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jessicas-pi · 9 months

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MANDALORIANAKIN AU INCORRECT QUOTES

Anakin: You have your weirdly sincere humility. Bo-Katan: I prefer the term "self-loathing", actually.

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Korkie: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Anakin: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

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Anakin: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity? Bo-Katan, turning to Fenn: How tall are you?

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Anakin: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL- Satine: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!

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Satine: I think you're still suffering the effects of your party last night. Anakin: All I drank was Space Redbull! Satine: How many? Anakin: Eighteen.

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Anakin: Never gonna make you cry! Korkie: Never gonna say goodbye! Anakin: Never gonna tell a lie— Bo-Katan: I will hurt you.

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Korkie: Hey, Auntie Bo? I need advice. Bo-Katan: I’m pretty useless at giving advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment instead?

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*Satine brings Anakin to the Jedi Temple for a visit while she's on Coruscant* Obi-Wan: Would you like to stay for dinner? Qui-Gon, fron the kitchen: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

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Fenn: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. Bo-Katan: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

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Fenn: Why are you on fire? Anakin: This is just how my day is going.

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Anakin (age 9): Miss Satine, I want a bedtime story! Satine: I’ve got a speech to write for a meeting in the morning. I’ll tell you one tomorrow, okay? Anakin: If you don’t tell me a story, I won’t go to bed! Satine: Satine: Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Anakin, who always wanted things his way. One day, his friends got sick of it and locked him in the basement for the rest of their life. Everyone else lived happily ever after. The end. Anakin: I don’t like these stories with morals.

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Satine: Fenn, gather the others. We need to have another Anakin-is-doing-something-stupid-again-and-we-have-to-stop-him-before-he-hurts-someone convention.

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Korkie and Anakin (when they're kids): Can we go out to get ice cream? Bo-Katan: Did you ask Satine? Korkie: She said no. Bo-Katan: Then why did you ask me? Anakin: She's not the boss of you! Bo-Katan, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

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Fenn: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Bo-Katan: It was autocorrect. Fenn: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Bo-Katan: Yes.

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Anakin: Padme and I are having another child! Sabine Wren: Aww, congrats! I bet Leia and Luke are so exci— Anakin: *slams down adoption papers* it's you, sign here

#mando anakin au #mandalorianakin au #SEE I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN THIS AU AFTER ALL #star wars #incorrect quotes #anakin skywalker #bo katan kryze #korkie kryze #fenn rau #satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #obitine #qui gon jinn #sabine wren

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hanasnx · 1 year

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Imma jus keep flooding your ask box bec that's just how I am🏃🏾‍♀️ but this tiktok has me thinking.... imagine an au where anakin is a mandalorian...??? Like hear me out on that😮‍💨😩

Love the og mando but it can always be better with my fave Skywalker </3

link

hello vana! can you pls tell me your secret as to how your asks live rent free in my head???? you are welcome to flood my inbox anytime

im not joking. this one and the last one ive thought of periodically since i read them

i found this post a bit ago of mando!anakin <3 thought youd like it: mandalorian fanart link

☥ i have a huge suit and mask kink if you cant tell already im a mess over dudes in full head to toe gear bonus points if theyre stoic and only speak when absolutely necessary. fucking delicious i eat it up everytime.

☥ anakin’s canon personality kinda fits with that of mando from the show. gravely serious, quiet and calculative in strategic situations, no patience for nonsense, acquires a child and- after fighting the decision- grows attached to it, fierce loyalty to his family.

☥ mando’s armor is so fucking hot oh my fucking god i want him to do me with the helmet on and then imagining anakin underneath it all>???? i feel faint.

☥ imagine him being a bounty hunter eeeeeee

☥ like you two come across each other like you were sitting at the bar and he comes up to talk to the bartender if she’s seen a certain face around. you love the sound of his voice omffmggm, you can tell theres a slight mod to it and it just adds to the rasp. the bartender asks him to wait a second while she goes to the back. so you turn on the charm,

“bounty hunter?”

he pivots his head, marginally. and gives a single slow nod. you smile at him, down your drink.

“big fan of bounty hunters, one time a hunter saved my sister. would love to buy you a drink.”

“can’t. working.”

“afterwards? we both know you’re gonna catch that sleazebag you’re tracking. you look like the type that doesn’t stop til he gets what he wants, right?”

oh, how right you were.

he doesn’t say anything, so you assume it’s not a no. “mandalorian armor… would love to know what you look like under it all.” generously, you eyes travel him from boots to helmet.

“how do you know i’m not one of those guys that’s vowed to keep the helmet on?”

finally, a sentence. you must’ve caught his attention. “i wouldn’t mind that.” your ambiguous flirt left room to his imagination. having implied that it didn’t matter if he kept the helmet on, just as long as you got to see his cock pistoning into you. that was a little too forward for this kind of interaction.

he bows his head, and you envision the way he must be looking at you through his brows. either intrigued or appalled. the guessing game thrills you to say the least.

you point out his mark to him, behind the two of you, sucking on the neck of a twi’lek. “you owe me, hunter.” it was a harmless joke.

the twinkling of a couple credits sounds against the bar counter.

“for your next drink.” he answers your questioning glance.

☥ maybe by making your attraction to him apparent enough, he says fuck it, and after catching and collecting his bounty that very night, he comes back to the bar to see if you’re still there.

☥ maybe you somehow convince him to do you in the dark alley behind the disreputable bar. to your delight, he let you take off his helmet so he could fuck your mouth with his tongue while he slipped his cock out of the confines of his armor and fuck you for real. it’s not like his line of work allows for any time for himself, and the warmth of a willing woman is few and far in between. of course he melts into you once you say the right things. falls for how desperate and noisy your pussy is, slurping him up. sinking into your wet heat and panting into each others mouths.

☥ appearances didn’t matter to you much, and you were buzzed enough to not care. however, imagine your pleasant surprise to see someone so fucking pretty hiding underneath the mask.

