzzing, fear, adrenaline, desire.
Boot soles against durasteel brought you back to the present. You could sense him mere paces away. Why wouldn’t he come closer?
You were wracked with a moment of self-consciousness, becoming hyperaware of the dress you wore, the way the circulated air brushed against your neck, arms, legs.
“So beautiful.” Din’s voice was husky in a way you had never heard before and instantly everything melted away. You may as well have been a puddle at his feet.
You felt him first against the backs of your hands, trailing up your arms to your shoulders, leaving goosebumps behind. He spun you slowly, so your back was resting against his breastplate. Starlight bled through your lids, creating the most pleasant kaleidoscope of colour.
Confusion bled into bliss as he curled a hand around your neck, tugging back just slightly, careful to avoid the places that will still tender from when you were attacked. Always gentle. But then there was movement, a rustling, and something scratchy settled over your eyes, blocking out the aura of hyperspace. A blindfold. He tied it off with surprisingly nimble fingers at the back of your head.
You couldn’t help but exhale a light laugh. “You don’t trust me?”
But any humour evaporated into nothingness as you heard the faint hiss of a disengaged helmet. And a breath. A real, unmodulated breath.
Maker, save you.
The first press of his lips against your neck absolutely undid you. They were soft, warm. You were barely holding yourself up anymore, pressed up against him, neck lolling back. Din’s deep voice traced the shell of your ear.
“I trust you mesh’la.” A hand splayed low on your stomach and travelled across to your waist. You could feel the ammunition on his belt digging into your spine. “But what I’m about to do might make you lose control a little…” He kissed you again, in the hollow of your collarbone. “…and I can’t take any chances.”
You might have exploded right then and there, in his arms. If you had, he likely would have pieced you together with open-mouthed kisses, back up the side of your neck and along the edge of your jaw. He would have spun you back to face him before finally giving you what you wanted.
Wait… perhaps you had exploded. Perhaps you were dead, all over the floor of the cockpit. Perhaps this was heaven. It sure felt like it, the way he claimed you like you were made for him.
You moaned into his mouth, an absolutely pitiful sound and he answered it with his own, feral and animalistic. You weren’t able to see him, but stars, you could feel him. The bridge of an angular nose, rough stubble under your fingertips and as you dragged your hands upwards…
You laughed into the kiss, and he finally tore himself away. You were both out of breath.
“What?” he asked. Oh, he sounded flustered. Good.
You tugged on his hair for emphasis. “Curls… I knew it.”
And then he was laughing along with you, and without the helmet… it was magical.
But he was wearing so much, and you were wearing so little. You couldn’t tell if you loved it or hated it.

There was no guilt. Not a second of it as he blurred the lines of the creed he had remained loyal to for as long as he could remember. It was worth it. For even a second of this, it was worth it.
Din kissed you like he had always yearned to. This time hard, with no restraint. And you matched him, beat for beat, hands fisted in his hair. A livewire in his arms. Firm pulls on the unruly curls sent shivers down his neck and when you bit down lightly on his bottom lip, he twitched.
He was already painfully hard, straining uncomfortably against the fabric of his trousers. All the sexual experiences he had in the past were in pursuit of his own pleasure, transactional, simple. This was anything but.
The little sounds you made drove him crazy, sending jolts of pleasure through him as if you had actually touched him, grasped him through the rough weave of his flight suit. There was nothing he wanted more than to keep drawing those moans from you, to know that you were incoherent, past the point of words, because of him.
But when you reached for the buckle on his weapons belt, determinedly pulling on the strap to free it, his brain went completely fuzzy. How many times had he dreamed of this, imagined the way you would feel against him, over top of him, underneath him, around him. Somehow it was better… so much better than anything he might have conjured up in his mind.
When you pulled away this time, he relished in the way you gasped for breath, lips parted, slightly swollen. You were tugging at him, skin positively feverish, and murmuring. “Please.”
He stole your words from earlier. “Please what?... What do you want?”
“Something. Anything. Just touch me… please.”
He was going to go insane.
Din eased you back into the pilot’s chair and you went willingly, leaning into the worn leather. He had to stop for a moment, just to look at you, resplendent in silver and black. His seat might as well have been your throne. It was then that he noticed it, the delicate whorls of dark grey that adorned the silky fabric. He studied a piece of your skirt, running the fabric through his fingers… and smiled.
