#space buir

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Lazy Headcanons (feel free to share yours)

I really like the idea of lazy headcanons for muses. It can be intimate or just their plain guilty pleasure wherein nothing (apart from work and emergencies) would ever pry them off it.

Plo Koon:

Plo Koon's thirst for knowledge is probably as thirsty as I am for him (and puzzles). If he's down with a good book that's really got him hooked of something his centuries of season haven't stumbled across, he's not above having to raise a finger and make you wait till he finishes the last remaining pages or just so until he can reread the section of that got him really hooked or confused.

I'd like to think Plo (at least my version of Plo) is also into puzzles and board games like chess, checkers, game of the generals (kekekke) and such. He's got about 1238912839128391 ways to make a move but would ponder so heavily on that one killer shot and wouldn’t really pay much attention to you but wouldn acknowledge your presence with "Mmmms...." and "I see."

This isn't much of a headcanon because it is canon when he handed of C-3PO to Wolffe.

He'd happily pass having you entertained by someone else if he's not interested or if he's about to indulge in some solo-reading bonanza or would rather not be interrupted on any of his personal wind-down activities.

Meditation is a must for our Baran Do Sage Master Jedi short King ♥ I HC that he'll write a note over the door of his chambers just so his boys know not to invite him in the usual 104th foolishness at least for the day. No sign means they're welcome to barge in (hopefully not as this worries Plo so much that his boys will eventually ingest so much Dorin gas they'd get sick. But has not the heart to lock up because boys are like cats clawing at the door when Buir has been in there far too long) while sign means Wolffe has to have extra headaches today.

Plo Koon requires little management when it comes to nourishing himself because he's tapped so much into the force it basically nourishes him. But in times when he can actually indulge in consuming food, he really savors and enjoys it. Given he does this in his private chambers, but who's to say he's not doing it all soaked in a bubble bath with scented candles and some good tunes? ♥

He has an old phonograph-like device handed down from generations to generations. A Koon phonograph from his father's father's father's.

And in the event that the Wolves are indeed persistent (as there is no 'Meditating on-going sign') and are so adamant to check on whether Plo Koon is still alive, he will do little to no protest and just be in his tub with a tray over, Dorin delicacies with his mask off and assure the boys that he is not depressed, sad, troubled, annoyed at them, ill, or anything apart from his best self.

He does this in his most very tired dad-voice and is all "Yes, yes, Commander Wolffe, I am unharmed. I simply wish to eat my dinner in peace." He sighs as the rest of the Wolves puff up trying to not inhale Dorin gas and Wolffe tries, tries, to do the same.

Comet passed out on the floor and Sinker and Boost about to panic and sound the alarm.

Warthog quietly picking a morsel from Plo's plate.

[hastalavistabyebye]

I'm seeing a lot of posts about Leia and her parents. And here's the thing, there is three ways to see it. First of all, Leia is inherently Bail and Breha's daughter. She is both of them.

But it doesn't encapsulate everything she is. There's a missing piece. So either that's just her creating herself, which legit really. Or it can be Padme and Anakin's traits like I saw a *lot* of time. I don't like that. She never knew them, Vader litteraly blew up her entire planet, people and family. Why would they have any kind of influence in her personality ? Apart for trauma I guess.

So we end up to the third possibility (and one of the reasons I love bail/breha/fox) : Leia is Fox's too. And here you go. All her mannerisms, habits, knowleges explained. She is Bail, Fox and Breha's daughter and that's why she can be like that.

[ddejavvu]

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

[veny-many]

Related AU work

I realized that not all Wolfpack had met Plo yet.

And here's how they are doing alright!

(With best space buirs)

Shaak: You will be alright, children. Get some rest. I will be back.

Shaak: *comms on*

Shaak: <ATTENTION: If you found any children who seems to be running away or hiding, report to me IMMEDIATELY>

Mace: <Well, here we go again>

Obi-wan: <How many reports do you need?>

Shaak: <YES>

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

AFS: Deleted Scene

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares from PTSD, accidental injury, blood, angst and comfort

Word Count: 2,873

Summary: A night on the town is interrupted by a night terror. [aka someone told me I should write a scene where Grogu has a nightmare and cries out for the reader and I went WAY overboard lol.]

#9.5: MA'S GOT YOU

.

The house was quiet and as Din sat on his couch, holopad in hand and helmet off, he realized this had been his existence prior to your arrival. Grogu was down for bed and Din was alone. It’s not that he minded time alone. He craved it, really. There was only so much social interaction he could manage before he needed time to himself. It wasn’t a fault to the friends he kept, it was simply how he was built. Which is why it spoke volumes that Din wished you were here.

It was your presence he missed. It’s not like he needed you around him at all times of the day. Din was positive you needed your space away from him and others as well, but he just liked the energy you seemed to carry with you. Din wanted to be alone⏤ together. Both doing separate things, enjoying your own time, but in the same vicinity. He just wanted to know you were near and he still hadn’t decided if that was pathetically clingy of him or not. Din never felt like that before with a grown person so it was hard to find a comparison. 

Tonight was his night off of call and you were out with Nima. Din was happy that you agreed to spend time with your not cousin because he didn’t want you to think you couldn’t have a life separate from him. The thought that you might eventually resent him and feel trapped was terrifying. No, he wanted you to live your life as you normally would.

On your way out, you had told him not to wait up for you, but Din was currently perched on his couch in his pajamas doing exactly that. He’d never admit it to you. When you did find your way home he would feign surprise and act like he had been too caught up in reading to realize the time. Din just wanted to make sure you got home safe. It’s not that he didn’t trust you⏤ you were a grown and responsible woman. It’s the rest of the world, Din didn’t trust. Old habits, die hard, he supposed.

His eyes scanned a few more lines of the story he had chosen only to stop when a very quiet, whimper drifted through the air. Din had left his bedroom door open while Grogu slept. He set the holopad aside and padded across the living room toward the hall's entrance. Another familiar whimper followed by a pained cry and Din was sprinting. When he got to his room, Grogu was thrashing in his hammock and every item in the room, save for the large pieces of furniture, were hovering in the air. A side effect Din hadn’t seen since Grogu’s last nightmare ages ago.

“Ad’ika! Gar cuyir morut'yc!” Din cried, but if Grogu heard him it did nothing to ease the child’s mind. He crossed the room, but the moment his hand reached out to grasp the boy a wall of energy body slammed him back. Din fell over the corner of his bed and landed roughly on his back with a grunt. He recovered quickly, rolling to his feet, and tried again. Three times. Din got blown back three more times. One of which he felt the back of his head crack against his bed frame, momentarily making his world spin, before he got through to Grogu. His hands wrapped around the crying boy, pulling him from the hammock into his chest, and cocooned him between his arms while murmuring reassurances. 

There is nothing to fear.

You are safe.

I am here.

Eventually, in a sharp hiccup, Grogu’s cries stopped and his eyes snapped wide open. All the objects in the air clattered to the ground leaving the room looking as if a storm had blown through. Din cradled the back of his son’s head as he swayed in a slight rocking motion.

“Buir, safe?” Grogu whimpered as he reached his hand up.

Din leaned closer so Grogu could find the comfort he needed in touching his cheeks and jaw. He nodded. “I’m safe. You’re safe.”

“Ma, safe?” Grogu whimpered again and tried to crawl out of Din’s arms to look around the room. “Ma!” He yelled and when he wasn’t immediately answered the boy began to cry again. “Ma!”

“She’s safe, Grogu.” Din rubbed his back. “I swear, she’s safe. You had a nightmare. Ma is okay.”

This did not appease the boy who began to howl and scream in a panic. Din tried to explain that you weren’t here right now, but you’d be back. You were just spending time with Nima. However, Grogu who was still trapped in a post-nightmare daze was not having it. He wanted⏤ No, needed to see you. Make sure you were safe with his own eyes. Din could understand the sentiment, but it didn’t make the situation any easier. 

After a minute more of his son suffering, Din caved and grabbed his communicator. Maybe if Grogu could just hear your voice. He dialed your frequency number and when you picked up neither of you could even usher out a greeting with Grogu’s cries.

“Grogu??” You asked, your own voice panicked, “Mando⏤”

“He had a nightmare and he’s asking about you. I’m so sorry. I⏤”

“I’m on my way.” You blurted with no further preamble. 

The communicator line went dead and Din went back to fruitlessly trying to calm Grogu down. He drifted out to the living room to find his helmet so you’d be able to come in without concern. Din winced as it locked in place and the pressure at the back of his head reminded him that he had taken quite the hit earlier. Din wasn’t quite sure how you pulled it off, but five minutes after the call you were bursting through the front door.

“Grogu?”