☥ imagine yall start a fun little fwb relationship after this so he can fuck all his frustrations out using you <3

#kentovana #thanks for the msg!!#indy shoots the shit #anakin skywalker imagine #mando!anakin #anakin #anakin skywalker smut #reader insert #anakin skywalker x reader #x f!reader #au!anakin skywalker #x y/n

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starboundanon · 7 months

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The recent ask about Foundling Luke and your answer gave me a visceral need for a De-Aged Luke being fiercely protected by Artoo 😭 I'm just saying but in your WIP where both Luke and Vader are De-Aged i can see Artoo being ambivalent about Vader because it's Friend Ani but it's also Enemy Vader so he settles with Must Protect Little Angel (Luke) as a compromise and goes from helping Vader to mend things and all to purposefully fucking him over at the drop of a hat😭 i just need my favorite disaster husbands (namely Artoo and Threepio) to be given some love too

- 7 AM Anon, just as excited about all your other WIPs as I am with SotF

Rest assured, my friend, if protective Artoo is where your heart is, both the Mando Foundling au and the deaged!Luke & Vader au will be right up your alley. ☺️

#more so in the deaged!Luke & Vader au ‘cause. yk. Anakin’s all Sithy #but we’ll certainly get moments of it in mando foundling au too #although lbr #Din tolerates it much worse than Anakin/Vader lmao #grumpy droid hating dad meets fiesty sunshine droid loving son #that’s it that’s the fic summary #herbie asks

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tennessoui · 1 year

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Mandolorian empire with mando!obi and jedi anakin, enemies to lovers? (Maybe ashoka is in there too so they have a child, technically.)

this took forever to find in the bowels of my blog

but this is a ficlet i wrote with mandalorian anakin and jedi obi-wan and it's so small and i never talk about it but i'm too attached to this mando anakin and this jedi obi-wan to imagine them fitting anywhere else really

(anakin is satine's adopted brother and accompanies her and padawan obi-wan on their year on the run. they fall in antagonistic love.)

#asks #obikin #mandalorian!anakin #<this is the dumbest tag ive ever used for any ficlet or au i hate myself #i guess ive also thrown around the idea of mando obi-wan being forced to get engaged to vader from the empire #and vader recognizes the red armor as the mandalorian who is always wreaking havoc #on the empire's plans #but i like this better tbh

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snaurus · 4 months

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UPDATE: The Middle (11/19)

Pairings: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker Ratings: T Categories: Action/Adventure, Drama, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Blood & Injury, Dismemberment, Violence The Jedi Order, alongside the Galactic Republic in which they accompany, have been entangled in the Clone Wars and Mandalorian-Jedi War simultaneously. But that is potentially set to change. Mand'alor Din Djarin has agreed to meet with representatives for the first time in history. Recently appointed Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, his Padawan learner Grogu, and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi must embark to Mandalore and attend the delegations, with the hopes of reaching a compromise.

As promised, here is my direct sequel to The Beginning, a continuation of the events in that story! At last we can follow Luke, and in turn Grogu and Din, as they work to bring understanding between their people.

Somewhat like before, chapters will be posted every Friday, until reaching chapter...14! Yes, for those following along, I've managed to scrape together another 5 chapters. I originally wanted to stop prior to chapter 10 because it would have left the story on a major cliffhanger, which I thought was rather cruel. But since I'm past that, I will be continuing until I reach the latest completed chapter and go on a temporary hiatus to finish the rest, or until the story is completed if I manage to get that far during these upcoming weeks.

In this eleventh chapter, the aftermath of The Incident.

[AO3: Part 11]

#dinluke #din djarin #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #darth maul #savage opress #cartoons & comics #continuation #movies #my writing #snarechan's writing #star wars #television shows #the clone wars #the mandalorian #the middle #the timeline (jedi mando au)#UPDATE

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x-authorship-x · 9 months

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mmm fuck ok.

the uchihas as one of the few dynasties in the temple, fugaku is a master, well known and quite prideful about it, itachi is his son but is in the temple because 'hey i cant be attached to the kid if i never see him', shisui is mikoto (non jedi)'s nephew same as usual, except he's force sensitive and is basically used by fugaku to keep an eye on itachi for him cos he can't. o66 happens when shisui is like 12 and a half, he's one of the best initiates but is at risk of aging out because he's keeps turning down masters until itachi can become a padawan too. then boom o66, what you said happens, he's out as a pretty skilled (but temporarily blind) initiate and learning from luke.

for more uchihas, sasuke was only like 3 when o66 happened and mikoto refused to give him to the creche despite him being force sensitive, so he's and mikoto are still alive, but fugaku got merked with the rest of the order, so they eventually hear of this mandalorian with grogu and some dude who looks like their long lost cousin/nephew. sasuke is now almost the same age itachi was when he died, which makes shisui FEEL THINGS

sorry ive gone a bit nuts in this ask

Yes, Hiding. YES

Also absolutely fascinated that Fugaku thought he could, what, do an Anakin with Mikoto- hmm, maybe because the Uchiha are famously force sensitive, and pretty... similar to each other, Fugaku figured that so long as he was basically nothing but a sperm donor then no one would actually think he had the BALLS to father a son AND THEN KEEP HIM AT THE TEMPLE LOL, he wouldn't be breaking Creed but more... Bending... And then Itachi can grow, become a Padawan and Knight, and support Fugaku's ambitions in the council.... And it seemed to be working, with Itachi's complimentary bodyguard in the form of Shisui at his beck and call, so Fugaku sired Sasuke... And then it all went to shit at the Temple! Good news Anakin, you CAN have a wife and kids without going Sith but only if you're dead inside!

#i know thats not WHY anakin went dark OKAY #torship #torship talks #ask #hiding #hidingfromthefeels #shisui #force sensitive shisui #mando shisui #star wars au

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direwolfrules · 1 year

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3 Mandos and a Baby AU: The Republic

For the first part of this AU things go according to canon for the wider Republic. Listen, they are four time traveling dumbasses who can barely manage to fix one sector, they’re not even going to attempt to touch that dumpster fire. When the Clone Wars break out they’re more than okay with hunkering down and trying to fortify Mandalore. Honestly, the survivors of the Siege of Mandalore could do with never seeing another plastoid covered clone in their lives.

Unfortunately for them Korkie’s a bleeding heart with a passionate hatred for slavery. He was partially raised by the force ghosts of Jaster Mereel and Myles the Mandalorian, two people who spent half their time screaming about the bastard slaver cowards who really killed Jango, long before Mace Windu’s lightsaber ever entered the picture, and 99, who tells Korkie such terrible stories about Kamino that he gets nightmares.

