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#star wars: the mandalorian
engagemythrusters · 11 months
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I think Cobb Vanth is a funny dude bc he sees some armour for a thick tank of a guy and goes “yep this’ll fit just grand”
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alphamecha-mkii · 5 days
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Star Wars: The Mandalorian - Concept Art by Ryan Church
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groundrunner100 · 2 months
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Happy Black History Month, Star Wars homies!
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xfilesposterproject · 2 years
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My official episode posters for The Mandalorian so far. Anyone eager to see more prints released in this series soon?
FYI: I've got artist prints of some of these in my shop for those interested! jjlendl.com/shop
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daughter-rhaenyra · 1 year
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THE MANDALORIAN (2019-) | S03E01 | Chapter 17 | The Apostate
↳ Grogu being Din’s chaotic child
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tattycoram · 1 year
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Happy Mandalorian season 3
Din: Come on, you can't make everyone like you; you're not Grogu
Boba: Not everyone likes Grogu
Din: WHO DOESNT LIKE GROGU?!?
Boba: No, no I jus-
Din: GIVE ME NAMES!!!
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luke, going to pick up grogu: step one: don't fall in love.
din: *opens the door*
luke: well kriff.
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I need an official translation of the Mandalorian manga soon because LOOK AT HOW THEY DRAW GROGU.
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Star Wars: The Mandalorian - Moff Gideon Concept Art by Brian Matyas
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tailorvizsla · 1 year
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Title: Eighty Thousand Credits Pairing(s): Din Djarin x f!Reader Wordcount: ~4700 Rating: NC-17, minors DNI please!!! Warnings: Smut, sex pollen, dub!con, unprotected sex, PIV sex, rough sex, outdoor sex, a touch of feels at the end Author’s Notes: Hi y’all it’s been a minute since I last wrote anything for Din! This fic has been in the works for almost two years? A huuuuge thank you to @shadesofshatteredblue, @hdlynn, @bitchin-beskar, and @catsnkooks for encouraging and fanning the flames of thirst and thottiness. I whoreheartedly appreciate all of you lovelies.
📚 My Masterlist 📚 
This hunt is different from the ones you and Din have gone on. 
Rather than looking for a person, the target is a plant. The locals call it the ‘marriage bloom’. Apparently, the fruit has some sort of medicinal value to the population, but no one has been able to find any for ages now. Now, the local farmers are looking for a way to grow that fruit without destroying the local ecosystem. 
The money offered is extraordinary, so Din had taken the job, thinking it an easy source of money. He had found a caldera tucked between two dangerous stretches of forest. After checking it out, the two of you agreed that this was the best place to check – locals rarely ventured into this area, kept at bay by the unstable weather patterns and carnivorous plains-panthers. Because of that, the caldera has remained virtually untouched. If there was a place where the fruit could flourish, it would be here.
The weather is quite nice right now, with a soft, cool breeze whipping in from the north. It brings with it the scent of the forest and the nearby river. If it wasn’t for the ominous clouds roiling to the east, you would have considered asking Din to stay here just a bit longer to stretch your legs and relax. It’s been a long time since you last spent a few minutes in sunlight.
Creeping forward, you examine the bushes growing around you, looking for the vibrant blue fruit. A thousand credits for each fruit, you tell yourself, as you wave a bug away from your helmet. In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of blue nestled in the vegetation. You go to examine it and let out a soft cry of delight.
“Din!” you call out. “Over here!”
As you bend over to pick up the fruit, you notice that the flowers appear to be bulging. Shrugging to yourself, you continue sifting through the fruit, taking only the ones that look to be ripe. You also keep the vague warnings in mind. There are odd side effects if the pollen is inhaled. No one had explained further, saying only that this fruit was why so many married way back in the day. Din comes to your patch of vegetation, and he lets out a noise of approval as he sinks down onto his knees beside you.
“One full basket,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Easiest money we’ll ever make.”
You nod in agreement. Last hunt had been…messy, to say the least. Both figuratively and literally. You’re pretty sure Din’s still picking organic matter out of the intake manifolds.