“Ma!” Grogu was a blubbering mess when you stepped into view, and he nearly leapt from Din’s arms to yours. In the same way Din had cradled Grogu to his chest earlier, you held him close to you. Grogu was hiccuping as his hands roamed your features. “Ma, safe?”

“Yes, baby boy.” You smiled down at him. “I’m safe. I promise. Everything is okay.”

Grogu shifted to bury his face in your neck and you rubbed his back. Din felt his entire body slump with relief. The last time Grogu had a nightmare was back when they had first moved into this house. Since living here, they had slowed until they eventually came to a stop. Din wondered what brought this on. He watched you, hypnotized, as you hummed under your breath and swayed until Grogu’s whimpered breaths turned even. Din could garner a guess. He’d be a liar if he said the thought of losing you hadn’t slipped into his own night terrors. You were new in their lives, your importance increasing by the day, and there was no love without fear. It was the price to pay for a connection. 

“We can try to set him down now that he’s calm.” Din whispered. If he could get Grogu settled again then maybe you could get back to your night out. He hated that he interrupted it.

You gave him a small nod, and Din turned to lead the way back to the bedroom. However, as soon as he turned he heard you gasp loudly, “Fuck, Mando!” He whirled back around⏤ panicked. Was Grogu alright? He hadn’t heard you cuss like that in such a sharp and worried tone. Din rushed forward and settled a hand on Grogu’s back and the other on your elbow. You shook your head and shoved him back a step before spinning him around. “You’re bleeding!”

Din breathed out a sigh of relief. You were fine. Grogu was fine. It was just his head trauma that startled you. He chuckled. “It’s fine. Hurts some but⏤”

“The back of your shirt is covered in blood, you psycho! Don’t tell me it’s fine!” Din reached back and touched his shirt. It had felt damp, but he assumed it was wet with his sweat. When he pulled his hand back his fingers shone with red. Oops. “Go. As soon as I get Grogu down, I can⏤”

“No.” Din said quickly. Your eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly held a hand up in argument. “I’ll dress it. It’s not bad. I don’t even have a headache.” That was a lie. He could definitely feel the beginnings of a possible concussion, but he wasn’t about to admit that to you. “Head wounds just bleed a lot. Take care of Grogu. Please.”

You didn’t immediately reply. He watched you chew on your lower lip in thought, and it wasn’t until Grogu softly whimpered that you gave in. You sighed, giving him a hardened look, before nodding once. This time Din motioned you to walk first so you wouldn’t have to stare at his bloody shirt. He let his hand linger on your back as the three of you made your way towards the bedrooms. Din followed you in, mostly to grab a spare shirt, and he paused on his way out just so he could watch you rock Grogu while whispering words of comfort to the boy. It wasn’t until you glanced his way with a light glare that he realized he was transfixed.

“Please go patch up your broken head.” You hissed.

Din chuckled and slipped away.

It had been a struggle to change out of your day clothes into something more comfortable because Grogu refused to let you set him down to do so. You had dressed up to go out with Nima, and more than anything you just wanted to be in comfy clothes. Somehow you managed it, and you drifted back to Mando’s room. You didn’t know what startled you more: getting a call from Mando and hearing Grogu’s hysteric cries or watching the man turn his back to you and seeing his white shirt stained with blood. Both had been jarring and it hadn’t been where you thought your night on the town would end. Still, you didn’t quite mind. Nima had you meeting new people tonight and it had been kind of exhausting.

You tried to set the sleeping boy back into his hammock, but the second you pulled him from your chest he whined until you hugged him again. You turned your head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his with a small smile, “You’re okay, baby. Ma’s got you.”

You wondered what kind of Maker awful nightmare the boy could have had that scared him so badly. Mando had mentioned the kid had nightmares in the past, but this was the first time you had been witness to one. As you bounced him lightly, keeping yourself moving while patting his back, you glanced around the room in surprise. It was a disaster. Mando was shockingly neat and organized, and you had never seen his room in such disarray. Even his armor was scattered about instead of carefully placed where he usually kept it.

“What happened here?” You thought aloud. You wondered if it had anything to do with the injury Mando sustained. As if willed by your thought alone, Mando breezed into the room. He had changed shirts and the new one he wore had long sleeves. For a second, you mourned the loss of being able to see his arms then reminded yourself you should not be drooling over the sight of him. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mando walked closer so he could stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow. “That it?”

Mando chuckled. “I fell. Hit my head, and there was a little gash. Sprayed it with bacta and it’s fine.”

“It doesn’t need stitches?” You pressed. He shook his head. “Are you sure, though?”

“I’m positive. How’s he?”

“Won’t let me set him down.” You replied. “What even… What happened, Mando?”

Apparently this was just as his other night terrors had been. When they came, it was always hard to wake Grogu from them and the Force seemed to bubble around him in self defense. That was why his room looked like a bomb had gone off and how he ended up with a gash at the back of his head.

“Poor baby.” You sighed.

Mando tilted his head at you. “Are you referring to me or the kid?”

“The kid.” You laughed. “I’d give you a ‘poor baby’ too, but apparently you’re fine.” Mando let out that breathy, chuckle that always seemed to send a thrill up your spine. “Is he gonna be okay, you think?”

Mando reached out and rubbed the back of Grogu’s head. “Yeah. He’s tough. Resilient. I just hate that he went through so much in his life.” There was a beat of silence where the two of you just listened to Grogu’s quiet snores. “Hey.” Mando’s voice sounded startled. “What are you wearing?”

“Pajamas?” You glanced down at yourself.

“Where did your… Aren’t you going to go back out?”

“Probably not.”

Mando sighed, his shoulders drooping, “Cyar’ika, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“You didn’t ruin my night.” You scoffed with a chuckle. “Grogu needed me.” You rolled your eyes. “Besides, I think Nima was trying to find me a date and I wasn’t really too interested in that.”

Mando crossed his arms and bobbed his head. “You, uh, you aren’t? Interested in… in dating?”

“Are you interested?” You asked in return, but panicked as the words left you. “Not in⏤ Not in me. I meant, like, interested in dating in general. With anyone.” Unable to stop the flow of words, you kept going. “I just… If you needed me to babysit so you could go on a date. Not that⏤ Not that it would even be considered babysitting because I’m the nanny. Yeah.”

Mando shook his head, that same breathy laugh making your face warm, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You turned to see if you could get Grogu into his hammock partly because your arms were tired but also because it gave you an excuse to hide your burning face. Same as before, the second he was separated from you he began to fuss.

“Here.” Mando motioned toward you with his hands. “Let me see if I can take him.”

Grogu seemed to recognize his father’s hands and shifted to Mando, but he had only settled for a second before realizing he had been moved away from you. Grogu sat up and spun to look for you. When his eyes landed on you, he cried out a mumbled ‘Ma’ and you let out a soft laugh before opening your arms to him again. He fell into your chest and Mando sighed.

“Maybe he’ll…” You cleared your throat. “Can I sit on your bed, or…?”

“Lay down.” He corrected you with a shake of his head. “Get comfortable.”

You hesitantly drifted over to his bed and crawled into the same spot you slept in the last time you fell asleep beside him. Last time, you had been groggy and tired and had fallen into sleep without thought, but you felt wide awake now. You shifted so you could lay Grogu down on his belly, but when he began to fuss you draped your arm over him to let you know you were still here. That seemed to settle him.

Mando nodded toward the door. “You should stay here. I can take your bed or the, uh, the couch.”

You furrowed your brow. “No.” He stiffened and you blamed the few drinks you had for your lack of self control when it came to speaking. “I just mean, you can stay here. It’s your bed. The bed is big enough, right? That’s what you told me last time.”

“I suppose I did.” Mando chuckled.

He carefully sat down on the other side of the bed and drew up the blankets so it covered the three of you. Mando laid on his side, holding his head up in his hand, while his other settled on Grogu’s back right below yours.

“Shoot.” You whispered. “Your helmet? It’d be better for you to sleep with it off considering you’re injured.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“When Grogu is sleeping more soundly I can leave⏤”

“I said,” Mando emphasized his words, “Don’t worry about it, cyar’ika.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“That’s funny coming from you of all people.”

Your lips curled up in a smile and the silence that settled around the two of you was warm and comfortable. Before you knew it, sleep crept up on you.

Din felt settled.

Grogu was safe. You were safe. He was safe. More than just safe, he had the two of you within arm’s reach which he realized was exactly where Din always wanted both of you to be. Cautiously, nervous to wake you up on accident, Din lifted his hand from where it was on Grogu’s back and set it on top of yours. A little sigh slipped from your lips and mingled with the sounds of Grogu’s soft snores. Din smiled to himself.

