#mask of mandalore

[kanskje-kaffe]

bo-katan as elizabeth i's coronation portrait, you know the one

kryze’alor bo-katan

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i’ve been looking forward to drawing this since the second you put it in my inbox THANK YOU, the minute i saw it i knew i wanted to try some mandalorian art and draw bo katan’s actual coronation portrait.

she bears the darksaber and the mask of mandalore, the symbols of leadership to both the ancient taung and the modern true mandalorians. she is wearing her armor displaying the ka’rta beskar, the mandalorian iron heart, and she is anointed by the ka’ra - the stars that represent both the spirits of the mand’alors before her and the mandalorian people themselves scattered across the galaxy - shining overhead.

all the colors for this were sampled from the elizabeth i portrait too!

[redbean-nom]

Mand'alor and Fett

also a plain color and lineart version

(seriously every generation with a named Fett features at least one of them being the Mand'alor's best friend or family)

[renesassing]

anyway te taylir being equated to beskar’gam itself. the heart of mandalore, reforged anew again and again, the tether between past and future, that which is beaten into shape. that which ensures survival. that which can endure even the blade of a jedi.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : Din Djarin x Reader

» CONTENTS : Smuttt. Needy Din- maskless Din is a sub, fight with the wall. Body worship (face… worship?). P in V sex- emphasis more on the P on V sex). Not proof read.

» SUMMARY: Traditions form after Din removes the mask.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

It’s freezing cold to the touch, the sharp edges of his helmet practically slicing your fingers open as you tentatively lift the beskar from his face. You feel his aquiline nose catch on the foam padding on the inside. You utter a sorry.

Din’s palms splay over your hips where you straddle him in the minute cot, leather biting lightly against your bare skin where he digs his fingers in. His eyelashes flutter as the edge of his helmet is pulled up, and he’s exposed to the harsh, untempered lights inside the Razor Crest. Din turns his face to the side, unable to look you in the eye. Even now, after all this time, he’s still momentarily apprehensive about displaying his face to you.

“Hold still for me,” you whisper, so quiet that you’re sure that your own heartbeat muffles your order, drowning your words out with its pulse. It’s thrumming wildly against your sternum, still thrilled by the sight of Din’s eyes on you.

Mercenary, Bounty Hunter, Mandalorian- Mandalore. All of Din’s titles melt away like beskar in an armourer’s kiln when you’re alone. The alloy drips and runs and cools, melding the warrior a far simpler and benign title- yours.

Din’s breath stalls in his lungs as you begin your ritual, his eyes cast to the durasteel hangar ceiling as he feels you press your lips to his with a gentle urgency. One kiss, then another, and another. You barely give him a moment to register your affections, his own lips lagging behind in their response.

“Mhmm~” You hum, but it bleeds into a whine as you settle your bare cunt over the length of Din’s cock. His groan dies behind gritted teeth as you sweep your hips over the length of him, soaking the velvety skin with your slick.

His chestplate is freezing against your breasts as you lean over him, having given him no time to undress when you threw him back against the cot and took what you wanted. Your nipples are hard against the cold Beskar-steel, dragging back and forth slightly as your hips rock against the curve of his dick. It makes you ache for him even more.

Focusing a slow, steady rhythm with your hips, you allow your lips to wander. They trace his jawline, sharp as the spear he carries with him. Din tilts his head back for you, gasping out your name as you bite the skin stretched across the bone. You nip playfully, focusing your attention on the patchy parts of his jaw, where the hair is sparse.

“C-Cyar'ika,” Din groans, his voice pitchy over the wet sounds of his cock sweeping through your folds. The head bumps your clit, and you whine against the curve of his jaw, your chin pressed to his pulse point.

Din Djarin is the prettiest man you’d ever met. His expressions, however, were even more enticing. Hidden behind a mask for his entire adult life, Din never learnt to neutralise his face. It made him emotive, especially in bed.

As you kiss the tip of his nose, you watch as his eyebrows pinch together, then arch up slightly as you let the weeping tip of his cock nudge at your entrance. You settle on it lightly, let the head sink inside before pulling up again quickly, barely allowing him a moment to relish the tight heat. He lets out a groan of frustration, desperation, as you drag your lips over the arch of his aquiline nose.

God, you love his nose. You praise it, its beauty, worship the way it makes you feel when you grind down on it. Humming softly, you can’t help but grin into the kisses you offer as his jaw falls slack, moaning out your name.

“Stars,” he groans out louder, with a sudden urgency that startles you, “Please, I need- I need to feel you.”

Din’s voice without the modulator is impassioned, cracking slightly on a whine as he begs you for mercy. For relief. A vulnerable tone he barely affords you unless you take control. The leather of his gloves digs into the meat of your ass, palms shifting your hips forward to pull your weeping pussy across his length.

Refusing to give into his demands, you continue your affections. You press soft kisses above his eyebrows, then each of his closed eyelids. His eyes- they took your breath away, stealing your attention when he first removed his helmet for you. You’d heard the tales of ‘brown eyes’, but they did little to emphasise their beauty. Deep, rich, laced with Din’s heavily guarded emotions that he’d veiled with beskar.

“You’re impatient,” you finally point out in a breathy whisper, lungs working a little harder as you feel something delicious settle at the base of your spine. Din looks like he could cry, desperation kicking in as he jerks his hips up against yours.

“I am deprived,” he murmurs back, an edge to his tone. The Child had clung to him for days following his last bounty job- he hadn’t had time alone with you for at least a week despite doing everything he could- stolen kisses in the cockpit, even attempting to shut Grogu in his bassinet. Somehow, he always managed to stumble into the room at the most inopportune time, much to his father’s utter dismay.

Sitting up, one of your palms settles on Din’s breastplate, you push strands of his unkempt curls from his damp forehead. Din, as renowned and feared a bounty hunter he is, also keens for you, vulnerable and achy for your affections. He chases your hand, leaning his face into your touch as you care for him.

Rewarding his openness, you reach between your thighs to take his cock in your palm. Din lets out a slight hiss, sucking between his teeth as you work his cock slowly. The drag of your palm against his sensitive flesh has him bucking his hips again, pressing the crown of his head back into the pillow.

“Din,” you whisper his name, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and centre his focus on the swirling arousal that builds quickly.

“Please.”

Pressing a gentle kiss to Din’s lips, swollen from your previous affections, you sink down onto his aching cock.

“Fuuuuck, Cyar'ik-aah-“

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina @pedrosprincess

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[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

Noetic

Summary: Din relies on the teachings of his Jedi companion to wield the Darksaber.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Jedi!reader

Word Count: 700

Noetic: Adj. Meaning of or associated with or requiring the use of the mind.

“You’re fighting the Darksaber,” 

“It’s fighting me,” Din grunts, the blade tipping down, slicing a crescent shape into the grass below. As much as Din attempts to overrule it, the saber triumphs over him. And his anger only makes the gravitation heavier. 

“It didn’t survive over a thousand years to be outmatched by one Mandalorian. Even by one as muscular as you.”

Din swears, laden with his own emotions. Typically any flirtatious comment throws him, but he’s too frazzled to acknowledge it. He retracts the blade and throws his arms up. You half expect him to chuck the saber into the nearby lake. Instead, he tosses it at the ground.

“The creator of the Darksaber was both Mandalorian and Jedi,” you bend down to retrieve the handle, brushing off the stray pieces of grass. “what does that tell you?”

“That I’m grateful you’re only a Jedi.” Din tries to joke, but his tone is coarse, and his anger slips through the modulator. You travel to him, taking a gloved hand in yours. Your fingers delicately wrap his own around the handle.

“You’ve mastered the ways of Mandalore. Now, you have to think like a Jedi.”

“What does that intel?”

You let his hand drop, planting yourself on the plush grass and crossing your legs. “Sit.” 

Din squats and stares at you expectantly through the sharp line of his visor. He gestures with his hands, waiting. 

“Ass on the ground.” 

A sigh escapes the modulator as he obeys your request. 

“What do you feel?”

“Grass.”

This was going to be a long day. 

“Look within.”

Another sigh. “Frustrated.”

You roll your hand, urging him to continue. 

“Frustrated that I can’t get this blasted thing to work.”

“Close your eyes.”

Din simply stares at you. He hasn’t survived this long by shutting his eyes to the world around him. 

“Do it.”

Din wonders what the force entails for you to see past his mask. But he recalls it’s not through the physical objects themselves but through himself that you sense his reluctance. You possess an inward gaze into the world around you, a clarity towards the people and, in this case, objects. Maybe, just maybe, Din needed some of that lucidity too. 

“Hold the handle,” you start. Din rubs a thumb over it. “Think of the blade’s intentions. After a thousand years, what is it seeking?”

“It’s just a blade.” Din deadpans. He peeks and is met with your enraged glare. Even for a Jedi, you’re losing patience with him. And it scares him. “It wants the possessor to fight in the name of Mandalore.”

“Go on.”

“It’s traded hands,” Din thinks of Bo-Katan and Moff Gideon. “many times. It wants to be in the right hands. Maybe I’m not those hands.”

“Maybe it needs to feel your intentions like I can feel you peeking.”

Din squeezes his eyes shut. He wouldn’t let anyone else cripple him in such a way. But here, with you, Din complies. “I want to serve my creed, to build Mandalore up again,” he thinks of you and Grogu. “But mostly, I need to protect my clan.”

Din can’t see your smile, so you let it blossom on your lips. 

“Now, instead of focusing on your emotions,” he hears you shuffle but dares not to open his eyes, afraid to lose his train of thought. “think of your intentions and raise the blade.”

Din gazes up at you with partial-focused eyes. He feels… calm. Introspect isn’t something Mandalorians are taught, nor is peace. Even at his age, he still has a lot to learn. He imagines that this is how you always feel whenever you meditate. Tranquil and grounded. Perhaps it’s because he’s thinking of you.

You wait as Din shuffles to his feet. He grips the handle in his hand and extracts the blade in a swift motion. You match his movement, and your light-colored saber contrasts the Darksaber. 

“Imagine that you’re defending Mandalore. Defending Grogu. Defending me. Manifest it.” And when Din pictures it, you strike. 

[direwolfrules]

Rebels crack AU where Ezra and Kanan keep dragging the Ghost Crew on field trips to do mythical Force Stuff TM and on almost every one of these field trips Sabine stumbles over an ancient Mandalorian artifact or completes some rite of passage.

Like, they go to some random moon to commune with an ancient Force deity, and Sabine trips over what at first glance appears to be a rock, but upon further inspection, it turns out to be the kriffing Mask of The Mandalore. Just lying there. In the dirt. The original symbol of Mandalorian Rulership is half buried by sand on some nowhere rock.

Hera decides to go to the local markets on some Outer Rim planet while Kanan and Ezra do some Force nonsense in an abandoned temple and drags Sabine with her. In this run-down antique shop Sabine sees the most famous tapestry of Mandalore the Binder’s life story, one woven by Mandalore the Binder himself.

They go to Jedha to complete a trial for the Guardians of the Whills and because these things seem to take forever, Sabine goes to a restaurant to get lunch. She trips over an old man on her way back to her table with her food, and before she can finish apologizing he just smiles at her and tells her it's alright before walking away. Later, once they are all back on the ship Sabine opens her bag only to realize there's a holocron in it. She gets Ezra to open it and it's Tarre Vizsla's holocron.

They go to Tatooine to fight a Darkside ghost and Sabine gets poisoned by Tuskens. She manages to fight her way into their camp and get the antidote, with minimal help because the only crew member left outside the ancient Darkside vault beside her was Chopper. Later on Sabine talks to her parents about how weird of a day it's been and Ursa's so proud she went through that ancient trial, her many times great-grandmother would be so pleased. (This was my least favorite Tatooine quest in SWTOR).

[ahsokasupremacy]

Alright, here are my Top Ten funniest guesses (+1 that I bet nobody ELSE will guess) for who Inquisitor Marrok actually is!

You are most welcome to correct me or let me know who YOU think is most probable.

And just to challenge myself, I’m NOT putting Ezra. Because that would be too obvious.

1. Barriss Offee

I’m serious when I say that this is probably the most likely.

We know that she is a very important character in Ahsoka’s life, the writers could be trying to mislead us into thinking that the Force User is a man when really we have no confirmation that they are. Plus Dave Filoni has said in interviews that he refused to have the character make cameos just because he wanted to save her for later. Also, many people already speculated that Barriss became an Inquisitor after Order 66, explaining the double-sided Inquisitor lightsaber.

2. Darth Maul

Their build is a little too skinny for Darth Maul, and also wow, he must really be getting up there. And also, he died in Rebels. But when has that really ever stopped Disney from resurrecting him? I just think they should keep bringing him back. For the bit. I want the opening scroll for the upcoming Daisy Ridley movie to contain the words “Somehow, Darth Maul returned…”

3. Bo Katan

I highly doubt this because her character arc on the Mandalorian is already concluded, but I can kinda see her doing this as like, a side gig. Homegirl is probably broke from paying off Mandalore’s restoration fees. She’s not a Force User unfortunately, but when has that ever stopped her? I like to believe that Bo Katan simply woke up one day and decided to be Force Sensitive and it all kinda worked out for her somehow.

4. Lux Bonteri

If this is the option David Filoni is going with, BOOO. Yet another character who isn’t Force Sensitive. If you really think about it, Dave Filoni probably wants to include someone with an important history with Ahsoka, someone close to her that she held dear and that betrayed her and that she still has lingering feelings for.

Well actually that person is Barriss, and yknow, she kinda went MIA. Sooo the next best thing we could get is Lux, I guess!

5. Anakin (Force Ghost)

Daaaad, what are you doing here?

Well, the ghosts of Obi-Wan and Yoda told him to fuck off and get a job. So here he is. He’s putting in the work! He’s logging onto his Zoom! Ahsoka is gonna be sooo surprised when he finally takes off the mask and reveals it was him along. Just you wait! It’s gonna be so funny!

