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stormkobra-5 · 2 years

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The Heir of Djarin

Episode 1: Fledgling

Summary: Din Djarin has spent nearly a decade in retirement on the uncharted moon of Yëa in order to hide Grogu from the First Order, but he’s in his late fifties and is fearing the day when the little guy is left on his own. Never did he expect a girl to drop out of the sky at such a perfect moment.

A/N: Welcome to the eight-episode event that is the beginning of a re-imagining of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy. This story I’ve been thinking up for awhile, after finishing the whole Star Wars series from start to finish recently (and developing an unhealthy infatuation with one Oscar Isaac...). Would Mando still be alive at the time of the Sequel Trilogy? It’s hard to say what he’d be up to if he were. This is written, of course, before season three of The Mandalorian, so... Inaccuracies are gonna suck after it comes out. This is also before reading the Poe Dameron comics by Charles Soule; I’ve only read up to vol. 2. In either case, this story is supposed to take place just before, maybe overlapping with vol 1? Although Poe already has Black Squadron formed...

Notes: I’m somewhat new to the technicalities of this fandom. Sure I can tell the difference between T-65 and T-70 X-wings, and I can remember almost every name and face, but a helluva lot of my knowledge for the Mandalorian culture comes from watching The Mandalorian and Googling my questions. You have been warned.

Warnings: This story is rated 14+ for canon-typical violence, action, and language. The OC main character is recovering from a traumatic backstory for the sake of the plot, so there is mention of distrust, social anxiety, self-doubt, and emotional damage. Later chapters may involve mature themes for drug usage (spice), excessive alcohol consumption, and clubs that imply adult entertainment (the main characters do not take part). Nothing explicit in any chapters.

_______________________________________________________________

STRENGTH is life, for the strong have the right to rule.

HONOR is life, for with no honor, one may as well be dead.

LOYALTY is life, for without one’s clan one has no purpose.

DEATH is life, one should die as they have lived.

This is the Way.

This is the Creed of the Mandalorian.

- - -

Resol’nare, The Six Actions:

Wear the traditional armor

Speak, read, and write Mando’a

Defend yourself and your family with the traditional arts

Raise your children to become Mandalorians

Contribute to your clan’s welfare

When called upon by the Mand’alore, rally to the cause

_______________________________________________________________

It’s the cold water on my face that wakes me up. Little droplets of freezing cold rainwater smack into my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, and I jump up, eyes snapping open and hands flying to wipe the water away. I’m overcome with dizziness-- the type that makes the world tilt dangerously, that makes you feel like you’ll just slide right off the Earth. I lay immediately back down to brave the cold rain with a pathetic groan, waiting for it to subside. Where am I? The question doesn’t even to begin to explain the confusion I feel as my vision clears and I start taking in my surroundings. Tall, green grass. There are some pine trees nearby. The overcast sky rumbles faintly with thunder, but no lightning flashes. This doesn’t make any sense at all, because the last thing I remember is laying down for a nap on the couch at home. My family... I’m annoying as hell, sure, but I very much doubt if they’d have drove me out into the middle of nowhere and dumped me. They wouldn’t do that to me. Besides, there are no pine trees anywhere near where I live. Not enough to make a forest solely of them. They’d had to have driven pretty damn far if that were the case. So what? Somebody break into the house and I manage to sleep through it? They decide to dump me for some reason? Was I drugged by the intruder? Did I sleepwalk right out the front door and nobody noticed? Though I haven’t sleepwalked since I was about four years old, so. Even after the dizziness subsides, I lay there in the growing puddle of mud trying to figure out what happened, why I’m here. I’m even considering alien abduction and a sudden ability to teleport when I hear footsteps. Footsteps means I’m not alone. Means someone might have answers. Maybe the one who did this to me? I don’t dare to move. Whoever it is has a heavy step, and something jingles, like a cowboy’s spurs. The grass rustles, shifts, and I’m greeted by a very strange sight. Leaning over me is a man wearing leathers underneath of a full set of mirror-shine silver armor, complete with a helmet akin to something a Spartan warrior might wear, without the mohawk of dyed horsehair. His cross-shaped visor is filled in with black glass, so I can’t see any details of his face. Or anything of him, really. Every ounce of skin is covered by leather, metal, or both. Hanging from his shoulders is a tattered old cape, and he wears a bandolier full of what looks like ammo. He has numerous pouches around his waist, holsters on his legs, and he holds a very long, sniper-looking rifle, though I’ve never seen anything like this gun before. For several minutes, the only thing to be heard is birdsong and the rain plinking off his armor. Then, he talks. “...You okay, kid?” He has the calm, stern voice of a soldier. I spend a lot of time around them, so I know this and take solace in it. I always feel safer and more at ease around military personnel. Always have. Though because of his helmet, it sounds like he’s speaking through a walkie-talkie. I’m surprised at the clarity, though. After a moment, I manage to nod, and start to push myself up. He leans down and helps me into a sitting position, offers me a flask of what I hope is water. Reluctantly, I take it, because my throat is dry and my thirst wins over my distrust of strangers. “Where am I?” “Yëa,” He replies, “It’s an uncharted moon, so I won’t be surprised if nobody finds you here. The interference from Elika probably messed with your sensors.” I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m even more scared than I was before. “...Ship?” It’s all I can manage to say, all I can manage to pick out of the slew of confusing words he’s just spouted off to me as if I should understand him. “Yeah,” He answers calmly, “It was nothing but a fireball. It’s a miracle you survived at all, though how you were flung and remained unscathed is almost more of one...” He must see the terror in my face, because he adds, “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” I shake my head, but remain silent. Now that I know I’m in the presence of a whackjob, my social anxiety has taken over and I want to run, very very far away, as fast as possible. He looks up at the sky, remembering his phony fireball, and sits down beside me. “Where are you from?” What am I supposed to do? Make something up? “Cincinnati.” I expect him to say something. Cincinnati where? Cincinnati, Ohio? Cincinnati, the home of the Bengals? Cincinnati, that’s not too far from here. What I don’t expect is for him to stare at me blankly. As if he’s never heard of it. “...Cincinnati,” He repeats, rolling the word around on his tongue like some weird new food. “What quadrant is that in?” “Quadrant?” Wonderful. I’m lost, have no idea why, and my only source of information is a crazy man. “Yeah. Quadrant.” When I give no answer, he tries something else. “What territory are you from? Outer, Mid, Inner Rim? Maybe you don’t know. What’s the last thing you remember?” “Laying down on my couch to take a nap,” I reply honestly, annoyed with how tiny and squeaky my voice is. What else am I supposed to do? I have no idea where I am or how I got here, and whether or not I’m lying or telling the truth, this crazy cosplayer is the only way for me to get home. Besides, he has a gun, even if it does look unusual, plus a lot of other guns and knives. He’s heavily armed. If I just keep my head down and play along, maybe he’ll point me in the direction of the shiny machines that carry people around. If I can find a road, I can find my way home. This, however, surprises him. He balks. “...You... A nap?” He asks this like this is unfathomable. Meekly, I nod. He stares at me for a second, then, “...That explains why I can’t find any wreckage of your ship, then.” Of course you can’t. Because it doesn’t exist. He points behind us, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “You came from that way. Fell right out of the sky and landed here, though it seems awfully gentle for somebody going that speed. I can tell you this makes no more sense to me than it does to you.” I turn to glance where he’s pointing. I only meant to glance. But then I do a double take, stop short, and stare, stunned, at what I see looming over the treeline. The man sees what I’m doing and watches my reaction. Watches as my jaw hangs and tears spring to my eyes, as fear overwhelms me and I start shaking. Because this, whatever this is, can’t be real, can’t be, is impossible, and suddenly I’m hearing Dorothy’s voice from The Wizard of Oz, her words entirely too close to home: I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore. All of a sudden the concept of alien abduction doesn’t seem too far-fetched now, or I am in one very vivid dream that’s not at all lucid. Because there, on the horizon, just visible as the gray overcast starts to pull away in the distance, is a great, looming mass of fire and black rock and lava in the place of where maybe the moon would be if you could see it in daytime. What’s worse is that I can’t even jump to my feet in alarm because when I try, I fall right back down after tripping on my own ankles. It’s a planet, a giant fiery planet. No, I am definitely not even on Earth anymore.

- - -

I hear the man saying something to me, but it takes a second before I can hear him. “Are you okay?” “Where am I?” “I told you,” He says, and I realize he’s not crazy, “You’re on Yëa. The uncharted moon of Elika, that planet you see there.” He’s standing now, looking down at me and clearly thinking, like I am. Except he’s calm where I’m panicking, trying to wake myself up my pinching my arm so hard it leaves a bruise, or even using my short nails until I bleed. Nothing happens, and the pain is all to real. “...You said you were from Cincinnati. Is that a city?” I nod. It’s all I can do. “What planet are you from?” “Earth,” I reply. He’s staring again, or maybe he’s closing his eyes. I can’t tell with his helmet on. “...Earth.” He crouches. He’s treating me like an injured, scared animal. I might as well be. “...Everybody learns about Earth in school. It’s where we all came from, eons ago...” I stare. I listen. And I try very hard not to scream. “...It’s a fairytale. A legend. But that would explain what I saw.” He looks back toward where he had seen me come in. “Everything went silent. The sky kind of... warped. There was a flash of light. A beam, a fireball... and then, I found you instead of a ship.” He looked back to me. “...What were you doing before you decided to take a nap?” “I was... I was...” I’d been doing what I did every day. I got up. I studied to prepare for my upcoming college classes. But I was so damn tired... Neither my brother or sister rejected the idea of me taking a nap to recharge. “I was at home,” I finally am able to say, “I was at home, with my brother and sister.” He swings back on his heels, not losing his balance even in all that heavy steel. “...At least, I know you’re not lying.” “How do you know that?!” I exclaim plaintively. “For all you know, I could be crazy!” He regards me carefully for a second. “I have a little friend who told me you were coming. That you’re special. Now I see what he means. You’re just lucky you didn’t end up on a Star Destroyer, or right in the hands of a Sith. You’d be dead or brainwashed by now.” Star Destroyer... Sith... Now he’s giving me words that I know I should remember but don’t. They sound familiar, but that’s it. He recovers his flask from where it landed in my staggering scramble away from the flaming planet in the sky. “Can you walk?” “I-I think so...” But I’m wrong. He helps me to my feet, but my legs give out almost instantly. I feel weak, like I haven’t eaten in days. All I did was skip breakfast. Thankfully, he says nothing. He leans down and scoops me up, carrying me toward the woods. “Do you have a name?” “I’m Laylah,” I reply, glad to have something I’m sure of. “Laylah Evergreen.” “I’m Din Djarin,” He says. “Din Djarin?” I repeat. His name sounds familiar. Too familiar. Like something I should know. Something I should automatically relate to a specific person... “Have you heard of me?” He sounds curious. Rightfully so. I would be. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. Maybe if I keep being honest and nice, he won’t turn on me like all the others. It’s never worked before, though. Not in my life. I better appreciate how nice he’s being to me now, because I know how quickly people can shift. Minutes, hours, days, sometimes even weeks. Never in my life has anyone ever stayed nice. I’ve never known why. I’ve just come to expect it. I need to get all the information I can out of him before he turns away, too. “...I bet that you’ve got memory implants,” Din Djarin says. “Huh?” He shakes his head. “Sometimes when a slave escapes or a First Order traitor slips out of their grasp, when they’re caught, they implant artificial memories and abandon them somewhere. Drives the person mad while they try to figure out who they are. It’s a sick form of torture.” “Oh,” is my squeaky reply, because that thought is terrifying. The thought of my mother, my brothers and sisters, none of it being real... It’s something that I’m gonna pretend isn’t a possibility. So I try to bring the conversation elsewhere. “Why do you wear that armor?” “This is the Way,” He tells me as he carries me into the treeline, following an old, beaten path. Under the shelter of the green pines, the rain subsides a bit. It’s a relief. “I’m a Mandalorian. What I wear is pure beskar, straight from the mines of Mandalore and very hard to find. I doubt any exists now, with the Empire having destroyed the mines and destroyed the planet... Its impenetrable. Not even lightsabers can get through it. It's a part of my sworn Creed to wear it with honor, and none can ever see my face.” “Why?” “This is the Way,” He says again, and I know that’s all I’m going to hear about the beskar. “What’s a lightsaber?” “The weapon of choice for Sith or Jedi. Laser swords. Very rarely, someone who is not either might have one.” “Are they like you? Following Creeds?” “In a way.” My stomach drops as he starts to walk a log suspended over a gorge. A waterfall barrels loudly and violently below, pounding into a river. One wrong move and we’re both dead. But Din’s strides are confident and unwavering, and before I have time to hold my breath we’re on solid ground again. “I know little of either of them. My people are the ancient enemies of the Jedi, but the few I’ve met have been alright. They’re more wizards than warriors, though.” “So, what? Space Harry Potter?” “I don’t know what that is.” “They’re just a bunch of fictional wizards.” I want to ask more questions-- about the Mandalorians, the Jedi and the Sith, about where I am-- but I go silent. I know that if I talk too much, he’ll be less inclined to answer me kindly, if at all, and I’m relying on his kindness right now. I need to time my questions carefully. Thankfully, the Mandalorian doesn’t point out the fact that I’ve gone silent. He seems just as eager to keep to himself as I am. Good. I don’t want to talk. With the adrenaline fading, my social anxiety and severely-introverted feelings are coming back. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that he’s carrying me, and I really don’t like it. It feels alien and is completely unwelcome, being this close to someone. I have to resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut and wait until it’s over, or just fight my way out of his grasp and run screaming. Fight past it, I tell myself, and force myself to remain calm, You need the assistance of Din Djarin. He’s your only source of survival. Luckily for me, the journey is over quickly enough. It feels like an eternity of discomfort, but probably only twenty minutes have passed. Our destination is what looks like a cave at first glance, but upon closer inspection I can see that the branches and underbrush have been placed specifically to hide a little wooden door. It’s a hut hidden in the rocks, one most people would pass by unless you were being taken right to it. Carefully, Din sets me down on a rock. The door is jammed into a crevice in the rock rather than locked, so it takes him a minute to open it. Inside, it’s very dim, lit by candles and one hole between two massive boulders that serves as a window. Smells of cinnamon and what might be mint tea waft out, comforting me. Cinnamon has always calmed me, and I’m thankful for the unexpected familiarity. Am I dreaming, or is what Din says true? Has my whole life been just a fabrication for a traitor or escaped slave? If I’m dreaming, then all I have to do is wait to wake up, although I’ve never experienced a dream where I feel every second, every minute, as realistically as I am now. Where I can smell and feel so vividly. It’s so much like real life that I’m suddenly worried about Din’s theory being true. If that is the case, though, and my whole life has been nothing but an implant for a fugitive... it would explain a lot. It would explain why my life has been a series of one bad thing after another, an essential prison for the seventeen years I’ve been alive. Although the thought of my family being nothing but a lie terrifies me. They were all I had, all I’ve ever had. My mother, Rochelle, my older siblings Thomas and Julia, my younger siblings Tristan and Jade. If they weren’t ever there, then does that mean I’ve always been as alone as I’ve felt? They have to exist. Even memory implants have to have something to go off of, right? So maybe they do exist, in this place where a galaxy actually has territories. I just have to find them. Once Din has the door propped up, he carries me inside. It’s small but comforting. There’s a single bed against the far wall, covered in pelts for blankets. Beside it is what looks oddly enough like a baby carriage. Hanging from the ceiling are herbs to dry, and what I think are rabbits and pheasants except they’re odd colors of green and have more limbs and eyes than I remember. I’m starting to feel a lot like I’m in Wonderland. Except I don’t remember chasing any white rabbits. There’s a table with a stool, a very small kitchen, and an open lean-to which holds changes of clothes. He sets me down on the bed and retrieves a blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders. He starts a fire in a tiny fireplace that doubles as a stove. Movement out of the corner of my eye startles me, and then I see something that probably tops the flaming planet and the six-legged green rabbit with a ring of teeth instead of a face. At least, it’s cute and non-threatening. Sitting up out of the cradle is something that looks a lot like Gizmo from Gremlins, except he’s hairless and green. He’s dressed in a tiny burlap robe, and his long ears twitch curiously when he sees me. He blinks, slowly, with large dark eyes that seem to know more than an infant should. “Say hello, Grogu,” The Mandalorian tells him softly from across the hut. “Badu,” Grogu says to me in the sweetest little voice, and waves a three-fingered hand in my direction. For the first time since I got here, I smile. I’m overwhelmed with a sense of relief and safety that I didn’t feel before. It feels like something is connecting me to the little guy, and maybe it’s the fact that this might be the friend that the Mandalorian was talking about-- it’s a ridiculous prospect, that a baby told him about me, but I’ve got this odd, strong feeling that I’m right. “Hello, Grogu,” I reply with my own wave. “I’m Laylah.” I want to ask Din what Grogu is, but that seems insensitive. Instead, I ask, “Is the the friend you told me about?” “Yes,” Din answers, “He sensed you coming hours before you arrived. Those Jedi I was talking about? They use something called the Force. It’s some kind of celestial energy. I don’t understand it, but it gives them strange abilities-- glimpses of the future, communicating telepathically, moving things with their minds... Sometimes, very rarely, Grogu will make an effort to tell me something if its important, but it tires him. So when he told me that a special girl was going to fall out of the sky, I watched until you did.” “Special?” “Badu,” Says Grogu. I smile again, reaching over to take his little hand. He’s tiny, and fragile, being so young; but as soon as our hands meet, I feel something... odd. A surge of power, a static and palpable energy that bursts into my arm. I feel it like the cold liquid of an IV, being pulled up into my veins and dispersed through the rest of my body. I snatch my arm back with a gasp. Grogu doesn’t look surprised by my reaction. His big eyes narrow almost knowingly as we stare at each other. “What is it?” Din asks. He’s stopped what he’s doing to see what’s going on, but only Grogu seems to know. “What did you do?” “N-nothing!” I cry, terrified that now I’ve lost my only means of survival over a misunderstanding. He’s going to kick me out into the woods because he thinks I did something to his kid, and I’m not sure I could survive out there-- I’m not Katniss Everdeen. “Not you,” He specifies, and my heart falls from my throat back to its proper location. “You, Grogu, what did you do?” “Du.” Grogu only grunts and buries himself deep into the blankets in his cradle. I’m rubbing my hand up my arm under my sleeve, trying to get the feeling back into it. Pins and needles prick at the whole length of my arm and my body feels fuzzy. “He always do that?” “No,” Din answers, setting the stool across from me. He hands me a cup of what I’m going to believe is tea, and I hold it in both of my freezing hands, grateful for its warmth. “I’ve only seen him react like that to someone once.” “Who?” I immediately reprimand myself internally for asking such a personal question-- but really, who would have been able to resist? Gizmo-baby from space injecting people with magic power isn’t exactly normal. “Sorry.” He waves me off. “Her name was Ahsoka Tano. She said that he was communicating with her, through the Force.” He pauses for a second, maybe for dramatic effect. “She was a Jedi.” I can’t help but scoff, though it’s also partly a laugh. “So you’re saying I’m a Jedi?” “There’s a difference between being a Jedi and being Force-sensitive,” Din explains softly, absentmindedly leaning over to tuck little Grogu in. “Being a Jedi means that you’ve been trained to harness the Force, be one with it. Being Force-sensitive means that you are aware of it, more so than most. It can be useful to you, I’ve heard. Some people who are Force-sensitive do end up becoming Jedi, but with you, we’ll have to wait and see.” “So Grogu...” “He’s a Force-user,” Din tells me, “Once, he was being trained in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and when it was attacked, he was the sole survivor. He would have been a very powerful Jedi. When I found him, I took him to Luke Skywalker, but Grogu decided that he would rather stay with me than swear himself to their training. Skywalker let him go, but Grogu can still utilize the Force. I’ve seen him lift creatures larger than speederbikes, stop explosions, heal fatal wounds, and even calm a rancor. Now, he’s sensed you... and at precisely the right time.” “...Right time?” Here’s the catch. There’s always a catch. The Mandalorian leans back, using the table to support his back. “I’m getting older. Any self-respecting bounty hunter in their late fifties is still out there, doing their job, but with the rise of the First Order, I took Grogu and went into hiding. He's powerful; if they found him...” He leaves the apparently horrible ending of his sentence for me to interpret, and I get the feeling this First Order isn’t very friendly. “The interference from Elika is the only thing that’s kept us safe. I can’t protect him like I used to. We haven’t left Yëa in a little under ten years.” My silent question is obvious. My eyebrows shoot to my hairline as I point to Grogu meaningfully. Din shakes his head. “His race ages slowly. He’s only the equivalent of a two-year-old human. Maybe in another fifty years, he’ll be more able to fend for himself. But I am human. I don’t have fifty more years in me. I’ve outlived all of my trusted friends, or the First Order has made their worlds unsafe. You can imagine how hard it is to try and find someone to take your place when you can’t go out and look.” I cock an eyebrow. What, you don’t have galactic internet? Though I guess if you’re trying to hide, posting a big Help Wanted: Need a Lifelong Babysitter for Space-Wizard Gizmo ad on your space-Facebook would probably be counterintuitive. But I see what he’s getting at. Here he is, worrying about dying of old age and leaving his kid unattended, vulnerable. Then I literally fall out of the sky, ripped from my home and my world for no foreseeable reason. “Not only that...” Din continues, blatantly ignoring any expression I might have as he watches Grogu sleep. He starts to rock the cradle. “But I’m one of the last Mandalorians. I don’t even know if there are other Mandalorians anymore. My legacy is over. I have no wife or children; my only family is Grogu. He’s a foundling, yes-- but it will be many years before he can continue the Creed.” “The Mandalorian Creed?” “Yes. He cannot do it on his own, not yet.” “And... you want me to follow in your footsteps.” He hesitates. “...Maybe. We’ll see. If you were to continue my legacy, I would have to take you as my daughter. You’ve only just arrived here, even if Grogu says you’re special. After all, how do I know you’re not crazy? Or a wanted fugitive with memory implants? In fact, there’s only one way for me to tell for certain.” His words leave me shifting uneasily. He wants me to take his place... And the fact that he would have to make me his daughter because of a Creed sets me on edge. The only father I had ever known was negligent and abusive. I’d come to associate that term with fear, unease, and abandonment. Just the word makes me want to run very far, very fast. I’ve been having a lot of urges to run recently. The Mandalorian seems to look me in the eye. “You were clearly sent here for a reason, Laylah Evergreen. We just have to figure out what it is. I know someone... if your arrival was that spectacular, she may have sensed you already.” “Another Force-sensitive person?” “In a sense. Her name is Maz Kanata. She always seems to know everything that’s happening everywhere. If anyone, she’s the safest person to go to, save for a Jedi, and nobody knows where Luke Skywalker is. She won’t speak a word to the First Order about us.” I scoff. “Seems just about everybody but you and me know more about my coming here than we do.” “So it would seem,” He agrees. “It’s going to take her a few days to get here after I send the message. Until then, you can stay here. Make yourself at home.” Oh. Wonderful. I’m grateful. Really, I am. If not for Din’s hospitality, I’d still be laying in a mud puddle. But I also detest the thought of staying in the same little hut as a stranger. I’d much rather be on my own. But I can’t actually voice any of this. “Thank you, sir.” Din nods, standing and moving over to the closet. He pulls out a couple of items-- a longsleeve shirt, pants, a belt made out of rope-- and sets them next to me on the bed. “You should get out of those wet clothes. These aren’t going to fit you very well, but maybe Maz can bring you some.” Before I can even finish saying thank you, he’s already back by the door. “I’m going to go send the message. I’ll knock before I enter.” After struggling with the door a bit, he exits the hut and closes it up. I hear him pull some of those branches over the door to conceal it. I wait until his footsteps and jingling belts fade before I so much as move. I put the tea on the table and change as fast as possible. The clothes he’s given me are soft and comfortable, dark brown-- but he’s right, they don’t fit at all. I’m swimming in them. I have to roll up the pants several times at the ankles and the hips, looping the belt twice around my waist to hold them up. The shirt is better, since it’s more of a dress to me and I can easily cover myself with that blanket for now. What’s worse is I hardly eat; I’m so skinny the pants threaten to fall down at the slightest movement. I fold my own outfit neatly, taking in how strange the skinny jeans and green flannel look against the homespun outfit I’m now wearing. Once I’m done, I set the clothes on the stool and sit back where he had originally placed me, blanket and tea and all. I try to sip it. It’s warm and sweet, like honey. I wonder if it’s drugged. What are Tristan and Jade doing right now, I wonder? I always tell them never to let me sleep for more than an hour. At fifteen and ten, my little brother and baby sister are fully capable of handling themselves, but has the hour already passed? It sure as hell feels like it to me. Have they tried to wake me up and discovered that they can’t? Din is knocking sooner than I expect. I jump, heart leaping into my throat. “I’m dressed,” I manage, voice cracking. He enters and wordlessly takes the clothes outside. I want to ask what he’s doing with them, but refrain from doing so. He turns in the doorway as if sensing it. “I wash all my clothes in a bucket at a nearby stream. I’ll put yours in with mine.” I thank him and he departs, leaving the door open behind him. When he returns, he closes the door most of the way but leaves it cracked. Outside, the sun is shining and birds are singing. At least, I hope it’s the sun, and not that planet, and birds instead of freaky rabbit mutations. Din pours himself a cup of tea. “So... How old are you?” The question catches me off-guard. It’s clearly an attempt at conversation, but I overthink and wonder why he’s asking. I clear my throat after a moment and answer him. “Just turned seventeen last December.” He stares at me. Now it’s my turn to ask, “You have no idea what December is, do you?” Din takes a deep breath and sits himself on the stool. “Well, Laylah Evergreen... It seems we have a lot to learn about each other.”