Everyone was home and safe.

mando'a translations:

Ad’ika: little one

Gar cuyir morut'y: You're safe

Cyar'ika: Sweetheart, Darling

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99

[padawansuggest]

Took a shower (thank the lord right) and accidentally created a new AU in my noggin be warned this one is super wild. Includes: Baby-Wan and ouchies and time travel

Obi-Wan goes back in time (whatever maybe he did it himself maybe someone did it to him maybe he did it on accident but it’s post ANH okay) and suddenly finds himself in his toddler body.

You know what his first thought is? Cody. And absolute grief because his soulmate HAD been there in the force with him but now he’s gone. So what does Cody make him think of? Jango. Which means he’s all ughhhhhhhhh I have to go save him, and manages to mindcontrol some guy into getting him off planet. So here he is four whole years old with all the adult emotions trapped in a baby body what can go wrong??? Pirates. Obviously.

Frankly the only reason he doesn’t feel bad about the guy he mind controlled cause he was already gonna end up here so. Whoops.

So who manages to find them of all the damn people? Jaster’s entire ship headed to Korda Six (yes I’m going there the force said ‘I’m gonna give the gays everything they want’ and started with a happy baby’) but having been waylaid by a sudden four year old WITH A KNIFE AND FERAL STUPIDITY on the bridge. He says his name is Cody, he cut Montrose on his calve and it IS gonna require surgery and he bites everyone. Especially Jango. Who is only ten and crying because an ik’aad bit him and Jaster is very torn between giving Jango kisses for his ouchie and helping catch the toddler that knows how to escape through vents and is staging a one toddler zero men mutiny and is loudly telling everyone he’s going to the Jedi.

Maybe he’s possessed. Maybe they can just take him to the Jetii for a quick exorcism and play blaster-armor-saber for who gets the honor of adopting his feral ass.

Till they come across a pirate ship beating up a stranded ship and that’s just not nice so well shit they gotta save them.

Which is how they end up with a traumatized Captain and a stowaway toddler who’s demanding to see Jango once he realizes what ship he’s on. Jango is grumpily dragged in to see him, gets baby attached to his chest (listen he is so over babies now you can let go anytime he’s not interested in getting bit again) and then the vent to the medical room and a feral toddler with a knife comes flying out and demands to get his love back right this fucking instant.

Jaster finally gets a hold of him, disarms him, and puts him in time out before asking who taught him that word that’s not an ad’ika word!

Cody, repentant because adult emotions in a baby body fills you up so much, cries and asks for cuddles. Jaster gives him cuddles before putting in on a cot with Obi-Wan who promptly forgets Jango exists and gives Cody shy baby kisses and holds his hand. Jango is relieved to not be the center of attention for a moment. Till Jaster promptly realizes no one told Obi-Wan who Jango is, why did Obi ask for him?? Obi says he’s a Jetii master trapped in a baby’s body.

Yeah so possession it is. They call up the Jetii and ask if they can come over for exorcisms n chill, the Jetii say they can give them one better can you plz pick up some stranded Jetii along the way? Don’t worry they can assess the situation and see if they need to come in for it. It’s Master Windu and Padawan Billaba! What a surprise! Obi had no idea this could be so easy!

Anyways. So he’s having trouble talking because let’s just say I’ve decided so, so he sorta throws his mental shields down and starts projecting at people, which along with giving EVERYONE a headache, instead of just Mace for once, gives the force the chance to snap a BUNCH of bonds in place. Like a master-apprentice bond with Mace. And vod’e bonds with Depa and Jango. And a Buir bond with Jaster. And a full fledged soulmate bond with Cody.

Anyways. Mace thinks he’s decided three things: he’s gotta (not wants to, but has to) get the senate to let them make an outpost in Mandalorian space so him and Obi can be with Obi’s new dad and family, he does NOT want to be a council member anymore because this is a fucking mess that’s gonna turn into a 6 day meeting for them, and yes, they need to go to the temple.

Anyways. Make Cody a small child and give him a knife is my solution to a lot of things actually.

[morgan-n-cheese-91]

Jango, just trying to read his space newspaper: 👓🤨📰

Boba plus the gaggle of CC's and 17: 🥺

Jango: no no no do not give me those eyes

Boba: Please buir🥺🥺🥺🥺

The rest of the gaggle: yeah please buir🥺🥺🥺

Jango: ugh fine

[risingmoonyue]

Okay but imagine the vode are assigned by the Ancient And Most Noble Jedi Tradition of dibs

Obi-Wan, reporting the existence of the clones: I would like to start right off the bat and say I claim first dibs

Kit, protesting on instinct: objection!!!!!

Plo, whose buir senses are tingling: i call second dibs

---

Yoda: dibs, I call

Mace: you take that back!!!

Yoda: slow, you are. hurry you must, if dibs you want.

---

Anakin and Ashoka, clinging to Rex: DIBS!!!!!! WE CALL DIBS!!!!!!!!!

Rex, who is Very Tired: sirs please let go

---

Cody, later: ,,,,,isn't there a war????

Obi-Wan, watching the temple being set on fire from people calling dibs and bull while eating space popcorn: yes but this matter is important.

Cody: How???????

Obi-Wan: dibs is a Very Serious Most Noble And Honored Tradition of the jedi

[dyns33]

Mando’a

A sweet Mandalorian story, with a sweet idiot Din and his son

The Mandalorian, Din Djarin, was a man of honour.

No, more than that, he was a good man.

Y/N had known it almost immediately, seeing him with the child. He held him like a father held his son, and at first she thought they were related by blood, and that the bounty hunter was green under his helmet.

In the end, Grogu was indeed his son, but adopted, and the Mandalorian was ready to sacrifice everything for him. Except maybe his job, because he needed money to buy food for the kid.

So he had to keep hunting down dangerous individuals, and he didn't like the idea of ​​leaving the child alone, nor the idea of ​​taking him with him.

So that was how he hired Y/N, after saving her from a drunken man in a cantina, and seeing that she and Grogu seemed to be getting along well.

           "I will pay you, of course." he promised.

           "If I can sleep and eat, and you're not hurting me, then taking care of this adorable baby is enough for me. You helped me after all, it's normal that I'm doing you a favour."

           "I insist."

Din didn't insist long, perhaps not to offend her, seeing that she wouldn't change her mind. Y/N really didn't mind just following him and staying with Grogu. She had always dreamed of adventures.

Despite everything, the Mandalorian seemed to find it necessary to show her his gratitude as often as possible, offering her several gifts, such as new clothes, a weapon to defend herself when he was not around, then a chainmail in Beskar, like the one his son was wearing.

           "I thought only Mandalorians were allowed to wear Beskar !" she said, wondering if this was a test.

           "The Mandalorians and their clansmen. I... You... You are my cya... my burc'ya. You deserve to wear dignified armour, which will protect you."

           "It's a real honour, Mando ! I'm happy to be part of your clan !"

           "Din. My name is Din."

After that, there were fewer gifts, but lots of lovely attentions. No doubt in Mandalorian custom, the leader had to make sure the other members of the clan were happy, healthy and safe.

As with Grogu, Din always made sure Y/N was okay. He always seemed nervous when he had to leave the ship, and he only relaxed when he came back and found them where he had left them, playing or sleeping.

Adoring his father as much as the Mandalorian adored him, Grogu threw himself into his arms every time he saw him.

           "I'm glad to see you too, ad'ika. You were good ? You didn't do too much mischief ? You will always be nice to your buire, uh ?"

           "Pato !"

           "Yes, that's good. I'll keep him, rest cyare."

           "But you just arrived, you..."

           "No." Din said, putting a finger to her mouth. "I know the little one. My mission certainly wasn't as exhausting as him, get some sleep."

At first Y/N slept alone, or with Grogu. The Mandalorian had made a bed for her in a corner of the ship, her own space, so she could have some privacy.

Then she had had a nightmare and to reassure her, the three of them had slept together. Then there had been a problem with the temperature controller, and they had huddled together so they wouldn't freeze to death until they got to a planet to fix it. Of course, Y/N still got sick and Din took care of her until she was better.

After that, without them talking about it, they ended up always sharing the same bed.

Y/N had been travelling with him for several months when Din gave her the necklace that indicated they were from the same clan, before removing his helmet to show her his face.

She was pretty sure he had no right to do this, even with his clansmen.

           "You are my cyare, and Grogu is my ad'ika. It is permitted."

           "Really ?"

           "Of course. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

Y/N smiled tenderly, nodding, which seemed to please him, and smiling as well, he leaned his forehead against hers.

That was the only small problem with Din.

He often spoke Mando'a, obviously without realizing it, and forgetting that Y/N didn't understand at all what he was saying. But she always tried to guess.

He was certainly polite. Kind. As always.

But nothing more.