Taking out your knife, you take a single fruit, flower, and leaf from each plant, being mindful to not take too many. The urge to profit is tempting, but the farmers had been clear – they wanted just enough to plant their own. You note that Din grabs a handful of the berries and places them into another pouch.
“For us,” he says. “It might help us through lean times.”
You nod in response. It doesn’t hurt to research possible alternatives in case your Tribe runs out of medication. As the wind starts to grow stronger, you notice that the flowers are starting to open up. Your hand brushes up against the petals and it explodes, filling the air with a thick plume of golden-yellow pollen. You and Din recoil, but it’s too late. You can taste something green and bitter in the back of your throat as you inhale.
You fall back onto your backside, coughing as you drag yourself away from the hazy cloud of pollen hanging in the air. Din falls to the ground next to you, coughing just as violently. After a few moments of silence, you feel a peculiar burn in your lungs – a slow, sensuous heat that feels like your body is wrapped in a sensuous embrace.
As you lie there on the round, you can feel it spreading through your chest. When the warmth hits your heart, it surges through the rest of your body with each pulse of your heart. In vain, you try to still your thoughts, to calm yourself down. No matter what you do, you cannot focus on a single thought for more than a few seconds. You leap from thought to thought as your heart climbs into your throat.
“Din,” you croak out to him. “So-something’s w-wrong - “
“Ship,” he says back to you. “Med kit.”
Summoning all your strength, you roll over onto your side. The ground under your hands and knees swims. As the two of you crawl back toward the ship, a foot at a time, Din gets ahead of you. He seems a lot less affected by whatever that pollen had done to the two of you. It feels like your armor is constricting your chest, preventing you from breathing. The cottony soft fabric of your undersuit feels like razorblades against your sensitive skin. With each breath, you can feel the lace on your brassiere pull and scrape against your skin.
Up ahead, you can see Din struggle to his feet. As you watch, you find yourself consumed by the thought of him. The way the dappled sunlight glints off his armor. The way his strong thighs quiver under the strain of holding his body up. His broad shoulders, heaving as he gasps for air. It sends a hot, sticky jolt straight to your pussy. You dig your teeth into the flesh of your lower lip to keep from moaning as he leans against the tree, revealing his perfect back to you -
Perfect for digging nails into - 
Shaking your head, you try to redirect your thoughts away from just how perfect he is. You stagger to your feet, and suddenly, things feel a lot…easier? Your momentum carries you forward to another tree, where you lean to rest. As you sink against it, your thighs press together, and you realize that your panties stick to you in an unpleasant way. Fuck, not now.
“Din, we need,” you stammer out. “Need to.”
Need help. But your lips won’t work. Your helmet suddenly feels claustrophobic, as if it has shrunk several sizes. You wriggle your fingers under the edge and lift, hoping to force some air into your lungs. You suck down some air, but you realize the mistake you’ve made when you see the clouds of pollen rising up off your armor. 
Fuck. 
It has to be the pollen. If a single sniff is making you this wet, you can’t imagine what prolonged exposure will do to you. You bite down on your inner cheek. That brief bit of pain gives you something to focus on. Something other than the throbbing heat between your legs.  Up ahead, you can see that Din is slipping further down his tree trunk. You stagger forward toward Din. He needs to be distracted, and so do you. Otherwise, you’re not making it back home.
“It’s the pollen,” you say as steadily as possible. “Need to…need to get to the ship.”
“Yeah,” he rasps out. “Agreed.”
You wrap one arm around him. Din lets out a little noise that you choose to interpret as pain. If you even think he’s moaning in pleasure…a hot shiver wracks through your entire body. Slowly, as you hold each other up, you stagger back to the ship. It’s only a few hundred meters away - you can see it through the underbrush.
“Almost there,” you whisper. “Almost.”
His arm slides down around your waist.
“I’m not gonna make it,” Din says bluntly. “Too far.”
“For eighty thousand credits, you’re going to make it,” you say bluntly, and he groans in response.
For eighty thousand credits, you’ll carry him all the way back to the Tribe. On foot.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it more than a couple of steps. He shoves himself away from you. Din grasps his helmet and pulls it off, throwing it aside. Exposing himself to even more pollen. Fuck. His helmet bounces uselessly off a log as he falls to his knees. As you see his messy, curly brown hair for the first time, it feels like everything around you has disappeared. There’s nothing here but you and the Mand’alor.
