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#Boba worked for the empire. Fennec did the same
drunk-on-starlight · 2 years
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Y'know we've honestly reached the point where bo katan is probably the least morally fucked up person on a show. Incredible.
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tarre-was-right · 1 month
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ROUND ONE: MATCH-UP FOUR
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Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.
Explanation post
Seeding
Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!
BOBA FETT
Anon: Boba The Builder, can he do it? Boba The Builder, yes he can!
@spacetime1969: He grew up in the political game that is the criminal underworld and managed to out manuver all the other groups on Tatooine to take control of the planet. That's not something you can pull off without political and tactical skill.
Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: - Boba Fett was explicitly raised by his father, past Mand'alor Jango Fett, to be the legacy of his own adopted buir, Mand'alor Jaster Mereel; while this training did seem to focus more on the bounty hunting and mercenary aspects of their work, it presumably included many lessons about working with people and negotiating, both of which would come in very handy - Boba is commonly held to be a classic example of a child who grew up in a cultural diaspora, feeling largely disconnected from his Mandalorian roots; given the climate on Mandalore after the Galactic Empire glassed it during the Rebellion Era, his experience is likely representative of many of the surviving Mandalorians, who likely also grew up away from their traditional homeworlds in the sector, possibly even in hiding as in the case of Din Djarin's Covert - speaking of Din Djarin, the strong respect between him and Fett would likely put Fett in good standing with those traditionalists, who would similarly respect Fett's connection to their people as the son of a Foundling, even if he wasn't raised the same way as them - in Legends, Fett's connection with Goran Beviin and his family really brought him more fully back into Mandalorian culture, and in a way that makes a good story to sell to reporters (and readers, breaking the fourth wall a bit there, lol) - finally, Boba DID become Mand'alor in Legends continuity, and one that seemingly enjoyed popular support!
Anon: You know what? Boba Fett was given a bad hand in life. He’s done some bad things. But you know what he’s shown? Drive. Commitment. Determination. Resilience. Willpower. And a shocking refusal to die when he’s gone up against bitches badder than himself. Thats more than some Mandalorian leaders can say for themselves. He keeps going. And it’d be funny. Here IS how Jaster can still win. - Also I think that he would be pretty chill. Cody prolly couldnt be. We’ve seen him rule a city, maybe questionably.. but he was hot doing it. Fennec would probably help him and she’s hot too. Din would prolly be good with it. Cody’s last experience ruling was being involved in the empire and witnessing a horrible execution after negotiating a surrender. He prolly wants nothing to do with it now. And good for him! Let!! Cody!!! Retire!!! This isn’t a popularity contest.
Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: Boba Fett literally was the Mand’alor in legends, and he did a pretty fine job
COMMANDER CODY
Anon: Propaganda for Commander Cody: - Cody was a student of Alpha-17, who in turn had been personally trained by former Mand'alor Jango Fett, giving him a strong training lineage claim to the title - Cody's service as Marshall Commander in the GAR gave him a lot of the diplomatic, organizational, and military experience needed to govern a planet like Mandalore
@spacetime1969: This man has led more people at once than anyone on this list.
Anon: Cody should be Mand'alor because it would be unspeakably sexy
@cha0s-cat: Cody has experience with negotiating from accompanying Obi-Wan, he leads a massive amount of his brothers already. Can recognize when there is a need for negotiations vs a need for violence. This would balance out the majority of the two factions (pacifists/traditionalists) excluding the extremists on either end. And with the amount of chaos that he has to deal with when it comes to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this would probably be relaxing.
@skykind: - Has resisted facism and its attendant police/military state at great personal risk (Bad Batch 2.3), which is apparently necessary to successfully govern Mandalore so long as Death Watch is fully armed and also backed by someone more cunning than their usual leadership (Clone Wars 5.15). - Possesses exceptional leadership and organizational ability from his time as one of the highest-ranked Clone officers of the GAR. The Clone Wars and Bad Batch narratives furthermore present him as Obi-Wan’s peer, so he should be interpreted as equally skilled, wise, kind, and unhinged-in-battle as Obi-Wan. Jury’s out on the sarcasm. - Turns to diplomacy before fighting (Bad Batch 2.3). - Has caught a Jedi’s lightsaber mid-battle at least two times (Clone Wars 1.20 and Revenge of the Sith). This is a very useful skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who keep chucking the darksaber about. - Has returned a lightsaber to a Jedi at least two times. This is a crucial skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who should stop selecting said leader via darksaber acquisition.
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padawansuggest · 2 years
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Rex: *after showing up to Tatooine and listening to Din and Boba’s exploits to clean up the planet again* Wow. A… kryat…
Boba: *suddenly on edge, putting a protective hand on Din’s thigh where Din was taking up Fennec’s usual spot on the arm of the throne* What’s wrong with taking down a kryat? Thing of legends, really.
Rex: *sadly shaking his head* Sorry, that wasn’t anything against it itself. They go wild and eat whole towns when left alone, it’s just pest control.
Boba: But it upsets you?
Rex: …I think I know the Krayt you’re talking about. It was necessary, it just explains why Cody was pissed about Kenobi crying around the same time that happened.
Din: Kenobi and Cody… are some of the ghosts that come to meditate with Grogu a couple times a week?
Rex: Yeah. Kenobi wasn’t really so upset, but I think he still had a lingering bond with the beast. They’d worked together for the rebellion for years.
Boba: …excuse you, did you just imply the rebellion had a kryat dragon working for them?
Rex: No no, Obi-Wan worked for the rebellion. He was asked to kill the dragon a bit after he settled on the planet, ended up making a force bond with her. She let him harvest the pearls in her nest and he kept her well fed without needing to hunt. I guess he didn’t realize after he died she’d have to hunt on her own.
Din: …why did the rebellion need kryat pearls? I know they had enough money for the most part.
Rex: …they weren’t to sell. Obi-Wan used a seer’s chamber to figure out where Jedi in need of a pearl were in the galaxy, sent them on with the materials to build their own saber.
Boba: You can use a dragon Pearl in a saber?!?
Rex: Yeah. With the Death Star in construction it was almost impossible to get kyber. Kryat pearls made a good replacement, and Obi-Wan had a tamed dragon. I know he sent one to the princess, and it’s in her saber now, Vos was his usual contact because he worked with the underground that connected children to capable fighters that could train them. They’d get their saber materials and train with their new master.
Din: Are you. Fucking. Telling me. I didn’t have to look for a Jedi. I just needed to find the underground so I could give Grogu a master there?
Rex: Absolutely not! That little boy loves you more than anything, Djarin! The underground is for training those who have no other choice than to run from the empire to survive it. Your child chose you over training.
Din: Fuck this, I’m getting Kenobi to tell me where to find another pearl, I’m getting my kid a shiny hittin stick. *stomps off to the nursery to try and contact the dead*
Rex: …hmm… he’s fun. Careful, Kenobi will try to adopt him.
Boba: *grumbling about a man with a Mandalorian fetish never leaving them be*
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skellymom · 8 months
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thoughts on the new bad batch trailer?
(i saw it had come out thru @techs-goggles9902 and couldnt be bothered to watch it for hours and now i have im so excited)
~ Jamie <3
youtube
Heeeyyyy, @fionajames <3
I just posted a spoiler...looks like someone is back w/their brothers...*cough* Mosshair *cough*
Please take my analysis with a grain of salt as Disney can post flashback scenes, scenes that might look to be part of a whole sequence but are two separate/several ones to throw us off. Plus these is plenty that they AREN'T probably including in the trailer. Should be interesting if there will be a second trailer for S3.
I don't see too much serious evidence that outwardly points to Tech. HOWEVER, I do see two "maybe" possibilities in the trailer and they are both wearing helmets:
Timestamp 1:03, The "X" Clone Trooper shown in the second half of the trailer. Now I have seen one trooper who unalived himself in the last season w/Senator Chuchi and Rex, so we know there are clones still actively working for the Empire. And, if you look REALLY close, Timestamp 0:36, there are more X Clone Troopers in the trailer scene right before the one w/Omega getting scanned. It's a shot from the top of the room showing what looks like 3 X Clone Troopers and a droid. Could one of them be Tech? Don't know.
Timestamp 1:14, The scene with the Imperial armored soldier in the cockpit of his ship lifting his left arm up. Did Tech steal a stormtroopers armor to save his brothers? Remember Tech's "hand signal" callback to S1? Is he signaling to The Batch? Or, also in Tech fashion, is he flailing because of an explosion as Tech sometimes does? Or, is it just a random stormtrooper and not Tech?
Looks like we get Fennec, Rex, Echo, Phee, Howzer, Cad Bane, Ventress, Palpatine, and Scorch.
The scenes in the trailer that REALLY has me scratching my head:
Timestamp 0:28 shows an Imperial Transport ship crashed and smoldering on a large hill. Is it the same ship from Timestamp 1:07? Faraway shot of several figures walking away: The one at the top of the hill looks like Omega. There is a figure either rolling down the hill: Wrecker? Although, silly me who works with dogs...it almost looks like a dog running down the hill. And a figure at the bottom that I at first thought was Crosshair...but then it kinda looks like Rex with the shadowy person walking next to them on the other side. It looks like Phee's hair. Or did this ship only carry Omega as seen in Timestamp 1:23? Did she meet someone on the planet to help her hide? Someone with a dog (I just remember the wonderful scene with the space puppy licking Omega's face and how happy her laugh sounded)?
Timestamp 0:33 is that Crosshair in the left hand side of the screen walking calmly in the opposite direction (that everyone else is running)? Is he settling a score? Is that Clone Trooper "X" (possibly Tech?).
What does the "il" uniform patches on each side of Omega's shoulders mean. I checked the Aurebesh language keys online. Doesn't match up with anything.
Who is CX-1??? Timestamp 1:15. Boba Fett????
Timestamp 1:21, who is the dude in the white and grey armor??? Wait...OH SHIT...is THAT WOLFFE???
I DON'T trust Emerie. She's creepy. Sorry. Not all the clones are tight with one another. I worry she's in secretly with Hemlock.
Are Fennec and Cad Bane working with The Batch? Or against them? Is Ventress teaming up with The Batch against Palpatine? Or is she truly fighting them at the end? Or is that just two separate scenes meant to look like they go together?
And, something that makes me sad: Both Hunter and Wrecker look older, more aged. They are still so handsome. However, with the stress of what they have gone through, plus their advanced aging...well, how long do they have left? The still of Echo doesn't look like he aged at all. Could it be that he isn't as accelerated due to what the Techno Union did to him? Or were The Batch genetically altered to be so specialized...but live even shorter lives than the Regs?
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burnwater13 · 7 months
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Boba Fett and Din Djarin protecting Mos Espa from the Pyke Syndicate. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar from DataWorks.
If there was one thing that made Grogu happy about all the adventures he’d been on recently was that he had found a Mandalorian who acted more like his dad than those other Mandos. Boba Fett wasn’t trying to lead and just giving up. Nope. Not him. According to Fennec, Boba Fett never gave up on anything or anyone. 
Grogu smiled thinking about that. His dad was just like that. Din Djarin didn’t give up. He didn’t sit back. He didn’t pout. As least he didn’t pout about work going sideways. He pouted a lot when Grogu just happened to have gotten mud on his armor or maybe left a bag of dung worms in the N-1 a day too long. Wow. Grogu could feel that pouting in a real way.
Aside from the unexpected outcomes of playtime, Grogu knew that when his dad was faced with adversity, the Mandalorian just became more determined to see the task out to the end, bitter or otherwise. 
“Well, my young friend, Mandalorians know more about adversity than most people you will ever meet. Certainly an individual may have a life filled with conflict an pain. But few other peoples have been so singled out for such universal treatment. I suppose it was because they were too good.”
Grogu perked up and paid more attention to the Daimyo. He had really just been looking from one man to the other. He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t actually even made a peep, coo, or grumble. For a change of pace he had been simply silent. 
“Your face is very expressive. Particularly your eyes. I have been told that they are the same color as your father’s, as mine match my father’s.”
The Daimyo smiled at him and looked both proud and sad. 
“You rarely mention your father. Was he a bounty hunter?”
Din Djarin asked the question quietly, as was his habit within the throne room. 
“He was. A Mandalorian bounty hunter who was taken advantage of by the Old Republic and the Jedi Counsel. You know about the Clone Wars?”
Grogu nodded his head. He, personally, would have liked to have forgotten about them, but when someone like Moff Gideon spent time tracking you down, you couldn’t forget about anything that caused the fall of the Old Republic or the rise of the Empire. 
“I do. I know about the Separatists. I know that the Jedi were involved. By the time things were at there worst I was already on Concordia. The Mandalorians who trained me did not speak of it, except to say that it was a fool’s errand and no good could come of it. They were right about that, given how it ended.”
Grogu was surprised that his Dad didn’t sound as annoyed, bitter, and, not quite smug, but more aggrieved, than he usually did when this topic popped up. Perhaps he was striking a more neutral tone because of the affect that whole sequence of events had on the Daimyo. 
“They were right. But it did not start that simply. You know the Jedi have visions. There are those who say they can see the future. That ability served them poorly. They recognized that they might one day need a fighting force. One that was much larger than the Old Republic kept on hand. So the project on Kamino was started in secret.”
The Daimyo took a deep breath and Grogu almost told him that they could skip the story and go fishing if it all hurt him too much to think about. 
“I am fine. I have lived with many painful memories and their pain did not lesson because I ignored them, my friend. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. You cannot have a fighting force without the people necessary. But where would you get such a force? The Jedi knew too much and not enough. They went to Kamino, as the Kaminoans were well known for their skills at cloning, and found a willing partner in their enterprise. For a price. After that, they just needed to find a template. Clones were used for many things back then, young one. Whatever task a business might need to perform but they did not have the staff, they would either assign to droids or to clones. If you had enough funds they would rent a workforce to you for whatever specified period of time that you needed them. Then they were retired.”
Daimyo Fett laughed at that. 
“It sounds much nicer than it was, my friend. Retired is just a nice way to say that the clones were ended. They had no individual rights as they were clones. Not a unique person but merely a copy of a unique person. That is at least what they told my father and he told me. You see, when they began to look for the template for the Jedi’s fighting force they realized that they couldn’t clone a Jedi. Something about the Force affects the process. They never perfected it. 
Without being able to use a Jedi they came to the conclusion that the Jedi’s enemy would be the best source material and only one group of people had survived being the Jedi’s enemy for any length of time. Mandalorians. Funny, isn’t it? You and I and your father, we are good friends and not enemies at all. But back then heads were not so cool, on any side.”
Another deep breath. 
“My father, Jango, was an accomplished bounty hunter. Best in the galaxy according to the records the Kaminoans kept about him. They approached him and he agreed to be the template. Oh, it wasn’t quite as simple as that, but what a father tells a son may often be affected by sentiment. My father was a sentimental man. That is why I exist. You see, I am not his son in the typical way. I am his clone. A duplicate, you see. And for a time I had more than 3,000,000 brothers. They became the fighting force that the Jedi and the Old Republic needed to address the Separatists. Unfortunately for the Jedi they trusted people who should not be trusted. I say that not as their enemy, but as a student of the past. When you buy cooperation from people like the Kaminoans, you may discover it is as easily sold to another. Which they found was the case, much to their, and no doubt your, dismay.”
The Daimyo fell silent for a moment. Grogu didn’t know if he was doing that because he remembered how his own father fell or out of kindness to Grogu or kindness to Din Djarin. All three of them had lost loved ones due to the that conflict.
“I was able to escape. Take my father’s ship and leave those immediate problems behind, but I never forgot the stories my father had told me about being a bounty hunter. It had been a better life for him and I was determined to honor him by taking that up. It is hard work and not for the faint of heart. You must take a risk and work it all the way to the end. If you fail at it, well, the end is bitter and you are cold. Very cold.”
“Boss, are you telling sad stories again? The three of you look like something the rancor dragged into that enclosure it spends all its time in. Cheer up. It’s a beautiful day out. I am told that rain is in the forecast and you know what that means.”
Grogu jumped just like the Daimyo and his dad at the sound of Fennec’s cheerful voice.
“No Fennec. I do not know what that means. Enlighten us, please.”
“Flowers. Little flowers will pop up all over Tatooine. I’m told it’s beautiful. Isn’t that right, Mando?”
Grogu turned to look at his dad. He was about to scold him soundly, but his dad beat him to it. 