His arms around her when he slept, his hand caressing her cheek when he had to leave, his smile when he looked at her, his forehead against hers, it meant nothing. Not what she would hope for, anyway.

When he was talking about her, Din was using a lot of words. At first it had been 'burc'ya', but soon it changed to 'cyare' or 'mesh'la'.

With Grogu, she became 'buire'.

When they met someone, she was 'riduur'.

Y/N dared not ask what that meant. Clan member, babysitter ?

She sometimes talked about it with the little one, who didn't really seem to be listening, or understanding, even if sometimes he would turn his little head towards her, and with his big eyes he seemed to say to her 'you are ridiculous, really ridiculous'.

It was Din who had explained that expression to him. Grogu often looked at him like that, with good reason. The child looked at his father like that when he was giving Y/N a nickname, and when he was offering her something, and when he was stammering, asking if he could hold her hand to not lose her in the crowd.

Grogu was still making that face when they arrived at the Armourer's. Din had found some Beskar and she was the only one who could make something useful out of it, for him or for other Mandalorians.

It was much harder than with Din to know what she was thinking behind her helmet, but she seemed happy to see the child, and surprised to see Y/N.

           "Your clan has grown ?"

           "Yes."

           "Did you take your helmet off ?"

           "Only in front of my ad'ika and my riduur."

           "Married ? Congratulations. Come see me if she gets pregnant, I'll prepare presents for your children."

           "We're not there yet, but thank you. I don't know if Grogu will be happy to have vodes or if he will try to eat them."

The little one then turned to Y/N, who had frozen and he stared at her, as if he wanted to say 'Finally. Finally my stupid father has put words to his behaviour and my oblivious mother will be able to understand that they are married. I'm tired and hungry now, feed me '.

           "Uh..." she stammered as she approached the Mandalorians. "Married ?"

           "You didn't respect the custom ? You didn't exchange your vows ?"

           "I did !" Din replied, before sounded less sure. "Well, I said my vows. After courting her, showing her that I would be a good partner. She accepted them."

           "Obviously she doesn't know what she accepted."

           "I... Cyare, you...  Haar'chak !"

He kicked a crate before leaving the forge, leaving the Armourer, Y/N and Grogu, who ran towards her, asking to be hug.

As if everything was perfectly normal, the other Mandalorian resumed her work in silence, finishing melting the Beskar, but as Y/N went to follow Din, she called out to her without looking.

           "Leave him alone for a moment. He needs to understand his mistake, then he'll come back. He's not a coward or he wouldn't be a Mandalorian."

           "He really thought we were married ?"

           "Obviously. But if he wasn't clear, it's his fault. He won't blame you for not understanding, and for not wanting him."

           "... I didn't say I didn't want him."

           "Ah. Then maybe you two should talk. Leave the child with me, I'll watch him."

Y/N didn't dare tell her that Grogu was very good at evading people if he felt like it, but she left him near the Armourer before going to find Din, who was sulking near a cliff. His helmet was at his feet and yet it was hard to know if he was happy to see her.

           "...Trikayc, cyare. Sorry." he whispered. "I'm not good with words, I thought my intentions were clear. You seemed to appreciate my attentions. I shouldn't have assumed…You were just kind and polite. I'm sorry."

           "Actually... I also thought you were just nice and polite. If you had translated some of the words... Or if you had kissed me."

           "Mesh'la... You mean..."

           "Why didn't you ever kiss me, if we're married ?"

           "What ? But I kiss you all the time !"

Approaching her to prove it to her before she could tell him that she would remember if he had ever kissed her, and if he had done it when she was sleeping it didn't count and would be very weird, Din leaned his forehead against hers, looking her straight in the eyes.

Then he didn't move, looking very serious.

           "…Yes ? I'm waiting ?" decided to say Y/N after a long minute.

           "It's a Mandalorian kiss."

           "...Oh. Din, you're adorable. An adorable idiot."

Y/N kissed him then, not like a Mandalorian, and obviously it was the first time someone kissed the poor man, who jumped a little, before relaxing, melting a little when she put her hands on his cheek and neck.

           "Kriff, if I had known, I would have done this a long time ago."

           "In addition to the rest." Y/N sneered. "Even if it's a little hard in bed with..."

           "Pato !"

Unsurprisingly, they looked down to find Grogu standing between them, clutching his father's leg, demanding to be lifted.

Either he had escaped the Armourer's watch or she had let him go.

Despite his sigh, Y/N knew that Din was happy as he took the child in his arms. Grogu squealed with delight as she fiddled with his ear. He was smart, he knew they had finally stopped acting like idiots.

           "So I'm his bure ?"

           "Buire. His mother. Or relative."

           "Riduur ?"

           "My wife. Partner."

           "Cyare ? Mesh'la ?"

           "It's time to go."

           "Din !"

           "I'll teach you Mando'a, later."

After greeting the Armourer, who seemed relieved that they were indeed married, otherwise Din would have become an apostate, they flew to a new destination. During the trip, when Grogu was sleeping, Din explained his culture a little better to Y/N, teaching her a few words, when she wasn't teaching him new non-verbal ways to show that he loved her in the cockpit.

While they were embracing, he translated to her the vows he had pronounced during their 'wedding'.

           “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.”

           "That's terribly romantic... Wait. Raise warriors ?"

           "Yes. We already have a child of course, but one day he could have vodes and..."

           "Vodes ?"

           "... Brothers and sisters ?" Din said shyly, placing his hand on her belly. "If you want, of course !"

Yes, the Mandalorian was a man of honour. A good man, a wonderful father, an exceptional husband, and an adorably awkward lover, and Y/N had known it as soon as she had met him.

[vodika-vibes]

Can I request the second part to Abandon Ship, the one with Ordo.

Please and thank you

Love oo

She's My Everything

Summary: It’s been three months since he’s rescued her from Seppie space. Three months since he’s brought her home. And now that she’s safe and healing, Ordo allows his mind to turn away from healing and onto revenge.

Pairing: Ordo Skirata x F!Reader

Word Count: 2635

Warnings: Stalking, including stalking of a minor

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, this got long, lol. But here's the sequel to Abandon Ship. I hope you like it~

“She seems to be doing much better,” Kal-buir notes as he settles on a bench next to Ordo, both of their gazes locked on the young woman working through her physical therapy slowly.

“She has nightmares.”

“I’m not surprised.” Kal replies quietly. The two men fall silent as she loses her balance and falls over, though her doctor is right there to help her back on her feet. “Has she spoken to you about why she was there in the first place?”

“Nothing concrete. I don’t want to push her.” Ordo’s gaze slides from his cyare, over to his father, and then back again, “She’s been through so much. Too much.”

“You’re not wrong, but your brothers have run into a wall. They can’t go any further without more information.” Kal points out, his gaze calm.

Ordo exhales slowly, “I know. I don’t want to hurt her, buir.”

“You won’t. She’s stronger than you give her credit for, ad.” He stands when it looks like the physical therapy is ending, as her doctor carefully helps her back into her chair, and he lightly clasps Ordo’s shoulder, “Do what you think is best, Ordo. But have some faith in your girl. She doesn’t break easily.”

Ordo flashes a small smile towards his dad, and then focuses his attention back on his cyare, who is waiting in the center of the room for him and Kal to finish talking.

“She’s my everything, buir.” He admits with a surprisingly soft smile, that she answers with a tiny smile of her own.

Kal laughs, though there’s no judgment in it, just amusement. “I think, Ordo, that even a blind man could see that. You going to keep her waiting?”

Ordo rolls his eyes and finally gets to his feet to go to his waiting cyare. He reaches her with several long steps and immediately reaches out to wipe some sweat off of her cheek, “You did great today, cyar’ika.”

She shakes her head, “Not really.”

“One month ago you could barely walk at all.” Ordo points out gently, “And now look at you, you were walking for almost a whole forty-five minutes!”

“I should be able to walk for much longer.”

“Come on, cyare. Healing is a process.” He kneels so he’s not towering over her quite so much.

“I know, I know. I just wish it was a faster process.”

Ordo takes her hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her scarred knuckles. “I know you do. But even bacta doesn’t work miracles.” Her frustration at the situation melts as she gazes at him, which Ordo takes as a victory, small as it is. “Ready to head back to the room?”

She hums her agreement, though she hesitates and lightly turns her hand so she’s able to brush her fingers against his cheek, “Is everything alright?”

Ordo glances at her, curiously, “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Kal looked pretty serious.”

“That’s just his face, cyar’ika. He always looks like that.” She giggles and Ordo’s heart swells with adoration, he really doesn’t want to have this conversation. Though if it’s not him it’ll be one of his brothers, “As it happens,” he admits, once her giggles settle, “There is something, but it can wait until after you shower.”