6. Korkie Kryze

Now we’re really starting to get big brained here.

In Legends, we have Jacen Solo. In the sequels, we have Kylo Ren.

But in the Brand New Republic era? Hark, a new villain arises. Korkie is embittered about being left behind and forgotten by his biological parents, Satine and Obi-Wan. And now he is out for revenge against all the Force Users and Mandalorians who abandoned him. Mwahahaha. We should’ve known he would turn out like this, he’s a ginger after all.

7. Ventress

This would technically make Dark Disciple non-canon? But I don't think Dave Filoni cares, considering he hilariously made the Ahsoka novel non-canon. Ventress is obviously very powerful and capable of dual-wielding and she would make a great candidate for an Inquisitor. Plus her and Morgan Elsbeth are both former Nightsisters so points for rapport.

8. Anakin’s Evil Clone

Hey, I mean Palpatine HAD to start somewhere, right? He didn’t just create Snoke without practice. I like to think he tried making a second Anakin at first, only to discover that Clonakin was a huge pain in the ass and doesn’t wanna follow orders just sit on the couch all day eating the space equivalent of Hot Cheetos.

9. Cal Kestis but he’s evil now

This one pretty much goes against everything we know about Cal but hey, I’ll take a live action Cal cameo any day now. I’ve been on the frontlines defending my babygirl Anakin since day one, don’t even try to lecture me about the ethics of stanning Darksider Cal.

9. Mara Jade

OK no more messing around!! I'm serious this time!

EVERYONE LISTEN CLOSELY!

I think the reason why Dave hasn't made any references to Eli, or Ar'alani, or Vahnya must be because he grew up on the 80s Legends trilogy (not the canon trilogy). Whenever Thrawn is mentioned, there is a direct reference to Heir to the Empire. The same novel where Mara Jade is introduced as the Hand of the Emperor. Coincidence? I think not! Obviously, this must be part of Dave Filoni's master plan to softlaunch the upcoming top secret Thrawn series adaptation.

10. Starkiller

My only real proof is that his name (Marek, Marrok) kinda sounds similar?

Making Starkiller canon would create a whole bunch of problems for the Star Wars timeline. I think his origin story is too Mary Sue-y for even Dave Filoni to try and integrate into current canon.

However, it would be interesting to see a showdown between Anakin's two former apprentices. Interesting, but unlikely.

And finally, for my last guess, I will tell you exactly who Marrok REALLY is. Kathleen Kennedy told me personally, so don't get mad at me! She said it, not me!

11. Luuke (the clone Palpatine made out of Luke's dismembered hand)

This is the ONLY correct answer.

Us Timothy Zahn enjoyers know that this was really Luuke all along. I told you, Snoke isn't the first clone that Palpatine made! I imagine he had a lot of downtime and got bored and decided to fuck around, and that's how we got Luuke.

And yes, I would cast Sebastian Stan to play him because I'm petty AF.

[dyns33]

The Mand'alor

HAPPY PEDRO DAY !!!

I wanted to do a tiny bit dark Mand'alor Din Djarin x reader, but the sweet part in me is really bad at this.

The whole galaxy had heard of the Mandalorians and their leader, the terrible Mand'alor, with his shining armor and his darksaber. A group of mercenaries, weapons fanatics, relentless killers.

They had fought against the Empire, they didn't like the Republic very much, and no one really dared to force them to follow the new rules. They had a code of honor, but also a lot of pride and temperament.

Y/N had never seen a Mandalorian. There wasn't much action on her little planet, even during the war. Few people stopped there, unless they had to, to find resources, rest, or hide for a while.

When the little green thing grabbed her leg in the street, she jumped. She almost kicked to get away, but her eyes met the child's, full of fear and hope, and Y/N stopped to lean closer to him.

He didn't speak, either because he was too young or because he used another language, but she couldn't get anything out of him by asking his name or what he was doing here. What was certain was that he was bleeding slightly from his right ear, and that he needed help.

Those who were running after the little one didn't take long to find them, following Y/N to her place. Luckily for her, they were also being followed.

She had never seen a Mandalorian, but she had heard the legends, and she watched this tall, armored man kill the attackers one by one without the slightest difficulty.

As soon as he finished, he approached her, who was holding the child in her arms, ready to defend him against this new threat.

“You’re alright ?” he asked with a calm voice, extending his hand towards the child who fidgeted, wanting to reach him.

"I won't let you hurt him."

"Oh, little me'suum'ika. I would never harm my ad. My son. These cowards pretended to be warriors to come in and kidnap him. Without you… Vor'e, mesh'la ! Thank you. You have all my gratitude. I want to show you all my gratitude, will you come with us ?"

There would have been several reasons to refuse to follow the stranger, clearly dangerous and masked, but the kid seemed to trust him completely, jumping on him as soon as Y/N let go of him a little.

The Mandalorian claimed to be his father, and he acted like one, patting his little head and whispering reassuring words, along with apologies for not having properly protected him.

His invitation was not an obligation, Y/N felt that he would not insist if she refused, but there was nothing very important on her planet, she had no family for a long time, and she never left this place. A little adventure would be fun.

The trip shouldn't last very long, just to please her as a thank you, before moving on.

There were some things she didn't know at the time.

First thing, a Mandalorian never forgot. Mando'ad draar digu. He would never move on.

Second thing, the leader of the Mandalorian forgot even less. Din Djarin, as he entrusted his name to her as an immense privilege, adored his son more than anything in the world. So he held Y/N in high regard for defending him when she didn't know the child and wasn't a fighter.

In addition, little Grogu seemed to have become very attached to her.

The last thing was whispered to her, even though it had been several weeks since she arrived on Mandalore, where she was treated like a true princess. Shyly, she asked when she would return home.

“Aren’t you happy here ?” asked Bo-Katan, the captain of the guard. "A simple word and our Mand'alor will do anything for your pleasure."

"Everything is perfect. I don't want to intrude too long by abusing your hospitality, that's all."

“Has anyone made a comment to you ?”

"No not at all." Y/N replied nervously.

No one said anything, but it was strange to be the only person not wearing armor all the time.

In the interest of fairness, the Mand'alor had allowed those who wished to remove their helmet, but he himself did not remove it in front of anyone, maintaining an old, almost fanatical belief.

However, he had not asked Y/N to convert, drawing the attention of his people to this new woman. They said nothing, but she felt their eyes on her.

“He will kill the first person who dares to criticize you.” Bo-Katan said before speaking lower. "It must be said… There is a werde in him. The sword is heavy to carry."

"I do not know this word."

"Just know that you are important to him. You help him a lot. Stay as long as you want."

It took her a bit longer to understand that she was more or less a prisoner. Free to roam the palace and the city, but not to leave Mandalore. Din Djarin wanted to keep her here.

The looks turned towards her were not full of hatred, but on the contrary of pity, mixed with a certain hope.

Since inheriting the darksaber, their leader was no longer the same. He hadn't completely lost his mind thanks to his son, but he had some moments of extreme, uncontrollable violence.

These attacks had calmed down a bit since Y/N’s arrival. No doubt Din didn't want to scare her or lower her esteem. There were rumors that she was his ori'copaad, which didn't entirely seem like a good thing.

“Uur !” he growled as the Armorer came to see him to talk politics. “I don’t care at all about the Republic.”

"Me too, Mand'alor, but we should receive them. They might try to harm us."

"They can try, they will fail. I have no chaab, none."

"Really, Mand'alor ?"

At that moment, Din turned his head towards Y/N, who was discreetly listening to them from the garden, Grogu snickering in her lap. He remained silent for a moment, before sighing.

"Fine. Contact them."

“Your aliit will be proud of this decision.”

More than not being able to leave, Y/N found this habit they had of going from basic to a language that she didn't understand quite painful. As if they were doing it on purpose.

The Mand'alor was the only one who made an effort with her, translating most of the unknown words. He only kept what seemed like nicknames a mystery.

“What does “mesh’la” mean ?”

“That means you, kar’ta.”

"And that ? What does that mean ?"

“Cyare, you ask a lot of questions.”

“And you don’t give many answers.”

“Mir’sheb.” he sneered, handing hier Grogu. She was the only one to whom he entrusted his son like this. "Your buir is a mir'sheb, like you. Give her a mureyca."

The child's hug, plus all of Din's attention, almost made her want to forgive him. Aside from the fact that she knew she wasn't allowed to leave, nothing made her want to leave.

But Y/N didn’t think she belonged here. She wasn't a Mandalorian, and as a leader, equivalent to a king, Din had no time to waste on her. Maybe she had saved his son, but she wasn't anything special.

Whenever he could escape his responsibilities, he would come with Grogu to watch her play with the child and talk about her.

He had to see that she had nothing interesting to offer.

This was why she tried to flee, by taking a ship. Her father had shown her how to fly before he died, it had been a long time. She therefore had to be discreet to have a maximum head start, to have a chance that they would lose her tracks.

Unfortunately Bo-Kanta had been very serious in telling her that she was important to Din. Her surveillance was as important as it was for Grogu. Her absence was quickly noticed, and reported to the Mand'alor.

Being the best tracker, he personally set out in pursuit, without having to yell at the others not to shoot at the stolen ship. They all knew what they were risking if Y/N got hurt.

"Dank farrik, cyare ! Y/N ! Stop !" She could hear him shouting into the communicator, what sounded like sadness in his voice. "Why are you leaving ? Vhey vencuyot… Cyare… Talk to me, tell me what's going on !"

It was very dangerous but she managed to lose him by passing through an asteroid field. Since it would be too obvious that she was going to return to her planet, she headed to a small system, landing on Tatooine.

Yet she had heard the legends. You couldn't escape the Mandalorians, and even less the Mand'alor.

This time, when a hand grabbed her arm, she didn't hold her foot. But beskar was a hard metal, and she probably did more harm to herself than to Din, who let go of her all the same, surprised by her reaction.

He didn't attempt to touch her again, simply following her as she ran through the alleys, begging her to listen to him.

Her run ended in a dead end, and that didn't seem to surprise the Mandalorian. He obviously knew this planet.

"Cyare… Why are you running from me ? Grogu misses you a lot. You… My commander told me that you can ignore what you really represent, but I don't dare believe that."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, mesh'la… As soon as I saw you with my son, I knew that my heart was yours, that I couldn't live without knowing that you were happy and safe. The missing part of my clan, of my life. Nor ceta, Y/N. I thought my intentions were clear. Will you forgive me ? Will you accept… Come home with me, gedet'ye. I beg you."

After everything he had done, she wasn't sure he would take no for an answer. But Din had never hurt her since they met. He had always been gentle and patient. If she could have seen his face, it would probably have been more obvious that he was looking at her with complete devotion.

Seeing that she didn't say no, he approached slowly, until his helmet touched her forehead. She then heard him sigh in relief.

Y/N had seen some Mandalorians do this. Bo-Katan had explained that it was a mirshmure'cya, a keldabe kiss. A very important form of privacy for those of them who did not remove their full armor.

She wondered if she would ever see him if she stayed. For a while she had imagined his face, until he told her that Grogu had been adopted. It would be a terrible offense to ask him for this sacrifice. But he asked him to stay locked up in his palace.

"I would like to see you." she whispered, trying not to tremble.

"See me ?"

"Yes. I mean, I like you a lot. I like Grogu. But I would like to know what you look like."

“Will that change anything ?”

"… No." Y/N said honestly. “I’m just curious.” To see his face, but also if he would do this for her, he who said he would do anything.

There was a moment of silence, of hesitation. Then Din nodded, reaching for his helmet to remove it. Immediately, Y/N placed her hands on his to stop him.

"But… Your vows…"

"Cyare. My sweet cyare. I have the right to remove my helmet in front of my aliit. You have been part of my clan since the moment our paths crossed."

“But you’ve never done this before.”

"I didn't dare… I didn't want to disappoint you and… I wanted to wait for our riduurok. I haven't properly wooed you for that yet."

"If you are… If you are sure, show me."

“Anything for you, cyare.”

He was younger than she had imagined. More handsome too, with his black eyes and his little intimidated, almost frightened pout. Din let her look at him without moving, displaying an expression of complete satisfaction when she touched his cheek.

He only stopped her when she tried to kiss him.

"Not here."

"Why not ?"

"I wouldn't be able to control myself. And I'd rather we were at home than in a dark alley for that."

The entire galaxy heard of the Mand'alor's marriage to the woman who had saved his son. The only two people who didn't risk his fury, who had some control over him, and for whom he was ready to burn everything if anything happened to them.

Some madmen tried to approach his clan, as they had tried to take Grogu. Rumors of what had happened to them were enough to stop all further attempts.

Even after Y/N managed to convince Din to bring her with him to the few extra-planetary missions he carried out, because she could no longer stand the life of a stay-at-home queen.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

“He’ll bang on the glass until you do.”

“Pato.” Grogu confirmed, fidgeting in his mother's arms.

"… Fine. But this is the last time."

“Of course, riduur.”

“Cyare.” Din purred, a hand settling on her leg, as he activated hyperspace to please their child.

[marveloustimestwo]

Would you mind doing something for yandere Anakin finding out his 3rd child was taken to mandalore, maybe smth Abt him trying to force their helmet off? Only if you want! Thank you so much if you decide to!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Yandere themes, Reader was raised in a cult (aka the Watch), kidnapping, and Anakin crosses Reader's boundaries.

Anakin would be such a hypocrite when it comes to his Mandalorian-raised child.

Like, even if he had his suit in this scenario, he doesn't really register the boundaries of not wanting the helmet to be taken off. He would viciously kill anybody for trying to take off his own helmet or trying to take off yours either, but when it comes to him?

He's your dad, obviously, he's the exception.

He spent so long not even knowing you existed. Finding out that not only does he have two kids, but three, it's gut-wrenching.

When you, Luke, and Leia were all separated as babies, your brother was sent to your father's home planet while your sister was taken in by Bail and Breha Organa. You ended up in the hands of the Children of the Watch.

