Din + Hands (#for Science) 

Din + hands (#for science) 

bonus:

Random Gifs of Temuera Morrison (for reasons)

Damnation or Salvation {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Tovar swore as he gripped the reins and guided the horse’s head down the overgrown path. The small price of fabric and broken branches indicated the spoiled brat he was charged with dragging back to her husband had gone the wrong damn way. The rain pelting down on his leathers added to the scowl he wore on his dark face, even though he was accustomed to such things. A mercenary’s life wasn’t a particularly comfortable one, but he had plans of a hot meal, a soft bed and an even softer whore around his cock when he had entered the brothel in the small village he had stopped in the night before. Instead he had found a lord looking to find someone to go retrieve his runaway wife, and the price had made it impossible to resist.

You wipe down one of the tables in the tavern you found work in. Dressed in rags  - what used to be a decent gown - and hoping to pass as a bar wench to disguise yourself. Men leered at you, made comments, but you took them in your stride. You aren’t like your fellow ladies back home. You’d experienced the harsh reality of the world of men and you knew how to handle yourself. You finish wiping down the tables and gasp when you look up and find a man staring down at you.  A frown on his face and a scar adorning his eye and cheek. Your heart thumps but not in fear. “Can I offer you something to drink?” You ask, standing up straight and he tilts his head, eyeing the scratches on your neck and forearms from where you ran through the forest. “Perhaps a seat by the fire to dry off?” You suggest when he remains silent.

Keep reading

Leia Organa - A Leader Named Leia, Illustration by Brian Rood

Natalie Portman as Padmé Amidala Star Wars: Episode I — The Phantom Menace (1999)

I made this for school a few years ago and I thought I would post it here

The Mandalorian

Art by Rich Davies || IG

The Bodyguard and the Betrothed - Chapter 1

Din Djarin x afab!reader

Rating: E | 3.5k words

You've always read that being a Princess has its perks, but you think whoever wrote that had to have been mistaken. As the third, unwanted daughter of the royal family of Hapuntep, your life isn't what you imagined when you were younger, still starry-eyed and full of hope.

So when a mysterious stranger shows up and rips you away from the only life you've ever known, you can't help but wonder - is your mundane life about to get better? Or... is it about to get a whole lot worse?

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Bodyguard!Din, some Violence (later on), Strangers to Lovers, and more tags to come!

AN: I feel most comfortable doing one-shots, so trying to step out of my comfort zone with a Bodyguard!Din romance. I have the general plotline written out, excited to share this story with you. (But fear not, there will be plenty of rated E action down the road!) Guessing about 10 chapters in total. ❤️

[Also posted to A03 here!]

Chapter 1 - The Stranger

As the long hours in near-isolation passed, you think back and realize that honestly, you should have seen this coming. In the past few months, you had noticed the whispers around the castle, the furtive looks, but you never dreamed they were directed at you.

Being part of the royal family of Hapuntep, there were certain… expected obligations. Your eldest sister had been betrothed since birth to a handsome prince from Indupar, a monarchical planet in the Ado Sector. Your second sister had married for love, a Lord from the mid rim planet of Ec Pand. And your younger brother - he was to inherit the kingdom, as the only son. He would be married as well, someday, but that was still many years away.

And you - well, you had not married. You had always been treated a little differently than your sisters, the forgotten middle child that was never wanted.

When you were younger, you thought perhaps it was the age gap. Your sisters were 8 and 10 when you were born and at their age, there was nothing interesting about a crying baby. You had assumed it was just that gap that had been stretched too far to cross, but as you got older, you started noticing some interactions that had escaped your younger mind.

They way they treated you, like you were a ghost. And then more specifically, the tone of voice they used when they actually did speak to you. The sneering lips and wrinkled noses as they implied that your parents didn’t want you.

“Daddy didn’t ask for another daughter. He wanted a son.” Your eldest sister had hissed in your ear, late at night, “But it was too late. You showed up, anyway.”

As you grew older, you then thought maybe it was because of your looks. You favored your mother, the same shade of hair and complexion. You thanked the Maker for that more than once when you were alone - otherwise you might have gotten your Father’s weak constitution or his small, watery eyes. It was a wonder that your mother had ever agreed to marry him, and you thought about that often as well.

Your sisters looked like copies of your father, down to the exact texture of hair. Your eyes were different though, the only one in the family with that shade, most likely a recessive gene. Was it jealousy, perhaps, sowed the seed that has lasted for years?

The rumors and theories changed over time, but the ending was always the same. A surprised, unwanted pregnancy. The black sheep. When your mother passed when you were 6 from a bout of Borotavi syndrome, the gap between you and your family only grew further apart, turning into a chasm.