- - -

The first few days I spend with Din Djarin are peaceful but hellish. In all my life, I’d never had one kind instance with a stranger that has stuck. Everyone has always treated my family and I like enemies, and so we had grown used to it. Grown to expect it. Not to mention, social anxiety and being an introvert are making it very difficult to seem normal around a stranger. I speak very quietly and only to ask a question, or in response to something he says. Otherwise, I comment on nothing and make no attempts at conversation despite awkward silences. I ask where I should sleep, and he makes a new bed in thirty minutes with a couple of sticks and a stretch of hide. He gives me a few hide blankets and a pillow made of burlap and bird down, and I’m grateful. I watch how he does it and make mental notes, learning. He notices and gives tips and shows me tricks, which knots hold best and such. I’m grateful, but I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep because Din Djarin’s house is full of weapons. He’s very clearly trained and could overpower me in a second. My only option is sprinting as fast as I can out of the door he usually keeps open, using Din’s age and armor against him if he attacks. I can’t sleep because Din Djarin sleeps in his armor, leaving early in the morning to wash it and bathe before making his rounds, checking his snares and traps for food. But he sleeps in his armor, as if always prepared for battle. I don’t ask him about it because I’m scared of his reaction, and a part of me knows that his response will be “This is the Way.” Maybe he was a soldier once and old habits die hard. The only thing that puts me at ease is the fact that he sometimes shifts, half-asleep or maybe fully awake, to rock Grogu’s cradle. During the day, in my own clothes, I ask him what I can do to help with the daily routine. I don’t want to feel useless and I need to keep moving. He has me collect firewood. He shows me where I can wash clothes and where his traps are, how to collect the animals without damaging the meat. He shows me his garden, where he collects herbs. We split the daily duties, half-and-half. I’m terrified of doing something wrong, like I always do, and then Din will return to doing it all himself, leaving me useless. But when I do get something wrong, Din only quietly shows me how to do it correctly once more, and then I get it. The worst he got was showing mild frustration when I brought home one of the demon-rabbits with a torn leg. “Dank farrik, did you just pull on it?” “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” “Let me show you how to save what you can of the catch.” He’s being nice, and I’m not used to it. I want to tell him to yell at me and tell me how I need to be doing it, why didn’t I do it that way in the first place, why can’t I get it? But he doesn’t. He remains calm and honestly it’s scaring me. I cry a lot in those first few days. Privately, of course, because I vowed a long time ago that nobody would see me cry, especially strangers. It would take a lot for me to cry in front of somebody. My “safe place” was always the bathroom, curled up beside the tub, where nobody could reach me. But there’s no bathroom here, only an outhouse, so I cry all my tears when I’m in the woods by myself. I think maybe Din might be able to tell sometimes, when my face is still red and splotchy, but he never says anything to my relief. Because if he asks me what’s wrong, I know I’ll break down, and if I cry then I show weakness. Weakness isn’t something that I can afford. Already, I’m too quiet, but quiet means thoughtful and careful. Wary. Weakness, on the other hand, means vulnerability. And if I’m vulnerable... No, I won’t let Din or Grogu see me weak or vulnerable. Sometimes I think maybe I am like Katniss. I feel like her a lot, trekking through the woods to collect game and forage. Although my braid, however, is much longer. Dark and thin and entwined with a russet ribbon, it goes all the way down to my mid-thighs. I keep it long in honor of my Cherokee heritage; I’m quarter Cherokee, and I’ve always been proud of it, even if my skin is pale instead of tanned. A very special thing to me I always carry on me, and still thankfully have, is a bear claw on a suede cord, the head of which has been carved into an eagle’s head. It was given to me by my grandfather, and since I’ve only ever taken it off to sleep and to shower. Now, I don’t take it off at all. I won’t lie, I miss my family with everything in me. But whatever this is-- death, coma, a dream, even recovering from memory implants-- I’m starting to feel more and more like it’s home, even with the presence of Din and Grogu. Here, everything is easy. At least, for us it is. We eat, we work, we live. There’s no struggle for money. No struggle for jobs that won’t hire. No struggle for college or constantly hearing of one catastrophe after another. Of course, there’s the war. Between the Resistance, a band of rebel fighters led by General Organa, the once-princess of Alderaan and an esteemed senator; and the First Order, a cruel organization bent on ruling through power and force. Merciless, without empathy, they steal children to brainwash into mindless soldiers designated by numbers rather than names, and are ruled by a mad Sith Lord named Kylo Ren-- although not everybody is convinced that they’re all bad yet, and they’re not exactly at war. Yet. The Republic remains unconvinced, so General Leia Organa has formed a Resistance to oppose the First Order. This galaxy isn’t perfect, not by any means. There’s cruelty and loss and a constant battle between good and evil. But it’s a hell of a lot better than having everything condensed onto one, suffocating planet. Ten days have passed since my arrival here. Ten days since Din sent out the message to Maz Kanata. Sometimes now, I’ve fallen asleep, whether out in the woods or at the hut, and I’ll wake up to Din having found me and carried me back or placed a blanket over my shoulders. Exhaustion has won over my distrust, and I can sleep again, although the strange location still has me waking up long before I used to. Din and I are up just before dawn most days. And just when I think Maz Kanata isn’t coming, Din gets a call on his comlink in the middle of breakfast, making all three of us jump. A whole two weeks for the Galactic Standard Calendar, Din has only just told me. A whole two weeks of days named strangely on a calendar with ten months instead of twelve and 368 days instead of 365. Grogu nearly spills his gruel. Din-- who was eating outside because I can’t see his face since he strictly follows the Way-- does drop his food, and it clatters onto the rocks before the front door. He pulls his helmet down before kneeling down to pick up the bowl. “Dank farrik...” He comes inside to grab the comlink off the counter and goes right back out. I hear him talking to somebody as he walks away, and I’m suddenly nervous. Butterflies do somersaults in my stomach. If Maz gives me the option to go home, will I really take it? I’m comfortable with my family, but we suffer. I don’t want to leave them behind, but I don’t think I could bear to leave this paradise where I might be able to grow used to Din Djarin and Grogu the space-Gizmo-wizard. I might even be able to grow used to the disturbing wildlife. And honestly, the more Din has taught me, the more appealing becoming his apprentice sounds. I want to live here. I want to learn the Galactic Standard Calendar, their letter system of Aurebesh, their slang and even Mando’a. But saying all of this is very difficult for me, especially when I don’t trust Din. I’m still waiting for his kindness to fade. Although, he’s making it very confusing for me. Seventeen years of mistreatment has left a lasting imprint that I hate, but can’t fight. My instincts are torn between thinking I might be able to trust him and warning me that I should not. The fact that I’m wearing one of two outfits he helped me cut and resize so that I have something more fitting to wear only adds to it. The fact that he’s simply accepted the girl that was suddenly flung onto his planet, disoriented and confused, makes it even worse. I wonder what Mom would do. Or what any of my siblings would do. They’d stay, definitely, so long as we were all together. But this decision I need to make for me. They may love me, and I love them more than anything, but if this is my path... Strangely enough, I hear the voice of Din echoing in my head: “This is the Way.” Din returns shortly. He peers around the corner, gesturing to someone behind him. Following is a very old woman-- but she’s not human. She’s a spry elderly female humanoid, but the resemblance to a human ends there. She’s completely hairless, her wrinkled skin the color of apricots. She squints at me from behind a pair of silver goggles strapped to her over-large head, her spindly body fidgeting as if anxious to move. “Hmmm...” She drawls out. I stand, nervous. I hadn’t been prepared for her visit. My hair is still messy from bed and I haven’t changed out of the outfit that I designated for pajamas. It’s been splattered with gruel from Grogu’s spasm when the comlink flicked to life, and I’m nervously trying to smooth down the shirt-tunic and pat my bedhead down all at once. Din clears his throat. “Maz Kanata, this is Laylah Evergreen. Laylah, this is Maz.” “I know who she is,” Maz replies mysteriously, adjusting her goggles and coming closer. I may be short, but I still kneel to be at her eye level. “Everyone Force-sensitive in the galaxy knows who she is.” “That’s dangerous,” Din says, and I know I’ve bought my ticket to getting shipped away just by existing. Maz waves a hand, but doesn’t take her eyes off me. “I said they know who she is, not where she is. Most people only felt something off. I’ve been hearing about the disturbance for days now. Those of us whom are more in-tune with the Force...” She reaches forward and grabs my chin, moving my head from side to side. But here’s the problem: it takes every fiber in my body not to leap back from the sudden contact, especially there. Imprinted into my brain is my father trying to make me look at him, and fearing his wrath, I hadn’t been able to move. Every time someone touches my chin-- which, it’s rare for anyone to touch me at all besides my family-- I see his face. It brings tears to my eyes, but if Maz notices, she doesn’t say anything. She steps back, and I take a few shuddering breaths, trying to push the thought of my father out of my head. Maz’s eyes bore into mine. “...We saw her. Leia sent for me immediately. Luke, I’m sure, wherever he is, saw her too. Horribly enough, this means that we know Kylo Ren saw her. Thankfully, they don’t know her location. They only know her as The Girl Misplaced. She’s not from here. She’s from another time and space entirely. The Force wouldn’t have reacted so otherwise.” “Wh-what does this mean?” I mutter softly, now wondering how many other people saw me before their eyes. “It means,” Maz says, “That your destiny is meant to play out here. Which is why you are here. I haven’t felt a ripple in the Force like that in a thousand years--” I balk at her age; she doesn’t look that old, “--and I doubt I’ll see it again for another thousand, by which point you’ll be long gone.” “So... You mean...” “Leia knows that I came to you; she told me to tell this to you gently, but I can’t think of any other way to say it,” Maz shakes her head, taking my hands in her tiny ones. “This is your home now, Laylah of Earth. I would make your peace with it now, and accept your fate sooner rather than later, else it will come upon you too quickly.” I’m crying before I realize it. I’m screaming at myself internally for showing weakness in front of not one, but two strangers, but I can’t help it. I missed my family, but I didn’t realize that I should have been grieving this whole time. I can’t go home. I’m stuck here, for the rest of my life. But isn’t that what I’ve always wanted, to get away from Earth? Isn’t this a good thing? My siblings would be upset-- Mom would be devastated. But I know that given the option to come back and I was happier here, she’d want me to stay. Our happiness has always come first for her. But knowing that I’ll never see the faces of my family again hits me hard. I don’t even have any pictures. All I have is the bear-claw pendant at my neck, all I have left of them. I squeeze it hard enough for the edge to cut into my palm, trying to sear their faces into my mind. Their voices, their smiles and laughter. All the good memories. Every time I look at it, I’ll think of you. Always and forever. If I’d have known that nap would have been my last day on Earth, I would have told Tristan and Jade I loved them. I’d have called Mom at work. I’d have called Thomas and Julia. But they know I loved them, right? Maz pulls away, turning to Din. “She’s in your charge now, Din. This child-- she needs your protection and care. It’s unlikely that the First Order will find her here, but you can never be too careful.” “I know, Maz,” Din replies, and I realize that he’s already come to this decision. Taking me in, like he took in Grogu. He’s been teaching me since the day I got here, because he knew I would likely never be able to go back. She hands him a bundle. “Clothes for the girl. When she’s ready... don’t question her path.” “I won’t. And thank you.” Din bids her farewell, and I manage to thank her as well, and then she’s gone. As if she hadn’t just delivered life-altering news. For several minutes, Din stays in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Grogu has somehow managed to climb down from his chair and is resting his hands on my thigh, babbling soft noises of sympathy. I scoop him up and hug him, the first hug I’ve had since my arrival here. After a moment of hesitation, Din sets the bundle down and crosses the room, wrapping his arms around both of us. “I’m sorry, Laylah.” “I already knew,” I managed, torn between hating the embrace and leaning into it for some semblance of comfort. Grogu uses his sleeve to dab at my face, and I can’t help but smile. Your destiny lies here. I refuse to lay here and bawl my eyes out for days. I’m going to do what I was sent here to do, wherever my path takes me, for better or worse. I’m not going to let my sudden breach of time and space have been for nothing. Then I really will have always been useless. I refuse to repay Din’s kindness by becoming lethargic and wasting away. I’ll get strong, and I’ll... I’ll learn the Way. What else can I be meant to do? Din needs an apprentice, and I just happen to land here of all places? I’ll accept that as more than coincidence. For you guys, I think, envisioning my family. I’m still crying though, even as I smile. I know the grief will last for a long time before dulling, but I’ve been through loss before. Hasn’t everyone? “Foundling sounds stupid for a girl my age,” I choke out, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “Makes me sound like I’m four years old. How about fledgling? Sounds like I’m just about ready to sprout wings.” Din chuckles and rubs my shoulder. Grogu chirps excitedly and squeals, hugging me tighter. “Fledgling it is.”

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Thanks for reading! New episodes are posted Wednesday nights. If anybody wants to be tagged, just let me know!

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years

Text

Please accept this Frankie morales thought in apology for me being so inactive!

Meeting Frankie for the first time

***

Imagine the first time you met him, you actually met his daughter first. You were walking through the aisles in the local grocery store, pondering between pasta or pizza. You grabbed the various things on your list, the shopping cart being pushed by your forearms in a slow sweep of the store, your thoughts elsewhere.

Just as you go to grab a box of cereal, a little hand wraps itself in your palm. Your eyes widen at the little girl attached to your hip now. She sniffles and wipes her red eyes with the pink sleeve of her unicorn shirt.

Bending down you scoop her into your arms, heart melting at the sight of her, too precious to resist.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.” You coo to her, rocking her shaking form in your arms and patting her back as she grabs onto your shirt and clenches the fabric in her little fists.

Her tears start to subside as she calms down, leaning back slightly she peers up at you with deep expressive brown eyes.

“Hey there.” Your voice is soft as you put on a small smile. “Do you know where your mommy or daddy is?”

This seems to upset her even more than before, her eyes fill with more tears and she pouts as she tucks herself back into your neck, frantically shaking her head no.

You rub her back and play with the brown curls at the base of her neck. “That’s okay, we’ll go find them.”She leans back again to look up at you and nods her head.

You hold her on your hip as you push the cart around the store, this time at a faster and more present pace. No longer do your eyes sweep the various containers and bags of food, but they rather sweep the people.

Over the next few minutes you become her best friend. She points at brightly colored packages and sweets and you laugh as you tell her what they are. Now instead of a pout, she holds a bright smile and excitingly giggles at your jokes.

Barreling down the aisle comes a man, hat atop his head and grey T-shirt hugging his arms and chest. “Dios Mío, Maria. No hagas eso de nuevo. Do you understand me mija?”

You watch as her eyes open wide and her smile grows even bigger. She looks at you and then turns to the man, both arms reaching out. “Papá!”

He instantly scoops her from your arms and hugs her close to him. Finally he meets your gaze, those same deep expressive brown eyes staring at you.

“Thank you, I cannot thank you enough.”

Struck by the handsome features and soft voice of Maria’s father, your eyes flick down to the hem of your shirt. “It was nothing.”

His voice calls your attention back to him. “No, it was everything. She’s been running off recently and I swear I’m going to be fully gray by forty-five.” He chuckles and looks back at his daughter. “Maria, what do you say to the pretty lady?”

You can feel heat rise through your body at the compliment. Your eyes flickering down to his hands, happy to find his fingers bare and with no ring.

Maria looks up at her father, then at you before uttering the faintest and cutest thank you you’ve ever heard before.

A smile overwhelms your face at how adorable she is. “You’re welcome Maria.” Her face lights up at the fact that you know her name. “How old are you?”

This seems to stump her and she looks back up to her father for help. He softly sighs. “You know this, you’re four.” He holds up his hand, four fingers on display. “Four, mija. One, two, three, four. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro.” With every number you watch as he pats her nose.

This seems to be the funniest thing yet because she erupts in giggles and tucks herself back into his neck, small body shaking with laughter.

You smile wider at the intimate and domestic scene. “She’s adorable.”

The man smiles at you. “Thank you. But let me thank you properly for all this. How about I get you dinner sometime?”

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Sorry again for being so inactive, I’ve been super busy! But as always, if you guys liked it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because I love hearing what you all have to say!

Masterlist

Everything tags: @jedi-jesi @along-the-lines-of-space @madsvano4 @chingonajamie @peterparkerporker

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #lordys thoughts

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coreychick · 3 years

Text

Chapter 16: The Cold

Part of the In the Dark Series: 18+ Smut & Story /Romance and Adventure Din X Fem Reader Insert Just a reminder, I do not post warnings, so if you have triggers, this may not be a story for you. A/N: We're getting something new here- A peek into Din's perspective. Hope you love it, cause it might be my favorite so far. Also check below, which song was the inspiration for the whole chapter.

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A drawing I did after writing this chapter:

Hunter's World

The streets of Keyorin are raw and hungry. Row after row of dirty buildings plagued by graffiti and neon signs peddling the glowing promise of booze, sex and entertainment. Holographic images of prostitutes of varying species walk circles in their designated territories- advertisements for what lies beyond the smoked glass of the more affluent establishments. Large inground vents line the sidewalks, pumping billowing clouds of hot steam into the air. Dark alleys parallel each street, promising darker deeds- unseen because the glow from the dim street lights doesn’t quite reach their recesses. A single tree, bush or facet of nature remains to be seen- a stark contrast from every other planet you’ve been to.

“Stay close to me.” Mando reminds you for the second time. You’re sure he’d be holding your hand if he didn’t feel it was more important to have it ready to draw on his weapon. He lets you hold the tracking beacon, programmed to lead to the exact location of the last known coordinates of the transmission from Vale.

The tiny red bulb on the tracker indicates a building at the end of the street, to be your target. You cinch your hood a little tighter around your neck, the bite of the frigid air stinging your skin. Flurries of snowflakes swirl around your boots.

Not even a fresh blanket of snow can make this city look clean.

The streets are not overly crowded, but there are a fair number of people loitering around. The vast majority you notice, are male. Unlike other cities you’ve been in with Mando- they don’t seem to pay him much notice here. This must in fact be ‘Hunter’s World’, if the sight of a Mandalorian doesn’t draw much attention.

As you near the building at the end of the street you can see the front doors are bordered by frosted glass, illuminated by soft glowing blue light on the inside. You can’t see through the glass, but shadows in the shape of bodies move around like a live art installation. As you near the glass you can hear the undeniable sounds of female moaning. Your eyes focus in closer at the silhouettes being projected onto the glass. A hand and breast momentarily press up against the glass, while a softer, larger silhouette stands behind it. You were wrong. They weren’t projected images- they are actual people fucking behind the glass- a sideshow display to temp anyone passing by on the street.

You swallow a hard lump in your throat. You wouldn’t call yourself prude by any means, but this seems very illicit- yet every other passerby is almost bored by it. Albeit for the one man who stands nearby watching the shadows move intently, a cool expression on his face. He takes a swig from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag and then chucks it into the alley- his hand now free to palm the bulge in his pants. A cleaning droid hustles after the bottle, an attempt by the establishment to keep the immediate area clean, despite all efforts by the world outside the doors.

“I don’t want to take you in there, but I’m not leaving you alone, so I’m afraid I don’t have any other choice.”

“S’ok, you know I’d come anyway.”

“You have that blade I gave you?”

“Yep. Right here.” you say, patting the small of your back where you’d tucked it into your belt.

“You know how to use it?”

“Err...stick the stabby end into the bad guy?”

Mando sighs. “I guess we’ll have to work on that, later.”

Your heart begins pounding, both curious and apprehensive as to what lies beyond the doors. As you approach, the entrance doors open with a woosh . The hallway beyond is dark, lit only by the blue light coming through the glass walls. Blurry figures of men and women deep in the throes can be gleaned, accompanied by grunts and moans of pleasure. At the end of the corridor a woman waits to greet all patrons. She’s drop dead gorgeous- high cheekbones painted with glittering highlighter, lengthy purple eyelashes that flutter over sparkling eyes, thigh high pleather boots cover her long legs, and a vest made of fur barely contains her over-spilling cleavage.

I wonder what Mando thinks of her? What I wouldn’t give to see his reaction to her.

“Greetings. Welcome to Shadow’s Flower, Keyorin’s premiere destination for satisfying one’s ultimate desires. How can we service you today? A private room perhaps?” her voice is all sultry, whiskey and purrs.

Mando is straight to business and quick to reply.

“No. We’re looking for someone known to pass through.”

“I see, and who might that be?” she says, trailing a finger down her décolletage.

You wonder if that’s standard procedure for all newcomers or if she has a thing for Mando specifically.

“Goes by Vale.”

“Vale, huh?” she says, biting her lip and trying to decide how to answer.

She shifts a little, tilting her head. “Well, I haven't seen Vale in a day or so, but you never know, the night is still young.”

“Where can I find ‘em?”

“Oh sugar, they don’t give that kind of information to someone so low on the totem pole, but- you’re not completely out of luck. One of Vale’s associates is in the lounge right now. You’re welcome to make friends and find out for yourself.”

“Fine. Who’s the associate?”

“Sin Shikara. Just look for the short hunter- a palm full of tit in one hand and a cigar in the other, can’t miss it.” she smiles.

Mando nods and you follow closely behind as you enter a large lounge area. There are tables scattered all over the room, each with customers of varying species. In the center, a bar where half-clad women serve drinks. There is an array of booths around the perimeter, each with a pole running from the top of the ceiling down to the table. Others have ropes or other means of restraints that dangle from above.

Mando stops to scan the room, the way he always does when he enters a crowded place. You scan too, only without the nifty tricks of a helmet. There’s a dance floor off to the side, where men and women alike seduce clientele into paying for more expensive entertainment. The music playing is smooth, hypnotic, and sensual- a clever tool to aid in their propositions.

A very large devaronian sits at the head of a large table, his associates scattered around, all deep in conversation with each other or one of the girls who works here. His skin is a shade of deep red- you always thought his species resembled a cartoon version of a devil, only thing missing was a tail and pitchfork. A female Pantoran in a very short skirt, straddles his lap. The stark red of his skin pressed against the cool blue of hers, makes for a startling contrast. She begins flicking her hips up and down and the devaronian’s eyes practically roll back into his head. The woman begins moaning, grabbing onto the dev’s horns- her own personal set of handlebars- and forces his face to her bare breasts. She quickens her pace and now there’s no doubt in your mind that if the skirt were about three inches shorter, you’d have a full on view of the dev’s dick thrusting into her.

Maker, am I really seeing this?

If the devaronian’s size was any indication of what he was packing below the waist, you’d offer to buy the woman a drink, some pain killers and an ice pack later. The man was a beast and the whole thing was just so blatant, right there in the open, a show for anyone to see. Just as the thought occurs to you, the dev makes direct eye contact with you over the female's shoulder. His eyes lock onto yours and he smiles.

Oh Maker, he caught me staring.

The dev winks at you and your stomach drops. He grabs onto the woman’s waist and drives her down harder onto his lap. You immediately avert your gaze. You hear a loud grunt and the female moans loudly.

Did me looking just push him over the edge? Your skin crawls at the thought.

You continue scanning the room and a table off to the left catches your eye. You lightly nudge Mando’s arm with your elbow.

“There, the woman with the red lips.”

She sits at a table pushed up against one of the frosted glass walls, her back to the scene that plays out behind them. She has beautiful dark hair, choppy in texture, that lands just above her shoulder on one side, shorn on the other. She wears a vest crisscrossed with various blades and other weapons, including a visible blaster on the side of her ribs. Her eyes are painted with a dark kohl that stretches all the way across the bridge of her nose, giving the mock impression of a mask. The dark paint starkly contrasts the brightness of her golden eyes. In her lap, a bare chested woman sits, and her lips- coated in deep red, are wrapped around a lit cigar.

Mando nods in agreement, that must be who we are looking for.

Mando continues to scan the room as you make your way over to the table. The woman clocks your approach and leans back comfortably in her seat. You come to a stop in front of her table, the girl in her lap eyeing you both curiously.

She puffs out a plume of smoke and speaks up first.

“You got a puck with my name on it Mando? Cause if so, I gotta tell you, that’s really gonna kill my buzz.”

“No. I’m not here for that. I was told you could help me find an associate of yours, I’m looking for Vale.” Mando says.

"Who told you that?”

“Girl at the door.”

“Yeah well, she’s got a big mouth. You got a puck for him?”

Him? Vale is a man.

“No, no puck. Just need to talk to him.”

She takes her time responding, eyeing the two of you up and down- no doubt calculating the threat level. She puffs out another plume of smoke from her cigar.

"Why should I help a bounty hunter?”

“Because I asked nicely. I don’t want to have to ask the other way.”

She smirks in response.

“This is what you call asking nicely? Get lost hunter. I’m not a fucking message service and as you can see, I am otherwise preoccupied.” she says, squeezing a handful of boob.

You decide to interject and see if you can gain any ground with her. Maybe she’s just not a fan of bounty hunters in general and Mando doesn’t give off a particularly warm vibe at first meetings.

“Sin Shakara,” you address her. She turns to face you, acknowledging your presence for the first time. “I’m terribly sorry to disturb your...evening. I assure you, we’re not here with ill intentions. I’m looking for Vale because I owe him a debt of gratitude, and I was just hoping to do that in person.”

Sin quirks a brow, her interest piqued. Clearly she’s surprised by your approach.

“And who are you, exactly?”

You shake your head, nonchalantly, “Honestly, nobody worth concerning yourself over. I’m not here to cause any trouble, I just want to pass on my gratitude and then I'll be on my way.”

“Well Nobody , you’ve got my attention.” she says. She kicks her foot out under the table, pushing the chair opposite her, out in offering.

“Have a seat.”

You take the offer and sit down, Mando takes the chair beside you.

“This message of gratitude, does it come with, oh let’s say...a knife in the back or a target on his head?”

“No, nothing like that.”

The look on her face says she's entertained, but not buying your story for a minute.

“Then why travel with a bounty hunter?” she says, staring pointedly at Mando.

“I’m not a tracker, I needed help getting here, so I hired the best I could find. Simple as that.”

Mando turns his head to you, but remains silent, letting you play out the lie. Sin takes a deep draw on the cigar and squints her eyes just slightly, like she’s trying to decide how truthful this all sounds.

“Tell me Nobody,” she says, exhaling another puff of smoke. “What is it exactly that Vale could ever have possibly done for someone else, that would warrant a trip across the galaxy, all for a ‘thank you’?”

“I prefer to keep my business to myself, if you don’t mind.”

“As do I Sweets, but I’m not passing on information to someone I just met, simply because they say ‘pretty please’. Without just cause, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

What she says, of course, is reasonable. You know you’ll have to give her more information. You tread the line carefully, offering her a small taste of the truth- hopefully without implicating anything damning about yourself.

It’s a risk I have to take.

“A few years ago, he donated a large sum to an orphanage on Bestine. I'm here to deliver a message of gratitude on behalf of the orphans.”

The best lies, the most believable ones, are often laced with the truth.

Sin silently stares at you. Something sparks in her eyes, but it’s gone in an instant- too quick for you to decipher. She leans in and whispers something to the girl sitting in her lap. The girl nods and makes haste to leave the table- Sin, giving her an affectionate smack on the ass as she walks away. You follow her path with your eyes until she disappears down a dark back hallway.

“So,” Sin says, leaning back in her chair, hooking the neck of a brown bottle with her index finger, “I take it you were one of the orphans then?”

How to answer? You don’t want to give away anything that will ultimately lead to revealing your identity, but you’ve got to give her something to chew on. You’re about to answer when something catches your peripheral. The large devaronian from earlier, he’s headed straight for you.

He slams his palms down on the table, leaning in and cutting himself into the conversation. You silently applaud your ability to avoid flinching and retain an undaunted expression. Despite addressing Sin by name, he stares directly at you as he speaks.

“Well Sin, what’ve you got here. Why don’t you introduce me to your little friend.”

The fact that he seems completely oblivious to, or un-phased by the presence of a Mandalorian at your side is unsettling.

Please don’t be Vale. Please don’t be Vale.

Sin sighs, like this is common behavior coming from the dev. “Vandaal, meet Nobody. Nobody, meet Vandaal.”

“Nobody? Nah, I don’t believe that for one second. I’ll bet you’ve got a real pretty name, haven't you little one?”

Little One? Well, you suppose compared to a devaronian, you would seem little.

You make a conscious effort not to look at Mando. You don’t want to appear weak or as if you depend on him for support. I can handle my shit.

You address him directly and by name. “Do you mind Vandaal? Sin and I were just in the middle of something, and I’d like to finish up and let her get back to her night.”

You try not to come off as rude, though you’re certain a modicum of irritation slips through the cracks. He leans in a little closer to your face, his body now closing in your entire field of vision.

“It’s your night I’m interested in, Little One. I saw you earlier...couldn’t take your eyes off me as I fucked the Panto, could you?”

You furrow your brows as if you’re trying to remember. “Hmmm, sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Don’t play coy with me Little One, I looked right into your eyes as I filled her cunt.”

You can’t help but try to swallow the lump forming in your throat at his admission.

“Wait, ahh. I do remember now. She had a kill-er set of boots, I was thinking about asking her where she got them. I’m all about supporting local craftsmen, ya know?”

“Well, I’m here to ask you, what time we’ll be fucking? I’m ready to go right now.”

You sense Mando's anger, can practically feel it radiating off of his armor in waves.

“Right now? So soon? Damn, you don’t even give the sheets a chance to dry, do you?”

He offers you a wicked grin that promises all sorts of deviant behavior- a row of large sharp teeth that retract a little when he speaks, allowing him to talk.

“Sorry Van, not interested.” you say, giving him a smile that clearly doesn’t meet your eyes.

“What’s the problem Little One? I know you liked what you saw.”

“The problem? Uh, anatomy for one. I prefer all of my internal organs to stay where they are. And two, I told you, I’m not interested.”

You casually curl your right arm behind your back, lifting the hem of your shirt to grasp the handle of the blade tucked into your waistband. Your heart begins to beat faster, preparing for what's to come if this conversation continues to go sideways.

He leans in impossibly close this time, his voice dropping to a whisper. You can smell the spice of whatever ale he was drinking linger on his breath. He has several gold hoops lining his earlobes and dozens of scars dredged over his blood colored skin.

“I won’t lie, Little One. Parts of it are going to hurt, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

He reaches forward to, brush a hair from your face? Touch your cheek? You have no idea and don’t wait long enough to find out. You quickly push his arm aside with your left hand and simultaneously whip out your right arm. You propel your arm forward, aiming for the dev’s head and slam your fist forward until your finger bones crush up against the hilt of the dagger handle.

The next few seconds are a blur of movement. You kick back out of your chair and an immovable wall of beskar shields you from Vandaal. Mando stands chest to chest with the brute, the two of them staring at each other. The dev stands a foot above Mando, his size super imposing. Neither seems to make a move, content to just stare each other down. You take a step away from Mando’s back so you can get a better look at the dev. When his face comes into view you can see the tip of the dagger has been lodged into the dev’s horn, like a dart on a dartboard. The handle ticks back and forth like a swinging pendulum.

Uh, not quite what I was going for.

“You heard her, she’s not interested.” Mando says, his modulated voice coming out low and threatening. His arm is slightly extended away from his body. You know the stance. He's ready to spring first.

Vandaal takes a deep breath, forcing his lungs to expand and his chest to press up harder against Mando, his breath fogging the outside of Mando’s visor.

“What’s it to you, Mando?”

Before Mando can answer, a second voice rings out from behind you.

“The girl said she wasn’t interested Van, suck it up and hit the road.”

You turn and see a large human male, near to Mando’s size, approach from the side. He’s lean and muscled with broad shoulders. His hair can’t quite decide what color it wants to be, too dark to be brown, too light to be black. He has a sharp jaw, masked by a thick beard. A jagged scar bisects his right brow and continues down to the top of his cheek. He has another prominent scar above his ear that shows through his hair- cut short on the sides and left longer on the top. A complex geometric pattern is tattooed on his neck. It seamlessly morphs with the chords of his neck muscles, creating a bold wrapping effect.

A blaster peeks out from the inside of his brown trench coat- it likely conceals a bevy of other weapons as well. Despite his rough and rugged exterior, women would undoubtedly find him attractive.

“Hit. The. Road.” he adds, with a nod indicating Van should go.

Van continues to stare at Mando’s visor for a moment longer before reluctantly following orders from the newcomer.

“Wait!” you call out, “I want my dagger back.”

The new guy chuckles softly, a wood toothpick casually sticking out between his lips. “You heard her, let her have her dagger back.”

Van practically has steam coming out of his ears, clearly annoyed that he has to obey the order. He steps around Mando and faces you. Mando’s hand slides to his blaster, prepared to shoot. Van stares down at you, much the way he had been staring down at Mando seconds ago- like you're a mouse and he a lion. He slowly leans his head forward, putting his horns in reach, the dagger still wobbling. You swallow hard and reach up to palm the hilt, tugging on the end. The dagger doesn’t budge. You have to reach your second hand up and pull down with your weight for leverage. The dagger pops loose and you stumble a step back. Mando is right there waiting to catch you.

“I look forward to our next meeting, Little One.” he says with a gleam in his yellow-green eyes.

“Next time, I’ll stick this in your ear,” you snap back.

He shoots Mando one last look before scarcely acknowledging the newcomer and heading away toward the exit. You notice Sin, off to the side, watching the whole altercation with amusement in her eyes. You turn to face trench coat guy, tucking the blade back into your waistband.

“You always did have a knack for finding trouble, didn’t you bunny?”

Your heart stutters.

Bunny. A name I haven't been called in years. A term of endearment only one person ever used.

Your eyes fly to his, drawing deep on their familiar coloring. Recognition takes hold.

DIN

Initially, I am relieved when the devaronian stands down. I was one breath away from from ripping his stupid fucking horns off of his head and cramming them down his throat. The foul sewage spewing from his mouth, the way he looked at her with lust in his eyes...I should have killed him where he stood- had already been calculating our escape.