Korkie fucks off to Coruscant to deliver an address to the Senate. Everyone’s all tense because last they heard from the Mandalore system was there was a coup. Quite a few people are worried about whatever this barbaric, savage warlord is going to say. And what has he done to poor Duchess Satine?! (He gave her a “sorry for overthrowing your government” card, that’s what he did)

Korkie rolls up to the Senate dome in full armor, calls them all slaving monsters, and then pledges Mandalore to fight with Republic on the condition that they get at least partial control of Kamino’s security. They’re not going to be fighting for the Republic, Korkie says, they’re gonna be fighting for all the Mandalorian citizens they’ve enslaved for this war. (Clone freedom underground go brrrrr)

The Senate’s going crazy. One guy, maybe the Senator from Nemodia, questions what he’s done with good Duchess Satine and why should they entrust the source of their army to an illegitimate ruler? Korkie responds with “Honestly, do you all think I killed my aunt?” and sets the record straight but like, everyone comes away feeling nervous and with the impression that the Kryze family needs serious therapy.

Obi-Wan lets out the world’s tiniest sigh of relief upon hearing the news that Satine was okay. And also kinda surprised that she has a nephew because last he checked her and Bo-Katan didn’t have any siblings? Eh, she probably just adopted a more distant clan member or something.

Anakin’s not sure how to feel about the new Mand’alor. Like, the guy said he’d fight with them, and he made it really clear he hates slavery. Two massive pluses in his book. But he had rubbed the Chancellor the wrong way. Anakin’s knows this because Palpatine stopped Padme to chat about how much of a power grab Mandalore was making with these demands and how much of threat this was and stuff. And Anakin trusts the Chancellor. Plus, Obi-Wan’s been super freaked out since news of the coup hit the holo. Anakin is supposed to be the biggest source of stress in Obi-Wan’s life!

The Senate quickly comes to anticipate Korkie’s visits with a healthy combination of fear and awe. It seems like every time he shows up another dozen or so Senators are arrested for corruption related reasons. One time he just pops in to read off Orn Fre Taa’s crimes for over three hours. Each individual offense is read out, and when he gets to the slaving he reads out every name. Every goddamn name.

Bo can’t help but be proud and also a little sad, When he’s up there giving his passionate speeches about tyranny she’s reminded of another Korkie, one who may have lived had he not kept running back into the fires that night.

Anyway, Korkie’s always wearing armor and the helmet mic + they fact that this boy is tall makes him seem older than he is. The first time anyone outside of Mandalore sees him without his helmet he’s on the Coronet, escorting his Aunt Satine to go speak on his behalf on the issue of clone rights. The cast of who’s on the ship changes only slightly, Padme joins in place of Orn Fre Taa and Mandalore’s new senator is Vel Batin, who’s honestly just so cool and may or may not have adopted like seven vode.

Korkie takes off his helmet for dinner and everyone just kinda chokes cause that is a child. Well, except Obi-Wan. He chokes cause that is teenage him sitting across the way. Well, except the ears, but seriously what the hell? Anakin pulls a pro-gamer move and says something like “Huh, I didn’t know Mandalore had child politicians too. How old are you?”

And Korkie being a cheeky little shit answers 17 while putting on his best Kenobi smile, and then immediately goes back to texting Fenn about the new ad Bo totally isn’t adopting. Obi-Wan proceeds to have a mental breakdown over the salad, Satine is just left sitting there awkwardly, and Anakin and Padme are left sipping martinis while everyone else is confused what just happened and still reeling from the revelation that the Mand’alor is a teenage boy. Orn Fre Taa was thrown in prison by a teenage boy. The senate was read for filth by a teenage boy. Suddenly a lot of things make a lot more sense.

The GAR love Korkie. Like, when he shows up to the Senate every brother who’s able tunes in to watch his speeches. The Coruscant Guard have named him their official vod’ika. The 212th contest this on the grounds that he is their general’s biological son. The 501st just likes that he sent the Children of the Watch to the Kamino system just in time to save those stationed at Rishi base.

Palpatine’s attempts to discredit the kid or paint him as a savage monster Mando of old keep getting derailed by the fact Korkie’s just a genuinely nice kid with an excellent PR team (our favorite nameless theater kid found his calling). A holo recording of him giving Satine the “sorry I overthrew your government” card goes viral, people love that sheepish smile he has on. A whole news segment is dedicated to times he’s saved children/clones/government officials. Not to mention the cadre of animals that always follow him around.

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padawansuggest · 2 years

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Screenshot of Obi-Wan’s phone

“Obi-Wan: *screenshot of SpacePal account showing he just got a 1000 credit transfer from Satine* ???

Satine: I saw you painting your armor, silly boy, you can get that professionally done!

Obi-Wan: …okay… I mean, thanks? That’s a little high for a professional job, though?

Satine: That’s fine, baby, just have a nice day out too! Love my boy!”

Anakin, replying to said screenshot: Pocket the money and keep painting the armor yourself. That’s what I do when Padme sends me money for getting my nails and hair done.

Obi-Wan: lol I know, I sent you the screenshot so you know why I need to hide in your house till I’m finished and she isn’t offended that I want to do it myself.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #incorrect star wars quotes #anakin skywalker #anidala #obitine #satine kryze #sugar baby au #sugar mommy Satine #sugar mommy Padme #Obi got his armor after marrying Satine #but I want an AU where Satine isn’t new Mando cause we nazis lmao #she was adopted by Jaster Mereel and so they have to suffer with Jango as their ori’vod now lmaoooo #Obi is regularly called ‘the only one of these brats I wanted’ by Jaster when Satine and Jango are fighting #which is constantly #Jaster also has Arla and all of Satine’s siblings #he also considers Anakin to be his grandson and Ani loves it #Shmi might be flirting with Arla a little

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slenderboo · 1 year

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Recently I came across some old "qui gon jinn lives" aus for the prequel trilogy, and since tales of the jedi came out like a week ago it got me thinking.

qui gon lives aus just got a whole lot more interesting since now, they canonically would also imply that dooku's fall could reasonably happen a lot later, or not at all depending on how you structure his narrative arc.

this sets up more stuff down the line as well; darth maul could either return as a sith apprentice again, now more powerful than ever and constantly seeking out obi-wan and qui-gon.