“It is. Very beautiful. If you start now, you might be able to collect enough to make a posey. I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would like it.”
The Daimyo burst out laughing and Grogu laughed with him. He didn’t know why it was funny, but he was glad to have the opportunity to laugh. Maybe this was how Mandalorians were able to survive so much? They never forgot the present, even when they were talking about the past. In any case, he coo’d to Fennec that he was willing to pick flowers with her, but he was too late. She had vanished as quickly as she had appeared just a few moments earlier. Just like the flowers would. 
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TheAwkwardAnglophile's Year in TV shows: 2022
It seems I've started a tradition, and even though I know only very few people will actually see or read this, it's still fun to put together. This is my third time doing this. Feel free to check out my lists for 2021 and 2020 as well.
My criteria for shows making the list is the show either aired new content in 2022, or I'd never watched it before. So, while I did several rewatches, those didn't count. Also, beware: SPOILERS ABOUND! Here's the list in alphabetical order:
Abbott Elementary: What a perfect little sitcom that just stormed onto the scene after so many beloved sitcoms had gone off the air the last few years. They deserve all the accolades! It is genuinely hilarious. Ava probably makes me laugh harder than any of them, and of course I'm here for Janine and Gregory.
Andor: Holy crap, I was not expecting to be drawn into this show as much as I was. What a brilliant deep dive into the Star Wars universe. So many layers and subtleties to it. Luthen's monologue BLEW ME AWAY, and I looooved the prison escape. You get such a better understanding of how terrifyingly far the Empire's reach went.
Baymax: I was expecting a full-blown series, so I was very disappointed to find only 6 short episodes that were only a few minutes long. However, it was more Baymax, which is always a good thing. I think my favorite was the episode Kiko, which had Mrs. Kim from Gilmore Girls (Emily Kuroda)!
Blockbuster: I know it got cancelled, but I actually kind of enjoyed it. It wasn't the best, but it had potential. There were a few genuinely funny moments for me, and I think the episode where they do inventory was my favorite.
The Book of Boba Fett: Ok, so I know there are a lot of Fett fans out there from the past 40 years, but I'm indifferent to Boba. But I found a lot to enjoy in this show. I liked watching Boba connect with the Tusken Raiders. However, the pacing and structure were terrible, Fennec was underutilized, and the Mos Espa "power rangers" left me scratching my head. The BEST PART of it all was the Mandalorian season 2.5 they snuck in there! Watching Grogu with Luke, seeing what Mando had been up to, and the most beautiful father/son reunion!! MY HEART. Sorry you got sidelined in your own show, Boba, but the Mando eps were WIZARD.
Call Me Kat: I'm still watching, still enjoying, but this show is kind of a mixed bag sometimes. I was not happy with how everything went down with Oscar. He was such a sweetheart! Am I happy Kat and Max have become a couple? Yeah, I guess, but I think it could've been done differently. Also, it won't be the same now without the lovely Leslie Jordan, RIP.
Derry Girls: Loved the final season. It's so quirky and fascinating and hilarious. The parents' high school reunion was absolute GOLD.
Dream Home Makeover: It's definitely one of those shows that you question why you're watching, yet you can't turn away. I don't want to like it. The couple is just odd together sometimes, and everything was shown out of order! One minute she was pregnant and then she wasn't, but then they'd go back to her being pregnant!
Emily in Paris: Season 3 was pretty good, although I found Emily a bit grating. I was worried they were going to make the whole season about her shenanigans working for both companies, but thankfully that got resolved quickly. Luc is still such a delight, and Sylvie has even grown on me. Gabriel and Alfie are still 🔥🔥.
Hawkeye: I watched this at the beginning of '22, so it's a bit fuzzy now, but it was enjoyable. Not quite at the level of some of the other Marvel shows (like Loki or Wandavision) but still pretty fun.
History 101: A fascinating little documentary series! I was hooked. Each episode was about a very specific topic and was brilliantly done.
Home Economics: This sitcom is pretty fun. I've always loved Topher Grace (although oddly enough I never watched That 70's Show 🙈), and he still nails awkward comedy. All the family dynamics are fun to watch, the kids are cute. And the Spiderman joke when they were at Disneyland had me ROLLING.
The Home Edit: I devour these episodes whenever they drop, and then I want to revamp my entire house, and life. I love organization, plus Joanna and Clea make everything fun to watch.
How I Met Your Father: I was SUPER skeptical about this one, and maybe still am a bit (HIMYM fans, you understand). But I ended up enjoying it more than I thought. I need to watch the last ep again to prep for the upcoming season 2, because I've forgotten a lot. I'm curious to see where it goes.
Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous: The last season was wild, and I COULD NOT STAND Kenji's dad. The woooooorst. Shipped Brooklynn and Kenji, and happy Yaz and Sammy found happiness together. The ending was very satisfying for everyone!
Moon Knight: Oh DANG, what a ride. So many moments I'm like, "WHAAAAAAT am I even watching?!" But it was a fun, trippy adventure, and Oscar Isaac deserves all the awards.
Name That Tune: Always fun. I slay at this game.
Never Have I Ever: I just LOVE this show. Season 3 was another stellar season, and I am still definitely Team Ben! That ending! And the show still makes me cry, especially the scene with Devi and her mom in the finale. 😭
Obi-Wan: I know this wasn't as well received as was hoped, but I enjoyed it. Young Leia was fantastic! Lola, too (I have adopted her in my club of beloved droids). The story worked, and the Vader/Obi-Wan showdown was pretty amazing. The last 20 minutes of the finale was just a giant checklist of fan service, but honestly, I'm not complaining.
Only Murders in the Building: LOVE LOVE LOVE. This show is so incredible, and season 2 didn't disappoint! It's smart, hilarious, and I love the intro music so much. The intros were actually made even better by each one being slightly different with something related to that particular episode.
The Orville: If this journey for The Orville is truly at an end, then they sent it off well. A satisfying ending. I think the supersized episodes didn't work as well as their punchier 40-minute eps, but man, when they go big they go BIG. Incredibly well done topics, and the effects! INSANE. I swear Hulu must have kept just dumping money on them, like "Go ahead and make whatever effects you want!"
Paper Girls: This was...weird. I went through most of this going, "WHAT AM I EVEN WATCHING?" Obviously I loved all the retro vibes, and I was curious enough in the story to stick it out, but that was about it. It got pretty dark at times, and I thought the language, while warranted, got excessive enough at times to detract from the story. Anyway, if they were trying to capture the magic of Stranger Things, it didn't work, and it got cancelled anyway.
The Rookie: MY HEART! MY OTP. MY BEST SHIP AND SHIPPING EXPERIENCE EVER. My obsession with Chenford has exploded even more, as any of my followers can clearly tell. I love Tim and Lucy SO MUCH, and watching them become canon has been INCREDIBLE. But also, the show itself has stepped up its game in S5. The plots are better, more balanced, and I love all the different relationships shown. Making Thorsen a regular was a fantastic decision. The social media team has been killing it. And the show has gained tons of viewers and fans. We are truly in the golden age of The Rookie.
The Rookie: Feds: I like the show, but don't love it...yet. Maybe I will? It is done well, but it's just there. I watch it when I get around to it. Garza and Laura are probably my fave characters. I do like Simone, but she's also a lot. And I say this only because it's the FBI and there must be some kind of dress code, she should probably cover up the girls more. I swear she's going to end up having a wardrobe malfunction.
School of Chocolate: Pretty fascinating little chocolate-making competition.
Star Trek: Discovery: S4 was kind of a mixed bag. I'm not sure it was as memorable as previous seasons. I hate Tilly left. I did like that there was a running thread throughout of identity and belonging, and mental health. My FAVORITE part was how they found a way to communicate with Species Ten-C. Some brilliant television.
Star Trek: Lower Decks: S3 was ok, not my favorite, but it's still funny. My fave moment actually came in the DS9 ep. The background swing music at Quark's is actually from a band that my mom does booking for, Denver & the Mile High Orchestra, and for other personal reasons I won't go into here, that moment meant a lot to me.
Star Trek: Picard: Insert Picard facepalm here. I wanted S2 to work so badly, and be amazing, and it just wasn't. I mean it had Q and time travel and all the ingredients for something incredible, and it still didn't work. It would take too long to hash it all out here, but if anyone wants to vent with me, I'm around. I am excited (and nervous) for S3, however! I hope they don't let me down.
Star Trek: Prodigy: I still love the animation, and the kids are fun. I'm gonna be real honest, though. I'm mainly here for Janeway and Chakotay, because no, I'm still not over how Voyager ended, and if an animated kids show will let me see more of these two, I will take whatever I can get.
Star Trek: Strange New Worlds: Before I go any further, may I just point out the amazing WONDER that FIVE different Star Trek series aired new content in 2022?! A new record! The Trekaissance is real. This show exceeded my expectations. It's so different, yet still so classic Star Trek style. The characters are great, and the intro is incredible! I cry at that intro. It's sweeping and gorgeous and ahhhhh.
Stranger Things: I've loved Stranger Things from the beginning, was excited for S4, but when I watched 4x01 I almost gave it up. It felt so dark and depressing, and the scene at the end was horrifying. I put it off for a couple weeks before deciding to try again, and I slowly worked my way through the rest of the season. There were still parts I couldn't watch (I really don't do horror, Stranger Things was always about as far as I would go, but then they really upped the horror in S4, much to my dismay), but ultimately I'm glad I did watch, although unlike the rewatchability of S1-S3, I'm not sure I can go through S4 in its entirety again. But there were some BEAUTIFUL moments we got, lots of laughs, lots of emotions. All the reunions in Vol. 2! El seeing Hopper again 😭. And my absolute favorite part...JOPPER IS CANON!!
Supermarket Sweep: Always a lot of fun. Sad that it won't be back.
Young Sheldon: It's losing steam, but I'm still watching. The whole storyline with Georgie has been interesting.
And there you have it! 33 shows in all, which is probably a record for me. Feel free to message me or send an ask if you want to further chat about any of these. If you read this far, YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR AND I APPRECIATE YOU.
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feltpool · 1 year
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Copyright cash grab
I think the thing that bothers me most about current Star Wars is that it lies so hard about what it’s really doing, like we’re not going to work it out anyway.
Fandom cannot create new canon, it can only work with what it has, open up the cracks, fill in the plot holes and put a new spin on things. But the show creators don’t have that limit, and yet have devolved to reusing the same old plot and structure we’ve seen before and hiding it under a different set of faces.
I suppose it’s meant to be clever, but fanfic has been re-spinning these stories for literal decades now so it just feels like a pallid and obvious cash grab as well as a way for Disney to lay claim to the older Lucas-made canon as now belonging to them.
Personal opinion and potential spoilers behind the cut
Mando spins its story around the core structure of the OT movies while doing its utmost to pretend that it isn’t doing that. Instead of starting with the feisty space princess whose home has been destroyed by the Empire it sneaks in via Solo and focuses on a lone gunslinger doing any dodgy job for money while throwing him about in the mud a lot, role flipping Yoda and Luke, and hiding it all under a layer of Mandalorian armour. But the constant references to other parts of SW get old fast, and they leap right in there from the very start regardless of people only majorly starting to complain about that from Season 3. It was always there, we just weren’t so overloaded by the constant stream of really obvious ones back in Season 1.
And The Bad Batch follows this exact same pattern, the only major difference is that it’s framed around the core plot of the prequel movies and overall tends to bury its true purpose under fewer Rebels references. Sure it’s tying up a bunch of loose ends from multiple seasons of TCW, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to like it.
Add to this the other shows that only got made in order to support these^ two shows.
TCW Season 7 sets up everything the other shows need to have already been established in order to work. The Bad Batch setup is established, Trace, Rafa, and their convenient little Coruscant hiding place gets laid down for later plot use, and the Mandalore arc sets up the rest.
Tales of the Jedi explicitly covers how Anakin treated Ahsoka behind closed doors and how he used others to actually carry that out so that it can be reused later. Amongst other plot relevant details it showed us the relationship between Dooku and Mace, how Dooku was pissed when Mace got a promotion he hadn’t even been trying to claim, and how Dooku was directly offered the chance to drop all of what he was doing and to walk away with the Jedi – and still chose not to.
Half of The Book of Boba Fett was just a dumping ground for anything that didn’t conveniently fit into either of the other two shows but that they didn’t want to leave out (you can’t claim copyright over something you haven’t put onscreen), and boy did it show that they didn’t waste any money covering that part if they could help it. Orphan Boba gets to re-enact Luke’s back story of getting and losing a new family out in the sands of Tatooine, while Vanth gets to lose his arm and get a robotic replacement, it covers the question of what happened once Jabba was dead, drops in a much cuter version of the scene where the Luke defeats the rancor, features a cantina complete with familiar players, and shoves not-Chewbacca in there because having a Wookiee in the main story would be way too much of an obvious nod to the OT setup they’re still trying to pretend isn’t happening. However, it was permitted to drop in a couple of future plot points such as what happens to your brain/memory once you get a deep tissue, full body, bacta treatment, and giving Boba his 3 seconds of playing both Solo getting thrown wetly around by a Wookiee, and the Emperor as he rescues Fennec from certain death by having her Vaderized.
In all fairness this has taken a certain level of effort to re-spin. Aspects of one movie or TCW have been given to the other show, roles have been split between characters to make things less obvious. Hunter gets Anakin’s wig, while Hemlock gets his hand, and Echo gets to play Vader but in reverse order (starting as a cyborg and not becoming one). Or things have been approached from a different angle (usually reversed), like how Bo rescues Din and Grogu from the dianoga pit on the boat instead of getting them into the garbage masher in the first place. Pieces have been recycled from all prior SW visual canon as well as many games, books, and comic books, in addition to many references to non-SW movies.
But some things have been lifted straight out of fanfiction. The outfit that Riyo Chuchi wears when we first see her in TBB mimics Fox’s armour as closely as it possibly can without actually being clone armour, and Foxiyo is a small ship that has zero canonical basis – so far at least. Not that this would be the first time that SW has blatantly ripped off someone else’s work for their ideas or spaceship designs, but being able to data scrape AO3 must make this a lot easier to do than back when you had to pay people to manually cruise the internet.
Whether the Ahsoka show will continue this pattern and frame it around the plot of the sequel movies while pretending it’s nothing more than Rebels Season 5 remains to be seen, but having Jacen Syndulla reframed as the new Kylo Ren is definitely nothing I will ever need to see.
.
Obviously I’m glossing over a lot of the finer detail and references here because I’d be here all day otherwise and I’m trying to limit potential spoilers.
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chadillacboseman · 3 years
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WUNDERBAR. Can we pls get some innuendo heavy flirting between Boba and a GN reader teaching him to ride his new Rancor 👀🙏
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Pairing: Boba Fett (post-empire) x GN!Reader Word Count: This...got away from me. It's like 2.5k. Warnings: Some fluff, some flirting. SFW tho Summary: Boba wants one of his most trusted employees to learn to ride the Rancor. A/N: Go easy on me for this first Boba fic lol. Hope I did this ask justice :( --
Working for Boba Fett wasn't so bad.
Jobs on Tattooine had been in a dry spell for decades- suffering from the effects of the spice trade and the cruel intentions of the local warlords.
The new daimyo was different than the ones who had come before him. He insisted that he intended to rule with respect, to prove his honor to the people of Mos Espa.
So far, that plan had not panned out. You had seen him attacked by assassins, beaten senseless by a wookie bounty hunter, and treated as a child by nearly every local.
That is, until the arrival of the Rancor.
The beast was impressive, even at its young age, delivered to Fett as a tribute by the Hutt twins. Its keeper was a haggard but kind man whose name you never came to know- he spoke of the beast as if it were a child, and treated it just the same.
Its arrival signaled a change in the tides for Lord Fett and his court- its enclosure was beneath the table where he held meetings with other rulers and rivals. At his signal, the beast would thrash at the metal bars in the floor, striking fear into their hearts until they agreed to the terms laid before them.
You were glad it was on your side.
Lord Fett had hired you to assist with diplomatic relations in the more remote regions of Tattooine- Mos Pelgo and the surrounding encampments. Occasionally you did business with the Tuskens or the Jawas when a protocol droid was available.
You found the Daimyo fascinating; the name Boba Fett had been but a whisper on the sands of Tattooine for many years, and when he returned, he was met with great skepticism from the locals. He was scarred almost beyond recognition, no doubt from the gnashing teeth and acid of the Sarlaac pit he had been entombed in.