Pluck dagger from his horn, plunge it into his windpipe, pull down, severing throat vertically. Three possible exits. Front door. Back door at the end of the hall. Break the frosted glass and head out through the sex dens. Enemy count, unknown: Sin Shakara, possible ally to the dev, formidable opponent. The onlookers from the dev’s table earlier- abilities unknown, weapons….a lot. Use whistling birds. Overall chances? Five to one.

I like those odds.

Now there’s a new opponent, one that seems far smarter and therefore more dangerous. One the devaronian takes orders from. He’s armed with a blaster, two blades and a set of brass knuckles he wears on his right hand. Those are the weapons I can see, though a scan with the helmet indicates more lie beneath the cover of his trench.

He prefers to fight with his hands, good to know.

New odds, seven to one.

Can’t risk her safety.

I step in front of her, shielding her from the human newcomer. The man briefly stares back at me before speaking.

“You always did have a knack for finding trouble, didn’t you Bunny?”

Bunny?

The way the man speaks, it sounds as if he knows her. I turn to her and see disbelief written in her expression. She steps around me and closer to the male, studying his features. Recognition lights up her face.

“Halo? Halo, is that you?” she says in bewilderment.

“It’s me, Bunny.”

“Halo!” she practically squeals in delight. She moves around me and runs straight into the man’s arms, a beautiful wide grin spread across her face.

Immediately irritation spikes my blood at the way the man’s name sounds, as it leaves her lips. The man extends his open arms out to her as she runs headlong into his embrace. He wraps his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground into a bear tight hug. Her arms fly up to wrap around his neck in an equally tight clutch. She squeezes her eyes closed as his left hand cradles the back of her head. He whispers something inaudible into her ear. She listens intently and nods her head ‘yes’ when he stops speaking. A dozen thoughts storm through my brain at once. I should be relieved that she knows this person- maybe we won't have to fight our way out after all- but then again, I'm not. The way he's holding her...maybe we will.

Who is he? How does she know him? He’s touching her. Kill now, ask questions later. Take what’s mine. Leave right now. What is he saying to her? Kill.

After what seems like an agonizingly long reunion embrace, the asshole- apparently named ‘Halo’- sets her back down on her feet. Before I can feel any sense of relief though, the asshole irritates me further by leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers, in another affectionate exchange. The two seem to share some type of silent communication with one another.

Stay cool, don’t blow your fucking top- yet. You need answers.

Finally, she steps back, seeming to remember that there are multiple other people in the room, all watching the exchange.

“Mando, this is Halo- a close family friend. We grew up on Bestine together.”

“Friend?” I sound confused, even to my own ears.

“Yeah, we lived next door to each other, up until I went to the orphanage that is.”

I look at Halo, gauging his response.

“Yeah, I haven't seen Bunny since she was a little girl...but look at her- all grown up now. You can imagine my surprise to hear that she’s been looking for me.”

All grown up, indeed.

“Looking, for you ?” she says. “You’re Vale!?”

“Haven’t gone by ‘Halo’ since I left Bestine.”

He knows her. They have a shared past of some sort.

The look on her beautiful face. She looks like she’s in awe of him.

He doesn’t deserve that look, not from her.

“Can we talk? I have so many questions.” she asks.

“Sure,” he says, offering me a polite nod, that doesn’t quite feel sincere. “We can talk in private. Your friend can wait here, I’m sure Sin can entertain him for a while.”

“No.” I protest, taking a step closer to my girl. “Wherever she goes, I go.”

If he thinks to take her from me, I will kill him where he stands.

Halo looks to her for confirmation. She bites her lip. “He’s…” she starts, looking into my visor the way she always does when she's searching for the right words, but hesitates. “I trust him.”

“I see.” he says, inhaling a deep breath. “Well, I’d prefer to talk to you in private. How about if we have a quick dance, right over there on the dancefloor? You and I can talk in private and your friend here can keep you in sight, whatta you say?”

She turns to me, offering reassurance with her eyes. “I think that’d be fine. I’ll be in sight the whole time.” she says.

Not okay. I don’t want her more than an arm's reach away right now, but I can’t undermine her in front of the others.

Why is she so quick to trust him? Even if they had been childhood friends, that doesn’t seem reason enough to trust him now.

Stubborn girl.

“I’ll be right here,” I reassure her.

My stubborn girl nods and walks side by side with Halo to the dance floor. I refuse the seat Sin once again offers and choose to lean against the wall instead- arms crossed, where I can keep a close eye on the situation. Sin huffs at my choice, puffing out a cloud of smoke on her cigar. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that she is just as displeased at the two of them dancing together as I am. She has a look of annoyance plastered on her face.

I watch as Halo removes his brass knuckles, placing them in his pocket, then rounds on her, placing one hand on the small of her back and the other in her palm. They begin to slow dance while they dive deep into a conversation I can’t hear. I have no doubt that Halo chose the dancefloor to discuss their business, simply because the music makes it impossible for anybody standing near to hear what they are saying. Without the aid of the amplifier on my rifle, I can’t make out a single word, even with the helmet dialed in.

“You know, I’ve seen Halo with dozens of women over the years,” Sin says, a hint of bitterness in her voice, “but never once seen him ask one to dance.”

The revelation isn’t a welcome one.

“You don’t sound too happy about it.” I voice it aloud.

“I’m as happy about it as I imagine you look under that helmet right about now.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, shifting as I gauge the close proximity of my girl dancing with the guy. Surely it isn’t necessary to be that close? I’m not certain though- never danced a day in my life.

“When a woman gets a man to start behaving out of his character, it’s usually bad for business.” No shit.

Out of character? I wondered what is ‘in character' for this guy. I've met many of his kind before. He was the type of man, women should avoid, yet always find attractive. He has a natural charm, the kind that can talk the panties off a nun.

I watch intently as he says something that makes her laugh. She tilts her head back smiling up at Halo like he has just said the funniest thing in the world. I want to rip his head off, for being the one to make her laugh like that.

One minute I am silently praising her, championing her for her quick wit and show of strength against the devaronian, the next I find myself wanting to haul her ass over my shoulder and spank her, for handing over her trust to this Halo guy, so easily.

“That one has got some fight in her, huh?” Sin says.

“You have no idea.” I say, stretching out the words.

“That dagger dangling from Van’s horn is the funniest shit I’ve seen in ages,” she says. “He’s gonna be pissed for weeks at the damage. Devaronians take real pride in their horns. She might as well have shanked him in the dick.”

I ignore Sin’s comments, unable to focus on much beyond the placement of Halo’s hands. I am getting a bad feeling about this whole thing. Something about Halo seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I make a mental note to check the New Republic wanted records and backlogs for his name- or both names as it were. The guy is obviously running from some sort of past if he changed his name at some point.

I watch in mounting frustration, my temper ratcheting up a degree with every step they take together. When the song ends, they continue to dance, seemingly lost in whatever conversation they are having. I’m a hot second away from breaking up their little reunion celebration when she nods and the two make their way back over to the table. Finally.

Halo speaks first. “Well, we’ve got lots more catching up to do, but I’m sorry I have to cut our time short tonight. I have some business matters to attend to, and I’m afraid they can’t wait any longer. I’d like to invite you both to stay at my place for the night…”

I quickly cut him off, “We’ll be returning to the ship.”

“Are you sure? You’ll have the finest accommodations and I assure you, you’ll be a lot safer than in the shipyards.”

“No, thank you. We’ll be staying on the ship.” I insist. No way in hell I am trusting this guy, especially on his turf.

I notice the flash of disappointment that crosses my girl’s face, but she doesn’t protest. Good girl.

“Alright,” Halo says with a smile. “I’ll have Sin here take you back to your ship.”

“That won’t be necessary, we’ll walk.”

“Walk?” Halo says, looking back and forth between my girl and me. “The temperature has dropped substantially since you arrived, you’ll freeze out there.”

“We’ll be fine.” I insist, my resolve unwavering.

Halo seems a little put out by my insistence, until she echoes my thoughts.

“We’ll be fine.” she assures him.

Halo stares at me for a moment, disapprovingly. If I’m reading his expression correctly, it's says: “Anything happens to her and I’ll kill you.” Right back at ya, buddy.

“Here, at least take this,” he says, removing his trench coat and placing it around her shoulders. I feel my whole body stiffen as she accepts it easily, sinking her arms into the too long sleeves. Halo pops the collar and tucks it in as tight as it will go around her neck. His coat on her skin. His scent. Wrath burns me from the inside out.

“I’ll send for you both at the yards tomorrow then, and we’ll finish our conversation.” he says, placing a kiss against her cheek. She returns a similar kiss to his, and I swear red runs across my vision.

Do. Not. Kill. Him...Yet.

“Ok, sounds goo…” she trails off as I pull her by the arm away toward the exit. We are leaving right now.

A few moments later, am leading us away and back through the streets, towards the shipyards where the Crest is waiting.

Just get back to the Crest, back to where things are safe, familiar. She wants to return tomorrow? That's not happening.

I struggle to think coherently, my mind stuck in a loop, replaying the kiss over and over in my head. After several moments of silence, once we’ve put enough distance between us and the club, I finally say something.

“Well, care to explain?”

“Which part?” she says.

“Who the hell was that for starters?”

“I told you, he’s a friend of the family. We grew up together, spent a good amount of time together, before my parents died.”

They have...history.

“You seem quick to trust someone you haven't seen in years. You were only, what? Maybe five or six?”

“Seven, and he was good to me, looked out for me as a kid.”

“He’s not good now, you saw him, saw who he associates with.” None of them can be trusted.

She sighs. “I trust him, I don’t think he’d hurt me.” I’ll end anyone who tries.

“Trust him? You don’t even know him!” I say, growing more and more irritated by the second. Her nature is too sweet for this world.

She ignores the change in my voice, hugging the trench coat to herself a little tighter. The temperature had indeed dropped further since we had first arrived. Snow continues to flurry, a fresh dusting kicks up with every step. A light sheet of frost was even forming over my beskar. I don’t feel any of the chill though, my skin is heated, body practically boiling over with anger.

“What did he say to you? I saw him whisper something in your ear.”

“He wanted to make sure I was ok, that I was with you voluntarily and that I wasn’t a ...bounty. He said if I was, all I’d have to do is give the word and he’d make sure I walked out the door a free woman.” She’s already free, and I’ll ensure that she stays so.

“We’re done, we’re not going back.” I say. I know it’s not what she wants to hear, but I’m done with this shit. It’s not worth the risk. We need to move on from this pipe dream.

She stops dead in her tracks.

“You may not be, but I am.”

“Like hell you are.” I say, turning around to face her. She’s got her stubborn expression on, her fists balled up tight, leaning into me as if she’s an immovable force- as if I can’t just toss her over my shoulder and put this planet behind us for good. Tiny white snowflakes float down, sticking to her hair, revealing her true nature. She is equal parts ethereal and wildling. So fucking beautiful like this.

“I didn’t come all this way, just to get this close and turn back. He has answers, I know he does.”

Answers. She lives only to find these answers. I wish I could give her something else to live for.

“He might be Imperial, we’re not risking it.”

“Imperial? Are you kidding? Did you see him? No way is he an Imp.”

“He may not be one, but he’s likely working with them. I’ve seen his kind before, he’d quickly throw you to the dogs if it means a decent payday.”

“Well if that’s not the pot calling the kettle black.”

I inhale for patience. Her jab hits a weak spot in my armor. It snakes itself right between the plates, finds my heart, and sinks its fangs in. My entire body echoes a pang every time I think about what I did. It’s precisely why I can’t risk her like that again.

She grabs the two ends of the coat collar and crosses them hand over hand, pulling them in tight to keep the sting of cold air off of her neck. The sight of Halo’s coat wrapped around her, pulls me from my thoughts, and causes my last thread of patience to snap. I can’t look at that coat a moment longer. I want to erase all traces of Halo. Stamp out every touch, every smell, that kiss….her last words. My dick goes rock hard at the thought of fucking her until she can remember no other name, save for mine.

“Take it off.”

Her little brows scrunch up in confusion.

“Wh..what?”

“The coat. Take it off….or I will.”

YOU

The threat hangs in the air. A shiver runs down your spine. It has nothing to do with the freezing temperature and everything to do with Mando’s voice. He sounds desperate...feral.

“You’re the one that insisted we walk, it’s freezing out here…”

Mando cuts you off with a pull on your arm. He tugs you away from the main road and directs you down a side alleyway. You follow along the side of a building until the glow of the streetlights no longer reaches and you’re left standing in the dark shadow of the corner. There’s little to be seen beyond some impressive graffiti on the walls, a trash receptacle, and a broken down speeder- long since stripped of its parts, little more than a frame and hood held up only by the cinders supporting it.

He drops your wrist and stares down at you.

“You heard me, do as you’re told.”

A surprising thrill courses through your veins. His tone, the urgency, his demand- it sends a needy pulse straight to your pussy.

He needs you to obey.

You briefly consider defying him, excited at the prospect of seeing how far you can push him- but quickly remember that that tactic once led to no orgasms for you. Instead you decide to give him what he wants, hoping you’ll be rewarded.

“You seem… a little jealous, Mando? You have no reason to be.” you say, feeling the first flush of warmth between your legs.

He steps closer, bearing down on you until your ass meets the hood of the busted up speeder.

“Say my name.” he commands, surprising you.

You can’t help it, don’t know why it’s so impossibly difficult for you to just give him what he wants. You want to, need to, crave to. But there’s also an undeniable charge you get from defying authority. Always has been.

“Mando.” you say, knowing perfectly well that’s not what he was asking for.

“Say. My. Name.” he says again, his voice promising untold things if you don’t.

You love this little game you play.

“Mando.” you repeat again, and sure, it was like waving a fresh kill in front of a starved bull rancor. But as you repeat the word you know he doesn’t want to hear, you slowly begin to shed the trench coat, offering him partial obedience.

You let the trench slide to the ground, pooling at your feet. The freezing air hits your body causing goosebumps to break out over your skin and your nipples to stiffen.

“There. Happy now?” you ask.

“Now, the boots.”

Your lips part on a stunned breath. Somehow you thought he’d be satisfied after the coat had been removed, content to let your bones chill a bit and then spend all of his time warming you back up once you returned to the Crest. You were dead wrong.

“My boots? " you say, looking down at them. "Are you crazy? There’s snow on the ground, I’ll freeze.”

“The boots. Now.” he says, his voice, all authority.

You glance around his shoulder, looking twenty or so yards down the alley to the street. Pedestrians occasionally pass by. None spare a glance down the passageway, and you suppose even if they did, this scene is being played out under the cover of darkness.

How far does he intend to take this?

You continue to stare into the T of his visor, even as you bend over to unlace and remove your boots, one by one. The bitter cold of the cement beneath your feet penetrates the barrier of your wool socks, causing needle-like pin pricks. You begin to unconsciously rub your arms for warmth, your breath now fogging the air with each exhale.

“Pants.” he says. A single word uttered with command, daring you to openly refuse him. Part of you wonders what might happen if you do, but a much needier part of you resists the urge.

Mando watches, completely stoic as you slowly unfasten the ties at your waistband. You reach back, pulling the dagger from it’s concealed location at your back and briefly hold it out in front of you before placing it on the hood of the speeder.

Wetness pools between your legs as you grow more aroused under his gaze. He has a sizeable bulge pressing aggressively against the barrier of his pants- one you want to expose to the cold air as well. He’s steady, makes no move to undress himself in any way, content to watch you strip down to bare flesh while he stands like a statue, with not a single inch of his own skin exposed to the elements- and the view of any lucky passersby on the street.

Your body begins to shiver and you’re not sure if it’s the frosty air or the anticipation. Maybe both.

You wiggle your hips back and forth, sliding the fitted trousers down and step out of the legs, one at a time. You hold the pants out in front of you before dropping them into a pile to join the other discarded items. Only your wool socks and black wrap top remain.

Mando can wait no longer. He scoops you up by cupping your ass and lifts you onto the hood of the speeder. If he didn’t have that damn helmet on, you’d be frantically kissing him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. You inhale a sharp breath as an icy burn scorches your ass when your skin makes contact with the frozen metal. Mando makes quick work of discarding his right glove, his effort so frantic, you smile at his haste. His left arm wraps around the small of your back, holding you in place while he makes his way straight to your pussy with his other hand. The first contact is utterly divine. His hands are so warm compared to the frigid air. He delves two fingers through your arousal, wasting no time.

“So wet already,” he says, plunging those two thick fingers in and out of your cunt. “What got you this wet baby? Was it me ...or was it him ?”

His words surprise you. He is jealous....has no reason to be.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything past the magic he’s producing with his hand, but you somehow muster one last brazen act of defiance before completely succumbing to his will.

“Which answer will make you fuck me harder?”

His response is a sharp intake of breath sucked through gritted teeth. He quickly unbuckles his belt, leaving it to hang off to the side while he unzips his pants just enough to loose his cock. It springs forth, eagerly bobbing. The second you see it, all thoughts of playful resistance melt away. You want to give this man whatever he desires, however he desires it.

You spread your legs wider, showing him everything you have to offer.

“How do you want me?” you ask, prepared to give him anything, no matter what the answer is.

Your surrender causes his body to vibrate with need. He takes his cock in hand, sweeping the leaking pre-cum over the tip with his thumb.

“Screaming my name.” is what he replies, as he presses the head into your entrance and slams his hips forward. His movements aren’t gentle or kind. They are primal and unrelenting. Mando pounds into you with everything he’s got and you yield completely, devouring every inch.

DIN

Maker, she is perfect, so fucking tight- the friction when I drag my cock out of her slick cunt and then drive it home again is so intense, so perfect. My cock is a wash, base to tip, in that delicious liquid arousal her body is so eager to give me. It paints my dick, my hips, and glistens on the inside of her silky thighs- she’s literally drenching me and I can’t get enough. In another time and place, I’d be down on my knees, licking every drop with a lap of my tongue. I’m already hard- painfully so, but the memory of her taste turns my cock to beskar steel.

I’ll make it up to her later, spend hours worshipping this pussy like it deserves- if she’ll let me- but right now, I just need to fuck her, fuck her senseless until all these other feelings melt away and there’s nothing left but the sound of my name on her lips.

Look at her. Does she have any idea how fucking beautiful she is like this? The sight of my cock stretching that pretty pussy as it disappears and reappears with every thrust is nearly too much. Her petal-soft lips blossom around me, swelling to ring my cock to perfection. Maker, she is flawless- I swear she was made just for me, and me alone. Her body, her face, her cries of pleasure, all expertly designed to break me down to a molecular level.

I’m rattled. Disturbed, at how badly I need her like this, open to me, willing to give me whatever I want. And she does. She accepts each brutal thrust and returns it with yearning and vigor. I know she’s close, her moans going deep and raspy, soft puffs of air fog against my visor. I return my thumb to rub firm circles around her aching clit, but no sooner do I touch it and she throws her head back and comes completely undone. Her eyes are squeezed shut and despite her whimpers of pleasure, she doesn’t say my name- a dead giveaway that I haven’t done my job. My stubborn girl is yet to be sated.

I forgo giving her a break. The sick bastard in me is getting off on seeing her squirm through the sensitivity as her orgasm recedes. I keep up my maddened pace, despite her body going completely liquid for me. With the first orgasm out of the way, her body becomes more pliant, capable of taking even more.

She loosens her grip on my neck- the severed touch, a tragic loss- as she leans back to lie down on the speeder’s hood. My momentary mourning over the lost contact is quickly replaced by a devastating view of her breasts. I tug the material down and to the side, something I had fantasized about the second I saw it in the marketplace, back on Tatooine. There between two perfect breasts- my pendant rests- a glaring reminder that there is a more important job I am supposed to be doing, one that I can’t lose sight of.

She arches her back, hard nipples begging to be sucked, jutting up to the sky. Tiny frozen snowflakes blanket the space all around her. I take hold of her neck and give her a gentle squeeze, just to help anchor her body in place, keep it from sliding further away from me. My hand looks so large- huge splayed across the delicate column of her neck- so beautiful. Suddenly, she opens her mouth, flashing her tongue out to catch the snow raining down from above. The sight of her tongue, the way the snow delicately lands on it- I can’t handle it. I have to fight a battle not to pull out of her hot pussy and feed my cock into that hot mouth instead. She’s radiant- beyond all imagining- as we fuck snow angels into the hood of this wrecked piece of junk.

I’ve never been so close to removing my helmet, so at peace with the idea of chucking it down this alleyway and walking away from it forever. If she asked me too, right now, at this moment- I know I would- without question. There’s something else happening here, something beyond just fucking. This woman will be the end of me- if I don’t end it first. I fear there'll be no recovering from this.

YOU

Whatever mystical powers of influence you have- they don’t hold a candle to what this man can get you to do for him at this moment. He takes and takes and doesn’t stop. You submit without hesitation, overwhelmed by the desire to give him what he wants. You want to feel your bones rattle, look forward to the soreness he’ll leave behind long after he’s finished with you.

He stretches your walls and strokes that hard to reach spot that sends you spiraling out of control with swift precision. He’s merciless, refusing to stop long after you’ve passed the point of maximum sensitivity. You want to beg him to stop, a watery tear falls down the side of your cheek as the overwhelming pleasure persists. You realize why. You didn’t give him what he asked for.

Your body is already melting into a useless puddle, your limbs going heavy and near unresponsive. You lay back on the hood of the speeder, no longer able to squeeze your legs around his waist. The icy-cold metal burns your back, despite your ass having gone completely numb a long time ago.

Mando easily tugs your double wrap style top down, exposing your breasts to the frigid night air.

“Too lovely to stay covered.” he says, causing your heart to flutter too.

Mando continues to drill into you, the pleasure mounting again. You turn your head to face the mouth of the alley. Pedestrians continue to pass by, unaware of the carnal acts taking place mere feet away. Anyone of them might see, if they only turned their heads.

You look away and stare up into the black night sky. Millions of soft white crystalized flakes flutter down from above. You can see every breath you expel in the icy cold air. Mando grips your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze on the sides. Your response is to open your mouth and lash out your tongue to catch a few wayward flakes.

He finally slows his pace, just long enough for him to remove his hands from your neck and waist and tilts his helmet up just a degree. You sense the movement and continue to stare at the falling snow above- careful not to look at him. You feel dozens of frozen flakes land on your chest, causing your nipples to get impossibly hard- until a hot mouth streaks across your skin, seeking to melt each and every one of them.

You continue to stare into the sky above, though your hands seek and find the exposed skin of Mando’s neck and rough chin- enough contact for you to encourage his barrage of hot snow melting kisses. When his sultry tongue latches on to a nipple and sucks, your eyes roll back into your head. That familiar spiral is mounting and you’re so close to cumming again. This time you’ll give him what he needs.

Your breaths come fast now, a repetition of misty smoking air releases with each pant. You start to arch your back. “So close.” you say, your voice going horse from the air freezing your lungs. Mando’s been quieter than usual, likely trying very hard not to draw unwanted attention from the street just beyond. He quickens his pace in time with your short breaths.

“Right behind you baby...just say my name and I’ll give you what you need.”

You’re lost, completely lost for this man.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Din.” The admission is startling to you, but it’s all it takes to send you both hurtling over the edge in a simultaneous release.

You squeeze your eyes closed as the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had quakes through your core. “Din, you're making me cummm!” Your scream is cut off by Din’s mouth covering yours. You give it to him and he swallows it down.

Your pussy pulses, walls clamping down hard around his cock, wringing every last drop of sizzling hot cum from him. Din collapses on top of your bare chest, panting. You stare up into the sky, completely and utterly lost somewhere in the blank space between stars.

A short time later, you exit the alley on shaky legs, redressed and bundled in Mando’s cloak. A sanitation droid passes by. Mando tosses a rolled trench coat at it, instructing it to “incinerate it, for all I care!”. He takes your hand in his now re-gloved one and leads you back to the Crest. The entire way back, guilt roots itself down deep in your gut. There’s more. So much more you haven't told him- The truth, about Vale, the promise you gave him when he whispered in your ear.

A dark silhouette stands in the shadows across from the alleyway. A strike of match, a lick of flame- the brief indication that the shadows were never really empty to begin with.

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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4: A Rather Indecent Proposal

Links to other chapters: Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2, Chpt. 3 Chpt. 5

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Jealous!Din, a little bit of canonical violence

Word Count: ~9900 (I know it’s long, but it felt better as one chapter instead of split into two.)

Author’s note: Happy Mando Monday! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! First though, I need to apologize if the man you love or you yourself are called Eugene, but please don’t hate me for thinking it’s an unsexy name. Also, apologies to skinny men everywhere, you might not be my type, but I’m sure someone is into you.

“Do you think you could come with me for a business meeting? I could use your language skills.” Mando surprises you with his request. So far, he’s always conducted any business on his own, and except for a few weeks ago when you asked him about his bounty, he hasn’t shared any details of his work with you. But as always, you’re eager to help him if you can.

“Of course, I can. What do you need?” You’re actually kind of excited at the chance to accompany him.

“The client comes from the Unknown Regions and I hear he prefers to use Sy Bisti when possible,” Mando explains, “He’s also known to be very particular, so anything that can impress him would be helpful.”

“Absolutely, I can be your interpreter,” you agree, “When is this meeting?”

“As soon as we get to Canto Bight in a couple of hours.” He tells you. Oh, you look down at your lounging-on-the-ship comfy clothes; you’ll need to get yourself pulled together for a business meeting.

“I better go get changed into something more presentable then. Can you watch the little guy?” You ask him.

“Why? You look fine.” Mando is such a guy sometimes. You just give him an incredulous look with a small raise of your eyebrow as if to say really? “I mean, sure, I’ll watch the kid if you want to change.”

“Thanks. But, yes, I definitely need to change before we meet your client,” you reply and head down to the hull; you’re almost out of earshot when you hear him mutter to the child, “Don’t get it, she always looks fine to me.” It makes you smile to yourself that he thinks that, yet there’s a part of you that’s eager for him to see you dressed a little nicer for once.

For about the millionth time you tell yourself that you shouldn’t have a crush on Mando, but that voice is getting drowned out more and more by another one that keeps telling you to enjoy it. After your trip to Crucival, you know that he finds you attractive at least. And Maker knows you’re even more attracted to him now that you know him even better. Plus seeing him almost naked was hard to ignore! So what if he considers you just a friend, as long as you don’t let things get out of hand, or say something stupid to him, you might as well have fun with your silly little fantasies.

You rummage through your clothing and pull out a nice black dress. It’s stylish but without being too fussy and you think, it will be perfect for a meeting with a client. Besides, if you’re going to Canto Bight, you know most of the women there will be dressed to the nines so you want to make sure you’re helping Mando give off a good impression. You take the time to style your hair and put on some make-up too. You give yourself a once-over in the small mirror in the fresher and, even in the harsh industrial light, you have to say that you look pretty nice. You knew that being a nanny to a toddler was never going to be a glamorous job, but the chance to clean up like this is fun every once in a while.

“We’re landing soon, you need to come sit down!” You hear Mando calling to you, so you quickly make your way back up to the cockpit.

“Thanks,” you say as you get back to your seat, but before you sit down, you turn to Mando with a little flourish and say, “See, much more presentable for your client now.”

Din stares at you in the elegant dress; you’re literally taking his breath away and he can’t even speak for a few seconds. Finally all he can think to say is, “You look good.” And he immediately chides himself for not being able to come up with a better compliment. Thankfully, you seem pleased with his pathetic words and just give him a happy smile before buckling yourself in. He’s still staring at you, taking in the pretty hairstyle you’ve created and looking at whatever it is that you’ve done to make your lips seem redder and fuller. It isn’t until a sensor on the control panel starts beeping loudly that Din snaps back to reality and focuses on landing the Crest.

“Wait, what about the child, do we bring him with us?” In your excitement, you’ve forgotten your primary job, as you’re getting ready to head out into the hustle and bustle of this flashy city. You look at the little one’s big eyes and like his father, he also seems to be fascinated with your done-up appearance.

“Sure, I have a satchel he can ride along in. And he’s plenty old enough to get into the casino; the age to get in is 18.” Mando chuckles as he maneuvers his 50-year-old toddler into a small brown shoulder bag. Mando’s cape partially obscures the little one making him less noticeable. You suppose he’ll be all right, it’s only a meeting in the restaurant of a casino; it’s not as if you’re taking the little one to the gaming tables. Although if you’re honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if Mando said that was perfectly ok too, so long as he’s safe. You give his tiny hand a squeeze and he coos back at you seemingly eager for your little adventure.

You follow Mando off the ship and through the throngs of men in sharply tailored evening jackets and women beautifully attired in chic gowns. Everyone looks very cosmopolitan especially against the stunning background of the decadent casino. You have to admit that you were expecting something a little more garish based on the descriptions you’ve heard of Canto Bight, but this particular establishment is quite nice with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and unique modern art pieces strategically placed throughout the large lobby. With Mando in his beautiful beskar armor and you in your fashionable dress, you make a dashing pair as you pass by the colorful lights of the gaming machines.

Din leads you to a restaurant entrance and tells the maître d’ that he is here to meet a Mr. Omseki. The man seems slightly taken aback by the presence of a Mandalorian but when his gaze lands on you, his face softens and in a crisp accent he says, “Right this way, Madam” and then he barely glances at Din, as he says, “Sir”. It’s not surprising that the man would rather keep his eyes on you with your eyes shining in delight as you take in the scene around you. Din’s never cared much for Canto Bight and its rather pompous atmosphere, but he’s finding some charm in this place as he watches your reaction to it all. Not to mention, Din knows he would have received a much frostier welcome here without you by his side and he’s very glad you came with him. As you reach the client’s table, this feeling is renewed, as Mr. Omseki is all smiles as you greet him in the unusual language. Despite not understanding the words, Din can tell by the man’s animated speech, that he is positively delighted at the prospect of meeting with a beautiful woman and not just a Mandalorian bounty hunter. The man also seems happy to see the child and he gives him the flower from his lapel to play with as a small gift. Din listens as you interpret the client’s words and you all begin to exchange some welcoming small talk. Greef Karga had been the one to pass on this client to Din as a lucrative off-the-books bounty, but the man he described was temperamental and moody. Mr. Omseki is anything but moody tonight and if Din didn’t know better, he’d swear the man was flirting with you. He doesn’t love that idea, but if it helps this meeting go smoothly, it will be worth it.

