Today, Dr. Hani Al-Haitham, Head Of The Shifa Hospital's Emergency Department, Was Murdered, Along With

𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; din djarin

Pairing; Din Djarin x gn!Reader

outline —; Peaceful times with Din Djarin were rare. You relish it.

word count —; 1.1k

WARNINGS —; none.

tags / themes —; reader and din are married, grogu (sweetly) interrupting a moment.

A/N —; *comes back with a massive stars wars obsession* hey, i write for them now. it's been a stressful couple months and i wanted to get something out for my birthday. this isn't beta-read, i just wanted to write. please be kind, thanks.

This galaxy raised warriors, heroes, and peace-keepers. Those who fought in the name of their planet, for the safety of the future, and the love they carry for their family. Those who were victims of war survived… or trained to survive, fight, and endure. 

This galaxy isn’t raised for writers, painters, and performers. Those who coped in whomever’s name, for the sanity of themselves, and possibly for the love they carried for their crafts. Of course, artists don’t only do it for themselves. They create in order to escape; and luckily enough, they don’t press themselves into the cruel hands of the galaxy. Because it isn’t built for them. 

For you, the galaxy seemed to test the waters. Warriors and Artists? Maybe those two weren’t so different, after all. Oh, how history would have written it; when the stars collide, an artist with no place in this galaxy meets a warrior who can’t find a home. Those three long years, what an adventure it has been. 

Din Djarin is a victim of war. Like yourself. There truly is a place for people like you. But whilst Din grew up with the Way, you grew up tracing the sky, seeing shapes in every landscape, and memorising the curve of someone’s face. Often asking yourself questions like; Where does the shadow fall? In which direction does the light come from? If you were simplified, which shapes best describe you? 

Din Djarin is a Mandalorian. Not like yourself. A Mandalorian. A warrior. He trained and connived his way till he stood in this solid home. He grew up hidden, so he stayed that way for a while in his life; often a mystery to the Guild. 

“Din Djarin, do not move.” You warned, tilting your head as the heat of Nevarro’s sun hit your face. The chair, in which you sat, rocked back slightly at your movements. With arms outstretched, thumb against the pencil, you held it feebly upwards, trying to calculate the proportions of the Mandalorian’s body. 

If you could see his face out in the open right now, you would’ve caught on with the fact that your husband — your riduur — was smirking. And decided to tilt his head in the opposite direction for the fun of it. You clicked your tongue in annoyance but a smile adorned your face. “I’ve been in this position for fifteen minutes, ner runi.” Din sighed softly, tapping his ungloved fingers against his forearm. 

“Fifteen minutes more.” You looked at him over the rim of your notebook, sketching away. A light fire went on above your head, face lighting up as the same smile adorned your features. “I’ll entertain you, what’s our son doing?” You asked, raising your notebook down to tilt your head at him again. 

Din chuckled at your demeanour or was it your question? You couldn’t tell, though he answered anyway. “Eating frogs.” 

“Again?” You turned to look at the side to see your son doing so; eating frogs. Entirely, it was your fault for looking away. At the time your eyes left your riduur, Din got up, breaking your focus. “Din!” You laughed as you looked back at him.

Your Mandalorian called your name with the same energy. His next words were spoken in a gentle manner, enough to capture your attention. “I’m tired,” He merely said, extending his hand to you. “Let’s be tired together.” 

You let a relieved breath. Has it always been there? You weren’t sure, though, at this moment, you let it go. You released it when settling your supplies down the chair in which you sat. You released it when you found yourself melting into Din’s hands. 

With the armour off, the world is all but noisy. The only sound prominent are frogs croaking and the gentle breeze of Nevarro’s ambience. He pulled you into his chest and laid his back against the frame of the metal door. 

Music. You could hear music, with your cheeks pressed against the warmth of his chest, and with his arms wrapped around you (and yours around Din’s waist). The world stopped, for a few moments it stopped, and you breathed. Inhale and exhale. The exhaustion left your body through that breath, and you could feel that Din breathed too. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. You could hear his gentle heart, if you listen close enough, you could practically hear his soul. What would it sound like? 

Move. Your body screamed to move, but a part of you wanted to stay like this forever. Though, the feeling caved into you, forcing your head to look at your husband’s visor. Your chin rested on his chest as you asked warily. “Can I kiss you?” 

Modulate. The Mandolorian’s helmet modulated his voice, if he answered in a chuckle, the other might receive it the wrong way. He didn’t want to move. The embrace held a significant peace, one that physically pained him when he moved a muscle. But Din didn’t speak with his brain at the moment, so he removed his helmet, and the beskar fell onto the floor beside them. 

They were in the middle of nowhere, what would you say? — All is well. — That sentence proved its point when Din held your cheeks beneath his hands, and his lips were on yours. He could feel you kiss back, he could feel your cheeks against his, he could feel the lazy smile that tugged your lips. Truly, Din wanted to open his eyes, to get a better look of you without his visor, yet somehow, he couldn’t. 