His armor, however, was unmistakable.
You had seen it in the old holos- the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy, son of Jango Fett who had once held the same title. His face had been a mystery to many under the helmet, as he had so seldom removed it. Fett had abandoned that tradition, and you couldn't say you minded.
He was handsome, his rugged features only enhanced by the scars that covered him. You found yourself holding your breath when he approached you, tensing when he brushed against your shoulder or laid a hand on your arm while speaking.
Fett seemed to place a lot of trust in you, a fact that his right hand, Fennec, did not let go unnoticed. She was wary of you, always keeping her dark eyes trained on you as you milled about the palace. On more than one occasion, she voiced her concerns to Fett, who waved her away dismissively.
He often asked you for your opinion on local matters and public approval- you supposed that being a local yourself gave you an advantage in that category.
Once, when you were alone with him in the armory, you had mused that if you were an assassin, you'd have ample time to take him out.
"You know, you spend an awful lot of time alone with me," you had said with a wry smile, "if I was a hired hitman, I'd have plenty of opportunities to kill you."
"I know you're not," he had responded simply, too preoccupied with a holomap of Tattooine to meet your eyes.
"And how do you know that?"
"Because I trust you."
You supposed you trusted Boba Fett as well. He had taken good care of you, giving you a steady job with good pay and access to travel the planet like you had never done before.
Life was good.
--
"It's not that I don't trust-" Fennec sounded exasperated, you could hear the edge in her voice.
"Fennec, I've heard enough. Do not question my trust," Boba interrupted her curtly.
"I'm afraid your feelings are going to get you killed."
There was a long pause and you held your breath as you listened against the door of Boba's bedroom.
Feelings?
Eavesdropping wasn't a smart move, you knew that, but he had summoned you here to speak to you. You had been able to hear their argument before you even crested the top of the stone steps.
You heard the rapid approach of booted footsteps and jumped backward, away from the door and busied yourself with the hem of the shirt that was draped over your frame.
The door swung open to reveal Fennec, her brows knitted and mouth drawn into a frustrated scowl.
"He's ready for you."
You cleared your throat and waited until she brushed past you to enter the room; Boba was standing by one of the large windows, staring down at the glowing lights of Mos Espa. He was in his armor, save for the helmet, which was perched on top of the mannequin that stored it.
"Lord Fett?" you wrung your hands nervously, "You wanted to see me?"
"How many times must I say it?" he turned on his heel with a sigh, "Call me Boba."
"Sorry- Boba," you trailed off as your eyes met his, "What did you need?"
Fett strode across the room and ran his gloved hand along the glass of the bacta tank that still occupied the space. He no longer needed it, but he hadn't yet had it shipped away; as he stared at it, he almost looked sentimental.
"I want you to join me in the Rancor pit tomorrow morning."
Your eyes widened and you swallowed, audibly, "Have I- have I done something wrong?"
Boba glanced up at you and his face broke into a wide grin, "You think I'm going to feed you to the beast?"
Your face heated and you stared pointedly at the floor, embarrassed, "I don't- maybe."
He laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart hammer in your chest, "I'm not feeding you to the Rancor. I want to teach you something."
"Teach me?" you cocked an eyebrow, confused, "What-"
Boba waved a dismissive hand and interrupted you, "You'll see. Just be there tomorrow morning. And bring some Jakrab meat from the market."
--
The Rancor pit was dark, littered with rocks and the remains of the beast's previous meals. Boba was standing near the large metal gate, arms folded, when you entered.
The Rancor's trainer was nearby, polishing a large piece of leather with a bristled brush and oil from a tin. He looked up and nodded at you, his weathered face pulled into a small smile.
"Where's the Rancor?" you tossed the satchel full of meat and Boba caught it.
"Sleeping," he replied simply.
"What...what's that?" you gestured at the leather pieces at the trainer's feet.
"A harness."
"A harness?" you replied incredulously, "Do you plan to ride that thing?"
"I do," Boba smiled, "And you're going to do it with me."
The Daimyo had clearly lost his mind.
"Oh no, no. I'm not cut out for riding Rancors," you took a step back and brandished your hands.
"You don't know that until you try!" the trainer piped up as he hauled the harness up from the floor and threw it over his shoulder, "I'll go harness him up. You two get ready."
"With all due respect Lor- Boba," you tried to hide the fear in your voice, "I don't think I'm the best pick for this."
"Nonsense. I won't let anything happen to you," Boba reached out and touched a knuckle to your chin, lifting it so that your eyes met his. Your heart took residence in your throat and you tried to stop yourself from shaking.
Thunderous footsteps shook the rock around you as the trainer led the Rancor to the central area of the pit. The beast was enormous, at least as tall as two men, its scaled head almost brushing the ceiling as it lumbered toward you.
"Boba are you sure about this?" you breathed as the Rancor snorted loudly and shook, rattling the leather harness on its form.
"Of course I am, come on," Boba lead the way as the trainer escorted the beast through the lair and to the tunnel that opened to the sands of Tattooine.
The sun was bright, beating down on you as you trotted alongside Boba, eyes darting back to the Rancor fearfully.
The trainer stopped and tied the beast's lead to a large stake that was driven into the sand near his feet.
"Come on," Boba pressed a hand into the small of your back and shoved you toward the Rancor, "Here." He thrust the satchel of Jakrab meat into your hands and pushed you until you were close enough that the beast could grab you if it so desired.
You trembled in front of the Rancor as it huffed and blinked its beady black eyes, watching you closely.
"W-what do I do?" you whispered.
"Toss it some meat!" the trainer cried enthusiastically.
You fumbled with the drawstring on the satchel and thrust your hand inside, digging until your hand landed on a piece of dried meat. You yanked it from the bag and held it out at arm's length.
The Rancor perked up, its black eyes widening as they focused on the morsel. It sniffed loudly and took a hesitant step forward; its breath was hot and putrid as it fanned over you.
"Palm flat!" Boba called from behind you and you obeyed, holding the meat in your flattened palm.
The beast inched closer and you squeezed your eyes shut in fear. You could almost picture it now- Boba rushing you to the bacta tank with a missing arm as the Rancor chewed your bones to dust.
"There he goes," the trainer whispered and you felt the beast's enormous claws brush against your hand, almost delicately.
You cracked one eye open and watched, in awe, as the Rancor plucked the meat from your palm and brought it to its mouth.
"Wow..." you opened your other eye and stared as the creature chewed the morsel and made a low rumble...a purr?
"He likes that!" Boba stepped forward and reached into the satchel, retrieving another piece of meat. The Rancor perked up once more and its thick, scaly tail began to wag slowly, "Come on, boy."
The Rancor thudded forward until it was just a few feet from the two of you; Boba grinned and tossed the Jakrab jerky into the air and the creature caught it in its large mouth with ease.
Up close, there was something almost cute about it- it flared its nostrils and made another rumble, its black eyes once again falling on you.
"Pet him," Boba murmured and you turned to him incredulously, "Look at him, he likes you."
You stepped forward hesitantly and the Rancor's tail thudded heavily in the sand, "Hey boy-" you smiled weakly and the thudding grew more rapid, "Can I pet you?"
You extended a hand and ran it over the creature's head- the texture was akin to a massif's skin, rough and scaly with bits of sand caked in the crevices. The Rancor leaned into your touch and made a whining noise; you traced your fingers over the contours of its face and chuckled when its leg began to kick in time with your motions.
"And you thought you wouldn't be cut out for it, hm?" Boba grinned and laid a hand on your shoulder, "Ready to ride?"
Before you could protest, Boba grabbed you around the waist and hoisted you with ease, "Grab the harness," you obeyed and grasped the leather for leverage, pulling yourself until you were seated atop the creature's humped back.
Boba followed suit, deftly climbing the creature's form until he was seated behind you. You held your breath when he splayed his legs on either side of yours and pressed his armored chest against your back.
"Grab the reins," his mouth was practically on your ear when he spoke. You leaned forward and grasped the leather strips on either side of the Rancor's head.
"Ever ridden a Bantha?"
"Yes," it had been years, but you had ridden one before.
"Same concept," he reached his arms around you and placed his gloved hands over the top of yours, "Pull right to go right and vice versa."
Boba spurred the Rancor gently with the heels of his boots and it began to lumber forward slowly. The movement was surprisingly fluid, even on the shifting sands beneath its feet.
The creature's gait made Boba jostle against you and you were acutely aware of the way his breath fell hot on your ear.
"You can breathe, you know."
Oh, you had been holding your breath. That was embarrassing.
"Sorry," you mumbled it, unsure of what to say as a response.
"I notice you tense up when I'm around," his voice was low, so close to your ear that it sent a ripple of goosebumps down your neck, "Why is that?"
Your face was so hot it was unbearable and you felt like sinking right into the sands of Tattooine to disappear forever. You chewed the inside of your cheek and considered your answer. You could tell him the truth- that you were both intimidated by and attracted to him. Or you could lie- but what karking lie would cover that up?
"I can tell you what I think," another wave of goosebumps when he spoke, "I think that when you watch me, hoping I don't notice, it's not because you're interested in what I'm doing."
Boba swapped the reins over to his left hand and moved his right hand to your upper thigh, gripping it lightly.
"And I also think," he tightened his grip and you felt as if you were going to pass out, "That you've got a much smarter mouth than what you give me- I've heard you talk to Cobb Vanth before."
Cobb Vanth- the marshal of Mos Pelgo. You could lob insults and fake flirtations at each other until the Banthas came home.
"So why," Boba continued, "Do I get the scared little womprat treatment?"
"I-" you stopped and swallowed, hard, "I didn't think it would be professional to speak to you like that."
Boba chuckled and moved his hand up higher on your thigh, "You think I care about that?"
"No?" you guessed and he laughed again.
"No. I don't. You might have heard Fennec chastising me for it."
You thought of the previous night, the way Fennec had spat the word "feelings" in the conversation you had heard through the door. You swallowed again.
In the distance, a jakrab paused on the ridge, framed by the twin suns of Tattooine. The Rancor let out an inquisitive grunt and shifted it's weight, interrupting the conversation.
"On by, boy-" Boba pulled the reins taut, but it was too late. The young Rancor let out an excited snort and crouched in the sand, "Hold on!"
Boba wrapped his arm around your midriff and pulled you close to him as the beast roared and bounded off through the sand toward the jakrab.
"Boba!" you shrieked as the Rancor hurtled through the sand. You felt as if you were going to be launched from the harness at any moment.
"I think-" Boba paused as the beast crested the hill and nearly unseated the both of you, "That we need to jump!"
He pulled you with him and held you tight to his armor as he rolled off of the Rancor's back and to the hot sand. The two of you hit the ground with a thud and Boba coughed when your weight landed on top of him.
"You alright?" you lifted your head from his armored chest and he grinned up at you.
"Never better," he shifted his weight underneath you and for one tantalizing moment, you thought of kissing him.
Just do it, you thought to yourself.
"Lord Fett!" the trainer's voice rang across the dunes as he sprinted toward the two of you, "Are you alright?"
"We're fine," Boba never took his eyes off of yours as he called back, "The Rancor is gone, though."
"He'll be back," the trainer panted, "he's imprinted on you."
Boba only grunted in response before finally tearing his gaze away from yours. Already, you could hear the thundering footsteps of the Rancor as it ran towards the two of you. You rolled off of Boba and stared up, squinting against the sun into the beast's face.
It was clutching a dead jakrab in its mouth, brandishing it proudly and wagging its tail.
"Good boy," you chuckled and patted the Rancor before turning back to Boba, "Let's do this again."
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kalinara · 2 years
Text
I feel like one element that gets overlooked when we talk about Boba Fett’s storyarc in Book of Boba Fett is Tatooine itself.
When we start Book of Boba Fett, Boba has claimed Jabba’s throne for himself.  He aims to be the new crime lord of the planet, taking the same tribute and sliding into the same relationships that Jabba had with the populace.
But of course, as we’ve all noticed very quickly, Boba Fett is actually really bad at being a crime lord.  He may have been a ruthless bounty hunter once, but maybe his time in the Sarlacc pit has softened him.  Or, more likely, it was the time with the Tuskan Raiders.  Boba has been a man who, for most of his life, has only really had himself to rely on.   But the Raiders are different, they supported him and helped him, after a fashion.  He discovered a satisfaction in keeping his word, and making things better for them.  
I think that’s the problem really.  Boba Fett doesn’t want to be a crime lord.  He wants to be a governor.  He wants to make things better for Tatooine as a whole.  But he has no real way to conceptualize this except in the language of crime.  A crime lord rules.  So clearly he has to be a crime lord.
And this is Tatooine.  I was surprised enough to see that there was an actual MAYOR on Tatooine, but let’s be real, do we think there’s anything resembling an actual democratic process on that planet?  The mayor of Moss Espa, with his schemes and connections, is far more of an actual crime lord than Boba himself is.  
But Tatooine isn’t the same planet that it was in the movies anymore than Boba Fett is the same man.  It’s gone through its own Sarlacc pit.  Jabba’s death and the fall of the Empire has led to a domino effect across the planet.  
The biggest one, I think, is the clear separation of each settlement on Tatooine.  Mos Espa seems to be trying to pretend that nothing has changed.  Mos Pelgo got itself liberated by a dude in salvaged Mandalorian armor and is now Freetown.  And Mos Eisley may or may not be under the control of the New Republic.
The old system isn’t working.  And as I said in another post, I don’t think it would have mattered if Boba had been a competent crime lord, because the Hutts wanted the planet back regardless.  It might have been interesting to see what happened if they’d won, since, as mentioned, the New Republic IS clearly sniffing around the planet.  But a war between big powers like the Hutts and the Republic would probably not have gone well for the people in the crossfire.
One thing that I thought was a little hamhanded was the emphasis that once Tatooine had been a water planet.  But it did set up the symbolism nicely: like post-Sarlacc Boba, Tatooine is a scarred and damaged planet.  But there’s room for change in a way that there’s never really been before.
We see that with the gangbangers.  Young people who want to work, but are forced into neverending poverty by corrupt water providers.  Boba ends up taking their side, and suddenly, he’s got an army.
Din Djarin is the one who reached out to, and “negotiated” with Freetown, but Boba agreed to the terms readily enough.  No more spice.  At all.  Fennec is lowkey horrified.  But it gets him the other part of his army.
Fennec’s methods still have their purpose.  She’s the one who takes out the head of the beast in Mos Eisley.  But she did it because she’s loyal to Boba Fett.  She’s willing to see where he takes this.  She still seems reasonably content to walk with Boba through the now liberated streets.
And Tatooine looks different too.  The settlements are connected again.  The militiamen of Freetown are sitting down with the gangs of Mos Espa.  The Majordomo of Mos Espa may be hanging around with Peli of Mos Eisley (and there was a nice character beat for her too: she’d never left Mos Eisley before.  Until now.)  
There’s implicitly even more alliances on the table.  Boba’s Tuskans are gone, but the ones that Freetown befriended should still be out there.  The Jawas are on friendly terms with Mos Eisley.  
Boba isn’t even pretending to be a crime lord anymore.  He’s in charge, sure, but he’s ruling with respect rather than fear.  He’s keeping his promises, supporting his people, and he’s even got a vassal/subordinate in his own bacta tank.  And it might be very good timing, because the New Republic isn’t going away (at least not for another twenty-five years or so...), and I suspect it’ll be a lot easier for benevolent governor Boba Fett to find a way to deal with them than it would for a standard crime lord.
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hrtiu · 3 years
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Writing prompt idea- Bobannec marriage with the mandalorian vows? Maybe it’s a sincere but spur-of-the-moment thing between the two of them. I love your writing for this pairing! :)
Sorry it takes me so long to get to these prompts! I am still working through them, though, I promise! This one is great, thanks so much for the prompt <3
The heat on Tatooine was dry, but every once in a while the temperatures soared so high that the air was still heavy and sultry with it. On just one such day, Boba Fett rested in Fennec’s basement study at the palace, his back slouched in a wicker chair and his feet propped up against the edge of Fennec’s desk. He could be in his own study, of course, but the basement was always coolest on days like this, when even old Jabba’s powerful refrigeration system struggled to cool the ancient palace.