Mr. Omseki is a charmer and he is thrilled to be speaking to you; he’s told you several times how pleasant it is to talk business in an ‘appropriate’ language and how overjoyed he is to speak to you. You suppose it must have been a while since he’s had the opportunity to speak Sy Bisti and perhaps that’s why he’s enjoying himself so much now. You’ve felt a little abashed at times, as you’ve interpreted his rather flowery praise of you to Mando although at least some of it has also extended to him. However, this client seems more interested in just chatting with you than he is in talking business with Mando. You try to steer the conversation back to Mando’s work, but each time you do, Mr. Omseki manages to ask you another question about yourself. Mando must sense your worry that you aren’t doing a good enough job and he drops his hand down to cover yours where it is sitting on the table. He gives you a reassuring squeeze and you continue making polite conversation with the client. You figure this must be part of his business negotiations.

Din leaves his hand covering yours in a clear message to the client that you belong with him. It’s a subtle gesture, but one that Mr. Omseki is shrewd enough to understand as shortly afterwards he shifts the conversation to the bounty that he wants Din to capture. He listens carefully as you interpret the details and he begins to formulate a plan for the hunt. Din almost has all the pertinent information, when a sudden commotion interrupts the conversation. He immediately pulls his blaster and shields you behind him. A man in a disheveled suit is pushing past the maître d’ and several waiters as he stumbles towards your table. Din realizes disappointedly that this man looks exactly like the quarry that was just described by Mr. Omseki.

“Mr. O-Omseki, I have it, I have all your m-money and the in-interest,” the man stutters out as he begins pulling out bags of credits from his coat.

“Well, well, Mr. Sanditore, looks like this is your lucky day,” Mr. Omseki drawls out, “I was just about to send this Mandalorian off to kill you.”

“Th- thank you Mr. Omseki, thank you, I promise you won’t have any trouble from me again.” The disheveled man is practically shaking with gratitude.

“Well, I am sorry Mr. Mandalorian, it was delightful to meet you and your most lovely interpreter, but I am afraid I no longer have need of your services.” Mr. Omseki says to Din. Then he turns to you and speaks in Sy Bisti in a soft voice. Din obviously can’t know what he’s saying but the mild look of surprise on your face is enough to raise his concern. Whatever it is though, you handle it gracefully and end the conversation with a pleasant tone before shifting back to Basic to say good-bye. As you exit the table, you reach for Din’s arm, threading your hand around his elbow. He is surprised by your touch but says nothing as you walk towards the large bar near the center of the restaurant.

“What did he say to you?” Din wants to know.

“He asked me if we were romantically involved, because if we weren’t he wanted to know if I was free for the rest of the evening.” You reply looking a little embarrassed.

“What did you tell him?” He really wants to hear this answer.

“I lied and said that we were. It seemed like the best solution.” You’re slightly looking away from him as you say this as if you’re worried about making eye contact.

“Good.” Din’s pleased you lied, and it’s petty, but he likes the idea of that rich man thinking that Din has something that he wants and can’t have.

“I’m sorry about the job though,” you’re saying to him now, “I know you must be disappointed.”

“It’s alright,” Din sighs a little though, “these things happen.” He sees you look around the bar area with a wistful look and realizes that you’re not ready to leave. “Besides, now we have time to stay and have a drink, just the two of us, well, us and our little sleeping bundle here.” The baby has curled up and is napping in his little satchel.

“Really?” You look so pleased that it makes Din smile to himself. You settle into one of the stools at the bar and Din motions to the bartender to order your drinks. He orders one for himself too, asking for a straw in his.

“Wait, so you do use straws?” You ask with a small laugh.

“Sure, it’s the easiest way to drink in public.” He shrugs matter-of-factly, but that just seems to make you giggle more. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know,” you say between giggles, “but there’s something so cute about you using a straw.”

“Cute?” He says, sounding slightly insulted.

“Oh stop, I mean it in a good way,” you say and light push his shoulder in a playful fashion, “It’s probably just because I’ve never seen you use a straw before.”

“So when you see me do something new, it’s cute to you?” Din is playing up his affront to the word cute because he’s enjoying teasing you.

“No, not everything new.” You roll your eyes at him. “It’s just when you do something ordinary, I guess, because I tend to think of you as extraordinary.” You let your lashes flutter a little as you say that last word, flirting with him.

“Extraordinary, huh?” He cocks his helmet to the side as he looks at you, “I like that better than cute.”

“Whatever, you’re still cute too.” You give him a wink and then turn to the bartender who has your drinks. Both glasses have a straw and you make quite a show of using yours, so much so that Din can’t help but let out a laugh. You’re both enjoying the moment so much that neither of you notice a thin, lanky man approach you.

“Ex-excuse me?” The man is trying to get your attention. Mando shifts back into alert mode almost instantly as he says, “Yes?”

The man is about as tall as Mando with very fair hair and pale skin. He looks to be in his mid-thirties and seems a little out of place here in a casino. Although, like the other men here, he’s wearing an expensive suit, but everything about him looks slightly uncomfortable and it’s as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with his body, like the way he holds his shoulders and moves his hands looks anxious.

“I’d like to hire you for an evening,” the man says, but weirdly he looks at you instead of Mando, but you figure that’s because he’s probably too intimidated to look directly at the Mandalorian.

“What sort of work do you need?” Mando asks in an even tone.

“Oh?” The man turns and looks at Mando directly, “I- I didn’t mean you. I want to hire her for an evening.”

Mando’s reaction to this statement is so swift you almost miss it. He instantly pulls his fist back and punches the man square in the face, knocking him to the floor. Mando looks down at him and grits out in an angry voice, “She’s not for sale.”

Well, this is a first. You thought you looked pretty nice tonight, but apparently, you look like a prostitute.

“Wait, wait, I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” The man cowers on the ground but tries to explain himself, “I didn’t mean to insult her, or you.”

“So what did you mean?” Your curiosity has gotten the best of you.

“I just need a beautiful woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for an evening, that’s all.” He says.

“Exactly how is that different?” Mando is still towering over the man in a very threatening manner.

“Just to attend a party with me, and help me look good,” the man says quickly, “I promise nothing s-sex related at all.” He holds his hands up in a defensive posture. He looks back to you with pleading eyes, “I can pay you really well, and all you need to do is go to a party and wear a pretty dress.”

You admit you’re intrigued by the idea and you know that with Mando losing out on this latest bounty, any extra funds would be helpful. You put your hand on Mando’s bicep in what you hope is a calming motion as you say, “It can’t hurt to hear him out, Mando.”

“Are you serious?” Mando asks you in a low voice.

You shrug, “If we don’t like what he has to say, you can punch him again.” The man on the floor lets out a little whimper at that, but Mando gives you a small nod and backs away from the man.

Tentatively, the man picks himself up off the floor and extends a hand out to you, “I’m Eugene DeWitt, I own a company that creates high-end gaming machines and I develop algorithms for those machines.”

You shake his hand briefly, and give him your first name. “So, Mr. DeWitt, why do you need a pretend girlfriend to go to a party?”

“Please, call me Eugene. It’s the annual celebration for the casino owners and it’s my best chance to network with them. I’ve been to the party the last three years, but I haven’t been able to barely get a word with any of the important owners.” He explains.

“What makes you think I’d be able to change that?” You’re not sure what effect your presence would have on his ability to do business.

“I need to find a way to catch their interest and impress them, and I think a woman like you would be the best way to do that.” He tells you.

“I’m flattered, but I think you might be overestimating my appeal,” you reply, “besides, why don’t you just ask out a woman you want to date?”

“I’ve tried,” Eugene admits, “but honestly, even if they’d said yes, I know they wouldn’t have the same effect as you; you’re drop dead gorgeous.”

“He’s right,” Mando says softly, almost under his breath. Your head snaps to the side to look at him after that comment. You don’t have any time to process it however because Eugene is still speaking.

“I’ll pay you 20,000 credits just to go to the party with me and pretend to be my girlfriend.” He offers.

What?!? Is he serious? Suddenly this job has real potential. But you’re still skeptical that he wants you to just attend the party, it feels like that amount of money would come with additional stipulations.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to just go to the party with you and pretend to be your girlfriend, but you’re not expecting sex or any other sexual favors?” You state this outright because you need everything to be clear.

“Yes,” he confirms, “I would need you to be affectionate towards me, but only in an appropriate way in public.”

“Define what you mean by affectionate.” You want to make sure you know precisely what he wants.

“Hold my hand or arm, let me put my arm around you, dance with me, maybe let me give you a small kiss?” He suggests.

“No kissing.” Mando interjects all of a sudden.

“O-Ok, no kissing,” Eugene agrees, “But would you be alright with the rest of that?”

“Yes, I can do that.” His terms seem reasonable and honestly, that much money to just attend a party? You’ve had way worse jobs.

“I’m going too,” Mando states and from his tone of voice this is not up for debate, “I’ll be your bodyguard for the evening.”

“That’s a good idea,” Eugene is intrigued by the prospect; “A Mandalorian bodyguard would also be impressive.”

“Good, then you can pay us 40,000 credits for the evening,” you counter-offer. You know it’s ballsy to ask, but truthfully Mando’s skills are worth a lot and he should be paid as well.

“That was uh more than I was hoping to spend,” Eugene says.

“Maybe so, but now you’re getting both of us to help you impress these future clients,” you smile flirtatiously and look him right in the eye holding his gaze.

“I can do 35,000,” Eugene offers.

“Alright, 35,000 and you buy me a new dress and shoes for this party.” That last part is really only because you don’t own any other dresses that would be suitable for his event, but also part of you wants to see if you can get him to give in to you.

“Can the dress be red?” Eugene asks.

“Sure, I’ll get a red dress, if that’s what you’d like,” You’re totally fine with that.

“We have a deal.” He says.

“One more thing,” Mando speaks up again, “Pay her half the credits now.”

“How do I know you won’t just take my money and leave?” Eugene asks.

“You have my word as a Mandalorian.” His tone is serious and just intimidating enough that Eugene capitulates. He takes out a holopad and asks for your information and just like that, 17,500 credits are in your account. It’s more money than you’ve ever had.

You finalize all the arrangements for tomorrow, with Eugene offering to have his mother watch the child for the evening. Mando is a bit reluctant at first to have someone else watch the kid but he realizes it will be hard to pull off looking like a bodyguard with a baby in tow. Likewise, you can hardly play the role of trophy girlfriend if you have the little guy. You wait until Eugene takes his leave of you for the night before you turn to Mando to exclaim over this crazy turn of events.

“Oh my, Mando, can you believe it? 17,500 credits for each of us, just for one night of going to a party?” You can’t help the excitement in your voice.

“Hmm, yes, it’s a lot,” he says, with a lot less enthusiasm, “but it’s all your money.”

“What?” He catches you by surprise, “No, Mando, I’m going to split it with you.”

“He only wanted to hire you,” he states firmly.

“Yes, but I was never going to do this without you. I was going to suggest you come too but you beat me to it.” You explain to him.

“Were you really?” He sounds a little skeptical, but there’s a small note of hope in his voice too.

“Absolutely. I’m not so naïve that I would agree to go to a party with a total stranger without you there to protect me.” It feels so natural to you now that of course he would be there to watch over you. “Besides, I know that you being there will keep Eugene from getting too handsy.”

Mando makes a little snorting sound, “Yeah, I could do without the affectionate part.”

“Don’t worry, I can do just enough to make it look believable without letting it get out of hand.” You link your arm through his and lean a little onto his shoulder, “C’mon, Mando, be a little happy about the money with me.”

He reaches up and pats your hand where it holds onto him. “Alright, since it means that much to you, I’m happy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you are in a swanky boutique recommended by Eugene where you are on a mission to find a red evening gown for tonight. You tried to tell Mando that his presence was not necessary for this, but he insisted on coming along with the child in tow. It’s been an adventure already because as you were looking over possible dress choices with the saleswoman, the mischievous toddler managed to climb out of his satchel and onto a table in the lingerie section. When you caught him, he was playing in a pile of lace thongs with one pair dangling off his ear. Even more amusing was Mando who was trying to extract the kiddo from his panty pile while trying hard not to touch any of the thongs. Thankfully, the saleswoman thought it was all utterly charming and laughed right along with you. Now Mando and the little guy are sitting together looking only slightly out of place on an elegant velvet sofa while they wait for you to try on dresses.

It’s been so long since you’ve shopped for anything this fancy, you were feeling a little intimidated at first. Yet the more you viewed the beautiful gowns, the more excited you became at the prospect of wearing one for the evening. The selection in this shop is lovely and since you know Eugene is paying, for once you’re not worried about the price. You slip on the first dress and can’t help but smile at your stylish reflection. This first one is a slinky satin gown that hugs your curves. You step out into the main area of the dressing rooms where Mando is waiting and where there is also a large three-sided mirror.

“Oh that looks very nice on you,” the saleswoman says.

You turn to look at yourself in the multiple angles offered from the mirror, “I’m not sure, what do you think, Mando?”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly. Well, with that lack of enthusiasm, you know this dress is out.

The next dress is more of a ball gown style and it’s kind of a lot with a beaded bodice and a full tulle skirt. Still you figure you should see it in the better mirror for the full effect.

“Oh no, I look like a red powder puff!” You say in dismay.

“I like it better,” Mando says, and then under his breath you just barely hear him say, “You’re more covered up.”

“I can’t wear this and be taken seriously.” It’s on to dress number three.

As you adjust the straps for the third dress, you find your face heating up at your reflection. This dress screams trophy girlfriend as it is super sexy. The deep sweetheart neckline shows off a lot of cleavage and there are thigh-high slits on both sides of the skirt.

You’re barely out of the dressing room when you hear, “Absolutely not.”

You can see Mando’s visor trained on you and it feels like that black T is boring a hole into your body.

“I don’t know, I think I look really good in this one.” Wow, when you turn around you can see that this dress is practically backless.

“You look fabulous! Very hot!” the saleswoman coos at you.

“Go change.” Mando’s voice sounds deeper somehow and he’s using his this-is-not-a-request voice. A little naughty part of you wants to argue back with his demand, but you did tell him that you didn’t want Eugene to get too liberal with his definition of affection, so you figure Mando’s probably right.

When you head back to the dressing room, you’re down to just one more dress and as you slip it over your head, you know that this is the one. It’s made of a soft, floaty chiffon with a bodice that accentuates your bust and your waistline. The skirt flows down your hips and legs gracefully and while there’s a slit in this dress too, it’s more hidden and only offers a glimpse of leg as you move. When you step out of the dressing room this time all you hear is a soft murmur of approval from the saleswoman.

You smile at your reflection as you twirl a little in the mirror and imagine how nice you will look with your hair styled and with your evening makeup.

“This has to be the one,” the saleswoman is saying to you now, “Doesn’t she look enchanting?” and she turns to Mando for his approval.

Mando nods his helmet slightly, but remains quiet. You didn’t really expect him to say much, but you were hoping for a bit more than that. At least he isn’t disapproving of this gown though.

“I have the perfect shoes to go with this dress. I’ll be right back!” The saleswoman tells you.

Din waits until she is out of earshot and then says softly, “You look beautiful.” He watches as your face lights up with his compliment and you thank him, reaching out to grasp his arm briefly as you do. That seems to be a thing you do now when you’re particularly pleased with something he’s done. You turn back to the mirror to inspect the dress more and he lets his gaze roam over you.

The truth is Din thought you looked beautiful in all of the dresses, even in the silly puffy one. He didn’t want to encourage you too much with the first dress because although you looked great it in, the style was fairly revealing and he disliked the idea of Eugene seeing you in it. But then, that third dress, Maker, he almost had a heart attack when he saw you in that. It was so sexy he wanted to rip it off you right there in the middle of the store. There was no way in hell any other man was going to see you in that. This dress you’re wearing now is more sophisticated and gives off more of a sensual elegance than outright sexiness. He still hates the idea of Eugene seeing you in it and what’s more thinking that you chose the dress special for him. This whole job is stupid, but he can’t deny the money is too good to pass up. Still he doesn’t trust Eugene to have such pure intentions as he claims and he knows he won’t let the man have a single moment alone with you if he can help it.

You’ve finished choosing the shoes and now you’re heading back into the dressing room to put on your regular clothes. Din breathes a sigh of relief at seeing your normal self again and he feels himself relax a bit. He follows the saleswoman to the register station and watches as she carefully places the gown in a garment bag. You’re about to give the woman Eugene’s account information, when Din hands over his own credit chip to pay for the dress and shoes.

“Mando, what are you doing? Eugene is going to cover the cost of this.” You voice conveys your confusion at his actions.

“I’m not letting another man buy you a dress,” Din mutters.

“Why not? It’s only to wear for this party tonight.” You’re looking at him completely perplexed.

“Because I want to buy it for you,” he says more firmly this time. Din sees a flash of something in your eyes that he likes; it’s a mixture of respect and awe, and perhaps a touch of desire too if he’s not being too hopeful.

“Well, if you’re certain,” you reply softly still looking at him in that new way.

“I am.” Din takes the garment bag from the saleswoman and motions for her to charge everything to his chip. “You’re sure you didn’t want the big puffy dress, though?” And even though you can’t see the smirk on his face, he’s fairly confident you can hear it in his tone.

“Thank you, Mando, but I think this is the best choice.” You let out a light laugh and give him that beaming smile again that he loves to see. You follow him out of the store and then grasp his arm again as you say, “I really do love that dress, thank you for buying it for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Din tells you, wishing that it would just be the two of you going out tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re sure you want to do this? We could still turn around and leave.” This is the second time Mando has asked you that. The first was when you came out of the fresher after finishing your make-up and he saw your completed look for the evening. He didn’t compliment you again, but the long pause he took to look at you and the way he tilted his helmet to the side made your insides flutter nonetheless. Now you’re standing outside Eugene’s door and it seems he’s still having second thoughts.

“It will be fine, Mando. Just remember that this money means you can take a break from hunting and spend some extra time on finding the Jedi for the little guy here.” He sighs in response and knocks on the door.

You shift the toddler in your arms and you look down at him. He’s been having fun playing with the soft material of your dress and he’s got a big handful of your skirt in his little claws right now. The only worry you have is about leaving him with a stranger tonight. Eugene’s mother will probably be fine, but you’ve grown so attached to the child you’re feeling more anxious about being away from him that you anticipated.

“You’ll be a good boy tonight, won’t you, buddy?” You say to the child as you carefully extricate your dress from his little hand. “Mando and I will miss you but we won’t be too late.”

The door opens to reveal Eugene in a tuxedo with a red flower on his lapel and next to him, a cheerful looking older woman.

“Good evening, you look spectacular,” Eugene greets you enthusiastically.

“Thank you, you look dashing yourself,” you respond with a slight flirtiness to your tone. You figure you might as well get used to your role now.

“Oooh! Is this the sweet little baby I get to watch tonight?” The woman seems kind and the child coos at her with interest.

“Yes, thank you for doing this,” you respond pleasantly. You give the little guy a hug and a kiss on his forehead before handling him over to her.

“What a little charmer! You don’t have to worry about a thing, my dear. I’ll take good care of your baby and you take good care of mine.” She says with a wink towards Eugene.

“Th- thank you, mother.” Eugene sounds embarrassed and you try your best not to snicker. “We should get going.” He extends his arm to you and you lightly thread your hand around his elbow.

This whole time Mando hasn’t made a sound and is standing so still you’d almost think he was a suit of armor on display. But when you take Eugene’s arm, Mando lets out a little grunt that sounds like disapproval. You turn to look at him and mouth, “It will be OK” and give him as encouraging a smile as you can. The nod of his helmet to you is slight, but you know he understood.

Eugene leads you out onto the city walkway with Mando following close behind. The party is being held in the largest casino and it’s a short walk from Eugene’s home. Once again, the streets are filled with fashionable people ready for a night on the town. You feel the soft swish of your skirt against your legs and smile again at how nice it feels to be dressed up like this. You make small talk with Eugene, getting comfortable with him so you can make this look like a real date. You resist the urge to turn back and look at Mando though because you know if you do, your feigned interest in Eugene will falter.

By the time you reach your destination, you’ve managed to perfect a nice light laugh at Eugene’s jokes and you feel comfortable enough to lean into him in an affectionate way. As you enter the opulent ballroom of the casino, you paste a brilliant smile onto your face as if you’re simply delighted to be there. Eugene has told you he wants you to help draw the attention of various men in attendance so you figure you’ll sort of openly flirt with the room and see who notices. You catch the eye of a well-dressed older gentleman, and your technique works wonderfully as he comes right over.

“Good evening, I’m Mr. Belvers, the owner of this casino; it’s so very nice to have you here, my dear.” He greets you with a small bow and flourish of his hand.

“Why, thank you!” You respond warmly, “It was so nice of my boyfriend to bring me here tonight. You must know him, Mr. Eugene DeWitt of Advanced Gaming Enterprises?” You introduce Eugene with a smile.

“Oh yes, of course, Mr. DeWitt, how nice to see you again.” With the introductions made, Eugene launches into conversation with Mr. Belvers. You listen as best you can to the business talk and smile and nod like the perfect trophy girlfriend. It’s boring, but really easy when you realize that not much more is expected of you. Finally, with a promise to dance with Mr. Belvers later, the conversation ends and you breathe a small sigh of relief that if anything at least you got Eugene a few minutes with the owner of this place.

“That was incredible!” Eugene is saying excitedly, “I’ve never even met the man before but he acted like we were old friends. You are fantastic!” He gives your hand a squeeze and pulls you a little closer to him. He steers you deeper into the ballroom, eager to make another contact. You turn your head to look at Mando and give him a smile and a subtle nod, which he returns.

The pattern continues throughout the party, you spy an older man, make eyes at him, and reel him in for Eugene. When you’re between conversations, Mando has taken to checking in with you to make sure everything is going well. All in all, it’s about what you expected and you have to admit that Eugene was right; apparently, these men are all easily swayed by the look of a pretty face. You’re please to see that Mando’s presence is having a good effect too. These bigshots are very impressed that Eugene has a Mandalorian for his private security. Several of them have even asked Mando if he’s available for future security jobs too. Who knows, maybe Mando will come away with some business contacts of his own at the end of tonight.

As the evening continues, Eugene seems to be growing more confident, and you’ve noticed he’s taken to placing his arm around your waist. It doesn’t bother you, but occasionally his hand does seem to be a touch low. He also leaned in just a moment ago and let his lips brush your cheek. It wasn’t really much, but still you’re surprised he dared to try it.

“I said no kissing.” Mando’s voice is hard and direct, causing Eugene to flinch and instantly put more space between the two of you. “Keep your hands above her waist too.” Your heartbeat stutters at Mando’s protectiveness and you look at him with a grateful smile. When you’re sure no one else is looking, you give him the flirtatious look you’ve been using all evening and then top it off with a wink. You notice that he clenches his fists as you do this and then gives you a deeper nod in response.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Din’s mantra for tonight is not a pleasant one. He’d much rather be hunting down a bounty right now than having to watch you flirt and simper to every man in the room. He’d rather be slogging through a swamp or crossing a frozen tundra to catch a quarry than have to watch yet another man ogling you or touching you. And then, there’s Eugene; Din would like to punch him in the face again. The man keeps getting bolder as the night progresses. Din’s caught him staring at your breasts and your ass several times, and he’s clearly getting too handsy. The only thing making this night remotely bearable is the way you keep looking over to him with such sweet glances, as if you’re sharing a secret with him. Although the way you looked at him just now made him want to sweep you up in his arms and haul you out of here as fast as he could. If you do that again, he doesn’t know if he can be responsible for his actions.

Din groans to himself, and prepares for this night to get worse because Eugene is leading you out onto the dance floor. There’s no way for him to follow close to you while you’re dancing and he’s willing to bet that Eugene takes advantage of that opportunity. In an attempt to stay in Eugene’s eye line as much as possible, Din stalks around the dance floor following your swaying movements. He can’t help but watch the graceful way you move as you dance, noticing the soft arch of your back and the delicate glide of your feet across the floor. As he sees Eugene’s arms pull you in closer, Din feels a deep burning anger in his stomach and once again thinks about breaking Eugene’s nose with his fist. This is the worst job ever.

Dancing with Eugene isn’t so bad you decide. It’s a nice break from all the forced flirting and extremely dull conversations you’ve had to put up with all evening. And despite the fact that you’d much rather be dancing with someone else, it’s still a pleasant activity. Moreover, after Mando’s warning, Eugene is back to being a gentleman and keeping his hands in polite territory. He does seem to be enjoying the dancing himself, quite a lot by the expression on his face, although every once in a while his confidence seems to fade for a moment.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Eugene looks at you quizzically.

“Alright,” you agree, curious.

“Are you and the Mandalorian involved? Romantically, I mean?” He looks nervous as he asks this.

“Do you think I would have agreed to this date if we were?” You deflect his question somewhat because you find that you don’t really want to admit that there’s nothing between you and Mando. Especially because it feels like you’ve been growing closer. You think about when he insisted on buying you the dress earlier today, and how special that felt, definitely not something a friend would do. Even tonight, there is this energy between you and Mando that you can’t deny, nevermind that you’re technically on a date with Eugene.

“He seems extremely protective of you.” Eugene replies.

You shrug lightly, “He is.”

“You know, if you wanted something else, a different life, I could make that happen for you,” Eugene looks at your earnestly, “After tonight, I’m going to be an even wealthier man. I would treat you like a princess.”

“Eugene,” you sigh, “I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Don’t answer yet,” he insists, “Think about it. Please.” He pulls you in closer to him so that you’re dancing cheek to cheek. You know he means it to be romantic but you feel nothing. There’s nothing to think about.

When the music ends, you feel relieved that you can put some space between the two of you. You’re turning to look for Mando when unexpectedly you hear a loud crash followed by blaster fire. As if he materialized out of nowhere, Mando is at your side pulling you to the floor and covering you with his body.

“I’ve got you,” Mando says, holding you close with one arm as the other holds his blaster. Your heart is racing and you hear the commotion of many people shouting, rushing feet, and general mayhem. You pull yourself tighter under Mando, squeeze your eyes shut, and try to keep as still as you can. Suddenly, Mando lifts off you slightly and fires three shots in rapid succession.

“It’s alright,” He tells you, “I took care of them. Everything is alright.”

“You’re sure?” Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched.

“Hey, look at me, come on, look at me” Mando’s voice is soft and comforting, and you tip your head up and open your eyes to look at his visor. “You’re safe, no one will hurt you.”

“Thank you, Mando,” you breathe, feeling relief flood your body. Even though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s looking back at you and it’s soothing.

“You have to let go of me now, cyar’ika, so I can help you up off this floor.” His voice is still soft and you can hear a lightness to it now. You hadn’t realized but you have a death grip on the material of his thick protective shirt on the side of his body. Chuckling weakly at yourself, you release him and he climbs off you before reaching down to pull you back to your feet.

“That was incredible shooting, Mando!” Eugene can’t hide how impressed and excited he.

“I’ll say it was!” the casino owner from before, Mr. Belvers, is coming over to offer his praise to Mando too. He gives Mando’s hand a hearty shake and then raises his voice to address the party, “Folks! Everything looks to be all safe now, thanks to this heroic Mandalorian!”

The partygoers erupt in applause and for the next several minutes, people are coming up to thank Mando personally. You’re glad to see Mando get appreciation he deserves for saving everyone, but from his body language, you think he seems a bit embarrassed by all the attention.

“Who were they?” You turn and ask Mr. Belvers.

“Some thugs who have been plaguing the casinos for weeks now. I think they came here tonight trying to rob people of their valuables. By the way, there is a reward for their capture and I’ll see to it that those credits are yours, sir.” He says this last part directly to Mando.

Din thanks the man and gives him a small card with his guild information, explaining how best to pay him. Now that the danger in the room has cleared, quite literally by casino workers who’ve come to take away the bodies of the dead men, people are starting to go back to the party. These people are so wealthy and spoiled that these violent men and the Mandalorian who dispatched them are already just an amusing anecdote to be shared over cocktails. He is so ready to leave this place. Din looks over to you and sees that while you’re calmer now, you are still visibly shaken from the intrusion of the would-be robbers. He wonders sheepishly if maybe he scared you a little too by yanking you to the ground so quickly, but it was pure instinct to protect you. Nitwit Eugene is rambling on about what an exciting evening it’s been to whoever will listen, completely oblivious to your discomfort. Din decides Eugene’s gotten more than his money’s worth and he’s taking you home right now.

“It’s time for us to leave.” Din’s voice is stern as he steps closer to you and Eugene, not caring that he’s interrupting the man.

“So soon, the party is still going-” Eugene tries to protest, but when he sees Din’s rigid posture, he trails off.

“I am rather tired, Eugene,” you say, and then lower your voice “Besides, it will be better to leave them wanting more.” Din watches as you bat your eyelashes at the man and give him a soft smile, and then like magic, Eugene is agreeing to leave. Din does have to admire your skill at using your feminine wiles to get men to do your bidding. He also knows that if you ever choose to try that with him, he’ll be putty in your hands. He smiles at the thought, but it’s short-lived as soon as he sees Eugene slide his arm around your waist again as he steers you towards the exit. Din tromps after the two of you, at least this stupid job is almost over.

You’re close to Eugene’s place and you’re feeling quite glad that this fake date is almost over. You just want to get the child and hurry back to the Crest so Mando can fly you away from here. Eugene is wittering on telling you how great you were and what a wonderful pair you make, but you’re only barely listening to him. Blessedly when you get to Eugene’s door, Mando is all business.

“It’s time to make the final transfer of credits,” Mando tells Eugene.

“Of course,” Eugene replies, taking out his holopad and completing the necessary functions. “Thank you again, you were both very impressive.”