You were impatient, grasping at air while he stood just out of your reach. “Come back.” But he dropped to his knees instead.
In the moment he knew that this was it for him… you were it, and he wanted to do it all right. Take it slow. Worship you thoroughly, the way you deserved.
He grasped at your ankle first, the fabric sliding as he pressed a kiss to the inside of it. The armrest groaned under your nails; it was music to his ears. “Tell me if it’s too much…” He travelled upward with his lips, to your calf, eyes never leaving your face. “…or if you want me to stop.”
He reached the inside of your knee, and you were already panting. The fact that he had this effect on you… it was everything. His lips trailed up to your thigh next, the skirt parting even further to reveal the sheath tied there. It bore only one dagger now, the rusted one from Sorgan. Din had retrieved the vibroblade from the cobblestones in Canto Bight, though you seemed to have forgotten that you lost it. Could he blame you? You were more than a little distracted.
It was impossible to stop from smirking against your skin as he found the clasp for it, popping it free and carefully unwinding the leather from around your leg. He had some unholy ideas for how to use your knives… but now wasn’t the time for it.
You were bared to him now, legs spread wide, and he thought he might pass out at the sight of it. But when he reached for the waistband of your underwear you tensed, inhales growing sharp. Din paused.
You may have been able to use your mind tricks to read him, but Din had needed to become well versed in your behaviour and body language to be able to gauge your own emotions. And now he recognized your reaction for what it really was. You were nervous. He loved that too.
But you had absolutely no reason to be… not around him. He ghosted his lips over your hip. He’d tell you. He’d show you.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this?”
“How long?” The question hadn’t exactly been rhetorical, but he hadn’t expected you to actually ask. Nevertheless, he gave the absolute truth.
“Since the day I met you.” You huffed and he felt you relax again, a wry smile painting your lips.
So he continued. “Since you fought beside me.” He tugged lightly on the elastic again, and this time, you lifted your hips for him.
“Since you asked to stay with me.”
You were so wet he thought he was going to die. All this time… all these months when you had tiptoed around each other, he could have had you up against the wall of the Crest, on the storage room floor, over the flight deck dashboard, on the ladder, in the fresher, on the cot.
Fuck, he was an idiot.
But he had you now, and he intended to make every second worth it.
He kissed you at your apex, eyes always on your face, and you shivered, pressing your lips together in a tight line.
Din could tell you were holding back, and as he bit down lightly on the flesh of your thigh, just shy of where you wanted him most, you clapped a hand over your mouth to smother the sound of your moan. He paused once more to reach up and pry your fingers away, whispered your name.
“Don’t. I want to hear you.”
He left your fingers intertwined against the armrest, because he wanted to feel the way you would clutch him when he kissed you…
There.
“Holy shit, Din.” You back bowed off the chair, and he had to place his other palm against your abdomen to keep you in place as he continued. Something about the way you said his name sent waves of pleasure through him, the seam of his pants adding friction to his already aching erection.
He ate like a man starved, feeding greedily on your gasps and moans and the way you tightened your hand under his own. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of you against his tongue and he wondered for a moment how—now that you were past the point of no return—he would ever get himself to stop.
Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he looked up through his lashes at you again, and almost came at the sight before him.
Your head was leaned back against the headrest and your lips were parted, chest rising and falling at uneven intervals. But you had started to roll your hips against him, seeking more pressure, more pleasure. He chuckled lightly, the vibrations making you sigh.
He’d always give you what you wanted.
Detangling your fingers was a herculean effort. With his freed hand, he hitched your leg up over his shoulder, and it rested comfortably between the cowl and his pauldron. Just like he had imagined.
He teased you for a bit… as if you even needed it. Truthfully, he enjoyed it, revelled in it, his control… your reactions. But when he finally slid a finger into you, he felt the way you tensed around him. His eyes almost rolled back at the sensation. But this was all about you.
Slowly. He would have to take it very slowly.
“You still with me, cyare?” The Mando’a name flowed easily off his tongue. “You have to tell me how it feels.”
He moved just enough, curling his finger, and feeling you relax, a fraction, little by little. You were gripping at the armrests with both hands, loosing the most erotic little noises he had ever heard. He could get high off them, he thought.