Fennec poured over a stack of flimsi and several datapads, her eyes flitting across each page for only a few seconds before moving on. Boba left most administrative work to Dr. Pershing—his brilliant mind was perfectly suited to paying bills and sorting the junk mail from what deserved Boba’s attention—but Fennec took on some of the more complicated business matters personally. She was a genius with a ledger, bringing Boba’s empire comfortably into the black less than two years after they’d started working together.
“Are you free next Tuesday?” Fennec asked, not bothering to look up from her datapad.
“Yes.”
“Alright. Keep it free. We’re going to Mos Eisley.”
The corner of Boba’s mouth turned down in distaste. “For what?”
“I’m making an appointment at the courthouse to get married. The tax benefits are ludicrous.”
Boba froze, his back arched midway through a stretch. Marriage. To Fennec? Taxes?
“I didn’t think we were the tax-paying type,” he said once he’d recovered enough to find his voice.
Fennec set her datapad down and looked over at Boba, a slight smile playing at her lips. “Only amateurs don’t pay their taxes at all. You have to give them something to throw them off your scent.”
“You want to get married to get a break on our fake taxes? On taxes that only represent a fraction of what we should be paying?”
Fennec narrowed her eyes at him. “And you have a problem with that? How do you think we got such a healthy surplus?”
Boba got to his feet and reached for his helmet. This was not a conversation he wanted his expression visible for. “We can afford it. Just pay the damn taxes.”
He started for the door, but the cold tone of Fennec’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“What is your problem?” she asked. “It’s just a legal status.”
He turned on her. “It’s not just a legal status. Not to me.”
Her eyes flashed. “We’re already practically married. What are you not ok with? Do you want me to move out?”
“No!”
“Do you want to stop sharing finances? Do you want me to sleep with other people? Do you want to sleep with someone else?”
“No!” Boba, more forcefully than he meant to. Then he noticed the flicker of doubt glinting in Fennec’s eyes. Funny, he didn’t think he’d ever seen something like that in her expression before. “No…” he repeated, softer this time. “Of course not.”
“Then… what’s the problem?” Her voice had gone quiet—almost delicate, though Boba would never admit to even thinking of her that way.
“I don’t want to get married in the same place that spice addicts get sentenced, that’s all,” he said. “Even if it’s just for taxes.”
Fennec slumped back in her chair with a sigh, and Boba’s body relaxed. They’d fought enough over the years for him to recognize a ceasefire when he saw one.
“Fine. We don’t have to go to the courthouse,” she said.
“Good.” He stepped out of the office and closed the door softly behind him. As he walked up the stairs out of the basement, he stubbornly ignored the knot forming in his stomach. He’d won the argument, so why did he keep feeling like he’d lost?
---
Boba barely saw Fennec over the course of the next three days. She’d always been somewhat elusive, disappearing for a few days at a time when she needed space, but this was the longest she’d been gone in years. It was the longest she’d been gone since they’d started sharing a bed.
Boba told himself he was fine with it. She was like an itinerant tooka, coming and going as she pleased. He knew he needed to be patient and let her come to him.
On the third day after their argument Boba walked into the master suite and immediately knew she was back. The signs were everywhere, subtle but unmistakable. The pile of shoes Boba had left by the door had been straightened, the lamp in the corner that Fennec liked to read under was lit, the closet doors—which Boba never bothered with—were shut. Afraid to spook her, Boba stepped cautiously further into the suite.
“...Fen?”
“In here,” her voice called from their room.
He followed the sound into their room, where Fennec tossed him his favorite blaster before he had time to register the sight in front of him.
“You have your armor on? Good,” she said.
Boba clutched at the blaster automatically, but his eyes stayed glued on Fennec. She was wearing a jet black gown that swept to the floor in elegant, draping fabric. The top twisted and criss crossed over her collarbone, tying behind her neck and revealing her shoulders. Her toned arms were hard with muscle but somehow her curves still showed through, her hips smooth and inviting and her skin begging to be touched.
“Fen… What’s this?” Boba managed to get out.
She picked up her sniper rifle from the bed and slung it over her shoulder, the thick leather strap at odds with her gazy dress but somehow still at home on her body. “You said you didn’t want to get married in a courthouse. So I did some research.”
“Research?” Boba was struggling to follow her, his mind both pleased and utterly bewildered by this turn of events.
“Yes.” She stepped towards him, sniper rifle still slung over her shoulder, and took one of his hands in hers. “I thought we could get married the Mandalorian way.”
“Oh…” This couldn’t be real, could it? Boba wondered in a daze. Did Fennec really know him so well? Could she see so far into his soul as to understand what he wanted before he even knew it himself?
That shadow of doubt passed across Fennec’s expression once more, and her grip on Boba’s hand tightened just the smallest amount. “Unless that’s not what you want,” she said.
That rare, precious show of vulnerability shook Boba from his daze, and his fingers squeezed Fennec’s back. He locked eyes with her and swallowed thickly, unexpectedly nervous.
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” he said.
The corner of her mouth turned up and she responded, “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”
And just like that, they were husband and wife.
Boba dropped his blaster to the floor and surged forward, pulling Fennec into a fierce kiss. She returned in kind, her lips moving against his in a way that was achingly familiar yet just as thrilling as the day they’d first kissed. He broke away long enough to push her onto their bed, then he was back on her, his tongue dragging a hot line up her neck.
She squirmed under him, then pushed him away so she could remove the sniper rifle from her back. Once her weapon was out of the way she snaked her hands around the back of his neck and drew him back down to her, her eyes dark and shining with an intensity only she held.
“What’s with the blaster and rifle, anyway?” Boba asked between breathless kisses.
She chuckled into his ear, her voice throaty and irresistible. “I don’t know, it just seemed more… Mandalorian.”
He snorted in response, though he couldn’t deny she was right. His wife was always right.
His wife. What a thought. Boba’s hand crept further and further up her thigh—his wife’s thigh—and he felt himself getting lost in her. With a jerk of her hips, Fennec rolled him onto his back and all he could do was stare up in wonder at her beautiful, lethal face. Her cheeks were flushed. Her braid hung over her shoulder, messy and nearly undone. She was the most flawless woman in the whole galaxy, and she was his. She was perfect, and he was hers.
She leaned down to him, and Boba lost his breath. “You know we’re still going to the courthouse next week, right?” she said, her voice husky and commanding.
Boba chuckled and drew her closer to him. “Damn taxes…”
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galacticgraffiti · 3 years
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⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Veman'alor (8) ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
!!! NSFW/18+ !!!
Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 5.4k CW: I wrote something fluffy for once, fingering, idiots finally communicating, Din is a sexy silent tin can
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Read the companion piece from Din's perspective (WIP)
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Chapter 8 - Mornings, Conversations
Fennec stares inquisitively at you when you ask her for a bacta patch, bruise blooming on your cheek, but she doesn’t ask. She just disappears into a side room and comes back with a tiny syringe of bacta and a small patch.
„May I?“ she asks and you nod. She stabs the shot right into your neck and it stings like all hell for a second before cool relief washes over you. Then, she patches up your lip before stepping back and examining her work.
„You’ll be good as new tomorrow, tinker girl,“ she says and winks.
„Thank you, Fennec,“ you answer, and you mean it, from the bottom of your heart. You are not only grateful for the help, but also – maybe even more so – for the fact that she is not bombarding you with questions you do not want to answer.
„So what’d you come here for?“ she asks and pushes you towards the bar where she pours two glasses of spotchka. „I’m assuming you didn’t just want my fantastic medical expertise.“
„Actually, I have some questions about the Mandalorian,“ you start and Fennec chuckles.
„Don’t we all sweetheart, don’t we all.“
„Do you know him?“
„Kind of… I knew him even before I met Boba. Not well, we weren’t friends. But we ran in the same circles. Then, Boba saved my life and we helped Djarin with… a bounty, you could say. That man has got some baggage, let me tell you,“ she eyes you suspiciously. „But why haven’t you asked Boba about this? You two are… close.“
„I have,“ you admit grumpily. „But he won’t tell me any more, especially not about Mando. He says I should ask Mando myself.“
Fennec laughs heartily at that.
„Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Doesn’t take too well to strangers, does he.“
„I think I insulted him,“ you explain. „And I wanted to… well, I would love to hear his whole story, but for now I’d be content with just knowing what to avoid so I don’t make him run off again.“
„What’d you do?“ Fennec asks and sips her spotchka.
„I don’t know! I was sweating like a bantha in heat and I thought he might be too, so I asked him if he ever took that stupid bucket off and he-“
„Oh,“ Fennec sighs, „yeah, that’d do it. Not a good topic.“
„But why?“ you insist.
„Couldn’t tell you exactly. I know it’s got something to do with his creed, he is never supposed to take it off and all… Thing is though, he did. He did for his son, and then a Jedi took the kid from him.“
„A Jedi?“ you exclaim in surprise, „I thought they were just legends!“
The fact that Mando has a kid surprises you as well, almost even more, he doesn’t seem the type.
„Nope,“ she says and downs the rest of her spotchka like a shot. „Very real. Broke Djarin’s damn heart to lose the kid, so maybe avoid that. Also… the helmet, maybe the whole of Mandalore in general, now that I think of it. He’s got some, uhh… unfinished business there. His ship got blown up when his kid was abducted by the Empire, which I’m guessing you know happened but you didn’t know how. Don’t ask him about that, he loved that damn ship even if it was a pile of junk that lost parts whenever it went into hyperspace. Pre-imperial, though, came in very handy I imagine.“
„That’s… wow, that made me wanna know even more,“ you chuckle. „But thank you. I’ll try to stick to strictly business.“
Fennec inclines her head and gets up.
„One last question?“ you ask. „Why is Boba leaving?“
„Can’t tell you that, tinker girl. But I’m coming with him, so don’t you worry too much. We’ll be fine.“
„It’s just… he seemed very upset. I wanna help him.“
„From the looks of it, you already did, sweetheart.“ Fennec looks you up and down pensively. „I’m glad he has you.“
With that, she leaves you sitting at the bar to ponder all this new information. The swell of your cheek is starting to ebb and you’re grateful for the bacta. When you slide off the bar stool, your sore legs protest and you can feel your pussy throbbing. Fuck, you need a bath. It’s been a rough day.
*****
The next week passes in a frenzy. Boba has left the planet and taken the Slave with him, so you spend your days calling up friends, colleagues, and acquaintances looking for a ship for the Mandalorian. Meanwhile your evenings are being occupied by your planning of Boonta Eve. Your wounds and bruises from the last encounter with Boba were already healed up the very next day, just like Fennec had predicted, and you are glad Mando did not see you like that. He may not speak much, but for some reason you think he may have inquired about this.
You miss Boba, much more than you’d anticipated. Mando’s presence is not making things easier for you, his armour simultaneously so similar and so different from the one you are used to seeing. You catch yourself watching the Mandalorian, the way he carries himself, the tiny clues hidden in the tilt of his helmet. When he speaks, you listen carefully, memorising the sound of his voice, the rasp of it and a warmth that can not be taken away even by the metallic filter of his vocoder.
You take care to avoid all the topics that Fennec has listed as off-limits: The Child, the Jedi (even though you are not really sure when those old sorcerers would ever come up), the Empire, Mandalore, the Crest… It’s everything you want to ask him about and it’s everything you can’t. At least you don’t seem to have offended him again, so you are counting that as a win.
However, slowly but surely you are getting somewhere with the search for a new ship – the more models you look at together, the more Mando rejects. While the process is frustrating – very frustrating sometimes – you are also beginning to get a feel for what he is looking for. Technically, you are not a saleswoman and this is not part of your job, but you find that you are quite enjoying yourself, the research as well as catching up with some old contacts. Some of them may even come in handy once you expand your plans for the Boonta Eve Classic, who knows?
You also know that Boba wants you to help Mando, and even if you are still not sure what to make of the silver-clad man – you assume he is a man underneath all that armour – you are slowly warming up to his quiet, melancholy company.
Some days, you just talk on your own, chattering about nothing for hours while researching as he stands next to you, unmoving and unchanging as ever, always clad in full armour no matter how hot it is outside. You hope your stories entertain him – stories about the races you have seen, the ships you have repaired, about the wild goings on of the Tatooine underworld, recounting rumours you have heard about Boba. The Mandalorian is a silent listener, he barely ever reacts, but you always feel like he is paying attention, watching you from behind the safe distance of his dark visor.
You also get the feeling that he needs this. Whatever he makes of your stories, you think he is just glad he’s not alone; alone with his thoughts and his memories and the looming responsibilities. The silence grows to be more comfortable, and you find yourself looking forward to his brooding company and one-word answers whenever a new message about a ship model pops up that you want to show him. His presence is comforting, even though there is an underlying sadness to him you can not quite put your finger on, and sometimes it sweeps you off your feet. You wonder what happened to him, but you know you can’t ask.
You are poring over your plans for Boonta Eve late tonight because you really want to finish a rough draft of what you’ll need: Racers, pods, mechanic costs, reopening the arena, getting food vendors and ticket sellers… You sigh. Maybe you should ask Boba for an assistant. This is really not your wheelhouse, crunching numbers and organising parties. You know this was your idea and so you will accept the responsibility, but once Boba returns, you will have even less time to organise all this. Progress has been slow as it is, your days occupied by Mando – not that you mind – but you want to have at least something you can present to Boba whenever he comes back and you are getting frustrated with… everything. Mostly yourself.
Most nights this past week you have woken up sweaty, confused and lonely, Boba’s and Mando’s voices mixing in your dreams in strange variations that range from blissful paradise to absolute nightmare. It is always harder to face Mando after you’ve dreamed about him; the things he does to you in these dreams stand in no relation to how he treats you when you work together. He retains his distance, he barely speaks unless spoken to, and he never comments on your appearance – apart from that one comment he made on the first day you two met in the courtyard. He has never spoken Mando’a in your presence since, never touched you, never even stood close enough to invade your personal space. He lingers at the edge of everything, always somewhere but never quite here. Still, your body reacts to him and you can’t help but thinking of him, imagining what he might look like, hungry eyes behind the black abyss of his visor, how his voice might sound when he praises you, Sweet girl, the moans that would escape him as he takes you apart…
You have no guilt about these thoughts. Well, maybe a little. But your relationship with Boba is strange, you don’t expect anything because you don’t really know what to expect. So you don’t feel too bad if, once or twice, Mando’s name slips out as you touch yourself at night, and maybe it’s a silver helmet that’s watching you from the corner of your room in your dreams while a green one looks up from between your thighs. You miss Boba, and you tell yourself that your attraction to Mando is just your body trying to fill that void with the next best thing. Right?
You sigh and get up from the table where you’ve been looking over cost estimates for parts of a podracer you want to modify. Gods you need another cup of caf if you are going to keep at this tonight. Maybe you could get around to calling Kuat tomorrow, ask him about some parts you want to purchase. You lean against the kitchen counter as the machine runs, deeply inhaling the bitter scent of caf that is already re-awakening your tired brain. Lost in thought, you almost don’t hear the bell of the elevator – almost, but a jolt goes through you as you realise what this must mean, and before it has rung out, you are already out of the kitchen and stumbling into the main room.
Your eyes go wide at the sight of Boba, finally here, right here, and when he opens his arms you don’t hesitate to jump into them, pressing yourself close to him and deeply inhaling his scent. He smells of… himself, of machine oil, the ozone burn of blasters and of something else, metallic and sharp… blood. Before you can process that thought, Boba lifts you up and buries his nose in your hair.
„Gods I’ve missed you, cyar’ika,“ he breathes and oh. Oh. This is new. Your heart swells in your chest at his words, he has never been so open before, he barely if ever speaks about his feelings and his sudden vulnerability almost knocks you over.
„I’ve missed you more,“ you whisper and he doesn’t answer, he just holds you close to him, stroking your hair, your cheeks, your back. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, you have missed him even more than you realised, but when you shift your weight and Boba winces, you’re harshly brought back to reality.
„Oh, osik, Boba, are you hurt?“ You search him with worried eyes, your lip trembling.
„Not too badly, princess, don’t you worry. I’ll be good as new after a few bacta patches.“
You take him in, really take him in, and you see the blood splattered across his chest plates, the tear in the fabric of his sleeve, the dirt on his shoes and the new gash that runs over the bridge of his nose, shining red amongst the old, faded scars.
„Oh, baby, what happened?“ The pet name just slips out and you hold your breath, waiting for him to berate you, but Boba just lays his scarred hand on your cheek and lets you lean into the touch.