Growing up, you never know about your real parentage. You assumed that you were an orphan like everyone else in the Watch, and you were raised with their teachings and beliefs.

You were raised as a warrior, never to take off your helmet around those outside of your family.

When you became of age, you left the Watch to go out on your own. You knew of the Sith Darth Vadar, of what he had done to the universe, but you had always operated under the assumption that there was nothing you could do about it. After all, you were just an inexperienced Mandalorian.

It's a few years later when you found out that you actually had family out there. Unfortunately, that revelation wasn't under the best circumstances.

You were the only one of your siblings to have not met the other two. Even after learning that you were out there from Obi-Wan, both Leia and Luke decided it was best to keep you out of their mess.

After learning this same information from reading Luke's mind, Darth Vadar dragged you right into the mess instead.

Vadar had resources all over. Considering how the Watch had let you keep your last name, it was quite easy for him to track down the Mandalorian named Skywalker.

The skills you learned from the Watch would do you no good in the face of what Anakin was willing to do to get you, and soon enough, you're trapped on his ship with all of your weapons taken from you.

And surprise, surprise! Anakin also wants your armor to be taken from you as well.

He wants to see what his child looks like, and wants to speak to you without that annoying mask getting in the way.

Protesting and fighting will only get you so far.

What do you mean your armor is integral to your religion? Oh, so only your family can see what you look like underneath it.

Well, you're in luck, kid, cause your blood-related father is standing right in front of you! Anakin will force everyone else to leave, but the helmet is still coming off.

Anakin is incredibly stubborn, and when it comes to you, he's also pretty delusional. You're his child and he was kept from you long enough. Just let him have this.

[jedi-mom]

The dark musty basement barely masked the howling winds outside nor kept the biting cold back. the only lights coming from the slowly blinking visor of some kind of droid, frozen midstep with a screen on it's faceplate displaying a large orange X and text reading "ERROR: 606" on it that flash every second. in the center of the room were two chairs, back to back, with one person on each, their hands tied and their weapons nowhere to be found.

@murder-clone-tech

Val groaned as she came too, she couldn’t quite remember what had happened to land her in this particular situation. She remembered she’d gone back to Mandalore, to clan Eldar. She’d gone for help not wanting to risk getting tracked back to the refuge. How she’d gone from her clan to here she had no clue.

[divinehedons]

a place of worship.

pairing: mandal'or!din djarin x f!reader

word count: ~2.7k words

summary: despite the multiple times from which you had made love with the mandal'or, there is always something quite different. like the taste of poison. from dust to divinity, measure for measure.

warnings: this is an explicit, dark fic. minors, DO NOT INTERACT. this is a play on bacchanalia (or at least divinely-induced mania) so expect a complete bastardization of both canon and religious-adjacent imagery. din djarin is possibly (definitely) not a good guy. dubious consent, explicit p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), allusions to non-consensual p-in-v, breeding kink

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS MUCH APPRECIATED! Please let me know what you think or if I missed anything!

You still remember the day you first met the keeper of Mandalore. You remember the masked warriors that took you from the comforts of your small home.You remember the rough hands of the armourer who pressed her gloved hands against your lower stomach, as if reading the very pattern of your skin. She takes your pulse, as if incensed by the strong rhythm of your very veins. Her blood is strong. She shall sire the heirs of the Mandal’or.

And that’s how you end up in his bedchambers, scrubbed clean of dirt and grime so much so that you felt your identity rinsed away. So much so that it allowed you to exist within and without. To believe, momentarily, that the consummation of what you didn’t know to be your marriage occurred to someone else, a different version of you.

He was a gentle lover, even back then. When all is said and done, he provided you with a small meal, the gentle touches cleaning you again of spend. He asked you your name. You said it in a whisper, He showed you his scars when you couldn’t stop looking. And, in that warm silence from which all memories exist, you showed your own.

–

You supposed it all changed when he started leaving for battle more often. The weeks of warfare would return him to you: slightly, but unmistakably changed. Sometimes you would hear of him lumbering into his hallowed halls, bearing the heavy weight of his beloved darksaber. You would hear his steps before you actually saw him, pulling you closer with a drunken chuckle.

“How about a kiss for your warrior riduur?” Sometimes you think he truly growls before he takes your lips between his teeth. 

Sometimes you fear he would one day bite your skin clean off. You try to tell him once that it hurt. He responded by truly making your lip bleed, tongue running across the taste of iron and moaning. Even when you squeal, writhe in the pain, it’s almost as if he was looking for a spot that made you cry the most. Then he kisses you again, comforts you, calls you the most beautiful things. Cyari’ka. Light of my life, my sin, my soul.

You have not carried an heir, even if it was your purpose. You were surprised by the kindness when he asked you if you wanted a child in those early days of your marriage. You suppose you should have cowered in fear. And yet, perhaps his kindness has convinced you otherwise. So you ask him to wait. You try and read his features beneath his stormy gaze. But he knows how to mask himself well. He smiles, kissing your forehead.

“Whatever you say, mesh’la.”

He does not tell you how politics goes and so you learn to read between the lines. 

When he falls short of something, he takes– he’d grab you by the arm, press you down to the nearest surface, and sink his half-hard cock between your unprepared walls. He shushes you when you whine. He forces his fingers down your throat when you persist. He does not wait for you to come. He fucks you for his own pleasure, oftentimes leaving you with his seed between your legs as he goes off to distract himself with his ward.

But when he succeeds… you are reminded of the patient man at the night of your wedding. He’ll ask you of your day and chuckle as you redden, flustered to come up with some linear narrative. He makes love so softly and so gently that for a moment you think you finally understand what it was everyone seemed to see in him. He stops from simply being the Mandal’or, the keeper of his realm, the cunningly vicious commander-in-chief. He softens, he turns somewhat human. He asks if you’d let him. Ask as the prickling of his beard tickles the crook of your neck, letting you pull off your own little chemise of your own volition. Ask as he weighs your breasts and suckles on them so needingly. Ask as he prepares you, bringing you orgasm over orgasm with his fingers and tongue before slowly finally fucking up to you.

As he approaches you now, you try and see which hand you will be dealt with. He sees you, picking through the seeds from the gardeners, trying to decide which would be most suitable for the season. And when you see him, you see his playful smirk as he finally disables his weapon, clipping it to his belt before brushing back a few fallen strands of hair.

“Have you eaten, adi’ka?”

Only then do you know. It was a good day.

—

In the more recent weeks, it had become harder to separate your marriage with your duty. No matter how the Mandal’or shielded you, you still heard the whispers. You still saw the dark visors looking towards you– towards your too-empty womb. You swore you heard someone tsk once. Yet what stuck to you the most was when the Armourer herself visited your riduur so early in the morning.

You were barely awake, pretending to have fallen asleep under the sheets whilst the two of them spoke. The air was tense, and you understood why she had come. She had come to deliver an ultimatum.

“We sought for the most viable being to ensure the safety of your bloodline,” she had been saying. “But seeing that it is not the case, perhaps it would be deemed proper to… seek out another.”

“You will do no such thing,” Din finally intercedes, clearly enraged by the suggestion. You hear the sound of breaking glass, a sharp cuss escaping from him. Did his grip on his drink slip, by all means? “The matters of my wedding bed are none of your business. And I will keep it that way.”

You hear the soft sigh of exasperation. One for each of them.

“I hoped for it to be the same. But you are expected to sire heirs. And in avoiding so… you leave an already unstable, rebuilding world into more chaos.”

You stop listening. It is too much. What hurt most was the knowledge that she was right.

Maybe that’s why you let Din take you completely when you woke again.

He fucks up into you with renewed vigor, muscles taut and begging to be released He growls in your ear when he sees your face contort with pleasure just as your consciousness shakes you awake. “Precious girl, you’re so good-” When you kiss him, he kisses back, when you moan, it makes him all the more determined.

Ever since the night you consummated your marriage, that morning was the first time he felt the prickling ironies of the Maker. It felt good, too good to watch you take his seed so willingly. It was a pleasure he never seemed to understand before.

You try to ask him what the matter was but he does not answer. You look into his eyes and you almost see the way he seemed to look into a different plane of reality, opening himself up to complete and utter surrender.

If only you knew where that look of his would lead you… perhaps you would have tried to wake him from his trance. Instead you let him, fucking you all morning until his duties finally tore him away from you.

—

He began to tell you of how mandal’ors have originally conceived their heirs. Generations upon generations, he claimed, were formed in the temple, blessed by the Makers themselves. He talked of it with such passion, such interest, that you saw it so vividly in your head. The mandal’or and their chosen partner, dressed down in nothing but sheer white robes, drinking from the Living Waters of Mandalore. You could imagine the chants as he whispers it to you in bed, a calling for divinity. Nine months later, a strong heir is born into the world, kicking and screaming with divine power in their bones.

All the while, his bad days grew more and more frequent. His turbulent gaze grew more familiar. So did the sting between your legs when you sit with him at dinner. He stopped talking to you, and instead chose to whisper to himself, muttering incoherent languages whenever he thinks you don’t look. He goes on battles more. His advisors tell you he succeeds, violently, at that. You heard whispers of how he slaughtered a warring tribe, done so without hesitation that no one looked him in the eye as they marched home.

He now fucks you with abandon, uncaring if you happen to pass out in the barrage of thrusts one evening, pinning you down so hard you bruised in another.

More than ever, you begin to feel more lonely. It begins to hurt your chest when, month after month, your husband finds that you still bleed, that once again, you have failed to provide him an heir.

Maybe that is why you suddenly succumb.

When you enter your dark bedroom, hearing his mutterings in the dark, you pretend not to hear, sinking into the sheets as you watch him seated on the edge of his side of the bed.

“Do you think it’s possible,” you began, horrified to hear the terror in your voice. “Do you think it’s possible to do it again?” He looks to you, stormy eyes still unweathered as you try to find the right words.”If we went to the temple, dressed in robes, and drank from the living waters… do you think it would still be the same thing?”

You see the light break in his gaze, rooted as he climbs up the bed to kiss you gently. He smirks in the darkness, as if his prey had finally fallen into his trap.

“I’ll make sure of it, mesh’la.”

—

When you both entered the temple, he was in a good mood. He attended to you all morning, brought you food to bed, brushing your hair with his fingers repeatedly as he watches your movements. Perhaps he was waiting for the moment you changed your mind. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t dare; it’s as if you knew his attitude would change the moment hesitation became apparent. So you smiled, asked him to help you dress, and followed him wherever he went.

Now here you stood, dressed in a thin white robe within the lower levels of the planet. It is quiet, and he is patient with you. It had been so natural, to kneel upon the obsidian banks of the Living Waters, to follow him in prayer, attempting your best to recreate the phonetics of Mando’a. And when you kneeled to cup fluid in your hands, it made sense. The water was cool and sweet to the touch, extinguishing the last embers of hesitation in your chest– and perhaps finally defeating your will, subduing you into the role the world has laid out for you.

It is difficult to describe the feeling of divinity cracking open your mind in submission. You feel pinpricks and shivers against your scalp, an electrifying presence that only grows stronger when Din Djarin presses his lips against the crook of your neck. He is so gentle about it, trailing his hands up and down your trembling torso, whispering pet names into your ear as you fully relax.against his touch.

Perhaps it was Pavlovian. Because whenever he spoke to you in Mando’a, it was like a shared secret, like nothing but the two of you mattered. Mesh’la, cya’re, adi’ka.

You try and respond whenever you can. Riduur, riduur, riduur.

He disrobes you, and the pinpricks of energy seem to follow his fingers wherever they went. “Sometimes I think you’re just divine,” he whispers, making you giggle as his rough beard scratches against the skin of your back, your thighs, the skin of your stomach. He seemed to stop right above where he imagined your womb to be, muttering once again in incomprehensible Mando’a, kissing the skin as you shut your eyes and melt into his touch.

In your hands, my love, you wanted to tell him, I find my devotion.

He lays you on a bed of smoother rocks, leaving himself on top of you, so close that you see that tranced look in his eyes, see how much intense it had been from the last time in the bedroom. You try and make him look at you, but he sees nothing, even with you sprawled, willing and brand new right before him. He focuses his actions on tasting your sweet little cunt, groaning at the feeling of your walls barely letting his tongue in.

“Always so tight for me, pretty girl.” He sounds so different, so distant.

So you shut your eyes. You pretend.

“Give me an heir, Din,” you finally whisper, spreading your legs for him, welcoming him to take. “A beautiful little heir…”

He does not even disrobe himself. But when he kisses you, he silences the doubts in your mind. His hands wander, exploring your skin anew before he finally cups your face gently, making you look at him before he carefully, lovingly fucks the head of his hard cock into your wanting cunt.

The stretch is glorious, comfortable. You feel your slick working to open you up for him. Your moan reverberates from the high walls of the caverns, combined with the feral growl that escapes the man above you. “That’s it. Just like that, cya’re. You like it, don’t you?” You try not to cry, feeling as if your husband had transformed right before your very eyes and you didn’t even know it.

You stare the man you love in the face, the keeper of Mandalore, the warrior divine, the bearer of the darksaber that tore from town after town. He kisses you again, and you try and recognize which parts of him remained the same. He is still Din. He responds to the same name. He kisses you the same way he does on the good days. He sounds the same, he still likes it when you tangle your hands into his hair and mewl needingly into his ear. You’d still follow him anywhere, even if he didn’t ask.

And then you try to recognize where he had changed. His hands pin you too tightly by your shoulders. Up close like this, you finally see the ghoulish dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping. His jaw, permanently locked as a tell of his alertness. It must have been weeks since he had ever felt at peace.

His rough fingers reach down to rub you through an orgasm, pausing to witness the way your body writhed from the pleasures brought about by your hand. He gets to have you this way. Only he gets to have you this way. Only he gave you the pleasure you felt burning through your bones. And it is enough. It is enough as he fucks you through the tidal waves, chasing his own release in a heavenly blend of cries and moans.

