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imaginedisish · 2 years

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Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!

Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*).

Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,221

The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.

But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.

It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.

“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.

“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.

“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.

You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.

You quietly wish he was still looking at you.

And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.

“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.

If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.

He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.

“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.

“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.

He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.

After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…

No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.

“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.

All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”

“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.

The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.

He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.

He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.

You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.

He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.

Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.

Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.

“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.

Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.

He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.

You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.

He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.

You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.

He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.

You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”

You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?

But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.

“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.

You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.

“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.

You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”

He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”

His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.

You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.

“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.

“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.

His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.

He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.

“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.

He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”

You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”

Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.

“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.

You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.

“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.

Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.

He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.

His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.

“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”

You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.

He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.

“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.

He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.

“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.

He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.

“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”

“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.

“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.

He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.

“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”

He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…

“Always.”

Yeah, I saw sparks

And I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 2 years

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Clan of Three Series

Clan of Three - Series Masterlist

A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Word Count: 172.2K

Season One:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Chapter Two: The Sin

Chapter Three: Sanctuary

Chapter Four: The Gunslinger and Past

Chapter Five: The Prisoner

Chapter Six: The Reckoning

Chapter Seven: Redemption

Season Two:

Chapter Eight: The Marshal

Chapter Nine: The Passenger

Chapter Ten: The Heiress

Chapter Eleven: The Siege

Chapter Twelve: The Jedi

Chapter Thirteen: Tragedy

Chapter Fourteen: The Rescue

The Book of Boba Fett:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian and The Jedi

Chapter Two: Return of the Mandalorian

Chapter Three: From the Desert Comes a Stranger

Chapter Four: In the Name of Honor

Season Three:

Chapter Fifteen: The Apostate

Chapter Sixteen: The Mines of Mandalore

Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge

Chapter Eighteen: The Foundling

Chapter Nineteen: The Pirate

Chapter Twenty: Guns for Hire

Chapter Twenty-One: The Spies

Chapter Twenty-Two: Clan of Three

Drabbles/One-Shots:

Crossing a line - (one-shot) high stakes can be the reason the innocence begins to crack. (Takes place between the end of Season 2 and BOBF)

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

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anonymousewrites · 9 months

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Clan of Three Christmas Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Mouse Note: Happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and like this little moment for Mando and Ginger and Grogu

“What are gifts traditional for apprentices?” asked Mando.

The Armorer turned from the Forge to face him. “Why do you ask?”

“It is the anniversary of when I found Grogu and (Y/N). I want to commemorate it,” said Mando simply.

The Armorer nodded approvingly. “You have a strong bond with your Clan. That is good.” She placed her hammer down and fully focused on Mando. “So, you wish for gifts.”

“Yes,” said Mando. “I’ve given Grogu chainmail to protect him, and (Y/N) has their remade Ushti dagger. I have not had a Clan of my own or apprentices before, so I don’t know what I should give them next.”

The Armorer considered carefully. “Grogu is still quite young for more armor. Perhaps a game for him.”

Mando nodded. “He would enjoy that.” He paused. “Grogu, uh, likes the silver topper of one of the levers from my old ship. It’s a simple sphere, but he’d like that.”

The Armorer nodded. “Very well. And for (Y/N)?”

“They have a blaster and dagger, and I don’t feel comfortable arming them more,” said Mando.

“Their tendency to run into danger worries you,” said the Armorer in amusement.

Mando sighed. “Yes.”

“Then how about something to protect them?” suggested the Armorer. “A piece of armor would guard against some injuries.” She looked at the Mythosaur emblem on the wall. It reminded her that Mandalore the Great had chosen (Y/N) to guide. That was significant. “And it is time for them to start obtaining armor. They have more than earned their first piece.”

Mando brightened but kept calm. “Yes. That would be good. I’d enjoy the honor of giving (Y/N) their first bit of Mandalorian armor.”

The Armorer turned back to her tools. “What piece shall I craft?”

“A gauntlet for their wrist or forearm,” said Mando. “To protect their dominant arm while they fight.”

The Armorer nodded in approval. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” said Mando.

“You’re supposed to throw it back to me, Grogu,” said (Y/N), hands on their hips as they looked at their brother.

Grogu babbled happily, still levitating the stone in front of him. (Y/N) rolled their eyes, lifted a hand, and pulled the stone to them. Grogu squawked indignantly.

“Relax, I’m going to toss it right back,” said (Y/N), flicking their ring and letting the rock float back to Grogu, who smiled widely upon getting to levitate it again. (Y/N) grinned but rolled their eyes. “I need practice, too.”

“You’re supposed to be resting after our last mission,” said Mando, walking up behind them and crossing his arms.

Grogu let the rock drop, and (Y/N) turned around without any embarrassment or guilt.

They shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“The last time you said that, you slept for an entire day when I finally got you to rest,” said Mando.

“That was one time, Buir,” said (Y/N).

“Ad’ika, we both know it was more than that,” said Mando.

“Okay, fine, maybe it was,” said (Y/N). “Sorry.”

“You’re not, but I’m going to accept your apology because I’m going to make you rest,” said Mando.

“Whatever you say,” said (Y/N). They noticed the little parcels he was carrying. “What’re those?”

Mando suddenly shifted, getting shyer. He still wasn’t used to being so soft, even if it was with his kids. And he wanted to do this right since it was an important moment.

“They’re gifts. For you and Grogu,” said Mando. “It’s the day that I found you two first.”

Grogu and (Y/N) were both silent.

“Is this alright?” asked Mando.

“You actually…You remember those things?” said (Y/N).

“Of course. You’re the most important parts of my life,” said Mando.

(Y/N) moved forward and hugged him tightly, and Grogu chirped and jumped up to hug him. Mando was surprised and balanced the presents before hugging them back.

“Thank you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu babbled in agreement.

“You haven’t even seen what I got you,” said Mando.

“Yeah, but you care about that. What you got us doesn’t matter,” said (Y/N).

Mando smiled beneath his helmet. “Thank you, Ad’ika.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still want the gift, though.”

“I know,” said Mando with a light laugh. He held up the presents. “This one is yours, and this one is Grogu’s.”

Before Mando could even hand them over, the parcels levitated and flew to their recipients as the force moved for them. Grogu eagerly opened his first and babbled with a grin as he held up the silver ball.

(Y/N) smiled. “He’ll be levitating and throwing that around the whole ship.”

Mando sighed. “I know, but it makes him happy.”

(Y/N) opened theirs then, and their eyes widened as they lifted up the beskar gauntlet. “Is this Mandalorian armor?”

“You’re a Mandalorian,” said Mando simply. “And you’ve risked your life for us so many times that you have earned it, Ad’ika.”

(Y/N) grinned, closed the gauntlet around their forearm, and hugged Mando again. “Thank you so much, Buir.” They were a Mandalorian. More than that though, they were Mando’s child. And that’s what meant the most.

“Of course, Ad’ika,” said Mando, holding them close. He had his kids. That was all he needed.

Taglist:

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@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

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peterpparkrr · 2 years

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Starlight (pt. 1)

Series: Starlight

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: A Mandalorian and a Jedi. Din Djarin needs a Jedi to train the child. The Jedi is surprised to discover that she is not alone in the universe.

A/N: s3 means new Mandalorian thoughts!

Your life had been a lonely one. But it was the isolation that kept you safe.

You often wondered if you shouldn’t be trying harder to look for other survivors, but every time you tried to reach out through the force you just felt… nothing.

The Jedi were gone.

And so it was safer for you to stay out here on your own little planet by yourself, where you knew no one would find you.

Until one day you heard the sound of twigs snapping under boots in the woods outside.

You moved to the window, silently watching as a figure stepped out of the trees.

“A Mandalorian,” You muttered to yourself as you stood up and walked over to your doorway.

You hadn’t seen a true Mandalorian in the flesh before. And you hadn’t seen armored men since you were a child. Since your master’s Battalion had turned on you.

“I will give you a chance to leave here with your life, Mandalorian,” You state loudly as you step out of your hut and into the clearing in front of your home.

“I am not here to-”

“-You need to leave,” You told the stranger before igniting your lightsaber with a familiar buzz, “Now.”

You attacked without a moment of hesitation, hoping to capture the element of surprise against your larger opponent.

You’d been alone for a long time. But that hadn’t meant you’d given up training.

Even with no master to guide you you’d worked hard to excel at your skills and had done your best to continue your training. Your master had always teased you for being a teacher’s pet. Though the end goal was no longer clear. You wouldn’t be a Jedi master.

The Jedi were well and truly gone.

But you would always be able to protect yourself.

As you swiped your lightsaber against the Mandalorian’s chest you were certain that this fight was already over. But your saber glanced off the armor in a way that made you second-guess yourself.

Maker. Mandalorian armor was made of Beskar, wasn’t it?

That’s when you felt it. You all but dropped your lightsaber as you whipped around.

A youngling? Here?

It only took you a few short strides before you were in front of the open cradle. Big, green ears were the first thing you saw, shortly followed by huge eyes that stared up at you. You plucked the child out of it’s cradle without a second thought.

“How…”

You hadn’t felt this feeling in years.

But his voice was clear inside your mind as he communicated with you.

Friends. Promise.

“You? You brought him here?” You asked the Mandalorian curiously.

“Yes,” The Mandalorian replies. Seemingly accepting your sudden change of mind as your eyes moved back to the small creature in your hands.

“We’ve been searching the galaxy for someone who can help him, who can teach him how to use his powers,” He says.

You hum quietly as your eyes bore into the child’s

What’s your name?

Grogu.

This is my papa. People call him Mando.

You tell both of them your name aloud as you grin down at the boy.

The Mandalorian. Mando. Merely stares at you, his helmet impermeable.

“You’re a Jedi.”

“Depends on your definition,” You reply. “The Jedi were killed in a genocide when the Empire seized power. The few who survived were hunted down and killed under the Empire’s regime.”

“My master kept us hidden from the Empire for years. She trained me here, under the radar of the Empire,” You explain. “She died a few years ago fighting with the rebellion.”

“But why does a Mandalorian have a force-sensitive foundling? I would have thought you’d have killed him the moment you found out what he was,” You ask quietly.