Eugene opens the door and you and Mando wait for a few minutes until he returns with the little one who is sound asleep. He hands the child to Mando and then turns to you, “I’d like a moment alone to speak to you before we say goodnight.”

“Eugene, I think I did everything you wanted tonight, but our fake date is over.” You say pointedly.

“Please, it will only take a moment.” He looks at Mando, “Please.”

“Fine,” you say and give Mando a small nod. He doesn’t exactly give you any privacy, but Mando does take a few steps away and turns his body slightly so he’s no longer facing you head on.

Eugene takes your hand in his and says in a soft voice, “Please, tell me that you’ve thought about my offer?”

“There’s nothing for me to think about; I belong with them,” you tell him as you pull your hand from his grasp and gesture towards Mando and the child.

“But there’s so much more I can do for you, I can give you more than he can. I can give you a safe home, beautiful clothes and jewelry, you’ll never want for anything.” Eugene must think you’re completely shallow and nothing but a gold digger. “And, I would worship you.” He’s really piling it on thick now.

“Eugene, you don’t even know me, and if you did, you would know that I’m not interested in that life,” you state firmly, “I think it’s time to say goodbye. I wish you all the best with your business.” You turn to go but Eugene reaches out for your arm. Fortunately Mando is already back at your side and he brushes Eugene’s arm away roughly as he says,

“She said no.” Din turns to escort you away, placing his arm around your waist, mimicking Eugene’s earlier touch. It means he’s holding you much closer to his body than he has before when he usually just places a palm on the small of your back. He feels you relax into his touch and for the first time this evening, he feels a sense of rightness. Still though, Eugene’s words I can give you more than he can are ringing in his ears and his self-doubt makes him sigh.

He waits until you are far enough away so that Eugene cannot hear him and in a small voice, Din forces himself to ask you, “You’re certain you don’t want to stay? He did make you a good offer.”

“What? No, I absolutely don’t want to stay with Eugene.” Your answer is swift and a bit shocked.

“I would understand if you did.” Din says, his voice still soft and trying to hide his emotion.

“Mando, do you want me to stay?” You stop and turn to face him so you can look directly at his visor, your face openly displaying your displeasure at his words.

“No,” he says strongly, “I don’t. Not at all. But it would be wrong of me to hold you back if you wanted to leave.”

You slip your hand into his and look at him with soft eyes as you say, “Mando, I don’t want to leave you, or the child. I’m happy with you both, happier than I’ve been in a long time. Eugene is wrong; he doesn’t know what you can give me.”

Din’s heart pounds at your words, as he says, “I’m glad,” he pauses just for a second before he tells you, “I don’t want you to leave us.” He gives your hand a small squeeze and turns to continue walking.

“Besides, there’s no way I could stay with a man I’m not attracted to in the slightest.” Your voice has a lighter tone to it and it breaks a bit of the tension.

“He wasn’t that ugly,” Din shrugs and you laugh in response.

“No, it wasn’t really about his looks, just the overall way he carried himself. I prefer a man with more confidence.” You say.

“Confidence is attractive.” Din agrees with you.

“Yeah, it is. I like a man who can walk into a room and earn everyone’s respect just by the way he holds himself. That’s incredibly attractive.” You give him a slight side-glance as you say this. “But if we’re being shallow, then I also wasn’t physically attracted to Eugene either.”

“Why not?” Din’s curiosity is peaked.

“He was much too skinny.” You wrinkle your nose a bit as you say this.

“You like chubby men?” Din chuckles, and while he’s not chubby, he thinks of his own stomach which isn’t quite as flat as it used to be when he was younger.

“I like bigger men,” you clarify, “Men who are broader, more muscular. Although chubby is cute too. When I cuddle with a guy, I want something to cuddle in to.”

“Is that so?” It’s not lost on Din that what you’ve just described is essentially him and he can’t deny how much he likes hearing that. Plus, now he’s imagining what it would be like to cuddle with you. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought however, because you’re giggling at something.

“Well and then there was the worst part, his name,” you say rather playfully.

“What was wrong with his name?” Din’s never thought about a name being part of someone’s attractiveness.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could seriously moan out Eugene in a moment of passion.” You’re consumed by giggles at the idea.

Din is stunned by what you’ve just said and all he can think about is what your voice might sound like if you were to moan out his name, his real name. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to need to respond to you as you’re still wracked with laughter.

“Oh no!” You stop laughing and gasp, “I didn’t think.”

“What?” He has no idea what could be bothering you.

“Your name isn’t Eugene, is it?” Your eyes are wide as you look at him.

Din lets out a loud laugh at how comically horrified you look at the prospect. He’s still chuckling as he tells you, “Hell no.”

“Thank the Maker,” you mutter under your breath, making Din laugh again.

You’ve made your way back to the Razor Crest now and it isn’t until you have to let go of him so that he can open the ramp, that you realize you’ve been holding Mando’s hand this entire time. It felt so natural and easy to walk holding his hand, and you hope he felt the same way. You watch as he tucks the child into his pram for the night. You should probably go get yourself ready for bed, but you want to keep talking to Mando.

“May I ask you a question?” You say as he turns back towards you.

“Of course.” He nods to you.

“Why were you so adamant about no kissing tonight? I mean not that I wanted to kiss Eugene,” you make a face at the idea, “But, it seemed to really bother you?”

“Oh” Is all that he says and then he looks away slightly. You wait patiently but for a while it seems as though that might be the only answer you get, until he finally says, “I didn’t want to see him kiss you. I don’t want to see any man kiss you.”

The air between you feels suddenly charged, and you look into his visor where you think his eyes are, and you can’t help yourself from asking, “Why not?”

“Because I can’t kiss you.” Mando admits.

“Do- do you want to kiss me?” You can’t believe you’re daring to ask him that but you need to know.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says and you can hear frustration in his tone, “I shouldn’t and I can’t.”

“I would like to kiss you, but only if it’s something you want too,” you admit to him softly.

“I do want to kiss you,” Mando sighs and he moves towards you slightly but then holds himself in check.

“So Mandalorians don’t kiss? I just want to understand, I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do or that goes against your beliefs,” you explain, wanting him to understand that you respect his creed. You can’t deny how much you want to feel closer to him and show him how you feel, but the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable or do something he’ll regret.

“They do, there are… loopholes, but I- I’ve never-, I want to, but-” Mando shifts his feet and looks down.

“It’s ok, I understand.” You’re quiet for a moment and you think perhaps you should just drop this. But then you can’t stop yourself from asking, “What about the Keldabe Kiss? Didn’t you say there was something softer?” Your face heats up as you remember that moment well; you’ve thought about it often.

“You remembered that?” Mando says in a low voice.

“It was pretty unforgettable, Mando,” you reply with a smile.

“There is a softer version. I could show you. If you’d let me.” His voice sounds hopeful.

“I’d like that.”

He steps closer to you then and seems to stare at your face for a long moment until you decide to close the distance between you two. You’re so close you can hear him breathing. He reaches up and places his large hands on either side of your face, holding you still, as he slowly brings his helmet down to touch your forehead. When he finally makes contact, you hear him let out a shaky breath. You bring your hands to his waist and pull him in a little closer to you as you maintain contact with him. While this isn’t what you pictured when you thought of kissing him, you can’t deny how intimate and special it feels. Just from the deliberate way that Mando is holding you, tells you how important this is for him. You stay like that holding each other and feeling suspended in time.

“I know this isn’t the same as real kissing,” Mando says, “but I like holding you like this. I’ve thought about doing this a lot.” His voice is so soft you almost feel like you imagined his confession.

“I like it too,” you tell him. You’re about to tell him how much you’ve thought about being held by him as well, when suddenly the child’s cries fill the air. Just like that, the moment between you and Mando is gone and you hurry over to pick up the little one and soothe him.

“I guess I should go get us on our way. Besides, he always sleeps better when we’re in hyperspace.” Din takes a step towards the ladder, but then pauses before coming over to you and dropping his helmet down onto your forehead again for just a few seconds. It’s a small gesture, but his heart soars at being able to do it. He gives the child a comforting pat on the back before turning away and heading to the cockpit, his head full of thoughts of you.

P.S. Don’t think that you missed hearing him call you cyar’ika, you’ll be sure to ask him about it later ;)

--------‐------------------------------------Thank you for reading! Here's the link to Chapter 5 Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in later chapters.

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

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milfjinart · 3 years

Note

I love pins too!!! What are your favorites???

omggg okay I’m glad you asked this because it made me actually sit down and pick out some favorites (it was so hard lol)

so. buckle up.

first off, there’s this absolutely gorgeous, gold metal LE50 Cody pin from ElectricInkStudios! They’re a smaller company, and I absolutely love the softness and detail of all their designs. I have their Rex and Obi-Wan pins too, but Cody is my fave. It’s so warm and sunny and goes perfectly with the sandstone-orange baseball cap I wear all the time!!

Next, this fuckin badass Ahsoka pin from Tomorrowlanddesign. I just loveee how detailed and dramatic the art style is!!!

Next, this LE66 pin of the 501st battalion from ZARPindom. I love pins with unique little details, and this one has a real cloth flag, handsewn by the grandma of one of the shop owners!! 🥺🥺

Also I love my “who the fuck is ahsoka tano” pin from Whatthewhatpins purely for its comedic value. Cracks me up every time I look at it tbh

Moving on, another of my favorites is this glow-in-the-dark holo Ahsoka pin from Hyperspacepins, as well as this beautifullll Threepio and Artoo pin from Punchitchewiepress!! Again, I love the Ahsoka pin because it’s so unique, and then honestly every PICP pin I own is just a work of art.

Then we have this awesome Plo Koon pin from TeamTanoAlive. I love how big and detailed it is and his pose is just so cool!! When it’s not summertime and boiling hot, I love wearing this pin on my farm overalls :)

Next up, more pins I love for their uniqueness:

1. Mando + Gideon’s TIE fighter by Macguffingoods! The little Din hanging off the chain is just. So good

2. Jedi holocron pin, another lovely one from Punchitchewiepress. The blue is sandblasted enamel and it is sooo pretty in the sunlight (I also have their Sith holocron pin and they go so well together!!!)

3. Death Star + Millenium Falcon pin from ZARPindom. These guys honestly always knock it out of the park with their pin designs, this one is absolutely gorgeous - from the silver plating to the translucent blue enamel to the screenprinted details on the Falcon and the TIE, I just love love love this pin!!

4. Mando flamethrower pin from bbcre8. It’s a sliding pin, so you can slide the flame back and forth as though it’s coming out of his vambrace! Again, just super unique and such a fun little detail :-) and the level of detail on the screenprinting is amazing!!

Last but certainly not least, all my clone helmet pins from FulcrumDawn. They honestly might be my favorite shop, and I could make a whole post talking about my pins of theirs! The one pictured below is of Captain Keeli, and I keep it on my backpack because the colors go so perfectly together. But I also have 11 of their other clone helmet pins and counting, along with some of their iron heart pins and a Sentinel pin! I just really love how they make pins of less popular characters. They’re coming out with a Colt pin soon and I’m definitely snagging that!! :’)

aaah okay this post is pretty long so I’ll stop but I definitely have more favorites!!! Like I said I could honestly make a whole post dedicated to my FulcrumDawn pins, or my PICP pins, or my Ahsoka pin collection, or my Mando pin collection, or or or —

Image IDs below the cut!

Photo 1

[Image ID: Enamel pin of Commander Cody from The Clone Wars. It is chest-up with his helmet on. The plating is shiny gold metal, and the enamel colors of his armor are shades of soft, muted orange and white. There is no black in the image, just dark gold for the shading. Behind Cody’s head is a large Galactic Republic wheel logo, edged in gold plating with white enamel for the blank spaces in between the spokes of the wheel. The pin itself is pinned on a sandstone-orange baseball cap. Below the pin are hand-embroidered desert plants - ephedra, rabbitbrush, and scarlet paintbrush. End image ID.]

Photo 2

[Image ID: Ahsoka bust pin held in my hand; it’s a bit longer than my fingers. The art style is kind of cartoony and dramatic. Ahsoka’s lekku are long, like they were in Rebels, and also her dark blue lekku markings are wavy like they were in Rebels. Her skin is dark orange, as though you were seeing her at dusk; her eyelashes are huge and dark, and her eyes are vivid electric blue. She is wearing a simple black cloak with silver trim, and a dark gray headband with a light gray stone set in the middle. End image ID.]

Photo 3

[Image ID: The first pin is of four 501st troopers, including Captain Rex, holding up a red cloth flag with a black Galactic Republic symbol on it; they’re in the pose of that famous Iwo Jima flag-raising photograph. they are wearing phase 2 armor and standing on brown dirt, and a discarded phase 2 clone helmet is half-buried in the dirt towards the right edge of the pin. The second pin is round and has a thin light blue border around the edge, followed by a thick band of dark blue with the words “WHO THE FUCK IS AHSOKA TANO” in light blue over top of the dark blue band. In the center of the pin is a padawan-aged Ahsoka; just her head and lekku. She’s wearing her akul-tooth headdress, and looking over her left shoulder and glaring at the viewer. End image ID.]

Photo 4

[Image ID: The first pin is another bust of Ahsoka... lol can you tell I love her?? With this pin, it’s just her lower back and up; she’s looking back over her right shoulder at the viewer, in the pose from that one scene in season 7 when she contacts Anakin. The pin is all light and dark blue, striped with pale white-blue like how the holograms in Star Wars look. You can’t tell from the picture, but the pin glows pale green in the dark. The second pin is a waist-up design of the droids Threepio on the left and Artoo on the right. It’s all gold plating, and Threepio is very shiny gold. He is resting his right hand on top of Artoo’s head. In the background is a jagged slice of space - black enamel with red, white, and blue dots of varying sizes to represent stars. End image ID.]

Photo 5

[Image ID: Large pin of Jedi Master Plo Koon. It’s about 4 inches tall. The design is him from the waist up, clad in his dark brown Jedi robe with the hood up, and wearing white clone armor vambraces and gauntlets, decorated with the 104th wolfpack symbol like he wore in the Clone Wars show. His right arm is stretched out and down, and he holds his blue lightsaber in a backwards grip, the blade extended up and behind him, extending past the left side of his head. His left arm is bent, his hand up near his face, and his fingers are extended, palm towards the viewer, as though he’s using the Force on you. End image ID.]

Photo 6

[Image ID: Pin 1 is a dark chrome enamel pin of Moff Gideon’s TIE fighter from The Mandalorian show. It’s sleek, dark gray and black. There is a metal loop on the bottom of the TIE fighter body, from which hangs a short dark metal chain; on the other end of the chain is another metal loop, attached to a tiny little Din Djarin pin. He is wearing his silver beskar armor, and one arm is reaching up above his head to hold onto the chain. His cape flares out behind him to the left, and his legs and other arm dangle down.

Pin 2 is a Jedi holocron, all gold plating and turquoise-blue sandblasted enamel that glitters in sunlight. It is a two-point perspective of the holocron, meaning you can see both the left and right sides and the top of it.

Pin 3 is the first Death Star, with chrome plating and light gray enamel and screenprinting to show all the details of the surface. It is a pin-on-pin design, and the Death Star is the lower pin; the pin attached over top of it is the Millenium Falcon, flying away from the Death Star, trailing blue light (shown with blue translucent enamel) and being pursued by a tiny dark gray and black TIE fighter. Red and white blaster bolts streak in front of and behind the Falcon, as if the TIE fighter is shooting at it.

Pin 4 is Din Djarin in his silver beskar armor, shooting his flamethrower out of his vambrace (forearm armor). He is facing to the left, and his right arm is held straight out in front of him, with the screenprinted orange-and-yellow flame shooting out from behind his arm. It’s on a sliding attachment, so you can slide it back behind him or fully extend it along his arm. His left arm is bent and his hand is held up in a defensive posture, as though to shield his face. The design shows him from mid-thigh and up, and his dark grayish cape swirls around him. End image ID.]

Photo 7

[Image ID: This is a pin of Captain Keeli from the Clone Wars. It is square on the left, right, and bottom edges; the top edge slants up from the left to the right top corners, so the pin forms a trapezoid shape. The pin shows his helmet, which is white with a light maroon-red border around his black visor, and darker maroon designs curling around the upper sides of the head and across the cheeks of the helmet. The curling designs resemble ram’s horns. The background behind the helmet is an even deeper maroon color, with a pale maroon ram’s horn curling design in the upper right corner. The pin is secured on my maroon red waterproof REI backpack; the fabric is the same shade as the ram’s horn designs on Keeli’s helmet. End image ID.]

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sunflowersteves · 3 years

Text

sparkling eyes || d.d.

din djarin x reader

summary || “has anyone ever told you that your eyes sparkle in the sunlight?”

author’s note || this fic is for @lovelyavengers’s 500 writing challenge but you also recently hit 1000 and im so excited for you!! I hope you guys enjoy!!

warnings || none, fluff

Din wasn’t a jokester. He was a very serious and stubborn Mandalorian that grew in the immense void of silence. He was used to the very unfriendly atmosphere of the vast galaxy.

But then you came along with your bright smiles and amiable personality that shoved him off his feet. He hadn’t heard laughter and this much kindness since the faint memories of his parents. Still, though, he definitely didn’t understand your jokes and impeccable comedic timing.

Din would never ever admit it, though, but he loved your jokes. He loved the way your hand clung to your belly, and your back lurched over. He loved the way your laugh echoed through the once lonely depths of the Razor Crest. He loved the way your eyes crinkled and lit up the entire room.

He would normally sigh at the painfully ridiculous joke that was “how many Jawas does it take to screw in a light bulb?” or some kind of knock-knock joke. He’d roll his eyes underneath that helmet of his despite the increasingly bigger smile that rested upon his face.

His favorites were the complements you always shot towards him. It always made him flustered and filled his chest with warmth. No one in his life had ever given him the compliments that you had given him. Usually, it would be a “nice shot” towards an enemy.

Yours were always kind, warmhearted, and innocent. The way your eyes crinkled as you spoke and your eyes gleaming with mischief had his chest swarm with emotion. Most of the time, he wanted you to keep telling jokes.

“Is it hot in here?”

“we’re on a desert plan-”

“or is it just you?” While you were laughing on the floor that you got him in that joke, Din couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt his whole body freeze and the heat rise immediately in his suit. He wanted to walk away completely from the embarrassment of his emotions, but the way it made him feel had him practically begging for more. It surprised him, to say the least.

Another time you had completely caught him off guard was a busy night in a cantina. The whole place was in a dark setting, and the two of you had been tucked away in the corner. It was just what Din liked: you, him, and the kid far away from plain sight.

So, when you had uttered the words under your breath as you stared into his eyes, he choked on thin air. He could barely hear what you said, but his helmet still caught the faint tenderness of your voice.

“I must be in a museum because you truly are a work of art.” If he had any Spotchka in his mouth, then it would’ve been spit out immediately. He was frozen in place, and at first, you didn’t think he heard you. But then he let out a shaky breath, which you thought wasn’t a good sign.

“I’m sorry, I-” Your sentence was interrupted by the quick force of his hand. From across the table, he grabbed your hand into yours and linked them together as one.

You were the one speechless this time, only being able to stare at your adjoined fingers. Then you heard a whisper come from his helmet, small and vulnerable. The two of you just sat in the cantina just like that, and the kid would make a sound while playing with his soup.

This time, he was polishing his pulse blaster when he noticed your stare. The two of you had gotten into a nasty fight with some imps. They had gotten a hold of Grogu, and the two of you fought them mercilessly. He could see the small gash on your face, and he no doubt looked exhausted.

However, he tried to not let your wandering eyes get to him, but he couldn’t help it. Nerves bubbled up in his stomach at the thought of your admiration.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes sparkle in the sunlight?”

He was quiet at first, and the confusion never settled in his stomach. You can’t see his eyes. He didn’t understand this one.

“You can’t see them.” He stared at you, deadpan, as the silence echoed through the ship.

“Yeah, that’s the point.” You were twirling patterns on Grogu’s little head, your smile never ceasing.

“Listen-”

“Yes.”

“I can’t see your eyes, correct?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, when I flirted with you-”

“Flirted with me?”

“Saying that your eyes sparkle in the moonlight-”

“Yes, I remember.”

“It’s because I can’t see your eyes which makes it funny.”

Finally, he paused. A hand was rested on his chin as if he was in deep thought. Then, he sighed.

“I don’t get it.”

You just laughed. “Oh for kriff’s sake. you’re lucky I’m in love with you, mando.”

His whole body froze at your words, mouth open wide, and his voice stuttering a whole mess.

“Hold on- wait. In love? With me?” All you did was smile and make some excuse to make dinner for the kid—since he’s always hungry.

“Wait, come back! You can’t just leave me here to not say it back!” He tried to scurry after you, but the weight of his armor was pulling him down.

You just waved at him from across the ship, “Sorry, Din, I’m already gone! Can’t talk now!”

He shook his head, laughter bubbling up into his chest. He hadn't felt this happy in a very long time.

“I love you too, cyar’ika.”

mando: @marvelous-capsicle @mudhornchronicles @cutebubblylmp @3strogen @doozywoozy @met4no1a @writingletterstothefire @t3a-bag @hunters-heathen @jenrebloggingfics @hallway5 @talesfromtheguild @liviiii98 @sparksforkoo @rynabarnesrogers-reading @moonlight-prose

star wars: @marvelous-capsicle @fandomsandxfiles @mudhornchronicles @cutebubblylmp @3strogen @met4no1a @writingletterstothefire @t3a-bag @hunters-heathen @jenrebloggingfics @hallway5 @talesfromtheguild @undeniableadrenaline @liviiii98 @sparksforkoo @rynabarnesrogers-reading

permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27 @hereforthesunrise @lxdyred @ironbabey @spiitfiires @secretsidereblog @milk-of-poppies @freeshavocadoooo @whizzbeesdukes

#tori's500challenge #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #female reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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eringurumi · 4 years

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Baby Yoda Pattern

Look out friends I know there are so many crochet Baby Yodas out there, and plenty of crochet Baby Yoda patterns, but I’m about to add mine to the mix! As always, if anyone uses this pattern, please link back to my page, and tag me or send me a picture! I’ll always reblog! Like the rest of you, I’m obsessed with this little sweetie and want to see as many as humanly possible! Or tag me on insta @ erin.gurumi

EDIT: PDF version here thanks to @romeo-wherefore-art-thou

EDIT 2: PATTERN FOR MANDO!

From what I can tell, my pattern is one of the smallest designs out there. So, while lacking in detail (I love the tiny hands and facial features people are able to make!), the trade off is, look how SMOL he sits in my hand! Make a dozen of them! Fill a candy dish with them! Put one in the manger of your Nativity scene!

So, the secret to a tiny Yoda is, in part, using tiny yarn. I had this perfect ball of light green yarn in my stash and I have no idea what it is or where I got it (possibly inherited from my grandma?), but you can see it here compared to the Red Heart Super Saver “Buff Fleck” yarn I used for his coat. Also, for his head and ears, I used a 2.5mm crochet hook, while for the body I used a 3mm crochet hook. I think it makes a difference! I’m vaguely curious if this pattern could scale up, maybe with worsted weight for the head and a chunky yarn for the body?

^ Head:

To make sure his head has a more oval shape, I didn’t do multiple rows of the widest diameter (counter-intuitively, to crochet a sphere, you need multiple rows of the widest diameter, it’s just some property of how the yarn stretches!)

6 sc in a magic circle

inc 6x to make 12 stitches

(1 sc, inc) 6x to make 18 stitches

(2 sc, inc) 6x to make 24 stitches

(2 sc, dec) 6x to make 18 stitches

Add 6 mm eyes between last two row, stuff

(1 sc, dec) 6x to make 12 stitches

dec until closed off

^ Ears:

This is a challenging one since you are working with such few stitches. When making a narrow cone like this, I find it helps to stick my hook into the cup and press it out, to make a more sharp point and better expose the stitches I need to work with.

3 sc in a magic circle

inc 1 to make 4 stitches

(sc, inc) 2x to make 6 stitches

2 rows of 6 sc

flatten ears and sew shut

Sew the ears to each side of the head, making sure they stick out mostly horizontally. Having them too high on the head really changes the silhouette and makes him look less Yoda-like!

^ Coat:

As you can see, I was actually experimenting on his little potato sack at the same time I was working on the head, because I wanted them to have good proportions to each other. I ultimately went with a slightly larger size than you see here. I know in amigurumi often the head is much much bigger than the body, but here I wanted him to still look a bit like he was swimming in his cute little sack.

foundation single crochet 14

connect the ends in a loop

sc 14

sc 13 (decrease once in back)

sc 12 (decrease once in back)

tie off leaving a long end

^ Collar:

This is such a crazy important piece of his costume! I wanted him to look cozy and snug but not TOO tightly wrapped up. I didn’t get a good picture of the collar pre-attached, but it really is so simple:

chain 14, turn, chain 2

double crochet in second chain, then 13 double crochets across

I would recommend experimenting with the number of stitches though, depending on how tight they are - you want it to be able to wrap around the neck of the coat with a little left over to form the overlap. To attach the collar, I carefully sewed it AROUND THE OUTSIDE of the main body of the cloak, NOT directly to the top of the coat, as then you can’t attach his head!

Here’s the two coat/collar combos I experimented with, which was possible since I attached the collar before I attached the head. I don’t think that’s strictly necessary, as it does make sewing on the head harder because you have to reach down through the collar (making sure the head attached to the coat, not the collar!). But it is doable! (The smaller body had 12 stitches in diameter at the base of the coat, and the smaller collar and half double crochets - I just think it looked more squished and messy.)

As for stuffing his body - I kinda didn’t! there were enough loose ends of the various yarns that basically tucking them in provided enough structure - he doesn’t have any feet (it would be easy to make some though, if you wanted), but he actually stands up great like this!

I mean, he stands up great, but don’t think that means he doesn’t also love to be picked up and held! This is a better view of the back of his collar, which comes up so cute and snug around his ears!

That’s it for Baby Yoda! Good luck and please feel free to ask if you have any questions! If you make a little guy, pleeese share a pic with me! I can’t get enough of him! And, if there is some interest in the pattern for Best Space Dad the Mandalorian, I may write that up later! They are so cute with each other!!

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grunkhilde · 2 years

Text

Making Mandos Here

I just wanted to put the nite owl helmets on boba’s body and put his on sabine’s body in blender to make the helmets more gender neutral by god things have spiraled out of control

So far I have three main body types of mandalorian.

Good old Jango

The effervescent Boba Fett

And the incomparable Din Djarin

We also have two sub types, and what what means will become clearer later.

The ever rebellious Sabine Wren

And a nondestinct deathwatch member

Five little funky guys to choose from for your mando character to choose from as a base to custom paintjob with the ability to swap helmets between them, nothing life changing.

Wrong. Incorrect. Very lifechanging. You’ll never be able to go back to the way you used to live in a moment.

You see, there’s Jango classic, sure, strapping gentleman, great guy.

Here’s the kicker though. What if he was slightly less strapping. Slightly more robust in other regards? A petit fellow mayhaps. Or rather, if your very own custom mando was, whether they just be a twink or a less than busty cis girl or an enby or a binary trans girl/boy or whatever else you or your minecraft girlfriend you’re forcing to rp star wars with you wishes their character to be.

If overtly thicc isn’t your cup of tea we also have Strapping Again But This Time With A Bigger Chest Area. Not quite mortifying anime boob plate its still a piece of armor and made to bounce lasers off of not direct them directly into your sternum, just a tad roomier if your mando is a wider framed dude and or dudette and or none of the above pre or post any sci fi tech ops. Though given Dying Of Sadness is apparently a thing medical droids aren’t good enough to deal with in the case of Padme maybe don’t go to the Sheev Palpatine Surgical Reconstruction Center they’re a solid two out of three on space yelp.

And naturally you can’t have those two options without combing the two if your mando is stacked all around and proud.

Recall what I said about the three main body types here. That’s right. That means all four of those funney body types are available for those three main bases. Twelve options right there babbey.

All the slim thicc bobas your heart could desire are at your fingertips here babes.

All the booba fetts.

All the furry vent comic lil thiccie fetts.

All the dins.

Every last one.

Yep.

I don’t have quips for everything.

As for those two other sub types I mentioned, Sabine and the claymation show sumbitch. Wharl, they’re already kind of skinny and I didn’t feel like making them broader shouldered. I could be bribed to feel like doing it, probably, but for now your options for either party are just basic breast reductions so like I’m sorry to say it but you’ve been government assigned as lightweights Sabine stans. Still four options for the sub types not bad.

Compared to

The claymation ones were from a web browser mmo originally don’t expect a ton here alright.

Wizard101 looking son of a bitch.

If you noticed a different there no you didn’t. Those legs were always bent slightly like that. Shut up.

Now, for where this all started. Helmets. You want a night owl helmet, regardless of gender, I’m your man.

You want dinn’s little funney crest helmet? Deal.

You want El Classico on a base that usually has a different helmet? Deal motherfucker.

That was a boba helmet too not a rink a dink jango swap. No little head dent. No marilyn monroe mole. Is the average recolorer offering that? Hell no brother.

You Want Chopa’a? Fucking Chopa’a? Chopa’a The Crime Lord From The Cloud City Level Of The Force Unleashed But Only The Force Unleashed Released For The Wii And Playstation 2 Specifically? You Are A Pervert. And We Will Have A Summer Wedding.

That one concept art helmet? Yeah you know the one. They were recycled as Chopa’a’s bodyguards before the claymation series had it as a disguise for Obi Wan. You would have already known that if you were invited to the summer wedding.

We got the darth maul helmets from the claymation series. Those were kinda cool yeah. Yeah.

We got the other claymation guy’s too. You know the guy. Like his second helmet. His first helmet was just el classico. But really long in the face. Because I guess how that’s how the claymation guys decided to stylize them.

And the other concept art one. You know the other concept art one. From the other claymation series.

