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oliviajdjarin · 2 years

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Din Djarin: A Lucky Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “You felt your hands beginning to shake in unwanted frustration. His breaths continued to stay labored as he slouched over himself, pressing his palm against his bleeding side.

‘What happened?’ you spat.

He breathed deeply once. Twice. The strain in his lungs made your anger waver just so. ‘A lucky shot.’

‘“A lucky shot,”’ you mimicked, lowering your voice to mock him. “I never get tired of your understatements.’

Warnings: rusty Razor Crest and mando’a talk, bleeding, swearing, descriptive wound care (stitching) (probably incorrect I am definitely not a nurse lol), heavy needle talk, Din fainting, reader panicking and screaming and crying, major panic attack, she kind of accepts his death for a second, softness, comfort, allusions to kissing and sex.

A/N: I am sorry for not sticking to my username for the past few months. My mind has been a bit elsewhere, but the weather is getting colder, and that means that Din is getting closer. This was also in my drafts as “Din wound cleaning sobbing” so hopefully this is coherent. I love you all dearly. Thank you for allowing me to do what I love :)

A/N 2: Mando season three trailer…Din girlies are you okay because I’m not.

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or any other form of support, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(gif not mine credit to owner!!)

You felt his blood before you smelt it—the heat of it, not the stickiness. It pressed against your palm and sunk your stomach down to the floor.

“Din?” you whispered.

“Just—” he started, pushing past you. “I just need to sit.

You would have slapped him—should have slapped him—but his beskar would have hurt you more than him.

“Need to sit?” you questioned, anger underlining your tone.

“Yes,” he shot back, and you huffed in annoyance, closing the Crest’s hanger-doors with a press of a button.

You knew something was off the second his speeder-bike came into view. His normally straight-shot driving began to serpentine ever-so-slightly on the Tatooine sand before he shook his head and straightened himself out. You’d never seen him do that before.

He then parked the rust-covered speeder, and winced as he dismounted. You could hear his grunts of pain in your mind, only hearing them faintly and rarely in your time on the Razor Crest.

You never expected to stay as long as you had, and you never expected to grow nauseous at the thought of leaving.

He began his walk over to you, holding his left hand gently over his stomach. You noticed a slight limp as well, but not the worst you had seen from him. Not by a long shot.

You watched and waited for him as he returned, just as you always did, but you could not help your eyebrows creasing in concern. The sand blew, blowing him off his course, and he stumbled over his feet, visibly wincing once again. You squeezed the sides of the doorframe and leaned forward, as if you could catch him from this distance, but he carried on. With every step he took, your anger rose higher and higher, based purely on your fears of him never returning, or only returning long enough for you to watch him fade away into the afterlife.

You just wished he wasn’t so kriffing good at faking being okay. He was like that from the moment you met him.

“A partner?” you questioned. “You’re kidding me, Karga.”

The leader of the Bounty Hunters' Guild rolled his eyes and chuckled in response, leaning further back in his Cantina chair. “I am not having my best profit killed off by mercenaries. You know their violence better than anyone. You need someone on your six.”

He wasn’t wrong. You had dealt with this group before, and the fob he had given you was no easy shot. But you had handled it before.

“So you just don’t want your cut of my profits disappearing, huh? No concern for me?”

“None at all,” he said with a glint in his eye and a tone slicked with sarcasm. That was the closest to an “I care about you” you’d ever get from him.

“Besides, it’ll make this job a much lighter load,” he said, and you took a sip of your drink as you analyzed the situation.

You were a flexible woman, if you did say so yourself, and Greef was making somewhat of an arguable point. Besides, it was only one job.

And you’d rather be caught dead than showing a weakness in a Cantina of all places.

“Alright,” you responded, setting the wooden mug back on the sticky table. “So where are they then? Where is my ‘partner?’”

And that’s when the Cantina went silent, because none other than the fucking Mandalorian walked in, wearing armor worth more than you’d ever see in your life.

You couldn’t help your mouth dropping. Just a little.

You had heard of him—it was impossible to not, especially as an acclaimed member of the Guild—but you didn’t know he would look like…that. Broad shoulders, sinched waist, strong walk, large guns. Fuck.

The look of him only partially excused the fact that he had been taking his pick of the best pucks in Karga’s lot, therefore stealing the opportunity from you. Only partially.

But damn did he look good doing it.

He continued his walk forward, keeping his gaze locked on the general area you were sitting. Eyes bore into him as he walked, causing your heart to race for him.

You wondered if he enjoyed it—the stares, the looks. You wouldn’t find out until much later that he did not, and if you would have looked only a few inches down from his sculpted chest, you would have seen his hands squeezed so tightly it was stretching their leather coating. The tell-tale sign of his discomfort.

He made it to your booth—not bothering to hide his gaze burning a hole through your body—before turning towards Greef and saying, “I want my next job.” His deep voice sent a tingle down your spinal chord.

Greef proceeded to bounce his eyes between you and the Mandalorian’s tall frame, taking his sweet old time. You saw the flicker in his eyes the second the idea came to him, and he opened his arms towards you.

“Right on time,” he said to you, and nodded his head towards the Mandalorian. “Your partner.”

Your eyes widened, your body froze, and you have never left his side since.

Even as you watched his stubborn ass limp through the Tattooine sands, you would never go back on taking that job. Not for a million credits.

Well, maybe two million. And a guarantee he would always come home safe.

He made it to the end of the Crest’s entrance ramp, and you straightened up ever-so-slightly, eyebrows still creased together.

He began walking up the ramp, the old metal squeaking with every step, and you took the opportunity to search each and every visible inch of him for injuries. His armor was in tact, his weapons were unchanged, and the sides of his undershirt looked unstained. He kept his hand floating above his side though, and his breaths became more and more labored as he came closer and closer to you.

He was inches from you when you said his name delicately, trying not to let your anger show through in your tone. “Din? You okay?”

You’d never get over the taste of his name.

He sighed loudly, and you brought your hands to his solid chest when he finally reached you. His familiar scent of sweat and metal hit you instantly, and you felt the one spot your eyes couldn’t see from far away, a space of revealed undershirt just underneath chest piece. His weak spot.

That’s when you felt it—the heat of blood against the pads of your fingers, and he proceeded to storm past you. He stumbled over to and sat on a random storage container to steady himself as you closed the doors to the Crest, and you turned back around with your arms folded. You felt your hands beginning to shake in unwanted frustration. His breaths continued to stay labored as he slouched over himself, pressing his palm against his bleeding side.

“What happened?” you spat.

He breathed deeply once. Twice. The strain in his lungs made your anger waver just so. “A lucky shot.”

“‘A lucky shot,’” you mimicked, lowering your voice to mock him. “I never get tired of your understatements.”

He groaned in response. “I’m fine. Just need some—” he winced as he spoke. “Just need some help.”

You nodded and walked over to your First Aid drawers, grinding your teeth, and crouched down in front of them, muscle memory carrying you through where each piece of equipment was whilst your mind traveled elsewhere.

“You said this would be a quick one,” you spat.

“It should have been,” he replied.

“Yeah, you should have been back two days ago.”

“Says you, of all people,” he countered. “Last time you were gone an extra week.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I told you it would take longer. That’s the difference between us Din, I communicate. I actually use our kriffing comm links.”

You grabbed one last roll of gauze and shut the drawer forcefully, more forcefully than you initially intended, and stood up to turn to him.

“I couldn’t risk them tracing our location,” Din said in reply. His counters to your comments were knocking the wind out of him. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” you began, walking to the fresher to fill a bucket of water. “I do know that. But I also know that I’d rather be put at risk by knowing you’re alive than thinking you’re dead for two days straight.”

He went silent at this, and you ran the faucet over the bucket, filling it up to the brim. This awkward silence was what the air in the Crest was always filled with for the first month or two you had taken him up on his offer to join him. Before the two of you had become…whatever the hell you were.

Despite your tone, you valued bickering and arguing like this more than you could even describe. It meant the two of you had progressed past the stage he was in with everyone else in the galaxy—cold, calculating, silent. With you, he could show his underbelly, he could call you out on your shit, he could show you his weak spot, and he could let enough of his personality show to match your wit with his own.

And, most importantly, it meant that he was alive.

Your Mandalorian was still alive.

You closed your eyes and let this thought coat your insides, filling you with relief instead of anger. You exhaled and turned off the sink, lifting the bucket from the hollow metal. Your rage turned to elation at the fact that he was still breathing, and your focus switched to making sure he stayed that way.

“I’m sorry Din,” you said, and held the bucket with one arm while turning off the fresher light with the other. “You just always manage to scare the shit out of—”

You were cut off by a thump. A loud thump, metal bouncing off metal, and your blood turned to ice.

“Din?” you questioned, pupils dilating as you felt the first drops of panic begin to drip into your stomach. You turned out of the fresher, only to find his body splayed on the Crest floor. Chest unmoving.

The bucket and First Aid dropped from your hands, coating the entirety of your pants and the floor in water, and you ran to him, falling to your knees at his side.

“Din!” you yelled, feeling where his undershirt was now soaked with blood. Its normally dark brown was now crimson red across the entirety of his stomach, and he was out cold.

“No no no Din,” you said, shaking his body with as much strength as you could. “Din!”

Your voice cracked with desperation, more than you had let out in years, but he remained limp as you rocked his body back and forth. You brought your hands to your head, as if that would keep you from crumbling.

“No, no,” you whispered, throat catching on a sob. “What do I—what do I do?”

You were no medic. The only training you had was from experience—stitching your own cuts, cauterizing your own wounds, and doing the same to him—but nothing to this degree. This much blood.

“What do I do!” you whispered firmly, defeatedly. You began shaking him again. “You’re supposed to tell me what to do!”

Tears dripped into your mouth as you stared at his frame. You felt blind without his help—trapped. How did you function before him? Before that deep voice coached you through life in such a way that made you feel seen, not lectured. You wanted nothing more than to just hear his voice through his modulator, maybe a chuckle if you were lucky.

Get up, he would say to you. Get up cyar’ika, you can do this.

Bits of your nerve began to return to you and you forced yourself to breathe. You swallowed grimly, licked your lips, and took a deep breath.

You couldn’t afford to panic. You were a kriffing bounty hunter, and a good one at that. You could do this.

Get up.

And you did. On shaking legs you stood, feeling the blood drop from your head, filling it with lightness.

Hurry mesh’la. Hurry, he would say, and you did.

You gathered the materials as quickly as you could, salvaging the small amount of water left in the bucket, and you returned to him. Tears continued to fall and your throat continued to close, but you were doing it. You were moving.

Good. Just keep breathing.

You took a breath as you kneeled beside him, still moving swiftly.

Now take the armor off, you imagined him saying, but you hesitated. You’ve seen more than enough of me.

This was true. You had cauterized wounds on his shoulders and lower back before, but never on his front. Your heart picked up at the thought of his potentially muscled body, but you stayed focused.

With another deep breath you reached forward and popped his chest piece off, setting it delicately to the side of him. You did the same with his arm pieces, moving quicker and quicker as you went, before finally sliding off his cape and removing his belt. While you remained rushed, you set the beskar down gently, knowing their meaning to him.

You had him down to his undershirt, and the mix of sweat and blood hit you. The crimson had stretched from his lower stomach up to his middle. You threatened to break again, but with the armor removed, a delicate rise and fall of his chest was visible. You let out a cry of relief.

Unzip me now. We don’t have all day.

You brought your trembling hands to the zipper of his undershirt and slowly pulled it down. Once it reached the end you pulled the material down to lay on his waist. You were forced to peel the soaked material off of his stomach and arms, and the vibrant red began staining your hands.

His normally bronzed and scarred skin was coated with red…so much red. You couldn’t lose your nerve. Not now.

The cut in his stomach was deep, deep enough that stitching was a definite. His lungs continuing to fill with air kept you focus, as well as his ever-present voice in your head.

You won’t hurt me cyar’ika, you could never.

Picking the needle and thread from the First Aid, you threaded the eye as quick as you could with your trembling fingers, and leaned over his hot body to begin stitching. Despite the wound, the blood, and the smell, it was still Din you were seeing bare. You didn’t know how he still managed to make it all beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, lining up the needle. Tears spilled into your mouth. “I’m sorry.” And you began to stitch.

It was not for the faint of heart—watching the thin point work itself in and out and in and out of his skin, pulling the pieces together tightly to ensure they stayed. The cut was clean, yes, but its depth caused for lots of tugging. A part of you was thankful he had fallen under, while the rest of you begged for his return.

You checked his pulse and his breathing routinely as you worked, stitching faster than you had ever done in your life.

I’m still here. I’m not leaving.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please Din.”

With one final loop through, the stitching was complete. You snipped the thread away from his skin and removed your hands from his body. His blood stained your skin all the way to your wrists, but you didn’t care. He wasn’t bleeding anymore. It was done.

You began to get feeling back in your body. You felt the stain of sweat on your back, the cramping in your knees from leaning over him, and a mix of sweat, tears, and snot covering your face. Your panic was starting to bridge its way into exhaustion.

You did it cyar. The hard part’s over. Just need cleaned.

You exhaled and placed your hands on your knees before getting up to quickly rinse off your hands. You then rushed back to him and dunked an extra rag into the bucket of water. You dragged it around his wound carefully, and watched his freckles and scars begin to appear on his skin.

It wasn’t perfect, but he was cleaned, dried, and stitched as best as you could have possibly done. All he needed to do was wake up.

You bit your lip and checked his pulse again, and the pillar of hope that had been unconsciously built inside you crumbled.

It was barely there. His pulse was barely there.

You were too late. Too slow. Too weak.

“No.” You began shaking your head, pressing down firmly onto his smooth neck, as if that would fix it.

“You can’t…not now,” you whined. “Not now. Please not now Din please.”

You would die with him. He would take every part of you when he left, and not leave anything behind.

“Din!” you screamed, shaking him again. “Come on please! Please Din—”

You were cut off by your own sobs.

“You’re—you’re my partner Din I need you,” you cried. “You’re my partner please don’t go. Please don’t leave Din please I tried.”

You rested your head above his wound, practically throwing yourself across him. “I tried.”

The damn had broken. You sobbed endlessly, imagining the life that could have been if you had just moved a little bit fucking faster. His skin was warm against you, but you knew it would eventually run cold, signifying that Din had truly left this life and moved onto the next.

You regretted the last words he heard from you. You wished they were the three words that had been stuck on the tip of your tongue for weeks, but they weren’t.

You were a coward, and now he’d never hear them.

“Please Din.” You could barely whisper. Your body was racked with only agony, and you kept your face embedded into his skin. Your tears slid off his soft skin, and your aching heart pounded relentlessly in your temples. “Please come back to me. I’m so sorry.”

Cyar, I’m right here.

“No,” you whispered, knowing that voice was only in your head. You never wanted to hear it again. You didn’t deserve to. “I’m so sorry. I failed. I failed—”

Cyar, hey—

“—you, I failed you.”

Hey.

A leathered hand cupped your cheek, and you realized that it wasn’t your heart pounding in your head—it was his.

Your neck snapped up, tears continuing to drip down your neck, but his neck was propped up, looking at you.

Looking at you.

“Din!” you yelled, and wrapped your arms around him.

He chuckled and held you close, letting you tuck your chin into his bristly neck. His arms—bare arms—wrapped around you was something you never thought you would ever feel. You only cried harder.

“I’m alright,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” That familiar tingle stretched up your back.