“Why?” The Mandalorian asks you, his helmet cocked.

“Well, the two don’t usually get along. The Jedi-Mandalorian War? It ravaged Mandalore. Prior to the Empire. Jedi-Mandalorian relations have been pretty tense ever since,” You explain.

“I was a foundling, my covert left many gaps in the Mandalorian history they taught us,” He replies.

“How did you find each other?”

Saved me.

“I was- am a bounty hunter, he was a quarry,” Mando tells you, you can hear the slight tinge of shame in his tone.

“I’ve taken him as a foundling, it’s Mandalorian creed,” Mando continues. “I’m duty-bound to either reunite him with his kind or raise him until he’s of age.”

“So… you want to dump him off here with me?” You ask, “I’m his kind?”

“How did you even find me?”

“A trader on the next planet over told me I might find you here, that there were rumors years ago about a Jedi. Stories. But the child — Grogu — got excited as we entered the atmosphere and I assumed that meant we were close.”

“I’ll… I’d like to visit, I can bring you supplies, whatever you need,” Mando offers. “I don’t want to leave him. But I can’t train him to control his powers.”

“Alright,” You finally reply with a nod. You can’t help but wonder if this is really a good idea, but Grogu reminds you of yourself in those early years of the Empire’s reign. And you hate to admit it, but their sudden appearance makes it clear that you’ve been lonely. Two stranger’s appearing at your doorstep has made you more excited than anything has for the last five years. And maybe even longer.

You watched from your doorstep as the pair said their goodbyes. Despite knowing they weren’t saying goodbye forever it was clear they were both taking this separation hard. You turned away in an effort to give them some semblance of privacy, even though their emotions were flowing off them both like ocean waves breaking against a cliff.

“We’ll see you soon,” You tell the Mandalorian when he hands Grogu to you. “May the force be with you, Mando.”

“You miss him,” You tell Mando plainly.

Every few weeks the Mandalorian would come visit, and spend hours with Grogu while you quietly watched. Sometimes you’d all sit together, Grogu was always eager to show Mando what he had learned, or you’d share with Mando what you’d learned from Grogu about his past, what he couldn’t communicate with his father.

And they’d say a heartfelt, private goodbye before you’d bid Mando farewell and good luck.

You and Grogu both knew that you were always waiting for the Mandaloran’s next visit. It was only natural, you told yourself. It was a routine. And it was only natural that you latch on to it.

But now it was causing a block in your training.

“When you’re gone, you miss him, I can feel it, even without trying,” You continue when Mando doesn’t reply. You’ve grown used to that too with his visits. He’s a man of few words. You’ve often wondered if it’s a result of the helmet he wears at all times, or a convenient excuse provided by the helmet to a naturally shy man.

“Grogu’s the same way when you leave,” You add gently. “I’m a poor substitute for you. And I make him work which he doesn’t like.”

“That’s not true,” Mando protests. “He likes you. I can tell.”

“It’s creating a block. He can’t truly push through his fears when he’s so focused on his attachment to you,” You try to explain to him. You know that he doesn’t understand the force or the way that it works. Whenever you try and explain what you’re teaching Grogu he nods, but you can tell he has many questions.

You’d be happy to explain what he finds confusing, but he never voices the questions and it’s hard to describe what is often so indescribable about the ways of the force to someone who has no experience with it.

“You want me to stop visiting,” Mando says after a moment.

“No! No, of course not,” You reply quickly. You could never,

It would seem so impossibly cruel to separate the two. Even though they are not bound by blood. The father and son are inseparable and care for one another more than you’ve ever seen two people bound to one another.

“I think you should take us with you,” You tell him. “Wherever it is you’re going next.”

“My work is dangerous,” He reminds you.

You know that. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Since before his last visit. You know the threats posed to you out in the world. Especially in the sectors of the outer rim where Mando does most of his work. But you’ve weighed the dangers. It’s what’s best for all of you. The risks are worth it.

“You’ve been safe here, protected from the world for a long time, haven’t you?” Mando says.

“I have,” You reply. “But I’m tired of hiding. And I can certainly protect myself and Grogu.”

“Okay,” Mando replies with a nod.

You’re eyes widen slightly as you study the visor of Mando’s helmet. You hadn’t expected him to acquiesce so quickly. You’d had all sorts of other arguments prepared. Answers to all the potential concerns and questions he might have.

But you should have realized he wouldn’t protest. He missed his child. His foundling. Of course he would take you with him.

“You tell Grogu, I’ll pack our things,” You reply with a smile as you stand from your seat and turn back to your small cabin, already cataloging all of the belongings you have, and what you’ll be able to travel with.

#starlight #starlight series #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars series #star wars imagine #the mandalorian #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #mando #din djarin #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #din djarin and grogu

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wxckedwxrld · 1 year

Text

SW: Din Djarin

Imagines

* - smut ^ - angst ❤︎︎ - fluff ~ - lime

* Graceland too

* Melting away the frigid hearts

* Treacherous

* Laid Bare

* You

^ ❤︎︎* Luminary Love

* Yours

* Burning

* Bedtime

* Beneath a Felucian Sky

*^ Fever in My Eyes

* Purpose

~ Sinful Sunday

Mar’eyce

* honey-do

* My Kingdom for a Kiss Upon Her Shoulder

* Restraints

blurred lines [ch.1 ❤︎︎] [ch.2 ❤︎︎] [ch.3 ❤︎︎*] [ch.4] [ch.5 ❤︎︎*] [ch.6*] [ch.7^]

five intimate moments

• details

*intimate moments

* one of our own

* deprivation

claiming strangers [pt.2]

* the ache

* do you think of me when you touch yourself?

❤︎︎ hopes and dreams

❤︎︎ darasuum mureyca

* the missing glove

* the ambiguous bet

* the apology

* the botched mission

PSA: these writings ARE NOT MINE. This is a list of fanfiction I have read during august and sept. All credit goes to the original and rightful writers

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dinsmechanic · 1 year

Text

𝐃.𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

──.★ Sleep [ @guess-my-next-obsession ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 1k

⌗ mentions of violence, sleep deprivation, insomnia, allusions to sexy time

⌗ mature

──.★ just like this [ @guess-my-next-obsession ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 2.5k

⌗ mostly fluff

⌗ 18+, piv

──.★ of shadows and roses [ @the-scandalorian ]

⌗ royalty f!reader

⌗ bodyguard!din djarin

⌗ possessive!din

⌗ 5.3k

⌗ canon typical violence

⌗ angst, happy ending

⌗ 18+, smut, piv, fingering, oral f-receive

──.★ close your eyes [ @talaok ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 1k+

⌗ 18+, smut, oral f-receive, breeding

──.★ be my future [ @ezrasversion ]

⌗ 1k+

⌗ 18+, smut, breeding

──.★ predator versus prey [ @bitchin-beskar ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 3k

⌗ 18+, smut, cnc, breeding, restraints, hunter & prey

──.★ the bet [ @saradika ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 8.3k

⌗ 18+, semi public sex, praise, rough sex, fighting foreplay

──.★ wherever you stray, i follow [ @beskarandblasters ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 10k

⌗ 18+, fingering, unprotected piv, cockwarming, creampie

──.★ in your loving arms [ @djarins-wife ]

⌗ pregnant!reader

⌗ mand'alor!din djarin

⌗ 4k

⌗ 18+, smut, lactation, breeding, creampie, oral f-receive

──.★ hokaanir riduurok [ @proxima-writes ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 6.2k

⌗ ceremonial scarification, mentions of blood and wounds, use of weapons and aphrodisiacs

⌗ 18+, oral f-receive, piv, creampie, praise

──.★ oxytocin [ @oliviajdjarin ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 4.2k

⌗ 18+, smut, rough sex, piv, size kink

──.★ one last time [ @mewhenimsad ]

⌗ afab!reader

⌗ 1.5k+

⌗ dark fic

⌗ human trafficking, dark themes

⌗ 18+, smut

──.★ cyar'ika [ @themangolorian ]

⌗ gn!reader

⌗ 1k+

⌗ pure fluff

──.★ breathe you in [ @sushiwriterhere ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 4.7k

⌗ 18+, piv, sex pollen, kind of cockwarming, nipple play, spanking

──.★ creed [ @wheresarizona ]

⌗ mandalorian f!reader

⌗ 6.2k

⌗ domestic fluff

⌗ 18+, piv, breeding, first kiss, oral f-receive, praise

──.★ to build a home [ @happy-beeeps ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 4.2k

⌗ Hurt / comfort, fluff, domesticity, slice of life

──.★ where to start [ @tremendum ]

⌗ afab!reader

⌗ 2.7k

⌗ 18+, piv, begging, loss of virginity, din stuttering !!

──.★ after midnight [ @tremendum ]

⌗ princess!reader

⌗ bodyguard!din

⌗ 6.2k

⌗ threats of death

⌗ 18+, piv, m & f masturbation, teasing, creampie / cumplay

──.★ mando to the rescue [ @forever-rogue ]

⌗ afab!reader

⌗ 1k+

⌗ Hurt / comfort, fluff

──.★ my girl [ @toomanystoriessolittletime ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 3.3k

⌗ fluff, some angst

⌗ 18+, soft smut, piv, oral f-receive

──.★ sweet like sugar [ @pedrito-friskito ]

⌗ server girl!reader

⌗ manda'lor!din

⌗ 1k+

⌗ 18+, piv, din dirty talk

──.★ here for you [ @forever-rogue ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 2.1k

⌗ fluff

──.★ marks [ @lavendertales ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 3.9k

⌗ friends with benefits

⌗ 18+, piv, rough sex, face sitting, cock warming, cowgirl

──.★ my riduur [ @joelslegalwhre ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ riduur!din djarin, jealous!din, protective!din, helmet off din

⌗ 1.6k

⌗ pda, allusions to smut

──.★ ignite [ @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ protective!din, pissed off!din

⌗ 5k

⌗ drugging ( spiked drink )

⌗ slight gore, dead bodies

⌗ 18+, piv, sex pollen, dub-con, fingering, public sex

61 notes · View notes

obislittleone · 2 years

Text

What Once Was Mine

Chapter 11

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unaware of, was the real reason she’d been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: okay so there’s one more part after this one and then I’ll just probably start posting a series that’s like half finished but its in my drafts… and alsos the indy fic

Warnings: oh boy kinda a lot… mentions of death, having beatings take place, several scenes with blood… there’s a mention of beheading… sadness and depression idk. Uncomfortable situations fr… imprisonment and degradation again bc why not

Bo Katan sat on the stool across from you, watching with both anxiety and pride as you were being fitted with a traditional suit of Mandalorian beskar armor.