By the Maker, he thinks, perhaps You truly did exist. Only You are capable of creating such a glorious act of creation in her.

There is something different when he fills you up there, blessed by the Living Waters of his own planet, the same waters that sanctified him. He bites your lip until it bleeds, thrusting once, twice, before his knees buckle and he is falling into you, dazed and drunken from the very smell of your combined spent.

He makes you promise that you’ll never leave him. “Swear it, adi’ka. Right here where the heirs of Mandalore came into being.”

You promise. You swear.

He kisses you, and you try and pretend that you didn’t notice the way he had begun to force his mouth against yours. Even his kisses are changing too.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three Halloween Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

            “Why don’t you have to dress up to blend in?” grumbled (Y/N), hands on their hips.

            Mando sighed as he put Grogu down in the ship and closed the hatch. “Because these people don’t know what a Mandalorian is, and they’re having a festival where they dress up in masks and costumes. I fit in. You don’t.”

            “What I’m dressing up as, again?” asked (Y/N) as they picked up the bundled outfit.

            “Some sort of hunter spirit. That’s what the lord’s wife told me it was,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) nodded and stepped around behind a wall to change quickly while reviewing the details of the job. “What exactly is the point of our job here?”

            “We need funds, and since we have a good track record, Bo-Katan and the Armorer sent us on a job since a neighboring planet reached out,” said Mando. “There was an attempted assassination of one of their lords, so his wife hired us to hunt down the suspect. His puck tracked him to this festival.”

            “That’s a lot of area to cover,” said (Y/N). “Let’s just find him quickly.”

            “Can’t you use your Force-powers to track him down?” asked Mando, waving a hand in the way they usually did.

            (Y/N) stepped out, dressed in costume. “Yeah, that’s not really how that works. And don’t ask me how it does since I don’t really know either. I just go with whatever my gut tells me and that seems to be it.”

            Mando stared at (Y/N) in the costume. It was just a dark orange cloak slung around their shoulders, but the helmet-mask on their head was what shook Mando. It reminded him of a Mandalorian helmet, and as (Y/N) stared at him from behind the visor, he remembered just how deep their connection to Mandalore went. Mandalore the Great themself had chosen (Y/N), guided them, advised them.

            And although Mando would never force (Y/N) to permanently wear the helmet as the people of his Covert did, he had thought about them wearing more Mandalorian armor in the way Bo-Katan did, not always covering their face but clearly a member of the clan. His clan. Din (Y/N).

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet at (Y/N) looking so Mandalorian. That was his kid, ready to fight for Mandalore just as usual, closer to wearing their armor. Honestly, Mando thought they should be given armor already since they were clearly more than an apprentice, but he wouldn’t argue with the Armor. (Though, seriously, (Y/N) had wielded the Darksaber, had visions of Mandalore the Great, and defeated Moff Gideon to protect Mandalore. What more did anyone want? His kid was incredible).

            “Are we ready to go, Dad?” asked (Y/N), making sure their beskar dagger and blaster were accessible.

            Mando nodded, stopping his train of thought. (Y/N) would always be something of an anomaly, and he knew that. But they were his kid. That was the important part. “Come on. We should finish this job quickly before the assassin causes any trouble during the festivities.”

            “I could sneak up on them and grab them before they see your shiny armor coming,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “No, I take point.” Mando was still strict on that. “You’re there if he runs.”

            (Y/N) scowled beneath their helmet. “I fought Moff Gideon. Why do I have to play backup?”

            “Because you still run into danger without thinking,” said Mando matter-of-factly.

            (Y/N) shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. (Y/N)’s instincts just threw them into battle faster than their brain could think (at least, that was their interpretation of what Mando would call plain old recklessness).

l

            Mando’s visor blinked to alert him as he approached the puck tracking the would-be assassin. He wore a grey tunic and mask to blend in, but once Mando found his target, they didn’t escape his sight. That being said, he had lost sight of (Y/N). He really needed to put a tracker on his kid.

            Mando stepped out of the shadows and approached the assassin. The man turned into an alley, and Mando followed him. The moment he stepped foot into the alleyway, the assassin pivoted and drew a blaster.

            “Don’t move or I shoot,” warned the assassin. He knew he was being hunted.

            Mando really didn’t care. His beskar could take a hit, so although he dodged the first shot the assassin launched at him, he wasn’t afraid to get close. He fired a grappling dart from his gauntlet and pulled the assassin towards him, punching at the man. The assassin, however, was skilled at fighting, and the moment he was tugged towards Mando, he flicked out a dagger and cut himself loose. He evaded the attack and stabbed down at Mando’s arm, and Mando twisted to avoid it. When the assassin pivoted and effortlessly moved the blade towards the split in Mando’s armor between plates, Mando stepped back. He grabbed for his own blaster, raised it, and—

            A blur of umber orange landed on the assassin.

            The man grunted and fell to the ground before rolling away to his feet. (Y/N) was on their feet in the same instant, and when the assassin grabbed for his blaster, (Y/N) threw out a hand. It flew through the air, and in the moment the assassin stared in surprise, (Y/N) threw their dagger, and it landed in his dominant arm. He cried out at the sudden pain, and the moment of distraction was all Mando needed to grab him and punch him squarely, knocking him out. He let the assassin’s body fall to the dirt before looking at (Y/N).

            They could tell he was giving them a dad look from behind the helmet. They shrugged.

            “I let you take point. Then I decided to intervene,” they said.

            Mando sighed. (Y/N) was going to kill him with stress.

l

            (Y/N) put down the case of payment in the ship and grinned. “Bo-Katan and the Armorer will be happy.”

            “Yes,” agreed Mando, picking up Grogu and letting him pat his helmet to say hello after leaving him for the job.

            (Y/N) waved at their brother before pulling off the cloak and then the helmet of their costume. They shook their head and let their hair fall messily around them face. They grinned at him. “And I’m glad we’re back out on jobs together. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Mandalore needs the rebuilding and everything, but I don’t think I’m much cut out for the politics of it all.”

            And yet you gave Mandalore guidance when it needed it most and were chosen by one of the greatest Mandalorians of all time for…something, thought Mando. For being so bright at times, (Y/N) really didn’t seem to understand how special they were.

            “As long as you stay alive, you’ll do fine,” said Mando.

            “Death has to try harder than it has to get me,” said (Y/N), grinning and leaning into their dad.

            Mando put an arm around them and held them for a moment. “Please don’t tempt death. I don’t want to lose you.”

            (Y/N) paused and looked up at him. “You won’t lose me. We’re family, remember?”

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet. (Y/N) was a good Mandalorian now and would become an even greater one in the future. But above all of that, he liked them being his kid the most. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way.”

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[david-talks-sw]

Season 2 ended on a very suspenseful note that set up a lot of conflict for Season 3. It had us all wondering:

"Will Din and Grogu ever see each other again?"

"Din removed his mask. Can he still return to his covert, now that his quest is over?"

"Will Din become the next Mandalor or will Bo Katan inevitably have to fight him so she can get the Darksaber back...?"

And the answer to those questions turns out to be:

"Yep. Grogu just goes "nah fam Jedi way ain't for me" and just comes back, takes him about an episode."

"Sure. He just needs to do bathe in the waters first. He does it. And now he's back, two episodes later."

"Nope. She's able to get it back on a technicality. Everybody is still friends."

Who needs drama and personal conflict amirite?

Don't get me wrong, shows return to status quo all the time, but like did always have to be by taking the path of least resistance?

[fruitflowermyself]

Prove to me that Din Djarin leaving Mandalore to help the New Republic hunt down Imperials wasn’t Bo-Katan’s plan. Imperials glassed her planet and set up shop there like it was their Force given right to do so, you better believe all Mandalorians are going to be out there doing what they can to keep that from happening again. Not one of those masked disaster children are going to let Mandalore slip through their fingers again, and Bo-Katan has a throne to pass down to a child that’s going to live hundreds of years to make sure Mandalorians STAY united. They’ve got a lot of cleanup to do.

We didn’t need a goodbye because there wasn’t a goodbye to be said. And this is a slowburn I haven’t experienced in years.

[twinterrors29]

the Mandalore's Mask works like Doctor Fate's helmet

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION – PROMPT 6. HISTORIC PERIOD (REGENCY) AU

REX/FEMALE READER 💖🔥

WARNINGS: ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE INSPIRED BY THE BRIDGERTONS, REFERENCES/IMPLIED CLASSISM AND ARRANGED MARRIAGES. SMALL AGE DIFFERENCE MENTIONED (nothing happens until reader is an adult). PERHAPS SOME HISTORICAL INACURANCIES. THIS ONE'S ALL FLUFF AND A BIT OF SMUT IN THE END (virgin reader). No name of female reader is mentioned, but I kinda needed to give us a surname, so we're lady Everhart now.

This one is SO long y'all! I still wanted to publish it under one single post, so I decided to name each part so you can find it easier if you can't read this one in just one go.

Read below the cut!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

PART 1. A HELPING HAND

In a society were appearance was almost as important as reality, your family stood at the very top of the piramid. It made walking around town without being recognised an impossible task; but your life has always been like that. Since you were a small child, mother and father have always reminded you to behave as if there were more than a pair of eyes studying you. People in Mandalore –and in any other country, for that matter– like to speculate and gossip; more so in the higher classes, and people tend to be specially critique and less permissive with those who hold more money or power than them, perhaps because of simple envy. And your family is very envied; but also well respected, and some are –daresay– even fond of you three, because for all the money you have, your family has always been polite and considerate. A small donation was made each year to the local orphanage and hospital. Those who worked for the family were never mistreated; and though your parents may be strict to you, they are, generally, kind people.

You have always been a sociable, friendly girl anyways –while also a tad shy at the same time–; so all the recognition doesn't bother you that much, and you make your way to the town's florist with a happy spring on your step, smiling and answering greetings, and even stopping for a quick chat with one or two fellow mandalorians, if only for courtesy. You've just celebrated your twelfth birthday; and for the first time in your life, your parents have allowed you to visit the town center without them. Without their guiding hand. Of course, you are still in the company of your chauffeur –who has been asked to make sure you remain safe and doesn't let you walk more than a few steps ahead of him–; but still, the ilusion of a bit of independance is thrilling.

You've had a nice stroll through town; stopped to have a taste at your favorite bakery's delicatessem and decided to finish the visit adquiring some beautiful flowers for your mother. You have a hard time choosing; they are all their own brand of magnificent, and you've always been just a tiny bit undecissive. You finally end up buying a stunning arrangement of purple Limoniums and daisyes; a few magnolia leaves in between to act as a background for the main artists. Purple is your mother's favorite colour, and both of you share a love for flowers and other flora. Your favorite spot at your family's main estate is probably the gardens; where you like to read or sketch.

It is upon the short walk back to the horse carriage in which you came in when you recognise someone else. The oldest of the Fett girls –Ashoka, if you rememember well– is holding a conversation with the only descendant of the Krells; a family almost as rich as yours but nowhere near as charismatic. You quietly observe the interaction; quickly reading between lady Fett's frown and her pursed lips. You can't blame her for not doing a better job at masking her disdain. You haven't really had the chance to personally talk with sir Krell yourself; but you have been in the presence of his parents –Marie and Pong– several times, and it has never been an exciting experience.

Your own frown can't help but make it's way through your face when you see the man closing his hand around lady Fett's wrist; the older girl –she should be fifteen or sixteen, you suppose– visibly unhappy about it. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decide to step in. Ashoka and you are nowhere near as friends. You've barely exchanged more than passing greetings with her; but you have often watched her family from affar –it's inevitable to feel curious, if only because for how many Fetts they are– and they had always been perfectly polite and kind. You can see she is on her own today as well. Perhaps you're exagerating the situation, but just in case, you'll offer her the chance to flee the scene.

"Lady Fett!" You bring a pleased expresion of surprise to your face, coming to a slow stop besides her. Your chauffeur waits patiently for you a few steps behind, giving you some space. "Oh, this is such a wonderful coincidence! It has been so long since we last had the oportunity to chat with each other... I was just on my way to the carriage that will take me back home. I'm not sure if you came here on one of your own, or if you have finished with whatever has taken you to center town... But I wonder if you wouldn't mind sharing mine on the way back so we could use the time to get reaquainted?"

You'll give her some credit; her blue eyes –a unique trait of hers, since none of the other Fetts share that eye colour– only widen fractionally for a second before she's following you on your made-up excuse, smiling instantly.

"Lady Everhart" Ashoka gives a tiny half nod half bow in courtesy, which you replicate inmediately. "A wonderful surprise indeed. It is a brilliant idea, it would be wonderful to get reaquainted. Are you in a rush, dear?"

You can almost imagine the silent conversation between you and the older girl's eyes. You fake a bit of hesitance and worry and gesture towards the arrangement still in your hands.

"Oh, I'm afraid so! You see, I had just bought this beautiful flowers for my mother, and I worry they'll go to waste if I don't put them in water soon. I hope it doesn't pose a problem if we retire now?" Then, you turn your body to fully face sir Krell and smile sweetly. "I really am sorry for cutting your meeting short, my lord. I hope you find kidness in yourself to forgive me".

There's really no such thing as kidness in the Krell's name; but the man knows a lost battle when he faces one, so he gives you a forced smile back and makes a small gesture with his hat.

"It is already forgiven, my lady" is his polite answer. "I wish you both a good rest of your afternoon".

He shoots a last lingering glance at lady Fett before he courtesys again and retires. Ashoka lets out a sigh of relief and you smile gently at her, gently redirecting her towards your carriage.

"Follow me, lady Fett. Our transport is just around the corner here".

It's only until you're both sitting down in the carriage and you've given the chauffeur instructions to make a stop at the Fett's estate when the young woman finally allows herself to fully relax and alludes to the situation you've helped her escape.

"I can't thank you enough for that, lady Everhart" she starts. "Lord Krell doesn't appear to understand the decline of an offer when he hears it".