Here’s a claymation two exclusive though from when in like the future when they have Y helmets instead of Ts for some reason and the double antennas. I think the comics did that earlier in like the EU. With the one black and gold guy. From the google result screencaps. You know the guy.

And a second claymation two one for like the fighter pilot boys. I’m still upset I didn’t find a version of there from any official games. That line is one pixel the textures are just low res as shit. Cause browser mmo.

And, as a treat for you good children, one from the old EU Jango backstory comics where the death watch idea first started.

That’s 16 body types times. Times 11 helmet types. Or maybe ten because they all have one by default so that like doesn’t count as another. We’ll say its ten because clearly I am lacking at math. That’s 160 variations baby. Which according to claymation logic where the helmets are gender locked even though mando’a is a gender neutral language to segment the market into girl and boy toys I guess, that’s 160 genders right there I just invented. But wait, there’s more.

If you want jetpacks then by god do I have entirely too many jetpacks. Like this scuffy claymation bastard.

Or this really swag Chopa’a guard pack. From the force unleashed. For the ps2 specifically.

This is a rare snacks holding jetpack actually so shut up actually.

Good old rising phoenix. The e should be before the o in phoenix if you ask me. Which you did.

The incomparable Jango’s.

And Boba’s absolute stud of a jetpack.

Well that’s enough variation for one day, 160 times 6 times the limitless boundaries of your imagination. Wrong. Soak this absolute swag in.

Peep this utter swaggery and weep.

Republic Commandos babbey. Another ps2 classic.

Let’s go Fetts babbey love the Fetts

The little things the clones have? The data pads? Wrong. I have them now. To give to you. On your mandos.

We can get weeby.

We got twi leks here babbey.

Maybe some of the little grievous side head fins. If you’re in fact nastay.

These montrails are kind of rough not about to lie. Not finished editing them. But they’re on the table.

You may have noticed the Chopa’a friendly versions. For the ps2. A mere fraction of my repainting abilities.

Oh that’s right, silly me, I also have Every Gun. Ever. If you see one that isn’t here you didn’t and also it’s fake. So don’t ask for it.

Except for this one, specifically.

And I can do this. Because of republic commandos again. Because of the playstation 2. Again.

And also every lightsaber.

I didn’t feel like opening them though. Also don’t ask me about animations I hate unity more than I hate life itself it is just there to get the avatars from blender to vr chat.

Speaking of which, of the possible millions of combos you can slap together and then get your own paintjob for, I stuck 57 into vrchat for Freeeeeeee. Because my meat is fucking huge and also never bother me because I am so so strong and handsome and generous. https://vrchat.com/home/world/wrld_9c6cc74c-334a-4193-91a0-511466817ab3

Dozens. Free. In game now. Mostly bug tested. If not who cares you didn’t pay for them. If you would to like to pay for Lets Talk Business Babbey.

https://discord.gg/DvTJcgCMSa

I also have sexy anime boy adopts don’t you fucking judge me I need to supplement my income.

#vrchat avatar #star wars #the mandalorian #boba fett #lgbt #mandosona #sabine ren #trans #nonbinary #jango fett #vr chat roleplay #gender nonconforming #gnc #mando #long post

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moon-ursidae · 2 years

Text

TBOBF FINALE SPOILERS

-HERE WE FUCKIN GO LADS

-i think i’m gonna shit my pants i’m so hype

-oh shit the aftermath

-WHERE IS MAX REBO

-AND GARSA?????

-HEYYYYYY DIN DJARINNNNNNNN

-ope financial disputes

-“when he arrives…” girl IF he arrives

-i’ll laugh so hard if they just fuckin shrug and walk out

-CAD BANE CAD BANE CAD BANE

-BSBSKABSKABAKSBKABSKSBSK

-PYKES AND THE MAYOR????? AYO???

-WHAT THE FUCK

-how the fuck do they know they’re gonna be in the sanctuary ruins

-“in the name of honor” i’m scared

-aHskansksbksnskd XWING

-LUKE BACK ON TATOOINE???? IN MOS EISLEY????

-KABSKAVAKSBSKSBKABSKSBS

-WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

-PELIIIIIIIII YEA

-GROGUUUUUUUUUUU

-AHHHHHHHHHHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHA

-wait what the fuck where is luke

-OHHHHH R2 took him there i’m dumb

-HE CHOSE MANDO FUCK YEAAAAAA

-or did he??? what the fuck am i saying of course he did

-SHE SAID IT SHE SAID GROGU

-HE DID CHOOSE MANDOOOOOOO

-YENSBDBDBHDJBDB I’M SCREECHING

-“baby’s gotta eat” DAMN RIGHT

- peli knows the way to grogu’s heart

-DIN IS GONNA BE SO HAPPY

-fennec is so hot

-both of em w the leg up? HOT AND SEXY

-i’m still not over these speeders

-QUICK REFLEXES HOT

-OKDBDHHDHDBBXHXHX

-CADE AND BOBA FACE OFF?????

-my money is on fennec and din sorry but not really💅🏻

-oh shit he’s goin for the low blow w his tribe

-fennec knows shit’s gonna go down

-OH FUCK IS THIS GONNA HAPPEN??

-WAIT IS COBB ACTUALLY DEAD????

-yeaaaa fennec

-“we all do” i fuckin love that shit he accepts it bc it’s okay to be badass AND soft

-oh shit??

-IT’S A TRAP

-KRRSANTAN IS ON HIS OWN SOMEONE HELP HIM OUT PLEASE

- i have a bad feeling about this….

-NOT THE GAMORREANS

-YEA FENNEC SO HOT SO SEXY

-SOMEONE HELP KRRSANTAN PLEASE BRO

-FENNEC IS SO HOT DUDE

-i’m so scared ya’ll i want everyone to come out of this alive

-“i’m with you until we both fall” WITH THE MUSIC IN THE BACK AHHHHH

-“we’ll both die in the name of honor” DIN PLEASE SIR GROGU IS ON PLANET PLZ BE CAREFUL

-“this is the way” with the fuckin armorer hammer sound after it AHHHHHHHHHH the score is phenomenal

-“if i may offer an alternative” PFFFFF I’M WEAK

-he was really about to storm out there guns blazing

-this twi is gonna die as soon as he steps out

-oh shit

-YEAAAAAA BOBA

-AND DIN????

-JETPACK DUO HOLY FUCKKKKKK

-THIS IS SO SICK

-GUYS PLEASE GET BACK INSIDE

-FREETOWN PEEPS HELL YEAAAAA

-THE MUSIC IS SO GOOD

-IS COBB OKAY THO?

-IS HE ACTUALLY FUCKING DEAD?????

-omg wait you can see through the visor hehehe lil peek

-all the reinforcements comin in fuck yea

-KRRSANTAN IS OKAY FUCK YEAAAAAAAAA

-WAIT IS HE THOUGH????

-OMG PLEASE

-din and boba know this shit ain’t over

-WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE????

-this is some video game shit

-“we got reaall problems”

-HOLY FUCK THEY’RE LIKE THE DROIDS FROM THE PREQUELS…BUT SO MUCH FUCKIN BIGGER

-i’m scared this isn’t gonna go well

-like i know din is gonna be okay bc s3 but i’m still worried

-DARKSABER TIME BABYYYYYY YEAAAA

-this is the loudest i’ve heard din speak literally ever oh my god

-DIN PLEASE BE CAREFUL

-KRRSANTAN ALSO BE CAREFUL

-PELIIII PLEASE

-the way he literally fucking screamed for her to turn around he’s being so loud this ep i like it

-THE WAY HE JUMPED ON YEAAAAA

-OH MY GOD REUNION

-GROGU J U M P E D INTO HIS ARMS

-STOPPPPPP

-DIN IS SO HAPPY

-HE GOT SO SOFT SO FASTTTTTTT

-OH MY GOD

-PLEEAAASSSEEEEEE

-“you got the shirt.” JSBSHHDHHDHDHEJHEHS

-HE CAUGHT HIM MID AIRRR

-THE RANCORRRRRRRRRRRRR

-OH MY GOD YEAAAAAAAAAA

-THE FAN ART WAS TRUEEE

-HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS THE MOST EPIC SHIT I’VE EVER SEEN

-YEAAAAA DIN

-GROGU WHAT YOU DOIN DAWG

-GOGURT??

-YEAAAAAAA SAVE UR DAD AGAIN

-damn he’s hella smart

-“do it” IMMEDIATE FUCKING CARNAGE

-OH MY GOD

-THIS IS LIKE THE MOST EPIC SEQUENCE OF STAR WARS I’VE EVER WITNESSED

-i would very much like to see drash and jo together more

-PLEASE DON’T KILL THE RANCOR I WILL BE SO UPSET

-THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING CARNAGE THAT IS THIS EPISODE IS FUCKING INSANE

-GODDAMN

-YEAAAAAA PELI

-WILHELM SCREAMMMMM

-he cheemp he chomp

-oh shit cad bane

-PLEASE DON’T HURT THE RANCOR

-oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

-quit hittin his soft spot my guy

-cade bane is always lookin to duel someone

-YEAAAAAAAAAA USIN TUSKEN WEAPONS AGAINST HIM HAHAHA

-DID HE JUST FUCKIN KILL CAD BANE??

-oh shit boba COME GET YO FUCKIN DOG BRUH

-damn this king kong reboot looks great

-THE BALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

-OH MY GOD DIN?????

-“your old man’s crafty” INDEED HE IS

-HELMET??? COMIN OFF???

-DIN GET UP

-IT’S LIKE THE MUDHORN ALL OVER AGAIN OH MY GOD

-EVEN THE SAME SCORE PLAYING AHHHH

-FUCK YEA GROGU LET’S GO

-they grow up so fast🥺

-naptime

-HE SNUGGLED IN TOWARD THE RANCOR🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

-fennec is about to wreck ass

-DUDE THE FUCKIN CARNAGE THIS EP??

-awwwwww wait this is so cute ppl actually see him as daimyo now

-the music is so cute

-THE MEILOORUN FRUIT

-YEAA THE MANDO MUSIC MIXED IN

-CHILLS

-wait so are they alluding that din is gonna help run tatooine? they played his music after she said that?? and that happened at the end of ep4 👀

-PLEASE TELL ME HE’S IN THE GODDAMN DROID PORT

-YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

-OMG THE TAPPING ON THE GLASS I CAN’T

-“no.” *tap tap* “nuh huh” *more angry tapping* “no.” *even more angry tapping* “alright”

-literally father and son this is fantastic

-THEN HITTING THE THRUSTERS

- OH MY GOOOODDDDDDDDD

-POST CREDS HERE WE GO

-I FUCKIN KNEW HE WAS ALIVVEEEEEE YEAAAA BABY

-THUNDERCATTTTTTTT AHHH

HOLY FUCKING SHIT YA’LL. that was fucking insane. incredible. holy fucking shit. i’m gonna need like 6 months to recover from that. goddamn. so epic. so much happened. fuckin hell. i HAVE to rewatch that later. jesus christ. what a time to be alive, and a star wars fan. JESUS CHRIST. what the fuck do i do now????

#tbobf spoilers #the book of boba fett spoilers #tbobf #the book of boba fett #holy fucking shit #holy hell #what the fuck #brain no work anymore #that was so epic #and so hot #and sexy #jesus fucking christ

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clonewarslover55 · 3 years

Text

Sev’s first time being pegged //NSFW//

Sev X Fem!Reader

I’m planning on writing all of the Delta’s first times being pegged!! So stay tuned!

Notes: My friend @kyzyner and I had a wonderful idea!! They drew this since I wrote it!! Seeing Sev getting dominated gave me some wonderful inspiration lol. Here’s the sexy art they drew, I based the fic off of this pose.

Warnings: anal fingering, eating out Sev’s ass, slightly submissive Sev, slightly dominate reader, first time at getting pegged, pegging, Sev being stubborn, some fluffy aftercare, Sev growls like a wild animal btw, this is long like Sev’s cock, reblog or I’ll cry,

Sev had just gotten home from a long mission, and he was currently in the shower. You decided to surprise him, so you two could shower together. You were more than surprised when you opened the curtain.

Sev had his forehead resting against the shower wall, one hand wrapped tight around his cock and the other knuckle deep in his tight hole. The sight made your cunt clench tightly, wetness coating your folds quickly.

“Need some help big guy?” You spoke, your voice sensual. Sev looked at you, too focused on pleasure to be embarrassed. He let go of his cock to steady himself under the shower spray, “Yes.” He whispered, a predatory look in his dark eyes.

You stepped in behind him, your cunt fluttering at the sight of him removing two fingers from his hole. Sev steadied himself on the wall with both hands now. You grabbed the bottle of lube, quickly spreading some on your fingers.

Sev gasped when you pushed a finger in, his walls tight. “Why didn’t you tell me you were into this?” You nearly purred, pressing hot open mouthed kisses along his scarred shoulders. It was rare for Sev to be so submissive, but he was clearly too tired and horny to care who was in charge.

“I-I” He couldn’t even get the words out, your finger thrusting into him slowly. You added another, Sev taking you perfectly. He had clearly fucked himself a few times in the past. He moaned loudly, his jaw clenched. You hummed a bit at his moans, your tongue tracing a scar on his right shoulder.

He never liked being vocal, but clearly with anal he was in too much pleasure to care. Sev moved a hand to his cock again, pumping it in time with your fingers. “Fuck.” He muttered as you scissored your fingers.

“You like this a lot, don’t you baby?” You leaned forward, licking the shell of his ear. Sev sneered a little, letting out a breathy growl. “Yes.” You smirked, “After I stretch your ass good and tight why don’t we try some pegging?” Sev clenched around your fingers, he obviously liked that idea.

You smirked and went back to marking up his shoulders. He had to move his hands away from his cock so he could balance on the wall with both hands. His thighs were very shaky, so he needed the extra balance. You leaned forward and turned off the shower, Sev not questioning it.

You picked up the pace with your fingers, dipping your head so you could kiss lower on his back. Suddenly you got an idea. How would Sev react to being eaten out? You smirked to yourself as you kneeled.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, his voice cracking slightly. “You’ll see. Just relax.” Sev had eaten you out multiple times, so he should connect the dots pretty soon.

A beautiful whimper you had never heard from him ripped from his throat when you removed your fingers. You ran your hands along his hip bones to his perfect ass, spreading his cheeks a little. Sev shivered at your touch, his hole fluttering.

Sev cussed in about four different languages when you ran your tongue along his hole. You smirked, your tongue tracing him slowly. Sev made fists against the wall, his breathing aggressive.

You couldn’t see the look on his handsome face, but his breathing and noises said enough. He had clearly never been eaten out before, flinching every now and then from pure surprise. You rested your hands on his muscular ass, squeezing it as your mouth worked.

Sev panted out your name, his head resting against the cool shower wall. His hole clenched around your tongue as he came hard, his legs shaking. You steadied him, small curse words leaving his lips. You stood up and hugged him from behind, reaching around to turn the shower back on.

Sev turned around, pulling you into a fierce kiss. Both of you knew this night would be long and very eventful.

~More fucking and some time later~

Now you were both on the bed, Sev below you on his back, his legs spread wide. You sat between his legs, mesmerized by how hot Sev looked like this. There was a pleased smirk on his face, his tongue licking his teeth like a predator.

He was all spread out, his body twitchy and his hair still wet. His muscular thighs twitched along with his strong stomach muscles. He was obviously sensitive and still worked up, his cock hard. The scars that littered his muscular body made you nearly drool. Later you’d have to trace them all with your tongue.

You stroked some scars on his thighs, “Sev baby you need to relax.” You whisper in a sensual voice. He was stretched out nicely from the shower, but he’d have to relax more to take the strap you owned. It wasn’t as big as his cock, so it wasn’t huge. He could take it.

If he relaxed, that is.

He sneered a little. He did not like being the submissive one. You put on the strap, Sev watching you. “Bright pink?” He cocked an eyebrow, his voice breathy. “Oh hush. If you like this i’ll buy you a red one to match your armor.” Sev smirked, leaning up some so you could press a kiss to his lips.

You pushed him back down after the kiss, your heart rate picking up a lot as well. Once you rubbed lube onto the toy you spread his thighs some more, one hand settling on his hip. You used the other to guide the head of the toy into him.

“Relax big guy.” You mumbled, slowly pushing in. Sev bared his teeth, the stretch burning a little. He snarled, the toy not even halfway in. “I’ll touch your big cock once you take all of this.” Sev growled at you. He played the same teasing games with you. You could be just as cruel as him.

It took a lot of cussing from him, but eventually he took all of it. You looked at the stretch, your cunt clenching. Fuck it was hot. You wrapped your free hand around his thick cock, pumping it slowly in time with your thrusts.

Sev threw his head back, his thighs quaking. Sev opened his eyes that were squeezed shut, looking at you with that sexy predatory look again. You smirked, picking up the pace some. His jaw was clenched tightly, watching as you fucked into him.

He had never looked hotter than he did right then, his arms behind his head. His left arm was supporting his head so he could watch you, his right gripping the bed sheets in a tight fist above his head. His muscles bulged as his body strained, his scars pulled taut along his dark skin. His cock was hard against his stomach, the head leaking some. His ass was stretched, taking the bright pink toy like a champ. You could nearly cum from the sight alone.

You gripped his hip tighter so you could hit deeper into him. When you to first had sex it didn’t take Sev long to find that special spot deep inside of you. You wanted to do the same for him. You angled your hips a different way, watching his handsome face and sexy body for reactions.

He nearly cried out at a certain angle, you had found it! You smirked at him, Sev still looking at you like a predator. He was going to teach you a lesson about not letting him be in charge later, the thought making you even wetter.

You moved quicker, Sev’s cock twitching in your hand. He was approaching his peak rather quickly, still sensitive from earlier. “That’s it big guy.” You ran the pad of your thumb along his sensitive head, a loud moan ripping from his throat.

A few more hard and deep thrusts brought him to his peak. He bit his fist to keep from crying out. He coated his stomach and chest in his load, the sight making you shiver. You helped him ride out his orgasm, only stopping when he let out a soft whimper from overstimulation.

You pulled out, removing the strap on from yourself. You went to get up but Sev stopped you with a hand on your arm. He sat up, blinking rapidly. He was clearly seeing stars from his amazing orgasm.

“I’ll get the damp rag.” You snorted, “Sev honey, you need to lay down and relax. Your legs probably won’t work.” He shook his head, “No no….I’m fine.” You raised your eyebrows, watching the stubborn commando stand up.

He gripped the bed to support his shaking legs, “S-see?” You shook your head, letting him take the toy to the bathroom so you could clean it later. He walked slowly, his legs making him look like a newborn animal trying to walk.

He came back a bit later, handing you the damp and warm towel. “Stubborn ass.” Sev only yawned in reply, collapsing onto the bed. He laid against the pillows, watching you shake your head smiling.

You cleaned the cum off of him, his cock twitching when you cleaned it up. When you gently cleaned his hole he whined, flinching a little. “Easy...I got you, big guy.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to a scar on his stomach.

“I’m going to get you back for this.” He mumbled drowsily. You tossed the rag off the bed and crawled up beside him. “And I can’t wait.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, Sev already half asleep.

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @ollovaemisc @cherry-cokes-world @iamassbuttkingofhell @catsnkooks @mxndalorians @colorfulloverbatturkey @ahsokatano-thetogruta @peacefulwizardfox @jedi-mando @julyzaa @strangebroadwaykinks @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @jedi-nila-rhyn @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @commanderrivercc-3628 @ct7567329 @thealluringsink

#delta squad #sev #Sev x reader #sev x fem!reader #walon vau’s boys #boss #scorch #fixer #Republic Commando #walon vau #republic commando novels #republic commando game #republic commandos #repcom #repcomm #repcomm novels #repcomm game

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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Mando Games

Link to Chpt. 6, Link to Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, Flirty!Din, Jealous!Reader, swearing, kissing, fingering, helmet stays on, explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), canonical violence

Word count: 12.5K (another long one for you because I don’t know how to edit enough)

Author’s Note: We’re still on Angel One because I wasn’t done playing there. If you’re interested in the setting, I’ve based the historic part of the city on Toledo, Spain. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When you awake the next morning, it feels like you have had the best sleep of your life, despite spending so much of the night making love with Din. You feel utterly blissed out and although some of your muscles ache, it’s the most delicious feeling. You feel him stirring next to you, and you remind yourself that you have to wait to take off the sleep mask until you know it’s safe.

“Go-od morning, cyar’ika,” Din says through a yawn, “Gimme a minute to get the helmet.”

“Of course,” you reply stretching out in the bed, and as you do, your stomach lets out a loud growl. You’re embarrassed, especially as you hear Din laughing softly.

“Did you work up an appetite?” he asks, “I know I’m starving after all that activity.”

You blindly throw a pillow in the direction of his voice and he just laughs harder.

“Careful, my dear, you might break something,” he admonishes you playfully. You hear his footsteps come closer to you and something fluffy lands in your hands.

“You can take the mask off now,” Din says, his voice sounding modulated again and you know he has the helmet back on. You slide the satin mask off your head and store it safely in the nightstand and you see that he’s brought you one of the robes to wear. You’re just slipping it on when you hear a knock at the door. You’re getting ready to hop out of bed and answer it, when Din tells you,

“I’ll get it; no one else needs to see you like this but me.” He’s only half dressed in his trousers himself, but he throws on the other robe to answer the door.

His comment about your appearance makes you curious, so you get out of bed anyway but head to the large bathroom instead. In the mirror, you see a woman who looks well loved. Your hair is mussed, your lips are slightly swollen, and there are several marks, Din’s love bites, on your neck and chest. You smile back at your reflection and think you’ve never looked better.

You hear the door close and so you head back out to see what that was all about and find Din in the sitting room area with a large cart laden with breakfast foods. Mistress Sigrid may be a bit much, but at least she’s a great hostess. You immediately dig in to the delicious spread as Din chuckles at your eagerness. You make a plate, flop down on the sofa, and turn yourself so you’re facing away from him.

“Go ahead and eat, Din, I know you’re hungry too,” you say, “I promise I won’t look.”

“I know, I trust you,” he says and you hear him get his own breakfast too.

You enjoy your food and the time spent chatting with Din about various other things last night. Turns out, he got a lot more information about the Jubilee from the men.

“Today there’s a sort of bazaar with arts and crafts and cultural demonstrations,” he’s telling you, “Trent promised to show us all the best booths.”

“That was nice of him,” you say.

“And there’s a big set up for this competition that they have amongst the women. Today they announce the challengers and then tomorrow the contest begins,” Din explains.

“I bet it will be entertaining to watch, the women here seem so skilled, it will probably be some type of combat contest or at least something athletic,” you speculate.

“There’s also an interesting prize system for it,” he lets of a huff of laughter, “Apparently the women get to choose the man they want for the night based on the order that they finish - so it’s a prime time for a woman to steal a guy she’s had her eye on.”

“What? That sounds so sexist, I mean towards men, which I know sounds weird, but, ew.” The idea just seems wrong to you, but then you think about how you’re only seeing this from your perspective and say, “But, I know I shouldn’t be judging their culture by my norms, and if this is what works for them, then so be it.”

“It seems odd to me too,” Din says, “But the men last night were pretty excited about it, it’s a pretty big honor to be selected by the winner for them.”

“Well at least we’ll just get to be spectators,” you say.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Once you’re ready for the day, you head back to the nursery to collect the child. He’s very excited to see you both and toddles over to you as quickly as his tiny legs will carry him. He’s clearly had a great time and is wearing a flower crown and a new beaded necklace.

“Hi buddy, look at you! I love your new accessories!” You say scooping him up. He leans in for a hug and then makes grabby hands towards Din. You hand him over, as Gregor is coming up to you with a little bundle.

“Your little one was such a dear and he played so well with the other children,” he tells you, “And he had a great time with arts and crafts, he’s just a little natural.”

You open up the bundle to find two more beaded necklaces, one in pinks and reds and the other in blues and greens.

“These are so pretty, buddy, did you make them?” you ask the child who is cooing happily at you. “Let me guess, is the pink one for me?” He coos and giggles and you drape the necklace over your head.

“And is the blue one mine, kiddo?” Din asks and again the child makes a happy sound and you help Din put on his new necklace.

“What a beautiful family!” Gregor gushes, “Let me get a holo of the three of you.” Dutifully, you pose for a few holos including a few that Gregor snaps with your holopad too.

As your little party makes its way out of the state residence to head to the bazaar, you find Trent with a group of his friends in the foyer. They are all dressed to impressed and are also sporting flower crowns today.

“Oh Princess and Mando, hi!” Trent greets you enthusiastically, and then with a cheeky grin, “Someone had a wonderful night last night, didn’t they? I noticed you two sneaking off in the middle of the show.”

You feel a touch embarrassed but Trent’s happy grin makes you giggle in spite of yourself and you just say, “Oh, I’d never kiss and tell.”

This seems to delight all of Trent’s friends and they giggle right along with you, and you notice a couple of them checking out Din’s marks on your neck that are still very visible. They exchange knowing glances and you give them a wink.

“See, I told you she was charming,” Trent says and then proceeds to introduce you to his friends. The men greet Din enthusiastically too, most of them having met him last night.

“Oh, but Mando, you don’t have a flower crown,” one of the men, Chad, says with a note of disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry there’s always some nice ones you can buy at the bazaar,” another man says.

With that, you all head out to explore and enjoy the day. It’s a beautifully sunny day with a nice light breeze and the scent of flowers and delicious food wafting through the air. You can hear festive music playing and the sound of many happy people already out and about enjoying their holiday. This part of the city is a historic district with many very old stone buildings close together and narrow cobblestone streets that wind through the buildings before ending in large plazas. Large red banners adorned with various symbols hang off most every window and balcony that you pass, and beautiful floral garlands are draped across the streets between the buildings. Each of the plazas are ringed with vendor booths and each plaza appears to adhere to a particular theme for the wares. Trent directs you to the floral plaza and a stand with many flower crowns. You’ve never seen such beautiful flowers and in such a variety of pretty colors.

“They look really nice, I’d love a flower crown too,” you say a touch wistfully, and the men dissolve into laughter at the idea. You look around and realize, “Oh, wait, they’re just for men, aren’t they?”

Din steps up to look at the crowns more carefully. You can’t imagine he’ll really buy one for himself, but then he asks you, “Which ones do you like?”

You let your fingers touch the soft petals of a particularly beautiful one with red and yellow flowers that catches your eye, “I like this one best,” you say.

“And what’s second best?” Din asks, and you look a touch surprised, but maybe he doesn’t care for the red and yellow? You look through the others and land on another lovely crown of purple and white blooms.

“This one is also lovely,” you say softly.

“We’ll take these two,” Din says to the vendor, handing him a small handful of credits. He then picks up the red and yellow crown and gently places it on your head, enjoying the look of surprise on your face, before plopping the purple crown on top of his helmet.

“You’re a princess, you should have a crown if you want it,” Din tells you.

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him.

“It actually looks really pretty on you,” Trent says, “Who knows, maybe it could be a new trend?”

You continue to explore the bazaar and eventually you meet up with several of the mistresses that you met the night before. They eye your flower crown with a snicker, but you figure they were already laughing at you anyway so why should you care. The only one who doesn’t do this is Eira, who politely tells you that it looks nice, and you decide she’s your favorite out of all the women you’ve met here. Eira introduces you to her lover, Bradley, who is a quieter man than Trent and his friends, but very nice. They invite you and Din to join them for a drink at one of the tavern booths, and the four of you fall into a comfortable conversation.

After a bit, Eira tells you that it’s time to head to the main plaza because the day’s program is scheduled to begin soon. Arriving at the plaza, you see a stage and several grandstands set up around it. Most of the stands are already full, but Eira leads you to seats in one of the front rows that have been reserved.

Mistress Sigrid walks out onto the stage to a podium that has been set up as a band plays a triumphant march. As the music swells, people stand and cheer. When the music ends, Sigrid welcomes you all,

“Hello, I hope you are all having a wonderful Jubilee of Astrid!”

“May she bless us!” the crowd replies enthusiastically.

“Please be seated as we begin our ceremonies,” she says.

What follows are a series of speeches about the importance of the holiday, the blessings of Astrid, and the prosperity that she is sure to bring each family. You’re only half listening and instead you let your mind wander to what it must be like to live in a place like this where you know you will celebrate together each year, a place where a family can spend a peaceful day together having fun. You look over at Din holding the child who is playing with the beads of Din’s necklace and you feel a pang of sadness in your heart. What would it be like if you could settle somewhere and have a real home, make friends, and spend time each day in plazas like this one? You know you’re letting your emotions get the best of you. After all, you haven’t even been together with Din for that long, so why are you picturing such a future already? Still though, now the image is in your mind.

“And of course, now we get to the main event,” Sigrid is saying, and you snap your attention back to her, “It’s time to announce the competition and challengers for Astrid’s Battle.”

“This year’s competition will consist of three rounds,” she announces, “In round one we have a test of agility, in round two, a challenge of intelligence, and then in round three, the show of strength. As each of our competitors finish a round, they will earn points based on the quality and speed in which they completed the tasks. Remember this means that even if someone doesn’t win any of the rounds, she could still end up the victor based on total points!”

The people around you cheer wildly and you do your best to applaud and look enthusiastic. Sigrid goes on to then introduce various women who come out on stage to receive cheers and take a bow. It isn’t until she gets to Mistress Lagertha when things unexpectedly take a nasty turn. Instead of coming out for just a bow, Lagertha heads to the podium.

“I am here to issue a special challenge, to our visiting princess.” Your head snaps up at her in alarm. “Your Highness, I dare you to compete for your Mando. If you should manage to place higher than me, then he’s yours, but if I out place you in the contest, he’s going home with me.”

You jump to your feet in utter shock at her audacity and you feel your body flood with anger. How dare she!

It is very quiet all of a sudden, as all eyes look to you. You try to reason with her at first, but your voice cannot hide your ire, “Mistress Lagertha, we are guests on your planet, and I regard this as highly unusual to request that I participate in this competition and that Mando be offered as a prize.”