Your father remarried soon after, a beautiful widower whose husband has also recently passed, and she became your stepmother. Your resemblance to your own mother was not lost on her, and there was no affection gained, despite your efforts.

A few years later, they had a child together, your brother Nikolas - the one saving grace in this wretched family. He inherited the best things from both, and somehow the two of you became close. He was your only real friend, the only person you could trust.

Overall, you made the best you could with your lot. You stayed tucked away, and out of sight. Afternoons were filled with quiet activities, reading, studying, academics, most of the time in your room. When you could, you snuck outside, sweet-talking the guards into teaching you fitness routines and self-defense lessons.

Nobody seemed to love you, besides your brother, but nothing was expected from you either. You were perfectly happy living a life of unbothered mediocrity. But all of that changed when he showed up. The day your life changed, forever.

——-

The day had started perfectly normal, not one that would have stuck out in your mind as anything special. You were up with the sun, the light creeping in through the blinds as you hurry into the adjoined refresher to wash up for the day. Even though it was early, you cherished the quiet moments in the castle before everyone started moving around. Yes, it’s true that you were left alone for the most part, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t hear everything going on throughout the day.

Sinking into the basin, you let the water wash over you, enjoying the warmth while it lasted. After you scrubbed yourself clean, you grab the bound book, dog-eared and battered, from the small side-table and find your place from where you left off yesterday.

You stay submerged as long as you can, lost in another world, until your skin prickles from the cold, toes puckered from the water.

Stepping out, you dress yourself in a plain tunic and trousers before heading back to your room. This time you grab another book, a heavy, leather-bound thing from the large table near your small, but efficient, fireplace. This one was borrowed, and you had to make sure you returned it this morning before it was missed. You weren’t forbidden from leaving your room, but you had learned a long time ago it was better to just stay out of sight when possible.

Tucking the book into your bag, you open your door, just enough to peek an eye outside. When the coast is clear, you sneak down the hallway, and into the library.

The large library is quiet, and you have no problem slipping the missing novel back onto the shelf, and picking out another from the opposite side of the room. It goes back into your bag, and then you’re off in search of some sustenance.

Winding your way down the stone steps, you make your way to the kitchen. The room is busy like usual, but there’s always a little cheese, meat, and bread tucked to the side for you. It’s been years since you attended a formal lunch, you always made excuses when you could, and no one ever requested your presence.

One of the cooks, an older man that you had always gotten along with, bumps you with his hip as you’re grabbing the small stash they saved for you. He gives you a conspiratorial wink, and shows you the cloth he has in his hand, containing half a dozen small sweet rolls. He sneaks them next to your other food, giving your shoulder a friendly pat as he moves past you.

You give him a smile and a genuine thanks, taking the cloth-wrapped bundle and tucking it into the pocket of your bag. One or two were for you, of course, you had a major sweet tooth, but the rest were for your brother, if you happened to see him today.

But you didn’t run into him, even though you took the long, winding path back to your room. Part of you wondered if they were keeping him busy on purpose, you had barely seen him lately. He did have lessons, but surely they’d give him a break sometime. You made a note to dedicate tomorrow to tracking him down.

--

Back in your room, the rest of the afternoon had been spent on small hobbies, and then you decided to take a nice, long nap. There’s a low, droning sound as you doze, and your lids crack open as the sound registers in your sleepy brain.

It was the sound of a ship approaching the hangar. Ships in this area were unusual, most of the time they used the public landing pad a few miles down the road, past the south end of town. The one near the castle was private, for the royal family and guests, only. And you hadn’t heard anything about any guests.

You can see the ship touching down from your balcony door, it looked rough, still flying, but rough. Unlatching the lock, you creep outside to watch, the loud droning dying out as the ship touches down and turns off.

A ramp extends from the side, and a figure steps out, the sun glinting off some sort of armor they are wearing. It’s shiny, a chrome-like metal that you can see even from your current distance. They converse with one of the mechanics that approaches him, and after a few minutes as he points an arm towards town. The figure nods, and starts moving out of the hanger and towards that direction.

Achingly curious, you sneak back inside, latching the door behind you. You root around in the chest by your bed, throwing on a brown, threadbare cloak, pulling the hood up over your head.

Sneaking out should in theory be easy, there was hardly anyone in the back staircase, and it lets you out into the side of the garden. Luck seems to be on your side today, and you make it out and through the garden without incident.

By the time you make it down the long pathway to the city, the figure is quite a bit ahead of you. Fortunately for you, they stick out in the shiny metal, even the afternoon shadows creeping in can’t seem to touch it.