“Ordo Skirata, are you implying that I smell?” She asks, mischief dancing across her pretty face.

“I would never,” Ordo replies with a grin as he stands and then ducks down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “As it happens, I think it’s super hot when you’re all sweaty-”

“You think I’m super hot all of the time.”

“Not my fault you’re gorgeous.” He moves to the side to let her turn her chair around. Even after three weeks, she still has some difficulty with the motorized wheelchair that she needs for the time being. She’s crashed into more than one door frame over the last couple of weeks.

Thankfully, she hasn’t burst into tears about it in well over a week.

If he thought it would help, he’d just push her around. But according to her physical therapist, and her actual therapist, she needs to control the chair herself. Something-something control over her space.

Ordo was listening, but the main takeaway was that she needs to know that she still has some independence. That the seppies haven’t taken everything away from her.

So, though it breaks his heart to watch her struggle, he stands to the side until she asks for help.

One of the best things about how their home is set up, is that the home he shares with his cyare isn’t too far away from the gym where she does her physical therapy.

His house is close enough that they don’t run into anyone else on the short walk.

Which is a good thing, Ordo thinks.

His brothers aren’t know for being particularly patient, and he’d rather have this conversation with her on his terms, rather than theirs.

Plus, if they made her cry he’d have to beat them, and that always leads to a bad day.

“How about you go and take a shower,” Ordo offers to his cyare, “And I’ll make us something light for lunch and then we can have a chat?”

“What kind of chat?”

“One that we need to have.” Ordo admits.

She shifts uncomfortably, “Is it...am I being too much of a burden on you?”

“What? No. Of course not,” Ordo lightly cups her cheek, “It’s an important conversation, one we need to have, and you’re not going to like it. But it’s nothing personal.” He reassures, “I’ll take care of you forever, cyare, you know that.”

Some of the tension drains from her shoulders.

“Cyar’ika,” He coos as he slowly kneels in front of her again, “Do you think you’re being a burden on me?”

“I...kinda. You had to rescue me and then spend all the time looking over me when I was in the clinic and now with the physical therapy-”

“Hey,” His other hand comes up and presses against her cheek as well, “I love taking care of you. Every part of it.”

“Even the embarrassing parts?”

“Even those.” Ordo swears, “I love you, cyare. And that means I’ll take care of you until you get tired of me.”

“As if I could.” She replies with a small smile.

“Well then, forever doesn’t feel like long enough, but it’s a good start.”

She sighs softly and turns her head to press a kiss against the palm of his hand, “Will you help me into the shower? I don’t think my doctor will be happy if I try to climb in on my own.”

“Of course.”

All Ordo needs to do, really, it offer her support to step over the side of the tub and get settled on the bench that buir had added to the shower when they leaned how badly injured her legs had been.

Honestly, it was almost a good thing that she was in the hospital for so long after her rescue since it gave his dad and brothers time enough to replace the shower stall with something more agreeable to her current needs.

Once he’s sure that she’s settled on the bench and he passes the shower head down to her, he leans in and presses a kiss against her lips, “Give a shout when you’re done. Do you want the chair to stay in here?”

She makes a face, “Better not. It’s kind of finicky about steam.”

“You could try not showering in water as hot as the lava of Mustafar.” Ordo replies sarcastically as he pushes the chair out of the room.

“You’re just jealous that you can’t take hot showers like me.”

“Jealous isn’t the word that I’d use,” He shoots back, before he shuts the door to keep the steam in the fresher and out of the bedroom. He knows his cyare, if he left the door open, she’d have the entire bedroom coated in a fine mist of damp.

30 minutes later, she’s clad in her softest pajamas, and is curled up on the couch with a bowl of soup sitting on the tray in front of her. Ordo has something a little more filling on his plate.

Another lingering side effect of her time with the seppies is the mandatory meal plan that she still has to follow.

Still, she’s finally put back some of the weight that she lost, and so many of her scars have faded to the point where he can only see them because he knows that they’re there.

Ordo’s glad for it.

Seeing her covered in scars and able to count her ribs due to starvation made him nearly homicidal.

She stirs her soup for no reason other than to watch it spin, and then she casts her gaze towards Ordo. “You said we needed to talk?”

“Yeah,” Ordo turns on the couch so he’s facing her properly, “We need to talk about what happened.”

She shifts, “I covered all of this with my therapist-” She starts.

Ordo blinks, and realizes his mistake, “Oh. No, not about the Seppies. You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”

It’s her turn to blink at him in confusion, “Then what?”

“About the orders you were given.” Ordo replies, “You’re an analyst, not a field agent. You shouldn’t have been sent to Raxus at all.”

“Oh.” she leans back and considers his words for a moment, “I don’t know. I really don’t.” She taps her spoon against the bowl as if considering how much to tell him, “There’s a system in place.” She finally says, “Designed to keep people like me from going out into the field. I guess there was a bug.”

Ordo frowns, he doesn’t like that answer. “Tell me about your supervisor.”

“I don’t know him that well. He stared about 6 months ago now. He was still learning the people under him. A bit quiet. Likes to be read in on everything. So I guess kind of a micromanager. But that never really bothered me.”

He taps his leg, there’s something about this situation that stinks. Ordo flashes the smallest smile, “Alright. Thank you.” He’s going to look into her supervisor.

There’s something rotten here, and he’s not giving up until he finds it.

“What, you think I get things wrong?” Jaing asks with a roll of his eyes, “It’s the place, and Ordo’s girl confirmed my intel.”

“Don’t call her that,” Ordo interrupts, “What do we know?”

“SIS Code name Talon,” Jaing reports, “Was a well respected field operative for years before he was promoted to a supervisory position due to an injury. He lives primarily on Coruscant, though for some reason has a home here, on the edge of separatist space.”

“Do we thing he is a Separatist?” Mereel asks as he examines the door.

“I found no evidence one way or the other. Which is why we’re here.”

“Nothing big, no explosives.” Ordo says, “We get in and get out.”

There’s a general murmur of assent, and Mereel kneels next to the door to pop the lock open. Where, exactly, his brother learned how to pick locks so effortlessly is something Ordo is going to be looking into, but for now he looks the other way.

The men file into the house and poke around for a few minutes, before Kom’rk moves to the middle of the room and looks around. “Something’s not right.” He announces.

The vod’e turn their gazes towards him.

“The inside of the house doesn’t match the outside.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then a flurry of movement while the men search the walls for a hidden door.

Mereel finds it before any of the others.

He steps into the small room and flips on the light switch. He says nothing for a long moment, and then there’s a loud, ugly, curse. “Ordo-”

Ordo steps into the hidden room and stops dead in his tracks.

There, covering the entire wall, are pictures of his cyare.

Hundreds of them.

He steps closer to the wall, his hands curling into fists as his gaze drags across the hundreds of pictures, most of them candid. Likely she didn’t know that her picture was being taken. His gaze stops on one picture. It’s his cyare when she was in high school.

This man has been stalking his cyare since she was a minor.

Ordo has to fight the urge to rip every single picture off the wall, though Mereel’s hand around his wrist keeps him from doing so.

“Breathe, vod.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Understandable, but let’s see what else we can find out.”

Ordo tenses, “This sick asshole has been stalking my cyare since she was a kid, and you want to find more-”

“Yes.” Mereel says, “I do.”

Ordo doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he rips his wrist from his brothers grasp, “I can’t be here for this.” He finally says.

Mereel nods his agreement, “Go wait outside. Maybe call your girl. I’ll let you know what we find.”

Ordo doesn’t respond he just takes one last, long, look at the wall dedicated to his cyare and then leaves the house. He walks down the street until he finds a tree he can sit under and he rips off his helmet and pulls his comm out of his pocket.

He dials up a comm code he knows by heart, and is soothed when you appear on the holo, “Cyare,”

“Ordo,” Her smile is warm and loving and she’s there and she’s safe, and it feels as though a rock lifts from his chest, “It’s not like you to call me while on a mission. Is everything alright?”

No. It’s not. At all.

“I just...wanted to see you. That’s all.” Ordo replies, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course. Kal has been very...doting.”

“He’s hovering, isn’t he.”

“He is, and it’s very sweet but a little stifling.” You say with a laugh.

Ordo laughs as well, “Well, then. Now I feel guilty for what I’m about to ask.”

“Ordo?”

“Can you stay with Kal-buir? Just until I come back.”

She stares at him, “Ordo, am I in danger?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. But-”

“Tell me what’s going on.” Her gaze is serious, and Ordo...can’t lie to her.

“We came to your supervisor’s secret home,” He admits, “Something about the situation didn’t feel right so we decided to investigate. He...cyare, he’s been stalking you. There are pictures of you going all the way back to your second year in high school.”