“You wear it well,” she commented, seeing the look on your face as you held the helmet in your hands. It matched the chest plate and the pauldrons in which were being placed upon each shoulder. They both carried the signet of the blue owl, and the etchings looked as though they had been carved ages ago. “I know you won’t disgrace it the way I have.”

You turned to her with sad eyes. She regrets the day she lost to Gideon, all but throwing the fight and losing everything she had in only a moment. She yielded, and that’s what everyone knew, but little did they know the cause as to why. She was a strong fighter, she would not have lost it had it not been for a certain someone.

“You did the best you could have done,” you assumed, trying to give an encouraging smile, though your nerves made the corner of your lip twitch in an awkward way.

“No, I didn’t. I gave in,” she paused, heaving a sigh and shaking off the wave of memories. “Gideon challenged me when I was only sixteen. I felt I was unready to be queen, so I faltered and let him win.”

“What?”

The surprise in your tone matched the wide eyed stare you wore on your face, the gears in your head working overtime to try and process why she might have done such a thing.

“There were things expected of me, and I wasn’t ready to commit to them… I once had a love like yours, but being queen meant I would be forced to give it up.” Her brows furrowed as she spoke of the past, an inkling in her mind wanted her to share it with you, but she was unsure if she was a good idea. You already had enough pressure on your shoulders.

“Bo,” you wanted her to feel your sympathy, to know that with your love’s life on the line, you could partially understand her feelings.

“After I lost the fight, that love was taken from me anyway. The King made fast enemies in the land, and drafted an entire army to rid him of all the people that stood in the way of his rule. The man I intended to marry was killed and I was powerless to stop it.”

“I’m sorry…” you trailed off, remaining silent for a few moments until you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of another chest plate hanging on the wall. You looked mighty and strong. “Gideon will be defeated, I promise. I will finish what you started.”

“I shall hope with everything in me that your strength will not falter in battle. I know you will do right by your hunter,” she nodded, taking the helmet from your hands and placing it atop your head. The metal felt warm around you, but the T shaped opening in the front gave you a sense of exact focus. As long as your eyes remained on Gideon, you would be set in your mission to kill him.

You’d never killed anyone before, and growing up you swore you never would, knowing the brutality of your powers was exactly why you were hidden away… you always said that violence was not your way, but this man had cheated you, lied to you and publicly humiliated you on more than one front. If all of that was not bad enough, the way he’d treated Din topped it all. The blood that had stained the edges of your beautiful green sleeves the night prior, it was thick and dark. Just like it had been when he crossed paths with death before. Your kidnapper who had tried to kill him was child’s play compared to the enemy you now faced. He held the power of the kingdom in his hands, and you needed to physically destroy him in order to stop him.

Din’s sentencing to death was paused temporarily, for the duel of rulers would take priority over the hanging of a single criminal. You only hoped he was alright, being stuck in a cage where he didn’t belong. He was like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly or flourish or do anything in the confines of his small cell.

It was only a matter of time before you set him free, and that was what you kept your mind on as you prepared to meet your opponent.

You’d been given a sword and shield to battle with, though they were heavy and you didn’t really need them. You’d gone over the rules with Bo Katan several times, and every time there had not been a rule against using ones magical powers… none else ever living in Mandalore seemingly possessed them.

You’d been standing in a room, overhearing the crowd shouting in the arena outside. The horseback ride on the way to said location was short, barely outside of the castle walls, but it gave you too much time to think about how things might possibly go wrong. You were stronger than him by far, and your motivation to fight was growing even now, but a small yet powerful voice in your head told you it was going to end poorly. You could lose your footing or get distracted. If you let your guard down even once, it would be over.

The door opening stopped your intrusive thoughts from rampaging, but the face on the other side made your skin crawl.

“What are you doing here?”

King Gideon chuckled darkly before entering the room. He was alone, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat at the moment. You couldn’t touch a hair on his head before the canon sounded, but anything he said or did now could easily take your mindset and make it even worse.

“If you’d care to take a quick stroll, I think there’s something you should see,” he spoke heavy, a smirk rising to his cheeks. He held his hand out towards the doorway, and you knew that he wouldn’t leave until you followed along with his charade, so you passed him and walked through the door. You noticed that with all your armor and thick sole boots, you were almost as large in frame as he was. It made you feel stronger in some way.

“Make it quick,” you turned to him, not allowing a hint of emotion to show through your voice. You wouldn’t let him have anything on you, not one show of anger or even a clenched fist to show he’d caused it.

His steps were mockingly slow from there, but it didn’t take long before he reached a staircase. He gestured for you to go first, and you did, climbing up what you counted to be three flights before there was another door. You looked back to the King, and he nodded, so you entered. You appeared to be on the top level of the arena, overlooking the kingdom. Three stories up, and you wondered if he’d perhaps dragged you up here to push you off. He was still King, and if he had, he’d be the ruler nonetheless, even if it was a cowardly move, he could still do it.

“If you’d care to sight see with me, I believe you’ll find a particular scene down there to your interest.”

You shifted your eyes over the ledge, and froze to your place.

Your small green child was held in a cage meant for a bird, his coos and cries for help being ignored by the palace guards keeping watch. On the ground beside him was Din, curling in on himself as three men beat him to a pulp. They kicked and yelled at him, watching in fake pity as he tried his best to fight back. He was in no condition to fight in the first place, nor was he strong enough after not being fed for two days.

“Stop them,” you turned to Gideon, your fiery gaze burning through his exterior for a moment, as he almost looked afraid. You still carried the sword made of Mandalorian iron, an impenetrable metal that could cut him down where he stood. He took a step back and immediately felt the power shift. This could still work to his advantage. “Stop them, now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve given my last orders as King before the duel, and as per tradition, my rule will be ceased until it is over,” he raised his hands, as if this was not his plan all along, to lure you here and allow you to see with your own eyes the man you loved being beaten to death. “I do hope for your sake he lives until the battle, for then you have a chance to save him.”

You weren’t going to let this happen. Everything you did was to protect the ones you love, and now they were being held against their will, one of them being tortured on your behalf, simply because the King couldn’t touch you, yet.

At this very point you didn’t care about the rules, only that an end was put to this man. A man who so viscously would steal from you everything you had for the reason of revenge. You drew your sword from the sheath at your hip, swinging it over your head and straight at him. But this was what he wanted, and he’d been prepared. He ignited the Dark Saber and blocked your strike, counter attacking and hitting your vambrace, which burned like fire. You retreated for only a second before again throwing the blade towards his body, which was deflected for a second time by his glowing weapon. It turned the metal of the sword red with heat, and not even a moment later, the sword was hit away from your hands by another rough strike.

Gideon stared you down, the saber inches away from your neck. You could feel the warmth emanating from where it was held, and tried your best to stay still. Even a flinch could end your life.

“Save it for the arena,” he said smugly before disengaging his weapon and handing yours back to you. You took it quickly, and turned to leave. If there was still time, you could tell Bo about the guards behind the building. She was a skilled fighter, perhaps she could stop them from killing Din until the fight was over.

As soon as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you’d been pulled by the arm.

“Where were you? It’s less than two minutes until the canon is lit,” Mayfeld seemed stressed, like he’d been looking for you for ages. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to leave the room they put you in until it was time, so already you’d gotten them on the tips of their toes.

“Mayfeld, you have to listen to me,” you tried to make him stop walking, to slow down at least so the words could come out while he was paying attention.

“It’ll have to wait until after the fight. You’re supposed to be out there already,” he kept on, practically dragging you with him until you reached a chain drawn entrance, the wooden slab being lowered to the ground.

“No, you don’t understand he’s-“

“You’re going to be fine, just remember what Bo said.”

And with that, you were shoved into the arena. You turned towards the center of it, hearing the people of the land cheering. You stood in fear of the events around you, seeing as though you had been thrust into the middle with no where to go. There was only one way out, and that was the death of Gideon, the faux King of Mandalore.

You looked to the other side of the arena, and sure enough… the second wooden slab was lowered until it hit the dirt, and behind it stood your opponent. His stance was wide, and it angered you to see how arrogantly he strolled in. His weapon was activated, and he dragged it next to him in the dirt, creating small fits of dust to fly in the air behind his steps.

He stopped about ten feet away from you, pointing to the top of the arena where you both were just standing only minutes ago. The canon had been raised, and the fuse had been lit, the flame getting closer and closer until the loud boom was heard, echoing through the sky.

You held your weapon steady, making sure your helmet was secure before charging him. You struck first, making contact with his saber, while he quickly rebuttals against you. You were fired up, and so was he. The crowd was only background noise as this feud ending battle commenced.

Bo had been made aware of the hunter’s disappearance from his cell. She snuck in that morning to try and get him into a safer location until after the fight, but found that he’d been removed, the cell at the end of the block being completely empty when she went in. She hadn’t however found him in time to prevent the horrendous beatings he’d received. At the sound of the canon, she left her place on the ground level of the arena, going outside to inspect the guards that had been rotating to a discreet location.

When she saw the hunter on the ground, covered in his own blood, she leapt into action immediately. She pulled the knives from her boots and threw them straight forward, killing out the only guards who had been armed. They dropped to the ground before her as the other three stopped their attack on Din to focus on her. She was a threat by all means, and they remember the fight she put up at her young age of sixteen. Now, it was likely she could kill a man with her bare hands.

“Who’s first?” She quipped, stepping in front of Din and tilting her head to the one in the center. He looked as if he was waiting to get a piece of her, and was all too confident he would be able to. “You.”