You wash it off instantly; and though you've always felt irritated by the general gossip, you can't help but ask her directly.

"Please forgive me for inquiring, and do not feel the need to answer if you'd prefer not to... But I assume he is interested in courting you, then?

Lady Fett sighs again; an exasperated one, this time.

"He has always paid... Particular attention to me, yes. The fact that I will have my presentation in society next year seems to have duplicated his efforts, no matter how clearly I've shown my desinterest. You would think he couldn't get more obnoxious than he normally is; but oh, believe me, he can".

Ashoka's eyes widen again, almost as if that last part was blurted out and caught even herself by surprise. You certainly weren't expecting it –people are always so carefull with what they say around you, perhaps afraid of offending you– and you laugh and giggle at both her comment and her expresion. Seing at how you're not bothered at all, lady Fett chuckles quietly as well, though with a tint of embarassment on her cheeks.

Both of you have a nice chat while the carriage takes you to the Fett's. This is the first time you've really interacted with Ashoka; but you take an instant liking to the older girl.

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PART 2. TEA AT THE FETT'S

When lady Fett invites you to a cup of tea upon arriving to her house, you're unable to say no to those big blue eyes of hers. Ashoka really is a beautiful girl; with incredibly long, almost white hair that ends right past her hips, and that bronze skin inherited by all the Fetts. She has a small nose and plush dark lips; and a wide smile that stretches from side to side of her face. She's not as tall as her brothers. Where they have wide shoulders and a strong build, she's more on the leaner, agile side; but you can definitly see the resemblance between them. Now, the similarities between the Fett boys themselves... That is astounding; other mandalorians often joking about their parents having somehow pre-selected the same looks for all of them. As far as you know, there are two girls and eleven males in the Fett family; ages ranking from twenty-six to eight. The fact that so many children had lost both their mother and father –the first during labour, the second one in war barely a year after her death– was terribly saddening. At least they all seemed to be a loving family, support each other; and they were doing well.

To your relief and joy, Ashoka inmediately asks a maid to find a place for the flowers you've bought to remain watered and safe; and so you're able to follow her through her home without worrying about them. You curiously study the rooms as you walk by them; never having visited the Fett's before today. Wether your family ocuppies the top of society's piramid, Ashoka's family stands on the bottom part of nobility; though your parents have always been fond of the Fetts and that same distant but sincere fondness seems to have passed onto you. Most of the other higher families share the feeling; the Fett name is undeniably linked to a long list of brave soldiers and warriors, and Mandalore takes great pride on its army. If you remember correctly, only one of the Fett boys has followed an alternative path; Kix, who must be just a year older than Ashoka, and has been recently apointed as the town's doctor new apprentice.

Lady Fett guides you to the gardens; and inmediatly upon stepping outside, you can hear laughter and different sets of voices calling to each other and half-shouting. You quickly find out what's the funny scene. One third of the Fett boys have their eyes blindfolded while they try to catch the second third –and Omega, the youngest of all at only eight– with their hands; while the last small group of them watches the scene a bit further apart, sitting down around a small table and enjoying conversation over tea.

Ashoka shoots them all a smirk.

"I see you're all entertained" she comments, making herself known, and the Fett's sitting at the table all turn around to happily greet her.

You stand a few steps behind her, still watching the game with a tiny smile on your face.

"Ashoka! You're back earlier than we expected" Gregor –third oldest– frowns and worries. "Is everything alright?"

The older girl steps aside so you're in their line of view as well and gently beckons you to her side. You focus your attention back on the gentlemen.

"Yes, thanks to lady Everhart. She just happened to pass by and aided me at escaping sir Krell's hands".

Quiet groans and mutters spread through the table, and you have to reign in the need to laugh. Apparently, the rest of the Fetts are as irritated by sir Krill as Ashoka herself. You see some other more serious, clenched jaws as well. You should have guessed this soldiers would be particularly protective of their sister.

"Lady Everhart" the oldest of the brothers, Cody, inmediately stands up to greet you, and you give him a small courtesy in response. "Your presence is more than welcomed into our home. Would you like to join us for tea?"

You nod politely at the offer, shyness mixing into your feelings. After all, you're in a house full of strangers; you'll need some extra time to feel more comfortable around them.

"Thank you, Sir Fett" you quietly answer. "If you're sure I won't interrupt..."

Cody waves a hand in nochalance.

"Of course not, please" he turns and gestures for you to take place in one of the spair chairs.

You elegantly sit down, mindfull of your dress, and Ashoka takes the spot besides you. You smile amicably to the rest of the Fetts.

"Evening, sirs" you greet them, receiving a wave of choruses back.

Cody sits down again as well.

"You'll have to forgive the noise, lady Everhart. Sometimes finding new ways to entertain Omega and Tup can get to be a bit too much".

You read the underlaying wariness and worry under his words and their facial expresions; and so, you answer with an unbothered, sincere smile.

"It poses no problem at all, sir Fett. I wish I had someone to play with me like this when I was a child. It looks like fun...".

There are some relieved smiles and smirks in response to that; and soon you're inmersed in annecdotes and stories about Ashoka's family, the atmosphere turning less formal and more relaxed with each set of chuckles and laughs.

A general picture of the Fett's starts to form in your mind. Commanders Cody and Wolffe are the oldest ones; followed closely –just by one year apart– by Gregor, and then sargents Rex and Howzer. The twins, Fives and Echo, stand at the middle of the bunch; Kix being the last adult of the Fett siblings at seventeen years old, just one year above Ashoka. Jesse and Dogma are fourteen and thirteen, respectively; and then you have the youngest siblings at last, Tup and Omega, with ten and eight. It is clear they all love each other just the same.

For all their physical similarities, their personalities are vastly different. Commander Wolffe is the most intimidating one of the group; his few interventions almost coming off in quiet mutterings and irritated snaps. He's still polite and it's clear he's just as caring towards his family as Cody; he's just a bit more rough around the edges, perhaps as a result of his experiences at war. You try not to glance twice at his eyepatch.

Cody has all the qualities of a good father; since he had to basically take the roll of one. He's firm but patient; and has impecable manners. Gregor's character seem to be less sharp and more openly friendly; the kind of person who'll make anyone feel instantly at ease.

Kix and Gregor seem to be the more affectionate of the bunch. You can't make a picture out of Howzer because he really doesn't interact much; you suspect he's a bit on the reserved side.

Rex is like a mix of everyone; he's similar to Cody, holding that same self-confidence and firmness, while holding Kix and Gregor's warmth –even if he shows it in a quieter, more subtle way–, and adding a bit of the twins traits.

Fives is one of the most straight-forward people you've met; while also being the chirpiest –for a lack of a better word–. He's all bright smiles and cheekiness, jokes and laughs; it's hard to picture him in battle with a personality like that, though you have no doubt he makes an excellent soldier. Echo is a quieter version with much more irony and sarcasm.

Observing the rest of the younger siblings playing, you can tell there's a bit of brotherly rivalry between Jesse and Dogma; the first one acting more carefree and mischiveous while the second follows rules to perfection. Tup and Omega are just inocent sweethearts; the boy more shy and the girl more curious. You're surprised at how fast you've managed to catch everyone's twist; how much their differences shine.

The rest of the evening passes by; and it's soon time for you to return home –mother and father might start worrying now–. You say your goodbyes to the family and Ashoka guides you back to main entrance; a maid quickly stepping forward and politely reminding you of the flowers you left in the vase before. You wait patiently for her to bring them to you. It is on that short wait when Sargent Rex and Omega make their way to the staircase; and the maid reappears with the stunning flower arrangement. The youngest of the Fett's makes a surprised sound while she changes the direction of her steps.

"Oh, wow!" She exclaims, eyes wide open, aproaching slowly with his older brother at his back. "I've never seen such vibrant purple flowers before!"

You smile and show them to her; Omega peering curiously and glancing up at you as if asking for some sort of explanation.

"This ones right here are Limoniums" you point, voice soft and gentle. "They come all the way up from Naboo, and it is said they represent hope and beauty. And you probably recognise the daisies. Did you know they're often used in medicine? They help wounds heal faster and reduces inflamation".

Omega looks at you in surprise.

"Really? I should start to collect this then, I'm somehow always falling around!" She blurts out, making the three of you chuckle inmediately.

Rex squeezes her shoulder affectionately.

"It would help if half of your games didn't require you to wander around with your eyes closed, 'Meg" he points out in good humour, and you smile wider at Omega's response and pout.

"But they're the most fun..."

Sargent Rex chuckles and nods in acceptance.

"Okay, okay".

You glance at the flowers and back at the eight year old girl. You quickly make a decision and hand them to her.

"You know, it's a rocky trip to my family estate and I wouldn't want this beautiful flowers to go to waste. If you promise you'll take care of them, I'll leave them here under your care".

Before any of Omega's siblings have had the chance to shut the offer down for her, the girl is already jumping up and down in excitement.

"Oh, I promiss I will! Thank you!"

She quickly takes them in her hands and approaches the maid again, gesturing happily while the woman tags along and indulges her while they walk away. You smile so wide your cheeks hurt.

"That was a very nice gesture" the sargent comments, Ashoka nodding in agreement. "Which unfortunately means you'll return home with your hands empty. Are you sure you don't mind?"

You shake your head to the sides, still smiling honestly.

"We're not lacking flowers at home" you shyly joke. "And I have a feeling my mother wouldn't have been as enthusiastic as Omega. I can always buy another one for her."

A pair of days later, a similar purple arrangement is delivered to your family estate; a small card that signs "the Fetts" with a slightly messy scribble that you suspect is Omega's masterpiece. The detail brings a fond smile to your face.

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PART 3. THE RACE

Hera Syndulla has always been your best friend. Her family had moved in from Ryloth decades ago –and mandalorians were not exactly welcoming to strangers–; but the Syndulla's carried a good name and fortune with them, so your grandparents –you never had the chance to meet them, for they had died long before you were born– had all but encouraged their friendship. Your respective parents had therefore grown together; so it was only natural that the two of you, both girls that were used to attend the same social circles, happened to grow close as well.

You're on one of those socially aceptable entertainments today; the anual horse race in honor of the Cuy'val Dar; those who no longer exists with us. Hera is right by your side on one of the stands; both of you chatting excitedly and making comments about the form and beauty of the horses or the rumoured ability of their jockeys. Spring has just arrived to Mandalore, and the weather is specially pleasant today; every man and woman taking the chance to show their best attires and dresses, transforming the public stands in a wide spectrum of fabrics and colours. You've chosen a light blue for today; where Hera wears her classic lime green dress, one of her all time favorites. It compliments her well.

Still talking with your bubbly friend, your eyes flicker distractedly over the rows of fellow mandalorians; taking in known faces and spotting other unfamiliar ones here and there. It is in that lazy scan around you when you lock eyes with a set of almost golden ones on the stand next to yours; and your attention inmediately zeroes there. Rex Fett smiles politely and makes a greeting elegant gesture with his hat towards you; never ceasing to talk with the gentleman at his side –Sir Skywalker, you believe–. You return the courtesy with a slight, almost imperceptible blush to your cheeks. You've heard that Rex has been promoted to captain –while the twins had just finished ARC training–; and you know you're not the only fifteen year old that has been thinking about the handsome soldier lately. You've heard other girls your age –and older– gossip about him; and about how dissapointing it is that he never takes another woman other than his sister to dance. You've heard a bit of resentment and venom in those words too, as well as another few ill-words; but you have no doubt Ashoka's brother had tried nothing but letting them down gently, never intending to humiliate or hurt them. And you're confident that he doesn't give in because he thinks better of himself than those who had insinuated anything close to interest. By what you can remember of him from that one ocasion at the Fett's and the very few interactions between each other through the following years, he's nothing but considerate and gentle. Perhaps he hasn't indulged another woman before because he hadn't been particularly interested and he didn't want to consciously play or hurt anyone. It is unusual; but you respect that.

Unfortunately, all that rambling inside your head makes you lose the trail of your conversation with Hera and your friend quickly notices why; pointing it to you with an amused smile.

"Ah, so I finally learn what is your type, then..." she comments, voice humourous.

You tear your eyes away from the captain and look back to Hera; uncontrollably blushing harder at her unexpected and very direct comment.

"I have said no such thing" You answer, perhaps with a bit too much emotion for that comment being far from the truth. "Besides, Captain Rex is a few years older than me. It isn't like that. Why does your dirty mind always have to jump to that?

Hera laughs.

"Alright, alright. No need to act so offended, my lady" she jokes. Her bright green eyes flicker upwards behind your back. She then grins widely. "He just glanced back at you again, by the way".

Your face twists in surprise, and you carefully take a glance back as well; finding him completely absorbed in a new conversation with a readhead that can only be Lord Kenobi. You frown in confusion, and your friend starts cackling quietly. You look in her direction again and quickly understand it was her way of proving her point; and you have to roll your eyes and chuckle inevitably. Hera is a little sneaky thing.

When the race is announced to be about to start, and the jockeys may ask for a token of a lady of their choice to bring them luck, both you and Hera are truly surprised when Lord Vizla asks you for your handkerchief. Pre Vizla is only three years older than you; however, you've never really interacted with him and he definitly has never shown anything akin to interest before. But there's eyes on the two of you now –unbekownst to you, Rex's as well–; and he's from one of the most powerful families of Mandalore, so you smile politely and hand it to him.

Lord Vizla ties it to his wrist and smirks; and you can't help but think he's a different kind of attractive as well. Ah, hormones really make a young woman's body and mind a mess when they're fifteen.

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PART 4. THE BALL

You're seventeen; and a few months after your birthday, right at the beginning of the summer, Mandalo'r Kryze organises the anual royal ball for all men and woman of your age to be presented into society.

Saying you are nervous would be an understatement. This is no ordinary ball. You're aware of how much this ocasion could change your future; women in nobility marry young. Your soon-to-be husband could ask you for a dance today; or perhaps feel pushed to take you off from another gentleman's hands after this ocasion and pursue you in the ones to come.