“Keep going. Fuck, keep going.” Another jolt of ecstasy speared through him at the low sound of your voice, travelling straight to his cock, and he hadn’t realised just how close he was.
Just from this. Just from touching you, tasting you.
Din obliged your request and wondered whether he would even last a second once he was buried in you. Stars, the way you clenched around him… it was dangerous to imagine what it would feel like.
He fucked you with his hand, slow and lazy, brushing his thumb in circles around the place that had you cursing like a pirate.
Time may have melded together like that, out between the stars. It felt surreal that this was happening, after he had pined for you for so long. Real, not a dream. He repeated it in the back of his brain, afraid that if he stopped, if he forgot, he might wake up alone in his pile of blankets in the hull.
But he was finally convinced when you choked on his name, the sound urgent and desperate. Your back arched off the seat, and on instinct alone, he circled your waist to steady you.
“That’s it… I’ve got you.”
You were half gasping, half whimpering through your orgasm. He held you through it all, as your body trembled through the come down, and as his own did too.
For a moment, your forehead found his, and you drank each other’s gasping breaths. He watched you, secretly, the entire time.
And when your hands reached for him greedily, he intercepted them by the wrists. “I don’t want to go to fast.” In all honesty, he was too embarrassed to tell you that he came in his pants just from listening to you moan.
You pulled back, but he didn’t let you get far, cradling your jaw. You leaned into the touch. “I’m going to take my time with you.” That, however, was the absolute truth.
The sounds of the Crest came bleeding back in. He felt something rise up inside of him, an unstoppable force.
Those three words. He still wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear them. It took the strength of a Bantha to push them back down.
Soon… soon he would tell you.

You were still partially in shock by the time you had finished in the fresher and made your way back up to the flight deck.
Yes, you had imagined it—more times than you would care to admit—but you never thought that it would be like that.
You were already aching for him again. How in the hell were you supposed to get anything productive done when any time you looked at him you would remember how his mouth had felt on you, how he had masterfully worked you through your release.
So screwed.
Voices filtered through the cockpit door as you made your way up the ladder and, still feeling shy, you pressed your ear to the door instead of entering.
The Mandalorian spoke in a low tone. “I’ve secured the bounty. I’m on route to Nevarro now.”
Karga’s enthusiastic voice was unmistakable. “Mando! See, I just knew you would be the one to do it.” There was a pause before he continued. “But you know, there’s a hunter from Corellia who claims he has it too.”
“Have I ever lied to you before?” That darkness, the kind he reserved for his work, sent a thrill back up your spine.
Karga laughed, the sound interspersed with static. “Well of course not! I just thought I’d let you know. Besides, word is you had help from someone… a partner, perhaps?”
Shit. Someone must have seen you together and reported it back.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, no! Your business is your business. But you know, Mando…
I think it’s about time I meet her.”
Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @aavengingbucky @prismaticpizza @blub-senpai @a-phan-of-youtube @jaguarthecat @lizajane3 @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @graciexmarvel @soobinsrose @simply-maggie @alwaysdjarin @minky77 @tinytinturtle @tae27 @groguspicklejar
#the mandalorian#sw the mandalorian#din djarin#sw fanfic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#the mandalorian x you#mando x you#the mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian series#the mandalorian fic#the mandalorian smut#din djarin smut#din djarin imagine#the mandalorian imagine#din djarin fic#the mandalorian fanfiction#my fic#jreadswrites#unexpected constellations
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Staring Respectfully
Tags/Warnings: Injured Din, you play doctor, staring at semi-shirtless Din (respectfully), reader is bashful, Din is sassy, kinda smug. SFW~
A/N: i’m not too great at writing dialogue or writing in general so go easy on me. It’s been a while since I last wrote something and was bored, so here you go! I’ll probably end up writing something Boba Fett related as well since he too has me hooked.😅
Another A/N: Had to edit a segment in the story cause it was glitched. 😪
Word count: 1326
In times like these make you wonder how often it is when a job causes someone to get hurt and you have to take matters into your own hands; very often. You see, during another run-of-the-mill bounty mission, the quarry got Din pretty good on the arm with a knife before Din had his chance to get rid of the weapon and subdue the target. All things considered, it was a successful catch, and the quarry was able to be carbonated. But with that out of the way, all that was left now was a wounded bounty hunter in need of medical attention.