„I’ll tell you some other time, mesh’la. For now, I just want to be glad I’m alive.“
Since he is in less than prime condition, you gently shove Boba towards the bathroom, where you help him undress, carefully taking off each piece of armour and peeling off his undergarments. He curses more than once as the rough material slides over open wounds, and you almost cry when you see how much he is actually hurting.
„Fuck, Boba, are you sure you shouldn’t go see a medic?“ you ask slightly panicked as you apply whatever bacta you can find in the medpac you have stowed away in the bathroom. You locate some patches of different sizes and intensity as well as two large bacta syringes. You hold them up for approval and Boba eyes you before nodding, so you try not to think too much about it before you stab them into his marred flesh, one right next to a mean-looking blaster burn on his shoulder and the other beside a bloody cut on the inside of his thigh. He sighs in relief before he answers your question.
„Maybe I should have,“ he admits, but shrugs as if it does not matter now. „You’re doing quite a good job of patching me up though. Very steady hands, cyare.“
You blush, of course you have steady hands, you’re a damn mechanic. Shaking does you no good when welding or trying to fit tiny parts together.
„So why didn’t you?“ you ask, „Go to a medic, I mean? There must be someone in the palace more qualified.“
Boba regards you with sparkling eyes that are just slightly unfocused, and maybe you only notice that because you are paying close attention to him.
„Wanted to see you first, princess,“ he says and now you can’t hold back the tears you have been trying so hard to avoid. You kneel in front of him where he’s sitting on the edge of your bathtub, taking his rough hands into your small ones and just hold them. When you look up at him, nose red and eyes swimming, Boba seems oddly helpless at your sudden outbreak of emotions. You hiccup slightly, then wipe away your tears, although it hurts to let him go even for a second.
„Will you…,“ you bite your lip, not sure if you’re asking too much, but you can’t stop yourself. You worried so much, and obviously you were right to. You can’t just let him leave again. „Will you sleep here tonight?“
Boba takes a while, blinking calmly and stroking your hair.
„I can try,“ he finally answers, and your heart bursts.
*****
You wake up the next morning because you’re too hot. Way too hot, even for Tatooine temperatures, but for the first time in days you feel well rested, and all manic dreams seem to have vanished. While your mind slowly peels out of its sleepy cocoon, you become aware of Boba who is pressed into your back with his arm resting heavy around your waist.
If you have to bear being hot in exchange for this? You will fucking take that deal.
His breath comes in little huffs that tickle the back of your neck, and your insides feel warm and all around excellent, full of happiness, with little humming peepers fluttering in your stomach. Boba stayed, he stayed the whole night, and he is sleeping right here next to you.
You don’t move for a long time, your mind still slow and thick with sleep as you let yourself enjoy the deep content that fills you. You wish you could look at him, see what Boba Fett looks like in his sleep. Is he more relaxed – is he ever relaxed? Does he look peaceful? Do his eyes twitch when he dreams, does the steep wrinkle between his brows go away? But you don’t dare move, you do not want to wake him up. You have a feeling he does not sleep enough as it is, and after this trip, he needs to rest even more. You hope the bacta patches have helped during the night.
Your arm is all tingly and you can’t feel your fingers, but it’s worth it just to feel the weight of Boba against you, his warmth seeping into your bones as you lay there entangled in his embrace.
It feels like forever and no time at all has passed when he finally shifts, pressing more firmly into you and… oh. Oh.
The mellow warmth of your happiness is replaced by a simmering heat in the pit of your stomach when you feel his hard-on against the swell of your ass and you are tempted to grind back into him. Before you can decide anything, Boba’s lips move against the back of your neck.
„Jate vaar’tur, mesh’la,“ he rumbles, his husky voice even deeper when it is laced with sleep. „Good morning, beautiful.“
„Hey baby,“ you whisper softly and turn around in his arms to look at him.
He looks much better than he did last night. The cut on his face has closed up and even the blaster burn on his arm is less disturbing, healed up with new pink flesh.
Your eyes slide along his bare skin, his broad chest that is covered in dark curls, the thickness of his arm that is still slung over you, his round jaw, the stubble that shadows his jaw… His eyes, so surprisingly soft when you finally meet them. You wiggle one arm out from his embrace to lay your hand on his cheek.
„I’m so glad you’re here, Boba.“
The tiniest of smiles lifts the corners of his mouth as he leans his forehead against yours.
„Kov’nyn,“ he says.
„What’s that mean?“
„It’s… some people call it a keldabe kiss. It’s the act of resting foreheads together, which is often done to replace a true kiss when both parties wear helmets,“ he explains quietly. „I know you wanted to learn some more Mando’a, so… literally, kov’nyn means head-strike, and it is sometimes used in combat as well, to knock out your opponent.“
You giggle a little and Boba raises an eyebrow. You try to contain yourself, but you burst out laughing again one second later.
„What’s so funny, ad’ika?“
„N-nothing,“ you splutter, „It’s just… it’s so typically Mandalorian, only you people would use the same term for knocking out your opponent by headbutt, and gently forehead-kissing your partner.“
Still chuckling, you pull yourself closer to him and rest your cheek against his chest.
„Is that what we are?“ he asks, and if you did not know any better, you would say he sounds almost unsure.
„What, typically Mandalorian? You, maybe-“
„No,“ he clears his throat. „…partners.“
Oh. Fuck, you did not expect to be blindsided like this first thing in the morning.
„I mean…,“ you trail off and sit up, shrugging as you look down on him. „I’d like to be. I wanted to ask you last time you visited me here but… I didn’t have the nerve. I’m- I really like you. But…“
You don’t know how to put it without hurting his feelings. Boba rests his hand on your thigh and rubs soothing little circles.
„What is it, mesh’la?“
„I don’t know how to act around you,“ you burst out. „I don’t know what to say, how to treat you when there’s people around, I don’t know… why me? I don’t… and don’t give me that ‘you’re special‘ bantha shit.“
Boba takes a couple breaths and takes your hand in his.
„I… I know this is not what we started out as,“ he says calmly. You didn’t think he had it in him to talk about feelings so openly, but you are pleasantly surprised he is responding to your concerns. „I know we are… unusual. First off, I need you to know that we are equals. We both may enjoy something else concerning sex, but outside of that, I never want to make you feel like you are lesser than me. Understood, princess?“
You nod.
„That said, I need you to address me respectfully when there’s people around. I am still the ruler of a planet. You can keep going as you have, calling me Sir in public. I’d rather you don’t use my first name because I do not want people trying to use you against me.“
Boba takes a deep breath as you try desperately to process everything he is saying. But he is not done.
„As for why you? It started simple – you were there. I told you I had already heard of you when you came to see me. That was true. You had the skills I needed and not many connections to the outside, you were much less involved in any shady business than anyone else I could have hired. That didn’t mean I trusted you, but it meant I would not have to worry quite as much. And so, you were here. I would lie if I said I did not enjoy your beauty, but it was not the reason I hired you. I want to be very clear that I did not plan on this happening. But the more time we spent together, the more I found myself liking you. And so, when the opportunity arose, that night when I found you…“
Your cheeks burn when you remember – hands between your legs, soaking wet and crying out Boba’s name as he watched from beside you.
„…when the opportunity arose, I took it. And I do not regret it. Do you?“
„No,“ you answer hurriedly. „No, I don’t. I just wasn’t sure if this was all it was to you – a good fuck, an opportune body.“
„When we started, that may have been true. Maybe even if you’d asked me last week. But this trip… it took a lot out of me.“ Boba sighs. „It might even be good that you didn’t ask me before I came back. I may have said something that could have hurt you. I’m not… I’m not used to attachments.“
Wow. You have to take a couple of steadying breaths while your brain tries to compute. That was… a lot. More than you’d dared to hope for, more than you’d ever expected. You had seen a softer side of Boba before, and it had surprised you then. But this is probably the longest you have ever heard him talk. He is still watching you with intent eyes, waiting for your response.
„I- Boba, that… thank you. This is more than I expected, better than I expected.“
He nods, then pulls you back down to him, softly fitting his mouth against yours in a deep kiss that makes your heart ache. His tongue slides against yours and, Gods how much you’ve missed him. His hands run all over your body, mapping out every curve, every hill and valley of soft flesh.
„This changes nothing between us if you don’t want that,“ you add after some consideration, his hot kisses messing with your focus, but you need him to know.
„What do you mean?“
„I mean… I’ve been enjoying what we have. I don’t want you… to feel like you have to treat me any differently… You know, when we-“
„You mean when we fuck?“ he sounds amused and you blush at his blunt choice of words.
„I- yeah.“
„Of course not, princess. We go on as we always have,“ he says and rolls you over to your side again, facing away from him so your back is pressed against his front. You had almost forgotten you’re both naked – you because you always sleep like this, Boba because you undressed him to care for his wounds. Now though, his half-hard cock is a welcome reminder and the sudden shift in tone makes your head spin.
You gasp as he rolls his hips into you and impatiently grind back against him. He grips your waist to hold you still, then slides his hand down to pry your thighs open.
You feel your blush spreading down to your chest as he cups your bare pussy, easing one finger into you to find you more than ready.
„Osik, cyare,“ he murmurs into your neck, „keep forgetting how responsive you are for me, such a good girl. You miss me while I was gone? Had no one to take care of you, little one, had to do it all on your own…“
He drags his fingers through your slick cunt, nudging at your clit every so often, but keeping the friction to the bare minimum, teasing you as he goes on.
„Or maybe you weren’t so alone after all, hm? Maybe you invited Djarin to warm your bed while I was gone, don’t tell me you didn’t consider it, don’t lie to my face… My favourite little whore, can’t live without a cock to suck, can you?“
You know he is just trying to rile you up, but now that he brought up Mando, you can not get the thought out of your head. So you decide to answer truthfully.
„M-maybe thought about it,“ you gasp when Boba grinds into you harder, his cock dragging along the valley between your ass cheeks as his fingers work you faster.
„Did you now?“
„Mhmmm,“ you moan out and push back against him.
„And what’d Djarin say?“
„I didn’t- fuck, didn’t actually ask him, just… thought about it. Missed you so much, it… w-was hard not to- and then he- then he-“
„What did he do, cyar’ika, come on, tell me and maybe I’ll let you come around my fingers.“
„H-he fuckin‘… called me sweet girl…,“ you moan. „T-thought of you calling me that wh-when you fucked me on the throne and-“
Boba slides a third finger into you, working you open while his thumb rests on your clit, deliciously anchoring you to him while you pant and gasp and chase the pleasure that’s building deep in your core.
„And what, sweet girl?“ Boba asks and there’s a dangerous edge to his voice as he repeats the nickname Mando gave you.
„I- I think he said something… in Mando’a, b-but I’m not sure I understood him right, I… don’t think he meant for me to hear it, don’t think he thought I’d understand…“
„What did he say?“ Boba demands and pulls his fingers from you. You keen, you were getting so close, so goddamn close, and now you’ve lost it again. Boba’s hand comes down on your ass and the sharp sting reminds you that he’s waiting for an answer. „What did he say?“
„I don’t remember exactly,“ you try to collect your thoughts.
„Well, you better think quick or this will be over and you’ll have to take care of yourself again,“ he grumbles. Fuck.
„It was something… something like geesh’emuurir ukuror gar cetar, I don’t… it’s hard to remember words when you don’t know what they mean,“ you defend yourself.
Boba hisses.
„What does it mean?“ you ask timidly.
„What do you think it means? You said you understood, tell me your guess, sweet girl,“ he mocks and brings his hand back to your aching cunt. The pressure is so good you sigh in relief, he won’t leave you like this, if you answer right, maybe you will even get rewarded.
„I… think he said he wants to make me kneel,“ you finally reply. Boba licks at your neck and then sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder, not too harshly, just enough to leave some marks.
„And why would he say that, mesh’la?“
„I… I apologised to him,“ you murmur and Boba curls his fingers inside you. You gasp when he hits your sweet spot, again and again and you stop thinking, just him and the pleasure he brings you filling your brain until it’s almost too much.
„What did you say?“ Boba asks, a perilous calm in his voice that is almost worse than if he had screamed into your ear.
„I s-said I apologised to him,“ your legs are shaking, but it’s not quite enough. You’re teetering on the brink of your orgasm, kept in suspense by Boba’s skilled fingers that always slow down just when the muscles of your core start to flutter in anticipation.
„No, what did you say. How did you phrase it?“
„I- fuck, I used the apology my friend taught me. I- it was… ni ceta,“ you stutter out and Boba bites down on your shoulder again.
„Never use that with a stranger. Never. You kneel before me, only me and no one else, not unless I ask you to, understood?“ he breathes into your neck and you shiver. Unless he asks? Does he mean… Once more, a hard smack on your ass remind you to answer him before he slides his fingers into the slick heat of your pussy again.
„Yes Sir,“ you whisper.
„Good girl,“ he praises and you clench around his fingers. „Now you may come, come on sweet girl, you like it when I call you that? Make you think of Djarin while I fuck you? Give me all you got, wanna feel you fucking soak me until you’re ready to take my cock, wanna remind you who you belong to…“
„F-fuck, Boba!“ you cry when he curls his fingers inside you just so and sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, rutting against your ass. And suddenly, it all comes crashing down, you feel like you are flying a loop in hyperspace, your world turned upside down at lightspeed as you come around his fingers, whining and gasping out his name.
You lay there until Boba removes his hand from you, sticky with your release. He sits up and looks down at you, regarding you with a cold smile on his face.
„Ke ceta, cyare.“
It takes your fucked out brain a second to put those words together, then you scramble to your knees, sitting upright before him with your hands in your lap.
„On your knees for me only, princess. No one else,“ he says and pushes his fingers inside your mouth so you can taste yourself on them. You suck his fingers clean while he watches you and you can feel yourself dripping onto the sheets under his intense gaze.
„Still thinking about Djarin, sweet girl?“ he inquires almost casually when he finally pulls his fingers from you, wiping some spit from your chin with his thumb. You track the path of his hand when he pulls back, until he wraps his fingers around his cock that’s thick and heavy in his lap, leaking with precum. Your eyes snap back up at his face as he lazily continues stroking himself.
„N-no Sir, only you,“ you say and your mouth waters at the sight of him. Maker, you wish you could wrap your lips around him, make him feel as good as he did you, but you don’t dare move without his permission.
„Just me, huh? Let’s make sure that sticks, princess. Want me to fuck it into you until you’re so cockdumb I’m all you can think about? Just me?“
Your brain short-circuits at that, and you just nod, wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.
„Good girl,“ Boba says and flips you onto your back to hover over you. „My good girl.“
Previous Chapter ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Next Chapter
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Mando'a translations:
Jate vaar’tur – Good morning. Kov’nyn – The gesture of laying (often helmeted) foreheads together. Can be soft, but can also be used as a headbutt in combat. In slang also known as the Keldabe Kiss. geesh’emuurir ukuror gar cetar – (grammatically wrong!) Repetition of what Din says the Chapter before: „I’d enjoy making you kneel“ Ni ceta – I’m sorry [I kneel] Ke ceta, cyare – Kneel, sweetheart.
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certifiedskywalker · 4 years
Text
Fett’s Foundling - Din Djarin
thewhitedannimal said: Hi! Could I request a mando x reader where the reader is also a skilled and famous mandalorian? They decide to work together and after sometime, the reader is impressed by mando and starts developing a noticeable crush on him, but mando thinks it’s cute and expresses his feelings? Tysm if u do, I love ur work!
AN: I kinda changed this up a bit. I hope you like it though! I think it turned out pretty well!
WARNING: SEASON 2 SPOILERS!!! and mentions of terrorism (Star Wars terrorism but still)
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“You’re sure about this?”
Boba’s dark eyes were cold and searching as he held your gaze. The lines of his face, including those carved into his skin by the Snarlacc’s digestive acid, were creased as he tried to read you. You imagined you looked about the same as him, but less scarred. Brow furrowed, lips thin, and expression stern. You were, after all, Fett’s foundling. 
“Are you sure about this? After all, we’ve been through a lot together. You might find that you miss me, go all soft on me, old man.”
At your teasing, the coldness in Boba’s tense features melted away. His mouth quirked upwards in one of his rare, closed-lipped smiles. The smile was a welcomed change of pace; the only hint of joy to be found on Moff Gideon’s freshly captured, Imperial light cruiser. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Bo-Katan looking grim, head ducked down in conservation with her subordinate. She had been whispering since the Jedi left, eyes darting around the bridge in search of the Darksaber. 