You wait in line with the other seventeen year old girls –woman, now– trying to mask your nerves. Every single one of you are dressed in your finest attires. The dress you've chosen for this ocasion is a special emerald green with a lighter tone for the lace and embroidery; as well as the usual white elbow-length gloves and silver jewelry. The delicate tiara that holds your updo is lined with five small diamonds; another two teardrop-shaped ones hanging from each ear. In the space between your collarbones a heart-shaped emerald rivals for the attention of the dress she was sumoned to match with. Your tight corset and heels might feel uncomfortable; though you have to admit you've never felt better with yourself than when your mother had finally allowed you to look at your reflection before taking the carriage to the Mandal'ors palace. You've never considered yourself vain -there are so many other important qualities, after all-; but you had to admit you had felt relieved and satisfied with what you could see. You know everyone's eyes –and gossips– would be upon the group of debutants today; and you can't help but want to make a good impresion.

Soon, you're all parading down the marble staircase towards the salon that will hold the ball; and you promptly make it to your father for the first dance of the night, who gives you a little smile to reasure you and soothe your nerves. You gratefully smile back at him and prepare yourself for the first note of the violin.

All too short, the first dance finishes; and almost inmediately, the first brave gentleman of the night ask for your father's permision to substitute him for the next one. Your father nods and leaves you in his hands. You smile –a bit nervous still– at him before placing your hand on his arm and concentrating in the next set of steps. You don't personally know this gentleman; he's not unpolite, though he barely whispers a word to you either, and soon he is forgotten on the line of faces of good sirs you dance with through the night.

More or less at half of the songs list, Pre Vizla asks for a spot on your dance card; and you happily indulge him in one. You notice a few glances and whispers around you when the two of you make your way to the center of the room; but you make your best to ignore them and focus on the man in front of you. Vizla is impecably dressed. You can tell he has asked for Mandalor's best seamstresses for the way the fabric of his suit shines with the inflection of the light, and how well it fits him inch by inch. There's not a single wrinkle were it shouldn't be.

He's a good dance partner; he doesn't stumble, doesn't hesitate, and directs you over the floor efortlessly. He makes small chat with you afterwards, complimenting the emerald that hangs from your neck and the intricacy of your updo; and you can't help but feel flattered and excited about possible prospects with him. You know mother and father must be feeling satisfied and proud somewhere in the room, looking at the two of you.

After a brief uncomfortable incident in the following dances, you hear your name being called by someone standing behind you. Hera's eyes widen in shock in front of you; and you turn towards the voice with curiosity and intrigue upon your best friend's reaction. You can't help but gasp quietly as well, eyes widening too in honest surprise. In front of you is none other than captain Rex Fett; more handsome than ever with his light hair and amber eyes contrasting with the dark blue jacket of his formal attire.

"Lady Everhart" he calls you again, nodding politely in greeting, studying your reaction quietly. "Would you happen to have a spot on your dance card for me?"

It takes you a few seconds to react; and even then, you answer without thinking on how your sentence could be misinterpreted. You open your dance card and chuckle.

"I'm afraid I can't write your name in here anymore, sir Fett".

He's quick to mask his dissapointment; though you can see the hurt through his gaze. His eyes are so expressive; even if his face stays in polite understanding.

"I see. Well, I don't want to steal your time..."

You frown in confusion. Hera points at your dance card urgently at the Captain's back; and you suddenly remember your half blurted answer to Rex's invite.

"Oh!" Your cheeks redden upon your own embarassment. "Please forgive me, I forgot to give you the context for my denial. My dance card... Just happened to be monopolised by one gentleman in particular, who decided to take the pencil from my hands and write his own name in every single one of the dances left..."

You let him have a look at it and the man's expresion softens in understanding at sir Maul's –a very unpleasent, narcissist individual– messy caligraphy scribbled on every single spot on your dance card. You quickly show him a bright, enthusiastic smile.

"But even if I couldn't write your name down, it would be my pleasure to save the last dance for you" you accept, and the Captain nods, giving you a small smile before retiring to patiently wait for his moment.

As the night comes to an end, you feel more and more exhausted, energy slowly being drained; your feet hurt and you feel like you can barely breathe properly at this point of the ball. Some of the other debutants have left already, their dances completed; but there is only one more song you have reserved for someone, and so your eyes scan the salon to find him.

Captain Rex is chatting with Ashoka, her husband –another soldier for the Mandalorian army, you believe–, and one of his younger brothers –Jesse–. She catches your eye first; joy quickly brightening her features while she greets you all the way through the other side of the room. You smile right back at her with the same emotion bubbling inside of you.

The interaction pulls Rex's attention back to you; his eyes fixed on yours now, questioning. You nod to indicate you're ready for him and he closes the conversation with his family before making his way towards you. Your heart accelerates inside your chest. Your nerves had died out through the night until now; but you somehow hold a special kind of respect and admiration –and perhaps attraction as well– towards sir Fett, and you feel them return to you at full force. For how social you are and how you've been confidently behaving throughout the night, you now feel a bit shy. You're also aware that he doesn't usually actively participate in this kind of events; and the knowledge that he has decided to step in for you, that he might be interested in you in that way...

Rex seems to notice this, for he gently directs you to a less-centered spot for the both of you to comfortably dance along the rest; quickly trying to put you at ease by speaking of Ashoka -a common ground- and asking about your friend. The small chat is enough to help you keep your own nerves at bay in order to enjoy this last dance and not make a fool out of yourself.

And oh, how you enjoy it... There's something about Rex. Where with others -even with Vizla- you've felt evaluated, almost as if they were looking or at least paying attention -waiting- for an error on your part –both in the dancing and in your general behaviour or conversation–, the Captain makes you feel comfortable; almost normal. He doesn't glance around the room. His eyes don't flicker to the top of your breasts under the excuse of admiring your jewelry or dress. They stay focused on yours; such an undivided attention making you feel flustered and warm at the same time. He's a perfect gentleman; and when the dance finishes and you talk some more with him, it feels like he's really listening, and not politely waiting for you to end your phrase before redirecting the conversation to something more of his interest.

A few minutes later, your mother smiles at you and makes a small subtle gesture with her head towards the door; and you know it's time to go back home. Rex nods in agreement; his amber eyes momentarily glancing upwards towards your hair.

"Lady Everhart, before we take our different ways, I wanted to compliment your..." he momentarily hesitates, or perhaps gets lost in his words, and you try to finish the rest of the sentence for him with a kind smile on your face.

"Let me guess... You admire the complexity of my updo? Or the elegance of my tiara?" you smile knowingly.

It's what most of the gentlemen have commented about; along with your necklace and dress. Mother had really helped you to pick the best choice.

To your surprise, Rex shakes his head, focusing on your face again.

"They're beautiful, of course... But that wasn't my first thought of the night upon seing you" he answers politely, then almost quietly whispers, warmth in his eyes. "I wanted to compliment the beauty you are yourself. You look lovely today, if I may say".

"Oh" your cheeks are on fire after his answer, and you swear you almost feel the butterflies moving inside of you. "That's so considerate of you to say. Thank you, sir Fett. If I may... You... You look lovely as well".

Your eyes take sudden interest in the floor in front of your feet; and the captain chuckles quietly, thanking you for your kind words as well before taking your hand in his and giving your dorso a kiss in a heartfelt goodbye.

"I shall let you return to your family, my lady. Perhaps we could see each other soon in a less crowded setting".

You see the way he's calmly observing your reaction now; trying to figure out wether you'd be truly interested in that or if you agreeing to dance with him has been nothing more than kind politeness.

Not knowing exactly what to say, you give him a shy nod and hope he can read it all in your face.

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PART 5. RIVALING SUITORS

The next couple of days are nothing but hectic to the Everhart family. Your worries of not having made a good impresion in the royal ball are inmediately washed away when letters and gifts start to arrive to your estate at your name. Your mother is almost as excited as you; while your father just observes the situation with a mix of pride and melancholy. You know it's difficult for him to get used to the fact that you're not a small girl anymore; that you may get married soon and leave their home. You try not to dwell on that fact either; even if you're excited about all of this, it scares you too. Thankfully, you still have a sociably acceptable couple of months before taking any permanent decision.

Pre Vizla gifts you a delicate piece of jewelry each time you both meet. First it's an amethyst bracelet; then a new set of diamond earings -this ones in a perfect rounded shape-, and finally a tiara of small, beautiful emeralds that he points would match perfectly with the one you wore in a necklace for the royal ball. You thank each one of them with a smile and honest gratefulness; and when others are gently led down either in person or by letter, Pre Vizla stays on the top part of your favorite suitors. He's consistent in his interest.

You had been initially somewhat dissapointed to find out Captain Rex hadn't been along the ones who had sent you a gift; thinking he might have changed of opinion and he was no longer interested in pursuing you in a romantic way. But a week and a half after your presentation in society, your father tells you Sir Fett has reached out to him via correspondence and that he has set up a date for the two of you to pass some time together -with your maid as a carbine, of course-. The hope that you had pushed down inside your chest reignites ten times stronger; and when the day arrives and he greets you with a purple flower arragement you know well, your heart melts.

"I wish I would have known your favorites so I could get them for you" he says, voice and eyes warm and honest. "But if I recall correctly you were fond of Limoniums and daisies as well".

It moves you; the fact that he hasn't chosen any random flowers or the most pricey or classical ones, but an arrangement he knew would mean something to you instead. It moves you; the fact that he remembers -or has bothered to learn- even the names of the flowers as well.

You show him a smile so wide and bright it hurts the side of your cheeks.

"My favorite ones are pink lilies" you tell him softly. "But this is an excellent choice as well. Thank you, sir Fett".

Rex nods and the rest of the afternoon flies by. You find yourself completely engrosed with him.

The next few weeks your mind and heart are pulled into two different directions. Pre Vizla and Rex Fett hold your complete attention now; and your days pass meeting with one and the other, trying to find out who you like best and who would be a better match for you. You have trouble deciding. Both gentleman are excellent suitors; and each of them have their own qualities. Your heart is more partial towards Rex; while your mind tells you Vizla is best. You start to feel stressed. You don't want to regret what probably is the most important decision in your life; but even your parents are shooting you that "you have to chose sooner or later" look now.

Perhaps noticing your rollercoaster of emotions, Pre invites you to a picnic in his family estate. You are thankfull for the change of scenery; you've always liked nature and spending time under the sun -though your mother has always reminded you to protect your skin from it since you can remember, pointing out that developing different tan spots wasn't very lady-like -. You talk with sir Vizla for an hour -listening attentively- before he suggests a small boat trip. Mandalore has several lakes; and the Vizla family had built their mansion centuries ago right besides one of them. You nod and follow his directions excitedly; the only chance you get to be near the water is when Mandal'or Kryze organises a summer evening for all society to attend to -as the palace is built next to the biggest lake of Mandalore as well-, and that won't be until a week's time.

Pre pilots the small boat perfectly; rowing efortlessly to take the boat further into the lake -not too far away either- before leaving both paddles inside and re-starting the conversation. Your attention is split between the view and him until the wind pushes a dandelion in front of you. You smile and innocently try to catch it, enthraced; not noticing how the boat tilts to one side dangerously with the suden shift of your weight. Vizla has barely had the time to shout out a warning before the boat is completely tilted over and you're both plumeting into the water.

You gasp and resurface with a cough; a mix of surprise, understanding, and embarassment showing in your face.

"I'm so sorry!" you inmediately say, fighting against the weight of your now heavy dress to keep your head afloat while Pre quickly takes hold of the boat and miraculously manages to scramble back inside of it.

He mutters under his breath, soaked, and carefully tugs you back to safety.

"Didn't you realised what was going to happen?" is the first thing he says that you can actually hear. "What were you doing anyways?"

You play with your own fingers in uncomfortable guilt. Pre's face is set on a deep frown –lips pursed–, and experimenting obvious irritation and anger.

"I was trying to catch a dandelion" you whisper quietly, shivering now that the wind plus your wet clothes are really making the cold noticed. "It's supposed to bring you good luck for a whole year".

Vizla scoffs and tries to re-arrange his expensive and very wet attire into place. He lowers the paddles back into the water and asks you to sit back down –carefully– again.

"We should get back inside and warm up if we don't want to catch a cold" he states, starting to row again, voice cold and condescendent. "Next time think better of what your actions may cause before ruining a day for such childish reasons".

You nod in silence, lowering your head. Your eyes remain focused on your own hands for the rest of the trip. You feel horrible; though you don't want to cause a scene on top of everything, so you swallow every emotion down until you're safely tucked that night in bed. The next day, you receive a letter from Pre where he apologises for reacting so harshly in spite of the wrong of your actions. He sends flowers with it this time –red roses–; and it makes you feel marginally better.

You fear for the situation repeating itself. Just one week later, as usual, Mandal'or invites all nobel families to an evening by the lake, and several boats are available for those who want to take them for a stroll with their companions. The weather is warm and sunny, and everyone seems to be in good spirits for the ocasion. You have only been talking with Hera for a few minutes when the Fett family joins you; and shortly after, Rex asks you if you'd want to spend some time together in one of the boats. The unpleasant ending of your last date with Pre Vizla quickly crosses your mind; but you don't find it in yourself to say no to those warm amber eyes, so you accept.

Rex steps into the boat first, politely extending a hand towards you to help you jump inside. You give him a cautious smile and take him on his offer. He carefully tugs you towards him; and soon you're sitting down in front of him, boat slowly moving towards the center of the lake. Other couples around you share the same idea. Everyone seems to be having fun.