You couldn’t help the tears. Shock and panic were still hitting you, but waves of relief crashed overtop of them, bringing you back down. To this moment. To Din holding you close.

You breathed in his scent as your cries slowed to a stop, and you laid with him. Listening to his heartbeat sink up with yours.

“Didn’t mean to scare you mesh’la,” he whispered with a chuckle, and you laughed almost manically.

“You nearly killed me Din Djarin,” you replied, still laughing.

“Y/N,” he said, and moved your face away from his neck. He framed it with his hands and brushed your tears away from your cheeks. “You’re my partner too, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a breath, as if his words were getting caught in his throat. “I—I need you too.”

Your lip quivered and you nodded to him. You knew what he meant.

“You did not fail me,” he said. “You saved me. Thank you.”

You exhaled. “You’re welcome.”

He then brought your forehead to his own, and the stream of tears in your eyes opened up again.

This time, however, it was from happiness. Pure elation. Because you knew what he was doing.

Chills erupted along your back at the feeling of the cold metal against your burning forehead, and you rubbed your nose back and forth against it, invoking another chuckle from him.

He kissed you. Din Djarin had just kissed you, and one day, you hoped to return the favor.

“You need ice,” you whispered against him. “And bacta. And sleep.”

He nodded against you, and you pecked the crown of his forehead. You then brought your mouth down to his neck and kissed his pulse, and the slight groan he let out was anything but pain. It was muffled enough to show that he attempted to hide it, but was unsuccessful. His large hands squeezed your hips, and you smiled against his skin, smelling purely Din. No blood.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered, and kissed him again before standing and walking to the basement of the Crest. You rubbed your nose and sniffled, still tasting his sweat and skin on your mouth.

Those three words would come. Until then, this was enough.

Translations:

Mesh’la— beautiful

Cyar’ika— beloved

Cyar— beloved

Tag list: (I apologize if you are not tagged/your tag is not working. Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r

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wannab-urs · 3 months

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Trust

Prompt #634 "I trust you not just with my life, but with the lives of others."

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: season 2 finale fight scene rewrite

Warnings: uhhh brief threat of death? That's it really. WC: 418

A/N: Due to my crazy ass writer's block, and thanks to the recommendation from @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, I'm gonna start doing these @creativepromptsforwriting challenges. You pick a number 1-1065 and write for 15 minutes based on the corresponding prompt.

Did I even use the prompt? No not really. Is this drabble creative, interesting, or innovative in any way? Also no. But it's words! Which I've been struggling with. It's unedited also.

Din Djarin Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Prompt Fills

Mando is one of the most trustworthy men you know. He would never let anyone down if he could help it. You trust him with your life, with Grogu’s life, with the lives of any stranger that needs help.

That’s why it’s incredibly concerning that he isn’t here now. It’s very unlike him to leave you to fend for yourself.

Moff Gideon has you pinned in the corner of some godsforsaken cell, the kid cradled protectively in one arm while the other keeps a blaster trained steadily on the Moff’s head. The strange weapon he wields twirls from his fingertips as if it weighs nothing. He seems completely unphased by the weapon aimed at him.

“Hand over the child and no one has to lose any limbs,” he taunts.

“No kriffing shot, Gideon.”

He won’t swing on you with the child in your arms… you hope. Gideon presses in closer, forcing you further back into the cell. You fire off a shot at his head, hoping it doesn’t ricochet back into you or Grogu.

Gideon blocks the shot easily with his energy blade, sending the blaster bolt into the ground by your feet. Too close. And Gideon knows it. Knows you won’t risk another shot. He closes the space between you and tries to yank Grogu from your arms, but you twist away from him.

With your back exposed to him, he can easily run you through with his sword without harming the child. This is it. Where the fuck is Mando?

You brace for death, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the distinct sound of beskar clashing with that strange sword. You slouch onto the ground, Grogu pressed tightly to your chest, and watch your mandalorian battle the Moff.

He’s beautiful with that spear in his hands. All swift, fluid motion. The sword hums and growls with every impact, but it doesn’t seem to be able to cut through the spear.

Mando hooks the spear behind Gideon’s leg and yanks, dropping the man to flat on his back. He presses the tip of the weapon against the Moff’s throat, but doesn’t press in.

“Drop the saber, Gideon.”

Gideon retracts the blade back into the hilt, flips it around, and holds it out to Mando.

“Take it. You defeated me in combat. It’s yours.”

Din stares down at him, seeming to falter a bit.

“I don’t want it.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s yours. Bo Katan will not be the leader of her people after all… Mand’alor”

“Kriff.”

@creativepromptfills

#Din Djarin #Din Djarin fics #Din Djarin fanfiction #Din Djarin x reader #Din Djarin x you #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian fics #The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x reader #The Mandalorian x you #634 #creativepromptsforwriting

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thoselittleboats · 8 months

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transcript

I don't know if this has been done yet? Luthen version of the Navy Seal Copypasta happy (early) Andor-versary! I'm shitposting for real now:

What the kriff did you just kriffing ask, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Rebel Navy, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the Empire, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in guerrilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire Alliance armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the kriff out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this planet, mark my kriffing words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me? Think again, kriffer. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the galaxy and you’re being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, mudscuffer. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're kriffing dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Alliance military and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the galaxy, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your kriffing tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're kriffing dead, kiddo.

#andor #luthen rael #star wars #sw andor #andoredit #starwarsedit #swedit #stellan skarsgard #the way I barely changed it and it still works #“the pathetic little thing you call your life” can't believe he hasn't said that to anyone yet xD #real talk: this is my favorite speech/scene in all of star wars #wish I could wipe my mind and experience the whole show again honestly

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writerlyhabits · 2 years

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Shine and Polish

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Request: "Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you send tweet"

Warnings: mild language, mature themes, Din in sweatpants, I think that's it?? Idk it's a short one

AN: I want to formally apologize to all of you who sent Din requests to my inbox that have been sitting there for a while, I promise I see you, I just had such a hard time finding the right motivation and inspiration for these pieces. Hopefully I can get the others pumped out in a decent timeline as well 🤞 Thanks @deceiverofgodss for bullying me into working on this, ily 💛 I hope you guys enjoy!

The beskar armor was a large part of his intimidation. It widened his frame – which was admittedly big enough without it – making him bulkier, heavier, a force to be reckoned with. It represented the history of warriors before him, Mandalorians through generations maintaining their reputation of being a people you don’t come back from a fight with. The dark visors and emotionless helmets only helped on that front, he couldn’t even count how many people had tried to back their way out of trouble with one silent look from him.

Each beskar’gam was unique to the Mandalorian wearing it, and they take special care to make sure it looks as intimidating as wearing it makes them feel. Some go out of their way to paint their beskar, symbolizing their journey with specific colors and designs of their heritage. For Din, it’s keeping the pure metal shined and polished – it turns heads and sends a whisper through the crowd at the mere sight of him.

It takes a lot to keep it that way.

He’d had to get his new armor after the Mud horn, but getting out the mud caked into the rest of it had taken much longer than he cared to admit. Being swallowed by the Krayt Dragon and then walking through the Tatooine desert had left him scrubbing the dried goo from crevices he didn’t know existed for hours after you and the kid had fallen asleep. And now, he could only imagine the hassle it would be getting all the blood that kriffing Nexu had gotten all over his armor.

Din was damn near ready to collapse when you all had gotten back to your room at the inn, but he could feel the dirt and grime that was building up underneath his flight suit. He watched you launch Grogu into the air a few times, hugging him close as you flopped down onto one of the small beds, and sending a wink Din’s way.

You were a saint. With the kid nestled into your arms and properly distracted, he began stripping off his Beskar and setting it down on the caf table. He’d have to get to it after he got out of the ‘fresher. One more glance over at you, smiling to himself as little green hands grabbed your cheeks to try and escape your barrage of kisses, and he slipped into the bathroom.

The reflection looking back at him in the mirror was rough, to say the least, but when the hot water pounded into his skin the rest of the galaxy faded away.

It felt like heaven. He let it run across his face as he tried to revive his hair, though he didn’t know what difference it would make, it would be flattened under the helmet again once he stepped out. The pressure of the water worked wonders on the knots in his shoulders. He’d have to find a way to get those out sooner rather than later. Maybe he could sweet talk you into helping… He could just imagine how your nimble fingers would feel gliding across his skin, easing his muscles, gripping his shoulders while he-

No. That was enough of that. Dangerous territory Djarin, keep it together.

You’d been traveling with Din for… well, it had been a long time now. You’d been with him through thick and thin, been there well before he’d picked up a strange bounty from an imperial imp, and fallen in love with the little green bounty just as much as he had. And after having lost the kid and gotten him back, a handful of times Din had still yet to tell you how he felt. At least, not in a way you’d be able to pick up on.

Each day that passed where he would choke on his words, he watched you instead. He knew what would catch your eye as you walked through the markets on rural planets, he knew your favorite foods and could tell what you would get for yourself – often before you did. He knew how to read your body language as well as you had come to read his, and you were so in tune with each other that it felt as if you’d known each other your whole lives.

So why couldn’t he just fucking say what he meant? Instead, he stood by your side and watched as that pretty smile formed on your cheeks, watched your eyes sparkle in the starlight, watched you smother Grogu in loving affection… All he ever did was watch.

He wanted to take your hand for more reasons than pulling you along behind him, he wanted to do it for no reason. He wanted to stand too close and put his hand at the small of your back, brush his bare thumb across your cheek to comfort you, hold you close to keep you warm late at night. He wanted to run his hands over all your curves, see your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, feel you quiver beneath him as he-

Dank farrik, cut it out. Din turned the water ice cold to shake himself of the thoughts, pushing them back into the corners of his mind where they belonged. He couldn’t afford to think of you like that, not while he kept watching without saying a damn word about how he felt.

He took his time leaving the room that was now filled with humid air and steam from his shower. It had made it easier to clean the blood that had splattered on his helmet, polishing it to look as clean as he felt. He dressed in a fresh set of lounge clothes – an investment he’d made at your insistence, and one he’d thanked you for every time the soft clothes draped against his skin – and placed the helmet back on his head, ready to face the rest of his party once again.

With you, he was prepared for anything. He loved your wild spirit, a shining beacon of your warmth in a galaxy that was otherwise cold and unkind. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see you sitting on the floor with his beskar in your hands, half of the pieces on the caf table having been cleaned and polished.

It was times like these he was thankful he was hidden behind the helmet, because his cheeks were burning in an incriminating shade of red.

“I like your pants, Din,” you smiled, only looking up from his shoulder piece to give him a playful smirk. And was that..? Of fucking course it was the one with his signet. Cause that’s what he needed right now. “Those the really soft ones I convinced you to get on Naboo?”

“I- yeah… they’re uh, nice,” he managed, feet rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of the way you were being so delicate with his armor.

“Oh, they’re nice. Well, aren’t you chatty.” Any other time, he might’ve laughed. Currently, his brain was rewiring itself. His lack of response must have been noticeable because now you were setting your rag aside and giving him a concerned look. “Is everything okay?”

If ever there was a loaded question, that would be it.

“Yeah, just fine.” A cock of your eyebrow told him that you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t seem to get any words of consolation out of his mouth. A few more beats of silence passed, Din tried swallowing the lump in his throat a few times, and then he saw something in your expression shift. You were figuring it out… Your focus shifted back down to the shoulder piece in your hand, drifted to the others on the caf table beside you, and found his again with worry in your eyes.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” he was quick to assure you. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t broken some sacred bond between you and your armor?” His heart was hammering in his chest, but you were still able to get an amused huff out of him, which you had told him were barely audible outside of the helmet. He shook his head to answer your question, and in response, you set the now shining shoulder piece back with the rest of his armor. “Will you tell me what’s going on then? You’re freaking me out.”

Maker, where would he start?

He took a deep breath and decided to take a seat on the floor across from you, leaning against the side of the table. He bent his knees so his feet were flat – grounding him, in a way – his arms rested on top of them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, possibly giving the appearance that he was relaxing, giving his body a rest. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“When a Mandalorian cleans another’s armor, it’s a representation of trust,” he started, figuring it would be better if he led with an explanation instead of a blunt answer. “The one removing their armor becomes vulnerable, unprotected by their beskar; they are trusting the other with that vulnerability. And as the other polishes the armor they’ve been trusted with, they help prepare them for battle.”

“That’s beautiful,” you whispered, and only then did he dare look at you. A soft smile graced your cheeks, very visibly put at ease at not having made some great offense to his creed.

“It’s… a very common courting ritual.” Your eyes widened, and your lips parted in realization. Din didn’t know if he wanted to grab you, pull you into his lap and tell you exactly what had been on his mind the second he saw you with his armor… or if he wanted to run from the room until you could both forget about this entirely.

He was on the verge of opening his mouth to take it back, to assure you it didn’t always have to mean something that significant – even if that would be a lie – but you beat him to the punch.

“Tell me more,” you lilted, head tilted in curiosity. “What else do courting Mandos do?” His nerves would have done well with a very large glass of spotchka to have this conversation, though having a sober judgment was probably in his best interest.

“Mandalorians are big on hidden meanings, a lot of what we do tends to symbolize something bigger.”

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled, easing his nerves enough to get another small laugh out of him.

“In a way, it’s somewhat similar to any other relationship. Building trust, getting to know each other, spending time together. The difference is in that underlying meaning, our rituals intended to show how together you both will honor the Resol'nare.” He paused to give you a minute to take it in, stop him if you needed further explanation, but your evident eagerness prompted him forward. “They usually represent how you will contribute to the community together, how you will provide for one another. How you will rear children together.”

That last statement made his heart skip and sent an electric shot through his body – and to a part of him that didn’t need to be present in this conversation.

“I guess that makes sense, there’s no Resol’nare in a non-mando relationship, but you still try to figure out how a life together is going to look,” you agreed. “Are most of your rituals like this one? Providing acts of service to your partner?”

“A good many of them, yes. Polishing armor, cleaning weapons…” You were too clever for him to get away with this, he saw the slight tilt of your lips as the same realization hit you both; he always cleaned your weapons for you. Even after he’d taught you how to clean your blaster, he would hold out his hand and make some kind of excuse about it being easier since he was already cleaning his own.

He could recover from this. “Some gift handcrafted weapons, and if their bond is strong enough, those weapons will bear the other’s signet.” He’d yet to give you a mudhorn, that one was easy. Given, there weren’t very many items that had a mudhorn on them in passing, otherwise he might not have been able to resist the temptation. But while he was in the clear, he watched the slight drop in your demeanor.

“Are you allowed to so openly wear someone else’s signet?”

“Not on your armor. But with a weapon, it is a gift that you may carry the other’s signet while courting, not necessarily that you may wear it as your own.” You nodded in understanding, and he waited for that slight knowing smile to come back to your cheeks, and was surprised at his disappointment when it didn’t. He was in the clear, you wouldn’t suspect him…

And maybe he didn’t want that anymore.

“That one is more formal, but there are others to do with hunting and providing,” he said quickly, acting on instinct to try and reel you back in. “A basic, instinctive display of protection; bringing meats and hides from your hunt, preparing their favorite foods…” He couldn’t find the words to continue anymore when your gaze met his visor and softened. You figured him out, and his heart may have been beating in his ears, but he was no less confident in his quiet admission.

“Din?” you asked gently, and he said your name in acknowledgement. “Have you been flirting with me?”

“Yes.” The sparkling smile that spread across your cheeks sent a warm feeling through his body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed time. That was the only way I knew how to do anything about it without making a fool of myself, or ruining one of the few good things that I have,” he smiled, and you turned away from him to hide your own flustered expression.