You glanced around too, but found that the ancient relic was nowhere to be found. Neither was Din Djarin. 
“And you say I’m going soft,” Boba scoffed, pulling your attention back to him. “You’re tied to him like a Kowakian monkey-lizard to a Hutt. Pathetic joke of a creature.”
“You would be the only one to think that,” you countered, “and the first to know that you’re wrong.” It wasn’t a threat. It was the truth. 
Boba had found you as a child who, much like himself, was stranded on Tatooine, doomed to the wastes baked by the twin suns. Both of you had been lost, outsiders to an outside world. Then Boba found his way back to the way of the Mandalore and brought you with him. He taught you to be a warrior and the two of you took odd jobs for odd people.
All the while, Boba searched for his armor and, with his help and scraps of lost battle gear, you had begun to forge your own. Eventually, you forged a name for yourself. So, it surprised him when you had, many cycles past, asked Boba if you could use his: Fett. It had stuck and you had stuck together, through it all. Though now…
“Not pathetic,” Boba finally conceded, “but you’re tied to him. Any being can see it.”
Warmth spread through your body and over your skin like a blaster bolt singe. Tightness gathered in your jaw, forced your teeth together like a vice. To ebb the sting promised by further embarrassment, you tore your eyes from Boba’s, unwilling to let him see deeper in your heart and mind. He knew you too well and you knew him too well. The two of you knew what the other was after and how those paths no longer lined up together.
“You don’t have to ask for my permission to leave.” At his words, you lifted your gaze back to Boba’s. “All I ask is that you give your allegiance to no one-” 
You roll your eyes at his words. “I know my value, my ideals. I’d never compromise either.”
Boba shook his head and leaned closer to you. Between you, he extended his hand. Your eyes glanced from his empty, open hand to his face a few times before he finally spoke up. 
“-unless they prove to you that your life is more important than their own.”
“I don’t…”
Shock. You remembered the feeling from your first gunfight. All those cycles ago, when you were lost on Tatooine. It had been so long since something had truly rattled you. For it to be Boba’s words, the man who taught you to push shock and fear off to the wayside, you were left all the more shaken.
“From what I’ve seen, that Mandalorian is as honorable as an ex-bounty hunter can be.” 
Boba gives you another closed-lipped smile. In your silence, you glance down at his hand again. You see him move it towards you, like an offering. Without another moment's hesitation, you move to rest your hand on his armored forearm. You feel his fingers on your own arm give a gentle squeeze before you meet his eyes again.
“You take care of yourself.”
Before you can return the sentiment, Boba pulls you in from your arm and into a tight embrace. Shock, again, freezes you, turns your limbs to carbonite for longer than you care to acknowledge. Boba’s embrace melts you free from it. You wrap your arms over his shoulders and hold to him as you did during that first gunfight. 
“You too,” you whisper, your voice small enough to packed into a pulse rifle. You pull away before you let yourself melt away with the shock. “And tell me when you take Tatooine.”
“Of course,” Boba nods his head at you and glanced to his left. You follow his eyeline and see Fennec. Her lips quirk upwards when you meet her gaze.
“Watch the little duchess. She wants that laser sword.”
“I will.”
Fennec nods before she turns her attention to Boba. As if he never took it off, Boba’s helmet is already on. The dark visor focuses on you for one last moment before he starts off towards the bridge exit, Fennec on his heels. You watch the pair go for a moment, mentally tracking their path to the hangar where the Slave I rests in wait. At the thought of the old beast, your chest aches. The discomfort lingers only slightly as you turn your back on the only life you had known and to the darkness of space shown through the viewport.
“Fett, what a legacy.” 
Your body tenses at the sound of Gideon’s low voice. When you turn your eyes over to where he is bound, you see dark eyes locked on you like a TIE target. 
“To throw that all away for a dangerous sect of disenfranchised Mandalorians.”
“I am Mandalorian,” you said, starting towards him. Each step you take is with purpose, calculated to reach the total sum of Gideon’s fear. You see how his eyes widen slightly and feel a rush of satisfaction further dulls the ache of Boba leaving; of you staying. “And, the last time I watched the holonews, it seemed that the New Republic labeled your broken Empire as a terrorist sect, disenfranchised from power rather than freedom.”
Gideon shifted, his cape collecting more dust and wrinkles as it rested on the floor with him. He opened his mouth to speak but you quickly turned to Cara. She was smiling, watching Gideon flounder. When she raised her eyes to yours, she grinned.
“That may be the most I’ve ever heard a Mandalorian talk in one go. Mando is always so...quiet.”
“Speaking of,” you glanced back at Bo-Katan and saw her eyes on you. In the hopes she wouldn’t hear, you leaned closer to Cara. “Where is he?”
“He walked off the bridge when the Jedi left with the kid. He went down the hall and to the left.” You nodded at her in thanks and glanced down at a scowling Gideon.
“I think the bindings should be tighter,” you said before walking off in the same direction as Din. With every entrance of new hallway you walked past, you peered into each, searching for him. He had been rocked, set a kilter by the Jedi that had stormed in for a rescue. 
He had lost the only family he had known, just as you had decided to let yours go. You could feel your own loneliness creeping up your spine and could only imagine that he felt the same doom sneaking after him. Despite being a hunter, you knew that you could not save him from that feeling, just as you could not entirely save yourself. Though, maybe, you could keep each other’s company and scare off the dark together.
The thought made you cringe. Boba was right: you were tied to Din. Pathetically stuck to him, nearly a stranger; but a stranger with skill. On Tython, you had seen him fight off a few Stormtroopers before running after the Child. He had bested a Darktrooper too, from what Cara had gotten Gideon to admit. He was a stranger with heart too.
A stranger willing to break his Creed, the oath he asked if you and Boba had taken, to say a true goodbye to the Child. In the moment, you didn’t catch a good look at his features. You saw only his head of dark brown hair and the curved tanned skin of his cheek. His looks don't matter to you though. You were already taken by him, from the moment he stood up to Boba on Tython, was ready to lie his life down for his Child. 
You were so lost in the memory that you nearly overlooked the shine of his beskar in an abandoned meeting room. Silver casted in his armor, Din was starkly outlined against the blackness of space that shown outside the viewpoint. His helmet was still off, held tight in his left hand. The sight felt sacred, as if it were wrong for you to be looking at even the back of his exposed head.
“You can come in.” While he was only a few paces away from you, Din’s voice sounded far off. Slowly, you took a step inside before taking pause.
“Do you want me to walk in backwards?” Despite the seriousness in your tone, you hear a small, breathy chuckle from Din’s direction. “I’m just trying to be cautious.”
“It’s appreciated,” Din said and, much to your surprised, you watched as he turned his head. In the dark of the Imperial meeting room, it was hard to make out his features but you could feel him looking at you. “But not necessary. Not anymore, not right now.”
Defeat was plain and heavy in his voice. You were familiar with the weight of it, having heard it in your own after your first, and only, failed bounty. Slowly still, you started towards Din again. As you moved, you catch Din’s head turn back to face the stars. Closer now, you sneak a glimpse at the side of his face before settling at his side.
He was handsome, a word you thought you would never use before. Granted, on Tatooine, there weren’t many beings you felt adequately captured the essence of the word. Din, however, with his strong, curved nose and scruff-covered jaw fit the bounty. Not to mention the dark of his eyes that looked like empty space itself. Full of mystery, Din’s eyes were, and you were ready to dive right in. 
Then Boba’s words echoed in your head. Any being can see it. At Din’s side, you forced your body still. Movement, nervousness that only Din could spark in you, could make your feelings all the more obvious. Now was not the time for that.
“You miss him already.”
“Yeah.” You snuck a glance at Din. His eyes were fixed on the view port, distant, like his voice. It was like he was trying to chase after the Child but was lost in space. You had no idea what to say to ease his search, his pain. Luckily, you didn’t have to.
A fast whoosh sounded out from the hangar below and distracted both you and Din from others presence. Roaring of a familiar engine reached your ears and, as quickly at you recognized it, the Slave I shot out of the light cruiser hold. Silently, like a swift and stalking hunter, the ship you were raised on rushed away. You watched it go until your lost the shape of it, saw it meld with the stars. It was then you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
You looked over at Din and found that he was facing you now. Features once hidden under layers of beskar were now on full display. Din looked older than you imagined. There were strands of grey in his hair and patches in his scruff. Crows feet crinkles were gathered in the corners of his eyes; though it couldn’t be because he smiled so often, not with a life like his. Not with a life like yours, like all other Mandalorians. 
“You didn’t go?” Concern, in his voice and in his brown eyes, warmed your chest. You could only nod in response. “Fett, what are you doing?”
“Making my own way, like all Foundlings must.” Unable to hold yourself back, you nudge softly Din with your elbow. “Like you are. What you did was brave, even if it broke your rules.”
“You inspired me,” Din said, his voice nestled closer now around you. You held his gaze with a quirked brow, entreating him to continue. “Remember what you said on Morak before Mayfield and I went in?”
“‘Don’t get killed’ wasn’t it?” 
For the first time, you see Din smile. It’s not like Boba’s smile, the only other Mandalorian you had known. Din’s smile showed his teeth, even if it wasn’t for more than a second. Lines in his face grew more pronounced around his lips. You forced yourself to look away from his mouth and back out of the view port.
“No, I don’t remember.”
“You were talking to Boba. He said I wouldn’t break the Creed, even for the kid, if I had to. You said that I would, that my heart was in the fight.”
Want edged Din’s voice, powerful enough to get you to look up at him once more. His dark eyes were on you still and you don’t think they ever left. They dropped from your eyes to your lips and back again. As small as the shifting glance was, it was enough to tickle your stomach. You had to force yourself to stay still and quiet.
“You were right.”
“I am, most of the time, you’ll find,” you say breathlessly. It’s all you can manage.  
“Is that why you’re sticking around?”
“What?” You lick your lips nervously and curse yourself for it. 
“Because your heart is in this fight,” Din extends his hand as he speaks. In his open, gloved palm, the hilt of the Darksaber rested. You hadn’t truly even entertained the weapon, what it meant and stood for. Instead, your mind was clouded with Din, with want.
“In a sense.” 
Din raised his brows at you. “That’s a Guild answer. A hunter answer. Give me yours.”
You already know it, you want to say but you held your tongue back. Silence, tense and unyielding, fell over the two of you. Din held your gaze, not backing down on his request. It had taken him a few minutes, but he had found his confidence without the helmet. You smiled at the thought; he was a true Mandalorian. A sense of ease overwhelmed you, made you too comfortable and your tongue too loose.
“My heart is in the hands of the fighter.” 
You reached your hand over and pushed Din’s fingers closed over the hilt of the Darksaber. For a moment, you fingers lingered over his. You savored the warmth before pulling away. Finding enough courage, you held Din’s gaze again and felt your fear dissipate.
“But I think he knows that already.”
Din swallowed hard before replying, “he does.”
Burnt by embarrassment, you took a step back from him. Just as you were about to take another, dismiss yourself from the conversation and your ultimate rejection, there was a clang. You watched as Din’s helmet hit the floor and as he reached his newly free hand out. His gloved fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back. You took not of his eyes again, how they flicked between yours and your lips. Was he nervous too?
“And he feels the same.”
“You-”
“I feel the same,” Din clarified, eyes focused solely on your face. 
Then, it was just the two of you again. Two Foundlings once lost then found again by the other. Wed to the fight but tied to each other. This was the way, wasn’t it? You felt sure it was.
When Din bent down and captured your lips with his, you felt all the more strongly about it. Whatever way, whatever path Din followed, you would be close behind. You were two bounty hunters, fallen from grace and into a world unprepared for what would follow.
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legobiwan · 3 years
Text
Book of Boba Fett: 1.3 "Chapter 3"
Was there a title for this episode? Somehow I missed it.
Anyway, uhhhh, what is going on with diamond spider here in the intro? Come on, Disney, up your CGI game a little bit. (Also, did Obi-wan have to fight a giant spider at some point during his stay on Tatooine?)
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Oof, these Tatooine "present-day" sequences are a lot of exposition dumping.
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Now this, I find interesting. Imagine, if you would, a semi-underground cult following of Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader after the fall of the Empire. Imagine a bunch of Tatooine-born young adults modding their bodies the same as Anakin/Vader would have (of course, that's not the reality of it, but history has a way of getting warped). We get zero character development for the Back to the Future/Star Wars hoverboard gang, but there's part of me that would like to believe that the impetus for such body modifications lies in some seriously distorted history re: Anakin, especially considering their employment prospects seem no better under the New Republic than the Empire.
That speculation aside (and damnit, Sith cults would have been the perfect setup for the Sequel Trilogy one day I will outline my plot for the Sequels including all the known characters but with a wildly different plot arg). ANYWAY, Boba Fett's interaction with the BTTF-gang had me doing a bit of whiplash. I went real fast from, "oh no, don't be a Boomer" to "okay, this guy gets it." (And, like, the economics of Tatooine, especially post-Empire and post-Jabba, would be fascinating to get into and tie into Boba Fett's haracter development if this show could actually a) choose a storyline and b) be longer than Disney's seemingly codified 6-8 Episode format. Everything is just so fucking rushed.)
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I do have to laugh at the BTTF-gang a little bit. I swear I've seen this party somewhere in [redacted city] before.
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Full honesty, here. I prefer Clone Wars Pyke Syndicate. They were creepy as hell and "The Lost Ones" is a wildly under-appreciated episode if for nothing else, the absolute sense of inexorable demise present the entire time (not to mention the A+++++ duel with Dooku).
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At least Fennec has her priorities straight. Enjoy the damn food, Boba. (This is like, an almost Hannibal-esque montage).
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Exactly.
As for the rest of the episode, nothing much of interest really happens. I always enjoy a good Danny Trejo cameo (I'm assuming he'll die horribly just as he did in Breaking Bad) and I already made my Back to the Future parallels post earlier.
Unfortunately, this episode did rather little to forward the narrative. I also am fully aware of how the next two episodes play out and to be honest, I am not convinced we will get any kind of satisfying story out of this show. I will wait to pass ultimate judgement until the end, but so far, I would have been happier to have stuck with the Sandpeople/Boba Fett finding-a-new-identity narrative and leave out the supposed "underworld" dealings (which have been milquetoast at best).
I will say this. The relationship between the twin Hutts could be read as a little incestuous, which is probably the most interesting thing to happen in the present-day Tatooine narrative thus far.
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Ugh. I really want to like this show, but between this and some of Disney's recent Marvel shows, everything just feels a bit...beige, or at least, algorithmic. Like, I love the concept of Boba Fett forging this new identity and hanging up his mercenary boots, but the execution with the narrative has just not worked, especially in the present-day Tatooine sequences. Apparently the Mando episode is very good, so we will see when I get to that installment. Episode 3 = 6/10, mostly for the Back to the Future references.
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darthspideys · 4 years
Text
by your side
 -- din djarin x jedi! reader 
-- the reader I use in this is the same as the one in my din series antithesis (it’s the pinned post on my blog if you want to read it) but you don’t have to read it to understand this one 
-- SPOILERS FOR THIS WEEKS EPISODE, like tons of spoilers, the whole thing is a spoiler 
-- summary: you help Din complete his mission to get the coordinates to find the child, but when he comes back you can tell something is wrong 
When everyone else has given up their very good reasons for not being able to get past the scanner, Din looks at you. You don’t say anything at first, because you think he’s just looking at you until he can think of another option, but when he keeps looking you realize he thinks that you are a viable option. For starters, you don’t want to do it, because seeing stormtroopers of any kind fills you with a sudden urge to bash their heads in which would not be helpful in scenario and secondly, you are definitely not making it past the scanner. Suddenly, as the staring from Din continues, everyone else starts to look at you too. “I can’t do it either,” You make eye contact with every person in the group as you say it, “I killed the emperor, I am definitely in the system.” 
All eyes turn away from you at the same time except for Mayfield who narrows his eyes and takes a posture you are not happy with. “I thought Luke Skywalker killed the emperor.” 
Short answer: he did. Long answer: “I was there,” You cross your arms over your chest, “I helped.” He looks like he doesn’t believe you and suddenly it’s not just the stormtroopers head you're getting the urge to bash in. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you pull your lightsaber and ignite it suddenly, holding it in your hand absentmindedly just to remind him who he’s talking to. 