Or, you could have asajj ventress ascend to be palpatine's new apprentice, potentially sticking with him as she's pulled deeper into the dark side than she ever was as Dooku's apprentice, or conversely, her eventual betrayal could be even more climactic. I'd personally love to see a power struggle between her and Maul; the fact that they're both dathomiri could mean more exploration into their culture and societal structure.

the end-all-be-all for me would, of course, be that while Dooku would already be working for the Emperor over a decade before the Clone Wars, he'd still have Qui-Gon tying him down to the Order. Not only that, but he'd probably meet Obi-Wan (I maintain that they would get along super well) and Anakin, which is the most interesting in my opinion. Dooku and Anakin are shown to have very similar ideologies about the Jedi and their morals. There's a lot of space there to play around with character arcs and narrative directions, whether it be Dooku aiding in Anakin's fall or Anakin finding a healthy middle ground between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's (perceived) model Jedi-ness and whatever the hell Anakin has going on.

It'd certainly be interesting to explore in depth, both from a "how can this completely destroy canon" way and a "same outcome, different way of getting there" style narrative.

#dooku doesn't fall #star wars #tales of the jedi #master dooku #count dooku #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon lives #that was a lot longer than I expected #oops #excited to see what ao3 comes up with in terms of now that tales is out #I'm usually not the biggest fan of aus but ones like those are incredibly interesting if they're executed well #with that being said #I'm going to recede into my TBB comfort corner for the next 6 months #see you when mando season 3 comes out

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jebiknights · 2 years

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Star Wars but Shmi was a Mandalorian, put into slavery later than in canon (? Idk if there is a canon age where she was became a slave, but I keep seeing that it was when she was 6? Correct me if I’m wrong) and she’s gotten time to have her armor and such. So she then teaches Anakin all this Mando stuff, which could affect his training - it probably would affect his training - but the fun part is when the war starts. And then the war starts, and he’s like “Okay well surely this is a valid reason to get armor finally” so boom armor! I think he at first just paints it kinda like how his mom described her armor, but that as he gets closer and closer to the 501st he starts incorporating his own colors and their colors. Also he was so excited when he heard they knew Mando’a, because Obi-wan is great and all, but man was it boring just having one person to speak Mando’a with.

He also definitely had a lecture with Ashoka about what she was wearing, because omg has anyone heard of battle appropriate clothes? Or maybe, idk, armor??? She absolutely complains, until she gets her first piece of armor

AHHH I AM ALWAYS DOWN FOR MANDO ANAKIN PLEASE (in all honesty I think the supercommando codex would be a good code for him to follow, gives him structure and direction and with the right mentor it would overall I think be very positive for him - granted he isnt under palps thumb).

ANYWAY Mando Shmi is a very interesting concept *eyes*, though I'm ngl, surprised there's no bitterness from Anakin that none of the Mandalorians came to rescue Shmi considering she was a lost child from their clan? Like I don't think Shmi would hold bitterness but idk, I think Anakin might at some point.

I also think the Jedi would probably let Anakin wear armor if he wanted to even before the clones come around but dfijgsifj love him getting excited to don armor and to possibly/probably be matching with his men! Honestly I think the clones would also be very excited at least one of their Jedi is all in on wearing armor whenever he can. There's also something sweet about say, Anakin trying to remember how his mother described their clan's/house's sigil, so he can paint it onto his armor opposite the Jedi Order symbol. All in 501st blue, a representation of all of his families!

If Anakin has Mando heritage (and is like, chill with it), it's probably the most sure fire way for Obi-Wan to get him to pay attention to his politics lectures too. Anakin would be the type to fixate on something like that, so they'd probably have so many conversations about Mandalorian history, the language, the current culture and political arena, what it means to reconcile both his Mandalorian and Jedi heritage as historical enemies. It's definitely a very fun lens to position an au around!!

#anakin skywalker #mandalorian anakin skywaker #star wars au #sw au #anakin #mandos #asks #anon #anonymous

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jessicas-pi · 1 year

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Family is more than blood.

In fact, sometimes family is you, your wife, your mom, your other mom, your other mom’s not-boyfriend, your little cousin/brother (and his three friends,) your cool aunt, the guy who babysat you through your childhood, a ridiculously tall Jedi who freed you from slavery, a ridiculously taller Togruta Jedi, your twin children, the graffiti girl who crashes on your couch periodically, the Jedi boy who tags along with her, and 3 million clones.

(click for better quality)

(First chapter of this AU is posted here!)

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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I was reading a fic that touched on the awkward Anakin&Obi-Wan age difference a few days ago, and for some reason the thought that occurred to me was not the usual "Qui-Gon married Shmi after Tahl's death, so they're stepbrothers" but, rather… a solid explanation for weird age differences is being an aunt or uncle.

And I think there is something to be explored, in an AU, with the idea of Obi-Wan being Shmi's younger brother.

I don't know what to do with this but I think it could be fun especially if spliced with one of those Stewjon-is-in-Mando-Space settings whether by blood or by an adoption (lots of options), but in some way them just being Connected before anything.

There are a lot of plot options here, but rn my mind is on

Anakin mentions to Qui-Gon that his mom always said her baby stepbrother left to be a Jedi, long before she left home and got captured by slavers, maybe Qui-Gon knows him!

Qui-Gon entertains that as a child parroting a story that was told to give him hope rather than actual fact

Then he meets Shmi and goes Oh Shit, Wait, Did She Just Say Her Brother's Name Was Obi-Wan, Fuck"

I would hope that Qui-Gon would have the foresight to go "this is going to come out the second Anakin introduces himself, if Obi-Wan remembers basically Anything, or if Anakin has ever heard his 'Jedi Uncle's' name."

And so when Qui-Gon calls up Obi-Wan, he's just like "Hey... so... like... do you remember anything about your birth family? You know, from before the Jedi? Did you have a sister? Do you know her name? Ah. Okay. Right. So. About that."

