It’s May 4th, and so I thought I’d share the first bit of the fic I’m working on.
Din Djarin x Luke Skywalker x Cassian Andor, E-rated, ~26k.
Chapter 1: The proposition
One year earlier (~11 ABY)
Luke lands the X-Wing next to the small house on a wide, rocky plain in the southern hemisphere of Nevarro. A silver Naboo Starfighter is glistening in the afternoon sun, sleek and elegant. The engine of the X-Wing powers down and Artoo gives a few encouraging beeps.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up, I am going. Of course I’m going,” Luke mumbles as he takes off his helmet and climbs out of his seat. Over the past weeks, he’s constantly been debating if he should do this, and if this is a good idea at all. He still isn’t sure.
Luke straightens his clothes and takes his satchel. He wants to make a good impression on Djarin. Oh damn it. He wants Djarin to like him, at least enough to hear him out and consider his idea. He doesn’t want this to be another mission he pushes through all by himself, and something tells him that Djarin might be the right person to ask.
It’s an insane plan, but for now it’s all he has.
As he approaches Djarin’s house, Grogu’s excitement becomes palpable in the Force. It’s more vibrant and lively than it was on Ossus – Grogu is happier, now that he’s back with Djarin. With his father.
The front door slides open and Grogu takes a small step outside. At the sight of him, Luke’s heart leaps with fierce, sudden joy and he can’t help but grin – force, he missed him. He missed him so much.
Grogu lets out a happy squeak when he spots Luke and takes two, three jumps, wider than he used to jump back at the temple, and then he is clambering onto Luke’s leg, his small claws digging sharply into Luke’s calves.
Luke grins and touches his little head, his soft ears. Grogu looks up at him with big, shining eyes, and a wave of Grogu’s memories hits Luke: their meditations back in the temple, their walks in the bamboo woods, Luke’s proud smile and his words of praise when Grogu accomplished a task. There’s a touch of Grogu’s sadness and longing in it, even if it’s softened by the calm, steady happiness of being reunited with his father.
Luke swallows. “I’ve missed you, too, Grogu. You’ve got no idea how much I miss having you around, little padawan.”
“Grogu!” That’s Djarin’s voice coming from inside. Luke’s mouth goes dry, and a moment later, Djarin appears at the door, shining armour and helmet and all.
I know what he looks like under that helmet.
Luke prays Djarin isn’t force-sensitive enough to catch up on the hot surge of emotion that runs through him.
“Skywalker,” Djarin says flatly, but in the Force, he’s radiating surprise and wariness.
Luke straightens. “I apologize for showing up without any warning, I–“
“Come inside,” Djarin says, and then more softly, “Grogu. Come here. Let Master Skywalker come inside.”
After having spent weeks at Leia’s and Han’s place on Coruscant, Djarin’s house feels small and spacious at the same time. It isn’t big, but outside open land is stretching in every direction. Inside it has the air of a place furnished by someone who isn’t used to building a home or staying in one place – it’s lived-in, but simple and practical. No more than a handful of things to pick up and leave.
Luke takes a slow breath. Maybe he can persuade Djarin to do exactly that.
There’s a box of toys, but most of the contents are strewn across the floor: a silver metal ball, a few small toy weapons that seem to be miniature versions of Djarin’s own. There are colourful bricks from the same brand that Ben loves, but it’s just a handful where Ben already owns an impressive collection. Among them lies a doll that looks like a smaller and hand-sewn version of Grogu himself, the tips of the ears already going threadbare, and there’s a frog plushie, too. Luke has to suppress a grin. The way it’s all scattered makes him think of objects that were floated in mid-air and then abruptly dropped.
“Let’s clean that up, Grogu,” Djarin says. “Come on. We have a guest.”
From across the room Grogu raises his hand, lifts his toys from the floor and carefully sends them sailing into the box.
“Grogu, you really have improved,” Luke says, impressed.
Djarin straightens a fraction. “I remind him to keep up his training.”
“Good work, Mr Djarin.”
There’s a flicker of something in the Force that is at odds with how flat and bare of emotion Djarin’s voice sounds. When Luke looks at him, all he sees is the silver helmet, frustratingly impassive.
“I have brought something that I think Grogu should have,” Luke says. Grogu’s head flicks around, curious. Luke smiles. “May I show him?”
Djarin watches him for a moment, his hesitation and caution palpable in the Force, but eventually he gives a short nod. Luke kneels down and opens his satchel.
“Grogu. This should be yours.” He takes out a bundle, wrapped in soft fabric. The weight feels so familiar in his hand, humming at the touch of his fingers, but it will hum even stronger for Grogu. “If you still want it.”
Luke places the bundle on the ground in front of Grogu. He hasn’t even pulled his hand away when the fabric flaps open – Grogu is stretching out one hand towards the bundle. Luke grins, there’s the same impatience and curiosity in the Force that Ben radiates when unwrapping his birthday presents.
Grogu’s eyes go wide when he recognises Yoda’s lightsaber, and for a moment Luke is overwhelmed by all his silent questions.
“It wasn’t right to make you choose,” Luke explains. “I was wrong to think you could only have one or the other.”
Grogu blinks at him, then touches the handle of the lightsaber.
Luke lets him take it. “Careful. If you want it, we’ll have to practise before you can use it.”
Finally he looks at Djarin. “I would like to teach Grogu again. His skill is impressive, and he would benefit greatly from training with me.”
Djarin’s disapproval and fierce protectiveness flare up in the Force.
“Grogu is a Mandalorian foundling. He’s part of my clan. I’m teaching him. He has chosen this over being a Jedi,” he says sharply.
Luke’s heart sinks, but he nods. “You’re right. But Grogu made his choice when he had to decide between going back to you or continuing his Jedi training. If he had chosen to become a Jedi, he would never have seen you again. And since he left I… I’ve had some time to think. I don’t think I can agree any longer with separating children from their families for the sake of the Jedi. And I don’t believe being a Jedi has to mean he can’t also be a Mandalorian.”
Djarin tilts his head and watches him. “Is this why you’ve come here?“
Now this is where it counts. Luke’s heart goes faster, and he wishes he didn’t want this so much. He draws a deep breath and tells himself that it’s okay to want something. Even for a Jedi, even for him, it’s okay.
“There’s more to it.” Luke focuses on where he feels Djarin’s gaze behind the visor. “Mr Djarin, I have a proposition for you and your son.”
––
Bold and naked
~26k, E, Din Djarin x Luke Skywalker x Cassian Andor
Din Djarin x Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin x Cassian Andor
Set post-S3 of The Mandalorian, and Cassian Andor lives. I still have to come up with a better summary.
Eternally grateful to @ennisnovember for bearing with me as my beta ♥️
I’ll start posting on AO3 once I’ve finished the fic!
Appreciation April week 1 - first work(s) you posted
Thank you @sixhours and @newpathwrites for the tag! It’s an amazing idea.
The first fic I ever wrote was The Swear Jar Project (BBC Sherlock) and I posted that… almost ten years ago. (Jfc… how has it been almost a decade?). I’m still proud I did this, because with this fic I realised how much I love writing. I haven’t stopped writing ever since, and there are few things that make me happier. (I don’t think I can read this fic again though. Ever.)
Fast forward eight years and fourteen or so fics…
Ere break of day is the first fic I wrote for The Hobbit, and I actually still like that fic!
The taste of summer yet to shine is the first fic I wrote for The Last of Us (HBO). There’s a queer Joel falling in love with a guy who suspiciously looks like Oscar Isaac. (Feel you, Joel.)
Stuck with me now is the first fic I wrote for Star Wars and The Mandalorian. If you enjoyed that, I’m working on another one with Din Djarin and Luke Skywalker. And someone else, because I love threesomes. Triads.
I wouldn’t have been able to write these fics without the support of @ennisnovember who has been beta-reading my stories since 2016 and @andthetardis who has helped me with so much of my writing. You’re the best. Thank you for bearing with me. ♥️
Tagging - if you’re in the mood! - @ennisnovember @andthetardis @shirleycarlton @iamsherlocked-1998 @saltwaterandstars @electricthursday @maggiemayhemnj @kizzyataphelion @hubblegleeflower @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor. If I haven’t tagged you (probably because I forgot, that happens, or because I was worried I’d get on your nerves) but you’d like to join, go ahead! This is such a cool idea and I’d love to hear about your firsts.
Wooohoooo, @deervsheadlights , thanks for the tag! I enjoyed your new chapter of drunken southern stars so much today!
Here’s something from my DinLuke WIP::
Luke watches, cocking an eyebrow, as Din hurries to put on his helmet in front of the airlock hatch. Grogu is gazing at him curiously with big, round eyes.
Din shoots Luke a look and huffs a breath.
“It’s not like Solo is…” Part of my clan, Din wants to say, then gets caught on the fine line he’s been walking since he stopped wearing the helmet, and what comes out instead is, “family.”
Din clicks the helmet into place. He takes a deep breath, readjusting to – the narrow field of vision and the staticky grain of the visor. The familiarity, the safety, the protection. The barrier between him and everyone else.
Luke tilts his head, a kind, amused smile on his face. “In fact, Han is exactly family, Din.”
And I tag @electricthursday @shirleycarlton @iamsherlocked-1998 @sixhours
Wooohoooo, @deervsheadlights , thanks for the tag! I enjoyed your new chapter of drunken southern stars so much today!
Here’s something from my DinLuke WIP::
Luke watches, cocking an eyebrow, as Din hurries to put on his helmet in front of the airlock hatch. Grogu is gazing at him curiously with big, round eyes.
Din shoots Luke a look and huffs a breath.
“It’s not like Solo is…” Part of my clan, Din wants to say, then gets caught on the fine line he’s been walking since he stopped wearing the helmet, and what comes out instead is, “family.”
Din clicks the helmet into place. He takes a deep breath, readjusting to – the narrow field of vision and the staticky grain of the visor. The familiarity, the safety, the protection. The barrier between him and everyone else.
Luke tilts his head, a kind, amused smile on his face. “In fact, Han is exactly family, Din.”
And I tag @electricthursday @shirleycarlton @iamsherlocked-1998 @sixhours
I asked people in Minneapolis what they wanted other people to know about their struggle, and one person replied: tell people about the beauty here too. The most horrific acts of the state capture the headlines—and for good reason—but there’s a specific beauty to what’s happening here.
Margaret Killjoy spent four days and three nights in Minneapolis last week and wrote about it on Substack. So worth reading.
Something I don't think we talk enough about in discussions surrounding AI is the loss of perseverance.
I have a friend who works in education and he told me about how he was working with a small group of HS students to develop a new school sports chant. This was a very daunting task for the group, in large part because many had learning disabilities related to reading and writing, so coming up with a catchy, hard-hitting, probably rhyming, poetry-esque piece of collaborative writing felt like something outside of their skill range. But it wasn't! I knew that, he knew that, and he worked damn hard to convince the kids of that too. Even if the end result was terrible (by someone else's standards), we knew they had it in them to complete the piece and feel super proud of their creation.
Fast-forward a few days and he reports back that yes they have a chant now... but it's 99% AI. It was made by Chat-GPT. Once the kids realized they could just ask the bot to do the hard thing for them - and do it "better" than they (supposedly) ever could - that's the only route they were willing to take. It was either use Chat-GPT or don't do it at all. And I was just so devastated to hear this because Jesus Christ, struggling is important. Of course most 14-18 year olds aren't going to see the merit of that, let alone understand why that process (attempting something new and challenging) is more valuable than the end result (a "good" chant), but as adults we all have a responsibility to coach them through that messy process. Except that's become damn near impossible with an Instantly Do The Thing app in everyone's pocket. Yes, AI is fucking awful because of plagiarism and misinformation and the environmental impact, but it's also keeping people - particularly young people - from developing perseverance. It's not just important that you learn to write your own stuff because of intellectual agency, but because writing is hard and it's crucial that you learn how to persevere through doing hard things.
Write a shitty poem. Write an essay where half the textual 'evidence' doesn't track. Write an awkward as fuck email with an equally embarrassing typo. Every time you do you're not just developing that particular skill, you're also learning that you did something badly and the world didn't end. You can get through things! You can get through challenging things! Not everything in life has to be perfect but you know what? You'll only improve at the challenging stuff if you do a whole lot of it badly first. The ability to say, "I didn't think I could do that but I did it anyway. It's not great, but I did it," is SO IMPORTANT for developing confidence across the board, not just in these specific tasks.
Idk I'm just really worried about kids having to grow up in a world where (for a variety of reasons beyond just AI) they're not given the chance to struggle through new and challenging things like we used to.
I think this is an incredibly important post for a lot of reasons. You have to write a bad book in order to learn how to do something. You have to suck at playing an instrument before you can improve.
Struggling is part of the process, and I've had a lot of people argue with me that it shouldn't be who fail to see the point. When you replace an composer with an AI music generator, an artist with an AI-generated image, or an author with an AI-generated fanfic, you are missing out on the critical, fundamental experiences humans need to learn and grow. You are robbing yourself of essential skills you need as a person.
AI is not like a calculator, or a synthesizer, or a prompt generator. It's not a tool to aid in your process of understanding or creating something. It is replacing your ability to learn things, and that is going to do so much damage if you let it.
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