Din puts his hand out in front of you, the armor brushing against your chest. “Okay,” He says, looking pointedly at you in the way that he does the child when it eats something it shouldn’t. “I’ll go.”
Now everyone’s looking at him, including you. Mayfield speaks up again, “I’m a smooth talker but I don’t think they’ll let in a Mandalorian in full armor-” 
“-good thing I won’t be wearing it then.” 
And so the plan emerges: Mayfield and Din go and hijack the transport with help from Cara and you, then get into the refinery and get the coordinates you need. Easier said than done, as always but the little team that Din has managed to put together since you left Tython is actually impressive in it’s own way. You’re used to working in groups, but this is something completely different more like a mashing together of a lot of different people than a melded unit. Of course you know that this is the best you're gonna get to a team to take down Gideon and get the baby back, which is what you're going to need if you even want to stand a chance. 
Taking the transport is easy, and surprisingly nothing even comes close to blowing up. Din changes into the stormtrooper armor as Mayfield babbles on about something from the back of the vehicle. Din comes out from around the corner, decked in that protective stormtrooper armor and you can tell how uncomfortable he is just by watching. The way he walks shows that he’s used to the heaviness of beskar, and probably the security that comes from wearing it. He’s exposed, even if his face isn’t. 
He looks at you for a long time when he hands you the bag that contains his armor. You take it into your arms, think for a little too long about how heavy it is, and then reach over to squeeze his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you, and you want to know what he’s thinking but all you can feel is that determination to get the child back. That’s all you’ve been able to feel from him since Gideon took the child, that determination to get it back, not any grief, not any fear just the determination masking all of it, and that worries you. “We’re going to finish this,” You tell him, “You’re gonna get the coordinates and then we’re going to make Gideon eat fucking concrete.” 
He laughs, “What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know, I mean like slam his face into a wall or something,” You try to stop yourself from smiling, “I am trying to be supportive here, this is a very serious situation and I am being supportive.” 
“I don’t think that you're physically capable of being serious in any situation.” 
You roll your eyes, “I fought in a war, Mando.” You use the nickname you used to call him to make your point. “I am capable of a lot of things you’re not keenly aware of.” 
“Are you lovebirds done yet?” Mayfield says, “We’re still on the clock here.” 
You flip him off without even looking in his direction. He laughs from behind you, and Din shakes his head before walking off to join the other man. You stand by Cara’s side as they take off in the transport, and then head off to join Fennec at the next position. You both walk through the brush in silence, until suddenly a feeling jolts through your body. You freeze, and almost keep walking but then suddenly it hits you: Din. 
Something is wrong. You look out over the edge of the small cliff you’re standing next to, and see something small zoom off in the direction of the transport, and then something else of similar size at the same speed. You don’t wait before you start running, Cara calls your name but suddenly you are just rushing to get to the transport as fast as you can. You’re trying to get down the cliff without falling on a large rock when you hear the first explosion. It stops you in your tracks, and almost makes you fall down a very steep incline. You stand there for a moment consumed with the feeling of independent doom that’s been guiding your decision making thus far. A couple of seconds pass and another explosion sounds out and shakes the ground beneath your feet. You start off again. 
Finally you can see the transport to your left off the side of the cliff, and you can see what it’s fighting against. There are two hovercrafts full of pirates trying to get onto the top of the transport, trying to get to the substance inside to blow it up most likely. You can make out a small figure on the top of the transport, and you know it’s Din. Somehow you have to get down there, or both of them and the mission might be a goner. 
You take a couple of steps back, and repeat a mantra in your head: rock, tree, transport. Rock, tree, transport, and if you mess up on any of those then you’ll be dead which is something you're trying your best not to think about as you run and jump off the edge of the cliff. You make it onto the rock, and then use the force to guide you to the top of the transport. 
As soon as you land a pirate takes a swing at your head. You duck, fast as lightning, and then stand up and kick him off the side of the transport and onto the ground below. For some reason that only makes the rest of the pirates angerier, one charges at you and you duck again, rolling right under him. This inadvertently causes that one to pick Din as his new target, a fact which you realize a little too late. 
“I got it!” Din yells over the sound of the vehicle and the pirates growling. 
You turn your attention to the pirate in front of you, readying his spear to attack. Your hand reaches down for your lightsaber but you decide against it, suddenly remembering that you’re dangerously close to an empire base and fighting with a lightsaber could very easily tip them off. You’re going to have to rely on hand to hand combat, which you haven’t had to in many years, but there’s no other option. You suck underneath the spear, trying to get in hits while not getting skewered. Eventually you have the position to rip the spear from his hands and throw him off the back of the transport. That also clears another pirate out of the way and for a moment you think that the danger has been averted. 
That doesn’t last long. 
More pirates jump onto the transport, overwhelming you and Din for the time and suddenly a few of them make it to the compartment where the substance is being held. You and Din both see it, and he screams something at Mayfield that you can’t quite make out. You try and get the pirate off of your ass as soon as you can. Then you hear the sound of a thermal detonator being attached to one of the canisters. You and Din look at eachother with a renewed sense of urgency, and you throw the pirate off the side and run over to the canister. 
You stare at the detonators, unsure of what to do. 
“What are you doing?” Din yells. 
“What the fuck do I do?” 
“Just pull it off and throw it as far away as you can!” He shouts.
You use the force to pull the detonators off the canisters and throw them off towards the rest of the pirates a few feet back from the transport. It blows them out of the air, and you turn around to see Din still struggling to get rid of the last one. You throw the pirate right into the cliffside and fall onto the top of the transport. 
Din walks over and brushes himself off before holding out his hand to help you up. “How did you know?” He asks. 
“Just had a feeling,” You blow a piece of your hair out of your face. “I love you, okay? You can do this.” 
He squeezes your hand quickly, “I love you too.” 
You wait until you see an opening and hop off the transport and into the tree line. You head back to the meeting place with Fennec and Cara, finally free of the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. The rest of the mission goes in a blur, Fennec, Cara and you manage to keep enough imperials away for Boba to pick up Din and Mayfield off the roof. When all is said and done, Mayfield is released into the wild, and you're off to gather up your plan to get the child back from Gideon, you get a feeling again. 
This one isn’t one of impending doom, it’s of conflict, you can feel the turmoil and you can feel that something terrible has happened. The feeling is coming right from Din, but he seems to be avoiding you. When you settle down on Nevarro, and the various members of your team are out completing tasks for the eventual mission to get onto Gideons cruiser, you finally corner him. 
“You seem upset,” You tell him, “What happened?” He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look at you, just keeps his eyes on the floor. You put your hands on the sides of his helmet, not to take it off, because you know not to do that unless he does, but to try and let him know that you're here no matter what. 
“The coordinates required a facial scan, and I had to do it,” He says, and though you're surprised you don’t flinch. He pauses, “And then this commander insisted that me and Mayfield get a drink with him. I don’t even know how many people saw my face.” 
“Love,” You say, so many questions burning in your mind. 
He pulls away from you and shakes his head, looking down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have even put this back on, I don’t deserve to wear this helmet to wear any of this armor.” 
“You did it for the kid, Din. That kid is your family, and you have to do everything that you can for your family. It doesn't make you less of a Mandalorian, it makes you a human being, we all have to do things we’re not proud of. We do them, and then we try to move on and do better.” 
He sighs, and starts back towards you. “I feel like a fraud.” 
“Love,” You say again, “You are so strong, caring and smart and everything. You are not a fraud, and you’re not a traitor. You are a person, a human being who's allowed to make mistakes, and who will do whatever it takes to protect the people he loves.” You lean your head against his, “And you are everything to me.”
“I love you,” He half whispers. 
“I love you too.”
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burnwater13 · 6 months
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Cad Bane firing his blaster at an unseen target on the streets of Mos Espa, on Tatooine, during the Pyke attack against Boba Fett. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar by DataWorks.
Tatooine didn’t get storms very often, but when they did, they were loud, long, and annoying. At least that’s how Grogu viewed them. His dad wouldn’t let him go outside and try to use the Force to stop them. Fennec wouldn’t let him explore the palace, for he didn’t know what good reason. Thank goodness, Daimyo Fett was willing to tell him a story. 
“I know most of your stories start out ‘It was a dark and stormy night’ or ‘Once upon a time’, or ‘Three Mandalorians walked into a tavern’, but this story starts out on a bright, sunny day, here on Tatooine.”
The Daimyo seemed rather serious, but then maybe he was worried about the storm outside. Grogu settled in and grabbed a gorg on a stick to eat and listened.
“I had not planned on making Tatooine my home. I have lived many places, none really better than the others. Certainly they each have their own special features. The plains of Lothal. The beaches of Cantonica. The rolling hills of Kashyyyk. But they all have their problems too. Corporations taking over. The Empire trying to destroy the place. Syndicates trying to take over and destroy the place. Take your pick, most planets have problems that are too hard for one person to fix. But not Tatooine. Here a single person can make their mark.”
Grogu heard Fennec cough sharply in the background and wondered if she was coming down with a cold. 
“Of course, it helps to have friends, something I was sorely lacking as a youngling. I had ‘Associates’… ‘Mentors’… ‘Bosses’. Let me assure you, they were all the same. They wanted me to use my skills to make them wealthy or powerful or both. But when you are young you are too excited. Its all new and wonderful. You think you have the power and that is exhilarating. Like piloting a starship for the very first time. It’s fun and purposeful. If you are lucky, you grow older and you realize that it’s boring. It’s a routine. And no matter what any planet looks like, they are actually all the same. There are people in charge and deals to made and people who benefit from those deals and people who are harmed by them. Eventually, you either become complacent or you become disgusted. I became disgusted.”
Grogu was surprised to find that Fennec was now sitting right next to him and she was also eating a gorg on a stick. 
“So when I survived that sarlacc pit, I promised myself I would work for no one but myself. Whatever goals or choices were presented would be ones I wanted and cared about and not what anyone else put in front of me. So, as you know, I became Daimyo of Mos Espa and the de facto leader of Tatooine itself.
I like this work, mostly. I get to help people. I get to spend my time on things that I care about. And, I get to remove the people from this planet who cause it problems. That is a grave responsibility.”
“Just like the shallow pit I have the Gamorreans push them into.” 
Fennec joked softly. Grogu hoped it was a joke. If you wanted things to stay where you put them, the pit couldn’t be shallow. Even on Tatooine. Or maybe especially on Tatooine.
“Fennec, don’t give the child the wrong impression. I am trying to be a force of good here. Yes, we make a certain amount of profit, but then we use that to improve our access to water or the safety of our starship ports and cities. Things that make life more pleasant here, despite our ongoing dispute with Nature.”
“Sure, Boss. I forgot. This is a bedtime story.”
Grogu would have pinched Fennec for that, but he knew that she would just pinch him back.
“Thank you Fennec. That is how I found myself, on the streets of Mos Espa, standing against Cad Bane, while you and your dad were dealing with the Scorpenek annihilator droids, and Fennec was taking care of other problems. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that Bane was once my mentor and I thought, my friend. But I should have known that Cad Bane’s only friend was himself and the only lesson he cared about was how to take care of himself. 
Bane was the one helping the Pykes secure the spice trade here after Jabba the Hutt was gone. Which meant that Bane was the one who put the Pykes up to killing the Sandpeople who saved me and made me part of their family. He was also the one who tried to kill your friend the marshal, Cobb Vanth. Learning that was not easy. To realize that he had no regard for me at all or the work we had done together… it helped me come to terms with who I wanted to be. The Daimyo of Mos Espa and Tatooine would never let a mercenary like Bane have free run of their planet.”
Daimyo Fett paused and Grogu and Fennec both reached for the same Gorg on a stick and then let go, each wanting the other to have it. 
“So like that storm out there, I felt my ancestors call for me to make things right. If Tatooine was to be my home then Cad Bane could not exist upon it, nor could he foul any other place with his selfish disregard for everyone else. And so he was ended, with the tool the Sandpeople had gifted me, my own Gaffi stick, on the streets of Mos Espa, in the dirt, where such criminals belong.”
They were all silent for a moment, thinking about the Daimyo’s words. 
“I suppose it would have been fitting if we had collected any bounty that had been on his head.”
The Daimyo spoke softly and broke the tension in the room. Grogu nodded his head and considered the Daimyo’s words. Fennec, on the other hand, disappeared as she so often did. Grogu wondered what she was up to, and then he remembered seeing Fennec discussing something with the Majordomo and Peli. Did she ask them to bring Cad Bane in cold? Or to arrange it? Hmmm. His dad had stowed something strange in the N-1. Grogu thought it was just a bag of black melons. But maybe?  No. Who would do that? Not a Mandalorian. Nope. Never. 
“Come along Grogu. Let’s visit the rancor. He doesn’t like these storms either and if Fennec is feeding him something or someone, I want to know about it.”
With that Grogu followed the Daimyo on their next adventure, the mystery of what happened to Can Bane ignored at least for a little while longer.
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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years
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Taking Care of Business (Chapter Nineteen)
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Summary: (Y/N), Din and the others recruit two familiar Mandalorians to help them rescue Grogu, and the pair shares a quiet moment before the siege on Moff Gideon’s cruiser.
Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Nineteen The Rescue (Previous Chapter)
“Maker, these Lambda shuttles are hunks of junk,” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, entering the shuttle’s cockpit and moving to sit in the main pilot’s seat. After checking that Boba hadn’t accidentally damaged any of its functions when he’d used the ion cannon or when he’d latched onto its roof, she began charting their course; they’d all agreed that if they were going to storm Moff Gideon’s cruiser, then they’d need all the help that they could get and Din was dead-set on a familiar group of Mandalorians. “‘Might of the Galaxy,’ my ass…”
Just as she finished prepping for the jump to hyperspace, Cara entered the cockpit and plopped down in the co-pilot’s seat. “I took care of the bodies, stowed their weapons in the back. How’d everything lookin’ in here?”
“There’s some very minor damages caused by that ion cannon, but nothing too serious. We’re just waiting on word from-”
“Come in, (Y/N).”
She pressed a button beside the shuttle’s communication radio and replied, “(Y/N) here. Is everything good on your end?”
“Yep, we’re ready to leave when you are.” Once she assured Din that they were, the shuttle shook as Boba unlatched the Slave I. “I’ll see you when we land. Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad. Be safe.”
(Y/N) smiled at his parting words, the Mando’a making her heart warm in her chest. “You too.” Switching off the communication radio, her hands flipped several switches before settling on one of the main levers. “Jumping to hyperspace in three…two…one.” She pushed the lever up, sending the Imperial shuttle flying into space; glancing away from the shuttle’s viewport, she took in Cara’s tense demeanor and furrowed her brow in concern. “Are you okay, Cara?”
The marshal glanced up with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. One of those Imps said some things that hit a little close to home, that’s all.” Nodding, (Y/N) moved to turn her attention back to the shuttle’s controls but stopped when Cara softly spoke her name and asked, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what made you decide to join the Rebellion?”
Biting her lip, (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before answering. “After my mother died and I left Naboo, I thought that I could turn a blind eye to the Empire and live my life the way I wanted. I’d spent my entire childhood under their control, after all; no one would fault me for wanting to enjoy my freedom. But the older I got, the harder it became to ignore all the suffering across the galaxy and when I caught wind that the Alliance Starfleet was looking to recruit smugglers, all I could think about were my mother’s last words to me…” Her fingers began playing with the bottom hem of her Shaak-skin jacket. “‘Choose courage over fear, and you can change the stars.’ So, that’s what I did.” She sniffed and let out an awkward chuckle before turning back to the controls. “I’m not sure if that’s the answer you were looking for, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”
“I just needed to be reminded of all the good people who fought on our side…so yeah, it was a pretty good answer.”
The pair spent the rest of the journey in comfortable silence, soon coming out of hyperspace and entering the planet’s upper atmosphere. (Y/N) landed the shuttle beside the Slave I and followed Cara out onto the planet’s surface, where Din and Boba were already waiting. Although they’d only been apart for a short while, (Y/N) felt herself begin to relax as her eyes met the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet.
“You three go ahead, Fennec and I can keep an eye on Pershing,” Cara gave them a brief nod before turning and boarding the Slave I, where Fennec was securing the clone engineer’s wrists in binders.