He was quite reluctant to let you tend to his wounded arm as he pulled his arm in the opposite direction. "Can you stop pulling away from me? It's not going to fix itself." You were frowning as Din turns to you slightly, his gloved hand still clasped over his injured arm.
"I'm fine. I can handle it myself. I don’t need your help." You didn’t help but roll your eyes at his stubborn behavior - Typical of the Mandolorian. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before. Look, it would be much easier if I patched you up, instead.”
Din shook his head and started to walk away from you. “No thanks.” You quickly grabbed hold of his wrist, causing him to whip his head around and “stare” at you through his visor. You couldn’t tell if he mad dogging you or simply surprised how quick you were to act. Regardless, you didn’t care how he took to it. That arm needed to be looked at.
"You can try to fight me off, but I'm not gonna’ let you off the hook until I can patch up that wound. Got it?" Even though there was no way you’d go toe to toe with him in actual combat and come out as victor, your stern and authoritative tone made him question his next move and by the looks of his situation, he wasn't talking his way out of this. He simply wasn't used to having anyone help him with such things, even for a knife wound such as the slash on his arm. Perhaps, it wouldn’t hurt to have some help every now and then. Nothing is more of a hassle than to try and stitch your own wounds.
His modulated voice produced a defeated sigh. Instantly, you knew you'd won the battle. "Fine. As long as you know what you’re doing." You sent him a smug smile, signing with your index finger as you led him to the cot. Once there, you turned towards Din, guiding him closer to the bed before pressing down lightly on his shoulders for him to sit.
The Mandalorian huffed as you went to grab the first aid kit. "Oh, quit your humming and hawing, will ya'?! It’s not that bad. Besides, you’ll thank me in the end," you assured along with your lecture, the urge to slap him on the wrist hadn't looked ever so appealing up until now. You sat down next to him opening the box filled with medical supplies. “It’s too bad that healing tool we had broke, so this is all we have to work with, for now.” Upon grabbing the gauze, bandages and a needle 'n' thread, you focused on the task at hand.
But there was only one slight problem that made your cheeks blush.
"Umm, you're going to have to remove the armor and lift your shirt up." Din snapped his head, the visor pointing straight at you, practically startling you from his quick movement. Any mere mention of removing armor sends him into alert mode and who can really blame him? People have tried numerous times to remove his helmet, it became a constant thorn in his side.
Nonetheless, you realized what you said to trigger his reaction. "I-I mean your chest piece and gauntlet, if I may clarify," you laughed awkwardly as you hoped you didn’t give Din a sour taste in his mouth. There was a brief pause between you two. “Alright,” said Din almost reluctantly as he started to undo his chest piece. It was a lengthy process. You tried to help him, but he stopped you from doing so, which made it all the more awkward. Thank the force, patience was on your side.
Once the chest armor was removed, he followed up by working to get his gauntlet and gloves off. Once that was finished, now all he had to do was lift up his shirt along with the sleeve so you could work your magic. But for some reason, it had you anxious. You never saw Din with no gloves- much less, his shirt. You freaked out (internally) more so about the fact that he was basically going to remove his shirt for you.
Din pinched the bottom of his shirt, slipping it up and over the left arm as it not only revealed his nasty looking wound, but the lean body underneath. Instantly, your cheeks turned red, and you could’ve sworn the room got hotter. You didn’t realize Din asked you a question, looking right at you as you were ogling at his torso.
“What are you looking at?” His voice snapped you out of your trance, you blinked your eyes too many times to count and shook your head briefly. “O-ohh n-nothing. Nothing at all. I was just making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere else,” you chuckled awkwardly as your voice failed to keep a consistent octave level. You might as well have said ‘Ohh! I was just ogling at your ruggedly beautiful body!’ Hmph!
Din didn’t say anything apart from giving you a simple head gesture. You nodded back as you picked up your supplies again, breaking the packages open that contained the contents you needed and began tending to his wound.