He stands up. Has he always been this tall? This muscular? You want to look away, to give him his privacy, but you can’t tear yourself away. You don’t realize your hands are moving until you’ve taken your helmet off. It’s a bad idea, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You drop it on the ground. Din freezes at the sound. Your heart skips a beat as he slowly turns to face you.
Your eyes sweep over his face hungrily, taking in his handsome visage. He has beautiful eyes, a strong nose, and plump lips. Beautiful, you think as you wet your lower lip. Your eyes snap up to his - they’re so dark. Dark with arousal and something else you can’t quite name. Your mouth goes dry at his unwavering stare, and you feel so, so small in front of him. Taking your helmet off had been such a bad idea. You take a half-step back.
It seems like your movement sets something off in him. He coils toward you, predator after his prey, as you feebly try to escape him. He matches each of your steps until your back slams into a tree. You stand there, paralyzed by something that isn’t quite fear and arousal, unable to do more than watch as he closes the distance between your bodies. 
“Din,” his name falls from your lips in a whisper. 
“The…the pollen,” he says hoarsely. “Can’t. Can’t fight it much longer.”
“What do we do?” your voice is unnaturally steady, even when the words lodge in your throat like molasses. His eyes drop to your lips as you moisten them again. “What…do you…what do you want, Din?”
Already, you can see the fine red mist climbing up his throat as he struggles to maintain control over himself. He looks away, taking a great shuddering breath.
“O-only one s-solution,” you offer softly. "But we don't have to..."
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he insists stubbornly, trying to back away.
Even that gap between your bodies leaves you with a keen sense of loss and you whine softly. His eyes snap up to your face. You don’t know how to tell him that you need his heat, his body against yours.
“Din, it’s okay,” you whisper to him. “Din, it’s okay.”
Your feelings of respect and affection for him are genuine. You are willing to give yourself to him to help save his life. Does he reciprocate? Does he want this with you?
He stares at you, face like stone, as he considers your words. You struggle to not squirm at the weight of his gaze – you’re so wet your trousers are sticking to your skin, all the way down to your knees. The two of you stare at each other for far too long, considering the next move to be made, the forest nearly silent, save for the sound of wind in the leaves. 
If this isn’t resolved soon, you are sure the medical side-effects will be lethal. And if the two of you do resolve it…there’s a real chance that your budding friendship won’t survive it. Would he be able to look at you the same if the two of you –
“Try to make it to the ship,” he rasps out. “Safer there…for us to…f…fuck.”
You nod in agreement and tear your eyes from his just as the wind shifts. 
Shimmering plumes of gold swirl through the dark leaves and settle lightly over every surface. As you look north, dread fills you as you realize you are downwind of at least two dozen clusters of flowers. Reflexively, you inhale deeply to try and hold your breath, but there’s no use. The fine yellow pollen has settled on your armor, in your hair, on your clothing. You can taste it - bitter and sweet and floral on your tongue. 
You inhale, and your entire body quivers.
“Din,” you whimper, and he moves.
He lets out a harsh expletive. Both leather-clad hands come to rest on the tree, one on either side of your shoulders, as Din leans in. The bag falls to the ground at your feet. His nose is almost touching yours, and you lose yourself in his dark eyes. Your pussy throbs and squeezes with each breath you take. He leans in and the world spins.
Din kisses you gently once, then he slants his mouth over yours. He forces his tongue into your mouth as you lace your arms around his neck, kissing him back just as hungrily. Your teeth clack against his as you grow more and more frantic for his touch. Din Djarin tastes divine. His teeth dig into your lower lip, and your entire body quivers from the exquisite pain. He kisses you again and again. You can hear the bark under his fingertips crumbling as he flexes his fingers.
You wonder if he’s trying to keep himself from touching you. To keep himself from guiding your pants down so he can fuck you properly. The thought of his cock inside you makes you moan. As you’re squirming, soundlessly begging for his touch, you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to keep yourself from grinding up against his cuisse. That causes something to shift and snap in Din. He growls deep in his chest. Your pussy gushes as you start to grind against the hard metal between your thighs.