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know that’s what you were doing,” you laughed.

“That was the point,” he smiled, and you shook your head exasperatedly as your gaze settled back out into the room. He followed your line of sight, landing on the child as he sat happily in the cocoon of blankets and toys you had crafted for him on one of the beds.

Din felt a familiar ache as he watched his foundling, one that longed for these little domestic routines with your mis-matched family. He tried to ignore them because of the desire for you they had a tendency to inspire, despite the fact that no matter what he liked to call you, the three of you were a family in your own way. And yet, this time felt different. It felt comfortable.

He caught your movement in his peripherals, turning his head slightly to find you grinning curiously at him. “Now that I know… how do you feel?” He took a second to inhale before he responded, steadying himself.

“That depends. Other than your piqued interest, I still don’t have an answer to how you feel.” He was sure you saw right through him; he wasn’t an ignorant man, he could assume how you felt based on your response. But he’d done enough of that. Besides, it was your turn to be the one spilling your guts.

“Well… I’ll tell you that now I know where I’ll pick up dinner tonight.”

“That’s not what I-”

“The cantina we passed in town, they have that soup I know you love,” you started, quick to cut him off and make him see your damn point. “I don’t know if it counts because I didn’t prepare it, but that’s the best I can do for now. You’re just gonna have to read between the lines, Mandalorian.” He only stared at you for a few moments, taking in your growing smile, warm and mischievous in a way that was so unique to you.

You were flirting back at him.

You liked him.

Instead of finding words to reply, having used up his usual quota, Din shifted in his place on the floor to reach out for you. Your soft laughter lit up his entire body as he pulled you closer, and you slid into his lap with ease. He could no longer deny himself with your half-spoken admission, giving in to the part of him that needed to have you close as often as he could manage.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

Speaking of, if you wouldn’t mind answering my survey about what you think of my library/taglist system? It’d help me figure out how to reach you guys best. I’d really appreciate it!

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #anonymous #anonymous request #din djarin fluff #kam takes forever to do shit #kam writes #my writing

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 11 months

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I'm not even kidding Bree's relationship with Yoda gets to me to the point of TEARS. It's breaking my heart I love it so much.

This kid wins his battle through violence and bloodlust and so Yoda just up and leaves, because there's nothing else for him to do. The people are safe, but they wanted to fix their problems with more hatred, so they don't need him there.

And so for Bree's ENTIRE LIFE UP TO ADULTHOOD, he regrets disappointing Yoda.

People hail him as a hero and he's just heartbroken that he missed the whole point and he wants Yoda back 😭😭

And then Yoda comes back because Bree's people are in danger again, and nothing Bree did could make Yoda stop caring about them all 😭😭 and Yoda comes back with the musical instrument Bree made for him all these years ago 😭😭 that he never stopped playing 😭😭😭

Like exCUSE kriffing me, this grown man crying like the kid he used to be because his childhood hero has come back and doesn't hate him, never hated him—

Imagine your biggest regret in life being that you bitterly disappointed the person who believed in you most, who you looked up to as a mentor, and then he strolls back into your life exactly the same as he ever was and he doesn't see you as a failure and he has come to fight for you after all this time!!

And then you end up getting the opportunity to do things right and redeem yourself through peace and you make your mentor proud after all!!

It also says something tragic about Yoda and the way he impacts people's lives. He lives so long and so many people end up needing his help that he creates all sorts of bonds throughout the entire galaxy but can't be there for them all all the time - and they end up hurt, like Bree, just by how much they miss him and wish he would guide every decision they make. But they don't realize that for their own good, he has to let them make their own choices (just like Yoda doesn't counsel Bree at all when he comes back, but Bree now knows what to do all on his own, even if he wants Yoda to tell him what to do).

Anyway I'm just sensitive about people looking up to Yoda so much and genuinely loving him like he's their actual grandpa.

#meta #long post #yoda comic #yoda appreciation #yoda #bree star wars #star wars

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imaginedisish · 2 years

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Fade Into You (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! (This my third reupload. My tags aren’t working. I’m so sorry....this must be super annoying. This is more of a test, and it’ll be the last time I reupload lol. If the fic doesn’t show up in tags, it doesn’t show up. I’m just trying to fix it). Here is that sex pollen fic I said I’d write. I only proofread once…so I’m sorry if this is sloppy. It’s inspired by “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star. Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: You’re injected with something mysterious while hunting down a bounty…and Din takes care of it.

Warnings: THIS IS SUPER SMUTTY OML. 18+ Sex Pollen, dubcon bc of that, but there really is no questionable consent here…they both clearly give it. Oral/fingering (f!receiving), PIV-unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), canon typical violence, friends to lovers, greyjedi!reader, cursing, probably a good deal of grammatical errors, Crest still exists, and I sorta ignore Grogu at the end…yeah that’s it.

Word Count: 3,177

“When are we going to kriffing stop?” You ask, taking another step, the leaves that flood the forest floor crushing under your feet.

Din scoffs under his helmet. “Not until we find the bounty.” You groan audibly at his answer. You had been walking for what felt like hours, no, centuries. “You know it’s only been thirty minutes, right?” There’s a smirk in his voice. You silently wish you could see it spreading across his lips. You bet he smiles with his eyes, that his entire face glows when he makes his sarcastic quips at you.

You can’t help but smile at him as you shake your head. “It’s definitely been longer than thirty minutes.” You stop in your tracks, hands on your hips, head tilting to the side. He stops a few seconds after you, immediately imitating your stance.

“Aren’t you a Jedi?” He questions sardonically, but you can’t take him seriously standing like that, standing like you. The smile on your face widens. He’s almost playful. He had been more relaxed with you lately, especially since you had started training Grogu.

You tilt your head to the other side for added effect as your foot taps impatiently against the ground. “You know I’m no Jedi.” You drop the act, taking a few steps until you meet Din’s side. While you weren’t a Jedi, given that you disagreed with most of their teachings despite being taught by one, you did consider yourself to be somewhere in the middle, balanced. You only hoped you could give Grogu an ounce of balance. It was something that took years of training to develop, to understand.

Din’s hands fall from his hips, wavering at his side. You want to grab his hands, to hold them in your own, but you fight the urge. “I know…” He trails off. Something feels different about his voice, softer. His head moves ever-so-slightly, nodding to the gurgling green thing asleep in his floating crib. “But you’re strong.” It’s genuine. “You’re more than enough for him.” And far more than enough for me, He thinks to himself.

You tentatively extend your hand out, your fingertips brushing Din’s wrist softly before clasping around it. You can hear what he’s getting at in between the lines. You smile, furrowing your brows incredulously. “I’m the lucky one,” You whisper, lightly squeezing his wrist.

I want to hold the hand inside you I want to take the breath that's true

You struggle to let go, wanting nothing else but to hold onto him forever. “I don’t know where I’d be without you,” You suddenly confess. You’re not sure where the words come from. “And the kid, too,” You amend, trying to fight the way your heart beats out of your chest.

Din’s visor doesn’t break away from your direction. You stare towards the ground, hoping to avoid his gaze, but you know it’s still on you. This was always how it happened, the stolen glances, the witty quips, the whispered confessions. They were always in passing, ready to be taken back with a generalization or the mention of the kid or some other mask or disguise.

But you and Din were dancing dangerously close to that edge. One step too far and you’d fall. As if you hadn’t fallen already.

You and Din remain frozen for a few seconds, turning away from each other to scan the forest to break the tension of the moment. But something feels off. You’re not alone. You can feel someone else, someone you can’t see, someone watching you and Din. And then, there’s a crunch – but your feet are rooted to the ground, and Din hasn’t moved either.

Another. Crunch.

“Din,” You whisper, holding your palm up, signaling him to pay attention. “We’re not alone.”

And then, as if on command, what feels like a claw wraps around your waist, dragging you away. Everything is moving far faster than you can comprehend. You fumble with your utility belt, securing your lightsaber in your hand and igniting it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Your captor’s voice rings out against your ear as he knocks the saber out of your hand. You’ve never felt more helpless, more defeated than you do in this moment.

Suddenly a blaster shot rings out, and you shut your eyes tightly, the sound echoing throughout the forest. Your captor freezes, and you stare up at him. He’s your bounty.

And he looks terrified.

“Drop the girl.” Din’s modulated voice breaks the silence. He’s standing just a few feet away, his blaster facing you and the bounty. The bounty presses something sharp into your back in response.

“One more step and I’ll inject this in her.” His voice shakes as he slightly removes the sharp object from your back so that Din can see the needle in his hand. He shoves it back against you the second Din eases up on his blaster. “I don’t even know what this one does. Just picked it out of my bag. Could be bacta, could kill her.”

“Let her go. Now.” You had never heard Din so palpably angry. There’s an urgency in his voice, a growl. “Or you’re going to regret it. I gave you a warning shot. You know what comes next.”

“Yeah, I do.” The needle stabs into your back, and you can hear the bounty squeeze the plunger of the needle to its end. You squirm, hissing as the serum flows into your bloodstream.

BANG. Your ears ring painfully, and you fall to the ground. You don’t realize Din picked you up and started running back towards the ship until you see Grogu’s crib floating alongside you, now safely closed. The bounty disappears in the distance, dead on the ground. He killed for you.

“Din?” Your voice wavers. Everything feels hazy, warm, fuzzy. You have no idea what the bounty injected you with. Nonetheless, you don’t want to be a burden. You’re slowing Din down. The bounty might not be alone, there could be someone following behind. “Put me down.” Your voice is stronger now. You’re starting to regain a bit of strength.

“No, mesh’la, I’ve got you,” He reassures, but he’s not quite convincing. “Just stay with me, okay?” There’s an overwhelming panic in his voice. You haven’t seen him like this since Grogu was kidnapped.

“I’m fine,” You mutter, but Din doesn’t react. If anything, he tightens his grip on you. “Really Din, I think I’m okay. Why are you worrying so much?”

Again, he keeps you pressed tightly against his chest. “I care about you, kid.” He’s almost curt as his modulated voice slips out from under his helmet. He cares. You always assumed he did, but he’s never said those words. They cling to you, replaying on an endless loop in your mind. You want to hear him say them again.

You decide to give in, wrapping your arms around his neck. It feels nice, the way he’s holding you, his cold beskar pricking at the small spots of exposed skin around your stomach. Maybe a little too nice. You can feel yourself getting warmer, everywhere. Maybe you aren’t okay. Whatever the bounty injected into you, you know it’s starting to take hold.

There’s an all too familiar knot building in your stomach, a dull ache between your legs. “No kriffing way…” You trail off, beads of sweat starting to break out along your forehead. You squeeze your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction as the feeling worsens. It was getting sickening.

You were dosed with an aphrodisiac.

“What is it, cyare?” Cyare. You don’t know what it means, but the pet name, the way his honeyed voice reverberates in his vocoder, sounds so good. You want to feel the mouth that made those sounds against your own.

You swallow harshly, trying to calm yourself down and hold yourself back. But you can’t. “F-fuck,” You stutter, heat rippling through your body, the sensation practically tearing you in half. Your core is pulsing, aching for Din. You needed to get to your bunk, now. The Crest was just up ahead, it wouldn’t be much longer. You can hold on for a few more minutes. That’s all it’ll take.

“Tell me what you need, cyar’ika, anything.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, what he’s doing to you. But he means it. He’d truly do anything for you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the thought. Anything. “D-don’t talk like that,” You practically moan as you tremble in his arms. “T-this isn’t something you can help me with.”

But Maker, you wish he could.

“What do you mean?” He asks. There’s something more than concern in his voice; it’s fear, the fear that maybe you won’t make it. “You gotta tell me what you’re feeling. You can’t be stubborn this time. You have to talk to me.” There’s a forcefulness behind his words, a certain confidence and command that makes you clench around nothing. He was right, this was getting worse. You can’t handle this on your own.

“I-it’s…” You’re a blabbering, stuttering mess, putty in his arms. “I think it’s some kind of aphrodisiac…” It’s only getting worse, building up in your stomach. You’re so intensely hot that you can’t even feel the wind against your skin. It was painful, unbelievably agonizing. You needed Din, needed to feel him inside of you, against you, anything, something.

Din stops in his tracks, the ramp of the Crest falling down in front of you. “Oh.” He’s shocked for just a moment before brushing it off and practically running up the ramp.

“D-Din I feel like I’m dying,” You whimper, your thighs squeezing together as tightly as humanly possible. “P-please,” You beg. “Please just touch me. C-can’t d-do it myself, ‘need to feel you.”

“Fuck,” Din grunts, stepping into the hull. “You don’t mean that. It’s the drug. You don’t want me like that, cyare.” But he wishes to himself that you did.

You shake your head. How could he possibly be so wrong? Did he not realize how much you wanted him? “N-no…wanted you this whole time,” You mutter, not caring about the consequences of your words this time around. You know exactly what you’re saying, what every word means. “I’ve wanted you since the second I met you.”

And that’s all it takes.

Without skipping a beat, Din turns off the lights in the hull. He grabs at your waist, twisting you so that your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel his erection pulsing against your heat. You roll your hips against him, moaning at the friction alone. He backs you into the wall, undoing his belt, lower pieces of armor, and pants before pulling down your leggings and panties with one quick swipe.

Suddenly, his breath fans against your ear, sending a chill down your spine. You’re so lost in the way his skin feels against yours that you must’ve missed the hiss of his helmet as he took it off. “Are you sure you want this? I can stop-,”

“No, please don’t stop Din,” You shamelessly groan, grinding against him. “Need to feel you inside me.” Your words are practically unintelligible, but Din knows what you’re trying to say. He knows what you need.

His fingers trace your hips, gliding over every inch of your body before finding their way down toward your cunt. He plunges into your folds, spreading your slick. You’re limp against him, your head falling back against the wall behind you. “So fucking wet for me, look at you.” His words alone could destroy you.

You roll your hips against his hand, hungry for more, whispering his name as his fingertips finally reach your clit. “Feels s’good,” You moan. He draws rapid circles around where you need him most, but it’s not enough. You needed all of him. “F-fuck me, Din,” You whine shamelessly.

“Relax for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your searingly hot cheeks, his fingertips rubbing rough strokes against your swollen heat. You’re already so close, but you know this isn’t over yet.

“Din, ‘need your-,”

The feeling of his cock spreading you open cuts you off. “S-shit,” Din stutters, bottoming out, filling you up. “So tight, so perfect.” He gives you a minute to adjust to the sheer size of him. You love the way he feels inside you, the way he’s splitting you open. You grind against him, and he immediately takes that as his sign to pull out and shove back into you. His thrusts become faster, deeper, his cock hitting exactly where you need him with every pump.

His fingers find your clit again, circling around the pulsing nerves deliciously. Nothing has ever felt this good, the way he touches you, the way he molds against you like things were always meant to be this way. You’re fully convinced it’s not the drug. You know it would’ve always felt like this…because it’s him.

He pumps in and out of you, hungrily, his lips crashing down against yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for permission to explore every inch of you. You part your mouth, happy to let him do whatever he wants.

“Being such a good girl,” Din mumbles, his warm, honeyed words echoing against the cold, metal walls of the ship. “Taking me so well. Feels so good.” You could listen to him for hours.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge. You’re shocked you’ve lasted this long in the first place, with his fingers toying at your clit, his cock pounding into you, the feeling of his skin brushing against yours in places you never thought you’d get to feel him. It’s inexplicable, and you want every moment of it engraved in your brain. You want more of this, for this to never end.