She doesn’t say anything, for a really long time.

And then, slowly, she exhales. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll stay with Kal until you return.” She reassures, her gaze is serious as she looks at him, “I know you Ordo, you’re going to handle this aren’t you.”

“He’s a threat to you and needs to be removed.” Ordo replies quietly.

“Be careful. Spies are dangerous in their own ways.”

“I will. I love you.”

Her smile is soft, “I love you too. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“I’ll see you then.”

The holo disconnects and Ordo sighs as he brings the small device to his forehead. He allows himself a moment, just a moment, of weakness. And then he’s stowing his comm and pulling his helmet back on.

He’s going to find out what the others have learned. And then he and his brothers are going to hunt down this pathetic excuse of a man.

And then he’s going to go home to her. To his cyare.

She’s his everything. Eventually people will learn what that means.

[moxie-girl]

um ok Strawhats Star Wars au (think like clone wars era-ish) where they’re all space pirates…

- Luffy is a force-sensitive Mandalorian foundling from a covert of True Mandalorians hiding bc the New Mandalorians currently control the planet (Shanks is his buir btw) (he’s standard human …?)

- Zoro is a former Jedi youngling who left after his crèche-mate and best friend Kuina died, he fights with two of his own lightsabers as well as Kuina’s white saber (he’s an oni-like species)

- Nami used to work for a group of bounty hunters/spice runners from an aquatic planet and was picked up by them after they took a bounty out for Bell-mere (she’s half aquatic species, half human, so Arlong’s crew like her even less…)

- Usopp is another Mandalorian from Luffy’s covert and a sniper who’s skilled with any weapon, but especially an energy slingshot he modified from an energy crossbow (he’s a near-human species notable for their long noses)

- Sanji is a modified clone who escaped from the cloning facilities as a kid, his siblings are an enhanced special ops team (think bad batch) and the rest of the clone army look pretty normal (black hair, no curly brows- those are a sign of enhancements) so most people don’t clock him as a clone at first

I’ll figure out the others later…

[dilf-din]

Suddenly

Chapter 1: Spring

Din Djarin x Florist!Reader

WC: 2100

Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic cuteness, no use of y/n but reader does have a nickname and is female presenting

A/N: I told y’all I was going to exploit this little house and the time has come. I was planning on this just being a little one shot, but I fell in love with the dynamic so it’ll be a short series, just 4 chapters! Listen to Venus by Sleeping at Last to get the inspo for this little story. Enjoy 💖

Chapter 2

After a while, I thought I'd never find you

I convinced myself that I would never find you

When suddenly, I saw you

“It’s good to have you back, Mando,” Karga smiled warmly sliding a bag of credits across the table in exchange for the cleared pucks he had brought into the High Magistrate’s office. Mando sat relaxed in a large leather chair across from Greef Karga, open arms draped lazily across the seat. He was tossing a small green fruit up into the air and catching it with a gloved hand listening to the man’s booming voice brag about the shops that would be opening in the newly renovated town square.

“We’d love to have you at the opening ceremony, you are a vital part of our economy here on Nevarro, after all.”

Mando hummed in response. “I’ll do my best to be there.”

While he did feel some sense of obligation to the man who had gifted him a house, he also didn’t do things that he didn’t want to. Karga knew that. For years their relationship had been a bit of a power struggle, but Mando always came out on top.

He looked over at Grogu who was quietly watching a children’s program on a holopad in the seat next to him.

“Time to go, kid,” he said, rubbing his ears gently.

Grogu nodded, lifting up the pad for his dad to tuck into the pack that hung on his hip. Mando tucked the bag of credits next to it and rose to shake Karga’s hand.

“Two days from now! I’ll save you and the little one a seat to watch the parade!” he called after the pair as they made their way out of his office.

When they stepped outside on the warm path, Grogu held his hands up and chirped, “Buir!”

Din chuckled and scooped him into the crook of his arm. “C’mere ad’ika.”

The morning sun climbed higher into the cloudless sky casting warm rays onto the crowded market place. Din’s boots made a padded thud as he marched down the black stone path towards the booths selling local treats and produce. A sea of voices chattering with the vendors, the smell of roasted meat in a sweet marinade, bright colored banners advertising their wares, Grogu loved coming to the market. His ears turned in every direction at each new voice, nose pointed up to follow the wafting scents.

Din purchased a dozen of his favorite sweet rolls, passing one to the child to munch on while he stocked up on the rest of the supplies they would need for the coming week. With a pack sufficiently full, Mando made his way to the edge of town, where he had parked the old speeder bike he bought off of the Anzellans. It wasn’t anything high tech, parts of it rusted with age, but it got them from their little cabin to the bustling town and back. The ride out was twenty minutes of silent bliss. Some scraggly trees and shrubs dotting the otherwise barren landscape, no other homes around for several kilometers. He reveled in the solitude. Din had considered planting a small garden come summer, something to add some color to the greys and browns.

He wiped his boots on the mat in front of the door before entering their small home. Grogu did a flip to the floor and took off after a ball Greef Karga had gifted him with. The cabin came fully furnished but minimally decorated. There was nothing about it that told you anything about who lived there other than the basket of toys that sat in the living area hinting at a small child’s presence. The kitchen and living area were connected in one large space, the only separation provided by a lengthy island across from the stove. Two bedrooms sat at the far end of the house separated by a bathroom in the middle. The second bedroom was made up for a guest if he ever had one. A bedside table with a lamp, an empty closet, a nice sized bed with white sheets covered in delicate grey leaves and vines. Din had purchased a bassinet for Grogu, it stayed tucked in the corner of the main suite he slept in. They preferred to sleep near each other after all their travels and time spent tucked in the sleeping nook of the Crest.

Grogu giggled and babbled about his ball, contentedly smacking it around the room, weaving in between the couch and arm chairs. Din chuckled to himself. The bag of groceries sat heavy on the counter, threatening to spill over at any moment, so he set to unpacking their little haul. Fresh fruit and bread laid out on the counter for easy access. Some meats and cheeses stocking their fridge unit alongside some of Grogu’s favorite juice. Din had even picked up a fresh bag of caf to brew from some far off, mid rim planet.

He breathed in, lungs full of thankfulness. When he first laid eyes on Grogu those years ago that felt like a lifetime, he never imagined their story playing out the way it had, that he would be so lucky as to live out a quiet life with him between jobs. Din felt like the puzzle was finally coming together. There was no box to match it to, but he could see the picture coming into focus with just a few missing pieces. He paid no mind to those blurred out areas, he was more than content, he was happy for the first time in his life.

Din stood behind the crowd, arms crossed over his beskar plated chest. Karga had Grogu in his lap as they watched the small parade circle around the town square. All the school aged children in bright colors waving and grinning, a few of the older kids from the secondary school beating drums and playing a light melody on flute. There were a few dancers and people handing out flowers and candies to the townspeople lining the street. Grogu was clapping and waving, that’s when Din saw you for the first time. His breath caught in his chest in an inexplicable way. Your hair was braided back with flowers tucked in carefully, a crown of daisies atop of your head. You had on a white, billowy shirt that hung off your shoulders tucked into a long, flowing turquoise skirt with a thick belt of brown leather separating the two garments. You were hand in hand with one of the younger kids, skipping along beside them. When you passed by the section they were watching from, you plucked the flower crown off of your head and set it atop Grogu’s.

“Buir!” he squealed in joy turning to face Din. Your eyes followed Grogu’s and you gave a small wave to the silver plated man before dancing further along the stone path.

Din felt a rush of heat to his cheeks, an ache in his chest he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling again until this moment. Suddenly, the blurry parts of the picture started to come into focus, and it looked a lot like you. No, this was crazy, he was jumping way too far ahead. He didn’t even know your name.

He didn’t even know your name, and yet he felt drawn to you, captivated by your kind smile, the gentle rhythm of your feet as you danced away. The lilt of your laugh carried to him on the breeze, and he knew he was a dead man. His gaze returned to Grogu who was bouncing with excitement, his little hands drawing up to touch the flowers resting on his head.

Din kicked off of the wall he was leaning against to bend his head into Karga’s earshot.

“Who was that?”

“That was my lovely new flower shop owner!” Karga beamed. “She just moved here from Naboo! I think she’s going to make this little town a lot prettier, ‘eh, Mando?” he asked with an elbow to the ribs.

Although he couldn’t see his face, Karga could imagine the exact expression painted across it and he laughed heartily before pointing out a juggler to Grogu.

Din leaned back against the wall with a slight shake of his head. The parade was nearing a close, and he wondered about seeking you out when the festivities died down.

