Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3
Posting part four of this for a slightly late Star Wars day post. (It's technically still May 4th for me).
I had a lot of fun designing/drawing their drivesuits. I've always been a fan of drawing armor, so this was definitely my comfort zone.
More sneak peeks for this WIP fic under the cut, for funzies. And may the 4th be with you!
Din rolls his shoulders in his drivesuit as he makes his way through the shatterdome. After all these years he thought it might be odd to get back into the suit, but it's like he never left. It's almost uncanny how natural it feels to put on the old polycarbonate armor.
After the confrontation between Marshal Skywalker and Luke, Din isn't sure what to expect as he makes his way to the Crest's conn-pod. It was clear Luke was the best candidate, even ignoring their drift compatibility, he was the only other person who had experience in an actual Jaeger. It made no sense for the Marshal to keep Luke grounded from a strategical standpoint, so it must be personal.
It didn't take a genius to realize that the relationship between the Marshal and his son was strained. Din didn't have the first clue as to why, but despite it, he understood where the Marshal was coming from. Even with everything on the line, he's not sure he could ever willingly put his son's life on the line. Thinking about it, Din is surprised that the Marshal even let Luke pilot for as long as he did. If Grogu grew up wanting to be a pilot, if the war lasted that long, Din isn't sure he'd be able to handle it.
But the way Luke and him fought. His skin was still electric from the way they met strike for strike. Din can't imagine piloting with anyone else after that. He isn't sure he'll even be compatible enough with any of the other candidates. Then what? Will he just go home? Watch from the sidelines as they make a run for the breech? He isn't sure what's worse, being unsuccessful here and watching his slow death on the TV, or being unsuccessful at the breech. Either way he'll die knowing he failed, failed the world, failed his son. He can't let that happen. So he'll just have to succeed. And the only way to do that is with Luke.
Din had just made up his mind when he approached the scaffolding that would lead him to the Crest's conn-pod. He was about to turn around and find the Marshal when a familiar figure walked towards him.
"Luke..?" Din trailed off. Luke was wearing a shiny black drivesuit and a sunny smile.
"Looks like I won that bet after all." Luke jogs over to Din's side, giving him a friendly punch on the arm before making his way to the ladder.
Din stays frozen for a long moment, unsure of what to make of the situation. He just stares as Luke begins to climb the ladder up to the conn-pod, helmet under his arm. Halfway up Luke pauses and turns towards him, meeting his gaze.
"You coming or not, partner?" Luke asks with a smile bordering on mischievous.
Din can't but help but return a small smile before jogging to catch up to Luke.
~~~
Just a cute little moment before reliving ✨trauma✨ in the drift!
Addition to this post hehe
DinLuke week day 1 - Mand'alor & Alo'riduur
Uhhh here we go I guess, my first art post ever on Tumblr and it's DinLuke. I almost never draw fan art but thanks to DinLuke week I've now drawn several pieces for these two. I love them. I couldn't help it even if I wanted to.
On another note, I really liked doing the lighting for this! I also got to draw Luke in Padmé inspired fit which is one of my favorite things. Luke is a fashion icon and he must follow in the footsteps of his amazing mother.
Slight close up to get those details I worked way too hard on. As a note, the pattern on Luke's outer robe was hand drawn because all the pattern brushes I found didn't look quite right. So yeah.
DinLuke week day 4 - meet pre ANH
Something about these AUs hit different for me and I love it. If I ever get the motivation I'm definitely going to write a meet pre ANH au where Din actually sticks around for some of the OT plot. Nothing major because I think he would still not want to get super involved in the rebellion, but he'd do things to help Luke.
In any case, enjoy this little Keldabe kiss. (Luke's hair was actually so fun to draw, even though I struggle with blonde hair a lot.) Close ups under the cut.
Luke with sunspots from living on Tatooine gives me life. I need more of that shit. (idk if they're even visible rn but I swear I put them there.)
From the DinLuke Server prompt of the same word.
Luke reaches the end of his tether, and Ahsoka gets yelled at, as she deserves.
------
Luke feels out of his depth.
Everyone seems to know more than him.
“We didn’t used to do it like that,” Cal says, frowning.