“D-Din,” His name hangs in the air as it slips off your lips. He loves the way it sounds, the way you sound, crumbling around him, falling apart for him. “I’m g-gonna-,” You hiccup, unable to finish.

“Wanna feel you come, pretty girl,” He whispers. “Let go for me.” Your walls flutter around him, tightening. “Yeah, just like that.” You can feel the tension snap, searing-hot whiteness flooding your vision as you come undone around him.

Din isn’t far behind, his hips rutting into you, his cock twitching deep inside as he finishes. He rubs your clit gently, rocking his hips against yours a few times before pulling out. You feel empty once he’s gone.

Your core is still pulsing. You needed more of him. It wasn’t enough.

“Wanna taste you,” Din whispers.

You don’t even have to ask. It wasn’t enough for him, either.

“Please,” You whine.

He sinks down to his knees, grabs onto your legs, pulling you down with him until your bare ass falls against the metal floor. He presses a chaste kiss against your lips before sinking down even farther. His hands grasp your calves, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath fan against your core. His tongue darts out, swiping against your inner thigh. You gasp softly at the sensation.

Din drags his tongue across your thigh and up to where you need him most. You moan as his tongue finally flicks your clit. It’s deplorable, lascivious, animalistic, but you don’t care. All you care about is him, the way he feels, what he’s doing to you.

“Tastes so fucking good.” His voice vibrates against your cunt, the feeling only adding to your overstimulation. Din brings his fingertips up, sliding against your folds, teasing at your entrance before plunging deep inside. “All this for me. All mine.”

Fuck he sounds so good. You’re already so close. “Din, I’m…” You trail off, unable to muster out another coherent thought. He speeds up, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his lips latching onto your clit, sucking roughly.

“That’s it, come for me again, sweet girl.” It’s a command this time, and your body involuntarily follows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers needily, stars blurring your vision as your head falls back onto the wall. You choke out his name, your chest heaving, your heart beating uncontrollably.

You should’ve told him how you felt ages ago.

You expect Din to stop, but he doesn’t. He continues to lap at you as if he’s starving.

“Din,” You whisper, your hands combing through his curls.

“Not done with you yet, perfect girl.” Kriffing hell.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, his head between your thighs, his tongue flicking against your core, his fingers pumping in and out of you. You’re not sure how many times you’ve come, but Maker does he feel good.

Eventually, his fingers pull out of you, and his lips meet yours again.

“So fucking beautiful.” He’s so gentle, so vulnerable like this. “Wanted you for so long, mesh’la.” He takes you in his arms, lifting you up as he stands. You’re not quite sure where he’s taking you – given that all the lights are off – but you don’t care. As long as he’s there with you, you’d go anywhere in the galaxy.

He sets you down against a mattress. His bunk. He gets in after you, wrapping a soft blanket around your body. His arms pull you into his bare chest, and you nestle further into him. You’re not sure when he took his armor off, or where his shirt went in all the mess, but his skin feels so good against yours.

“Din?” You call out in the darkness, your voice muffled a bit by his chest.

“Yeah, cyare?” He answers. His fingertips trace circles against your back. You shudder under his touch.

You take a deep breath. Now probably wasn’t the time to talk things out, but you wanted to, needed to. “That wasn’t just sex…to me.” You struggle to get the words out. You know you’re ruining the moment, probably eating away at whatever feelings Din has for you. But there’s so much you need to say. “I-I love you, Din.” The confession almost slips out on its own. You know it’s true, you’ve known for a very long time, but you’re not entirely sure where it came from. It was one of those uncontrollable things that happen because they’re meant to, because the universe gives no choices, no options.

He presses a kiss against your forehead. “I love you,” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “Loved you for so long, more than you’ll ever know.”

Your heart thumps against your rib cage, threatening to break free, to burst into a million different pieces. But you don’t care. It feels good to love him so shamelessly, and to be loved so shamelessly in return.

You fall asleep, with his arms around you, safely hidden away in his bunk, for the first time.

The first of many, countless, infinite times.

Fade into you Strange you never knew Fade into you I think it's strange you never knew

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 9 months

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Clan of Three - Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two: Clan of Three

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers and a heavy role to bear. Now reunited their journeys across the galaxy are just beginning to complete their final mission.

Word Count: 7.3K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: fighting/violence, massive injuries, some wholesome moments, sad as fuck father-daughter moments, massive angst, PTSD

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“We shall be rid of the Mandalorians once and for all,” Gideon turns around looking at his fellow warlords, “Long Live the Empire!”

“It is time to retake our home world….I need volunteers from both tribes.”

“I will go.” “I will go.” “I will go.” “I will go.”

“Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?”

“We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan. We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service.” They lower their heads slightly bringing a hand to rest over their hearts.

“I will only wear a dress on Naboo. I was told that it’s the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. And there are lakes and waterfalls and fields of flowers and planets as far as the eyes can see. So if you want me to wear a dress it has to be on Naboo.”

“With the uncomfortable shoes?” He asks and you smirk, “We’ll see.” The two of you stare at each other a silence falling over you two its two magnetics coming together. His hand covers your eyes the other pulling off his helmet then his lips meet yours.

“Look, I have no idea what that boy’s intentions are, but…I do know that he would be lucky to have you.” Din says and you lift your head up looking at the older man, “Really?” You ask and he nods and it grows silent once more before you speak up.

“Do you feel like everything is going right that it’s meant to go wrong?” You voice your fear for only him to know, “Every time we get close to winning something horrible goes wrong,” Your tone gets slightly frantic all the possibilities making you more nervous.

Din grabs your shoulders making you look at him, “I promised you I was never leaving you and I’m not. Ever.” He reassures and you nod before he pulls you into his arms just holding you there. His chin rests on the top of your head nothing is said between the two of you but you could tell he meant every single one of his words.

“I love you, dad…” You say and he freezes slightly before his arms squeeze you tighter to him, “Love you too, kid.”

“Those aren’t Mandalorians.” You call out as they immediately take fire, ambushing you all, “They’re Imperials! Take cover.” All the Mandalorians take cover firing at them.

“It’s an ambush!”

“Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place,” He says, and you are unmoving. Moff Gideon was back. He finds delight in seeing the horror and pure terror in your expression as the Mandalorians behind the blast door has no choice but to watch. “Thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next-generation Dark Trooper suit forged from beskar alloy,”

“Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise? Activate the interceptors and bombers.” He orders and Bo-Katan slams her fist against the glass.

“No!” the Klaxon alarm blares as the Interceptors and Bombers are activating, “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.”

“Kaz, get up. Kaz, kriffing get up and fight. Please stop! Please don’t do this…I’ll do anything please don’t I beg you!” You shout as he takes in your features one last time though tear-filled and bloody you still look beautiful in his eyes, “Kaz, please get up!”

“I love y-” The blade cleaves through his body as a scream of anguish rips through your throat.

“None of this would have occurred if you had accepted. He’s dead because of your actions, princess.” Gideon mocks you as you’re sent into a spiral sobs racking your body and hyperventilating from the shock that has taken over.

You didn’t deserve happiness…you would never love again. You had nothing left in you to love. Your happiness, your love, and yourself had died right alongside him held in his arms with dead promises to visit the far-off planets you dreamed of.

You were in a daze as the commandos practically dragged you through the halls, and you didn’t hear Din’s shouts, didn’t hear anything it was a blur until you were brought into a room and you’re dropped to your knees and chained to the floor. It repeated in your head like a broken melody, his face…his beautiful face draining of life.

“I love y-” Drain of tears as you felt no emotion, you didn’t feel sadness, loss, anger, sorrow, anything. It was empty. The doors before you open up but you barely acknowledge it glance up and seeing Gideon enter removing the beskar helmet and holding it to his side a malicious grin on his face.

“Where’s the fight, dear princess? That fire….that rage… not going to get your revenge?” He taunts standing before you and you gaze up at him, your eyes red and puffy your throat strained and dry from your sobs and screams.

“Just kill me already…I have no use for you.” Your voice is dead and flat and he chuckles his hand grabbing your chin your lifeless eyes are forced to look up at his wicked gaze, “Oh but that would make things so much easier for you wouldn’t it? Be reunited with your Mandalorian..” He rises dropping your chin and your head drops down.

“Get comfortable you’ll have front-row seats to witness the purge of your people and end the Mandalorians once and for all.” He says and your empty heart feels a twinge of worry for your family scattered across this base.

Din’s mind was running wild since the ambush seeing Moff Gideon had escaped the New Republic, seeing Kaz die and you getting taken away. Your screams and cries burned into his mind. You were fallen down a rabbit hole he barely got you out of the first time this worst. The two commandos force him down a hall and he shoves against one of them and then kicks his foot against the wall having them all stumble away from him. Breaking free from one of them flipping the other as he grabs the vibroblade cutting his bonds at his feet and quickly stabs the commando closest to him. Dodging the blaster fire that hits his beskar armor sudden heat against him from the flamethrower as he grabs their wrist slamming it to the ground. Pulling him into a chokehold and snapping his neck as a cable wraps around Din’s neck pulling him back he struggles as he sees the blaster in the commando's hand. It’s suddenly grabbed and destroyed,

“No. No. No. No. No.” Grogu presses the vocal button and Din stabs the commando with the blade the two hitting the ground. Gasping for air as Grogu sprays a bacta spray in his face as he tries waving him off coughing with his tied hands, “I'm okay. I'm okay…help me up,” Grogu pulls Din to his feet before holding his wrist out, “Will you cut me loose?’

Pressing the button gives a ‘yes’ and frees him from his restraints and he rubs his wrist, “Thank you for your help. Grogu, I'm going to need you to be brave for me, okay?” The small child babbles, “We can't keep running. If we don't take out Moff Gideon, this will never end. We have to find your sister as well. You with me?” A yes comes from IG-12 and the two make their way through the base to find and finish off Moff Gideon and save you.

In the cave system escaping from the following commandos, a transmission comes through Bo-Katan’s comms, “Bo-Katan, come in.” “Received. Where are you?” She sighs in relief glad to hear him alright.

“We're safe. I escaped. I've got the kid,” He says and her worry picks up slightly only hearing one kid with him, “And Y/n where is she?”

“I don’t know, I’m looking for her…I'm going after Moff Gideon. Do you have a location?” Din explains and Bo-Katan sighs leading her people through the caves, “No. We are under attack. I have to get the troops to safety.”

“Understood,” Din says moving through the halls followed by Grogu,

“Stay safe.” Bo-Katan responds their contact broken as the Captain calls out to them, “If we escape to the surface, I know where we can hole up.” He explains and they all take off to the surface. Bo-Katan worries for the people around her, her small family in Gideon’s base, and prays Woves gets to the ship before the Imperials do.

You hear the doors open behind you as Gideon stands before a large hologram map, “Sir, the fighters and bombers have launched,” A commando says, “Their capital ship will soon be destroyed.”

Gideon is silent before speaking up, “But the Mandalorian has escaped.” Your heavy head perks up slightly upon hearing the news. Din had escaped. He was moving through this base. The whirring of Gideon’s armor as the Commando looks at him waiting for orders,

“Shall we engage?” The helmet is put on Gideon and you hear his modulated “No, I'll take care of him myself.” A hoarse chuckle comes fills the room and the commando stiffens Gideon is silent as it starts soft until it’s the only thing he can hear seeing your head shake. You look up at him the blood mouth and chin dried the hollow look in your eyes having a spark of malice.

“You’re dead…he’s gonna kill you.” You rasp a huff of laughter in your tone and you hear the whirring of his armor as it curls into a fist, “You won’t even last a minut-” A beskar-infused punch across your face sends you on your side. Stars fill your vision as you try to calm the queasiness that fills you. Glancing back up at him seeing double him. Gideon looks seeing the indifference despite the split brow and the quickly forming bruise on your eye.

“Gar oyay cuyir jaon Gideon..” (Your life is over) You whisper venom in your voice and he uncurls his fist before stepping back, “Prepare her for the Mandalorian’s arrival.” Gideon orders and you see the doors before you slide open and out step three guards dressed in red armor each holding intimidating weapons. Gideon backs away as one of the guards pulls over a chair. Creating slack in the chain on the ground before shoving you to the seat. You don’t get time to adjust a fist knocking the wind out of you with a punch to the gut. You curl inward but your hair is grabbed pulling you back up as a fist bashes into your face blood spills to the floor.

“You’re….you’re all..going…to die..” You wheeze out your head hanging a river of red coming from your nose and mouth, your body crying out in pain but you weren’t going to let them see. You feel one of the guards behind you seize one of your arms and you feel the strain as it’s forced to bend unnaturally, “No…no…no no!” A snap fills the air producing a scream from you as your elbow snaps and you lean forward heaving in pain. Tears and blood blur your vision, fire runs through your body as the broken limb is let go of. Gideon turns away leaving the room the sounds of your screams and begging as the torture begins rings through his head. You were going to be a great present for your Mandalorian.

Din moves through the halls skillfully followed by IG-12 controlled by Grogu, “R5. Come in, R5,” Din calls through his comms and a beeping response comes through from the surface, “I need you, buddy. You're gonna have to scomp into the base and get me the location of Moff Gideon's command center.” Hesitant beeping makes Din sigh as he peeks around a corner, “I'm sorry, I don't speak Binary. I'm counting on you.” Moving throughout the base avoiding commandos he calls back out to the droid, “R5, how are those schematics coming?” A schematic of the base appears, “Got it. Good job, buddy. That's the command center. The communications log says that's where he operates from. That's where we're goin'.” Din points at the blinking dot representing the command center on the hologram map.

“Ready?” He looks over at Grogu who coos, “Stay close. Let's go.” With only his skills Din moves through the halls before reaching the hall leading to the command center with barrier shields stopping any from entering, “The command center is down there. I don't have any weapons so this might get messy. R5. There are some barrier shields. I'm gonna need you to deactivate them one at a time.” The droid beeps understanding his assignment, “On my command. Got it?”

Din peeks around the corner seeing the multiple rows of guards he would have to take one, “Deactivate the first shield.” The red shield comes and Din rushes forward throwing a swing at the guard closest to him sending him to the ground and kicking his leg out hitting the other one. Grabbing the guard getting up barely dodging a blaster fire that kills the one in front of him. Spinning him to deflect the attack with the dead guard’s shield he pulls the knife from his belt while throwing it. It lodges into the other's neck and Din rushes forward to grab the blaster but the guard falls back into a drop disappearing.

“R5, next shield.” Din calls out as the second barrier opens controlled by the droid his two enemies armed with electro-riot batons and shields. Rushing forward kneeing on in the face sending him crashing into the barrier and quickly deflecting the attack from the guard behind him bringing him to the ground. Grabbing the baton jamming into the space between armor from the guard in front of him then spin kicks the other off the ledge. Picking up the shield now with a weapon and defense steps forward to the two awaiting guards behind the shield.

“R5, next shield.”

Slamming the shield against one guard against their blaster fire, jamming the electric baton into the knee of one guard brings him down shielding himself. Attacking his chest as the guard grunts hitting the ground and Din stabs the baton in his helmet electrocuting the guard to death. Grabbing the blaster firing at the guard and getting to his feet, the two fire and shield against one another, “R5, next shield,” Din calls out firing but no response comes through, “R5, next shield! R5!” Din yells into his comm blocking another blow as the smoke from the blasters fills the area.