Just as anticipated, he ran towards her, arms flailing about and voice ringing out a battle cry. He was all bark, unfortunately, as she caught him before he made contact, gripping under his shoulder and twisting just right until his shoulder was out of socket. She grabbed his neck and bashed his head over her knee and he went down to the ground, writhing in pain and out of his clear consciousness as the next man charged after her. She kicked out in front of her this time, letting his weight carry him backwards, all she had to do then was land a hard sock on his jaw and he collapsed over top of the last one. The man left standing was not in any hurry to rush her, but he’d been waiting, watching strategically until the others were out of the way. He would wait for her to make the first move, he was the smart one.

She had come to the conclusion he would wait for her, so she turned to Din, seeing that he’d started to pick himself up, and gave him an order. “Take the child, and go.”

He was barely able to hold himself at a seating position, but he gave a nod, beginning to drag himself towards the bird cage sat in the corner atop a barrel.

Bo faced the man head on, taking one step, two, three, and then one more. She struck him hard in the shoulder, and he stumbled back, but didn’t fall. He came back at her with force, blocking her attempt at a kick and using her leg as momentum to send her into the wall. Her back hit the concrete hard, and she nearly lost the air from her lungs, but she wasn’t finished. He came closer, and she feigned lack of awareness long enough to get him right in front of her. From there she let the knee jerk upwards, kicking him between the legs and hearing him groan. He didn’t back off like she’d hoped, and grabbed her fists, holding her to the wall. He used his own knee as a way to mock her, jabbing into her stomach several times until she felt sick. She tried to bend over in hopes it would soothe the pain, but he grabbed her throat, pushing her against the wall once more and looking her straight in the eye.

“You’re weak now, just like you were then.”

And suddenly, the pressure on her throat was gone. The man in front of her stood still, his features becoming like ice, and then he fell to the ground. Bo took in a deep breath, leaning over like she’d intended to earlier. She saw the arrow that had pierced the back of the man before her, and looked up to see Mayfeld rushing to her aid while holding a cross bow. She had never been so grateful to see him.

“Are you alright?” He gave her a hand and helped her to stand straight, looking her over for any additional injuries.

“I’m fine,” she told him, squeezing his hand lightly to assure him what she said was true. “How’s the fight?”

“Bad… she’s losing.”

The last thing Mayfeld saw before coming to find Bo was you getting knocked down, unable to get up for the way Gideon stepped on your chest plate.

Bo looked to the end of the alley, seeing Din holding the child and barely beginning to hobble away. He used the wall to lean against, but she knew they could help him easier. She knew what they needed to do in order for the fight to be turned around.

“She needs to see him,” she muttered, taking steps towards the man as he barely turned the corner. “Hunter..”

He turned as quickly as he could, careful not to drop the kid in the process of doing so.

“Come with me,” she took the child from his hands, handing him off to Mayfeld who followed her over. “Can you walk?”

He tried to push himself away from the wall and take a step, but he nearly fell to his knees. His grunts of pain when Bo caught him meant he was injured to the point of being bed ridden. She hauled him back up, tossing his arm over her shoulder, and began to strong arm him towards the gate of the arena. Hoping that if she could just get him into your view, it would change the ending of this battle.

He groaned with every step they took, but didn’t complain, and kept on towards the entrance, hearing the loud echoes of cheers whilst the competitors fought to the death. He looked down the tunnel, and saw something he hoped he’d never see.

You were on the ground, back against the dirt, while Gideon knelt over top of you. His saber was so close to your face, you felt as if you might catch on fire. Your sword was the only thing standing in the way of your fast approaching death, and you knew you had nothing left in you. You would die at the hands of an evil man, one who may have killed the ones you love, one who abuses his power, and the people he’s supposed to care for.

You looked into his eyes, your scared expression was evident, and he reveled in it. To see the fear in your eyes before he killed you, it felt too good to be true. Everything he’d said and done before this fight was the reason it was going the way it had. You couldn’t focus your power enough to use it, and every time you tried, it only backfired on a worse attack towards you.

“You were my biggest foe, princess, a worthy opponent. I will remember you during the rest of my rule,” he leaned in closer, forcing his blade so close it singed the hair that had been sticking out of it’s binds. You’d lost your helmet about thirty seconds into the battle, and nothing was stopping him from running you through to the ground.

You closed your eyes, ready to except your fate…

“Mesh’la,” the whisper was not even heard aloud, but in your mind. Whatever power you still possessed in you was willing you to hear his words, spoken under his breath and practically into the void.

You opened your eyes, turning your head to catch the sight. The tunnel was opened, and hanging onto Bo Katan was your hunter, the one this was all about. He looked bruised and bloody, but he was here, and he was alive. Standing behind him was Mayfeld, who cautiously held onto your small green child, the one you’d been in companionship with for so long, now. They were both here, and you weren’t going to let them watch you get killed, not at the hands of this man.

Din wasn’t sure how, but he knew you had heard him.

You gathered all the strength in your body and pulled your legs in, kicking his body off of you and back several feet. He was quickly steadied again, as were you, but your stare was no longer afraid, it was determined. This was the gaze he’d been so frightened of before.

You lunged for him, swinging over your head and across your body, hitting his saber multiple times before he tripped and fell back on the ground. You used your power to pull the Dark Saber from his hands and into your own. He barely made it to his knees before you were stood over him, both blades crossed by his throat, waiting to behead him.

He looked up to you, speechless as to how you were able to accomplish this feat. He had always been arrogant, but pride comes before a fall, and his knees could attest to that.

“Last words?”

He swallowed in a shaky manner. Let it not be said that he would die with words unspoken… he’d rather not die at all.

“Allow me to make a deal on my surrender,” he pleaded, begging for the same chance he’d given Bo Katan all those years ago. He may have spared her life, but you weren’t thinking of being so kind in return. Of all the things he’d done, he deserved to die on this field.

You stood still for a moment, and pondered what your terms of a deal may be.

“I offer you two more days, of which you will be beaten until you cannot stand, and starved from any sustenance you may require… sundown on the second day you will be executed,” you stopped for a moment to see the look on his face become even more grim. The man was a shell of himself, and of that you were proud. “Death by hangman’s noose.”

It was comical, really. Two more days to live out the torture he’d put Din through, only to die anyways, in the same way he’d meant for Din to die. He was not going to be permitted to live, because even behind closed bars, he was dangerous… you also knew he would never accept the deal.

“If you will only mock me, do away with me, now.”

The famous last words of King Gideon the ruthless.

The blades crossed each other and slid with ease, ridding the world of the man who ruled this land with tyranny. You’d never killed anyone in your life, but this didn’t feel wrong, it felt empowering. You’d slain the enemy, just as the knights in your stories would slay dragons and viscous beasts that scoured the land.

You heard the crowd erupt once more, and a loud announcement, but you paid no mind to it. You began to run, your slight limp carrying you to the tunnel with which your hunter was waiting. He fell into your arms as Bo let go of his form, and though your strength was again wavering, you held him close as if he were the most important thing in the world. You were too worn to heal him for now, and you might be for a day or two, but you could spend that time taking care of him in other ways, simply being by his side and making sure he was there with you.

The light peering in through the window of the Queen’s suite was only bright enough to make a small beam that reflected onto the ground. It was early morning, but the sun rose earlier here than it did in other parts of the kingdom. The castle always saw the first light.

Din shifted uncomfortably in bed, his shoulders still being the sorest part of him. He was rather broad, like the west mountains that separated Mandalore from the hillside people of Nog. He was broad and strong, but he felt he was anything else at the moment. He tried to sit up, but a pain shot through him and he groaned.

That’s when he saw you, rushing to his aid from a lounge seat that you’d undoubtedly been sleeping on through the night. You gently grabbed his upper arm, trying to get him to lay back down.

“Easy, big guy,” you knew he was probably confused as to where he was, since he’d practically passed out on the horse ride back to the castle, and required major help in getting to your chambers. Everyone insisted he go back to his own, that others could care for him easily there, but you weren’t about to let him out of your sight as long as you could help it. You were a good care taker, yet only one could ever attest to that, and he didn’t talk. “You shouldn’t be up.”

“Did you sleep on the chair?” He responded almost immediately, though it was not what you were thinking he’d say. It was very much like him to be falling apart and in need of constant care, yet being too concerned for your own being to obey your directions. He sat straight up, looking to you for an answer.

“Yes, I wanted to be close to you.”

He furrowed his brow and reached out for you. It hurt the muscles in his body to do so, but he grabbed your hand anyways.

“Could have slept with me, Mesh’la,” he whispered just loud enough to hear, bringing your hand to his mouth for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture but shook your head.

“The physician told me you were not to be disturbed,” you sat down next to him, allowing yourself to disturb him only a little for the sake of your comfort, and the need to feel him beside you. “Everything that happened yesterday, and the day before… it’s almost impossible that you were able to make it out alive.”

“If your plan was to get rid of me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Your soft chuckle was music to his ears, as he’d not heard it in days, and thinking about it was one of the only things keeping him on his feet whilst all he wanted to do was fall. You gripped his hand that was holding yours, squeezing it once before letting go and beginning to get up.

“You should eat something,” you turned to him while pulling on a dressing robe, much thicker than the one you were used to. It would keep you warm until the sun had fully risen, as parts of the castle were freezing in the early morning. “I’ll be back.”

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, just as you had done a few nights prior. That night had been so beautiful, it only made sense that Gideon would have ruined it… but now he was gone for good, and no one would ever be disgraced by him again. You looked back to Din and saw the fave h was giving you. “Please.”

You were a victim of those brown eyes, you swore they’d be the death of you… and what a wonderful way to go. There was no way you’d ever deny him, not when he sat there on your bed, looking like the human personification of softness. You shrugged off your robe, laying it back over the chair it had been in earlier, and crossed the room to where he was sat. You threw up the sheets and blankets and crawled in beside him, laying down on the pillow and looking up at him.

He ran his fingers over the side of your face, tracing the outline of your cheek and jaw, finally reaching down to your neck. There was a burn scar forming there, not even an inch wide but evident enough to him.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, thinking out loud. The words hit your ears and made you smile, which in turn spread a grin across his own face. He hadn’t kissed you since your shared dance on the cobblestones of the castle garden, and he felt he needed to. Leaning down the way he did should have hurt him tremendously, but something about the way your lips met his made all the pain subside. It was quick and gentle, but it sustained him.