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #shmi skywalker #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #phoenix posts

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starboundanon · 1 year

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been reading through all your fics and i love them all so much, even the previews. especially your mando foundling fic (i NEED the full fic herbie) the only one i didn’t enjoy was the whump obikin from brassknuckles, obiwan would never hit anakin 😭

he cut three of his limbs off and left him to slowly burn alive

#for the record in tali’s actual whump verse fic I doubt obi-wan would ever hit him either #so no worries there #but like #lmao #this is dark obi-wan #and regular ass ‘i will do what i must’ obi-wan rocked anakin’s shit #anyways THANK you for reading my work #i’m glad you enjoyed the snippets of things to come #and every week we get closer and closer to the Mando foundling AU so please keep looking forward to that!!!#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #herbie asks

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tremendum · 7 months

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twin suns ; your shadow at morning

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

part three of the Twin Suns series ; prologue ; part i ; part ii

pairing: au (canon-divergent), western-inspired Din Djarin x fem!bounty!reader (afab, w use of woman, girl, etc) rating: eventually explicit in future chapters. slow slow burn. (18+. mdni.)

warnings: canon-typical violence, themes of hunting/being hunted, fear, a brief mention of vomit twice, pretty bad injuries and descriptions of reader's blood/injury,, temporary blindness still, mean!Mando, lots of sand description like anakin would h8 this, slightly possessive themes

synopsis: “the messenger nods, his expression revealing nothing. 'good. prepare yourselves. the journey is long, and the desert does not forgive hesitation.'”

word count: 4.7k.

notes: hii :) silly how i haven't posted in months??? sorry ive been away, just having a hard time rn. but here's part 3, it's still going a bit slow because i love a good slow burn but we're getting to some yummy parts in the next few chapters ;) lmk if ive missed ur tag, i lost my taglist.

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for what may be the first time in years, you don't wake up with a start.

this visit to consciousness is pulled rather slowly from a lone yearning sensation. you're not sure what it is - or if it's even real - a feeling deep in the corner of your brain that urges something along the lines of wake up! wake up!

and when your brain finally starts to stir, it's with a heaving breath of pain from deep within you, as if someone had taken the spongy material and hurled it against the dartboard of a cantina.

your face twitches against something gritty. oh- there's kriffing sand in your teeth. on your tongue.

it feels heavy, dusty. wake up!

your eyes open slowly as you let out an exhale into the rusty ground.

they slide open like dry, grating sandpaper against your tired irises, but to your shock, you're met with nothing - nothing changes, besides a shift from black to mauve.

in a moment of sheer panic, your head reels upwards from the sand and, despite the screams of protest within your throat, you twist your head around.

wait- wait! you can make out a bit of light. there's... two faint dots in your vision, faint and searing at the same time.

twin suns.

you resist the urge to scream or gasp in fear - yet the burning sensation from holding back both still evokes your body to twist slightly from your stomach to your side. it is mere seconds before you are expelling all the remnants of fear and confusion and rage from your stomach to splay across the small mountain ranges of eroded sand carved by wind.

the ringing in your ears ebb when you can finally make out a squeal, a cry - something between the two - less out of pain or horror, but of concern.

green comes into your mind, for whatever reason - then shortly and likely consequently, the faint realization that you cannot fucking see a thing.

oh. oh.

the suns. the miserably lonely nights. stale wind whistling through empty valley corridors. a lonely girl in an abandoned apartment ripped open by the forces of galactic war years ago; blaster at your hip, blades on your thigh.

unfriendly company. a vision of your own face plastered on a holo just to the side of a Neerok table.

that strange metal hunter and his little green accomplice. a tickle of excitement in the shadow that followed you for weeks. a cat and mouse game.

happy hunting, Mando.

a lasso. the headscarf wrapped around a small baby. the carbonite chamber.

maker's mother - Maracavanya.

they'd shot you back down into Tattoine's dunes.

oh Gods, you're wrecked, with the hunter, back on Tattoine.

perhaps your eyes roll back into your head as you slump back - no way to know for sure - a gasp of pain from the left side of your skull. you weakly pull a hand to your brow and it's vaguely warm, wet, sticky when it pulls back. oh.

you wince, your nostrils flaring as you pick up the thick smell of smoke and sharp jetfuel burning.

kriff, those suns are searing behind your unseeing eyes, your legs are still pins and needles, you're- oh, your face is throbbing dully with the numbing agent. maybe carbonite wasn't the worst thing to happen to you in the last thirty minutes.

your hands grasp at the ground, handfuls of sand which slip right through your dry fingers as you keel over again, expelling nothing but bile and then after a few moments nothing but choked, burning air that you fight to suck in and out of your lungs. your head doesn't feel right; be it the blindness or the crash?

the bounty hunter calls your name from far away, as your ears buzz - but the grip you have with your right hand sends a shooting agony through your entire being and a yell of pain ripples through the air.

crying, after that - the baby. you startled him with your roar of pain. fear strikes you - is he okay? he wasn't strapped in when you crashed, was he? you can't remember.

leathered hands wrap around your chest and for a split, childish moment, your arms twitch; almost as if you were about to grab him back. but it's not an embrace, you chastise your foolish, betraying mind.

the Mandalorian wraps something around you, a rope. around your waist again.

it clicks in your head, fuzzy from the crash. how'd you even get out of the ship?

"wh-" you croak, unable to form words as you grapple with your mind for something to ground yourself. "are we back on Tattoine?" you ask, voice much too meek; the blistering heat sure feels like Tattooine. silence, besides a grunt of his own pain from the man who tugs you up onto staggering legs, leading you up through what you imagine is the hull and past the thick burn of smoke that cause you to cough so deep your body starts to sway.

his hands are sturdy and unforgiving on your upper arm until you're guided to what feels like a cot, a severe absence of light causing your mind to panic, heart beating wildly at the sudden loss of sensory cues. it's all black, now.

"is..." you sound so unlike yourself it almost knocks you off your feet. "is the child okay?" you ask, throat burning. it's silent for a moment too long and fear strikes down on your heart, assuming the worst.