“R5, next shield.” The last barrier opens and slides through the smoke tripping one of the guards grabbing the blaster. Spinning around to stand firing at the guard that fires but it hits Din’s beskar armor. Killing the guard before moving towards the unarmed one trying to rise up but he quickly pulls the trigger. The air is fresh with gun residue the adrenaline in the bounty hunter’s blood fading with the trail of bodies. Grogu peeks around the corner seeing the aftermath and Din motions him to come over. “R5, good job, buddy.” Din compliments the droid as he hears beeps coming from the droid.

Opening the door reveals a long hallway covered in tanks that line the walls. Din and Grogu slowly creep through the halls before Din holds his hand out stopping the child, “Wait here.” He moves to a control table trying to figure out the information. He hears a whimper from the child as he looks frightened by the clones, “That's not Gideon. Those are his clones.” The small child looks at the tank holding a sleeping clone of his former captor. Its eyes snap open producing a cry as Grogu stumbles back while handling the droid. Din presses certain buttons tampering with the controls as the console begins beeping and powering down,

“Let's go.” The two rush escaping the room as an alarm goes off the tanks exploding water spilling out as the doors close behind them. Din turns away from the doors and Grogu and the air leaves Din’s body as his legs become stone. The room lay bare no Gideon in sight but a chair and a familiar figure hunched over blood surrounding the person. His body rushes forward whipping around the chair and his heart drops but also rage fills his body as he stares at the young girl. You were covered in blood, your injuries he couldn’t tell where they started or where they ended. One of your arms hung limply at your side still restrained but he saw the odd angle and cringed. His hands shake slightly as he cups your face and you seem to react to the touch as you murmur your eyes blinking up trying to see, one of your eyes was quickly turning black and blue.

“Kaz…” Your voice is hoarse and weak and his chest burns at the thought in your state of pain and exhaustion you thought he was someone who was long gone.

“Kid…it’s me,” He tries to keep his voice calm pushing back the blood-soaked hair away from you, “I’m gonna get you out of here.” A sudden blaster fire barely misses you both and Din is forced to pull away both him and Grogu hide behind some walls. The mechanical footsteps clank against the ground as Din holds the blaster between his hands.

“My clones were finally going to be perfect,” Gideon’s rage-filled voice surrounds the room, “The best parts of me but improved by adding the one thing I never had. The Force. I was isolating the potential to wield the Force, and incorporating it into an unstoppable army. And you smothered them before they could draw their first breath” He hisses and Din could feel the fury coming from him. A hitch of breath as a mechanical whirring fills the air and a choked gasp fills the air.

“So I’ll take the breath from who you care for,” Gideon growls tightening his strong grip around your throat. Din whips around firing at Gideon but the blaster bolts bounce off his beskar armor does make Gideon release you your head dropping as Gideon fires a missile at Din. Dodging the attack he charges at him with his jetpack the two being pushed into the hangar entering combat. Gideon hurls Din aside as he collides with a large crate quickly receiving beskar-fueled punches in the gut and the face rattling the bounty hunter. Grabbing the Mandalorian by the chestplate hurling off to the floor before launching another attack on him. Din rolls out of the way right as Gideon slams a fist into the ground denting the metal floors.

The sounds of battle from the hangar rage on and in the air as Mandalorians fight against the imperials for their homeworld. Everything was painful just breathing hurt, you wanted it to all fade away praying it would all just stop. A metal hand gently pulls up your face and you felt a cooling sensation across your face as you slowly force your eyes to open seeing the arm of a droid and the small green child. Grogu coos as the healing medicine sprays across your face and he pulls away and you wince feeling something jab into your leg a small burning sensation.

“Grogu…” You whisper and you hear the ‘yes’ come from the child as it moves away from you and you hear the whirring sound and sparks coming off you. Whatever healing spray had made your face grow numb but whatever was put into your leg, you felt your heart rate beating faster and the surge of energy in your limbs. You hear a crack of metal and something falling off as you slump forward falling off the chair unable to hold or catch yourself. You hit the ground with a groan and you hear the loud cry from Din as you see through blurry vision him on the ground the same red armorer guards around him. You hear footsteps pass by you as your heartbeat becomes the only thing you can hear as you force yourself onto your back.

Din groans in pain as the blade is brought deeper into his armor when a voice comes through, “No, no, no.” Din sees Grogu’s angry expression as he slams his fist on the voice button. The three Praetorian Guards pull away now a new target as they force the child back into the command center.

“No!” Din cries out the fear of seeing another one of his children hurt as he scrambles to his feet. A missile hits him directly at his back sending him to the ground but he back on his feet with the urgency to save them when a fibercord whip wraps around his neck dragging him right back to Gideon as the doors close putting the Imperial Guards with both his defenseless children.

You hear the fighting that had entered the room and the cries coming from Grogu as you see flashes of fighting but too weak to stand up. Get up. They are going to kill him if you don’t fight. He’s going to die because of you. You roll over to your side a loud groan coming from you drawing the attention of one of the guards as they come over to you. Your limbs shake with pain as you push yourself with one arm up to be on your hands and knees. A sharp kick to your ribs knocks you back down with a cry as you gasp for air. Don’t stop…stand up. Pushing yourself a strained grunt comes as you return to your knees another kick knocks you back down landing on your back as you try to get air. You can’t do it…you’re too weak.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper tears falling into your hair as the guard stands above you the spear in his grasp.

“Get up…” A voice calls out a whisper the feeling of home flooding your veins, “Come on mesh’la you have to fight.” His voice is like a medicine that heals all wounds. You feel the gentle touch on your skin a caress down your face as he leans down a kiss placed on your forehead. You see the guard raise up his spear to deliver the killing blow it all happening in slow motion.

“Get up.”

The weapon swings down stopping just before your chest a mere hair away when a force stops him. The guard tries pushing down more but is unable to move his body frozen in place. A choking fills the air as he grabs his neck releasing the staff before a large crack fills the air. Din enters the command center having left Bo-Katan to fight against Gideon to see one of the guards collapse to the ground and you laying on the ground beside the body. The others are about to attack Grogu with Din fires his blaster at one of them. The two quickly dispose of the guards together with Din’s combat and Grogu’s force abilities. Din checks over the child when he hears a groan coming from the other side of the room. His head snaps over seeing you on your feet though shakily and Din rushes over his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you up.

“Kid! I’m sorry…maker this is all my fault..” He whispers as you barely register his words looking towards the hangar and seeing Bo-Katan and Gideon fighting. “You stay here. I’ll be back.” You groan in protest before he forces you back to the ground against a wall to sit.

“Gideon…he has to-” “I know…I know you can’t be moving alright.” He says before your left in that room once again but the second he’s gone your hand is clawing at the wall to bring yourself to your feet. This was your fight just as much as theirs and you were going to make sure Gideon was dead.

Bo-Katan spins the Darksaber disarming the electrostaff from Gideon’s grasp but he sends a mighty punch sending her sliding across the ground. Bo-Katan pushes herself to her feet as Gideon pulls off a weapon from his belt and a howl fills the air as a brilliant orange glow reflects on the black beskar. “Hand over the Darksaber and I will give you a warrior's death.” The warlord demands. Rushing towards him with a yell sabers crash against one another as Bo-Katan launches a renewed attack striking him in spots but it has no effect on the beskar armor. However, Gideon is an indomitable force grabbing Bo-Katan’s hand midswing the two holding the Darksaber. With a crush from his gauntlet, he destroys the ancient weapon bringing the female to her knees. The broken hilt lies on the ground as he rips her helmet off kicking Bo-Katan to the ground as she slides toward the edge.

“The Darksaber is gone. You've lost everything,” Stalking towards her taunting the failed Mandalorian, “Mandalorians are weak once they lose their trinkets.”

Bo-Katan rises to her knees a smirk on her face, “Mandalorians are stronger together.” A sudden blaster bolt strikes Gideon from behind and he quickly turns seeing the Mandalorian firing at him. Exchanging fire as Gideon is drawn towards the edge blocking the attacks with the saber. Firing from his wrist Gideon strikes down Din multiple times though shielded by the beskar still stuns him. Bo-Katan slides protecting him using her shield. The hangar shakes sparks flying in the air as the hurtling imperial cruiser descends on the base. Bo-Katan rushes forward with a warrior cry as Gideon raises the saber when he’s thrown back and smacks into the ground. The deactivated saber is released from his hand and Gideon tries to grab it when it’s pulled past him into a person’s grasp. Gideon looks towards where the weapon went the true fear that runs through him. Blood soaks her dirty clothes the broken arm limp at her side, how she was standing after the beating she received he wouldn’t know, in her working hand, the deadly weapon ignites producing a brilliant orange glow.

Gideon raises his blaster firing it at you but with quick reflexes, they deflect hitting him back as he stumbles back towards the edge. You keep trudging forward blocking his attacks as he grows closer and closer to the ledge. He rushes forward to attack you when a blade goes straight through the gap in his chest plate and stomach. A hitch in his breath as the blade digs deep staring into your gaze the haunting look in your eyes.

“This is the non-diplomatic option.” You grunt ripping the saber out as debris rains down the ship crashing into the hangar. Arms wrap around you pulling you to the ground as you are shielded from the inferno hearing Gideon’s screams. You expected the heat from the flames to incinerate you opening your eyes and seeing the barrier all around you the flames and destruction not touching you. Din and Bo-Katan lower their arms from shielding themselves as the three of you look at the small child before you protecting you all. Lowering the Force bubble the flames go from around you as Grogu plops down exhausted from the use as the three of you stand up viewing the destruction. The base is in shambles the flames and smoke from the attack, your gaze moves to where Gideon stands nothing there burnt to ashes. It was a lightweight feeling knowing he was truly dead the battle finally over. With so many lost and many that never saw the end of the journey there were necessary but heartbreaking so you could win.

A cave once left abandoned the light from natural fluorescents the torches empty now lit. The banging of drums fills the tunnels only growing louder reaching the mouth of the cave. Banners of clan signets as clan heads line the path a pathway of torches leading to the steps of water. “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors..” The Armorer speaks to the small boy a shallow bowl in her grasp, “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors..”

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand'alor…” "That I shall walk the Way of the Mand'alor…”

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.” The crowd watches as the boy recites the creed. It had been months since his first try at joining the Creed and now he stands in the water speaking those words heavy in his heart with the loss of his father, “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

The Armorer kneels down scooping up some of the living waters pouring on the beskar helmet as he rises to stand, “This is the Way.”

Ragnar nods repeating the words, “This is the Way.” The crowd of Mandalorians from the Children of the Watch repeat the words. Ragnar steps away rejoining his clan as a Mandalorian in silver beskar armor holding a small infant reaches the steps. Placing the child on the step before the water and the man entering the water slightly.

“Grogu is my apprentice.” The once-bounty hunter gestures to the small child, “He is no longer a foundling. Add him to the Song.”

“He is too young to speak so he is too young to take the Creed.” The Armorer shakes her head as the child babbles proving her point, “He must remain a foundling.”

Din is silent looking at the child that looks sad at the news, “If his parent gave permission, couldn't he then become a Mandalorian apprentice?” The Armorer is silent before nodding, “Yes, but his parents are far from here…if they are even alive.” Her words hinted at some underlying solution. The man looks at the child before speaking,

“Then I will adopt him as my own.” The small child looks up in surprise at the news and the Armorer accepts this decision, “This is the Way.” She says and the man repeats the words.

The female Mandalorian turns to face the crowd of Mandalorians, “Let it be written in Song that Din Djarin is accepting this foundling as his son,” She turns looking at the child now adopted by the man, “You are now Din Grogu, Mandalorian apprentice.”

“This is the Way.” The Mandalorians chant and she holds her hand up silencing them, “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentice on his journeys, just as your teacher did for you.” The Armorer explains and Din nods, “This is the Way.”

The child now legally under the watch of Din babbles cheerfully and in the depths of the waters before them, a creature stirs almost sensing the change. Din grabs Grogu bidding farewell to the Armorer and other members of the tribe. From the corner of his eye, Din sees the flutter of a cloak as they disappear from the living waters. A lone girl viewing the spectacle many troubling thoughts running through her.

Hidden in the shadows watching as the Armorer and Bo-Katan stand before the Great Forge with the Mandalorians from both fractions watching their leader. The Armorer produces a torch passing it to the woman who moves holding it over the forge. The flame ignites the gas the Forge of their people relit after years of remaining dormant. The clanking of the vambraces creates a synchronized rhythm as Woves starts a chant, “For Mandalore!” “For Mandalore!” “For Mandalore!” The fractions brought together their planet back with the rightful owners as they chanted for their victory but also for those they had lost and their sacrifice would not be in vain. Bo-Katan looks over the crowd a wide smile on her face seeing her people together once again but she catches the gaze of a lone figure not in Mandalorian armor. The cloak and mask hid the still healing injuries but she could see the tired eyes that watch the excitement of the people around her but she lacks any. Bo-Katan could see the defeat in them none of this was a victory in their eyes too much loss and the pain was too great to think of the positive. Their eyes meet and she could tell the look in their eyes and what it meant. No words needed to be spoken as the figure disappears in the crowd that she couldn’t keep up. Bo-Katan tries to keep a smile for her people but it cracks just slightly with the information she knew.

Returned to Nevarro where this whole journey began Greef claps his hand on Din's shoulder, “The people of Nevarro appreciate all you've done, Mando.” Pulling a small chip and holding it out for him, “I want to give you this deed to a cabin just outside of town where you can lay low with your new family if you choose so. Between adventures.”

Din accepts this gracious gift nodding in thanks, “Thank you.” Greef chuckles kneeling down to the small child on the steps, “And that goes for you too, Din Grogu.” Greef stands up noticing the third person apart of their group missing, “And where is the other one? I was certain she would stay with you all unless she’s with that Mandalorian of hers. I certainly like him as a partner.”

Din sighs shaking his head, “She’s here just…going through a lot. I’m giving her some space.” Din looks around the city. This was their new home to reside in while Din works as a personal contractor for the New Republic. “The boy…Kaz, he didn’t make it.”

Greef’s expression drops, “My condolences…well be sure to send her my apologizes for her loss.” The air was tense and it seemed to remain that when they had left Mandalore, even going to the Adelphi base, to even here. He was giving you the time you needed, you were still healing from your injuries refusing any medicine that would require you to be unconscious. With no choice but to respect your decision giving you the best he could get but just time would heal all wounds. While the physical wounds may leave scars that would soon fade the ones on your mind and heart would never.

“And I have a gift for you as well.” Din breaks the tension and appears from the crowd the newly reconstructed IG-11, “Greetings, citizens. I am IG-11, your new Marshal. Your new Marshal of Nevarro.” The crowd cheers as their new Marshal greets them all.

“I am here to serve and protect the citizenry. I am at your disposal and serve at your pleasure.” Greef laughs seeing the familiar droid, “There we go.”

Days on Nevarro settled into your new home a place for Din to relax for now before the New Republic called for him. During these times spent making the cabin home, Grogu enters school and gets to grow up. It all seemed well in this home the other missing piece was yourself. Din felt like you were a ghost, your injuries had healed up but you were hesitant with this place he had reassured multiple times was yours. A room that was strictly yours, getting you new clothing, having home-cooked meals, and even trying to get you to go out into the city and have fun and be young again. It was the opposite though he felt like he was pulling teeth and you would only do these to soothe his worries but he still saw the hollowness in your expression, the mask you put up, and weak smiles. He saw your body thin from the lack of food, rushing into your room hearing your screams at night from the memories that plagued you, the dark circles under your eyes from forcing yourself to stay awake to avoid being trapped inside your mind. Give her time he kept telling himself but time wasn’t helping and it all seemed to build up until the thinning string finally snapped.