Din is tired. So tired. His shoulder gave in and melted between your arms; he didn’t know how it got there; your elbows above his shoulder, as your fingers explored his hair. But Din didn’t care, he just melted into your kiss, laughing, nearly crying over the unexpected bliss and peacefulness the day had to offer. 

His desires of staying like this with you continued to grow within each second— 

“Patu!” And then, the moment was sweetly broken. 

Your lips disconnected with a sound, pulling away the moment the sound was in ear-shot. Din’s eyes landed first on the green baby, doe eyed, ears high, and head tilted innocently. 

You saw him slurp a frog. “Grogu,” A waning smile reached your son’s lips when his name was mentioned, without warning, he jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you caught him. “That’s not nice of you. What if the frogs had parents?” You teased. 

Din chuckled beside you, kissing your temple lightly, before opening the door. “Let’s head inside.” He said while bending to get his fallen helmet. The gesture, so simple, caught you off guard. A soft, green hand held the base of your cheek and Grogu joyfully yelled with ‘‘Iek!’

Stepping inside, you looked around, almost nostalgically. This is your home. Reminded by Grogu and Din’s presence, a smile painted your lips. They are your home. “I’ll kiss you once more when he’s asleep.” He muttered before taking Grogu from your grip. 

Maybe there is a place for artists in this galaxy.

TRANSLATION(S);

riduur; spouse, husband, wife ner runi; my soul (*ner; my) (*runi; soul)

♡ PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.

Kaveh Akbar, from Calling A Wolf A Wolf: Poems; “Heritage”

Palestinians have generational trauma since the Nakba. And now it seems the trauma will continue for decades and decades to come.

The body keeps the score of what the world let happen to the Palestinians. You don't even need to see their faces to feel their nerves.

Humanity has failed a live genocide on our screens.

This is Lama, a 9 year old from Gaza who's dream is to become a journalist. She wants to hit 100k on Instagram

Help her hit that goal, make her feel loved. Don't only talk about Palestinian childrens dreams when they're dead

@carpecaelo how dare you hide this in the tag

Sorry, but having Zuko actually fight back against Ozai during their Agni Kai is just wrong. He was a child, only 13 at the time, afraid to fight his own father and was mutilated as punishment, because Ozai saw Zuko's begging and unwillingness to fight as unforgiveable weakness.

The Angi Kai isn't meant to be a showcase of Zuko's fighting potential (that's what the Zhao fight is for), but to show the utter cruelty of Ozai.

this man will be the death of me.

luke figuring out reader's father is obi-wan. like, it would be so awkward talking to obi-wan's force ghost now, "how am i suppose to tell him you're my partner?" 😭😭

general kenobi | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x kenobi!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where luke finds out who y/n's father is

a/n: how my mind works: if obi-wan is y/n's father, then satine has to be her mother lmao (it's not mentioned!) there is just no other way for me

warnings: none

universe: star wars

"W-What did you just say?", Luke stutters, halting in his steps, his eyes growing wide while he looks at you as if you just turned into a rancor right before his eyes. Since he stopped you in the middle of your rant with this kind of expression on his face, you frown, not quite sure what he wants you to repeat since you just kept talking and talking.

"Uhm, I just said that we are going to carry out this mission without any problems..?", you say, but it sounds more like a question since you are feeling really unsure as his facial expression does not change. Judging by his big eyes and open mouth, this was apparently not the answer he was hoping for and even though you are confused, you can't help but find him especially cute right now.

Usually, Luke has a strict plan, always following every order, but right now it seems like there is no logical explanation for whatever is going on in his mind and you genuinely can't wait to know what caused this sudden change in his demeanour.

"N-No, no. I mean about your.. your father?", Luke tries again, but this time he actually seems like his mind has stopped spinning and he came back to the here and now, looking at you like you are the one acting weirdly. Which you definitely aren't, but you can't suppress a small giggle as he appears to hang on your every word in this moment. Now that he mentioned your father, you at least know what caught him off guard and you can hopefully help him.

"Oh, about that. Well, I basically only said that I will guide you the same way my father used to guide yours in the Clone Wars", you shrug nonchalantly, still not getting why this simple fact got him all messed up.

"And your father is...?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?", you finish his sentence, giving him the answer he has been waiting for. Suddenly, Luke's eyes grow even bigger - if that is even humanly possible - and now you are not sure if you may have actually turned into a rancor right in front of him. But no, you are still very much human and Luke is still very much acting weird.

"Luke? Are you alright? Do I need to call a medic?", you ask, actually concerned now that he hasn't answered you for at least two minutes. He is just standing in front of you, frowning as he seems to be connecting things in his head. The more you look at him, the more it dawns on you what your words might have to do with all of this.

"Wait, you didn't know?", you question, a more or less humourless chuckle leaving your lips as you can't believe that he actually did not know this very important fact about you. About you and who your father is.

"You only told me about your mother, really. And you never dropped any names! I knew your father was a Jedi but not that he was the Obi-Wan Kenobi!", Luke whisper-yells at you now, finally regaining his voice, looking like his whole view of the galaxy was shattered with this one single statement.