One hand clamps around the back of your neck for a bruising kiss as he pulls you toward him, tight and hard as an unyielding metal band as he takes control. The other falls to your waist as he pins you against his hard, tense body. Instead of resisting, you surrender to him, closing your eyes as his tongue maps the roof of your mouth. Relief fills you at the promise of satiating the agonizing need threatening to claw its way out of you.
There’s something dizzying about being so utterly helpless, unable to do anything but let your hunter do as he pleases with you. The hungry, desperate way he kisses you, as if your lips are the only thing keeping him alive. The way he grinds his codpiece into your belly, seeking friction to relieve his erection. Lifting your hands, you lace your fingers through his beautiful curls and tug. 
Din growls and you whine your frustration into his mouth. Your fevered thoughts take on a desperate tone - can’t he see that you need more than a kiss? Can’t he feel the way your body writhes and undulates in his hands? Can’t he feel the warmth of your arousal soaking through his trousers? 
“Please,” you beg softly. “Din, I need you…”
Din breaks away, his cheeks flushed vividly as he gasps for air. His eyes are wild, that sweet gentle part of him long gone. His black pupils are blown wide open, his arousal so intent it frightens you. Your armor suddenly feels too tight, constricting, so you begin to shed it. Din has no patience for that – he simply turns you around and shoves you forward.
You land hard on your hands and knees, yelping in protest.
“DIN!”
He ignores you as he kneels behind you. Two big hands wrap themselves around your hips and squeeze firmly, massaging your plump flesh as you struggle to unbuckle your belt. A thrill runs through you when you hear the zip of leather through his belt buckle. Finally, you get your pants down around your thighs. Din slips in the dry leaves littering the forest floor as he positions himself behind you. You brace yourself on all fours, arching your back as you feel the head of his cock brushing up against your fluttering, dripping hole. He thrusts sloppily, grunting in your ear, grinding up against your swollen clit. 
It’s not the first time you’ve had a hunter who couldn’t find your entrance, so you reach down between your thighs and guide him to your sweltering heat. Din braces himself as his fingers tighten painfully around your hips. He pushes in with one deep, devastating thrust. The noise that leaves you is guttural, somewhere between a sob of relief and a grunt of discomfort. 
His cock is nearly too much for you to take. He lets out a harsh noise as he finds the end of you, his body shivering. Then he slips halfway out and rolls his hips forward, seating himself deep inside you, your cunt protesting with an obscene, wet noise.
This changes everything between you and Din. From Mand’alor and loyal follower to…this. You aren’t sure what it is, or what it will become, but there’s no way you can walk away from this and still be the same. Not when you’ve had his desperate mouth against yours, or had his cock buried to the hilt inside you. Not when you’ve heard his needy, desperate moans. A shudder wracks your body, drawing him out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking.
He slips halfway out, giving your body a very brief moment of respite from his too-thick cock. Then you rock back against him in time with his thrusts. He seems hesitant, as if he is just as afraid of the future as you had been. Maybe he’s afraid of hurting you. You aren’t sure, and you don’t care. The next time he starts you pull out, you squeeze around him. 
His hand on your hip tightens painfully, to the point where you know there will be five pretty little bruises there in the morning. Din starts to move, pulling out halfway before sheathing himself completely, his flesh smacking wetly against yours.
Din reaches up and yanks your top open, sending buttons scattering through the dry leaves. Then he cups your tit and squeezes. Your moans and pleas run together into desperate whines. His cock barely leaves you before he’s filling you up again, driving away all coherent thought. You’re so full you can’t breathe. As you spiral closer and closer to the edge, your arms give out, and you settle on your elbows. Din keens and drives his cock in deeper another half-inch, making your eyes roll back in your head. 