He decided to make a few stops around the market before heading to see if you would be at your shop to speak to you. He tried to calm down the race of his heart as he assembled a small welcome basket to present you with. He tucked a black kerchief with delicate silver stars stitched across it into the bottom of a small, woven basket before filling it with a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of jam and local honey, a brick of hard cheese imported from another system, and a magnet that said “Welcome to Nevarro!” across a background of two volcanoes with a river of lava running between them.

What if you thought this was silly or too forward. He almost talked himself out of it, but his feet on autopilot pulled him to the front of your shop. “Bloom” stretched across the top of the large window in a curling font, the space below filled with blue and lavender floral arrangements. A small wooden sign that appeared to be hand painted swung above the door when he pushed it open. A small bell tinkled alerting whoever might have been there to his presence, so he decided it was too late to back down.

“Be right there!”

You were up on a stool, in the same white shirt as before, but paint covered overalls now hanging from your lower half. A paintbrush in hand as you carefully listed your prices in thin white paint strokes against the navy blue wall behind the register. From here he could see that top of what seemed to be a delicate geometric tattoo running the very center of your spine. You finished the number you were carefully outlining and hopped down, recognizing them instantly.

“Well hey you!” you smiled warmly at the pair approaching your counter. Grogu hopped up wiggling his little legs as he got his footing and waved at you. You knelt down to his level and waved back.

“Here,” Din said extending the basket, “I wanted to get you something to say thank you for today.”

Your eyes wide at the kind gesture, “Well thank you, but that isn’t necessary. It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t though.” Din hesitated, his words coming slowly as if carefully choosing them, “He’s had a very hard life, endured much more than anyone should have to, so anything or anybody that allows him to just be a kid is something I’ll always be thankful for.”

Your gaze softened even more somehow as you rubbed his soft head. Grogu leaned into the touch, big brown eyes squeezed tight.

“Well thank you again,” you trailed off, the empty space searching for a name.

“People call me Mando, and this is Grogu.”

You gave him your name with a smile, “But a lot of people call me Milla.”

“Like the flower?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Yeah, how do you know of millaflowers? Have you been to Naboo?”

“A handful of times. My work takes me all over the galaxy.”

“Well I’m sure you’re full of stories,” you grinned straightening up from where you had been bent over to talk to the child. “You’ll have to tell me some sometime.”

“I’ll be seeing you around I’m sure, I was thinking of planting a small garden soon. I’m sure you can recommend a few things that will take well to the soil here.”

“Come by any time. It was a pleasure to meet you, especially you, Grogu,” you smiled once more reaching out to rub his ear.

“Take care, Milla,” Din called as he exited the shop. You smiled at the nickname and the gentle tingle of the bell as they disappeared from your view.

Grogu grunted in disapproval as his father carried him out of the shop and back towards their parked speeder.

“I know kid, I didn’t want to wear out our welcome, but trust me, I could’ve stayed there all day.”

He was already thinking of excuses to stop by your shop again. He’d open a kriffing landscaping company if it meant he got to see your smile every day. Maker, he was in over his head.

Mando’a translations

Buir: father

Ad’ika: little one

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

[enigmatist17]

I've got you Anon <3

If anyone else would like to ask me anything, go for it!

------

Their latest campaign has been a disaster, and Plo Koon does his best to locate the bodies of his men among the debris.

He only manages to find about ten of them, and he hopes the Force takes the lost children he cannot find into its embrace.

The ride back to The Triumphant is a somber one, and after a general debriefing, Plo Koon just seems to vanish before anyone notices. It's not often he uses his Jetti powers on them, so the alarm bells are already ringing among the bridge crew. Plo Koon's quarters are not where a traditional Jetti's is located, the man having moved to the lower decks to be able to be a few floors above his men's barracks. He enjoyed meditating and feeling the ebb and flow of his children in the Force, and they enjoyed having their buir close by.

This made it quite easy for a few worried troopers to go check in on the Jetti, led by Comet who bypassed the lock with ease.

"I do not believe I've called anyone." Plo Koon is hovering in the air, meditating in front of his window bathed with the glow of hyperspace. He may be no Jetti, but Comet knows when someone is trying to put on the illusion of keeping busy, so he steps inside without hesitation.

"No offense general, but you did." The commander didn't flinch when the master craned his head towards him and knelt down beside the other. There's a moment before Plo sets himself on the floor, and the other troopers who had been standing at the door slowly file inside.

"Did you need backup?" He feels someone kneel behind him, and another trooper sits by his other side.

"Yes."

"I see."

Plo can feel the concern and worry from his children all but being shouted into the Force, and his already aching heart feels worse.

"You've said we can come to you for anything buir..." The trooper behind him starts, and after a moment, continues. "We want to return the favor, like you have so many times before. No one should mourn alone."

"...it gets harder every time you fall." The way Plo's shoulders slump made the troopers spike with worry, and Comet takes the action to hug the Jetti to his side.

"Go, get a space ready." The commander glances over his shoulder, and the troopers were up and gone before Plo could even blink. He really should say something, but leaning against Comet with his constant thrum of safety concern love is just so comforting, he can't possibly move, can he?

Eventually, his door opens, and so many of his children seem to flood his room. They've got a few mattresses, pillows, and blankets that Plo had brought on board, and as one they move his furniture to the hallway temporarily to have more floor space. Soon the nest is complete, and Plo gets to his feet to inspect the construct.

"You all amaze me every day."

"We can say that same." Wolffe said as he entered, still not pleased with Plo running from them instead of confiding, but not surprised. He's holding a mug of something, and watches as Plo sits in the middle of the cushion pile in his meditation pose.

No one was sure who would move first, but to no one's surprise, it was Wolffe. The officer is able to slip out of his boots easily enough, offering Plo the cup in his hand as he props himself up with a pillow. It's his favorite tea, and the Jedi sips slowly as slowly, more men join the commander. The Jedi watches those who can't wait just sit around, chatting softly about random things while pouring support and love into the Force, as if they'd been trained like any other Padawan. He's not sure when he leans back against Wolffe, nor when another one of his children hugs his other side, but the Jedi opens himself to the Force.

It does feel better to mourn with those who understand, and for once draw some strength so as not to lose himself in the pain.

Plo Koon doesn't have nightmares, the love from his children driving them far away.

[mandalorianslut]

Oooo I saw your requests were open!!

If it’s okay could i please have a fic where din and reader reunite maybe? After the events of s3 and they just missed each other and they settle down with grogu? With maybe a smidge of angst? Thank you so much<333

thank you for the request! sorry it took so long ! I hope you like it :3

As you look out the window at Din and Grogu, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, a feeling you hadn't felt for awhile.

You watch as Grogu scurries towards Din, a floating frog following behind him you hear him sigh at his sons antics, you watch as he picks him up, balancing him on his lap and looking down at him “ad’ika, your buir has been working away making dinner all afternoon, set down the frog.” 

Grogu turns his head to look at you as you watch them through the window, you wave at him giggling as he lifts the frog for you to see it. You pat your hands dry on your pants walking out to greet your boys.

When Grogu sees you he immediately drops the frog, lifting his arms in a grabby momevent to you, you walk up to him and pick him up cooing at him “Hi sweetheart, whats up?” you say slightly rocking him in your arms.

Din watches you with Grogu smiling as he watches how gentle you are with him, his mind goes back to being captured, the fear he felt feeling helpless as you and Grogu desperately tried to break the door down, he could hear your screams.

“Din… Din?” you call out frowning slightly as he doesn’t seem to hear you, you walk over to him resting your hand on his shoulder “Din… are you okay?” worry fills your features.

Din jumps slightly at your touch “yes sorry mesh’la what did you say?” he asks, his face seeming pained. 

You sit down next to him, “I was asking if you were okay? You seemed to space out on us there.” you try to joke, worry still filling your features, you rest your hand on his arm, “wanna talk about it?” 

He shakes his head no “no… I just want to savor this moment with you, is that okay?” his voice came out with a slight shake.

You rest your head on his shoulder, “Of course we can.” You hand Grogu over to him cuddling close to Din as he lets out a sigh, you feel him relax at your touch. You watch as Grogu babbles to Din, he nods along with him as if he understands him, it's a nice sight, seeing the two most important people in your life finally feeling relaxed. You let out a content sigh.

Din looks at you, wrapping his arm around leaning his forehead against yours “I love you riduur, I’m so glad you chose us as your clan.” 

Your face softens and you smile at him “I’m yours forever and always Din, I always have been.” you rest your forehead against his helmet.

He pulls back sitting back putting his feet back, seeming relaxed for the first time since you’ve met him, you cuddle into his side, this is nice you think closing your eyes slightly, content with hearing Grogus babbles, knowing you where all safe now.