“Oh, Kanan told me it was done this way,” Ezra says, flippant.
“That’s not how the Jedi teach,” Ahsoka says, disapproving.
“I don’t remember anything about that,” Reva says, dismissive.
“I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN APPROVED OF,” Gungi says, uncertain.
“Are you sure you want to do it that way?” Ezra asks, wincing, and Luke has had it.
He likes to think he’s left his rashness behind. He’s matured, he’s fully mastered his emotions. But even his patience can’t last forever.
He whips around to Ezra, shoulders set, face a mask of fury.
“You run this karking Order then!” he snarls. “If you’re all so much wiser than I am! Run it yourselves!”
And he storms off, blood hammering in his ears. He’s surprised he only said that, and not something so much worse, which was exactly what he wanted to. He stomps away from the little compound they’ve made, their temporary temple, and out into the streets of Sundari.
His boots pound the pavement as he tries to get as far away as possible, and Mandalorians quickly get out of his way, staring at him as he passes. He doesn’t care. All he can hear in his head is reproach, remonstration, criticism, dismissal. What do you even think you’re doing? the voices in his head demand, jeering at him. You don’t know anything!
Of course he doesn’t know anything, he thinks bitterly. He’s found himself in one of the little parks, a residential area, and he throws himself beneath a tree that still needs time to grow. No one told him anything. His masters were forging a weapon, not a Jedi. He didn’t even know what a Jedi was until he was nineteen! And they had the gall to call him the last, as if there weren’t people out there, people the same as him, who could have guided him from the start. They didn’t even attempt to remake the Order, and now they come here, judging every wrong step he takes without offering to teach him the dance in the first place.
He refuses to meditate, even though that would be the correct, Jedi thing to do. But he doesn’t want to be a Jedi just then. He doesn’t. He wants to drop everything and just run to the farthest corner of the galaxy where no one has even heard of the Force. Sithspit, even Tatooine would be better than this, right now.
What is he even trying to do, anyway? Maybe the Order would be better off dead and buried. What would the galaxy even gain, if he succeeded?
“May I sit?”
Luke hears the silver bells in the Force, their resonant chimes, and he scowls.
“What do you want?” he demands, not even looking up.
Ahsoka, wisely, chooses not to sit, because Luke would simply stand and then march off again.
“To discuss, perhaps,” she says, mild and supercilious and it grates on Luke’s nerves like metal scraping against metal, the hulls of two ships colliding. He surges to his feet, and her height doesn’t intimidate him – frankly, he’s faced taller, and meaner, and uglier.
“What’s to discuss? How I’m destroying everything? Ruining the legacy of the Jedi?!”
“Rage doesn’t—”
“Shut up, Ahsoka!” he snaps, and she does, her mouth clamping shut like he’s cast a spell on her. “You’re the worst of them all! Always needling, always criticising! You waltz in here whenever you want, proclaiming you’re not even a Jedi, and then proceed to tear everything apart because it’s not to your exacting, aloof standards!”
Luke breathes deeply through his nose, and instantly regrets everything he’s said. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I’m tired,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady, “of everything I do being worthless.”
Ahsoka is quiet. “Luke,” she says, and finally there’s some emotion in her voice after it’s been so distant all the time, “it’s not. You’re… you’re trying to do everything on your own. You’re exhausted, you’re barely at home.”
She reaches out, cautious, like he’s a cornered, wounded animal that might bite, and gently her hand settles on his shoulder. Viciously he contemplates shrugging her off, but that just feels petty. He simply glances at her hand, and then at her.
“We know how much this means to you,” she says. “How much is at stake. You’ve done so much and you’ve done it by yourself.”
He scoffs at her.
She frowns. “It’s not just your legacy, Luke. You can’t carry it alone.”
“I’m not trying to!” he says through gritted teeth. “I was never trying to! I need help, not constant belittlement!”
Ahsoka sighs. “I… I think some of us are afraid,” she says. “We’re afraid it might be too distant from what we knew, even if we barely knew anything in the first place.” She removes her hand and sits, cross-legged, rubbing her arms. She looks much younger than she is, in that moment. “The world we knew is gone, and it’s been gone so long, that to see something being born out of its ashes means… letting go of it.” She looks up, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke.”