If anyone walked by right now, you’d be horrified - you’re spread out in front of your Mand’alor as he ruts into you, both your helmets are off, and the evidence of your pleasure is dripping down your thighs. Biting down on your lower lip, you bury your face into your arms, breathing in the sweet, earthy smell of the forest. Din’s hand moves from your hip to your front. When his fingers brush up against your swollen, throbbing clit, a bolt of pure lightning shoots through you and your entire body stiffens in surprise. You suck in a breath and cry out sharply. The pleasure is intense - it’s almost too much, bordering on painful and prickly. Din traps your clit between his fingers as he strokes and your entire body shakes.
His name falls from your lips in a plea. Your breathing is erratic, spots swimming at the edges of your vision as your entire body tenses tight. You start to shake, tears pricking at your eyes, as you hover at the precipice. It’s too much - you’re not sure how much more your body can take - and with a final brush of his fingers, that pressure inside releases, like a dam bursting open and flooding your senses with pure pleasure. A feral noise escapes you as you finish, sweat dripping down your forehead as your cunt convulses around Din’s cock over and over again. He lets out a marvelous moan as he stutters to a halt. 
Din pulls you back into his lap. As your breathing and pulse slow back to normal, the heat dissipates, leaving you entirely aware of what had just transpired. Fuck. Din’s hands squeeze around your hips and  you know it’s time to move. Lifting your hips, you have to stifle a noise as his cock slides out with a wet noise. A warm, wet rush of cum follows. As you get to your feet, you take a peek back at Din. The crotch and thighs of his pants are drenched with your pleasure and his cum. 
You avert your eyes and pull up your pants. It almost feels disrespectful to see him in such a disheveled, dirtied way. You certainly had no right to any of it, your traitorous mind supplies. Blinking back tears of frustration, you grab random pieces of armor as you find them and stuff them into the bag with the flowers and fruit. When you’ve worked up your courage, you turn to look at Din once again. He’s holding his helmet in his hands, a frown furrowing his brow. As you start to speak, another gust of wind picks up, bringing with it more pollen. Din’s eyes widen as they meet yours.
Familiar heat settles in your belly. His cock - still wet and covered in creamy streaks of cum - twitches. Your insides protest with a dull ache. He pulls up his pants and tries to arrange himself more neatly.
“Ship,” you say. “We can talk later.”
He nods in agreement and the two of you run back toward the ship. Once inside, the two of you lean against the hull. Your breathing is erratic again. Once the two of you are safely isolated, you stagger to the captain’s quarters. The dull thuds of Din’s armor hitting the floor lets you know that Din is following. You are completely naked by the time Din makes it into the bedroom. The last of his clothing falls to the floor. This time, he hesitates. Sudden shyness fills you as you realize he’s watching you, his eyes roving from your eyes down to your toes. It almost feels like he is devouring you with his hungry gaze.
“Beautiful,” Din rasped. 
He closes his eyes and his lips move in what seems to be a silent prayer. Before you can speak, Din pounces, and a squeal escapes you. Din throws you down onto the bed, and as you settle on the mattress, he parts your thighs with one hand.
“Look at this gorgeous little pussy,” Din says, grasping his cock. He traces your soaked lips with the head, circling around your entrance. “Been wishin’...that I could kiss you…touch these tits…cum in this pussy. Make you mine…Have always wanted to make you mine…So perfect…”
His words make you inhale sharply. Does he mean what he’s saying, or is it the pollen? You push the thought aside - now is not the time for that train of thought. Din slurs his words, sounding very much like he’s drunk on something as he praises you. 
“I would have shot someone for you to look at me,” Din breathes, “For you to smile at me…can’t get enough of you…don’t think I ever will get enough of you…”
Din groans as he starts to slide in, spreading you around him in that familiar, arching way that sends lighting straight up your spine. You’re still sore and swollen from what had transpired outside, but you need him. Din changes his angle and sinks in easily, his entrance eased by the cum still left inside you. Din’s beautiful eyes close as he sighs with pleasure when his pubic bone meets your clit. 
You moan and mewl as he fucks into you, but it’s not like how it was outside. Outside was raw and primal. It was nothing more than two people fucking to alleviate the symptoms of pollen poisoning. But here…in the warmth of your bed…you feel more protected and cherished than you feel hunted and taken. His lips trace over your skin, each kiss like a brand, marking you in a way that his teeth never could.