“If you’re too scared to compete, then I’ll just take him now,” she smirks at you, openly mocking you in front of everyone.

You feel Din standing beside you, his body tense, and you know his fight mode is about to kick in, but that would be disastrous. You raise your head and give her the most intimidating glare you can muster, as you say, “Very well, I will accept on one condition, Mando is only a prize between you and me, no one else may compete for him.”

There is an immediate uproar at this and the crowd begins to gossip excitedly about this newest twist to the competition. Sigrid motions you to the stage, but before you can go, Din grabs your arm, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I think I do, unless we want more trouble,” you tell him and you make your way to the stage.

You are seething right now and you curse yourself for ever having thought of Lagertha as friendly. Your outrage makes you walk with intention and when you take the stage, you know you’re going to show these women that you might be smaller in stature than they are but you are still a powerful woman in your own right.

“Do we have an agreement?” you ask Lagertha your voice cold. It’s a tone you learned from your days with the Empire and from the way her eyes widen, you can tell it has an effect on Lagertha. She gives you a curt nod.

“I’ll need more of a guarantee, Mistress Sigrid, that no one else will compete for Mando.” You look at her with hard eyes, you may be wearing a flower crown, but the pretty, delicate princess is all gone.

“So you will join the competition? Compete for Mando’s affections?” Mistress Sigrid asks rather surprised.

“I will, but only if my stipulation is met,” you reply sharply.

“Very well, only yourself or Lagertha may claim Mando,” Sigrid confirms. She then turns to the crowd and announces you as the final competitor. You take a small bow like the others, but you keep your eyes trained on Din.

When you exit the stage both Din and Eira are there to meet you. Din takes you by the shoulder and brings you in close so he can speak directly in your ear,

“Are you certain you want to do this? We can just leave now, take our chances,” Din urges you.

“No one can find us here, this is the safest place for now,” you reason with him, “And if I need to play their game to help keep us here, then I will. No woman is just going to take you from me.” Din sees your eyes flash with that statement, and he feels humbled by the intensity of your affection for him. I don’t deserve her.

“I can help you prepare,” Eira is saying, “I’ve competed many times and honestly the competition doesn’t change much from year to year.”

“I would appreciate any help, Eira,” you reply, “And I can still beat Lagertha on total points, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Eira confirms, “Let’s go back to our house and we can talk strategy.”

Din, the child, and you follow Eira and Bradley back to their home as she tells you about her experiences with Astrid’s Battle.

“The first two rounds will be tomorrow. The agility challenge is always some type of obstacle race, the obstacles change from year to year, but generally you have to have decent balance, be able to climb, and be light on your feet,” she explains.

“Your smaller size may give you an advantage there,” Din says encouragingly, “And I’ve seen you carry a tray a food, the child, and several of his toys around the Crest with no problem, so balance should also be a skill for you.”

“My best shot at earning points though is going to be the intelligence test,” you say, “What does that usually consist of?”

“Typically, it’s some type of really hard puzzle or riddle,” Eira tells you, “It’s a real challenge, but I know that Lagertha isn’t good at riddles, so you do stand a good chance there.”

“That would be right in my skillset, so I’ll hope for the best there.” You feel much more confident that you can do well on that section and if you’re fast enough it might be enough to keep you competitive with Lagertha.

“The part that worries me the most is the strength competition,” Eira is saying, “Because that is almost always hand-to-hand combat. It’s on the following day because it’s usually done in tournament style.”

“I’ve given her some training, but if she could spar with you, that would be helpful to see the fighting style you use here,” Din suggests.

For the next couple hours, you spar and practice with Eira and Din in the grassy area behind Eira’s house. The two of them give you various pointers about how to best hold your own and use your smaller size to your advantage. It’s good that Din’s training has focused on that too, because it doesn’t feel too foreign to you. At the very least, you feel like you won’t make a complete fool out of yourself thanks to their advice. Bradley has kindly been watching the child the whole time as they sit on the sidelines and cheer you on. There was a tense moment at first when Eira kept mysteriously falling down as she went to attack you, but thankfully, Din realized what was happening and hurried over to lower the little green hand. Eira just figured she had slipped on something and didn’t get suspicious.

When you’re taking a break, you pull the little one close to you and whisper in his ear, “I appreciate the help, buddy, but save it for the real competition in case I really need it.” You give him a kiss and he makes his happy, snuffly baby sounds.

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Later that evening, you’re resting in your room back in the state residence. Din is insistent that you save all your energy for tomorrow, and while you know he’s right, you can’t help yourself from giving him suggestive looks anyway after the child is safely in his pram for the night.

“Cyar’ika, you’re supposed to be getting ready for bed,” he admonishes, “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re already a distraction,” you say playfully. Nevertheless, you know you could use more rest given that last night wasn’t exactly full of sleeping. So you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face for the night. You’re starting at yourself in the mirror again, but this time doubt starts to creep in as you consider how much stronger and bigger Lagertha is. You have no idea how she might do in the intelligence competition, either.

When you come back to the bedroom, you ask Din, “Do you think I have any chance tomorrow?”

“Of course I do,” he insists strongly, “If I didn’t I’d already have you and the kiddo in hyperspace.”

He’s direct, and you know he means it. Your face must still show your doubt though, because he comes over and pulls you into his arms.

“Cyar’ika, you are going to be great. These women underestimate you; they’re too wrapped up in their own ideas of superiority to see who you really are.”

“Who I really am?” you repeat to him, wondering how he sees you.

“A brave, intelligent woman who knows how to survive,” Din says sincerely, “And the only one who can win this Mando’s affections.”

You hug him tighter to you as he says that and then you lean up to place a kiss on his helmet where his mouth would be.

“Close your eyes,” Din says, and when you do, he pushes up the helmet so he can lean in and take your lips in his. His kiss is tender and loving, and when he pulls away, you feel content again.

“You can open your eyes now.”

“Thank you, Din,” you say softly.

“For kissing you?” he asks, a little amused.

“For believing in me.”

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You’re filled with anticipation and anxiety as you wait for your turn to begin the obstacle course in the agility portion of Astrid’s Battle. You’re thankful that Eira was able to brief you on this part because now it doesn’t seem quite so daunting. The course is set up with various sections where you must cross a narrow bridge or make your way over an unstable surface designed to test your balance. There are also several climbing walls to surmount, and a crawl through swampy, muddy area that you are not looking forward to completing. You have an advantage however, of being in the middle of the pack of competitors because you can watch the women who run the course before you and see how they attempt the obstacles. In some cases, there are two options for a path, and you’re quickly learning which path will be best for you. As each woman runs the course, two announcers provide a play-by-play of her progress and updates on the time. It seems like most women finish in around 15 minutes, but you can get time added to your clock as a penalty if you make a mistake on the course.

Suddenly it’s your turn to start and as you hear the buzzer sound, you jolt into action. As you’ve been watching the others, you pre-planned your route in your head and as you bound across the first obstacle, a net that makes you bounce as you run on it, you tell yourself to focus on the plan and to shut out any distractions. One thought keeps your legs pumping and your eyes sharp, she won’t take Din from me.

Din is sitting in the stands holding the child on his lap as he watches you compete. Maker, he’s not even in the competition but his heart is beating fast with nervous energy as he watches you on the course. He’s glad that Eira and Bradley are with him because these new friends seem just as invested in your success as he is. You’re doing really well on the balancing apparatuses, and each time you cross one, Din cheers out for you. But, you’re having less success with the climbing walls, as unfortunately with those, your shorter height gives you a disadvantage. You aren’t able to reach as far as the other women, so it takes you longer to get over each one. Still, each time you do, he’s so proud of you. You’re almost to the end of the course now and all that’s left is the muddy crawl. Din knows you’ll hate that part as one time the kid got himself and then you, covered in mud and it was clear you did not enjoy it. So when he sees you dive into the mud like it’s nothing, giving it your all, he feels honored that you’re trying so hard to win him. Of course, there’s no chance in hell he’s going to let Lagertha anywhere near him if she should happen to outscore you in the competition. However, he kept that to himself so that you would focus on doing your best with the challenges and not worrying about the ensuing fight that might be necessary.

Positively filthy, you push yourself off the ground and sprint as hard as you can towards the finish line. When you cross, your lungs are burning and you can hardly see with all mud on your face, but you smile as you hear the announcer state your time, 20 minutes and 38 seconds, a respectable time for someone who’s never competed in anything like this.

You head over to an area where outdoor showers have been set up so you can wash off the mud. The water is cool and refreshing as it runs over you, and you appreciate it, as you take in the moment, happy that this first part is finished. You’re wiping your face with a towel and when you can successfully see again, you look up to your favorite sight. Din and the little one come over to give you a hug and a Keldabe kiss.

“You did amazing, cyar’ika,” Din says his voice full of pride, “The announcers and everyone around us were really impressed too. You didn’t even get any penalties.”

“That’s good to hear, but I just hope it’s enough--” your statement gets cut off as you hear the announcers say Lagertha’s name excitedly.

“Yes, folks, it’s a new round one record for Mistress Lagertha at only 10 minutes and 32 seconds!”

Your heart drops at that news. She completed the course twice as fast as you did, and with a new record, she’s likely to be in first place going into the next part of the contest.

Din sees your expression and he leans down to tell you, “Don’t give up yet, I know she doesn’t have the brains to beat you in the next part.”

You look at him with wary eyes, “Maker, I hope not,” is all you can say.

After cleaning up, you’re ushered into a special lunch with the other competitors. Your completion time has placed you in the bottom half of the competitors, but you’re fortunate to see that you’re actually closer to the middle than you expected to be. There are several women with worse completion times because either they had many penalties or they were actually slower than you. It gives you a little bit of confidence as does the fact that many of the women have come up to congratulate you on making it this far.

“Well, look who’s still with us,” Lagertha strolls up to you as the luncheon is ending. She flanked by two friends taking a classic mean girl approach. It’s clear some things are universal no matter what planet you’re on.

“Congratulations on your record,” you say graciously. You know she wants to bait you into an argument, so you plan to stay cool and collected and deny her the satisfaction of seeing you upset. It’s a tactic you’ve seen Din use when people get mouthy with him.

“Why thank you! Aren’t you sweet?” She makes it sound like an insult. One of her friends rolls her eyes.

“I’m looking forward to the next round, I do enjoy an intellectual challenge,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Well, let’s just hope it’s something that your little head can handle,” she gives you a smirk as her friends snicker rudely. You’re getting really fed up with this elitist attitude they have.

Nonetheless, you swallow your anger and say, “Thanks.” But you know your eyes are showing your true feelings and it just seems to amuse her and her nasty friends all the more. You sigh, hold your head up high and just walk away from them heading into the room where the next round will be held. You hear shouts of laughter at your back but now it’s just fuel for your fire as you are determined to be outstanding in this next challenge.

You’re seated at a desk with a holopad and a camera designed to film you as you work on the puzzles and broadcast it on a large screen to the audience. It also allows the judges to see you in action and ensure that no cheating takes place. You feel more nervous than you anticipated because you didn’t think about everyone watching your every move. But then you look over to the stands and see the flash of beskar, even though he’s across the room from you, you can feel Din’s energy like a lifeline reaching out to you. It calms you and although you’re nervous, you know you can handle this.

Mistress Sigrid comes out to start the second round and announce the puzzles. She looks right at you and gives you a small nod that you take as encouragement before she says, “Welcome everyone to Round Two of the Battle of Astrid! This year’s intellectual challenge will ask our competitors to decipher three messages written in three unique and puzzling styles. This year will be a real brain workout as our third message features a real code used during wartime. Competitors may ‘purchase’ hints to the puzzles in the form of time with a more useful hint costing more time. Are we ready to begin?”

Thank the fucking Maker! The second challenge is codebreaking! You can’t believe your luck and when Sigrid hits the buzzer to start the competition and the first puzzle appears on your screen, you have a huge smile on your face.

The first code is a simple substitution cipher and is the type of code that children use when they’re writing secret messages, and with the free hint providing the first substitution, there is no challenge for you at all. You solve the code in three minutes. When your holopad confirms that your answer is correct, the next puzzle is displayed. You hear an impressed sound come from the crowd around you along with the surprised voice of the announcer saying that you are already on to the second puzzle.

You feel your confidence soar as you quickly glance up and see that no one else is even close to solving. The second code is much more complex and on first review, you believe it to be a shift cipher where each letter of the alphabet is shifted down to a new position. As you work, you notice that the code is actually a clever collection of multiple shifts in sequence. It’s a great platform for building a code and one that you might choose to use. It takes more work, but you feel like you’re in your element and everything around you falls away as you break the message. You realize you’ve got it and hit your button to submit. Suddenly you hear a large cheer when your correct message is confirmed, and look up to see that you’ve completed this round in just about 20 minutes. Another quick look at the other screens and you can see that you are now light-years ahead of anyone else, and more importantly, Lagertha has only just started the second puzzle.

When the third encoded message is displayed on your screen, you almost laugh out loud. The wartime code that Sigrid mentioned is an Imperial code that you not only recognize, it’s one that you helped create. You identify your own special coding signature and everything. Again, you can’t believe your luck, and you think the Maker really must be smiling down on you today. It’s not even a challenge for you. It takes you five minutes to decode the message and that’s only because it was a fairly long paragraph. When you hit submit and the correct message is confirmed, no one can believe it. The audience goes absolutely wild and the judges come rushing over to review your work. The competition is paused for the other competitors so that everyone can verify the results. There are some angry shouts demanding to see your work. But after a quick review of your holopad, there’s no denying it, you are correct and you have won the round.

“In a stunning turn of events, we have an incredible new record for the intelligence challenge,” Mistress Sigrid announces to the stunned crowd. “For the first time ever, a woman has completed this round in less than 30 minutes. Princess, please take a bow.”

You stand and take your bow, feeling a rush of true success and luck, and for the first time today, you breathe a sigh of relief. You hurry over to sit with Din and the child so that you can watch the rest of the competition now that it has resumed.

“You were incredible, I had no idea you were that good,” Din tells you, “I mean, I knew you were smart, but, cyar’ika, that was outstanding.”

“I was good, but I was also extremely lucky,” you whisper to him, “I’ll explain later.” If anyone were to hear about how you were able to break the code so quickly, it might lead to allegations of cheating and who knows what other problems.

Eira and Bradley also express their admiration for your performance and Eira even throws her arms around you in a bear hug. You’re so grateful to have at least a few other people supporting you.

You watch the competition, mostly for Lagertha but also smugly curious to see how the women do with breaking your code. You know it’s petty, but when you see how much everyone is struggling with it, you feel an upwelling of pride within you. No one is able to make any progress at all without purchasing at least three hints. This feeling of superiority grows especially as you watch Lagertha purchase every possible hint, costing her precious time, and then still struggle to solve it. When she does eventually figure it out, her time comes in at just over four hours.

After the competition ends for the day, everyone is ushered into a special dinner where the rankings will be announced for tomorrow’s strength challenge. You sit nervously next to Din poking at your food and then feeding most of it to the baby. You pray that your unbeatable score in the intelligence challenge will garner you a great position for this final hurdle.

“Remember if you’ve placed high enough, you might only have to fight in a couple matches,” Eira explains, “Hell, with that score you pulled off in Round Two, you’re looking really great.” You know from her earlier coaching that a high score will put you into one of the higher rounds of the tournament automatically reducing the number of women you’ll need to take on in the strength competition.

Finally, Mistress Sigrid is at her podium next to a giant screen and is ready to reveal the results. You listen restlessly as she announces the competitors in reverse order from bottom to top finishers. You keep waiting to see your ranking, but it doesn’t seem to be coming. Shockingly, Lagertha’s name is revealed in sixth place, and then even more astonishingly, you listen as Sigrid declares that you have rocketed your way into second place.

“It is unprecedented to see such a meteoric rise in this battle, but I believe we all owe our off-world princess a round of applause for her cunning mind,” Sigrid praises you, and you nod blindly in your bewilderment.

“I can’t believe I pulled that off,” you say to Din.

“It’s great, because it means you’ll only have two fights at the most, because you automatically advance to the final four!” Eira practically squeals at you.

At the thought of the fights, your glow of success and hopefulness starts to fade and the reality of having to fight at least one if not two of these giant women settles on your shoulders. It must show on your face, because you feel Din lean in close to you and place a hand on your arm.

“Hey, don’t fret,” Din is saying to you, “Best case scenario, Lagertha is defeated in an earlier round and then you can just concede and come in fourth.”

“True, but there’s still a chance I have two matches that I need to win tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can even manage one,” you tell him honestly.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” he replies and he takes your hand interlocking his fingers with yours. It’s a small gesture but it has an instant effect and you feel warmed by his faith in you.

When you return to your room, you look around and decide that maybe it will be a good idea to pack up your belongings, just in case you need to make a hasty exit from this place. Something is nagging at your mind, but you can’t figure out what it is. There’s just a feeling that something is going to go wrong. The packing serves as a good outlet for the uneasy energy that has taken over your body, but you don’t really have that much stuff and after it’s all organized, you turn your attention to the child. He likes to be rocked to sleep and so you start to do that, but then your frazzled nerves and racing mind turn rocking into pacing until Din steps in.

“Let me take him, cyar’ika,” he says gently, “You’re keeping him awake you’re moving so quickly.”

“Oh, I, I’m sorry,” you say sounding distracted.

“It’s ok,” he says as he reaches for the child, “You go get ready for bed.”

You listen to him and go through your nightly ablutions, but still there is something toying with the edge of your thoughts, something that you’re missing. When Din comes into the bedroom, you’re sitting straight up in bed nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you replay various moments from the day in your head.

“My love, you need to relax,” Din says with a soft sigh, “You’re getting yourself so worked up you’ll never sleep.”

“How did Sigrid get that code, Din?” you ask, having identified that as the primary source for your frustration.

“What do you mean?” he questions confused.

“You know how I said I got lucky in the code-breaking competition,” you say, “That third code was an Imperial Code, it was my code, or at least one that I helped create.”

“That’s why you solved it so quickly,” he realizes.

“Yes, but how did they get it, and how did they know how it worked in order to make into one of their puzzles?” This is the question that has been wracking your brain.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation, cyar’ika,” Din says calmly, trying to help you settle down, “Remember, the Rebellion had code-breakers too and it’s possible someone on their side broke that code.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” you say, “And then maybe they made those documents public after the war?” It sounds possible, but your voice is still full of doubt and unease.

“Yes, it’s likely that’s what happened,” Din says. He looks at you for a long moment and then says, “Take off your nightgown and lie down on your stomach. I’m going to rub your back to help you relax.”

“I’m naked under this,” you say automatically, still distracted by your turbulent thoughts.

He chuckles, “Well, I was hoping that I’d get the privilege of seeing you naked again, but honestly this will just help me massage you better.”

“Oh right, of course,” you say, letting out a shaky laugh yourself as you pull off your nightgown and lie down.

You try to will yourself to relax as you feel his large, warm hands begin to sweep over the muscles of your back. His fingers knead into you and start to relieve the tension in your shoulders as he works out the little knots there. His hands move down your spine stretching and soothing the muscles. When he gets to the part of your lower back that always seems stiff, you let out a little moan as he helps relieve the pain there. He gently runs his hand over your bare backside and you feel a little spike of desire before he moves on to massage your thighs. He massages all down your legs, working out sore spots you didn’t realize you had. When he gets to your feet, you’re feeling so much better, you almost forget why you were so worked up.

“Turn over,” Din tells you. You comply, a little confused, but you figure he knows what he’s doing.

He keeps massaging your feet for a while longer, and then starts to move up your legs again. As he reaches your thighs again, he starts to nudge them apart and you watch as he climbs up on the bed. His touch starts to change and you realize he’s staring between your legs now and it’s turning you on.

“What are you doing, Din?” You have a pretty good idea, but you want to hear him say it.

“I’m going to make sure you’re completely relaxed, cyar’ika, the best way I know how,” he tells you with determination.

Now his hands are right on either side of your pussy and again he just stares for a moment before he lets his fingers begin to explore your most sensitive flesh.

“Do you like to look at me, Din?” you ask in a sultry voice.

“I love to look at you like this,” he says gruffly, “So beautiful when you’re open for me.” You hum your approval in response as his fingers apply more pressure and start to circle your entrance.

“You get so wet,” Din tells you, “I love how responsive you are to me.” He plunges his long middle finger of his right hand inside of you and you cry out softly at how good it feels. His left hand is now playing with your clit as two of his fingers roll and pinch it between them. Gently, he adds a second finger to the first one inside you, moving them in and out and swirling them around reaching deep within you. His motions are unhurried and you relax even more into his touch. Every so often, he crooks his fingers upward, making you moan out his name. It feels so good and his pace is so steady that the pleasure builds slowly and even as you know you’re reaching your climax, it feels like you are floating towards it rather than hurtling there like you usually do. This time it’s not a race for release; instead, it’s like he’s trying to draw it out of you as gradually as possible. When you do finally reach your peak, it is blissful and you moan his name out contentedly.

As your breathing returns to normal, you tell him, “You’re right, Din, I feel so much better, so relaxed.” Your mind is finally quiet, “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll help you feel good.”

“No, cyar’ika, this was all about you,” Din says gently, “I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep now.”

“You sure?” you ask, but you can’t deny you do feel very sleepy already.

“I’m positive,” he says. You feel him pull the blankets up around you and then he carefully places the sleep mask over your eyes. You hear the telltale sound of his helmet coming off and then you feel his soft lips against yours. When you settle back into your pillow, you feel drowsy and peaceful. When Din’s arms come around you and he pulls your body against his, you’re already drifting off.

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The strength competition is a master class in hand-to-hand combat. You watch from the warm-up area with the other competitors, awed by how powerful and skilled these women are at their sport. You have only a shred of hope that you will be able to put up a good showing in the competition and you’re desperately wishing for someone else to take out Lagertha for you. So far though, she looks to be in her element. She fought off her first two challengers handily and while it gave you an opportunity to study her fighting style, it mostly just scared the pants off you. Now Lagertha just has one more woman to beat and if she does, you’ll have to fight her. At least she was randomly selected to be on your side of the tournament bracket, otherwise you’d have to be sure to advance to the final round and beat her there.

Din and the baby come over to stand with you, as you get ready to watch Lagertha’s next match. Din places his arm around your shoulders helping to calm you. You take the child into your arms, since you know his sweet presence with help you feel better too.

“Look, see how she drops her shoulder there,” Din points out, “That’s a good opportunity to land a painful hit.” You nod as you listen to his advice.

“Oh, and there, you see how she puts all her balance on her front foot when she throws that cross,” he shows you another weakness, “If you can kick at her other leg when she does that, you’ll knock her down for sure.”

You turn and look at him, really look him, as he’s still trying to coach you up until the last possible moment. As you watch him, a sense of happiness and calm comes over you. It dawns on you that Din will always be on your side, rooting for you, believing in you, and nothing will change that. He really is the best man you have ever known. You slide your arm around his waist and rest yourself against his body and you let his continued advise wash over you. No matter what happens, you know you are going to fight your heart out for him; it’s what he deserves.

You watch resigned as Lagertha defeats her opponent and you know the time has come. There’s a short break between the matches, so you have a few minutes with your guys before you have to step into the fighting ring.

“Thank you for all your help,” you say to Din as you pull his helmet down to meet your forehead, “I’m going to fight like hell for you.”

Then you shift your attention to the child on your hip, and turn him around so you’re facing each other. You look deep into his eyes, and whisper to him, “If you do end up helping, just try to be subtle, OK?” You lean down and give him a kiss on his forehead. He coos at you like he understands, and you cross your fingers that he won’t try to fling Lagertha across the arena.

“So, little princess, are you ready to get that butt kicked?” Lagertha jeers at you as you enter the ring.

“I’m ready to fight for Mando,” you tell her with determination, “He’ll never be yours. Besides, I doubt you’d even know what to do with him.”

“Oh you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Lagertha snaps back at you, and maybe you hit a nerve.

You smirk at her as you reply, “I think the intelligence contest proved that yesterday already, or did you forget?”

Lagertha is seething at you now, “You little bitch, I’m going to destroy you.”

In getting her good and angry, you can see she’s throwing out her strategy and is going into blind attack mode. You think one more biting remark will really push her off her game and it might cause her to make a mistake. “At least I don’t have to win a man in a contest to make him mine,” you taunt her, your voice condescending.

Lagertha lunges at you before the buzzer has even sounded, but in her anger she telegraphs the move and you dodge her attack just as Din showed you. The referee for the match blows her whistle and signals a penalty for Lagertha.

“None of that!” the referee snaps, “Get back and wait for the buzzer!”

You can see that Lagertha is vibrating with anger and although you know it’s risky to keep making her mad, it is keeping her unbalanced and sloppy, so you wink at her and smirk in her direction.

When the buzzer sounds and the referee signals the start of combat, Lagertha charges at you again in her rage. You can see that all of her weight is leaning forward with her momentum and so you duck and throw out a kick to her knee that knocks her to the ground. You quickly move away from her though so she can’t grab you and pull you down too. She scrambles to her feet and then runs towards you again. This time she’s better prepared, and when you land a blow to her ankle, it merely trips her up but she doesn’t fall. You figure your best strategy is to keep moving and dodging her as much as possible in hope of tiring her out. Din had pointed out to you that she’s already fought several matches and that making her chase you would be difficult for her. You can hear the crowd cheering the more you bob and weave and land a few small blows. You’re not doing a lot of damage to her, but it does seem to slow her down at least, and so far, you managed from getting hit by her. The more you do this, you hear the crowd sound begin to shift. The spectators are starting to laugh. It must look pretty funny you realize as you land your little hits and then run away from this giantess.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Lagertha threatens you as she finally makes contact with your body, punching you hard in the side. You flail a bit but manage to keep your feet and try to dart away again, but she reaches out and grabs your wrist, hauling your body back up against hers. It’s almost the same exact position from when Din first started training you and the memory of that runs through your mind as you automatically fight her off exactly the way he taught you in that first ever lesson.

As he watches you successfully break away from Lagertha’s hold, Din feels incredibly proud. Everything you’re doing is what he trained you to do. Although he hates the fact that he can’t be the one to fight and protect you, the feeling of seeing what you’ve learned from him is gratifying in a way he never knew it could be. He winces as Lagertha manages to punch you in the shoulder, but then it turns to a shout of praise as you land a good kick to her hip. You’re fighting so hard for him that it makes his heart ache and, rather unexpectedly, it’s turning him on quite a lot. That is until Lagertha manages to knock you to the ground hard, so hard that you cry out in pain and Din feels sick. He can see Lagertha rearing up so that she can drop her full weight on top of you in a crushing blow, but then it’s like she’s stuck for a moment or is second-guessing her move. It that split second, you manage to roll over and swing your legs around hard, sweeping Lagertha’s feet, making her stumble and fall. You pop up onto your feet again, but blessedly Lagertha stays down. It isn’t until the referee is blowing the whistle that Din looks down and see the child’s hand extended.

“Ok, that’s enough, kiddo,” Din says quietly to him, but he’s secretly pleased that the child helped you win.

You cannot believe what has happened as you stand there panting and swaying slightly on your feet. After the initial whistle blow, the referee came over to you and thrust your hand in the air, signaling that you were the winner of the match. But then, Lagertha finally made it to her feet and tried to hit you again, but ended up punching the referee. A small shouting match broke out at that and now the referee is conferring with the judges and Mistress Sigrid as Lagertha argues with them that something went wrong during the fight. You look over to Din and the child, and you can see that the little guy looks happy but rather sleepy, a sure sign of some force assistance. You hope nothing looked too out of the ordinary to the crowd.

“That’s enough, Lagertha,” Mistress Sigrid is saying angrily now, “Give it up! You challenged her and you lost; take it like a woman!”

You watch wide-eyed as Sigrid then comes over to you, raises your hand in the air again, and announces to the crowd, “The winner of this match!”

A sense of true relief washes over you and you feel tears of joy at your eyes. Knowing that the win isn’t entirely yours doesn’t bother you because you still fought hard, and you know that Lagertha can’t take Din away from you. You look around for him in the crowd again, but you don’t see him, and you’re starting to get concerned when suddenly he’s there in the ring with you, sweeping you up into his arms and spinning you around. He sets you down on your feet again as he brings his helmet down to your forehead and the two of you are oblivious to everyone else around you.

“You did it, cyar’ika,” Din tells you happily, his voice filled with admiration.

“I think I had a little help,” you whisper and then lean down and kiss the baby on the nose. He coos up at you softly and then slowly blinks his dark eyes.

“Ok, lovebirds, I think we know how this competition is going to end,” Sigrid is there chuckling as you finally pull away from Din’s embrace. “Technically you are supposed to fight Runa here in the final match of the competition.”

You see Runa standing there looking at you with respect and she says to you, “I’m not interested in your Mando, so if you want to concede, I’m happy to be the overall winner without another fight.”

“Yes, I wish to concede the next round and select Mando as my prize,” you state happily.

“Very well,” Sigrid says smiling big, “Congratulations on your performance and enjoy your prize!”

“Thank you, I will.”

-----------------------------------------------------

You emerge from the luxurious bathroom having had a restoring shower and a recovery drink with a healthy dose of bacta to heal your bruises from the fight. You feel like a new woman and the pride of your win is still pulsing through your veins along with lust for your Mandalorian. You hear Din in the bedroom now and he calls out to you,

“The kid’s asleep; he’s out for the night.” You figured as much since you know using his powers tends to tire him out quickly.

You drop the towel that was wrapped around your body and saunter out into the room naked. Din instantly drops what he’s doing and you know he’s starting at you. You smile suggestively at him and then make a show of looking him up and down.

“What are doing, cyar’ika?” he asks, he sounds aroused and entertained.

“Appreciating my prize,” you tell him saucily, “Get undressed so I can appreciate you even more.” So far, you’ve let him take the lead when it comes to the physical side of your relationship, but tonight you want to be in control. You wonder how far he’ll let you take it.