The sun was beginning to set and Grogu was playing with the small ball of his in the living room as Din finished up dinner placing it off to the side to cool off. “Come on kid,” Coming over scooping his son up, “Let’s get your sister.” Grogu babbles still playing with the ball as they move to the front of the house where a small pond lies. Din had set up a small chair beside the door that he normally kicks back and watches Grogu play. By the pond resting against a tree right by the water there you sit knees tucked under your chin, your focus on the rippling water as frogs and small fishes swim around.

“Kid!” He calls out and you slowly look away meeting his gaze as he stands by the threshold of the house, “Dinner come.” He says and he sees the hesitation on your face as you turn looking back at the water. Din sighs coming towards the tree to get you to come his pace slows to a stop when he notices a bag beside you that looks fully packed.

“Kid…” He calls out hesitant about where this conversation could possibly be going. You were dressed in the clothes that you hadn’t worn since the battle on Mandalore, the cloak wraps around you as you continue staring at the waters. Din waits for the words he fears seeing the expression on your face the pieces coming together.

“I can’t stay here.”

And the air goes thin as his fear becomes a reality. His grip tightens on Grogu slightly as he looks down on you as you start up again, “I can’t just live here happy while he is seen as nothing but a sacrifice for that planet.” Din knew who you were talking about as your voice tighten up and you look up blinking away those tears.

“I know you’re hurting you just need time…I know it hurts now-” Din tries reassuring you but when you looked at him he felt his chest twist as he stops speaking. You had already made your decision and it was just more painful than you saying the words.

“I don’t sleep. I don’t eat. I’m…I’m not like you or the kid…I don’t know what to do anymore…I tried and I tried so damn hard. But I can’t close my eyes without seeing him…” You hold back a cry as you swipe at your sniffling nose, “I’m not telling you to give up this place you deserve a home to settle and be happy but I…I have lost everything all my life…everyone I have loved has either died or left me. Everyone except for you…” You say looking at Din and you feel the anguish coming from him and the glassy look in Gorgu’s eyes.

“I’m so scared of being alone and I don’t want to lose you but sitting here I’m reminded about how I’ve failed all of them.” You say with a shaky breath before looking away from him whispering your fear. “How I might fail you.” It’s a painful silence that is filled with distress and sorrow as Din is told the troubles you’ve been dealing with all this time, even before Mandalore, since your childhood.

“Please don’t try to stop me.” You beg him and it’s so quiet you thought he left but when you look up at him he’s still there. This would have to be the hardest thing to go through and experience. You were so used to people leaving you or the small chance at happiness…love being ripped away from you. It was worst being the one to leave when you knew how much they cared for you…loved you.

“Can…” His voice cracks slightly, “Can you at least stay for dinner?” He speaks in a mere whisper and you hear the sadness in his voice. If he wasn’t wearing that helmet you would see the tears streaming down his face. The tears you tried keeping in start sliding down your face as you hold a fist to your mouth holding back choked sobs. Taking a shaky inhale as your throat is thick with tears,

“If I stay I’ll never leave…” This breaks both of you as you swipe at your tears standing up, “i’m sorry..” Grabbing the pack and slinging it over your shoulder not before grabbing an item from it and holding it out to him in his freehand that isn’t holding Grogu grabs the small object seeing the cloaked binary beacon.

“If you ever need me…no matter where in the galaxy,” You clear your throat pulling up your sleeve and showing the matching one of your wrist, “I’ll find you.” It’s a promise that while you may be lightyears and planets apart you would always find your way home. Back to him… Din curls his hand around the object as he looks at you...his daughter. It’s silent as you step forward rubbing your fingers between Grogu’s ear as he gives a coo and you lean forward pressing a kiss on his forehead. Looking up at the beskar helmet that does nothing to hide his emotion and he raises a hand swiping away the stray tears before pulling you into his chest. You feel the shake of his chest as he cries and you bit your lip to stop yourself from breaking. Held in his arms until you had no choice but to pull away for your sake if not you would never leave.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…ad” (I love you…daughter)

He memorizes everything about you, from your hair to your nose, your mouth, the crease between your eyebrows, the weariness in your tear-filled eyes, every detail. For a moment he was back on Arvala-7 looking down at the bright-eyed girl as she held his knife demanding answers. How times had changed? You weren’t a quarry or some cargo, you were his daughter from the beginning even if he didn’t realize it. Though blood is not shared you were his daughter and he was your father and nothing would change it.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…buir” (I love you…dad)

The words repeated back before you turn away and walk towards the ship. Tears flow like rivers down your face as you grow further and further from Din and Grogu. You hear the small cry from Grogu that makes you bite your lip to hold back your sobs as you reach your X-Wing. You throw the bag into the cargo compartment as R4 beeps sadly from his droid port. Pulling yourself onto the wing entering the cockpit as the canopy closes and you start up the ship. Your eyes betray you glancing at Din who still stands by the pond holding his son as he watches you. Your gaze holds for a second before you are the one that breaks contact as the ship powers up and dust kicks up as the ship begins to take off.

Din stands there watching the ship depart staring until you are a dot in the sky and even after you’re long gone probably in hyperspace he stands there. It wasn’t until Grogu made a noise of sadness but also needed to be fed that he looks away. His limbs are shaky but filled with carbonite as he forces himself to enter the home not before looking at the beacon in his hand that beeps showing the connection between the two were still active. Din turns back looking up at the sky and the large galaxy that lies before himself. He wasn’t sure how long it would be until he sees you again but you three would be reunited again.

As a Clan of Three.

A/N: It's over. OH MY GOD! I started writing this series in January of 2021 and it is now August of 2023. I'm extremely grateful to everyone who has read this series and enjoyed it. I'm so proud of all the time and work put into it and the plenty of tears shed writing this. Literally, this series wouldn't exist without the support of you guys and the amazing story that is The Mandalorian. You all are incredible and thank you so much for reading and sticking for the ride.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three #clan of three series #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din x reader #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader

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moon-sang · 2 years

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ᴋʟᴜᴛᴢ ~ 𝔻𝕚𝕟 𝔻𝕛𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

(gif does not belong to me)

REQUEST: Reader goes to grab food and essentials with grogu while mando is out. Reader accidentally trips and scraped her knees (deep wound of some sort) and in the midst breaks grogu’s fall. Reader is hesitant to tell mando what happened but quickly realizes soon after (reader probably showing signs of hurt, limping etc). Fluff and comfort.

SUMMARY: You had always been a klutz... but this one fall may just change the relationship you have with Din.

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, Soft!Din, fem!reader, description of wound, mature language, pls tell me if I miss anything!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s not your fault.

It’s not your fault you were born such a klutz.

It’s not your fault you ran out of food on the Crest.

It’s not your fault you had to go out and get more supplies, whilst Din was on a hunt.

It’s not your fault a stone got caught in between your feet.

It’s not your fault you fell, and took most of the impact to protect Grogu.

......Except... it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The burning hot air of Nevarro attacked the new scrape on your knee, pulling a hiss out of you. Kriffing rock, getting in the way of your walking! The child cooed in your arms as you limped your way over to the Crest. You didn’t even want to look at it. You could just feel how deep the wound was, you knew you would probably faint if you actually looked at it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what seemed to be forever, you finally made it to the Crest. The familiar ship practically called you to it.

“Now listen buddy.” You start. “I don’t want a peep out of you, we keep this a secret from Mando, yeah?!” All you get as a reply is a bunch of gurgles. A sigh makes it’s way to your face as you continue to hobble over to the hatch of the Crest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The inviting cool air of the Crest relieved some of the stinging on your knee, but not nearly enough. You groan in pain, and ghost your fingers over the sensitive skin. You should probably patch it up before Din get’s back.

Your fingers curl around the handle to a drawer, and pull it open. Finally something to patch your wou-.... Where are the medkits? FUCK! You had to buy some of those as well! You forgot them when you tripped! You bang your head on the cold chrome coloured wall of the Crest. “This is just great” You practically yell. With a frustrated groan you flop onto your ‘bed.’

“Hey kid, you wouldn’t mind going to the markets for me would ya?” you joke, looking at the confused gremlin. A chuckle leaves your lips when he frantically shakes his head. “Didn’t think so.” you whisper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later Din arrived. The bounty was knocked out cold and most likely going to be put in carbonite. “Hey.” You greet, attempting to hide your wince and the pain in your voice. You get a nod in return, from the tin can. “How was the kid, cause any trouble?” You shake your head gently. “No, he was good for once.” he nods and turns to the kid, gurgling on the floor. “And what about Y/n? Did she hit her head, stub her toe, or trip anywhere?” He asks him. “Ha.Ha. Very funny.” You mock. Din was very familiar with your clumsiness by now. He’s seen it day after day, and the worst part about it is.... he finds it amusing. He chuckles at his own joke and makes his way to the cockpit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until much later Din called you to the cockpit. It was easy to say ‘one sec’ or ‘yea! I’m coming’ but it was easier said than done. Every step to the ladder felt like you were pulling weights tied to your feet.

When you finally managed to get a hold of the ladder, it was like staring up at mount Everest. It looked so tall, how were you gonna make it up there, with your bad knee? “Y/n? You coming?” Din yells from the cockpit. “Yeah!” You yell back. You could do this. With a huff you step on one of the rungs of the ladder. The pressure on your bad leg pulled a hiss out of you, but you kept going. Step, and pull up, repeat, step and pull up, repeat. That’s all you needed to do. Why did it feel so hard? Finally, after what seemed to be forever, you made it to the cockpit. And why were you panting from climbing a kriffing ladder?

“What’s up?” you grit out. “The kids been stressing out and crying, I don’t know what’s wrong with him, could you take h-” Din cuts himself off when he turns his seat to look at you. You cock your head at him in confusion. “You want me to take him?” You finish for him. “No.” he replies bluntly, placing the kid on the floor and standing up. “Din...what’s.. going on? What’s wrong?” You hesitantly ask. “You tell me.” came his modulated reply. “What?” You practically whisper. “Do you know how pale you look? Kriffing hell you’re even sweating!” He stresses. Your breath hitches. Was the.. wound.. infected? Kriff it did take a few hours for Din to get back, you were bleeding out for quite some time. Tears well in your eyes but you hold them back. Things were getting overwhelming for you, and..... was Din talking? Whatever he was saying, you couldn’t hear, things were muffled. Your head pounded and a searing hot pain went through your leg before your vision went completely black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes next, you were nested in Din’s bunk. You knew straight away because everything in there smelt like him. Beautiful. “Din?” You slur out, eyes closing again. “Shh, I’m here.” He hushes soothingly. You attempt to sit up, but you find Din gently, but firmly, pushing you back down. “No. Lay down. You need rest.” He orders. You groan in response. “My knee, woun-” You’re cut of by Din. “I dealt with it.” he whispers. You nod and a tense silence spills over the two of you. Finally, he talks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He questions, a tiny amount of anger laced in his voice. “Didn’t want to.. distract you from the...kid. You respond, voice coaxed in sleepiness. Din sighs and slumps next to you on the bed, cradling your cheek in his bare hot hand. “How.. did you stitch...wound? We have.... no...medkits.” You slur yet again. “I had some spare in my drawer, you should’ve told me mesh’la.” He soothingly whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Mm sorry” you whisper. He places a gentle kiss of your forehead, and quickly pulls his helmet back down. “Just tell me next time ok, You scared the kriffing shit out of me.” He chuckles. You giggle with him. “Ok.”

Din pulls you closer to him and wraps and arm around you. You nuzzled into his warm chest... and just stayed like that for a moment, because... it was a strange routine the two of you had. Then there’s something crawling onto you. At first you think it’s a giant spider... but then.. an all too familiar cooing sound rings through the cot. You chuckle along with Din. “No buddy, we didn’t forget you, come on in.” You whisper as you and Din make a small space for him in between the two of you. Gleefully he jumps in, and you all snuggle in with each other.

~ I hope you liked it!

#Din Djarin x reader #Mando x reader #Din x reader #Fluff #Din Djarin fluff #Mando fluff #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x reader #Mando x you #Din x you #Din Djarin x you #Mandalorian x you #Grogu #baby yoda #Mando x y/n #Din x y/n #Din Djarin x y/n #Mandalorian x y/n

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ariundercovers · 11 months

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Withholding (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary: Din has been holding something back from you. He finally willingly gives it.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (one female gender descriptor used @ the end)

Word count: ~2k

Warnings: fluff, marshmallows, and feely good feelings. A flagon of angst at the very beginning if you squint with some reading glasses on.

A/n: This is very dialogue heavy - not my usual style of writing! It's super plotty for being a fluffy fic so, idk. we'll just try it out. As always - let me know what you think!

It was just about a week since the three of you settled in the small cabin on Nevarro. You and Din were happily seated outside under the small awning, Grogu off playing with the other school-aged students for the time being. There was a comfortable silence between you for some time when Din finally broke it unceremoniously.

“I commed Bo Katan yesterday.”

You turn to look at him, surprised. “Oh? And?”

“She asked me if I had taken you as my riduur yet, and then she told me I was a kriffing moron. Her words.” You’re surprised at the response, assuming it would have been something regarding Mandalore, but then you chuckle.

“Sounds about right.”

He nods his head almost imperceptively. “She made me realize many things. I owe you a lot.”

You turn fully to him, eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “What? No, you don’t owe me anything.”

He sits up a little straighter and it feels like his visor is burrowing into your very soul with the intensity he is giving off. “I do though. I owe you much. I know you were disappointed when I took Grogu as my own in the mines, in front of all the other Mandalorians, but I did not offer the same to you. It wasn’t fair.”

“No, no… It’s okay. I understand. I know I’m not Mandalorian, and, well, honestly I’m just happy with whatever you can give me. I don’t need more.”

He sighs, always overwhelmed by the selflessness you exhibit to a fault, especially when it comes to him and the kid.

“But it’s not okay. I have been withholding things from you, and that’s not right. You have given me everything, you have shared all of yourself with me, but I have not offered you the same. I can give you more than this.”

He pauses briefly before continuing. “It never felt like the right time. I’ve had nothing to offer you - no home, no stability. Just running into the abyss and a wizard of a tiny green child.”

You laugh at his description of your lives over the past few years. “I love running into the abyss with you. And I love your tiny green child.”

He leans into you abruptly. “Ours, cyare. Our tiny green child.”

You hum in response. You know he’s right, even if it’s hard to admit to yourself. “I don’t need anything from you, Din. Just you. I don’t need a home, or a ship. I don’t need stability. I just need you and Grogu. I’ll run into the abyss for the rest of my life if it means I get to have the two of you.”

He leans back in the chair a little bit, looking out over the fields that sprawl in front of your little home. “I know that now. But I wanted so badly to be able to provide for you in some way. I was starting to think the Crest was enough of a home for us, but just as I was coming to terms with that, Gideon showed up and we lost the kid. I needed to have something for you. You deserve something. You are an amazing mother, and an even better partner. You are… everything to me. You are the planets, the suns, and all the stars in my galaxy.”

“Din…” You can feel yourself blushing as he overwhelms you with compliments. It’s too much to wrap your brain around.

“I mean it. We finally have a moment here - a small slice of normal. Something… real, maybe even permanent. But it’s still not complete because I have one thing more I need to offer you, to let you choose.”

You turn your head toward him, brows scrunching in confusion. You’re curious, unsure exactly where he’s going with it.