The accident with Vizla never leaves your mind. Suddenly, you find yourself asking and thinking on how would the captain react. Would he get angry as well? Roll his eyes in exasperation? Perhaps clench his jaw and reign in his condescendant words? Or call you out loud on it? It's all you can think about; and you feel the absolute need to know this. Mother had told you years ago that marriage wasn't all attraction and butterflies; that small fights and disagreements were common too, part of a married couple's life. When you had once asked her if she was happy wtih father, she had replied with words you'd never forget; "Yes, my flower. Your father and I may not hold the most ardent love for each other; but we take care of the other's well-being. We find common ground in our arguments; we try not to take each others small mistakes too seriously. If you want to be happy one day, my little flower... Chose the one that knows how to laugh at inconsequent things and let them slip away instead of quietly punish you for them". You hadn't quite understood those words then; but you think you do now, and you feel the unstopable urge to know this about Rex.

You make the same error; knowing perfectly well it will end with the two of you falling into the lake. This time you're expecting it and you surface faster, quickly taking a deep gulp of air in and blinking the drops of water away from your eyelids; eyes holding the Captain's confused, worried ones.

"Are you okay?" He asks inmediately, one hand taking hold of the edge of the boat before gently helping you to reach over as well. "What happened there?"

"Sorry" you whisper guiltily, cheeks heating up in embarassment even if this was your plan all along. "I... Wanted to catch a dandelion. It's supposed to bring you luck for a year".

Rex blinks in surprise. Then, he chuckles quietly and shakes his head; drops of water flying everywhere from the movement of his short hair. You study his reaction in silence; almost waiting expectantly.

"I'm sorry" you tell him again, glancing away in convincing acting. "I know it's childish".

A hand softly tilts your chin upwards; and Rex's warm voice soothes you instantly.

"Accidents happen. It's okay".

He's gentle and understanding from the way he talks and looks at you to how he carefully helps you back into the boat and tries to distract you from the incident. He even offers you the jacket of his suit so you can shield yourself from the cold with it. His reaction is so drastically different from Vizla's... Suddenly, you have everything clear. You don't want your husband to be someone you feel pressured to look and be perfect with; someone that makes you feel like you're under the magnifying glass, that you need to make an effort to be with them. Someone who doesn't really like to listen to your interests but expects you to pay full attention to his. Who is polite but cold. Who would criticise you at every mistake, demanding you to be better, instead of showing you understanding and support. You don't want a Pre Vizla; you want a Rex Fett.

After comforting a worried mother and father and a few more conversations with acquaintances and friends, the sun hides between the mountains, and it is time for everyone to say their goodbyes. You wait for your carriage in line in front of the Fett's; and you can't help but surreptitiously graze yours and the captain's hands together, shyly glancing back at him. His bright eyes are already set on yours. His hand twitches, and his fingers carefully and softly caress your skin; the slow gesture much more intimate and nerve-wracking with such an intense uninterrupted stare. Those eyes tell you secrets you had somehow been oblivious to until now. You know he truly cares about you; he'll treat you well.

After what feels like endless -and at the same time, too short- seconds, your fingers find reluctant distance. Before hoping up onto your family's carriage, you shoot a sweet hopefull smile towards sir Fett.

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PART 6. A YES

Two days later, your mother finally voices your parents concern. You're both in one of the small salons of the house; she's inmersed in a book while you draw and paint. The sun gives a soft warm glow to the room. Sparrows chirp outside. It's one of those slow, peacefull summer mornings; not a rush in sight.

An hour or two in, your mother abandons her reading, placing the book down on the small desk in front of her and turning towards you with a pensive expresion on her face. You sense the importance of what she's about to ask, and you set your pencil down, pausing your sketch.

"Honey..." she starts, voice patient and soft. "Have you decided yet?"

It sends your mind in a whirlwind. You have; but you're afraid of your parents answer, of what they'd think about it. What if they're dissapointed? What if they don't accept it? What if... What if they marry you to another anyways? The thought of being forced to live the rest of your days with another man sends goosebumps all over your skin. You know yourself. You're stubborn. Once you take a decision, it's almost impossible to make you sway; but you know that your thoughts won't matter if it came to that. Your father has the last say.

"I know who you'd like me to pick..." you answer quietly, nervously wringling your fingers together.

Your mother shows you an understanding little smile.

"But you like Sir Fett" she guesses.

Your heart is sent to a frenzy.

"Yes" you admit in barely a whisper, though it's a self-assured one.

Your mother sighs and takes your hand in hers; squeezing softly.

"My flower... The Vizla family shares a similar status to ours, and you'll never lack any luxury with them. Pre is also closer to you in age. Yes, I have to say he is who your father and I were picturing you with. But if you think you won't miss this things and your heart calls you to Captain Rex... Then you should listen to it. The small age gap might make some uncomfortable, but it's certainly not scandalous, and the Fetts are still very much respected here. Lord knows that that family has done more for Mandalore than the rest of us combined..." she gives you a tender smile and squeezes your hand a second time. "Do not fret, my flower. If Sir Fett is the one you'd like to marry, your father and I will support you on your decision".

Tears spring into your eyes; and you can't help but hug her tightly to yourself like you did when you were a child.

"Oh, mother... I will forever be gratefull to have such wonderful parents" you tell her sincerily.

She chuckles and gently presses your foreheads together in a Keldabe.

"Shall we then invite sir Vizla one last time, before we organize a dinner with the Fett's a few days after that?" she suggests, caressing your hair.

You nod excitedly.

Letting down Pre Vizla goes easier than you'd initially thought. You were a bit afraid of him reacting too strongly and somehow criticise you for your decision, tell you you'd regret it; he doesn't. Perhaps he had realised you weren't what he was looking for either. He takes the notice well, and is surprisingly neutral throughout all of your conversation with him. Not that it would change anything by this point; but it confirms you you're making the right choice. He doesn't seem to care wether he's with you or not; you'd rather be with someone who did.

It makes you feel so relieved. When your parents invite the Fett's over for dinner a few days later, and you see Rex for the first time since privately taking your decision, you're so happy it almost feels like you're shining. Your smile is radiant throughout the whole dinner. You're chattier and bubblier than usual; and you can't stop glancing at him. He's so handsome, with his light blonde hair deliciously contrasting with his bronze skin, the warmth and intensity of his amber eyes, his strong nose and jawline, the shape of his body in those elegant blue clothes... Rex catches you quietly admiring him, and he tilts his head to one side curiously. You blush inmediately, and that gives him the answer to what you were really thinking. He smirks in a satisfied, seductive way you haven't seen in him before. The sight sends warmth and desire through your veins.

"Honey, why don't you take our dear Captain to visit the gardens?" your mother asks after dinner has finished and you've all moved to the salon. "Ashoka, dear, will you go with them? We'd like to have a word in private with Commander Cody here".

Your pulse quickens. You know your parents will take this moment alone with the head of the Fett family to discuss wedding arrangements.

Both you and Ashoka nod at her suggestion; and the three of you walk towards the gardens, Rex and you falling into a comfortable conversation while Ashoka follows you a few steps behind. Rex offers his arm to you; and you give him a little smile while you place your hand around his bicep. He asks you about the flowers around you and you lose yourself in your knowledge about them, explaining their origins and properties and pointing at your favorites here and there.

"Pink lilies" he remembers, pausing in front of them and examining the colorful flowers with a fond smile on his face. "I should have guessed you'd have your favorites here as well".

He bends down to further study them; and you can't keep it to yourself any longer.

"Captain..." you breathe out delicately, instantly calling his attention. "I... I..."

He patiently waits for you to finish, eyes holding a mix of curiosity and hope that makes your heart clench. This is it. This is your future husband and you... You can't be happier about it. He's so gentle, so considerate, so kind; attentive, confident, and oh, so handsome...

You muse up your courage and finish the sentence for him.

"I ended Sir Vizla's advances a few days ago. I'd like to accept your proposition of marriage, if it still stands".

Surprise is what his face shows first; then, it quickly morphs into happiness and tenderness. His eyes hold more warmth than ever before when he releases a pleased sigh.

"Oh, mesh'la... Of course it does. It would be an honour to be able to call you my wife".

The way he looks at you makes your heart burn. Your cheeks heat up while he closes the distance between the two of you; your eyes sparkling with eagerness when he slowly and very gently cups your face between his hands.

"May I kiss you?" He whispers quietly, eyes flickering down towards your lips.

You melt at this; your hands carefully making their way towards his shoulders.

"Please" you quickly accept, tilting your face up for him.

He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs softly before he slowly closes the distance and presses his lips against yours; a small, delicate first kiss. You sigh in delight and your body relaxes onto his; one of his strong arms reaching down to hold you against him while the other hand tugs you closer to deepen the kiss. It's unhurried and gentle, but passionate at the same time; it makes your nerves tingle and your desire to grow as seconds pass. He kisses the way he is; soft but firm, considerate but demanding. You forget your own name, your mind emptying at the attention of his lips.

When you're both forced to stop to breathe, Rex smiles and rests his forehead on yours, pushing gently. An involuntary smile makes its way to your face as you answer him fondly.

A sudden enthusiastic voice breaks the delicate silence of the night.

"Alright, can I hug you both now?" Ashoka almost jumps in excitement, coming to a stop besides you. "This is the best news, I'm so happy for you!"

Rex grins and you chuckle happily. You pull Ashoka into a welcoming hug; Rex observing with a fond smile.

Ashoka replicates Rex's euphoric grin.

"Oh, I can't wait to see our brother's reaction!" She chirps, almost bouncing excitedly.

You laugh and tilt your face up to look at Rex again. He gives you a tender smile before affectionately kissing your hair.

"They've been hearing me moping around talking about you since we started courting" he tells you quietly, chuckling. "I think they deserve to know".

You take the courage -and liberty- to tenderly caress his left cheek with your fingertips. To your surprise, a faint blush spreads through the captain's cheeks. It brings a soft smile to your face.

"I like your family" you admit to him, watching the positive impact your comment has on him. "You can tell them as soon as we get back, if you want".

When you return to your family house, a nod and a grin is all it takes for everyone to start celebrating and giving the both of you their best wishes and congratulations. You tightly hug your mother and father first. Then, you're swiped in a Fett hug; first by Fives -definitively the most loud and openly enthusiastic one- and Echo -who is more quiet but equally happy about it-, then Kix, Howzer and Gregor -Commander Wolffe had stayed back at home with the rest of the younger Fetts-. They're all so welcoming and truly happy for his brother and you, that you can't help but think you'd be the luckiest woman in the world if at some point in your life you'd be able to have your own family half the affectionate than his.

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PART 7. UNION

Your wedding looks and feels like a dream. It's a big celebration; society would talk about it for weeks, and your parent's don't skimp on expenses and don't dissapoint the high expectations everyone has on one of the richest families on Mandalore. Even Mandal'or Kryze is present with his shiny beskar'gam; the greatest honour one could only hope for, really.

When the golden doors opens and your father guides you to the royal armorer that will officiate the wedding, you discover that your soon-to-be-husband is also wearing his. Rex's armour is the 501st legion's blue; bucket clipped onto the belt that holds his kama. A rush of pride spreads through you at seeing him all soldiered up like this. Mandalore has always given great importance to akaan'ade -army- and aliit -family-; and you're about to form a new clan with him.

The hall that holds the wedding is nothing short of magnificent; flowers decorating every corner and cristal chandeliers demanding attention here and there. Half of nobility is here; as well as all of Rex's brothers and sisters, and other more distant relatives. Hera stands with his too soon-to-be-husband -a coruscanti named Kanan Jarrus who had quickly swiped out any other possible competition for your friend- behind your parents. And yet, even with all of this, your sole attention is focused uniquely on Rex.

His amber eyes are almost shining in the light of the salon. His posture is firm and self-assured; though he relaxes slightly upon seing you entering the room, a tender smile inmediately drawing in his handsome face. Your eyes never leave each others until you're both standing in front of the armorer and he starts the ceremony.

You're only a tiny bit nervous when you recite the mandalorian vows in front of everyone. You're confident on your decision; your heart atuned with Rex's. Hearing him saying those vows warms your insides; and when you turn to look at each other again, afterwards, you feel like you can't keep all your emotions at bay. Your eyes crystallize, but you don't let the tears fall down your face. Rex gently cups your cheeks in his rough hands and join your foreheads in a delicate, heartfelt Keldabe kiss. The public starts clapping -and there's some whistling and cheering probably coming from Fives, if you had to guess-; and soon you find yourself in the middle of a hundread of congratulations and small repetitive chatts here and there.

You progressively grow more impatient and nervous the longer the celebration extends. Finally, some hours later, it is time for the newlyweds to head to their new residence; and mother and father both say their goodbyes for now while Rex helps you step into the carriage that would take both of you to your new home -a gift from your parents, one of the Everhart's properties-. You had once been there before; when you were smaller, a child, on one summer vacation. You remember the house -and the landscape around it- being beautiful, and not too far away from the rest of the town by horse.

Neither Rex nor you can keep your hands to yourself in the short trip there. He asks to kiss you as soon as you're both sitting down on the carriage, away from others gossips and gazes; and you inmediately grant his wishes, nodding and surrendering to his lips. It starts slow and soft; but when he moves his peppering kisses from your face down to the curve of your neck, a small pleased sound of yours sets him on fire. He goes back to your lips, kissing you with more passion and impatience this time; and you cling to his shoulders with your fingertips, tilting your face upwards for him to take and take. He has you reduced to a whimpering, hot mess in just a matter of minutes. When his hands temptatively graze the sides of your breasts, you can't help but arch and whine over his lips. Rex groans and presses his forehead against yours, panting out of breath.

"Sorry, mesh'la" he whispers, voice lower than usual. "I know this is not exactly apropriate, and I probably should learn to be more patient... But Manda, cyar'ika, you're such a pretty sight I can barely contain myself".

You blush and close your eyes, breathing in and trying to calm your speeding heart in this Keldabe. You give him a smile.

"It's okay, ner riduur. I understand".

Rex groans again and squeezes his hands over your hips.

"Stop tempting me like that" he mumbles staring at your lips.

You chuckle quietly.

"I'm not!" you happily laugh.