You wished for more, but weren’t about to push your bounds, knowing he was definitely still in pain that he would never admit to.

He laid beside you and opened his arms for you to scoot in. It was very improper, for him to hold you this way and under the blankets of your own bed, but it was only you and him, and the door blocking you both from the outside world was not to be crossed by any means. Bo was taking care of everything in the Kingdom for now, as you’d asked her to do so until Din was on his feet. You were the Queen, now… though there was no official coronation, you were acting ruler of Mandalore. It would be a large responsibility, but you felt you were up to the task. Din knew this as well, for he saw the kindness of your heart and the goodness of your mind. All those years of innocence really shaped your outlook on the world, and you still beheld it with beauty. He only hoped that all the horrible things you’d been through wouldn’t give you a bitterness that may oppose your gentle spirit.

The sun kept rising, and the day began… but you and your hunter were tucked away from the busying kingdom, finding rest and comfort in each other after a trial of great proportions.

Tags: @i-ameri-cant@littlemisspascal@fanfics-toread@icanbeyourjedi@castleallherown@mysticalgalaxysalad @princess-prettyy @67impalagirl13@agingerindenial@childrenofthewatch@insomniac-nerd-posts-things@marjoherbo@juletheghoul-main@tiredbuthappy@themand0lorian@janebby@goldielocks2004@yuiopiklmn @oh-no-who-am-i @appleejuice @luxmundee @belovedadam @seninjakitey @harriedandharassed @notsosecretspy

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x princess!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin royalty!au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 1 year

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Politics & Violence

Din Djarin x Jedi!F!Reader

summary: A retelling of S2E8, with a galaxy run by politics and violence is love the only to bend the laws you choose to follow. Inspired by Dominic Fike's song Politics & Violence

masterlist

inspo

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, canon violence and injuries, use of dialogue from The Mandalorian, jedi reader, angst, implied smut, din falls in love, CONTAINS SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE SHOW, takes place during S2E8, din takes off his helmet, HIS NAME IS DIN<3 an: this is a love letter to The Mandalorian, the show that got me through a dark time when I turned 22.

'Helmet stays on'

But the lines get blurred when relationships with any living creature make a home in the Mandalorian's beskar heart. When two Jedi took over his heart, and controlled his mind with every calculated move in the best interest of Grogu and you, the Jedi "princess", yes with quotes because you used air quotes when you introduced yourself to the Mandalorian. The Jedi order fell but you still carry the saber with you.

You stumbled upon the duo and were able to help the child to grow his connection to the force. A friendship grew between you, Grogu, and Din Djarin. You ended up joining the clan of two and becoming a clan of three when you saved Din by sacrificing yourself to a troop of dark troopers.

Defeating them just to collapse to the steel floor of the light cruiser. You couldn't tell where the blaster wound started when you got hit so many times when you dropped your saber in mid-combat when Din was getting his head bashed into the wall. The force wavering from you when your heart sank in your chest when Din was stuck in the hold.

You felt your blood run cold when you finally gathered yourself and pushed any emotion toward Din aside.

"Mm-Mando you have to go find the child," You hiccuped from trying to hold in the tears, Din scans your face and body, seeing bruising and cuts then the giant pool of blood coming from your side. He kneels beside you, resting your head on his thighs plates. You were using every bit of energy to push Din away.

"Go. Don't be afraid," You rasped needing someone to focus on the main objective. The rescue of the child. Of Din's child, of your child. You always cursed yourself for not following the simple rule, no emotional attachments. How could you not get attached to Grogu, he was like a baby and your maternal instinct was being fed and satisfied. And how could you not get attached and fall in love with the Mandalorian, who always got you. Validating your opinions about how things used to run and understanding the way you think. Din Djarin calling you 'pretty' instead of your real name.

Is love the one exception to all laws and politics when it comes to someone's morals? Religion? Creed?

"I'm not leaving you behind, please pretty don't give up now." Din's stutter was emphasized through the modulator. He held your body close to his chest, feeling your body feel cold with most of the blood going to the wound. Din adds pressure to slow the bleeding, you let out a debilitating scream. Your head was spinning and you tried to focus on looking at Din's visor.

Din is scrambling for your med pack from your utility belt. Injecting the bacta into your stomach as close to the wound as he could without causing you more distress. You cough when the bacta hits your bloodstream, your body warms up again. Din sobbed out, reaching for his helmet, your eyes grow wide when you see the skin of his jaw, and quickly stop him from taking it off.

"No, not for me," You whispered, Din squeezed his eyes shut and shed the hot tears and sweat. He looks down at you and if you could see the admiration coming through. Willing to break his creed because you saved him, you made him feel complete, and you were the one to listen to him talk about how no one can ever fall in love with the state of the galaxy is in. Giving him a sense of family and domestic bliss.

You selflessly never asked him to show his face to you, even that night on Naboo when you and him were sharing a bed at an expensive and luxurious inn. You had a little too much to drink. A little wine and dine from Din since it was the anniversary of meeting each other. Grogu was asleep in the living room part of the suite. You thought 'Oh what the hell' when you were pinned underneath Din and made love in the dim light coming from the moons in the sky.

Isn't it lovely to fall in love with another closed-off person?

"I'll meet up with Bo and the rest of them, go find Grogu," You winced as you stood up and pretended your whole left side wasn't on fire. Din rests his gloved hand on your lower back, you reach behind to push it away and take off to the control room.

You lean against one of many control panels, trying to prepare for another fight, sensing it when Din brings in Moff Gideon and the...the dark saber in his other hand. You watched Bo's face fall and eyes grow wide. Cara is showing relief that Grogu is back with Din, everyone staring at the dark saber in Din's hand.

You swallowed down another pain shooting down your body.

"Come on, just take it-" Din still did not understand the politics around the saber. Alarms go off when the fleet of dark troopers that Din let go out of the cargo bay comes back for one last fight. Din turns to see you staring right at the dark saber in his hands.

How could he be so smart about fighting but can't comprehend the heavy metal in his hands?

Metal hitting metal is rapidly coming from the doors, everyone reaching for their weapons and you reach for your lightsaber that failed you once and you were wielding for it not to happen again. Purple hues paint your silhouette. Grogu is perking up when the X-wing flies in and the punching stops. You look at the child and your skin prickles when you see a Jedi walk down the halls.

Din looks at you and then at Grogu, your breathing was evening out and the force was strong. You and Din crowd the monitor watching the Jedi crave their way through the dark troopers. Grogu whines to you and Din.

"I said, open the doors," Din carries Grogu away and sits in a chair, the Jedi emerges from the smoke and pulls back their cloak.

"Are you a Jedi?"

"I am,"

"He doesn't want to go with you," Din mutters and looks at the Jedi. Grogu was staring at Din with stars in his eyes when Din picked him up to say goodbye. You watched Din hold the child with such tenderness and care. Your heart was beating out your chest, hearing Din tear up.

He's showing emotions. Showing he has an emotional attachment to the kid.

"I'll see you again...I promise..." Din lets Grogu touch the helmet before pulling it up and off his head. You gasp and look away, staring out the windows and seeing the different stars float by.

"Alright pal, it's time to go...don't be afraid," Din's voice was so much deeper and just so crisp, you could feel your face blush at the last 3 words he said. His voice was relaxed you and made you melt. You could see Grogu leave in your peripheral, seeing the outline of Din's back. You blinked away the tears when Grogu transmitted a goodbye to you.

He broke his creed for his son. He always has to be so tragically beautiful with his actions. You felt conflicted about how he was willing to take the helmet in front of all of these humans. Willing to break his creed for his loved ones. After all the violence maybe Din was ready to settle down with you, leave the creed and bounty hunting behind. Just having a life with you and Grogu by his side.

Everyone takes a brief pause and starts gathering the next of plans. Din turns around to look at you, your back was turned and you were doubled over tending to your wounds. His heavy boots carried him over to you.

The shadow of his frame cascades over you.

"Look at me, pretty," Din whispers in your ear, you shake your head and bite down on your lip to stop a sob from escaping.

"I can't, I will not do that to you," You croaked, Din laid a kiss behind your ear and rested his head on top of yours. He doesn't care about the creed at the moment, not after what happened to you earlier in the mission.

"I need you to look at me, I want you to...please." Din sucks in a breath and holds it when you stand up straight and lean your back against his chest plate, feeling the stubble rub in your hair. You dreamed of maybe one day seeing his face but at what cost? He thought you were going to depart ways, maybe he should save it for the day the violence kills you.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal is the mandalorian #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader

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oonajaeadira · 2 years

Text

LOSING MY RELIGION: CHAPTER 13: THE EXCHANGE

Rating: Mature for series, lighter for this chapter.

Pairing: Post Season 2 Din Djarin x force sensitive reader (fem, post-Order 66 Jedi). Soft, slow burn on both sides, internal struggles and feels. Alternating POV.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, culture shock/differences, Din pushing authority a bit, jealousy, and a whole lot of private feelings burning hot in a public place. A/N: If you’re still reading, thank you so much for your patience. I had to do a little soul searching and make the decision to let Din and Little Bird follow the path that the story calls for. It took me a while to let canon go, but this chapter hit me very unexpectedly. There are beats in this story that weren’t there when I first mapped it out and surprised the hell out of me when I realized where it was leading. The road ahead is a little twisty for Din and LB, but the story always goes where it needs to, when it needs to.

Senaar’ika = Little bird.

There’s more Mando’a spoken, but the translation is eventually given in the storytelling.

Summary: You and Din broker a very important exchange.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up at my MASTERLIST

←-Previous Chapter 12: The Camp

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PART 1: DIN DJARIN

Your helmet stands out among the others down below and Din tracks your path through the Tusken camp from his perch on an outcropping of a cliff face above. You’re not going to like this, but it’s the best solution he’s got.

“We’re on a mission here to acquire some resources and take someone into custody,” he explains to his comrade. “The negotiations aren’t something I can hurry along. How much time can you give us.”