“Cyar’ika, I want nothing more than to have you as my riduur, my kin. You are already part of my clan but I want you to be mine and I yours, completely. I… would you make a riduurok with me? Be my riduur?”

You knew what a riduur was - at least a little bit. The first time you had met her, Bo-Katan mistakenly assumed you already made a riduurok. She explained it to you a bit then. The first time you met Paz, he huffed about letting an aruetii in - that Din needed to be a real Mandalorian and choose his riduur already.

“I’ve been wondering if you would ever ask. I was starting to think you couldn’t ask me… Or wouldn’t, maybe.” Your eyes dart down to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands.

“I know. I never should have made you wait this long.”

You look up to him, meeting his visor. “Surely you must know I would have said yes, right? If you had asked me before.”

He nods back at you. “I know. This wasn’t about you, it was all me. And I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you many cycles ago.”

You smile softly and pull on of his hands into your lap, craving the friction of his skin against yours. “How does it work? Is there a ceremony?”

You slowly unlatch the buckle of his glove, loosening each finger. “No. It’s always done in private. You exchange a set of vows in Mando’a.”

You pause, to look at him with a concerned expression. “I’m gonna fuck them up.”

He puffs out a chuckle and turns his hand over so you have easy access to the alm. “Doesn’t matter. It’s about the intention behind them.”

You nod your head in agreement, pulling his glove the rest of the way off and tucking it off to the side. “Will you let me? Let me take you as my riduur?”

You revel in the feeling of his bare skin upon your own as you contemplate how you’ll answer - of course you know the answer you’ll give him already, but you have to figure out how you’ll actually say it. You lace your fingers in his own. “Yes, Din. Of course, I will.”

He stares, unmoving.

“Just like that, you say yes to marrying a person you’ve never even seen before?”

You sigh, immediately understanding where this line of questioning was going. Din was always a self-deprecating soul - someone who didn’t understand how he could deserve, or earn, happiness in his life. Someone who saw himself as a means to an end more than as anything else.

“Din… I’ve seen enough of you to know you’re human. That’s good enough for me. I don’t need to see you to know I love you.”

His helmet droops, looking away. “You’ve never wondered?”

You shake your head no. “Not really. I try not to let myself. I respect you and your Creed far too much to allow my thoughts to go down that road.”

“What if I’m ugly? Beneath all the beskar?”

You tilt your head to the side and smile genuinely at him. There’s that self-deprecation creeping in again. “A man as good as you could never be. I see you, Din Djarin, through all the beskar. And Din Djarin the man - not Din Djarin the Mandalorian - is a kind and compassionate soul. He’s an honorable and righteous man, a great father, and a very worthy romantic partner. You could never be ugly to me, because that is how I see you, helmet or not.”

He doesn’t move, only speaks lowly, nearly a whisper.“What if I’m… disfigured? Or horrifying? Or something else?”

You smile again, rubbing the back of his hand as you hope to settle his nerves. You can tell he has built all this up into something major in his mind. “Then I’d learn to love that, too. But it doesn’t matter, because I will never, ever, ask you to break your Creed for me.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, pleasant as you stare into his visor, hoping that any change might alert you to his current mental state. He’s the first one to break the silence.

“I know you wouldn’t ask it. It’s part of the vows.”

You blink a few times, not understanding. “What’s part of the vows?”

He responds quickly. “I have to show you my face.”

You’ll feel badly about it later, but in the moment you’re so taken aback by it that your voice raises and comes out like a blaster shot. “You what?”

You can hear a audible deep sigh through the modulator, his tone exasperated. “We vow to share all with one another. I have to share this, too. There are no secrets between riduurs. It’s why they’re always done in private.”

You squeak out an “oh”, but that’a all you can manage.

“Do you… still want to? If you don’t, I wouldn’t…”

You shift quickly, gathering both of his hands in your own as you pull yourself closer to him. You want him to see that you are serious about this. “Yes. Kriff, yes, of course I do.”

“Even if…” You shake your head and cut him off before he can start.

“No. Din. Even if I could never see your face. Even if you were the most conventionally ugly human in the entire galaxy. I. Want. To. Marry. You.” He nods a little bit in acceptance. “How soon can we do it?”

Shifting in his seat, he squeezes your hands back in his own. “Whenever you want, cyar’ika. It’s just us.”

You look toward the barren lands in front of you and then back to him. “Can we do it now? Here?”

He sighs again, and you can tell how baadly this conversation must have been wearing on his soul. “If that’s what you want, yes.”

“Then tell me the vows.”

He’s visibly taken aback by your sudden response, floored by the way you’ve been responding to him since he first brought this all up. “You… really? Right now?”

You sit up in the chair a little more, smiling, waiting, hopeful “I’ve waited long enough, Din - I’m not wasting another moment without you being mine. What are the vows, Din?”

He stutters out a response. Even though he knows these vows by heart, sharing them with you sends him spiraling into a nervousnss that he’s never felt before.“I, uh… T-There are four of them: Mhi solus tome. We are one when together. Mhi solus dar’tome. We are one when parted. Mhi me’dinui an. We share all. Mhi bajuri verde. We will raise warriors.”

You smile. The vows - like all things Mandalorian - are short and sweet. But that means that every vow - every word - every letter - means that much more. Din tells you each vow again, this time addressing you directly. He goes slowly, and helps you through each vowel that feels foreign on your tongue. You stumble the most over the last one - the heavy-handed language is like a sticky substance stuck to the roof of your mouth, but you make it through to the other side and you look at him, hopeful.

There’s a lightness to your heart that you don’t recognize when Din tells you, “Then it is written in song, my riduur.”

Your face erupts into a wild grin, never having thought youd see the day that he would can you mine. “Riduur…” You test out the word on your tongue, feeling like you could have been floating on clouds.

His hands squeeze yours, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

“Yes. My riduur, Lady Djarin.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much for so long, but you just cant make yourself stop. You can’t help the expression that forms on your face at his words.

“Lady Djarin. I like it.” He chuckles, smoothing one ungloved hand over your cheek. He grabs your hands in his and places them on either side of his helmet.

“Help me fulfill the rest of my vows to you?”

You nod your head, yes, knowing that this moment would be emblazoned in your memory forever. This evening would change everything. In a new house, on a new planet, with a newly christened relationship, and a tiny wizard of a green child, this is where you and Din finally became one. One clan, one partnership, one shared bond - forever.

And it turns out, you couldn’t wait.

riduur - spouse

riduurok - marriage/love bond

aruetii - outsider

cyare/cyar'ika - beloved one; term of endearment

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x y/n #din x you #din dijarin fanfiction #writing #no beta we die like men #this might be incoherent #im posting it anyway

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never-ending-fanfic · 5 months

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Kallus and Tala

Because we really need more Dad!Kallus and his Lasat daughter

Here's the link to All My Love

This is a design for Tala, of course after changing her into new clothes. Let me tell you, drawing a Lasat kid is hard, I struggled, but a bit less than I thought I would, which was a nice surprise 💜 I just made her a teeny tiny ball of fur with lilac hair and pretty eyes

I wish I could hug her, she's turned out so kriffing cute, she's just a lil kitty 💜

I love her your honour

P.S. I promise, I thought I posted it already then I realised it's still in my drafts ugh... Anyway, you'll have a spam of All My Love art now 💛🧡❤��

#alexsandr kallus #kallus #agent kallus #star wars #star wars rebels #garazeb orrelios #zeb orrelios #star wars oc #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels fanfic #star wars rebels oc #swr #sw rebels

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lady-pug · 1 year

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In Sickness And In Health - In Health

Summary: Whatever the kid had has now passed onto you. You feel kriffing awful but keep on working because you feel like you have to pull your weight around the ship, making Din worry. If only you’d let him take care of you.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,3k

Warnings: description of sickness (no throwing up this time tho)

Notes: the sequel! this one is kinda self indulgent, I wish I had a Din for myself to take care of me whenever I'm sick. I hope you enjoy this one!

Reader’s gender not specified.

Next part | Previous part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

You should have known this would happen. It was pretty obvious really, it was bound to happen no matter how hard you tried to prevent it.

After you and the kid had fully rested, the baby was incredibly clingy towards you. One look at your injured forearms and he had started whimpering, his large eyes glossy as he nuzzled into your arms. While you couldn’t understand what he was saying, you could only guess he felt guilty about hurting you.

“Oh, love. It’s not your fault.” you tried reassuring him as best as you could, but he only snuggled closer to you, much to Din’s amusement.

Speaking of which, once you had woken up, Din had explained what he had found while out. Apparently the man he had agreed to meet had scammed him in exchange for help on something? But you had to admit that the idea he had gotten out of it, his plan to search for other mandalorians, was actually quite a good start. So he set course to this backwater planet in the Outer Rim, notorious for housing mandalorian bounty hunters on occasion.

The first leg of the trip was spent in relative peace. The kid was still a little weak after being ill so he was a lot less active than usual (which was a nice change from having to chase him around the hull all the time). After a quick stop to visit the market and buy some fresh food and restock on medical supplies, you were off again.

Which led you to today. As you went to bed the ‘night’ before you were already feeling… weird. Slightly more tired than usual, especially considering you didn’t do anything that could have worn you out that much. And today… well you felt like you had been run over by a Jawa sandcrawler. Your whole body was sore, aching all over, your throat felt scratchy, there was an annoying pressure behind your eyes, your skull felt like it was filled with cotton, and you were hearing funny, as if you were underwater.

Dragging yourself out of your cot and up the cockpit required a lot more strength than usual, and you almost gave up, tempted to go back to sleep, but quickly reminded yourself that you had tasks you had to do, and the kid to look after as well.

Finally making your way inside the cockpit where Din was piloting the Crest, you all but fell on the copilot seat. He turned slightly sideways in his seat to signal he was listening.

“How long until we get there?” you tried to say without wavering, but something in your voice must have given away that you weren’t feeling great, as he turned fully towards you.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you were most definitely not fine, but were not about to let him know just yet “Why?”

“I don’t know. You just sound… off.” he paused “And you don’t look so good.”

“Gee, Mando, thanks.” you answered, sarcasm dripping from your tone, before shifting back to a more neutral expression “I’m fine, Din. Really. Just feeling tired, didn’t sleep all that well.”

You hoped he would drop it and leave it at that. Your sore throat was starting to burn a little from so much talking.

“Why don’t you take a nap? Restore your energy?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought, your heart fluttering in your chest from how concerned he sounded about you.

“I can’t.” you sighed “Lots of things to do.”

“I can handle the repairs and look after the kid so you can rest.”

This man, this kriffing perfect, beskar covered man was here, offering to do your job just so you could rest. If you weren’t already feeling more warm than usual you were sure your cheeks would have flushed at that. And his offer was oh so tempting, you wanted nothing more than to just crawl back under the covers and let sleep overtake you. But you had work to do. You already felt like you weren’t pulling your weight enough, ever since the kid started getting better, as Din had done most of your chores while you were out. Not only did he come back very tired after hunting down the information, he also picked up your slack. And here he was offering to do it all over again.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna wake the kid up and we’ll have breakfast together. I’m sure I’ll feel as good as new after a fresh cup of caf.”

As you turned to leave the cockpit you missed the way he kept his visor trained on you as you retreated back into the hull, nor did you see the look of concern directed your way from under the helmet.

As it turned out, you did not, in fact, feel ‘as good as new’ after breakfast. If anything you somehow felt worse: the caf you drank upsetting your already uneasy stomach even further. The kid, none the wiser to your current predicament, was happy to sit down and doodle after eating. You were thankful that he didn’t seem to be up to too much trouble today, as you certainly didn’t have the energy to look after him if he did decide to wreak havoc on the ship like he usually did, and got to work.

Although most of the things you had to do were small repairs around the ship, there were lots of them. And on top of that you also had to do the inventory of the things you and Din had bought on the last stop. You worked at a slower pace than usual, occasionally taking small breaks to deal with a coughing or sneezing fit.

At one point you started feeling progressively colder, shivering no matter how many layers of clothing you put on, even though you were dripping with sweat. You must have a fever. The kid doodles away while you try to focus on the task at-hand. You need to finish your chores. Logically and realistically, you knew it was just the fever talking, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were burdening Din. And the very last thing you wanted was to disappoint him.

You were just finishing the last of the repairs for the day, having taken a considerably longer amount of time to get it all done, and were mentally preparing yourself to get started on the inventory when you heard the familiar clanking sound of steps climbing down the leader from the cockpit.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” you lied nasally from how stuffy your nose felt, not sounding very convincing not even to yourself.

He sighed.

“Cyar’ika…”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“What do you mean?” you tried forcing a smile but failing “I feel perfectly fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” he started, a twinge of annoyance permeating his voice “You don’t sound fine. And” he tapped something on the side of your helmet before looking back at you “your core temperature is elevated. What’s going on?”

You sighed, realizing your attempts at hiding how you were feeling were pointless as he could read you almost like an open book.

“I think I caught whatever the kid had the other day.” you averted your gaze, feeling slightly like a kid getting scolded after being caught doing something they shouldn’t “I don’t feel really good.”

His shoulders slumped, as if he was relieved.

“Why don’t you go take a nap while I make you some soup? We have all those fresh vegetables that we bought, it should do the trick.”

You wanted to take him up on it.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I still have some things to get done with.”

“Let me handle whatever you have left to do.” he said, raising his voice just a fraction.

“No, I have to finish the work.” you insisted.

“Why are you so adamant on getting work done when you feel bad?” his annoyed tone was back.

“Because!” you snapped, your throat screaming in agony as you did so “I haven’t been able to keep up with the work lately. If I can’t even do my job right, what is even the point of you keeping me around?!”

Din reeled as if you had slapped him.

“You really think so little of me?” he asked in a small voice.

You visibly deflated.

“I-I’m sorry, Din.” you stammered “That’s not what I- I just-”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I keep you around because I enjoy your company. Because I like having you around.” he said softly.

You smiled softly at him, feeling somewhat relieved, even though you knew that all along.

“Thanks, Din.” your voice came out even more scratchy than before “I mean it. I enjoy your company too.”

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly once before dropping his hand.

“Why don’t you take that nap now? I’ll wake you up in a bit with something for you to eat.”

You nodded slowly, your limbs heavy and your headache a bit worse.

“Let me take care of you.”

Even in your weak state, something in the way he said it made your heart speed up, pounding like it was going to beat out of your chest, and heat spread through your entire body.

“Okay.”

You started making your way to your cot when Din grabbed your arm and started steering you towards his own bunk.

“But Din-”

“Please.” he cut you off.

You sighed half-heartedly but let him lead you there, snuggling into his slightly uncomfortable mattress. You felt a comforting clench in your chest when he laid the covers over your form, practically tucking you in.

“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a bit with some food.”

You barely nodded in response, already drifting off to sleep.

Din was worried about you. If he had to admit it, worried would be an understatement. He could see right through you when you said you were feeling fine earlier, you looked anything but fine, he could hear it in your voice. But he let it go, if it was something important, you would come to him of your own accord when you were ready. Once he realized you weren’t going to relent, he felt the need to step in.

There was also the matter of what you had told him. He knew it was probably just the fever making you just a little bit delirious, probably brought up by the fact you had fallen behind on your schedule, so he tried not to let your comment sting too much. Din knew you appreciated his presence, and knew that you knew he appreciated your own in turn. Or at least he hoped you did. He was more of a man of action instead of words, so he tried to let his actions speak for themselves, always buying you fresh goods, always leaving your favorite flavor of dehydrated protein bars for you, occasionally buying you some trinkets that reminded him of you when strolling a street market.