He takes a deep breath, and for a long moment he stares at the ground beside her, before making a choice. He sits as well.
“It can’t go back to how it was,” Luke says. “I’m trying. I know it’s not the same, but it can’t be the same. Am I qualified? No. But are any of us? You all left me alone to do this by myself, no help, no guidance, no knowledge. I’ve been working off puzzle pieces that don’t even fit together. You say you want to help now, but it doesn’t feel like help. It just feels like resentment.”
Ahsoka’s breath hitches and she shuts her eyes, a look of pain on her face. “I know. The thing is, you’re doing so well. You’ve given us a place to call home again, you’re finding our history, you’re finding us the future as well…” She rubs at her eyes. “We had nothing for decades. We ran and we hid and we died, and then you came along and...” She gestures at everything around them, the rebuilt dome and the cleared streets and the rebuilt houses. “You even made allies out of old enemies. You’ve done so much.”
She looks at him then, biting her lip. “Is… is this because of Anakin?”
Luke scowls at her. “Not everything is to do with Anakin kriffing Skywalker,” he says waspishly.
“No, I meant… do you feel guilt for what he did?” she asks. “Do you feel bound to it because of him? Because of his actions?”
“I…” Luke swallows, and searches inside himself. I am a Jedi, like my father before me. “No,” he admits. “It’s not guilt. It’s not repentance, because I didn’t do it. It’s more… the right thing to do. It’s because the galaxy will be better for it.” He laughs bitterly. “Not that it feels like it.”
“How so?”
“Sometimes I wonder what the point of it is,” he says gloomily, tugging at the grass beneath his fingers. “Maybe the Order should have stayed dead.”
“Have you ever… thought of leaving?” Ahsoka asks, her voice gentle.
Luke blinks.
“You could, you know,” Ahsoka continues. “You have a husband, a son. Grogu doesn’t need to be a Jedi. You could simply be Luke.”
He’d thought about it, on lonely sleepless nights, curled up in bed on Yavin 4, all alone, where the future seemed impenetrable and murky and ultimately futile. But he hadn’t. He gotten up the next day and continued, one foot in front of the other. Although… well, if Grogu hadn’t have come along, perhaps he would have. Loneliness was becoming too familiar a state of being.
Luke shakes his head. “I am a Jedi. That’s what I am. I couldn’t… I couldn’t see the suffering in the galaxy and turn a blind eye to it, just walk away from it all. Not when I can do so much more.”
Ahsoka smiles then, her eyes creasing. “There’s your answer. That’s the point.” She sighs again. “I think we’ve been neglecting that, but we’ve also been neglecting each other. We’ve all been so isolated, it hasn’t done us good.”
“Jedi are pack animals?” Luke suggests, teasing, and Ahsoka chuckles.
It’s quiet, broken by the sound of children playing a street away and the recycled breeze in the leaves above them.
“You’re a good grandmaster, Luke,” Ahsoka says. “Don’t let us tell you otherwise.”
Luke stiffens, head snapping round to stare at her. “What?”
“A good grandmaster,” she repeats.
He shakes his head. “No. No, I’m no grandmaster, I’m far too young for that…”
“Who else is there?” Ahsoka asks. “Me, the coward running away from her own truth? Cal, who ran away from everything else? Reva, who was an Inquisitor?” She sets her hand on his shoulder again, more confidently this time, and Luke welcomes its weight. “You’ve done more than we ever could. You’re the only one it could be.” She makes a face. “And perhaps being old isn’t always the best choice.”
“I’ll take that,” he says, shrugging. “I’m not calling myself that, though. Not yet, anyway.”
Ahsoka nods with a chuckle.
Together they head back to the compound, and all eyes are on them as they walk through the gate. Grogu sprints across the yard and launches himself into Luke’s arms, babbling wildly and accusatorially.
“Well, they didn’t kill each other,” Reva says.
“Are you ok?” Ezra asks, nervous.
Luke sighs. “Yes. But… It’s been feeling like you’re all against me, like you hate everything I do, and that’s been… demoralising.”