"yes." the Mandalorian finally confirms. you let out a shaky sight of relief, nodding as your body is then pushed until you sit on weak legs. "if you're going to pass out, try to stay upright." the voice says, unforgiving.

his footsteps are heavy as he stalks away, your lips screaming silently for water.

a hesitation in the footsteps has your heart thundering in fear, your arms swallowing yourself until you're curled in on your chest. you're too weak to try and protect yourself from him.

the gaze you've come to know is burning though your unseeing eyes; you can almost see that glint of the helmet in your mind. he says nothing, just stares.

you wish he would just leave.

the quiet is so absorbent, it hurts your numb mind. the baritone breaks the silence, again.

"-and if you're going to throw up again, do it on the durasteel."

you're not sure how long you sleep for.

when you wake, you're on your side, slumped against the side of the cot; your neck creaks as you slowly stir upwards, eyes cracking open slowly.

a peek of light creaks in through the hull as you groan, eyebrows furrowing as far as they can. you're puffy, you can feel it. your brow and temple are swelled and likely bruised. looking down out of habit, you can tell that the aching, searing pain in your hand has only worsened - the numbness of the carbonite chamber wearing down too soon.

you're fucked when it's completely gone, realizing now that not only do you likely have a broken hand and several broken ribs, but that your brow bone is surely chipped, your brain bruised from knocking too much against your skull, and you're right and proper screwed.

there's a gash on your thigh that has since stopped bleeding, but you're sure if it's not dressed and attended within forty eight hours, you'll succumb to the sand mites that infest the plains outside. you're too busy assessing your injuries to realize it; when you do, you let out a sharp screech, shaking your head as your hands fly up towards your cheeks.

you can see again - sort of.

light sources peek out at you through a blanket of thick fog.

it's as if you'd taken semi-translucent paint and slathered it over your retinas - especially in the low light, it's hard to catch anything besides a faint glint and the outline of metallic shapes in the hull. still, it fills you with some sort of giddy elation; perhaps spurred on by your head trauma and the sheer shock of the events, you huff a short laugh to yourself. your fingers on your good hand wiggle slightly, you can see the motion as you wave up at yourself.

maybe this isn't a permanent blindness, then.

but a twitch from your bad hand has you gasping in sheer pain, biting down on your lip to keep quiet in fear of stirring the Mandalorian from whatever corner of the ship he lurks in. your stomach flips at the fleeting thought that he could have been there, watching you this whole time in the darker shadows of your sight - and you'd have had no clue.

your moment of joy is over when reality washes over your entire body: you're stuck with the Mandalorian with a severe disadvantage: sure, his ship is wrecked, but you have impairing injuries and little to no sight.

he's likely injured, too, but not enough so that he's unable to use a hand - or his brain- like you.

you deftly get to work, your movements like a well oiled machine after months of repairing yourself on your own. you can't shake the creeping fear that the Mandalorian is watching you; you swear a movement from the corner of your limited sight moves and you nearly jump out of your skin.

if he's there, he doesn't move a muscle as you slowly start to tear at the material of your tunic, ripping the bottom hem until there's one long strip. biting down on your lip, you apply pressure to the points in your hand that you're sure are broken, knowing the better wrapped it is, the better it will be for you.

the hardest thing you can find on the floor near you to bite down on is shoved between your teeth as you swiftly start to push your fingers back, aligning knuckles that'd been sprouting from your hand like gnarled tree branches.

you groan out anyways - muffled, yes, but only by the long, cool, durable object between your teeth as your head falls against the wall in pain.

fuck.

as you assess your wounds in the dark, trying futilely to wipe the blind fog from your eyes, the thoughts swirl around your mind.

doubt creeps into your head from the cracks in your resolve; because you're not a fool. there's no true way that you could warble your bottom lip a bit, blindly insisting that you were innocent, and the Mandalorian would just fold when faced with an entire ship of pirates who were willing to pay him his entire weight in credits for you. there's no way you were that good.

so what was it that'd snapped in that emotionless helmet of his that prompted the escape attempt?

the money? the Maracavanya clan is not nearly as trustworthy as whoever casted a puck to the bounty guild for you; he has to feed himself and the child, maybe he really is strapped for cash. sure, the beskar goes for a very pretty pence or two nearly anywhere in the galaxy, but you're also fairly sure there's something very sacrilegious about a Mandalorian selling his own armor.

so you're the means to an end - not the first time, and probably not the last, given that you somehow escape the Mandalorian's grasp alive.

there's no way, as a rational person, that you can realistically imagine beating the Mandalorian in combat in your current state. he'd throw you down to the sand within seconds; you can try to outsmart him, considering you've been evading him for weeks up until this point, but it will be much more difficult to do so in the middle of the desert plains with such injuries.

you're fucked.

and you realize, as you dap away at the wound on your head with a strip of cloth, that if it's the child's mouth you're indirectly feeding by being turned in, then that's an externality you aren't terribly furious about... but the Hunter, on the other hand...

you're feeling less dizzy as you finish doctoring yourself in the dark of your blindness, but the numbing agent is surely wearing off; aches and stings and gasps tear from you as the minutes wear on. you're too weak to stand. water and food would go miles for you right now- maker, if you could just-

you shift accidentally and a searing pain rips a tearing yelp from your raw throat. the object you'd shoved between your teeth falls with a cland onto the durasteel floors.

your hand flies to stabilize yourself on the object you'd let fall - a vibroblade, the hilt wrapped in a sharply oiled leather and blade serrated; oh.

at least you'd had the wherewithal to stick the hilt side of the blade between your teeth. thanking your lucky stars, you quickly move to sheath the blade in the waistband of your pants. you'd felt less than whole ever since the Mandalorian had taken your blades; you'd only ever carried a small blaster.

you wonder where he'd discarded them absently - clearly, he was not one to waste a weapon, had he taken yours and added them to his arsenal? a trophy, for one more notch on his ammo-belt? bitterness floods your mouth as your lips shape into a scowl - in a world full of blaster pistols and rifles, you'd preferred a more agile melee skillset when training. it wasn't well equipped for the rolling and harsh isolation of the sandy wilderness; arid and desolate just as the people you've met here. it was much more suited for where you grew up, and maybe you were too.

nonetheless, this vibroblade feels like coming home and your heart cools as you feel the cold of the blade against your spine.