What Din felt for you, he had recently come to realize, was more than just appreciation. He loved you, he was helmet over boots in love with you. He wanted only the best for you, so he took it upon himself to take care of you and make you feel better. Like you had done for the kid before.

“Come on, kid” he said, picking the boy up and settling him on the counter “Let’s prepare a meal, yeah?”

He tried searching the holonet for some comfort food recipes from Tatooine, your home planet, and eventually settled on making cream of womp rat soup. He was thankful that you had insisted on buying fresh food at the last stop, which made his job here a little bit easier (although he did have to replace the womp rat meat for another kind).

The kid giggled the entire time, helping the Mandalorian stir the ingredients while his father chopped some vegetables. By the time the soup was all ready and steaming in a bowl, he went to wake you up. Opening the door to his bunk, he felt the corner of his lips curl up in a soft grin at the sight of you, curled up in his bed. While he hated waking you up, he knew you had to eat. He shook your shoulder lightly.

“Cyar’ika…”

“Hmm…?” you sleepily raised your head, acknowledging him.

“I got you some soup. Come on.”

“How long was I out?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“One standard hour, more or less.”

Din gently helped you up into a sitting position, with your back against what would be a headboard (if he had one). He went to retrieve the bowl when he noticed the kid peering up at the bed, making grabbing motions with his hands. Picking him up, he placed him over the covers, near your legs.

“Someone wanted to keep you company.” he said, to which you giggled in return, before launching on a fit of sneezes.

He grabbed the bowl and went back to his bunk, setting it over your lap. He noticed the kid had snuggled against your hip, his little head over your thigh.

“I’m not the best cook in the galaxy” he said, feeling a twinge of awkwardness crawl its way up his throat “but I hope you like it.”

“Well, I would tell you it smells amazing if I could actually feel it.” he chuckled in response “If I’m able to taste anything, I’m pretty sure it will be great.”

He sat down by your feet at the edge of the bed, placing a hand over one of your knees and squeezing it softly. After you brought the spoon to your mouth, you let out a tiny moan of satisfaction.

“Maker, Din” you sighed happily “This is delicious. Is this-?”

“Cream of womp rat soup.” he finished.

“Minus the womp rat, I presume?”

He laughed at that, nodding his head.

“I know you don’t really like your home world, but you grew up there. I just assumed you would find some comfort in it.”

“It’s perfect, Din.” you grinned at him, a smile that made his heart skip a beat “Thank you.”

After another spoonful, you piped up again, your voice more playful.

“And it’s certainly better than the one I prepared for the kid the other day.”

You ate in silence, just the occasional cooing sounds coming from the kid, who was dangerously close to dozing off with his head draped over your thigh. Din’s heart clenched in adoration at the loving smile on your face, clearly enjoying the meal he so thoughtfully prepared for you.

You finished eating, drinking directly from the bowl, and turned back towards him.

“It was delicious, Din. Thank you. I mean it.” your smile seemed to light up your face, even with your sunken cheeks and the prominent bags under your eyes that were getting more noticeable by the hour.

“It was my pleasure, Cyar’ika.” he smiled in return, even though you couldn’t see it “Anything for you to feel better.”

You quickly averted your eyes, a nervous look in your eyes making itself known for just a tiny fraction of second, before you looked back at him with a tired smile.

“I think my fever is getting worse.” your face fell when you sighed “I feel like it’s getting colder around here.”

He tapped the side of his helmet.

“Your temperature is getting higher.”

Din got up, retrieving the kid and placing him back on the floor next to his coloring tools. He then extended a hand towards you.

“Come on. A cool shower should help alleviate the symptoms.”

He helped you up on your feet, holding onto your elbow as you swayed upon planting your feet on the cold durasteel floor. He didn’t dare let go of your hand as you two slowly walked the small distance towards the fresher. He leaned you on a wall while preparing the water temperature for you.

“Think you can take it from here?” he asked, a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah. Should be fine.”

As you moved to step away from him, he gently held your hand.

“I’m going to bring you some clothes. If you need anything, I’ll be right outside the door.”

You nodded, thanking him. He was left to watch you step into the fresher, closing the door behind you.

The cool water felt soothing on your feverish skin somehow. The droplets seemed to wash away all your worries and struggles, leaving only a tired body behind.

You washed slowly, your movements precise and careful in order not to drop anything, as you were sure you wouldn’t be able to crouch and pick it up without slipping and possibly injuring yourself quite badly. Leaving your face for last, you enjoyed how it suddenly made you feel just a little bit better. You only exited when your eyelids started feeling heavy and droopy (which didn’t really take long to be honest).

You reached for the towel hanging next to you, wrapping it around yourself after having dried off. With your skin now dry, the cold came back in full swing, having seemingly intensified while you showered, making you tremble on the spot. Maker, all you wanted was to get dressed and slip back under the covers, as you were suddenly getting very tired again, as if all the energy you gained from the small nap and Din’s soup was washed down the drain along with the water.

Opening the door you came face to face with a towering wall of beskar. His arms were extended in your direction, holding a pile of folded clean clothes, his helmet turned to the side, not staring directly at you. Once you got the clothes, he quickly turned around, his back to you, giving you some privacy.

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You felt as if you were dressing in slow motion, your movements sluggish. The shirt was certainly not yours, probably one of Din’s, and the thought made a warm feeling spread across your chest.

“All set.”

Din turned back towards you, tilting his head to the side, like he was assessing your appearance in his clothes. He took a step forward, almost chest to chest with you, and, picking your arm up gently, started rolling the sleeve up, exposing your forearm. Something about the gesture felt incredibly intimate, and if you weren’t so very tired you would definitely be able to pay attention to the erratic beat of your heart. When he was done with the other sleeve he started leading you back to his bunk.

“Can’t you just give me an antipyretic or something?” you whined under your breath.

He chuckled lightly, his heart breaking a little bit for you were suffering.

“No, Cyar’ika. A fever is the body’s natural defense against the infection. Unless it starts getting dangerously high, you should let it go away on its own.”

You huffed, stubbornly, but let it go. As you arrived back on his bed, he helped you lie down and get comfortable, wrapping you in as many blankets he could get his hands on. As he went to leave your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay.”

“Cyar’ika-” he started.

“Please?” you almost whispered.

He hesitated for just a moment before removing his vembrances. One by one the pieces of his armor came off, being carefully placed in a crate near the bunk, leaving him in only his helmet and flightsuit.

Din lied down beside you and you instantly scooted closer to him, nuzzling into his chest. He tensed for just a second, before his body relaxed, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you even closer.

“Thank you, Din” you said “for looking after me.”

Din tilted his head, touching his chest with his chin, and briefly pressed the cold beskar forehead of his helmet to your own very lightly.

“Always.”

You soon fell asleep, feeling safe and protected like never before.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin fluff #grogu baby yoda #grogu and din #the mandalorian fanfiction

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millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 4.2k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info

notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually.

Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour?

You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state.

“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask.

“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.”

You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?”

“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out.

“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.”

He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”

Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff.

But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four.

“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.”

Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.”

“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.”

You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue.

“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice.

As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut.

Oh, Maker, he is adorable.

“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms.

The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle.

You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart.

You have to look away.

All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around.

You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground.

It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time.

But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest.

“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area.

“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.”

“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.”

The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.

It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home.

As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once.

Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave.

Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee.

“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him.

The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him.

You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds.

“Mando?” You find yourself saying.

He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid.

“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?”

“Where do you want to hear about?”

“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.”

For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?”

And, okay.

That hits a nerve.

You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice.

“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.”

Quiet again. He’s giving you space.

You take it, let it sink in.

Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”

And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor.

It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.

You don’t want to lie to him.

You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind.

And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that.

No, it’s not that.

It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.

And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway.

So.

“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.”

Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.

Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.

Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”

And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.

The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands.

Well.

This is new.

As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better.

Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too.

As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.

“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)

“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.”

Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.”

He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious.

“What?” You frown. “But your ship…”

“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.”

“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.”

The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.

You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.”

The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground.

Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.

When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?”

“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.

That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang.

But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore.

For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots.

“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon.

“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.”

Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment.

Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him.

Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now.

The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared.

But it’s Mando.

This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime.

He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks.

Kriff. You nod, unable to form words.

The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that.

And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now.

Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—

His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.

You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back.

But then.

Then.

As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—

But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip.

You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows.

And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.

You look away before he even lowers the helmet again.

Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving.

That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here.

But that’s been fine. It’s been safe.

“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body.

His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything.

Why wouldn’t he have friends?

Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound.

It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work.

The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him.

You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before?

The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature.

“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question.

Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch.

You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again.

“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.”

You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.

“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder.

“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.”

With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.”

You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could.

“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?”

He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.”

He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other.

“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow.

“Yes.”

“At everyone, or just me?”

He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.”

Oh.

The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example.

You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking.

He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.”

“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.”

Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!?

“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.

You weren’t expecting that.

Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?”

He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.”

You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.”

“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.”

You can’t find a reason to refuse.

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arctrooper69 · 10 months

Text

Solidarity

You have friends here - family. Sometimes you simply need silence to hear what you need to hear.

A/N: Part of @clonexreaderbingo for the square: "Stay with me"

Warnings: Panic attack, feeling useless, anxiety.

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The mission was successful. No one was hurt, nothing had been compromised. The mission objective had been more than fulfilled and spirits were high - even Hunter sported a sly grin. Wrecker's boisterous, joy filled laugh echoed down the wooded trail towards the Marauder. For once, everything had gone according to plan. So why did it feel so heavy? Disconnected - like you were trapped behind a window, watching everyone else play their part?

Echo came behind you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. He smiled, "You did good today."

You pulled your face into what you hoped seemed like a believable smile, but for some reason, his words of encouragement made you feel worse.

"You did good today."

Had you really though? You sighed, Probably not. He was just saying it to placate you, so that you didn't feel like a total failure. It didn't work.

You recalled how you fell at least three times, tripping over your own feet.

Clumsy.

You couldn't seem to hold your blaster steady.

Weak.

Everything had been so overwhelming and frankly you'd been terrified.

Coward.

Even Omega had done much better than you, and she was a child. At least she was useful. You watched as she playfully skipped up the ramp and sighed.

What the hell is wrong with you!? Your inner voice scolded. Jealous of a kid!? That's really kriffing pathetic.

You trudged up the ramp into the Marauder, guilt tugging at your chest, weighing you down as it had been for some time now.

"Are you ok?"

You jumped as a low voice interrupted your self-sabotaging spiral. Of course Echo would be the one to notice. Great. Now you had soured his mood as well.

Shifting away from him, you tightly folded your arms against yourself as you leaned on a crate just inside the doorway. Everyone else had already disappeared into the main part of the ship. You doubted they even noticed your absence.

"I'm fine." You lied. "Just a little tired. That's all."

Echo was silent, and for a moment you thought he'd believed you and left to go celebrate with the others. Your heart sank. Part of you had actually hoped he'd stay.

You shifted again and to your surprise, he hadn't moved. He regarded you carefully, face unreadable. He took a breath and then looked up at you.

"Okay." He said calmly, almost casually. He jerked his head towards the ramp. "Let's go for a walk."

The two of you were silent, taking in the fresh summer air. The last rays of sunlight slowly faded behind the horizon leaving you in the soft evening glow of moonlight. You were greatful for the silence as Echo climbed up over a grassy hill and sat down. You sat beside him and the heavy feeling in your chest suddenly felt much heavier.

"So," Echo began slowly. You could feel his penetrating gaze and it only made you want to hide your face in shame. You didn't meet his eyes. Because then he'd see how weak you actually are, sneered your inner voice.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"I'm -"

"Yeah no," he interrupted. "Don't tell me you're fine because I know you aren't."

You were silent because you knew that if you opened your mouth to speak, you wouldn't be able to stop from breaking down completely.

"I don't belong here." You whispered around the lump in your throat.

Your heart sank, expecting him to scoff or throw out a cliched affirmation like the ones you'd heard your entire life:

"Of course you belong!"

"We're here for you."

"Keep your head up. It'll get better soon."

Empty promises from people who only pretended to care just enough to placate your needy anxieties. Just enough to seem polite. But Echo was silent.

"What makes you think that you don't belong?" He asked quietly.

"I..." You choked, unable to keep back the tears any longer. You felt heavier than ever. "I'm not smart like Tech or strong like Wrecker. I can't fight like Hunter or slice code like you." Your chest bucked in a futile attempt to hold back the sobs. "Even...even Omega is more useful than me."

Your breath came in jagged gasps as tears fell hot and heavy down your face, soaking the knees of your trousers where your head rested, arms curled protectively around your legs.

"I can't...." You gasped, lips tingling with the all too familiar numbness of panic, fingernails drawing blood from your tightly clenched fists.

"Listen to me." Echo was speaking but he sounded muffled - far away.

"Hey." He called your name, putting a hand on your arm. His voice was firm and unwavering, but it held a genuine kindness. His voice was grounding.

"Echo?" You whispered shakily.

"Yeah. Im here." His flesh hand squeezing your shoulder provided a strange sense of comfort. "Just breathe, okay? Ill do it with you."

Slowly your breaths began to sync with his.

In. Out. In. Out.

Echo sat beside you silently. He didnt bother to ask if you were alright again. He knew you weren't - and that was okay. Sometimes all you needed was a friend. Silent support - though it broke his heart that you thought you weren't useful.

"Can you stay here with me for awhile?" You whispered, taking another shuddering breath.

"We can stay out here as long as you need to." He replied and you nodded gratefully.

He opened his mouth, then paused, closing it again as though there was something he wanted to say but thought better of it. He shook his head. No. This was important.

"I dont think you're useless." He uttered quietly. You lifted your eyes. Where you'd expected pity, you found only Echo's hard gaze of sincerity.

"In all honesty, we'd have fallen apart a long time ago if you weren't here."

You scoffed and looked down, not meeting his eyes, but Echo continued as if he hadn't heard.

"You're the one who Omega comes to at night when she has a nightmare. Not me, not Hunter or Wrecker or Tech. You." He softly chuckled to himself. "You're the only one who managed to pull a smile from Crosshair after we got him back. Crosshair. Our snarky, pissed-off-sniper of a brother. You got him to smile after all he'd been through."

You still refused to look up at Echo, but the sound of his voice was soothing.

"And Hunter said that the headset you built gave him the best night sleep in a long time. Sure, Tech helped you build it....but it was your idea."

He gently paused, watching your shuddering breaths slowly give way to calmer ones.

"...and," he began again hesitantly and stopped. Then with the confidence of the ARC trooper he was, he continued. "You dont take shit from anyone. No wonder Wrecker always partners with you on missions. You're tough. And you're smart. I've seen you take hits that would probably take me out, and you bounce right back up. Yeah, maybe you don't speak up a lot but I've seen your strategies at work in the field. You help keep us together. As a team, and as a family. So don't you dare think that you're useless, because you're not!"

Echo trailed off into an awkward silence as though realizing you probably didn't want all this. He hadn't meant to get so passionate towards the end. You blew it, Echo. Now she thinks you're just patronizing her.

"Echo?"

He raised his eyes to meet yours, dragging himself from those nagging anxious thoughts.

A faint smile tugged at your lips. "Thank you."

Echo squeezed your shoulder again. It would be a while before the weight lifted from your chest, but for now you could settle in the silence next to your best friend.

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