While you were cleaning the cut, you used every bit of your willpower to not stare or even glance at his form. You need to focus on his arm. Focus. Focus. Focus! The more you demanded yourself to station your attention on his arm, the less compliant your eyes became. Every now and then, you’d steal a quick look-see at his chest area. Your eyes were quite consistent with their betrayal as they’d rather stay glued, tracing each individual scar adorning his broad frame.
You didn’t notice you were biting your lip the whole way through. The room was oddly silent, a bit too silent even for the Mandalorian’s liking, but when he turned to glance at you, the uncomfortable amount of fixation on his body had risen quite a few questions. Though, probably for your sake- and his, he stayed silent on the matter. Finally, you managed to get through your own little conundrum and patched up his arm.
“Alright, there! Now, all you have to do is take it easy on that arm and it should heal in a week or so,” you chirped as you stuffed the supplies back into the med kit, and made your way back to the bathroom, restoring it back in its rightful place. You returned to see the Mandalorian carefully redress himself before reequipping his armor. Still, the images of his nearly shirtless form clouded your thoughts as you tried to push them away. “You should probably rest so you don’t reopen your stitches.”
“I’ll try not to,” Din sighed as he went to stand, ignoring the pinching sensation in his arm. “I appreciate it.” You politely smiled back as you crossed your arms to yourself with a nod. It was fine and dandy until Din broke the silence with a more or less telling remark. “Just try not to stare next time.” If only you could see yourself turn a thousand shades of dark red. Despite being in the privacy of his helmet, a hint of knowing smirk was there as he exited the lower level of the ship and into the cockpit, leaving a bashful and embarrassed you, all alone to contemplate your life.
#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#star wars#star wars mandalorian#star wars oneshot#sfw#edited
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Watch those wrist rockets! It's Mando Monday again! I'm actually working on repairing my Mandalorian gauntlets, specifically the left gauntlet. I fixed the wrist rocket a few days ago but now, I gotta glue the gauntlet back together. Nothing that a few drops of Loctite Super Glue can't fix.

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Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]
ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 5: The Covert ✩࿐ ˚.✧
Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.
Word Count: 2300>
Warnings: possessive!Din, manhandling, discussions of an arranged marriage, food mention
Series Masterlist
You’d made yourself feel welcome on Nevarro. It was a beautiful day and you made the effort to speak to some of the locals. You even spotted a vendor selling sourberries, so it was a shame that you had no credits on you to make a purchase of the craved food. Grogu was having the time of his life too. He stayed close to you for the most part, but he did take you to a small green water pond so he could eat the frogs when you weren’t looking.
As you adjusted your cloak, you noticed, on the other side of the pond, a group of stormtroopers. There were about five or six of them, standing in a circle and making brief glances back to you and the child. It was enough to make you uncomfortable, that’s for sure. Din wouldn’t have taken you to another Imperial ruled planet. That would have been ridiculously unsafe -- so, why were they there? Maybe you were wrong to leave the ship. Maybe you should head back now.
“Hey kid,” you cooed quietly, reaching out to grab Grogu and hold him in your arms. “We better head back now.”
“Leaving so soon?” A stormtrooper asked, the second you swivelled around on your heel. He was just inches away from your face, so much so, you thought you could see his eyes through the visor of his white Imperial helmet. “We have eyes on the princess.” he announced through a comlink, and your eyes went comically wide upon realising the trouble you had got yourself in.
“Oh no,” you mumbled, your gaze snapping towards the stormtroopers on the other side of the pond, who were now making their way across the shallow waters.If you didn’t make your move now, you’d be surrounded in a matter of seconds. You slowly began to back away, clutching Grogu to your chest for dear life. “Uhm…” you could always negotiate. That was a skill of yours. You just didn’t know how well it would be utilizing in front of half a dozen stormtroopers. “Boys…”
And within a blink, each stormtrooper fell to the floor, one by one, their bodies crashing down with a thud. One even fell into the pond. You felt your entire body stiffen up, your heart rate picking up speed. You spun around again, ready to bolt back into the village and towards the ship, when you went crashing into a beskar chest plate. “Ow!” you cried, rubbing your nose as you pulled away from… Din. Kriff.