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Feral Hunter

I wrote most of this in a reblog but thought it deserved its own post as my unwieldy response took on a life of its own, which they have a tendency to do. I’ve added more to it as well so there’s some new extra ramblings on one of my favourite ideas/headcanons/theories for season 3 of The Bad Batch. 

Give me Feral Hunter. My kingdom for Feral Hunter. Completely unhinged, vengeance fueled, feral Hunter. He can go on his Joel Miller/The Mandalorian/John Wick/Liam Neeson in Taken/The Punisher arc, as a little treat.

I've been trying to figure out why I love this idea so much. I think it's because we never really see any of the Batch actually, properly unleash. Sure, they're unconventional and a bit bonkers in their approach but they're still a very well-oiled machine. When they're on a mission, they all know exactly what they're doing, what their roles are, and where their squad mates are. Even when they improvise on the fly, they all adapt fairly easily and smoothly. Everything is still all rather professional, smooth, and efficient. Like they're all operating on muscle memory, which they basically are given how many countless times I'm sure they've trained and done missions together.

Even when the Batch is fighting their way through Kamino, they still operate with that same smooth, efficient, hyper competent professionalism. Despite their unorthodox approach, there's still this sense that they're contained. Never throwing off the shackles and being completely unrestrained. The full unbridled force of their abilities and skills simmering just below the surface, waiting to be given free rein and just obliterate everything.

There's a little hint of this in the opening scene of episode 2x14 'Tipping Point', where the ARC Trooper in Echo comes out to play. But oh, how I would love to see more. From all of them, but especially Hunter. 

Look at his face. Look at that expression and all those emotions from Sergeant Stoic himself, who is usually fairly reserved and contained. Dorito Bod Bandana Space Dad on the warpath to get his ad'ika back, cutting a swathe through the Imperials, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, and taking out anything and everything that even thinks about getting in his way. Hunter goes full Space Rambo mode, ruthlessly taking out Stormtroopers, blood dripping off his vibroblade, eyes wide and deranged, as he turns into a complete animal. His half tattooed skull now completed by the blood of his enemies covering the other side of his face. For extra angst, when he finds Omega, she doesn’t recognise him. The figure standing in the smoking remains of the door to her cell looks like Hunter. Is wearing Hunter’s armour. Is holding Hunter’s vibroknife. But that’s not Hunter. That’s not her buir. Not anymore. And she’s afraid of him. We get a little hint of this at the very end of season 2 and oh ho ho, I am so ready for more. I am so ready for Hunter’s descent into vengeance, revenge and rage. Not just Hunter either, I’d love to see the rest of the Batch unleash as well.

Can you just imagine Wrecker properly unleashing? All of that strength and power finally freed as he rips limbs off Stormtroopers, snapping necks and crushing skulls with his bare hands. The crumpled, pulverised bodies of his enemies discarded behind him as he rages down corridor after corridor of whatever Imperial base they’ve infiltrated. We got a hint of how damaging Wrecker can be when his chip activated but that was chip controlled. This would just be pure Wrecker. 

We see a little more of this in Crosshair's actions and you could also argue that this is chip controlled. Or if his chip has actually been removed, then Crosshair’s actions are definitely still clouded by his Imperial mindset and blind delusion that the Empire is right. Right up until it all goes horribly wrong on Barton-4 and he finally wakes up to the reality of his nightmare. Either way, that unrestrained part of him is still there. The amount of rage and anger that must be building up and festering inside Crosshair is eventually going to explode. When he snaps like he did at the end of 'The Outpost' then there isn’t going to be an Imperial left without a blaster bolt between their eyes. When Hemlock ends up dying (he better), my bet is on Crosshair taking him out and getting revenge. And it won't be pretty. He'd shoot him execution style at the very least. 

I'd love to see Tech (shut up he's alive) completely lose it and finally snap off every ounce of his carefully crafted control. I've written about this before but Tech's combat is exceptionally efficient and precise. He only ever uses the minimum number of shots or moves to take out an enemy because he doesn't need to expend anything beyond what is necessary. Complete economy of form. His combat style is very contained, almost like a mirror of his personality and character. Can you just imagine him snarling and growling like a beast, teeth bared, eyes dark, face distorted in rage, as he slams a Stormtrooper's head into a control panel desk with enough force to crack their helmet and shatter their visor. 

I mentioned above that we've seen a tiny bit of this slightly unhinged quality from Echo. There's another little hint of it when they're all in that training simulation on Kamino.

This gifset from @starqueensthings shows this perfectly, especially the above gif. I love the line they wrote at the top of their post as well, which I'm going to quote in part here: "I’d like to introduce my scomp arm TO YOUR JUGULAR WIRE." This perfectly encapsulates the unhinged quality lurking in Echo. He just leaps onto the back of what looks like the Kaminoan version of a B2 super battle droid and then proceeds to flail and stab madly before plunging his scomp arm into the battle droid's chest and ripping out the droid version of its jugular. Absolutely unhinged behaviour. The absolute madlad.

Now picture Echo finally snapping and doing this to a bunch of Imperials and just absolutely annihilating them. There is so much in him that is screaming to be let out. The general batshittery that comes with being an ARC Trooper. The insanity and chaos of coming from the 501st and Torrent Company. The unconventional, yeet-the-reg-manual-out-the-airlock, bonkers existence of The Bad Batch. Plus all that trauma, fury and rage of what has happened to him, what was done to him, and everything that he’s seen, experienced, endured, suffered, and survived. When the last few frayed threads holding Echo back finally snap he is going to go completely postal.

Is it healthy? No. Is it "good"? Probably not. But my god, would I love to see it.

The Clone Wars has a history of tackling and portraying difficult, multilayered and nuanced topics and we've seen that in The Bad Batch as well. More recent Star Wars series, such as Andor and The Mandalorian, have also had a real interest in showing the murky areas that exist between the good (Republic) and the bad (Imperial). There's been a particular focus on showing that there's a lot more grey than we think, rather than the pure dichotomy between cliched black and white. That sometimes there is no right or wrong decision. That sometimes everything is awful and everyone is stuck in a shitty situation from which there is no way to escape unscathed. In order to make it out alive, lines are going to be crossed. The battle of good vs evil takes on a new edge and the line between good and bad gets very murky.

That quote about how “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain” comes to mind. In this instance, the Batch are still fighting tooth and nail for each other but their sacrifices and actions are starting to take them to much darker places. It’s a classic example of good people being driven to do bad, awful, terrible things when those they love are in danger and they will do whatever it takes to save them.  

The whole 'deeply flawed parental figure seeking vengeance' is a popular trope at the moment as well so Feral Hunter would make sense narratively for a number of reasons.

Will we actually get it? Probably not. And even if we do, it'll probably still be a watered-down kid friendly version.

But oh, just imagine if we did.

[padawansuggest]

Din: *shows up to the covert with Grogu in a pet stroller and a small hover cart of things behind him* Buir, I came back!

Armorer: Did you bathe in the mines?

Din: lol nah, I’m on another side quest before I can finish that-

Armorer: *deep sigh* Okay. Why is my bu’ad in a pet stroller?

Grogu: Patu! ‘Jail! Jail for Grogu for a thousand years! My crimes have caught up to me and I am punished with tortures beyond your imagining!’

Din: lol he likes to wander off when I’m not looking. This way he can look about without getting locked in place.

Armorer: okay.

Din: Anyways, I got a contract a week ago that paid me like four times what I would have expected, and they kept giving me items, and when I asked they said it was worth it? So I brought them back for the covert.

Armorer: *instantly on edge cause it sounds like another idiot leader is trying to court her foundling* Oh? Give me a copy of the contract.

Din: *hands that over, and stops the hover cart full of good* Here you go, I don’t know if it’s really worth anything, but I know I don’t have much use for cross body bags. It’s not even the right size for a diaper bag anyways.

Armorer: Well, thank you, Din’ika. I’ll be sure to spread the resources as needed. *sends them on their way after giving Grogu a gentle cuddle and tucking him back into his stroller*

Grogu: Patu! ‘Even grandmother, lovely woman that she is, who gives me gentle ear rubs and good cookies, has abandoned me to my fate so cruel as the confinement chamber, what horrible sin have I committed to be punished as so!’

Din: *leaves with baby*

Armorer: *starts looking through the goods Din was being courted with, eyebrow raising* Paz!

Paz: *comes in, curious* Yes, Goran?

Armorer: You still have a white collar fence for high priced goods?

Paz: …yes. What did Din bring back this time?

Armorer: *hands him a single item*

Paz: …is this a Space Birkin?

Armorer: …yes.

Paz: Dear lord. Good job, idiot. Do I kill the fool to court your ad?

Armorer: …do your research on them.

Paz: Yes, Goran.