“So fucking beautiful,” he pants. “Can’t…can’t stop myself…need you, mesh’la. Need all of you…”
His breath fans against you, making your skin break out in goosebumps at the intimacy of being so close to your Mand’alor. To be the one who has the privilege of having his cock buried so deep inside them. To be the one with his weight across their body, his muscles flexing and bunching between their thighs. You’re the one lucky enough to have his sweat puddling on their belly, and his cum clinging to their inner walls. A fine shudder travels through your body as you dig your heels into his ass. 
Running your fingers along his skin, you feel sweat dotting his back. Here and there, the texture of his skin changes, and you catalog the location of each scar. If there’s a repeat of today in the future…you want to kiss each one and thank the gods for granting him safety and for giving him these beautiful marks to prove his bravery.
You can feel the callouses on his hands as he skims his palms over the bumps and curves and planes of your body. He’s fucking you, but he’s not taking you, even though you had certainly enjoyed being taken before. This is different, and you wonder if the pollen only encouraged the passion that was already there between the two of you. As Din’s breathing grows heavier, and the tingling grows stronger, you dig your nails into Din’s back. He moans again, grinding his pubic bone against your clit in that way that makes you whimper and your eyes roll back.
Din kisses your lips, and then he bites gently. His tongue laps against the tingling bite marks, soothing away the pain. You wriggle a hand between your sweaty bodies and start stroking your clit. His breathing is erratic - he’s getting close, and so are you. The tingling becomes a fiery inferno, building higher and higher with each delicious stroke of his cock against your inner walls. Din rests his hands on the mattress, one on either side of your head, surging forward and hitting that spot that makes your toes curl against his lower back. Finally, the friction is too much for you to bear, and your back arches, welcoming him in deeper as you find completion.
The fiery inferno turns into a warm, sensuous heat that fills every molecule in your body. You stroke Din’s back and shoulders as he finishes, filling you with spurt after spurt of warm, wet cum. You clench tight around him, relishing the liquid heat inside. For a few moments, Din rests atop you, his weight on his forearms, his cock plugging his cum inside you. You stroke his back lazily, blowing one of his curls out of your face, as he drops his face onto your shoulder. He smells salty and sweaty, but it’s not unpleasant. He smells like himself and leather, and blaster residue. Maybe there’s a touch of pollen there, but you’re sure your nose is so saturated with it that you can’t smell it anymore.
As the sweat starts to cool, Din pulls out, and sits back on his heels for a moment, brushing his hair out of his eyes. You don’t hesitate to look at him, to properly take him in as you see his naked body for the first time. His hair is a mess, his curls tangled and wild. His torso is dotted with sweat. His flaccid cock is covered in creamy streaks and his dark pubes are saturated with cum and your slick. His scarred chest is heaving and flushed red. He’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your life, you think to yourself, as he collapses onto the bed next to you. The heat leaves your body again, but instead of cold filling you, you’re left pleasantly sore and sticky.
Din wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you under the thin sheet with him. Neither of you speak as you give into the siren-sweet call of rest. Tomorrow will be a new day, and the two of you can deal with things then. He’s not the best with words, so he lets his actions speak. His hand falls to your belly, while he adjusts the other arm to act as your pillow. He pulls the blanket up around you and kisses your shoulder. You know then that Din cares about you, and that gives you hope for whatever tomorrow’s discussions bring. 
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caramelskinnedking · 1 year
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Grogu is all of us
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engagemythrusters · 11 months
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oh boba we're really in it now...
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stdeeoftheknife · 7 months
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i’ll forever be so thankful that jango and boba were definitively confirmed in canon to be mandalorians. the fetts were the first we EVER saw on-screen!! they always deserved to be actual mandalorians, and after years of debate, i love that it was made official 🙏
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groundrunner100 · 5 months
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Vote away, my fellow fans of honor-simping, flying bucket heads!
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alphamecha-mkii · 10 months
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Star Wars: The Mandalorian - Season 3 - Mando Saves the Day Concept Art by Christian Alzmann
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alphacomicsvol2 · 10 months
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Star Wars: The Mandalorian Season 2 #1 Cover Art (InHyuk Lee Variant)
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