“Let’s hope that this idea of yours’ll work.”
Din’s hand came to rest on the small of her back as the three of them began walking towards the small outpost. “It’ll work, alor’ad.” They made their way through the quiet outpost and entered the nearly-deserted cantina, where two familiar Mandalorians were enjoying their meals in the back of the room; exchanging a glance with Din, (Y/N) followed him over to their table and watched as the one Din claimed was named Koska nudged Bo-Katan, who immediately looked up at them. “We need your help.”
Bo-Katan’s brow rose as she examined the three of them. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters. Some of us serve a higher purpose.”
Frustration was evident in Din’s voice as he shot back, “They took the child.”
“Who?”
“Moff Gideon.” (Y/N) frowned, taking in the sudden shift of Bo-Katan’s demeanor. “What?”
The Mandalorian looked back down at the table before replying, “You’ll never find him.”
(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from saying anything derogatory and Din’s gloved hands tightened into fists, but it was Boba Fett who decided to speak up. “We don’t need these two, let’s get out of here.”
Din and Boba began turning away but (Y/N) froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched Bo-Katan look up at the bounty hunter with barely-concealed distaste. “You are not a Mandalorian.”
“Never said I was.”
Koska snorted in amusement. “I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk.”
Chuckling, Boba stepped closer to the Mandalorian. “Well, if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” Koska quickly stood, her chin jutted out in defiance, and (Y/N) had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the scene the two were making. “Easy there, little one.”
“You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”
“All right, easy,” Bo-Katan commanded. “Save it for the Imps.”
After a tense moment, Koska sat back down at the table and (Y/N) sighed in relief as she focused her attention back on Bo-Katan. “We have his coordinates.”
The Mandalorian blinked in surprise. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”
“The Moff has a light cruiser; it could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”
Beside Din, Boba scoffed at his words. “You gotta be kidding me, Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass.”
(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms over her chest as both Mandalorians glared at the bounty hunter; it would’ve been less of a hassle to visit Tatooine and ask kriffing Cobb Vanth for help, she thought to herself, wearily watching Bo-Katan level her hardened gaze at Boba. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”
“This armor belonged to my father.”
“Don’t you mean your donor?”
Din and (Y/N), who’d both started forward to break up the confrontation, both froze in their tracks; the bounty hunters shoulders were tense as he took another step towards Bo-Katan. “Careful, princess.”
“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan smirked and both Mandalorians stood, their meals long forgotten. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”
“Mine might be the last one you hear.”
Boba’s threat spurred Koska into finally attacking and the two of them began to viciously fight. Wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, Din tugged her to his side and held her securely against him as they watched the fight, sighing deeply in frustration. “Mandalorians.”
“I told you that we should’ve gotten Cobb Vanth’s help instead.” At her words, Din grumbled something under his breath and all she could make out was something that sounded suspiciously like ‘flirt,’ making the corner of her mouth curl into a small teasing grin. “I never would’ve pegged you as the jealous type, you’re such a calm and level-headed man…”
She could feel Din’s arm tighten around her waist and she just knew that he was rolling his eyes at her beneath his helmet. “Mir'sheb.”
“I love you too.” They both turned their attention back to the fight and (Y/N) nearly facepalmed when she saw the pair ignite their flamethrowers. “Dank farrik, this is getting ridiculous.”
It seemed that the second Mandalorian felt the same. “Enough, both of you! If we had shown half that spine to the Empire, we would have never lost our planet.” Boba and Koska both extinguished their flamethrowers and as the bounty hunter got to his feet, Bo-Katan turned to face her and Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” The Mandalorian stepped closer to Din, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed as she continued, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”
“Fair enough.”
Din let go of her waist and was beginning to lead her towards the cantina’s door when Bo-Katan spoke up again. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me, it is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.”
“Almost anything,” Koska interjected.
Bo-Katan nodded. “It cannot cut through pure beskar.” At her words, (Y/N)’s thoughts instantly went to Ahsoka Tano and her two pure-white lightsabers; why would someone who’s not a Jedi want a weapon like that, she silently wondered, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”
“Help us rescue the child and you can have whatever you want,” He nearly snapped, and (Y/N) could tell that Bo-Katan was beginning to frustrate him. “He is our only priority.”
“If we’re all done fighting with each other, we should head back to the ship.” (Y/N) interjected, turning and leading the way back to the Slave I; walking beside Din, she quietly asked, “Was it just me or was that whole Darksaber thing a little strange?” He nodded but remained silent, and soon they were all boarding the ship.
Bo-Katan and Koska joined Cara in pulling up a hologram of Moff Gideon’s cruiser and Fennec made her way over to where (Y/N) and Din were leaning against the wall of the ship. “These two seem like they’re fun to hang around.”
(Y/N) smiled in amusement. “Yeah, they’re a barrel of laughs. I’ve gotta admit, it’s a little aggravating that they care more about Moff Gideon’s cruiser and his Darksaber than Grogu.”
“I know, but we need them to get onboard that cruiser.” Din glanced over at Dr. Pershing. “Has he said anything yet?”
Fennec shook her head. “Nothing. Want me to make him talk?”
“No, it’s okay; I’ve got a feeling he’ll be helpful on his own.”
Bo-Katan called them over and they moved closer as she pointed to the hologram. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred but now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.”
“Your assessment is misleading.”
(Y/N) turned around to look at Dr. Pershing; the clone engineer was staring at the floor, his mouth set in a firm line. He certainly doesn’t act like the typical Imp, she thought to herself while Cara scoffed. “Oh great, an objective opinion.”
Dr. Pershing’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs. “This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you.” He turned to (Y/N) and after taking a moment to examine his pleading face, she nodded for him to continue. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”
Across from (Y/N), Cara began cleaning one of her knives with a spare rag. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”
“These are a third-generation design; they are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved…they’re droids.”
(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “It’s true, I saw them when they took…when they took Grogu.” She turned back to the clone engineer. “Where are they bivouacked?”
Dr. Pershing got up from his seat and moved to stand beside the hologram. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay.” He pointed to a section of the cruiser. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”
“And how long to power up?” Fennec asked, her eyes narrowing as she examined the hologram before them.
“A few minutes, perhaps.”
“Where is the child being held?” Din’s words were clipped and business-like, but (Y/N) could detect the pain in his voice as he spoke.
The clone engineer brought up a different section of the hologram that clearly looked like a cell. “This is the brig. The child’s being held here under armed guard.”
“Very well,” Bo-Katan examined the hologram while she continued, “We split into two parties.”
(Y/N) felt the smooth leather of Din’s glove brush her hand. “(Y/N) and I go alone.”
Bo-Katan sighed but nodded. “Fine. Phase One, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver.”
“And the two of us?” (Y/N) asked.
“We’ll be misdirection; once we draw a crowd, you two slip through the shadows, get the kid.”
Cara stopped cleaning her knife and glanced up at them all. “Those dark troopers are gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”
Leaning closer to the hologram, (Y/N) observed, “Their bay is on the way to the brig.” She looked over at Dr. Pershing. “Can we make it there before they deploy?”
He nodded. “It’s possible.”
“Here,” Fennec grabbed a code cylinder from the clone engineer’s pocket and handed it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”
Din clutched the code cylinder in his hand, the visor of his helmet looking down at (Y/N) while he replied, “We’ll meet you all at the bridge. Now, let’s start planning out Phase One…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After they finalized their plan, they all boarded the Lambda shuttle and entered hyperspace, closely followed by Boba in the Slave I. (Y/N) was seated in the main pilot’s chair at the others’ insistence; for their plan to work, they needed to look as if they were under attack by Boba’s ship, and there was no one better qualified to perform that type of flying than her. The others were keeping busy by cleaning their blasters and donning their armor, but Din was motionless in the co-pilot seat beside her; Moff Gideon doesn’t have a clue what’s in store for him when Din gets a hold of him, she thought to herself, her eyes still trained on the swirling blue outside of the viewport.
As if in-tuned with her thoughts, Din suddenly stood and asked her to join him in the back compartment. She followed him deeper into the shuttle and once they entered the compartment, she shut the door behind them; just as she was turning around to face him, she heard the unmistakable sound of his beskar helmet being removed and her heart leapt into her throat. She reached a hand out towards the control panel to dim the lights, but a larger hand appeared and halted hers; Din’s tanned fingers gently held her wrist, bringing it up to where he stood behind her and pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Please, I…I need you to see me, alor’ad.”
Taking a steadying breath, (Y/N) slowly turned around and looked up at Din’s face. Back in the refinery on Morak, she didn’t have much time to closely examine her partner’s features but what she had studied were his eyes; they were the warmest shade of brown and, much to her surprise, incredibly expressive. Meeting his concerned gaze had quickly calmed her down and made her feel safe in that mess hall, and the same was true in the shuttle’s back compartment.
Her gaze left his as she took the opportunity to examine the rest of him; his hair was also brown, the soft waves matted a little from the helmet, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, the hair above his lip a little thicker than the rest of it. His brow and nose were prominent, but his jawline had more of a curve to it, and the last thing she looked at were his lips; they were chapped and his bottom lip was more plump than the top, something that she’d noticed whenever they’d kissed in the dark on the Razor Crest. As she watched, his lips parted and when her eyes flicked back up to his, he was closely watching her with nervousness written across his features. Smiling, (Y/N) rested a hand against the soft skin and stubble of his cheek as she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing each knuckle before finally speaking. “Mesh’la.”
Din released a shuddering breath as his eyes darted over her face. “You…?”
“That’s Mando’a for ‘beautiful,’ right? Oh Maker, I didn’t say an insult by accident or anything, did I?” (Y/N) rambled, her panic beginning to rise as Din remained silent. “Son of a-”
In a flash, Din’s lips were on hers and he was kissing her with an unrelenting passion as his arms held her close. (Y/N) got over her initial shock and began kissing him back, her hands moving up to his hair and carding through the thick locks; Din moaned as her fingernails lightly scraped against his scalp and before she registered what was happening, he was hoisting her up into his arms and stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bunk. She was straddling his thighs and their bodies were flush against one another when they finally broke apart for air, but that didn’t stop Din; while she struggled to catch her breath, he began pressing kisses all over her face and neck, finally pulling away after kissing her lips one final time. He was beaming up at her, his brown eyes bright as his smile widened, and one of his hands came up to caress her cheek.
“I’d ask if you really meant that, but I already know that you do.” Din’s hand trailed down her neck to rest flat against her chest, right above where her heart was. “Because of this. You have the biggest heart, alor’ad, the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve ever met. It’s just…I can’t help but think I don’t deserve the love you’ve given me.”
“That makes two of us, Din.” (Y/N) replied, watching his eyes flutter closed while her fingers brushed the hair away from his forehead. “Sometimes I feel that you’re too good to me.”
Din shook his head, the loving look he gave her when he opened his eyes almost making her cry. “You deserve everything I can give you and more, you and the kid…” At the mention of Grogu, Din’s smile dimmed a little and his hand moved away from her chest to rest against the side of her neck. “(Y/N), if I…if things end up going sideways, I want you to continue our quest. Find a Jedi that will train the kid; you’re the only person I trust to do it.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) nodded. “Of course I will, but don’t forget what you promised me that day in the meadow. ‘Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.’” She held his face in between her hands and lowered her head to rest against his. “Please don’t forget that.”
“Never, alor’ad,” Din breathed, pressing feather-light kisses to her lips that managed to soothe her shaky nerves. “I could never.”
They sat there in the shuttle’s back compartment for several more minutes, their arms wrapped tightly around one another as they took solace in each other’s embrace. But their peaceful solitude came to an end when Din suggested they return to the shuttle’s cockpit and with a final kiss, (Y/N) slid off his lap and he put his helmet back on before opening the compartment’s door. That wasn’t a goodbye, she sternly told herself while they walked side-by-side, even if it felt a little like one.
Once back in the cockpit, (Y/N) resumed her seat, methodically checking system functions in preparation for Phase One as Bo-Katan took the co-pilot’s seat beside her. I’m not sure if she can be trusted, she thought to herself, watching the helmet-less Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye; Bo-Katan was hell-bent on finding Moff Gideon and retaking Mandalore, and (Y/N) had an uneasy feeling that she didn’t care who perished in her pursuit for vengeance. Her suspicions were confirmed when Bo-Katan called out, “Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”
“He’s ex-ISB,” Cara pointed out from behind them. “He’s got a lot of information, I need him alive.”
Bo-Katan merely shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”
That made (Y/N)’s brow arch but she stayed silent, her hands continuing to fly over the buttons and switches; despite the seriousness of their situation, she couldn’t help but thrill at the opportunity to pilot a ship in a combat situation again. She sensed Din moving to stand directly behind her seat just as Boba Fett’s voice emitted from the communication radio. “Prepare to exit jump space.”
“Copy that,” (Y/N) replied, pressing a blinking button beside her before resting her hand on the shuttle’s main lever. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock.”
Beside her, Bo-Katan smirked to herself. “And your shots have to look convincing.”
(Y/N) heard Din heave an exasperated sigh as Boba chuckled. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”
“Watch out for those deck cannons, okay? They’re real pieces of work; I’ve seen them take down X-Wings with a single shot.”
“Don’t worry about me, Captain, I’ll be all right.” Boba reassured her. “Just be careful in there.”
Nodding to herself, (Y/N) gripped the main lever and announced, “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”
She pulled the lever down and returned her hands to the joysticks in front of her as the shuttle exited hyperspace. Moff Gideon’s cruiser loomed ahead of them and her stomach clenched in fury, speculations about what they might’ve done to Grogu unwillingly filling her mind. Giving her head a small shake, she yanked the joysticks to the right and dodged the shots Boba aimed at them before connecting their communication radio to the cruiser. “This is Lambda Shuttle 2743, requesting emergency docking.” She swerved again, making sure that her flying didn’t look too skilled as she continued. “Repeat, requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!”
There was a brief pause before a female Imperial officer responded. “Copy, Lambda Shuttle. Request received. Stay clear of launch tube, deploying fighter squadron.” They watched as the one of the cruiser’s TIE Fighters deployed and with a sideways glance at her co-pilot, (Y/N) flew the shuttle towards the exposed launch tube; she winced a little when they were almost clipped by a second TIE Fighter and the female officer called out, “Request denied! Please clear launch tube until fighters deploy!”
“Negative, negative! We are under attack!” Flipping a switch above her, (Y/N) increased their speed and steered the shuttle towards the launch tube straight ahead. In all her time as a smuggler, she could honestly say that this was the first time she’d ever piloted a speeding shuttle directly into another ship and without a proper landing array; it’s like Ahsoka said, she thought as her forehead began to bead with sweat, good or bad they’re always memorable.
“Clear launch tube immediately!”
(Y/N)’s arms began to shake with the effort of holding the joysticks steady, biting her lip while Bo-Katan activated their landing gear just in time for them to speed into the launch tube. Behind her, Fennec shouted, “Hang on!” and Din’s gloved hands clutched the back of her seat when the shuttle bumped against the sides of the launch tube. (Y/N)’s hands were on autopilot as she flipped switches and slammed buttons and in no time, she succeeded in making the shuttle slide to a complete stop. Her chest heaved and she struggled to catch her breath as the others got up and gathered their weapons, a part of her in absolute disbelief that she’d succeeded in landing them safely inside the cruiser.
“Well, alor’ad, you finally convinced me,” Din remarked, watching as she got to her feet and drew her blaster. “Smugglers are better pilots than bounty hunters.”
That made (Y/N) smile. “I think you meant to say that smugglers are better at everything, not just piloting.”
“Don’t push your luck, mir’sheb,” He jokingly retorted, his gloved hand resting against the small of her back; the two of them made their way over to where the four women were preparing to lower the shuttle’s ramp. “Good luck.”
Cara flashed them both a brief smile. “You too.”
Once the ramp lowered, the four of them stormed out of the shuttle and began taking out the Stormtroopers that had surrounded them. Blaster fire and dying screams rang through the air while (Y/N) and Din waited to exit the shuttle, their free hands holding each other’s tightly until everything was silent once again; (Y/N) looked up at Din just as he turned towards her and gave him a firm nod. “Let’s go and get Grogu back.”
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A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!
Mando'a Translations: Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad-Be safe, captain Alor'ad-Captain Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Mesh’la-Beautiful Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain
Chapter Twenty
Taking Care of Business Masterlist
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