"don't."

you jump out of your skin in shock, hand instinctively flipping the blade until it's concealed up your forearm, the hilt upside down against your palm.

you resist a growl of irritation at his slinkiness; when did the Mandalorian show up? you crane your neck upwards towards where you'd heard the word, your jaw tightening. "do you have any other words in your vocabulary?" you snap. you feel as though you've said this before.

"give me the blade."

he's not asking- he seems like the kind of man who's never had to ask for anything in his life. you roll your eyes out of habit, shaking your head.

what are you going to do, anyways? swipe blindly towards a man covered head to toe in impenetrable metal? you have a decent grasp on up and down purely based on gravitational pull. in a moment, you consider spitting, like you were taught to do in the rumbling avalanches of the cold season back home to orient yourself, just to spite him - you bite your tongue in fear of losing a hand lest your spit graces the Mandalorian's sacred armor.

a moment of panic sends you into a desperate lurch to plead with the Mandalorian. "I don't have a weapon," you insist, "if I could just-"

roughly, his gloved hand pries the blade from your grasp with a harsh tug. "what makes you assume you deserve a weapon? you're my prisoner. just because I didn't freeze you doesn't mean any different."

his words are final; besides, you're reeling through pain on most surfaces of your body and many spots internally; there was no chance for you to put up a fight, so you drop it.

for a moment you expect him to whirl around and disappear from your faint field of vision - but there's a faint motion; a shine above your eyeline and then too soon, a click.

kriff.

you don't have to see to know the click of a safety when you hear one.

"I'll only ask one more time." the Mandalorian's slow, cold voice crackles through the static of his modulator. "who else is after you?"

you can tell this is not turning out to be the bounty capture he'd anticipated - you feel half triumphant but half regretful.

upon first instinct, your mouth creaks open to spew some half-planned lie, but knowing better, you just grit out, "why were you after me?"

he's a statue of a shadow in your faint sight - body large enough to cover most of the cot's lights as he towers over you, staring down the barrel. "what else aren't you telling me?" he asks, voice crackling with danger and frustration.

defiantly - as if you aren't incapacitated in his broken ship, barely able to breathe without yelping in pain - you sneer back at him. "why do you care?"

"I'm trying to make sure I don't get shot out of orbit again." he snaps, hips moving as he shifts, blaster still pointed at your forehead. "there are far worse people in the galaxy that could have gotten to you."

who is he to tell you that? he tried to freeze you in carbonite. you can't help as your brows furrow in skepticism, "well, forgive me if I don't take your word for it." your voice drips in sarcasm.

he shifts, starting to rustle with some blaster pistol on the side table, finally moving his weapon away from you. "you should've told me about the others. I could've prepared better."

a bitter, ironic laugh tumbles from your raw throat, "oh, and what? you would've graciously shared your bounty with me?" you mock, rolling your eyes. his grandiose attitude is grating deep into your nerves.

the Mandalorian's voice is firm. "I protect my assets. it ensures you're alive to give me what I need."

your veins light as you hiss, furious: "I'm not some object you can just take!" you snap. you're aching, furious.

you're sick of people in this galaxy stepping their boots over your spine and trading you around.

"if you're so sure you're not, why do I have this?" he retorts, sarcasm slipping through his mask.

he tosses a small object just to your side onto the cot and the mere shape of it makes your mouth sour. you don't need to see it to know what it is.

your puck.

you exhale harshly, feeling angry, cold, in pain, and miserably alone in the universe. once again proved wrong in your short string of optimism of the good in people, you deflate.

"I'm not someone you can deceive. I took this job because it's my Creed, not for personal gain." he adds after your silence.

the tension in the room is palpable - you feel as though you could pass out in any moment, and Maracavanya, the Mandalorian, your old partner... a cell, guards with vibro-clubs, galactic court - all of it beats down on you, striking freezing fear into your heart.

it is perhaps through this fleeting weakness that you allow yourself a small whisper to him, "you don't understand what's at stake for me."

"you're right." he says.

he walks away silently, but you can tell he's gone. the words he doesn't say linger still, cold and lonely and harsh in his wake. you close your eyes, knowing only rest could help you heal now - but the unspoken words of the cold man haunt you waking and asleep.

you're right, I don't understand - and I don't care.

he arrives just as quietly as he did the first time.

your sight is coming in slowly - it's been hours, likely, of you lying still in the rock-hard cot, staring at the nothingness, willing the sparse bacta spray and ointments you'd kept saved on your person to kick in and relieve you.

he says your name.

it startles you.

you don't dare respond, not nearly bothering to rise and welcome your captor into your (his, your mind reminds you) quarters. he comes in anyways, walking with a stiff, uncomfortable swoop.

"we have a follower." he states, leaving you to pull up your brows, sitting slowly. your shock must be evident on your face. a sleeve falls over your shoulder as you sniff, "we?" you mock.

he doesn't take the bait, as always; turning on his heels, the man stalks out of the cot, down towards where rusty, hot wind blows sand over the dilapidated entrance to his ship. he must've just returned.

the entrance to the ship had taken just as bad a beating as you; more than once in your miserable moments of recovery you'd wished quite bitterly that the Mandalorian had considered upgrading his ship with the same precious metal shell he wrapped his nearly-unscathed self in.

you have to scramble to follow him, squinting as if it will help your impaired vision. a dark wall of metal moves just out of your field of vision, and you chase it. "where have you been?" you ask then, not nearly as concerned by his first sentence as you are with his sudden arrival.

when you'd woken, you'd crept out of the small cot, feeling with your hands on the walls to keep you upright and trying to avoid your hips from encountering a spare corner. it was then, with feelings of both relief and anxiety, that you determined he wasn't anywhere on the ship, and neither was the Child.

"in town." he sounds impatient, urgent. "w-"

you're shocked. "-you left me alone?" you ask, incredulous as your brows raise. the shine of his beskar can just barely be made out through your blindness. you nearly laugh - at his stupidity, or of the irony that you had your chance to escape and slept through it.

"the Crest locks from the inside." he retorts. your brows furrow, "what?"

"when I tell it to, it locks it from the inside." it's clipped, his voiced laced with irritation and a hint of condescension. your blood boils, but he has no time for your mocking tone.