They are deep in the market district when you catch up, currently perusing a seemingly vacant stall, the shelves stacked with general goods. The stall is tucked towards the edge of the district, away from most of the foot traffic. The owner of the stall isn’t even visible, but you’re sure they’re behind the cloth canopy draping across the back half.

You stop short, using the shadows of a neighboring stall to watch as they work their way across the countertop, making small, neat stacks of rations and dried meats.

Their movements are subtle, hands ghosting over piles of items in search of whatever supply list they had in their head. You observe quietly for a while, and jump when you hear an almost-robotic sounding voice break the relative quiet.

“Can I help you?” Their tone is flat, the unexpected sound coming from the person in armor in front of you.

You twist your head, looking up and down the aisle to see who he’s talking to. The stall owner has still not stepped out, most likely conversing with their neighbor.

“You, girl. In the shadows.” He clarifies - you assume they’re male from the deep pitch of their voice.

Freezing, you watch as his head turns giving you a good look at his profile. He makes a sound, almost like a sigh, “I can see you. Come on out.”

Oh. He’s talking to you.

You step out of the shadows, walking slowly over towards the booth. He watches you quietly, waiting until you’re standing a few feet away.

You had read about Mandalorians a bit, in some of the older books in the library. There wasn’t a lot about them, from what you understood a lot of their history was passed down orally. But you had never thought you’d get to see one, much less meet one for that matter.

Suddenly aware of your manners, from years of etiquette shoved down your throat, you flush slightly at your own rudeness.

“I apologize,” your nose wrinkles, “It was rude of me to stare, I’ve just never seen a Mandalorian before.”

His head turns back to look at the stall, his voice quiet as he answers, “We do not come to the Mid Rim very often.”

It’s not an outright dismissal, so you tentatively take a step closer. You try to glance subtly at him, taking in what you can as he continues to browse.

He’s tall, a little more than a head taller than you with the armor, and broad-shouldered. His armor gleams, painstakingly polished, and his long cloak, tattered at the ends, catches the slight breeze in the air.

“What, uh,” You offer, when it becomes clear he’s not going to ask you anything. “What brings you to town?”

His hands pick up another small puck of rations, adding it to the stack in his hands. He seems to think about this for a moment, before replying, “Work.”

“Oh.” You hip leans against the edge of the stall, and you pivot to look at him, “Looking for work?”

He shakes his head as he clarifies, “I am here for my employer.”

You want to ask what he does, why he would be here. Your planet is small, and not nearly as technically-advanced as the most of the planets in the Middle and Inner Rim. The was a scattering of settlements across the land, this city being the biggest. But the entire population of the planet would be dwarfed in a city such as Coruscant, or so you’ve been told.

“You’re not a bandit, are you?” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow, “Or a gangster?”

He probably wasn’t, but over the past few years, the overall crime had risen drastically. Small crime organizations had begun to set up small camps around the bigger-sized cities in the area, harassing the citizens for money in exchange for protection. You knew this because you had heard your Father talk about it, about the pressure of keeping the peace when cities were getting attacked at night.

His head swivels slowly to look at you, his annoyance almost palpable. You flash a smile, and he seems to realize you were teasing him, because he makes noise that sounds like a huff.

“No, I am not.”

“If you’re not a bandit, then what do you do?”

“Are you always so talkative?” His voice is short, and you pause.

“Well, no-” you hesitate, voice immediately apologetic. Your brow crinkles as you look at him, confidence rapidly waning, “I, uh- don’t get to talk that much, actually. Not really supposed to.”

His helmet fully turns to the side now, tilting down towards you. It’s unnerving, looking into the dark tint of a visor, not being able to see a face for context.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, “Not supposed to?”

You shrug, one shoulder lifting and then dropping casually. It would be stupid to tell this man who you are, and you already have been a little too open with this stranger.

A woman steps up to the stall, from a low pile of pillows in the back, saving you from answering. She is old and stooped, hair white with age and long, shining like starlight.

“Sorry dearie,” her voice is birdlike, eyes kind beneath wrinkles of wisdom. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

You smile at her, asking her a few questions about how her day was going, as the Mandalorian stacked his purchases in front of her. She tallies them up carefully, whispering figures under her breath as she does.

Before she can give a price, you are rooting around in your bag, pulling out a fistful of credits which you pass to her. You’re not sure how much his rations cost, but you figure you’re probably pretty close.

“They’re on me, for your patience.” Your head tilts as you eye the Mandalorian, your practiced tone almost hiding the embarrassment in your voice. Almost.

“No,” The woman’s hand closes around yours, trying to push some of the credits back, “No, it’s too much-”

“Please.” You turn towards her, smiling gracefully. “Please, for taking up so much of your time today.”