He tilts his helmet at you, as if to say, oh really?, but then he starts removing his armor as that black visor stays trained on you. This is a different side than you’ve shown him before and he likes it, so he’s eager to fulfill your request. As more of his layers are removed, you make little comments as he reveals his body to you. He stays quiet though; content to listen to your praise and suggestive remarks.

When the gloves come off, you say, “You have such nice strong hands, Din, and very skilled fingers.”

Then his cape, “I can still see the marks I made on your neck, do you remember how good that felt?”

Next is his shirt, “I love your big arms, they feel incredible when they’re wrapped around me. Oh and that gorgeous chest feels so good when I press against it.”

He leans down to remove his boots, this time you giggle, “I guess the big feet saying is true when it comes to you.”

Then his trousers are off, “Your thighs are so nice and thick, I wonder what it would be like to ride one.”

But then, his underwear slides down those thighs, “Oh, now that’s the prize I’m gonna ride.”

“Cyar’ika,” Din says his voice deep and gravely, and with that one word you can hear how turned on he is.

“Get on the bed and sit with your back against the headboard,” you tell him and watch as he moves quickly to comply. Watching him strip for you and ordering him about has you very turned on and you feel your wetness coating your inner thighs.

“I can see how wet you are from here,” Din tells you, “I like how turned on you get by just seeing me.”

You climb onto the bed and straddle Din’s legs with your own and his hands immediately come up to hold your waist. He tugs you down lightly but you stay up on your knees for now, wanting to tease him some more before you get too carried away.

“Touch my tits first,” you tell him and you reach to move his hands upward. His hands slide up your body to cup your breasts and then his fingers pinch and pull at your nipples teasing them into hard and needy little peaks. You let your head loll back and you push yourself further into his hands. You hold onto his arms and you gently let your hips become flush with his. You don’t let him enter you yet though, instead you just grind against him letting his hard cock brush through your wetness and rub against your clit in a delicious fashion. Din groans loudly at the contact and he bucks up into you in an attempt to create more friction.

“Not yet,” you say, “I want you to touch me more, first.” You lift back up off his hips, take his right hand from your chest, and guide it to your core.

“Make me come, Din, like only you can,” you order him and then you gasp as he pushes two fingers into you at once.

“Gladly, my princess,” he replies. Unlike his easy pace from the other day, this time his fingers plunder your tight passage, pushing in deeply without much warning. The swift invasion makes you cry out his name and you clench around him tightly. He rotates his hand so his thumb can circle your clit and your hips start to buck against him. You stare into the blackness of the visor and you know he’s watching your face even though you can’t see his eyes. There’s something about seeing that unreadable mask in front of you but hearing his harsh breathing that excites you even more.

“Yes, Din, yes, that’s it,” you moan out, as his fingers inside you focus on the spot that gives you the most pleasure. It feels so good that your thighs are starting to shake and you know you’re already close. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you hard and fast while his other hand tweaks your sensitive nipple in a perfect blend of stimulation.

“Are you going to come for me, cyar’ika? You gonna soak my hand?” Din’s voice urges you on and you rock on his fingers drawing out the sensation as much as possible before you feel your internal muscles fluttering around him as you come apart with a shout of his name.

“That’s my good girl,” he says and you watch as his fingers disappear beneath the helmet so that he can lick them clean.

“I’m ready to fully claim my prize now,” you say with a wink as you reposition yourself over his cock.

“Yeah, you gonna take me now? Make me yours?” Din asks his voice laced with amusement and lust. He reaches down to hold himself in position for you.

“Mmm, yes, I’m going take you, all of you,” you reply as you slowly start to sink down on him. You draw out your descent, pulling up a little before sinking down again, each time going a little lower and taking more of him. You can see that Din’s trying to hold himself still, but as you get closer to taking all of him, he can’t resist thrusting up into you those last few inches until he’s fully inside of you. It feels so good and you grind yourself against his body. Your hands are on his chest helping support you and you stare into his visor hoping that you’re making eye contact with him.

“You’re mine, Din,” you tell him as you start to lift off him and then come back down. You glide up and down on his cock finishing it with a grind against him each time.

“Say it again, say I’m yours,” he says as you start to find a rhythm to your movements.

“You’re mine, Din, you’re mine,” you repeat and his hands come to your hips to urge you to move faster on him.

“Tell me I’m only yours,” he demands and he starts to match your movements, thrusting his hips up into you. He feels so huge in this position and when he surges upward into you, the feeling is sublime.

“Only mine, Din, you’re only mine,” you breathe out as you start to bounce faster on him, riding him harder, “No… other woman… can have you… only me.”

“That’s fucking right,” Din says and his hand finds your clit again, rubbing frantic circles around it, “Tell me again, don’t stop telling me.”

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine!” You can feel yourself galloping toward your release, and the more you call him yours, the more a primal need for him awakens within you. It makes the pleasure that much more intense and you feel yourself burning white hot from it. The flames within you build as you continue to cry out that he is yours until it is too much and the fire consumes you.

Din watches as you reach your peak. He relishes in seeing how beautiful you look in that moment and in hearing how you sound as you’re absolutely overcome by him. His strong arms wrap around you to hold you up as you slow your movements and become more relaxed. He takes advantage of your momentary pliant state to roll you over, so he can be on top now. He did enjoy having you ride him, but he needs to be able to really thrust into you now, the way he’s been thinking about all day. Din pulls your legs up to his shoulders before he enters you again, this new position allowing him to penetrate you deeper than before.

“Ah, Din! Yes, oh Maker, yes!” you shout out your approval competing with the wet, lewd sounds filling the air as he pistons into you. Your cunt is so tight around him, he almost feels like you’re pushing him out of you each time you clamp down hard around him. Din knows he won’t last long like this, but with the way you’re thrashing around underneath him now, he doesn’t think you’ll care.

“You f-fought so hard for me t- today,” Din tells you between thrusts, “So- so p-proud of you, m- my cyar’ika.”

You mewl when he says that and seem to clench around him even tighter. It makes him want to say it again,

“My cyar’ika, mine,” he repeats and it feels as though you become even wetter for him. It makes him increase his speed and now his hips are pounding against yours. He’s going much harder than he dared the first time you were together. It’s like something has come unleashed in him, a deep desire to show you how much you are his, how much he wants to be with you, needs to be with you. He watches as you arch your back and writhe up to meet his punishing thrusts, your head is thrown back as you let out a near constant string of moans and Din thinks he’s never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. He feels himself get impossibly harder and he knows that he’s close to his climax, but he want you to get there again first.

“My cyar’ika… fuck, want you… want you to come again… t-touch yourself,” Din tells you and you immediately reach down to play with your clit. Your fingers move rapidly in tempo with his hips and you start to shudder.

“Ahh, DIN! Yes! DIN!” He loves the way you cry out his name when you come and as soon as you start to squeeze around him, he lets himself go, pumping his seed deep within you as he follows you into the ecstasy of release.

Din slowly pulls out of you and lowers your legs before collapsing next to you. He lies there for just a moment before rolling towards the nightstand and pulling out the sleep mask. When he comes back closer to you again, he reaches up to cradle your face with one of his hands and looks into your eyes.

“My love, even though we haven’t been together long, I want you to know there is no one that could ever take me away from you. I’m so proud of how well you did in the competition, but you have to know that I would never have gone with that woman. I mean it when I say I’m only yours. And you should know that I won’t let anyone take you from me either,” Din tells you, his words heartfelt. You feel tears prick at your eyes as your emotions flood your chest.

“I mean it too, Din, I am yours, and you have to know I’ll never stop fighting for you, for us, when I need to,” you reply and place your hand over his.

“Can I cover your eyes? If I don’t kiss you soon, I’m going to burst,” he says.

“Yes, please, I need to kiss you too, my darling Din.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

In another part of the state residence, Mistress Sigrid sits in her office and stares at a flickering holo. The image must be at least 7 or 8 years old, but there’s no doubt in her mind now that it must be you. After seeing you for a few days in a row, she knows that even though it’s an old holo, you are the same woman, and although you might be passing yourself off as a princess now, your appearance hasn’t changed that much. Plus, after rigging the intelligence challenge to include that Imperial code, she knows for certain that you must be the woman that Commander Kerrick Hoven is seeking and for whom he is willing to hand over a fortune in credits. She punches a code into her comm device.

The image of a blond man with sharp eyes appears and speaks, “Mistress Sigrid, I hope this is confirmation of good news.”

“Yes, Commander Hoven, I am certain it is her.” Sigrid replies.

“She was able to break the code easily?” he asks.

Sigrid chuckles, “She took only 5 minutes to do it. That along with the holo you sent confirms that it must be her.”

“Only 5 minutes,” Kerrick repeats fondly, “Still my brilliant little doll. You said she’s pretending to be a princess and is cavorting with a Mandalorian? She always was one for lost causes.”

“Yes, well, he shouldn’t be any problem for my warriors. When will you be here to collect her and transfer the funds to my account?” Sigrid asks.

“We shall see you in five hours.” Kerrick ends the call and his image flickers out.

---------------------------------------------------------

It hasn’t been very long since you drifted off to sleep when you are jolted away by tiny claws grabbing at your face and a scared cry. You can feel that Din is at your back, his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried into your hair, so you know it is safe to lift the sleep mask. When you do, you are met with the child’s highly distressed face.

“Buddy? What’s the matter? How did you get in here?” You have no idea what’s going on.

The child reaches his hands out to you and places them on either side of your face and suddenly your mind is filled with images. You see the interior of what looks to be an Imperial ship filled with storm troopers and other officers, then suddenly you are on the bridge of the cruiser looking at Kerrick in a commander’s uniform. He looks older than you remember and you can see that he is staring at a holo of you. You can’t tell what he’s saying but you can feel the threat that he poses and you are seized with the idea that you are in danger.

The child removes his hands and the images disappear. You heart is pounding and you have broken out in a cold sweat.

“Buddy, is that what’s happening? Is Kerrick after me?” you ask the child wildly even though you know he can’t respond. He just lets out more sad, whiny sounds and now you can hear Din starting to stir.

“What’s goin’ on? Middle of the night,” Din’s sleepy voice comes to you even as it’s still muffled by the pillows.

“Din, wake up, we have to leave, we have to leave right now.” Your voice is urgent but you keep it low so you won’t alert the rest of the household.

“What?” Din says confused.

“The child showed me Imperials coming after us, after me,” you tell him. You want to leap out of bed and start getting dressed but you know his helmet is still off and you won’t move until you know his creed is protected. “Please, put on your helmet.”

Din rolls away from you and you hear shuffling before he says, “Ok, turn around and tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know how he did it, but the child showed me a vision, it was Kerrick, only now he’s a commander and he was looking at a holo of me, and I could feel the danger, that we’re in danger.” Your words are coming out in a jumble but you do your best to explain.

“It could just be a bad dream, couldn’t it?” Din asks.

“How would the kid know about Kerrick? Please, Din, we have to leave, I know that we need to leave.”

“You’re right, cyar’ika, there’s no way the kid could know about your ex-lover, and if you feel that strongly we’ll go right now. It’s ok, don’t panic. I’ll protect you.”

You’re thankful that you have almost everything already packed and you hurry to pull on clothes. You collect the last few things you have strewn about the room before the three of you slink out into the corridor. Thankfully, no one is around and as you stealthily make your way back to the Razor Crest, you manage to avoid seeing anyone. It isn’t until Din takes off and you breach the atmosphere that you feel like you can breathe again. Din is working on putting in coordinates, when a pinging comes in on the long-range scanner.

“There’s an Imperial light cruiser closing in on Angel One,” he states gruffly and he quickly makes the jump to hyperspace.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean she isn’t here? You fucking promised me!” Kerrick’s angry voice rings down the corridor from Mistress Sigrid’s office.

“I don’t know what happened, when my staff went to deliver their breakfast, they weren’t there,” Sigrid explains, embarrassed, “Then we discovered their ship was gone…”

“Such incompetence, no wonder you were of no use to the Empire during the war,” Kerrick sneers at her. He slams his fist down on her desk, “Fucking waste of fuel to come here! Five years of searching and I thought this time I’d finally found her.”

“Sir, they were able to give us some security footage of her. We have her initial interview when she arrived here, and recordings of her competing in some type of contest here.” An ensign brings Kerrick a holopad.

Kerrick brings up the interview footage first, when he sees Din and the child he pauses the images, “This child, she said he was hers?”

“Her ward, she said the Mando rescued him,” Sigrid replies.

“I know this child,” Kerrick says thoughtfully, “Moff Gideon is searching for him, and this must be the troublemaker Mando he spoke about.”

Kerrick looks back at the holopad and stares at your image on the screen. He touches the pad softly as he murmurs, “Still so beautiful, my doll, don’t worry, I’ll find you and bring you back to where you belong. I’ll rid you of that vile Mando and then we’ll be together again, just like it should be. We should have been together today, my doll, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Suddenly, he pulls out his blaster and shoots Sigrid in the heart before whipping around and stalking out of the room. “Come Ensign, we must contact Moff Gideon and see if we can’t pick up the trail of this Mandalorian.”

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Tag list: @grogusmum @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @imthemandalornow @hotsauceonabiscuit @overtly-cuteashell

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. In case you’re wondering, yes, you did remember to grab the sleep masks before you fled ;-) Chapter 8

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

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All right, reactions to Mando 2.05, “The Jedi”, in...semi-coherent form. Spoilers, obvs. I hated this episode, so keep scrolling now if you don’t want to see negativity. This is not in any kind of order except stream-of-conscious.

again, I reiterate, spoilers.

again, I reiterate, this is REALLY negative.

Rosario Dawson...yikes.

how...did Bo-Katan know that Ahsoka was on Corvus? are they in contact? since when? Ahsoka seems to have been on Corvus for long enough to be a nuisance to the Magistrate (Morgan Elsbeth), but normally Ahsoka is very efficient and she just...really does not seem to be here? I did not get the impression she was planning on sticking around for any period of time.

(the same could be true for Frog Lady and Bo-Katan on Trask several episodes back. that wasn’t a convert, that was three Mandalorians hanging around the port in cloaks. I guess they could be doing that on the regular, but? would the Empire not then be more worried about being attacked by Mandalorians?)

there was only ever a very, very slim chance that I was going to be happy with any translation of Ahsoka from animation to live action. I am on record as thinking that animation is the medium for Star Wars and that live action is always going to be a weaker medium than animation and that a lot of things that can be done in animation just cannot be translated to live action in any meaningful form. I knew Ahsoka’s fighting style couldn’t translate to live action convincingly (here’s what I said about the mo-capped duel in TCW); it never occurred to me that they couldn’t pull off TOGRUTA given that Shaak Ti, you know, exists, and also there are so many excellent Ahsoka cosplayers.

(Consider KM Creations’ excellent silicone lekku (S7), which have beautiful movement; the cosplayer behind that is CallMeSnips and her epilogue prototype is from SWCC is in there somewhere. I think Rei Kennex’s are latex (you can tell they don’t have much movement) but at least they’re the right length. I think Ahsoka94′s are also latex (again with the movement); this is her Mortis vision grown-up Ahsoka.)

AND YES, THE LEKKU/MONTRALS WERE A DEAL-BREAKER FOR ME.

I feel very “you have made your bed and now you have to die in it” about that -- apparently the reasoning is for stunts and movement, but for me here’s the thing: her lekku length wasn’t optional. This is not the equivalent of changing a hair style, which some people seem to think (believe me, I have read so many hot takes); this is like...I’m trying to think of a good comparison. Like putting Peter Mayhew or Joonas Suotamo in a wig because Chewie’s head was too hard for the actor to see out of, or giving them normal human hands because they can’t grip with the Wookiee hands.

Also your main character wears a helmet at all times that (if it’s anything like my Mandalorian helmet) is pretty poor visibility and full body armor and THIS was your breaking point for stunts?

Ahsoka’s lekku and montrals grow as she ages. These are about S7 length; as @reena-jenkins put it, THEY DE-AGED HER HEAD. Ahsoka fans coming in know this. PEOPLE SAW THE REBELS EPILOGUE.

I wonder how many of the people being self-righteous about being totally fine about Ahsoka’s lekku are the same people who claim that Katee Sackhoff is too young to play Bo-Katan.

this also puts them in a weird position in regards to the inevitable merchandise: do they go with normal Ahsoka from TCW and Rebels, the one everyone is familiar with, or do they go with these stunted lekku?

(I can’t believe they’re going to make Her Universe sell merch with this Ahsoka on it. it’s not going to happen but I wish HU was going to be petty enough to not sell any nu!Ahsoka merch.)

Here is some nice art of how Ahsoka’s lekku and montral should have looked.

hoo boy were those prosthetics also just Bad.

“but the stunts” buddy I’m sure Pedro Pascal and his various stunt doubles aren’t having a great time in full armor with almost no visibility either

if you’re going to put the character in, do it right

YOU CAN’T CHEAT

look, I am really, really aural -- the best example I can give is that even though intellectually I know that Matt Lanter and Hayden Christensen both play Anakin Skywalker, I literally cannot parse them as both being the same Anakin Skywalker and for that reason TCW and the PT don’t exist for the same continuity for me. (This also goes for Ewan McGregor and James Arnold Taylor, Natalie Portman and Cat Taber, and Samuel L. Jackson and TC Carson. I can kinda cope with the multiple Palpatine VAs. Yes, the decision to use Hayden and Sam in Ahsoka’s vision in “Shattered,” even blending into Matt’s voice from Hayden’s, threw me so badly I couldn’t take the vision seriously.) Ashley Eckstein has a very distinctive voice, and moreover has been the only person to ever voice Ahsoka up to this point (even in the Ahsoka novel audiobook). Barring a MIRACLE I was never going to be able to parse another actress’s voice as Ahsoka’s, solely because of how my brain works.

I could probably have parsed someone else’s face because animated Ahsoka is pretty stylized but the voice thing is a huge problem for me because of how aural I am.

(I say this but when Squadrons did a more live action-style Hera -- knowing they mo-capped Vanessa Marshall I think they used Vanessa’s face for Hera’s, which is also what it looks like on the revised art and face sculpt for the Black Series Hera -- I kind of had a meltdown about it (for...weird reasons). And that was the same VA.)

(The timeskip between TCW and Rogue One, then Rebels, probably saved Saw Gerrera for me here, but he was also never a main character.)

can you believe that Sam Witwer’s Maul got more live action respect than Ashley Eckstein’s Ahsoka

I love Sam’s Maul but wow

this is particularly jarring because Dave Filoni and Ashley Eckstein always seemed like they were friends? I realize that this gets skewed by how little of their actual lives we see online, but that is the vibe that I’ve gotten from interviews and social media posts.

can you believe that TROS gave more respect to Ashley Eckstein’s Ahsoka than Dave Filoni’s Mando episode did (here is her statement on TROS.)

back in March, when the Dawson casting rumors first dropped (or leaked, as the case may be), Ashley posted a statement about it saying that she was not involved in The Mandalorian. she has over the years been very vocal about desperately wanting to play live-action Ahsoka, who is a character solely associated with her up until today, and honestly this just breaks my heart.

I am not the massive Ashley Eckstein fan that many Ahsoka fans are, but I have never heard anything bad about her (I saw her at my hotel at SWCC while I was waiting for my roommate to arrive! that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to her, a distance of about six feet), and I really desperately hope that someone told her about this beforehand and she didn’t find out from watching the episode.

Also, while I’m here talking about Ashley Eckstein, the characterization here was extremely off, in that specific way that happens when a writer/director is working with their absolute favorite character, DAVE FILONI. I do trust Ashley to course-correct Dave on Ahsoka (in the same way we’ve heard about Sam Witwer pushing back on people about Maul), and that...was not happening here. (I think Katee Sachoff said something similar to this about Bo-Katan in her interview last week, as well.)

how did you get Bo-Katan so right and Ahsoka so wrong

look, Dave Filoni is truly living up to George Lucas’s legacy in that he can story tell pretty well but he’s not actually that great at nitty-gritty of writing and directing. (none of the really good TCW episodes are his.)

this episode made me think of A Friend in Need (which he directed) which is not, like, a BAD episode but quite notoriously includes the Bo-Katan ass-slap and also Ahsoka beheading four Mandalorians at once.

it also includes a helpless village of oppressed and exploited Asian-coded civilians who are there mostly as background scenery so the bad guys can be bad and the heroes can feel righteous

I’ll come back to that one

the level of violence in this episode was...weird. honestly, too high? in a way that probably would not have registered if it was anyone but Ahsoka. look, I am an animated shows person. I know TCW and Rebels inside and out. I know that neither one is particularly shy about killing off faceless bad guys (though if you watch Rebels S1 compared to Rebels S4 they really dial back the amount of fatal violence the main characters commit in the last season, lol). But this felt off for Ahsoka in a way I can’t really articulate.

why is Ahsoka attacking a random Mandalorian (her allies are Mandalorians!) who is walking through the woods WITH A BABY? WITHOUT WARNING?

part of that is just her movement -- when they animated her for TCW back in 2008, they made a deliberate decision to give her mannerisms and movement and a fighting style that a human can’t do because she isn’t human and animation can do that. which means that they hobbled themselves when they came to translating her to live action because uh a human can’t do that.

something about her lightsaber blades looked really, really wrong and I can’t put my finger on what. it’s like they just used the illuminated blades of the stunt sabers but didn’t do the extra CGI that the films do? I don’t know.

Ahsoka did a LOT of dramatic posing and what WAS that?

Dave can’t direct live action, that’s what that was

since when can you canonically convey that much information mind to mind

are Ahsoka and Grogu a dyad in the Force (I know the answer is no but also: what? what was happening?)

the only people we’ve seen who can do that sort of thing are Quinlan Vos and Cal Kestis, who both have the rare talent for telemetry, and even that’s not mind to mind communication, that’s touching a thing and going “YIKES”

you are telling me that Ahsoka Tano, whom six months ago we saw take on Darth Maul, a whole barrage of Mandalorian warriors, and her entire clone trooper battalion and walk away without a scratch, had to work up a sweat fighting one woman with a spear

you do know that we all saw TCW and Rebels right

and here’s the problem! this episode makes zero sense if you HAVE seen TCW and Rebels because (1) she doesn’t look right (2) she doesn’t fight right (3) timelines? we’ve never heard of them? (4) is Thrawn back? did you find the Chimaera? (you all do remember that Ezra and Thrawn aren’t out there alone and are in fact with a 40,000 man crewed star destroyer right) (5) did you NOT find them? (6) are you even looking? (7) this is supposed to be AFTER the Rebels epilogue unless you’ve decided to take advantage of that specific ending scene not being super specifically dated and if it’s before IT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE! because I desperately hate that epilogue and its implications EVEN AS IT IS! (8) why would you call this episode “The Jedi” when since 2013 Ahsoka’s whole thing has been not being a Jedi

to be fair I’m pretty sure S7 tried very hard to course correct that but unfortunately, they could not because the rest of canon exists

are you still trying to deny me grown Ahsoka and Rex when we know you got Temuera back for a five second shot of Boba

to be fair I would have the same aural problems with Temuera voicing Rex because that’s Dee Bradley Baker as far as I’m concerned (I reiterate that this is because of how my brain process character and sound, not anythign else)

if you haven’t seen TCW and Rebels this is a random Jedi wandering around for no specific reason namedropping a completely random person who has no prior significance unless it’s going to turn up later

this entire show has consisted of namedropping random people and things with no prior significance within the show itself and it remains entirely unclear whether they’re ever going to have significance within the show itself

look, I can buy Ahsoka not wanting to train the kid both for her stated reasons and for some implied stuff from earlier on in canon (the kids in the Ahsoka novel, the babies from Future of the Force), even what happened with Ezra, and obviously she has Plans and cannot haul a baby around with her when that baby is going to be a baby for an indeterminate amount of time

which honestly is something that ought to come up because even if Ahsoka wanted to train the kid by the time she grew old and died he might, if we were very lucky, have advanced to being essentially a pre-teen and then would be on his own again? this is also true for Din.

lol sure go cast yourself out into the Force, I’m sure there’s absolutely not a single darksider still wandering around the galaxy who might perk up at “ooh, free apprentice!”

I’m literally starting to think that this show takes place in an alternate universe where Luke and Leia either don’t exist or died at some point in the OT

me, baffled, last season: you’re telling me Cara Dune, Alderaanian, had never heard of the Jedi? was she not keeping up with whatever Leia Organa was doing? was the Rebel Alliance actually big enough that PEOPLE IN IT HADN’T HEARD OF LUKE SKYWALKER?

what...is Luke doing right now. isn’t he training Leia?

WHAT HAS AHSOKA BEEN DOING FOR TEN YEARS are we seriously supposed to believe she peaced out of the Rebel Alliance after Malachor and whatever the hell they’re going to make that out to be (honestly at this point I’m betting on “they will never touch it”)

does or does Ahsoka not know that Luke exists

hoo boy can you just see them trying to cast a younger Luke, or do you think they’d CGI de-age Mark Hamill?

oh yeah let’s go through this again in a season with someone else playing young Luke, let’s, I’m not emotionally invested in that so I’m prepared to be entertained

hasn’t Sebastian Stan been floated (even if just on Twitter) for young Luke?

why are these not-imperials on this planet. what are they doing here. what’s the point.

why is the planet...being burned? I was half-expecting, like, normal deforestation (in terms of logging for lumber) but I’m also a bit ??? about this.

since when is beskar resistant to lightsabers, I thought cortosis was the only thing that was? whatever, it’s new canon, they can do whatever they want. (ETA: apparently that’s been true for a while; I am more a Jedi person than a Mandalorian one as far as the EU goes and my Mandalorian lore is my weakest point.)

dear god were these fight scenes bad

I did spot Morai and I appreciated the tookas

okay, I am taking the next thing out of bullet points because I was really, really upset by it, and as an Asian-American woman it affects me directly.

I was really, really shaken by the use of village of (space) Asian people who were portrayed solely as background victims to be tortured and exploited. Star Wars has a long history of Orientalism, and some of it I can look away from and some of I can’t. Mando especially has a very bad track record with its treatment of Asian characters (Fennec Shand), and in recent years the rest of Star Wars live action has also been pretty bad about it; I will never forget how shaken and upset I was by Paige Tico’s death at the beginning of TLJ, and Rose’s sidelining in TROS was a lot to deal with. There has also been some pretty appalling anti-Asian racism from the Mandalorian fandom that I have seen in regards towards casting rumors about Sabine (which brought me to the point of tears as recently as yesterday).

I had been braced for Rosario Dawson Ahsoka because it’s been rumored for so long, if never officially confirmed by Lucasfilm, and after they pulled the original VA for Leia from Resistance a few years ago (without ever making an official statement but it was after she made really dismissive statements during the Kavanaugh hearings) I was still really hoping they’d pull Dawson for the transphobic assault allegations, or that the rumors were false, or...something. I was not expecting the way that they treated the Asian civilian population here. I kept hoping that there was going to be something, and it’s like they kept almost going there with Governor Wing (you want to make either his name or his position clear in the actual episode, maybe?) but then kept pulling back, which just made the whole population victims that had to be rescued by outsiders. And exploited, and tortured, and abused in general.

And yes, I’m aware the Magistrate/Morgan Elsbeth is an Asian-American woman. That doesn’t make it better? Since Ahsoka presumably kills her offscreen?

(Also Diana Lee Inosanto is a stunt performer and a fight choreographer, why is that fight scene so wooden, damn.)

okay back to bullet points to wrap up

I realize I haven’t said much about Din and the kid and that’s because they didn’t...do...much? I guess if you’re actually invested in them “YAY HE HAS FEELINGS” is a major thing but I’m not

I have flashes of being invested in Din, but the problem is that I never know what the hell this show is doing because it’s all over the place. We are 5/8 of the way into season 2 and I have no idea what it’s trying to do: they keep setting stuff up and then not doing anything with it. I can make vague predictions based on what’s set up and based on my knowledge of canon, but this show is so weirdly set up and paced that I can never tell if they’re something for A Reason, for the lulz, or for the Aesthetic.

I feel extremely vindicated by the revelation a few weeks ago that Din grew up in a cult but I also straight-up feel like I spent the past year being gaslighted about what Mandalorians were, and that’s...not a great feeling. Do I think that the show is going to do anything with that? Fuck, I don’t know. I hope so. I know what I’d do as a writer. But I can’t predict anything they’re doing and that makes me really uneasy.

jeez, at least when George Lucas was making Star Wars you knew he was doing it to entertain himself and tell a specific story rather than constantly having to go back and wonder what story lines got compromised for a project down the road.

like, is this why they did mo-cap Ahsoka in S7, to brace us for live action Ahsoka here? I know they had already filmed Mando S2 before S1 came out. WHY THEY DIDN’T THEY REUSE LAUREN MARY KIM AS AHSOKA’S STUNT DOUBLE THEN? it’s not like she hasn’t stunted in Mando before?

if this was supposed to be a backdoor pilot to a Rebels sequel...I will flip a table

I enjoyed the Bad Batch eps in TCW S7 but knowing that there’s going to be a Bad Batch show I’m now wondering if they’re only in S7 to backdoor pilot that show

how far back does this go? did they put the Legacy of Mandalore story line in Rebels S4 solely to set up for this? especially considering that that’s the one thing in S4 that actually has saga weight and then they immediately got rid of everything it accomplished to set up for this?

I presume that this is the reason they refused to release the turnaround for Ahsoka’s epilogue look two years ago. apparently it doesn’t matter given they changed her entire epilogue color scheme and also her lekku and personality.

Look -- at the end of the day, there was only about a 2% chance I was ever going to like this episode, but I was holding out for it nevertheless. I do get surprised from time to time! I liked the Bo-Katan episode! This was, however, a hot mess. And yes: a lot of the things that bother me are not going to bother other people. (I haven’t seen anyone comment on the Asian villagers, for example.)

#just so there is no doubt: I HATED THIS EPISODE #the mandalorian spoilers #bedlam watches the mandalorian #mando the jedi

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