Fennec sits with one knee popped up and stares into the distance out over the dunes, her eyes squinting more in calculation than from the bright suns on the sand. She’s a warrior he’s come to respect–a renegade turned team-player--even beyond her capabilities that could land her easily among the best of Mandalorian soldiers and make her a queen among bounty hunters, she’s evolved beyond her need for the Empire. Her ready repayment for a life saved, her loyalty to Boba Fett–and, by extension, himself–is noble in a way he can truly admire. “I can hail at first light tomorrow.”

“The whole day? That’s generous.”

With a half chuckle, the ex-assassin absently tosses away a stone she’s been rolling between her fingers, letting it clack over the clifftop. “What can I say? One of my many qualities.”

Even as his mind works, Din’s absent focus stays on you in the shadow of the rock face, sitting with the child he assumes is the force-sensitive. For some reason, he thought the child would be smaller, but he looks to be halfway to adulthood by his height. Definitely not gonna fit on the speeder with both of you. “The mechanic. Peli Motto. She’s unharmed?”

“Fine for now. They’re keeping her under lockdown but they’re not torturing her.”

“Good,” he huffs with a sardonic laugh. If Peli has guards set on her, then they’re the ones who are probably begging for release right about now. Tapping a few buttons on his vambrace and checking his nav for coordinates and distances, he calculates the time it will take to pack up, get to the drop off, and arrive at the Palace. Of course there will be a pit stop to refuel the speeder, get in a midday meal, exchange pleasantries, ask for favors….

“This would be a whole lot easier if she’d come out to us.”

“Wouldn’t it though. No dice, Mando. Boss hailed back–Bo won’t open herself up to attack. Insists on meeting at the Palace.” Her black eyes glitter behind the open slice of her helmet. “If you want to get in some target practice, we could stash your partner and the quarry somewhere in town and take down the garrison, grab the ship and go. Avoid her completely. Could be fun.”

“It’s only dragging this scenario out. She’s not going to let this go. She’ll just follow us somewhere else; somewhere I don’t have options.”

“I suppose the boss wouldn’t like me disobeying an order either. Ah well,” she sighs back onto her elbows, “buys your friend a little vacation, hm?”

Dank farrik. You’re not going to like this.

To be honest, he doesn’t either.

“You didn’t catch the name of her companion? And it’s not Koska?”

Laying back onto the sun-warmed rock and closing her eyes as her head lands in the cradle of her hands, Fennec hums in thought. “No, it sounds like Koska might be leading the garrison at the docking bay. The Mando that came with Bo Katan definitely isn’t her.”

“Hmm. First light then. I appreciate your help.”

Stretching out like a cat, content to take in the morning suns after a cold evening in the desert, Fennec has nowhere to go and nothing to do as long as Din isn’t following her back to the Palace. “Patience is a virtue. Bo Katan can use the lesson.”

________________

PART 2: YOU

“That’s good, Uli-ah. Now can you do both stones at once? Try to swap their positions.”

Taking refuge in the shadows by the cliff face and sitting in the sand across from the Tusken foundling, you watch as two pieces of desert shale lift from their positions by the boy’s knees, come together in the air and bump only a little awkwardly before passing at nose level. One of them drops and breaks while the other makes its way to its new spot.

It’s hard.

“Yes, it is, and you almost did it. That’s actually very very good. You must practice often.”

No. I’m not allowed. It frightens the mothers. I make things dance for the other kids sometimes if the mothers can’t see.

“You keep bringing up ‘the mothers.’ Is one of them yours?”

They all are.

“The children are raised by the clan.”

Drawing his knees up and under his chin, Uli-ah hugs himself in tight, burying his face, becoming a little desert-colored ball. It’s not that he goes silent as much as he shows you ideas, images, emotions, everything you need to understand that he is not assigned to one family like the other children are. Uli-ah does not answer to one set of parents or any one mother or father in particular. He is protected by everyone but advocated for by nobody. He learns as part of a group, but is never given wisdom as passed down from parent to child.

He is alone in a crowd.

It’s a wonder that the child hasn’t grown to be dispondend or wild, surprising that he’s quiet and respectful. But it isn’t that he’s neglected or uncared for. Din’s words from the night before begin to stir. The Tuskens aren’t like Mandalorians. He’ll never be paired and never asked to join the fire. He will never truly be one of them.

“How old are you, Uli-ah? How long have you lived among the clan?”

He doesn’t lift his head, his fingers only dig into the cloth of his leg coverings.

Five years I think. There have been five water cycles.

Only five? This tall, gangly, capable child? The answer slams into you and before you can control your surprise it rebounds on him, his hands balling up in fists as yet another adult finds him strange and unusual.

“Hey, hey, hey, friend,” reaching over to his shaking shoulder and laying a warm hand upon it, “it’s okay. That’s a good answer. You’ve learned so much in your young life, I’m only surprised you’re not a little older. You’re very smart and talented for your age.”

The touch, your tone, your praise causes him to bring his head slowly up, his helmet shielding his expression, but his sinking shoulders telling you all you need to know.

“I know some other younglings like you, with abilities like yours. They go to a school for people like us. I could take you to them if that’s what you’d like. But you’d have to leave your home behind. Everything will be new. It’s a long way from here.”

I don’t know what a school is.

“It’s a place where you learn. A training place where someone teaches you how to master your skills. Would you like that?”

Stillness. You can sense a little turmoil, all his thoughts tumbling around without a good tried-and-true way to organize them. This is why the Jedi used to take them as babies; it’s a lot to ask any child. Too young in their development and they’re bonded to their family. Old enough to make the decision and it may be too late to hone their abilities. Five though. Five is so young for such a big decision.

I...would like that. Except….

Uli-ah’s helmet spans slowly, taking in the camp, the sands, the wavering heat at the horizon…

Is it…hotter there? It’s so hot here. Sometimes I can’t breathe.

Is that what he’s worried about? “It’s warm there, but there’s water. Green things. Trees. I suppose you’ve never seen trees. They’re hard to explain–”

I remember trees.

Something about this violently shifts your heart. To be so young and still have fleeting memories of a different place, perhaps a home he once knew….and you find yourself putting your arms around the young force-sensitive, taking no offense to the fact that he does not have any experience of how to embrace you back. ________________

“Well? What did you find out, Captain?”

The midday Tusken meal is taken in the privacy of their tents and that means bringing two bowls of black melon gruel back to your campsite. Din’s made a makeshift lean-to out of your blankets and the speeder–a place to have a little shelter from the high suns and to remove your helmets for the meal–and you hand the bowls off under a flap so that you can crouch and crawl through to the snug space, taking a seat knee to knee with him in the cooler patch of shaded desert.

The surprise is that his helmet already rests in the sand by his hip. His jaw is set, his eye determined. He holds the bowls patiently, waiting as you remove your own bucket.

Something tells you you’re not going to like what he has to say.

“Bo Katan Kryze is here on Tatooine. She’s holed up in the local tradelord’s palace with some of her followers and she has others posted at our docking bay with the Crest in custody.”

“Peli–” you start, but he shakes his head, handing your bowl over.

“She’s okay. They’re just not letting her leave the terminal.”

Suddenly, you couldn’t be less hungry. “Why is Kryze here? For you?”

“Mmyeah,” he says, smacking his lips and squinting after a sip of the bitter broth. “Technically, she’s probably here for the Darksaber. Been tracking us for a while.”

“I thought you told her you weren’t going to fight her.”

“I’m not. But I have to go. She’s causing trouble until I get there. I’m not going to inconvenience my friends over this. I’ve got to go and deal with it.”

There a quick spike of bitterness in your gut from something other than the melon gruel. But you don’t need to feel anything from him to sense his irritation as a valley forms between his eyebrows and he downs more of the broth.

Joining him in your silent meal, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the bowl, you know him too well. There’s something he’s not telling you; it’s best to just keep sipping until he gains the courage. It takes longer than you expect and it’s not until he puts down the empty bowl that he meets your eyes. “You’re not coming with me.”

“What? You’re just going to leave me here? Din, the Darksaber–”

“No,” is what he says, but what he means is Quiet. Let me speak. “The kid you’re talking to. Tell me what’s happening there first.”

Damn. You can sense your Mandalorian is begging you with his whole being to cooperate, and the last thing you want is a fight. “You’re right. He’ll never be one of them. They’ve adopted him into their numbers but not into a family. He’s got an astounding amount of ability and talent for his age...and that’s another thing. He says he’s only five.”

“What?” Shock washes over him in a mirror of your own. “Huh. So. Not human then.”

“No. Being so tall, I thought maybe Kaminoan, but too many fingers. Maybe Weequay. Possibly Wookiee, but I can’t imagine living under all that covering and fur besides. Although he did say it was too hot here…” Stay on topic. “He’s open to going to Luke’s school.”

He sighs. His eyes close and squeeze. The news is expected, but not favored.

“That means we’re back on the clock,” he grumbles as he locks his gaze to yours again. “So it’s my job to make sure you’re both safe. I’m not leaving you here with the Tuskens and I’m not bringing the kid into a palace crawling with power hungry Mandalorians. We’re taking a detour to a mining settlement. I have a friend there. Maybe he can give you two a place to stay for a night or more.”

“Din, why–”

“Speeder won’t carry us all, so Fennec’s gonna help us out. We head out at first light. I’ve already spoken to the elders about that pearl–”

“Wait. You need me with you. That saber–”

“Senaar’ika.” Din doesn’t speak Mando’a often. His whisper stills your tongue. “I’ve spoken to the elders about the pearl. They have an imperfect one they’re prepared to trade if you’re willing to build a saber for them.” When you blink incredulously he explains, “I showed them the Darksaber and what it can do. They can use it for cutting. For defense. It makes glass from the sand and lights fires. It would be a valuable tool for them. I know…” he swallows, “I know it’s an insult to your order. To make a lightsaber for…base reasons…”

It’s risky, putting such a powerful weapon in the hands of those not trained to use it. They could badly harm someone. Or wield it to embolden an attack on innocents. But perhaps you could temper it, shorten the blade, make sure it can’t be used to cause too much harm….