Her hand relaxes, drawing the stack quickly into her pouch. The woman’s eyes meet yours, shining in the afternoon light, “Thank you milady, your kindness won’t be forgotten.”

The Mandalorian is silent next to you, his hands the only thing that moves as he tucks the purchases into the bag slung across his chest. He moves then, giving the woman a short bow of his helmet as he steps out into the walkway again.

“Thank you.” He offers quietly.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, and you’re getting ready to just walk away when he asks, “My ship requires a few mechanical parts, can you point me towards a stall that carries that?”

It’s as close to an apology as you’re going to get, but you take it. You smile with a nod, gesturing with your hand for him to follow you.

--

You don’t learn much more about him as he browses another stall, just that he’s from the Outer Rim, he’s had his ship for a long time, and that he really is there for work, but won’t tell you what.

And that he’s only here until tomorrow, which for some reason makes your stomach twist in disappointment.

The two of you found a stall that had the things he wanted, old pre-empire engine parts for ships. He’s been making a small stack of wiring and mechanical pieces. You have no idea what any of it is, but you still try to help him look, plucking out wires and pieces in the shape he describes.

He finally seems done, a neat pile of parts gathered in front of him as the owner of the stall steps forward.

Before you can offer he’s shaking his head, “I got this, you can’t pay for everything.”

You shrug, hands dropping from your bag. He’s gathering his things and you’re just standing there, debating your next move.

He’s not grumpy, but he’s guarded. But he hasn’t chased you away or dismissed you yet, and although he seems to edit his answers, he does give them.

“Can I walk with you back to your ship?” You summon your courage to ask, “You’re at the northern hanger right?”

You phrase this as a guess - as if you didn’t know, as if you hadn’t been watching him land.

He’s clearly done with shopping, but you’re not ready to leave him yet. The only other person that talks to you regularly is your brother, and he’s been too busy to spend much time with you these past few days. Even his edited answers are a welcome break in your stir-crazy mind.

“Are you sure that’s a smart question?” He counters, but he pauses, turning to face you. “Isn’t it dangerous, walking that far out of the city this late?”

“No, the hangar is close to where I live. And aren’t Mandalorians supposed to be honorable?”

“Some are.” He allows.

“Are you?”

The two of you look at each other for a long moment, before he slowly nods his head.

You huff, “Then how can I be in danger if I’m walking with the most dangerous man in the city?”

He makes a noise, a low hum that almost sounds amused. But then he nods, a short jerk of his head, “Fine. Let’s go.”

You let him lead the way, weaving through the mostly-empty streets as the sun sets. The stalls are closing up, only the taverns and inns staying open at night. By now, your questions are used up, and you can’t think of anything else to ask.

He actually asked you a few questions as well while the two of you walked. If you really live near the hanger, what you were doing in town, but you answered just as vaguely as he did.

The walk, which usually seemed to take forever, seems to be done in just mere minutes. You follow him in, walking over to the large ship near the front.

You hadn’t been on a ship before, and your eyes swept over it greedily for a moment before you realize the Mandalorian was looking at you.

Well, this was it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mandalorian.” You smile, your hands twisting behind you back as you rock on your heels.

“You as well.” His head dips, just a fraction, “Hurry home now, little bird.”

Your heart pounds, eyes trying to soak up as much as you can before you’re turning, feet taking you back towards the pathway. You tell yourself not to look back, but before you step out of the hanger you risk one last glance.

He’s still standing there, gloved hand resting on the smooth side of his ship, body still as stone.

Your head snaps forward again, a flush staining your cheeks as you step back onto the worn dirt road. Looking straight ahead, you don’t look back again as you make your way towards the side of the castle.

When you get back to your room, you change into your sleeping clothes before sliding under the covers. Pulling your favorite book from the stack by your bed, you settle in to read the current chapter.

Despite your efforts, the words twist and blur in front of you, eyes unfocusing as you think about the stranger, the Mandalorian, that was for some reason in your city.

The smooth baritone of his voice, his easy grace when moving. How dangerous he probably was, but how kind he had been to you. He was interesting, the most interesting person you had ever met, even though he had barely told you anything about him.

A long while had passed before you noticed you were looking at the top of the page, still stuck on the first line. Shaking your head, you force those other thoughts out of your mind.

You’re never going to see him again, anyways. Better not to dwell on it.

-----

References: Hapuntep - From Star Wars Legends, was a planet ruled by a monarchy Indupar - a Mid Rim world in Ado sector. It was the capital of the Induparan Crown Worlds. It was ruled by the Induparan Monarchy and House Indupar. Ec Pand - was a Mid Rim world that was located within the Ado sector, and was one of the Induparan Crown Worlds. Borotavi Syndrome - was a fatal disease caused by eating a deadly shellfish

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