You looked up at him, feeling completely and utterly exasperated, and you offered the Mandalorian a weak smile. “I can explain…” you wheezed. “But how did you-- how did you--”
“Whistling birds.” Din replied, his voice having dropped an octave. Even through the modulator he sounded terrifying. You knew what whistling birds were, remembering that your aunt Bo-Katan trusted them deeply. He tapped a few buttons on his wrist gauntlet before grabbing your arm and tugging you away from the backwater pond. His grip on you was tight, and firm, and you swore that he had more strength in his hand than you did your entire body. And you weren’t necessarily weak, you didn’t necessarily have a low muscle mass, it was just the Mandalorian was so hench. That much was clear when you noticed how thick his biceps were or how broad his shoulders were, or the way his muscles flexed in his calves with every step he took. You shouldn’t have noticed these things about him, but the fact is, you had, and it sent you into a frenzy.
Maker, he wasn’t hurting you, but he was absolutely manhandling you, dragging you across the grassy sludge as if you were incapable of walking yourself. “Din-- get off!” You growled, trying to tug your arm out of his grip.
Without hesitation he paused in his footsteps and pulled out a small counter device before flicking the switch and turning it on. Low and behold, a hologram image appeared of you. “What is-- what is that?” you questioned, not liking the look of it at all.
“Bounty puck.” he answered matter-of-factly, before turning it back off and sliding it into his pocket.
“I have a bounty on me?” You asked, your voice going a little too high pitched for comfort. Was that a dumb question?
“Yeah.” Din replied back, in a familiar low modulated grumble, his gloved fingers digging into your skin. “Not just any bounty, an Imperial bounty. You’re lucky I found you before some other hunter got their hands on you.”
“Yeah, I feel very lucky.” you rolled your eyes, your tone of voice dripping with sarcasm. And oh Maker-- Din didn’t like that. He stopped in his footsteps again and this time he grabbed both of your arms, holding you firm and steady. You were scared to breathe the wrong way under his grip.
“You should feel lucky, princess, you know what those kinds of people do to pretty things like you?” he hissed, and you felt a wildness of butterflies erupt in your stomach. Pretty. It was one word and he probably didn’t even mean it. Of course he didn’t mean it, because Din was pissed with you. He wouldn’t be paying you compliments, or at least, not right now. He was trying to intimidate you, and honestly, it was working, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little bit.
And as it turned out, maybe Din liked the idea of being your rescuer a little too much.
“What do they do?” you whispered, and Din trailed a gloved hand to your neck and let his fingers glide across your jaw before grabbing your neck and giving it an experimental squeeze. Again, it didn’t hurt, but it was enough for you to be put in your place. You had been so used to ruling Mandalore and taking charge, but now you were the one who submitted to Din. He was the one who enforced the rules, that much was clear.
Din didn’t reply to your question, just as much meekly chuckled and shook his head. “You’re lucky,” he repeated, reinforcing his previous statement. “But if you want to misbehave, I can just as easily hand you in.”
He wouldn’t, would he? No. He wouldn’t.
He was just very, very mad.
He was trying to scare you, but you wouldn’t cave. You were better than that.
But still, you wanted to know what exactly would happen if you misbehaved. Your curiosity had piqued significantly.
“You left me and Grogu on the ship, alone,” you muttered by the time you had reached the outskirts of the village. “I thought Nevarro was safe.”
“It was,” Din retorted bitterly. “Keep your head down and take my hand. Imps are swarming the town, we need to hide you before they notice anything suspicious.”
You weren’t going to argue with him because in that moment you knew for sure he was still desperately trying to protect you. He could stay angry with you all he liked, but he was bound by the code of Mandalore to make sure nothing happened to you, and that was good enough.
Din pulled up your hood and tied the little ribbon that bound together your cloak. “I can dress myself.” you mumbled.
“Keep your head down.” he grunted in response.
So, as Din dragged you through the cobbled paths, you didn’t look up once. He was taking you along back alleys and different routes to try and avoid any unwelcome contact, but you did realise that he had parked the ship in the north and you were currently advancing east. Grogu made a confused noise as if he was reading your mind.
“Where are we going?” you quizzed Din.
“Safe spot.”
If there was one thing that irked you about the Mandalorian, it was his lack of words, or the way when he did speak, he said things as if they couldn’t be questioned. Like they were set in stone.
“Safe spot?” you quirked an eyebrow, wanting a little more information out of him.
But of course, he didn’t provide. “Safe spot.” he reiterated, before dialling in a code on a security panel that was nailed to a wall.