“I’ll do it.” It’s a rough trade, but it will do. And you’re glad to see that he nods, relieved, quick to take up your offer. “Depending on the size of the pearl, a shard of it could power many lightsabers. And I’m happy to make something that’s useful to them.”

“Good. Then while you’re doing that, I’ll negotiate for the child.” He holds up a hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I know. But the women of this clan don’t have final say and you’re not allowed to talk with the men. Trust me. I know what they need to hear.”

If the burn in your cheeks didn’t signal frustration as he takes the lead away from you, then your frown most certainly does. But he’s right. He’s right about everything. Except…

“I don’t want you to leave me behind in the mining settlement. I know you can wield that saber, Din, but my being with you will boost your power with it. It feeds so highly on your emotions. Having someone you love nearby can only help…”

“I understand,” he says, softly. He’s already replacing his helmet, readying himself to go retrieve the pearl so you can get to work. “But you don’t have to be standing next to me to be the one thing I can’t stop thinking about, Little Bird.”

And he slips out of the makeshift shelter, leaving you with cold broth and a pounding heart. ________________

The pearl is about the size of Din’s fist, definitely from a young krayt, and it takes you a little time to figure out how to fracture it without wasting any. Your own lightsaber is up to the task to hew a sliver of it away and you’re able to ascertain that even this small portion holds enough force energy to power a short blade. It will be more unstable than your own kyber, but less mercurial than the Darksaber; a fine beginner’s blade if not a tad loud.

The new utility saber is a good tool, sturdy, powerful. You’re adjusting the final resonance when Din rounds the speeder bike. He’s been gone a good part of the day and the suns sit on his shoulders, winking off his armor, causing you to squint up at him even through your visor to ask, “Well? How’d it go?”

Settling into one hip, his hands come up to rest on his belt and he juts the chin of his helmet at the weapon in your hand. “You got enough to make another one?”

“That’s their offer?”

“That’s their offer.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh as you lock in the final calibrations, your neck and shoulders aching from working half the afternoon on a blanket in the baking sands. “Yeah. More than enough parts. Time though, that’s another issue. I just,” one last twist of the mico-spanner, a click as the final panel fits into place, you toss the finished hilt to him, “I can’t believe that a little boy is worth the same amount to them as a dragon’s gut rock.”

Din catches the piece, ignites the blade, turns it, twists it through the air to hear its low feral howling, then hits the power switch, dimming its vibrating emerald light. “Well, not even as much. Pearl cost us one of these and the rest of our water.” When you make a face he adds, “We should be fine until we reach Mos Pelgo. We can get more there.”

“The water’s not the detail I’m unhappy about.”

Taking a quiet assessment of the mess in front of you–the scattered scrap metal and bits of pearl, the wires and tools and sand, always so much sand–the realization that you’ll have to start all over again and work into the evening is suddenly exhausting.

Even if he's not a force-user, you can see that Din picks up on this and you close your eyes as he moves around and takes a seat on the blanket behind you. After removing your pauldrons, his gloved fingers work into your shoulders and neck, deliciously limbering you, stretching out all the constriction, smoothing down all the coils. Even if it is more military restoration than it is gentle relaxation, it’s what he knows, his way of giving care.

A water bladder lands in your lap. “You haven’t been drinking.”

He’s right. And you take a long draw as his hands pull and prod your muscles, untangling the mess you’ve made of them, letting him heal you and do his bit to protect you from as much hurt as he can.

It isn’t the touch you truly long for–his gloves and your flight suit keep his fingertips from gliding over your skin, your helmets prevent his lips from kissing the back of your neck, beskar and leather cover the chest you so badly would like to sink back into. The way he has twisted your fingers in his own, or dragged his nose behind your ear, or leveraged your thigh with one of his own… It seems a sin that you are being given the gift of his touch and his care and yet, greedy and selfish, you would wish for more.

But perhaps you’re not the only selfish one here. His hands finally flatten out, firm kneading becomes gentle soothing, palms eventually sliding down to cradle your elbows as the ting of his helmet meets the back of your own, and you feel the broad frame behind you slowly fill with air and expel it in a fashion that, had it carried sound, may have been a soft whine.

How gracefully your hearts dance together. How far you’ve both traveled to meet here in this place.

“You should take a break; get up and move around.” Flaying himself from you, Din stands and holds out a gentle hand, beckoning. “Come on. I’d like to meet the kid.”

________________

Uli-ah works with a few of the other children, almost completely swallowed in bantha fur as they hold up one of the beast’s feet while a herder inspects it. Once that foot has been deemed healthy, the children race to the next foot, jostling and braying laughter as they vie for space to help pick up the next paw while the bantha merely shifts its weight and chews its cud.

Din sits by your side in the hot sand, waiting quietly while the children and the herder finish their task, and then Uli-ah runs your way, ending in a skid on his knees as he comes to a stop almost in your lap.

The elders say I’m going away with you.

“That’s right. We will be leaving at first light tomorrow. Are you ready for an adventure?”

The child bounces on his knees, braying his own kind of laughter, not quite Tusken, but certainly not human.

“I guess that’s a yes,” you laugh, then point to Din. “This is our Captain. He’ll be with us. He flies the ship and protects us.”

The bouncing stops then, and Uli-ah makes a half move, as if he’s going to hide from the Mandalorian behind you, except that Din’s hands cut through the air as he speaks.

“I’ll make sure. You’re safe.”

There’s a slow, renewed interest from Uli-ah as he realizes that he can communicate with this stranger and he raises his own hands into gesture.

You can speak with your hands.

Din chuckles, signs back. “Yes. I’ve talked with your people. For a long time.”

There’s a wave of relief that comes over the boy, some kind of calm knowledge that “his people” are changing, that you and Din will be his people soon.

Then his hands clap and flutter excitedly–

I’m going to go to school!!!!

–before he tosses himself backward onto the sand in a moment of youthful glee.

You don’t know what lifts your heart more, this display of joy, or the sound of Din’s quiet laughter–light and welcoming and calm–coming through the comm.

In the morning every mother in the clan will touch the child’s head as they pass by him in a line. All the men will gather in a group and shout a message of farewell before turning back to their herd. But on the back of the speeder, it is you that Uli-ah will hold tightly. And even before that, it is Din who will help him get situated on the seat, check him over to make sure he’s secure, pat him kindly on the back, and tell him there’s nothing to fear.

Your Mandalorian’s come to understand that there are some who can see through the beskar to the good man underneath. And you can see he’s starting to believe it himself.

Some beliefs, it seems, can take a long time to crack. But belief can also nourish a man in the desert and show a warrior that his milder moments can house another form of strength.

Ahsoka really did choose well for you. And the Darksaber chose well for itself.

________________

It’s taking all of your concentration to keep the speeder bike at a steady velocity as you whip through the canyon. What you wouldn’t do for a cup of caf.

The second saber build had gone smoother than the first since you had duplicates of many of the same pieces and were able to put something together more easily, but you’d still worked past twilight and then there was packing up the speeder and joining the group for evening meal….

After that, you’d lain awake, curled into Din, listening to his shallow breathing, trying to come up with a valid argument for going with him, each excuse a play more desperate than the one before it. You actually entertained the thought of removing the kyber from the Darksaber while he slept--your most clever plan yet. Except for the fact that the weapon was entirely sealed and getting into it would cause more damage than your honor would let you make.

He’s the Mand’alor. The High Leader. Whether he likes it or not, if he won’t fight or let anyone best him, then he must take up the mantle. If the Mandalorians are gathering, he can’t fail to steer their ship. There’s so much he has to learn about the weapon. Also so much he has to learn about asking for assistance. You think there has to be someone who can tell him this, make him understand how much his level head and moral compass and loyalty to his people are needed. Someone who can teach him to wield the instrument of his leadership….

But your hour of denial is over. Because there is someone.

It’s you.

But who are you to him? You are not his advisor. Not a member of his sect. Not even his…for lack of a better word…queen….

“Used the wrong word. Called you my queen instead of woman. I tried to correct myself and they asked me who you ruled over.”

“Ah. And you said, ‘just me.’”

“Yep.’”

“What did I say about burning out the repulsors, Little Bird?” Din’s voice cuts through your thoughts into your earpiece, bringing your focus back to the task at hand, and you ease off on the throttle so Fennec’s speeder can catch up to yours.

From the moment the suns broke the horizon, Uli-ah has been attached to you–literally refusing to loosen his clutch of your flight suit–the realization sinking in that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known and keeping close to the best constant he has. So it only made sense that he’d ride with you, and Din would pair with Fennec.

She’s an intimidating one, Fennec Shand. Din mentioned that she’d been an assassin for hire in the Imperial days, that he’s never known anyone who can beat her skill or match her tenacity. And you believe him; she has eyes like a lothcat and a body like a loaded pulse rifle, always watching, seemingly always ready to strike. But there’s a sparkle to her too, an allure that draws you in like bait for the snare.

He’s known her longer than you. The bond between them is strong. A bond between friends, between warriors. You can sense his high regard for her. He’s holding onto her waist so nonchalantly…

Well this is a new feeling. You shake it off and find a constructive distraction.

“How are you doing back there, padawan?”

This is fun! It goes so fast! What’s a padawan?

“It’s an old word. It means you are in training to be a master of the powers you have. The old word for those powers was ‘force,’ and they called the masters Jedi.”

You are Jedi?

“Well. Something like that.” Leaning the speeder around a curve in the canyon, you similarly bend the subject. “You’re going to join other kids like you. I can’t wait for you to meet Shiari and Grogu. They’re gonna be so happy to have a new friend.”

It would be easy to miss it over the whine of the speeder bike–a soft sigh. You keep forgetting that the comm is open. And any mention of Grogu is always bittersweet for Din.

He misses the little one so much. It’s evident that he’s happy that Grogu’s safe and learning, that he’s where things are best for him. But it still twists your heart. Din went from being alone to being a father at hyper warp–taking to it like a Gungan to water–and something about that makes you smile.

Grogu’s ability to charm the mighty warrior. Din’s sleeping heart opening for him, blooming like a hundred-year codaflower in Grogu’s warm spring. Except for the danger of his lifestyle, Din makes a good father. Any kid would be lucky to have him. Even beyond your feelings for him, his devotion makes it an honor to be serving the mission with him.