"listen." he utters, voice closer than you expect - instinctively, you jerk back, widening the space between Mando's helmet and your face. "I was in town buying parts. a man followed me back here - about a click away. saw him in the cantina a while ago, and again at the market the other day. he's been following me, so I led him here. you are to stay on the ship."

it's the most words you've ever heard from him - if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was doing this to protect you. bitter fear curls into you as your brows furrow under your scarf, twinging in a bit of pain from your healing injuries. he's not protecting you - he's protecting his assets. making sure he's the one to win the prize of your capture.

and he doesn't seem like the kind of person who keeps as many friends as he does enemies.

it's like clockwork - a slamming noise shuts off whatever retort was building on your lips.

Mando whirls around, whipping his blaster out as he stalks towards the entrance to the broken ship. as quiet as possible, you slide down the rungs behind him, blatantly ignoring his orders; just then, a voice calls out.

"Mandalorian?" a moment of hesitation in the hunter's shoulders. then, chillingly, you gasp as the voice calls out a second name.

yours.

from what your weak eyes can make out, the man standing outside the wreckage of the Razor Crest is a Rodian - his emerald skin contrasting sharply with the desert. you stare in shock from behind the Mandalorian's frame, hoping you're far enough away that the large, multifaceted eyes of the man can't detect you.

he wears earth-toned robes that blend with the desert surroundings, a testament to his familiarity with the unforgiving terrain; peculiarly, his attire is practical, with layers of fabric offering protection from the twin suns' scorching rays and the harsh winds that sweep across the dunes, but upon his waist, a belt secures a small satchel - and, more bizarrely - and an emblem for the city of Mos Espa.

his movements are deliberate and measured - posture unwavering despite the blaster pointed towards him. a few feet down the ramp from you, the Mandalorian stands vigilant, his beskar armor glistening under the twin suns and reflecting into the sensitive layers of your eyes.

"who are you?" he asks, voice low and chilling.

the desert winds howl, carrying whispers of the unforgiving sands across the barren dunes of Tatooine and your weak skin tingles against the particles. finally, the man speaks.

"I come on behalf of my master. he requires your presence at his palace."

palace? your bones chill; what palace in this miserable rock would have business with the Mandalorian? his helmeted gaze bores into the messenger, giving you a split moment to take a deep exhale.

"who is your master that he can't come find me himself?" Mando's voice is gravelly, edged with caution, though he lowers his gun with a hesitant recognition in his voice.

the messenger's eyes flicker, betraying a trace of unease. "not just you. he requests both of you."

your stomach flips. oh, Maker.

before you can stop yourself, you take a staggering few steps until you're next to the Mandalorian, who gives you a cold stare.

with your eyes narrowed against the faint sights in front of you, the gears of your mind whir. "and if we refuse to go?" you ask, voice scratchy. fear pounds in your chest like a wild beast needing escape.

the man folds his hands diplomatically. "the Daimyo has requested your presence at his palace, both of you. he does not extend such invitations lightly - he has his reasons, and you would do well to hear them from his own lips."

oh. oh, kriff. recognition floods through you - a combination of relief and utter fear.

your brows lift, "the Diamyo?"

an old friend, your mind whispers, sardonic and teasing.

a tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant cries of native creatures and a cooing at the Mandalorian's side. a breath of hope is breathed into your chest at the realization that the Diamyo's palace could be just what you need to escape this metal shadow; a shift in the breeze sends your hair around your face and you're soon filled to the brim with anticipation - you need to do this. no matter the danger it entails, what tricks may lie within the halls of the palace...

it's your only hope.

out of pure accident, your eyes land on Mando in what is a fleeting glance, a silent conversation that neither of you intended. it's as if both of you know that this meeting could change the course of both of your journeys, somehow - a threatening veil soon placates your mind, knowing the Mandalorian has surely already considered your plans for escape.

with a sigh heavier than the beskar he shrouds himself with, Mando nods. irritation is laced through his voice. "fine. we will go to the palace."

the messenger nods, his expression revealing nothing but a slight air of relief that notches a bit of anxiety into you. "good. prepare yourselves. the journey is long, and the desert does not forgive hesitation."

and with that, the messenger turns and retreats into the unforgiving expanse along with the dying suns, leaving you to face the remnants of Mando's ship and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

the man is long lost to the fading horizon of the desert when slowly, the hunter pulls a pair of cuffs from his belt; your stomach drops as you hang your head in frustration.

"may I at least use the 'fresher, first?" you snark, sending the cold statue a false smile. you haven't bathed in days - your hair needs a cleanse desperately and you're sure there's more than enough blood, dirt, and grease caked into your skin.

his grunt is angry as he slams shut the ramp, sealing you into complete blindness in the lack of bright lights. despite his anger, the Mandalorian pulls your incapacitated self into the fresher and slams the door shut.

as you shower and relish the last moments of what little, bizarre freedom you had since being captured, you wonder if he's still right outside, waiting for you to step out.

he is.

it's with a pit of misery at the bottom of your stomach that you sit in the corner of the cargo bay with your hands bound together and watch him clean and prepare every single weapon he can fit on his person.

whatever reason the Mandalorian has to listen to the request of the Diamyo, he doesn't tell you. he doesn't do much except run his gloved fingers slowly over the vibroblade you'd tried to steal - the glint of your harsh teeth marks barely detectable to your impaired vision. he sheathes the blade on his hip, to your surprise. a daunting reminder of his power over you.

and as much as you try, you can't ignore the feeling that the fate of your soul is about to rest in the hands of Boba Fett and the mysteries that await you within the walls of his palace.

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taglist (message to join). @silkiers @leithatnight @totallynotastanacc @afandomidiot @bbyanarchist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @notsosecretspy @djarins-cyare @satireclub @famefoxx @sunnywithachanceofjavi

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snaurus · 4 months

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UPDATE: The Middle (12/19)

Somewhat like before, chapters will be posted every Friday, until reaching chapter…14! Yes, for those following along, I’ve managed to scrape together another 5 chapters. I originally wanted to stop prior to chapter 10 because it would have left the story on a major cliffhanger, which I thought was rather cruel. But since I’m past that, I will be continuing until I reach the latest completed chapter and go on a temporary hiatus to finish the rest, or until the story is completed if I manage to get that far during these upcoming weeks.

In this twelfth chapter, Luke finally wakes up.

[AO3: Part 12]