“Talking out your feelings like normal people?” Merrin heckles from her seat beneath the porch – she tends to watch, distant and slightly mocking of it all, but fundamentally supportive. “Not very Jedi.”
Cal rolls his eyes as Reva huffs darkly.
“WE DIDN’T MEAN THAT, LUKE,” Gungi says. “IF YOU HADN’T HAVE FOUND US, WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE, TOGETHER AGAIN.”
“We owe you a lot,” Cal admits, folding his arms. “What you’ve done so far, it’s incredible.”
“And we didn’t get this far by doing it by the book,” Ezra says. “We had to adapt to survive.”
Luke rocks Grogu gently, looking down at him pensively. Grogu looks up, curious, and touches his little claws to Luke’s hand.
It’s for him, isn’t it? Everything that he does, ultimately, is for Grogu, and those that will come after him. The legacy isn’t something they’ve been handed from the past, it’s a debt owed to the future. And there is no future without change.
“The past can prepare us,” Luke says, tickling Grogu behind the ear, just to hear him giggle, “but we can’t chart a course back to it. And I can’t do it alone, I need all of you with me.”
“Spoken like a true grandmaster,” Ahsoka murmurs, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
The word doesn’t fit right now, but perhaps it will, in the future.
now for smth completely different lol. my professor is a big star wars fan so school assignment was to put star wars characters in a different time period/place so my cringe ass put them in a 2010s anime lmao, im pleased with how it looks tho and prof seemed to like it so yay
the thing i really love about dinluke is that yeah, the characters on a fundamental level work really well together because of their parallels with religion and their steadfast beliefs and how insanely powerful they both are in their own ways, but they are also the two most touch starved people i have ever seen - like warriors being soft and gentle with each other is one thing, but din and luke??? din and luke who have both tucked themselves away from the world, who have fought and clawed and killed for everything they have- din and luke who have both been, objectively, lonely people- finally giving in to the gentleness and care the other has to offer? oh. oh. i just keep thinking that it was first time they touch, no armour, no robes, just the softest, most innocent touch, where the resolve between them crumbled. both of them feeling that full-body, high energy feeling of someone else just touching you. shaking hands and hitching breaths. an all consuming feeling of comfort- of rightness- of allowing this person to give what has been denied. to wash the blood and dirt and pain away and see what’s underneath. beyond the helmet and beyond the titles. you cannot tell me that din and luke wouldn’t be the most tender with one another, seeking out touch at times for nothing more than reassurance. to feel that boundless connection that binds them together in the force, racing across their skin. allowing themselves to finally break from fighting, and rest instead.
the photos luke vs. the photos din
takes of din: takes of luke:
luke is actually very photogenic and expressive but din snaps as many pictures as he can whenever he can. which can, ultimately, lead to some...unflattering...pictures. he has thousands of photos of luke in his phone and camera sd cards and luke doesn't unearth them until he asks din if he can look through his camera roll/files to find a photo from a night out and luke just sees face. everywhere.
luke is both flustered and so endeared but he still makes din delete the ugly ones bc "my eyes are half closed! and my pores! they're huge! and i look so goofy in this one! sweetheart, please have mercy 🥺"
and din? well, he obliges, of course, bc luke said so. tho, he thinks it's alright bc by deleting a couple thousand or so photos, he now has fresh storage to take more. and luke, this time, is ready to turn to din and flash him a silly lil grin or make a funny face or just smile, unrestrained and fond, and din is there to capture every one.
Din will never be able to rest
June 16th prompt: old married couple ( @dinlukeweek )
I want this mainlined straight into my body.
fantasy seijoh 4 illustrations i made a while back i wanted to post them together eheh
I need this post at the ready to prove a point.
luke skywalkers gayest looks:
gay ass yellow leather jacket. i mean come on………………..with the floppy ass hair. easily one of his best and gayest looks.
farmboy chic tatooine look. to add another layer of gayness add the poncho and bucket hat. simple yet gets the vibe across.
twink ass green dagobah tank top doing nightmare crossfit. even yoda needed a closer look. need i say more
She/They | You can call me Tru | 20 | Artist who is so inconsistent it's not even funny | I'm on SW/DinLuke shit rn
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