The door slid open and Din pulled you in, before the door quickly snapped shut behind you both. It was a long dark corridor down that was illuminated with burning candlelight.
And for the very first time since your childhood, you were greeted with the presence of other Mandalorians, each decked out in full body armour. You felt like an intruder who couldn’t help but stare and take in the fascinating sight before you.
“What is this place?” you asked, your jaw agape.
Whatever annoyance Din had been feeling before was instantly eradicated when he took just one look at you. He felt his heart swell in his chest as he noticed the glimmer in your eyes. It was curious and child-like. It gave you this beautiful radiance.
“Covert.” Din replied, the simple one word response offering more information than he’d previously given you. “You’ll be safe here.” he promised.
Din took your hand this time, interlocking his gloved fingers in yours. The touch took you by surprise as it differed from his rough manhandling that you had gotten accustomed too. You followed Din down the never ending corridor until eventually, you both passed through an alcove and were introduced to a golden Mandalorian.
“This is the Armorer,” Din said. “She’s my mentor.”
The golden Mandalorian curtseyed before you before rising back to her feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.”
“The pleasure is mine.” you hummed, still slightly distracted by your whereabouts.
“This specific covert is over two hundred years old,” The Armorer explained to you. “It was the only covert that wasn’t raided during the Great Purge,” You winced at the way she had brought up the memory. “The walls are thick and we have a squad on defence. I trust that Din Djarin has been treating you well?”
You tried to hold back a smirk as you wondered what would happen if you told his mentor of how he’d gotten angry with you. But the truth was, Din had been good to you. Maybe more so than you probably deserved. He never chose to take on this mission, but done so because it was his duty. He was helping you because it was the right thing to do, and that was enough. Morally, Din might have considered himself grey, but you believed that he was in fact a good person.
“He’s been great.” you said softly, and Din felt his cheeks heat up under the beskar.
“Hmph,” the Armorer replied before turning to the Mandalorian. “Can I have a word with you in private, please?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in bewilderment as you watched Din and his mentor walk away, leaving you with Grogu.
“She’s not wearing the ring,” The Armorer said, and despite the golden plated mask that covered her face, Din just knew she was frowning. “You haven’t asked her yet, have you?”
“I haven’t exactly gotten the chance,” Din huffed. “We’ve just met. If I asked her now she’d never say yes. We barely even know each other.”
“But you are getting along fine?” The Armorer asked, and Din didn’t reply. He just breathed an exasperated huff of air which wasn’t even picked up by his modulator. “We can’t give her the protection she desires if she doesn’t marry into the Watch. This is the way.” The Armorer explained matter-of-factly.
This is the way. Din often wondered if the Armorer just made up ‘the way’ as she went along, using it as a way to justify all her decisions. Although, it did make sense, to a degree. Din’s creed were very proud. They were strong, and there were at least thirty other children of the Watch roaming the halls of the covert. If you married into Din’s creed, you would technically become a child of the Watch yourself. You’d be safe.
Would it be wise to bring up the things you had told Din about the Watch, and how they had treated your people? Din had been questioning it, but there was no way of telling how the Armorer would react to such gossip. The last thing Din needed right now was for his mentor to think he was betraying his creed in favour of the princess.
The prolonged silence between both Mandalorians prompted the Armorer to speak up again. “You have until nightfall to propose. Otherwise she must leave, and you will seek new protection.”
And that was when the first penny dropped. This was essentially blackmail, and it left Din with no choice. Sure, you were great. You were strong and beautiful and you had this undeniable fiest about you. And Din saw the way you were with Grogu. It was enough to soften him more than he’d ever been softened before. You brought out a completely new side to the Mandalorian. Maybe one day, Din could marry you - out of want, not need. Maybe settling down with you and the kid would be… nice.
He’d thought about the prospect of leaving everything behind when he last ventured to Sorgan and befriended the gentle widow Omera. But in that moment, he had other priorities to focus on. But what were his priorities now? Before you came into his life, he was simply floating between bounties and residing on Nevarro with Grogu. Grogu. That was Din’s priority. And now… you were too. So no, proposing wouldn’t be ideal. But if it meant guaranteeing your safety, Din knew what he had to do.
And he had until nightfall.
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