Rex steals a quick kiss. He nuzzles his nose with yours affectionately.

"Totally are".

You laugh and kiss him again. You'll soon become addicted to it.

That first night you're a mess of excitement, nerves and worry. Of course, you've never been intimate before; and the thought of not looking good or doing something wrong scares you. Rex notices this as soon as you start playing with your own hands upon entering your new bedroom; and gently soothes your worries. He softly tells you there's nothing you could really do wrong in your bed; that he just wants to share his affection with you, to touch you, hold you, make you feel good, and that he doesn't expect anything other than you enjoying yourself. The fact that he tells you, in his wedding night, that you don't even have to have sex with him yet if you're not comfortable and that perhaps you'd feel safer once you'd shared some nights or weeks just innocently sleeping with each other melts your heart and makes it easier to push through your initial discomfort and give yourself to him.

You're almost constantly burning in half embarassment half shyness throughout the first half of it. You're relieved to see that the rush Rex seemed to have back in the carriage has dissolved now; he's patient and gentle, telling you what to do and what to expect, and the way he encourages you and talks you through everything is one of the most unexpected sexiest things you have ever heard.

He undresses you slowly, caressing the naked skin that shows with reverent fingertips; shivers running up and down your legs and spine. He kneels down on the floor to help you step out of your heels. You brace yourself on one of his shoulders; and he gently, sensually kisses your thighs and knees. He looks up at you while he does it, and it makes you weak.

You make a soft sound with your throat; and Rex smiles. He stands back up again and tugs your chin between his thumb and index for a long kiss. Now just in your white underware, you shiver involuntarily; pressing your body against his without even noticing what you're doing or asking. He sighs and softly redirects you towards the bed til you're sitting on it.

In front of you, the handsome captain opens the seals of his armour and plate by plate stacks it on the floor besides him. His movements are slow and confident, while his expresion vulnerable at the same time; and you watch him, enthraced. He tugs the long sleeved black shirt of his blacks over his head; and your eyes freely roam through each muscle and scar revealed,devoring the sight in front of you. Your core burns.

"Rex..." you call him, almost in a begging tone.

He breathes heavily and takes a few steps towards you until he's standing right in front of you; his legs caging yours -pressed together impatiently-.

"Yes, mesh'la?" he asks you patiently, gently, and you squirm right where you are.

"I... I..." you want to tell him everything. Want to let him now how beautiful he is, how much you want him, need him. How he's making you feel. How happy you are of now being his. How excited you are of your new future together. You want to tell him this and more, and yet, you can only try to convein it together in a heartfelt, teary "More".

Rex smiles fondly, one hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"Let's get this off of you, cyare" he whispers, and soon you're completely naked in front of him. "Lay down and open your legs for me, darling".

You blush and comply in silence; breathing heavy and eyes locked on Rex.

They inevitably close when he hops onto the bed as well, knees on the space between your legs, and his mouth latches onto your neck, sucking gently at the skin; shifting to a new spot after a few seconds to not leave too many marks on your neck. Then, his mouth trails a wet path towards your breasts; and you whimper while he plays with them, both with his hands and his lips, moaning and arching towards him when he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple. You tug at his short hair and push your body against his.

"I have you" he whispers, his kisses trailing down your sternum and stomach towards your hips. He caresses your sides with his fingertips. "I'm going to kiss you here, okay?" he says, one hand grazing the inside of your thighs and swipping against your growing wetness carefully. You whine and squirm below him. Rex pecks your hip bone. "It will probably feel good, but do tell me if you want to stop or don't really like it".

"O-okay" you stutter, and Rex then pushes your knees further apart, getting comfortable between your legs before he's kissing you there, where the fire grows and burns, and you tense momentarily before you're transforming into a puddle next. "O-Oh... Oh, Rex..."

It does feel great. His wet tongue slides between your folds, caressing you gently, coming up to tease your nub from time to time. He's slow and cautious at first; amber eyes looking up at you and checking your reactions attentively. Once he sees you're really enjoying yourself, and your hips start to squirm impatiently under his attention, he groans and closes his eyes, working his tongue over and inside of you and relishing in your moans and taste.

"R-rex" you call him, feeling a wave of pleasure slowly growing inside of you.

He hums and slowly pushes a finger inside of you; just holding it there while you whimper and clench around it. It's only a finger, but it already feels so good, so much. Your inner walls hug him involuntarily again, and he groans thinking on how that would feel on him.

"I... I'm..." you try to tell him barely a few seconds after that, your mind too lost in pleasure to find the way to word it.

Rex kisses you one last time before he's slowly pumping his finger in and out of you, golden eyes searching you. Understanding, fondness, and desire are mixed in his gaze.

"I know, cyar'ika. Just let go for me" he encourages you, mantaining eye contact while he opens his mouth again, sticks his tongue out, and gently and firmly strokes your nub around with it.

"Rex!" you moan his name, your hand flying to his hair while the other closes around the bedsheets, your pleasure exploding in a million of nerves and colours. You squeeze your eyes shut while you throw your head backwards, core clenching around his finger, orgasm spreading through your body.

Rex smiles proudly, lapping your aftershocks and then kissing your pelvic bone affectionately. His cock is throbing inside of his pants; and he can't help himself and push it down against the matress, trying to find some relief.

"Shh, just like that" he pecks you a few more times, left hand caressing your hip. "You're beautiful. I've got you, cyare".

You relax against the bed; and Rex pulls his finger out of you, carefully moving upwards until he's laying down on top of you, slotted between your legs. Your cheeks redenned upon feeling his bulge pressed against you; but your core tightens again, and you bite your lip with a new wave of want and desire rushing through your veins.

"You okay?" he asks you softly, caressing your cheek and searching for the truth with his amber eyes.

You smile at him.

"Yes" you answer honestly, pecking his nose before confessing in a whisper. "I've never felt that good before, not even when I've... When I've tried finding pleasure myself".

Rex's smile can only be defined as a radiant satisfied grin.

"Well, I'll be happy to make you feel good whenever you want, mesh'la" he answers, and you both chuckle quietly.

You kiss him again.

"Rex, I..." you're shy, and you don't know how long it will take for you to share your more or less dirty thoughts freely with him.

Fortunately for you, he guesses them quickly.

"You want more, cyar'ika?" he asks, gently moving his hips on top of yours and giving you both some very welcomed friction. "Want to try taking me inside of you?"

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod. Rex kisses your forehead and stands up on the floor, getting rid of his pants and underware. You watch -half hungrily, half scared- at the way his cock bobs.

"Will it hurt much?" you ask hesitantly.

You've heard so many different things about sex you no longer know what to believe in.

Rex smiles at your innocent question. His hand slowly comes down to stroke his lenght twice.

"It's different for everyone, or so I've been told... Usually it can hurt or at least be a bit uncomfortable at first, yes. But not too much; not if the man knows to wait and cares about the woman's well-being. And I care about you, mesh'la" he soothes you, looking at you fondly. "I'll move very slow until i'm seathed inside of you. And if you need to stop at any point and just breathe and get used to it for a bit, you'll tell me and I'll wait. Okay?"

You let out a small breath of relief.

"Okay" you agree, gratitude and affection swimming inside of you at his consideration and words. "Thank you, Rex".

He pecks your lips and then re-acomodates your body under him; pushing your knees wider to the sides and bending them so he has better access to your entrance. He taps his weeping hardness against you a few times and slides his length over you, hand cupping the side of your face, giving you time to get used to the movement and both of you being this intimate. The friction of his cock feels delicious over your slippery folds; and you tilt your hips towards him, asking for more impatiently. Rex smiles and nods; one hand dissapearing between your bodies to position his hardness right over your entrance; the very tip grazing your hole.

"I'm going to start pushing inside" he warns you, voice calm, and eyes locked on your face. "Tell me if you want to stop, mesh'la"

You nod eagerly. You've never had sex before and yet you feel like you'll die if you don't get to have him inside of you in the next few minutes. You want him that much.

His cock pierces you; and you can't help but clench tightly arround him, eyes falling shut with a pained whimper. It feels so big; it feels so full, so much.

Your whole body has tensed; and even if you don't say anything, Rex stops pushing in, and kisses your cheek.

"Okay?" He asks, waiting patiently. His forearms are braced on either side of your head, holding his weight.

It's only when he stops when you notice how strong you're sinking your nails into his shoulders; and you instantly stop clinging to Rex, guiltily.

"Sorry" you whisper with shattering breaths, overwhelmed. "So..."

Rex smiles softly.

"You can do that if it helps you cope with this new feelings better" he gently pushes his forehead against yours. "I don't mind".

You sigh and your hands make their way back to the back of his shoulders; this time with your fingers splayed over his warm skin.

It's only a matter of time before you've grown used to it; and the short scare resulting from the pain and the novelty of the situation receeds. Rex finishes slowly pushing all the way in; and the next minute is passed between kisses and caresses. Then, Rex starts to rock his hips gently; your mouth hanging open in a mix between confusion and pleasure and just the tiniest bit of pain. His patience pays off; soon even that dissapears, and you're left feeling nothing but overwhelming joy.

"Please" you moan, tigthening your hold on him.

Rex groans and snaps his hips against yours. You whine and ask for more of those.

"Don't want to hurt you" he mumbles, half lost in pleasure and desire, half concerned.

You pant bellow him.

"Please Rex" you beg him, half lidded eyes swimming in ecstasy. "Give me more please, I'm okay..."

Rex squeezes his eyes shut and moans, giving up on his self control and speeding up his movements, tugging your hips to his and pounding inside of you so deep and raw it turns your voice into a constant whimper-whine-moan-silent open mouth cadence.

You lose all concept about time and outside reality while Rex fucks you like this. His cock sliding inside of you feels incredible, and so does the friction of his pubic bone over your nub; bringing you closer and closer to a second orgasm. Rex pants over your lips, ocasionally stealing and demanding a kiss or two, hands alternating between giving him better suport over you or moving to caress your body and face or squeeze and hold your breasts. You arch and present all of yourself for him to take. And he does it expertly; hips strongly snapping against yours and pushing you into a mind-blowing orgasm that has you clenching your walls tightly around him.

"F-fuck!" He curses for the first time, and watching him lose his composture with you is one of the greatest gifts. His breathing grows heavier, and his movements sloppier. "So close, so close, so close" he chants, brow furrowing, and you kiss him passionately while recovering from your own rush of pleasure.

"Let go, ner riduur, finish with me" you whisper to him, cheeks on fire but wanting to help him find his culmination as well.

Rex whimpers; then groans, tenses, and cums. You feel his warm seed inside of you; the knowledge making you clench and squirm. He sighs and drops his now relaxed body slowly on top of yours; breathless. With his eyes closed and a happy satisfied hum, he nuzles his face against your neck.

"Forgive me for not finishing outside" he mumbles after some seconds of peaceful comfortable silence. "We haven't even discussed children before".

You chuckle and caress his spine with your fingertips. Rex nuzzles closer, almost like a puppy. He's so affectionate after this.

"It would be nice to have a few months to adapt to our new joined life before starting to try" you admit. "But if I happen to get pregnant before that it wouldn't be a big deal. I'm very fond of you already, and I know our children would want for nothing. And I want to have a big family".

"Like mine?" He asks, resurfacing from your neck and leaving his face inches from yours now.

You laugh quietly.

"Mm. Well, I think you're a bit too many for my taste" you smile, and before the hope is able to melt away from his eyes you add "But I think we could stop at half".

Rex grins. His softening length is still seathed inside of you, and you can't help but think on how this feels even more intimate than the whole ordeal. Somehow, your perception of the captain has changed as well; you feel closer to him now, he feels more familiar to you. You notice he looks younger right now; and even more attractive in his disheveled state.

"Six is a good number" Rex agrees, kissing your shoulder affectionately. "I'd be worried if you'd have to go into labor more times anyways".

You remember the fate of his mother; and you hug him tightly.

"I won't leave you" you can't help but whisper to him.

Rex sighs and kisses you softly before staring into your eyes. It feels nice, being skin to skin.

"I think I could be very happy with you" he confesses, the moment turning vulnerable and delicate. "I'm enthraced with you already; and I think I might be half in love with you too".

You blink your tears away.

"Don't get me emotional now, sir Fett" you say in good humour, then leaving jokes aside and caressing his cheeks fondly. "I think I might be as well, Rex".

Your lips join again, and a fullfilling sensation of peace melts each of your muscles into a puddle of relaxation and happiness. Rex finally slips out; but he doesn't move away or grow any colder towards you, carefully finding a place to lay comfortably in bed besides your body instead and affectionately tugging you closer.

You go to sleep feeling safe and happy; and the next morning, when you wake up before him and watch Rex sleep peacefully and naked in front of you, with the sunlight giving a warm glow to his beautiful brown skin, you can't help but caress him and think with a smile on your face that you definitly made the right choice. You softly kiss his lips; and he sighs contently before squeezing your body closer to his, humming affectionately.

"Good morning, riduur" he greets you, eyes still closed and voice full of sleep.

You lay down with him and relax again.

"Morning, mesh'la".

You find your courage easier today; and you're rewarded by the small shy smile on his still tired face.

If last night and this morning are any indication of how the rest of your married life with Rex Fett would go, then you're sure you'd be the luckiest woman in the world. But even when it isn't –for a long marriage rarely doesn't face problems and disagreements– you're happy knowing that your riduur is someone who you can talk and work with; instead of against.

THE END.

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Taraaa! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU'VE THOUGHT! This one took so long... And seing others reaction really helps me feel motivated to keep publishing. Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated too!

With this work we have the third prompt completed for the 100 followers celebration –you can read the others in the masterlist below–. 7 left!

I'll be writing the PORNSTAR AU with HUNTER next, and so many more, so stay tuned!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in anything. Remember you can find this set of stories under the tag "100blueprompt" or "100blueceleb" !!

Xx,

Blue.

Main masterlist (so many other sw stories) here: