#princessbatears

1. Jealousy – Din Djarin Word Count: 700 Rating: PG13

● Din Djarin is a quiet, unassuming man with little desire for anything but to protect his little family. Din does not talk much, which means it took you a very long time to learn how to decipher his body language. He tends to keep things bottled up inside himself, so even if he is feeling something strongly, he never shows it to you. At best, you will recognize that his tone is slightly off. After that, it takes a few minutes of cajoling before he speaks.

● That is why it takes months for you to realize that he actually likes you and anticipates your company whenever the two of you can spare the time to hang out together. And for the past month? You have been starting to suspect he has romantic intentions toward you.

● One day, he offers to take you to town to pick up some supplies you need, and you eagerly agree.  You look forward to a bit of fresh air, too. You know he isn’t good with small talk, so you keep it to things you know he likes – his sweet, tiny goblin of a child and blasters.

● The supply run goes by faster than either of you anticipated, which means that you can linger in the market for a bit. There, you find a toolkit that you know one of the mechanics needs. It, however, is way out of the price range that you find acceptable, so you start trying to haggle the price down to something you can afford.

● The shopkeeper does not seem to care that you are Mandalorian. He does not seem to care about the fact that you are Mandalorian. In fact, he seems to be gazing up at you in fascination, a blush on his cheeks and a grin stretching across his lips. Sighing to yourself, you flirt back, directing his attention back to the toolkit. He finally knocks it down to what it’s actually worth and you accept his offer. As you start counting out credits, the man cheekily asks if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink later tonight.

● Before you can answer, you feel Din come up behind you and wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. With the way you are pressed up against him, you can feel tension radiating from every square inch of his body.

● “That won’t be possible,” Din says in the rudest tone you’ve ever heard him use with someone, “She’s having drinks with me.” The shopkeeper blinks and nods rapidly.

● “I wasn’t aware that you were with someone!” he says to you.

● “Can we get that receipt?” Din asks tightly, unaware that your mouth is flapping uselessly behind your visor, “My girl and I have plans.”

● You look up at Din, then at the shopkeeper, then back up at Din, your brain fizzling into a state of utter incomprehension. Once the receipt has been handed over, and you have the toolkit in your bag, Din leads you away, his hand possessively low on your hip.

● When you’re back on the Razor Crest, he tries to make a break for the cockpit, but you’re faster than he is, and you cut him off. You fold your arms under your breast plate and stare up at him.

● “Din,” you say quietly. “What was that about?”

● He stays quiet for a few moments. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he finally admits.

● “Were you jealous?” you ask.

● “Yeah,” he admits grumpily. He tries to retreat, but you stop him with one hand on his wrist.

● “You don’t need to be jealous,” you say softly to him. “I…I’m yours, Din. If you want.”

● Din freezes in place. Then he gently leans in and presses his forehead to yours in a brief keldabe kiss.

● “There’s no need to be jealous,” you say. Then mischievously, “Though, I wouldn’t mind you wrapping your arm around me like that again.”

● He stammers something out in response, ducking his head in mortification. It’s true – you do like the idea of him claiming you publicly.

2. Jealousy – Armorer Word Count: 752 Rating: PG13

· Armorer is a woman who has spent many years looking after others before herself. She has lost many loved ones over the years, so she is quite possessive of those who still remain. When she meets you, and finds that she wants you as her own, she makes it known that You. Are. Taken. The Tribe hunters keep a respectful distance from you, knowing that their Alor has claimed you as her own.

· Initially, you are quite shy, but as soon as you get settled into the Tribe, your personality begins to shine. The hunters often call you the runt of the strill litter – you’re the smallest one there, yet you’re the most aggressive.

· (Before leaving you here, Din had taken you aside to give you some advice. “If you want something done, you must not hesitate to assert yourself. Hunters are used to getting their way with outsiders. You make the mistake of giving them an inch, they’ll try to take the entire fucking parsec. Put your foot down and let them know that you are not rolling over for them. I know your society tells you to be nice, but here, be the assertive warrior I know you have locked up in here.” He very gently poked one index finger into your sternum. It was an awkward pep talk, but…it worked.)

· The first attempt to overstep you had happened in the Foundry. Some idiot hunter just shoved his cloak into your arms and told you to go repair it. You had faltered for a half second before getting up and sweetly saying to him, “Of course, I’ll take care of it right now. It won’t take long to fix the problem.”

· Armorer watched you apprehensively as you marched to the Forge. When she realized what you were about to do, she almost stopped you, but she didn’t. (Secretly, she wanted to watch the ensuing meltdown.) You wadded up the smelly, ratty cloak and pitched it straight into the bright blue flames. As the cloak burned away into dust, the hunter spluttered indignantly before making a threat toward your continued existence.

· She stepped in then, warding him off with one hand, “You said you wanted the problem fixed. There is no longer a hole in your cloak.” He had stomped off like a spoilt child then, muttering something foul under his breath about your ancestors. Then she turned to you, “In the future, do not toss a hunter’s property into my Forge. It is not a waste receptacle.” (You turned bright red and stammered out the sweetest, sincerest apology she’d heard in her life. From then on, you insisted on helping clean to make up for what essentially amounted to sacrilege.)

· That ballsy show of a backbone had certainly endeared you to her. You wanted nothing more than to help the Tribe succeed, to learn more about the Mandalorian way. She liked seeing the way your eyes lit up on seeing the children playing (and often, you’d go join them). When you shyly brought her a bottle of cold water at the end of a long, hot day spent at the Forge, Armorer realized that she had fallen hard.

· Other people would have taken time to think about it. She, however, knew how unpredictable life as Mandalorian could be. So she started courting you on the spot, making her interest in you known to you and to the Tribe. No one overstepped…until that one idiotic hunter tried to woo you. She had been jealous for seconds before realizing how stupid it was to be jealous.

· As he tried and tried to convince you to join him for ‘private sparring lessons’, you refused, just smiling, waiting for Armorer to come say something. Armorer finally grew fed up and came to you, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you tight against her breast plate, relishing in the tiny sigh you let out.

· That was all it took for him to realize the mistake he was making. When Armorer let her fingers drift down to her side, he backed off. (If it’s one thing Mandalorians learn early in life, it’s that the armorer of their tribe is the last person they want to cross.)

· You turn to Armorer, burying your face into the fuzzy capelet she wears, inhaling the scent of smoke and fire. Her hand drops to your ass and squeezes, making it clear without a doubt that you are most certainly taken. Then she gently presses her forehead against yours.

3a. Jealousy – Paz Vizsla Word Count: 1210 Rating: PG-13

● As an older man in his forties, Paz Vizsla has had many years to learn how to temper that passionate part of himself. When he grows angry or jealous, Paz instinctively forces himself to stop and think, which is a lesson that many hunters learn far too late in life. Anger blinds people, which leads to mistakes, and can cause devastation. Anger can drive people to do or say things they normally never would. The last thing Paz ever wants to do is to hurt someone he loves.

● He is a walking bucket of contradictions: he is passionate, emotional, and prone to violence; he is logical, rational, and will never hurt the person he loves.

● As Alor’ad when it comes to the military aspet of their Tribe, he is personally responsible for ensuring that everyone is well-trained in a variety of combat techniques, including hand-to-hand, shooting, aerial maneuvering, and survival skills. This is a job he takes Seriously. When he feels someone needs improvement, he will dedicate himself to improving their skill, even if that other person feels like they are being smothered to death by him. (No one will ever complain about this, though, because Paz’s tutelage has saved more than one hunter from a mistake of their own making.)

● One day, while hosting a group of homeward-bound hunters, he sees you talking to one of them. Paz can’t remember his name. All he knows is that the kid is young and cocky, and halfway decent with his rifle. To his dismay, you and the kid get on like a house on fire, as if the two of you have known each other for your entire lives.

● For the first time in many years, Paz finds himself burning with jealousy, and even though he tries his best to hide it, everyone picks up on his body language, his terse speech, and the murderous stares he throws in the kid’s direction.

● Paz would never dream of asking you to end a friendship to make himself feel better. He also knows he needs to make his feelings known to you, but you’re having so much fun he doesn’t want to keep you from shooting with a friend. Or sparring with a friend. Or reading with a friend. Or… Paz shakes the thoughts from his head.

● There is nothing sexual there, he tells himself firmly. (That doesn’t stop him from watching the kid from afar, waiting for him to fuck up just once so he can put him in his place.)

● It takes nearly a week, but the kid finally steps over the imaginary line Paz had put up as his own personal boundary. The kid wraps his arm around your neck, pulls you down, and gives you a good whack on the noggin. Paz sees red at the assault on your person. Rather than blow up at him, you elbow him in the side and laugh at him.

● Paz can handle the banter, the playfulness, and the sparring. But physically putting his hands on you? That is where Paz draws the line, especially since you’ve stabbed other hunters for doing the exact same kriffing thing in the past. He gets up and approaches, keeping his posture calm and relaxed to avoid alerting the little shit of his intentions.

● “Hey, Paz!” you say to him. “Come sit with us!” He wants desperately to sit with you, to feel your warmth against his own, but he has other business to take care of first. He declines with a gentle shake of the head and a brush of his fingers against your shoulder.

● “I actually came over to talk to you,” Paz says, turning to the young man. “Let’s talk about this morning.” The kid cocks his head, relaying his confusion.

● “This morning?” he asks, and Paz nods in response. “This morning,” Paz says. “Let’s go.” He puts one hand on the kid’s shoulder and squeezes just hard enough to let him know that he means business.

● Out in the hallway, out of your sight, Paz turns to the kid and stares him down. Then he leans in, making the kid back into the wall in surprise. Paz takes a deep, dark pleasure in watching his rival back down without a fight.

● “Let me make one thing clear to you,” Paz growls. “She’s mine. You put your hands on her again and I will break every single bone in your body.”

● Paz expects the kid to respond with “Yes, sir, I understand” or maybe “Oh, shoot, I didn’t know you two were together” or something like that. What he doesn’t expect is to hear the kid laugh. Stunned, incandescent rage fills him as the kid continues to laugh, unintelligible gibberish escaping his modulator as he tries to speak.

● “What the hell are you two doing out here?” you ask from the doorway.

● “Nothing, cyare,” Paz says. “Just having a talk.”

● “This – this di’kut,” the kid gasps out, “He-he thinks I’m hi-hitting on you!”

● “What?” you ask incredulously. “Paz, what the hell?”

● He almost snarls at the kid as he turns back. While he laughs, the kid shrinks back against the wall, a shriek of laughter escaping him.

● “Paz!” you say, putting your hand on his bracer. “Paz, you idiot, he’s my brother!”

● Like a popped balloon, the rage leaves him, and crippling mortification seeps in to fill the void. It all makes sense now. Paz bemoans his temper. He should have known from the kriffing start. He and Din treat each other the exact same way – the playful wrestling, the banter, and the constant pestering. He takes a half-step back and exhales.

● “Sorry,” he says grumpily. “I didn’t know you were siblings.”

● You shake your head at him, “Paz, I told you my brother was coming to visit. Were you not paying attention to me?”

● “When did you tell me?” he asks in confusion. You press your bucket against your hands in a clear show of your exasperation. The kid just starts to giggle again.

● “I told you right after our last shooting lesson,” you say to him. Paz thinks back on that moment and feels an uncharacteristic blush crawling up his cheeks. He turns back to the kid and slams his hands over the kid’s audial receptors.

● “They’re off, they’re off!” the kid says, and Paz withdraws his hands.

● “Cyare, as I recall, you were quite undressed at that time,” Paz says. “Surely you cannot expect me to actually be able to focus on anything but those little lace panties?”

● You gasp in mortification at his lewd words. Indignantly, you turn on your heel and march away without another word. Paz turns his head back down at the kid and waves his hands to get his attention.

● “Are they on again?” Paz asks.

● “Yeah,” the kid says.

● “Let me get you a drink to make up for my shitty behavior,” Paz responds.

● “You in the strill house now?” he asks.

● “Yup,” Paz responds. “By the way, you’re good with your rifle. I can give you a few tips, if you’d like.”

● After buying your brother a drink, giving him a proper apology, and some shooting lessons, Paz feels like he’s made up for his behavior. Now, he needs to get back on your good side…

 3b. First Fight with Paz Vizsla Wordcount: 663 Rating: PG13

● Despite what everyone says about hunters, Paz is quite intelligent. He is acutely aware of your emotional state and your needs. It is exceptionally rare that he slips up and upsets you. The two of you have your disagreements, like any other married couple, but it has never gotten to the point where the two of you actually fight. Despite your best efforts, it is inevitable that you and Paz have your first true fight.

● The day starts off like any other – you wake up with Paz’s arm around your waist and his face buried into your hair. After getting ready for the day, the two of you head to your respective workstations. The first disagreement is over something ridiculously stupid. You’re already tense, and Paz accidentally brings you the wrong ration. You thank him – a hint of sarcasm in your voice – and he responds in kind. Normally, you and Paz have no problems communicating, but today has been extremely stressful for the two of you.

● Staggering in through the bedroom door, you immediately trip over Paz’s boots and fall flat on your face. Rather than scold him, you blow up at him. He tells you to watch where you are going, rather than apologize for leaving his shit in the way. From there, it escalates, turning into a fight about everything that each of you has done to wrong the other.

● He shuts down when he’s angry, so he stalks off to go hide in the bedroom, locking the door behind himself to keep you away from him. (Honestly, hearing the door shut behind him hurts worse than the fact that you two are even fighting.)

● For the first time since the start of your marriage, you two go to bed angry at one another. You take the couch while he keeps the bed. (He really is too big to fit on the couch, and even though you want to wring his kriffing neck right now, you don’t want him to aggravate his back injury.)

● Later, you curl up on your side and pull your pillow over your head. You can’t help but to cry – you have never been this angry with him or yourself before. You’re frustrated, sad, and alone. Paz didn’t do anything to deserve your anger or your attitude. You don’t want to fault him for responding in kind – he’s a patient man, but he isn’t going to sit there and take someone’s attitude endlessly.

● You sit up and wipe the tears off your face. As you’re wrapping the blanket around yourself, Paz comes out into the living room. He sits down next to you and wraps his arm around you. You don’t hesitate to bury your face against his shoulder.

● “Cyare,” you say softly, “Why are we fighting?”

● “I don’t know,” he says. “I truly don’t.”

● From there, you apologize for snapping at him, your poor attitude, and the things you had spat at him in anger. He apologizes as well for the same things, pulling you into his lap and holding you close. He exhales and kisses you on the forehead, making you blush lightly.

● “I don’t like fighting with you,” Paz says quietly. You nod in agreement, “We are a team, cyare. No one – nothing – should come between us, especially our anger.”

● Over the next hour, the two of you work things out, figuring out where all the anger had manifested, where those hurtful things came from. Once everything is settled, Paz carries you into the bedroom and tosses you down onto the bed. Then he curls up behind you, resting a heavy arm around you, grunting as he buries his face into your hair.

● “Much better,” he says. “Couldn’t sleep without your hair in my mouth.”

● Quietly, you giggle at his words. The two of you will overcome these differences together, just like any other problem that arises.

10. Sleeping

· Paz Vizla is Huge™️. The man is at least 6 feet 5 inches tall. No one really knows how much he weighs but that man does not skip his spinach-and-protein shakes. So, logically, he needs a bed that is proportional to his height.

· Paz is a very frugal man, but his aching back demands a comfortable place to sleep. His bed is custom made, bought from an expensive furniture dealer on the edge of the Inner Rim. The bedding is also custom made, in a soft cottony material that stays nice and cool during those balmy summer nights, with a lovely thick quilt for winter nights.

· Thus, Paz Vizla owns the biggest bed in the Tribe and he will fucking cut anyone who even tries to touch it. His bed is the one spot where he can take his bucket off, stretch all the way out like a starfish, and just relax. He has subconsciously come to associate his bed with not having to wear his helmet, which is why he is so possessive of it.

· As a Mandalorian, Paz has grown used to sharing everything with his Tribe mates, so his bed is one of the few things that is His and Only His. Paz will not share his bed with just anyone. Before you, Paz only had short-term flings. He had no problems fucking them in a storage closet, or on a table, or in some secluded corner. When he wanted to spend the night with someone, he went back to their room with them, just so he could avoid having someone lingering in his room, touching his bed, invading his most private space.