The way he runs his hand through his hair, ruffling through it, and how he bites down on his lower lip, finally breaks you and you erupt into a fit of laughter. He looks so cute, all flabbergasted and confused, that you just can't help yourself but to laugh at the weirdness of this situation. You would really like to say that you did talk about your very prominent father, but right now, you can't think of one moment where you actually dropped his name. And this makes you laugh even more and, slowly but surely, Luke starts to laugh too.

"May I introduce myself?", you manage to bring out after your laughter died down, hands on your hips as you try to catch your breath, feeling exhausted by all the laughing. "I'm Y/N Kenobi. At your service, General Skywalker."

Holding out your hand, you wait for him to place a gentle kiss on the back of it as part of your introduction, but Luke only shakes his head in amusement, still too caught up in his thoughts.

"You can't be serious, Y/N!", he almost reproaches you, running his hands over his face while sighing. Then, he takes a step closer, grabbing your hand and placing it against his chest as he leans in.

"How am I supposed to tell him that you are my partner? That we are a thing?", Luke whispers, but he is doing it so quietly as if he expects your father to listen in on every word, putting strong emphasis on his last words.

"I mean, that is not really my problem, is it?", you tease him, taking his proximity to you as a chance to place a soft kiss on his cheek, which riles him up even more. Caressing his cheek with one hand, you fix his disheveled hair with the other and smile your brightest smile at him while he apparently sees his life passing by.

"You are evil, you know that right?", Luke whines, pouting while you are enjoying this more than you probably should. But deep inside, you got a feeling that your father already knows about the two of you. You certainly did not talk to him about it, however, he has always been good at observing and you feel like this ability got even better since he became one with the Force.

"Just.. don't act like you did right now and you will be fine", you giggle, pinching his cheek before leaving a quick kiss on his lips. You catch his eye, wanting him to say something, anything, but all you see is utter fear. Only when you notice that he is looking at something behind you, you follow his stare and see your father, in all his Force ghost glory, making his way over to the both of you.

"Oh, is that Leia over there? I really need to talk to her about the mission", you lie with a bright smile on your lips and you squeeze Luke's hand to give him strength and support.

Completely frozen, he stands in front of you, but he somehow manages to take a deep breath after a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for what is about to come. The strongest Jedi you know nearly gets defeated by a simple conversation with your father, his master.

"I will leave you two alone then", you say your goodbye, waving to your father who is coming closer as you two talk, and make your way to actually find Leia. Turning around one last time, you give your boyfriend a thumbs up which he only replies to with a small smile.

Luke Skywalker is a great fighter, a Jedi who always finds a way out, who always has a plan, who can face the strongest opponent, but the one person he can't face right now is your father. And when he does, as your boyfriend, it is not as bad as expected.

holding your hand out in front of your face and not recognizing the pattern of your palm, the grooves of your fingers, the callouses of your once work worn hands gone

gone

gone like the home in which you grew and dreamed and hoped for a future outside of only to come running back to ashes that will never reform, just a stain on the ever shifting sands and a bitter taste on your tongue

where is there time to mourn in a place such as this? when one gone shifts to another so fast you cannot tell if the air in your lungs is born of ice or forest? you count the days in gones- friends, allies, family, the very pieces of yourself falling from a metal mouth in the sky and screaming for a twin soul lost

your hand is not yours anymore, you don’t recognize the things it’s done, the ease in which it reaches for a trigger faster than the one you had before could ever signal for peace

you are gone and so is he

redemption burns hot upon your face as the world around you rebuilds and you are frozen, left clamouring for scraps of yet another gone, the arbiter of a legacy written in the stars not chosen

and with one hand weak, you carry the burden, for it is you who will be the light

you who will fight against the gone

the fact that Luther, Allison, Klaus, AND Viktor ALL found their soulmates in different timelines/time periods through their time traveling is just SO juicy and could’ve been such a point of emotional conflict in this last season??? If all the timelines need to be destroyed but that would mean erasing the people they fell in love with?? erasing Sloane and Ray and Dave and Sissy?? Characters who actually were important to the seasons they appeared in, and who were so crucial to the Umbrellas’ character development?? Why not honor them and those incredible relationships in the swan song??

Instead, they did … that.

this pride, i learnt about the Palestinian trans woman Oscar Al-Halabiye, dancer and resistance fighter against the israeli occupation in Southern Lebanon. she named herself Oscar after Lady Oscar from the "The Rose of Versailles", a Japanese manga series written and illustrated by Riyoko Ikeda.

her story is documented in Cinema Fouad(1993). zionists use pink washing to reinforce their genocidal terrorist narrative when queer Palestinians have been fighting against the occupation since the very beginning. you can watch it here with english subtitles. long live the intifada!

YouTube

Cinema Fouad (1993) with English Subs

Documentary by Mohammed Soueid. Republished here for educational purposes. "Cinema Fouad is a documentary portrait of Khaled El Kurdi, a Syr