· When he met you, all that changed. He found that he wanted you in his bed, where he could take his time in undressing you, lavishing attention on every square inch of skin that you were willing to bare to him. He wanted to be able to roll onto you in the middle of the night, tease you with his fingers until you woke up, and then fuck you. You knew immediately that he felt something for you, but it took months before Paz realized that he wanted a long-term relationship. (He’s quite intelligent, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he’s below average.)

· You two had married very quickly after that. He loves coming into his room and seeing his riduur sprawled across the bed. Even when you somehow end up in the exact center of the bed, wrapped in all the blankets, he finds it endearing and sweet. (Is it because he considers you and the bed to be His and Only His? Probably, Paz is a possessive lover and will not hesitate to throw hands if someone tries to hurt you. He knows you can handle yourself, but if someone lays a hand on you? He will rip their arm off and beat them with it.)

· When it comes time for bed, he will quietly take his armor off, piece by piece, and put it away. Then he puts his helmet down on the bedside table. Once he is completely naked, Paz crawls onto the bed with you and starts to unwrap you, one layer at a time, like a tiny present.

· When he starts working on the last layer, you wake up most of the time, and you sleepily roll over toward the wall, giving him enough space to get comfortable. He will steal a flat sheet and give you the rest of the blankets back – he runs hot like a furnace while you run colder than Hoth.

· Once Paz is stretched out on his back, you will immediately jump him for cuddles. And if it’s one thing that Paz Vizla loves, it’s cuddling his riduur before bed.

· The soft warmth of your body, your breath fanning across his skin – he lives for cuddling. Nothing makes him happier than looking down at the top of your head, tucked against his shoulder, your arm thrown over his stomach.

· When Paz sleeps, he sleeps like a log. Wherever he lands, he sleeps, and he will not budge an inch until morning or until an alarm goes off somewhere.

· If he can’t sleep, he’ll play with your fingers and touch you with feather-light touches – enough to relax you and help you sleep, but not enough to turn you on. Paz likes feeling the tension leave your body as you fall asleep against him.

· He’s spent so much of his life defending himself or protecting others that he isn’t sure what it feels like to not be using his hands to destroy. Having you sleep next to him, your body soft and pliant and trusting under his touch, is enough to remind him that he hasn’t lost his humanity.

· Sometimes, you wrap your leg over his thigh, which allows him to reach down at night for a quick grope to feel if you are wearing undergarments. 👀👀👀

Setting down the supplies and your helmet on the small kitchenette counter you went further back into the ship and to the refresher where you were pretty sure he was located.

"Paz?"

You were confronted by an odd sight you could only shake your head at.

Namely your riduur with one foot that appeared to be stuck in the toilet. "Did you seriously get your foot stuck in the toilet?" you ask, flabergast. "Paz, I was only gone an hour."

"I was fixing the vent fan, it wasn't pulling the condensation correctly," Paz said defensively and motioned to the array of tools he had laid out on the tiny sink counter.

You couldn't help but snicker, "So you decided that standing on a smooth metal toilet edge was a good idea hmm?"

"It seemed like it at the time? And I did get the vent fixed."

You leaned against the doorway and crossed your arms, bemusement rolling off you as you tried to not just bust out laughing at him.

"Are you going to help me or not ner cyare?" Paz asked, sounding slightly distressed.

You tapped a finger to your chin, "Well, of course… I'm just debating if Din is going to believe me or if I should take a holo."

His eyes narrowed at you, "You wouldn't."

Pushing off the doorway you went to help your distressed riduur, "No, I wouldn't. But you have to admit this is really funny."

Paz just grumbled in reply while you inspected the issue.

"Here, I think it's just the angle your boot is in. Turn your leg," you pressed against Paz's muscled thigh to indicate the direction he should pivot.

Once you had him in place you had him give a tug and his foot popped out.

"Smart," he mused, the glint in his eyes familiar.

"Nope, not happening."

"But that was kind of hot, you know how I get when you get all clever on me."

"You had your foot in the damn toilet, Vizsla. And no, I'm not joining you in the shower either. Check back in when you're clean," you tossed over your shoulder with a grin.

Translations: Riduur - Spouse Ner cyare - my beloved cyare'ika - darling/sweetheart