“Little Bird.”

Oops. “Sorry. Just wanna get there, I guess,” your excuse is accompanied by the return to a manageable speed. Again.

“We’ll be hitting Mos Pelgo soon. Don’t tear up the town on your way in.”

“Telling me what not to do only tests my willful streak, Your Highness.”

“I’m aware.” There’s a low warning in his voice, but also a smirk. “I’m willing to make it an order if that’s the motivation you need.”

Slowly swiveling your visor in his direction, you watch as he does the same to you. A playful tease.

“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

And without turning away, you punch the throttle, defiantly taking the lead, Uli-ah roaring in excitement behind you even as he holds on for dear life. ________________

Mos Pelgo is a quiet settlement, barely big enough to be called anything other than an outpost. Moisture farms flicker in and out of the distance through the waves of heat in a constellation surrounding a one-street center, a short line of earthen structures topped in domes and rods, connected by a boardwalk lifted off the dusty path. The few dust-coated people out and about stop and stare as you coast by, involuntarily shrinking back away from the path. Not that you can blame them. They seem peaceful and it’s not surprising that they might be startled by a band of armored strangers coming in, a Tusken in their mix. Din mentioned that the townsfolk might be wary of Tuskens, but assured that his friend Cobb would vouch for the kid.

What he didn’t tell you is that once they saw his armor, they would lift their hands in a friendly wave. It seems they know him here.

Pulling up outside a cantina, the four of you peel yourselves from your seats with varying degrees of stretching and sighing, your spine aching to be upright and your feet thankful for a chance to be on solid ground. Din and Fennec head up the stairs and you start to follow, but there’s a tug at your elbow.

Is this the school?

“Not yet. We have to travel a long long way, but the Captain has to do a job first and he can’t protect us for the next couple of days. We’re going to stay here with a friend where it’s safe.”

If a Tusken mask can look baleful, Uli-ah achieves it with a long, slow look up and down the settlement path.

“Hey. I promised you a school and you’re going to get one. We might not get there for a while, but you’ll be with me the whole way and guess what.”

You’ll teach me?

“You bet I will. I told you you were smart. You wanna go inside and see if our new friend is there?”

Yes.

Steps are a new concept and Uli-ah takes a cautious step up, and up again, bringing one foot up to meet the other before continuing onto the next. At the top, he considers the short flight of two whole stairs, then steps back down and down. Then he takes the steps one at a time, up and down. Once he runs up a third time you catch him around the shoulders before he can give it another go and give him a playful jostle, guiding him inside as he squeezes his fists in victorious joy.

After the glare of the desert, it’s comparatively dark in the cantina, so you instinctively pull off your helmet.

This is your first mistake.

And sets off a chain of events.

Uli-ah, not accustomed to your helmetless face, stops behind you in the entryway.

Mother, you’re–

He shrieks.

It’s unsafe, mother!

Before you can course correct–calm him or apologize for shifting culture so quickly or even take the time to correct his default of name for you–the Weequay behind the counter reacts fiercely to the the child, pointing and shouting–

“Out! We don’t want trouble here! We have a pact! Out!”

“No, wait–” Din turns sharply to the barkeep, but the damage has been done and the child bolts awkwardly from the cantina out into the light, smashing his shoulder against the port frame as he goes and wailing his way down the boardwalk.

You make a quick gesture to Din as you follow–it’s okay, I’ll get him–and leave your Mandalorian to locating his friend.

By the time you get eyes on him, Uli-ah’s a couple of buildings away–poor boy must be so confused right now–when a tall, old man steps out from one of them, seemingly summoned by the commotion, and the two collide, the boy falling off the boardwalk into the dust, then trying to scramble backward, all heels and palms and elbows.

The man’s good natured, going after the boy and trying to help him up, but it only scares him more. “Whoa there. Hey. Hey there, kid, it’s alright. I’m not tryin’ to hurt you.” Once he gets the boy up and starts dusting him off, Uli-ah struggles to break free, but the man easily holds him, kneeling down to the kid’s level to keep from being a threat. “Hey hey hey. It’s okay. You lost son? Where’s your tribe?”

“I’m so sorry. He’s under my care.” As you converge with them and take Uli-ah’s hand, the child turns and slams into you, hiding his face in your side, holding on with shaking hands. “It’s okay, padawan. Nothing’s gonna happen to you if you stick with me, okay?”

Your second mistake was assuming the man is elderly on account of his grey hair and beard, but when you hold a hand out to help him up, you’re greeted by lively dark eyes and a particularly wry and charming grin. Oh yes, he takes your hand, but puts no weight on it as he stands, only holds it firmly, a handshake that is warm but…unending.

“Ma’am,” he says respectfully, but with a rather rakish sparkle to it, and you catch sight of the stripes on his belt. A Republic Ranger. A welcome sight out here for you, but might cause problems for Din. “You and your friend are new faces around here. I’m the marshal. How can I assist you?”

“I’m, ah, I’m,” stars, that’s some smile. ”I’m here with my partner and his associate. We’re looking for a friend of his. There was a misunderstanding at the cantina and my charge here got a little scared.”

“Well, let’s go see if we can sort this out. If I might escort you…” Instead of releasing your hand, he draws it smoothly under and around his forearm, and in your shock–a little bemused, a little offended–your final mistake is allowing it. And so in this manner, you arrive back at the Cantina, arm in arm with the marshal, pulling Uli-ah along by the hand.

“There he is,” the Weequay nods to your trio as two helmets turn.

“Heard there was a misunderstanding in here with this pretty lady and the young one, is that the way of things, Weequay?”

“Yes, Marshal, my misunderstanding. Won’t happen again.”

The marshal, nodding, turns his attention to Din and Fennec. “Welcome back, Mando. These two belong to you?”

Ah. So you’ve run into the man Din was looking for. All should be well, but something feels off. Din stands still, squared to the three of you, feet in a wide, stable stance. His answer is taking a long time to come. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was in confrontation mode, as if he was going to have to make a tactical move at any second. It’s easy to assume for a moment that perhaps these two aren’t as friendly as you were led to believe.

But the assumption and the tension break as the Mandalorian steps forward to the marshal, each clasping the others’ forearm in a brotherly handshake, “Vanth” and “Mando” exchanged with nods, and a bonus smile on Cobb’s part. Friends indeed then.

Stretching out with your feelings though, there’s an anomaly rolling around in Din, something faintly protective. Something that’s bitten off by his terse, “Yes. These two are mine.”

When the marshal drops your hand and swaggers loose and lanky over to a nearby table, it’s only then that Din’s muscles relax, that he shifts slowly to one hip, that his hand leaves off the habitual hover near his blaster and hooks itself into his belt.

It’s all you can do not to gape.

You’ve never seen Din jealous before.

But that seems to be melting swiftly as he takes a seat by his friend. Cobb Vanth orders a full round from the proprietor, and leans forward over the table, grinning a whole galaxy full of teeth in the mirror of Din’s visor and declares, “Sure would like to know what skugbunny you followed to find yourself all the way out here again.”

________________

Fennec stands in the light, her svelte figure like a knife stuck in the sand, finding less commotion outside where she can send a communique to her boss. You can hardly blame her; Cobb is a loud talker and Uli-ah has found distraction in a pair of sabacc dice which he throws over and over, clattering across the table as he plays a game he’s making up on the spot, cheating against himself every once in a while with a subtle force push of a die, although you’re the only one who notices.

After his economical explanation to Cobb, Din passes his glass to you, something he does often now in public places, allowing you to drink what he cannot. “What I’m looking for is shelter for my partner and her charge here. Refills on supplies. Fuel. I’m willing to pay.”

“So what’s the favor then?” The marshal squints, taking a swig of his spotchka.

“I want no harm to come to these two,” Din says, tilting his helmet in your direction. “I’m bound to protect them, but I need to go take care of something. Should be back within a day.”

“So you’re looking for a security detail,” he says, finishing the cup. “You got it. No problem. I’ll look after them personally.” A cheeky wink punctuates the offer.

That odd twinge rises in Din again, like smoke from a too hot fire, and you lay a hand on his knee under the table. “Uli-ah and I won’t cause you any trouble, marshal. This seems like a peaceful place you keep here. We should be able to manage alright.”

Cobb misinterprets your polite decline of babysitting as an act of humble courtesy. “It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. We don’t have any public lodgings here in Freetown, but I’ve got a room. It’s yours. Nowhere safer.”

There’s nothing to say that wouldn’t seem rude.

“That’s…very generous. The boy and I are grateful for a place to stay.”

“Right then,” Cobb slaps his hand on the table, using it to push him up off his chair. “I’ll go scare up some water reserves for your journey.”

There’s silence at the table when he leaves, broken only by the rattle of dice on its surface as Uli-ah tries over and over again to break his top score. Din stares off after the marshal, but hesitates to follow. Something’s on his mind.

You wager a guess.

“Din. We’ll be okay. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

“I’m not…jealous.”

You squeeze his knee. “This could all be avoided if you let us come with you–”

“No.” He finally draws in a long breath, exhales, and turns the visor to you. “I want you safe. You’ll stay here. That’s an order.”

“An…order?”

“We’re on the job and I call the shots when it comes to your safety.”

“Yes, but–”

There’s movement outside at the speeders, a woody thud and scrape as a water camtono is deposited and then picked up from the boardwalk.

He doesn’t let you finish, standing and holding out a hand to help you up. “I’ve got to get the supplies packed in.”

Something’s turned off in him. The courtesy’s there, but he’s doing his best to control his emotions....

To hide them from you.

“Come on, Uli-ah. We’ll see the Captain off and then we’re going to stay with Marshal Vanth for a couple of days, okay?” By the time you tear the youngling away from his new toys, the corner of Din’s cape is disappearing out the door.

Kriff. This is bad. Something’s wrong and he can’t leave like this. He can’t take this uncertainty with him.

Taking a seat on a crate while they prep Fennec’s speeder, you just stay out of the way and observe. Cobb chatters cheerfully at the assassin, bringing out supplies from the storehouse, exchanging old tarps for new, handing over a fuel hose. But Din keeps out of the conversation, silently busies himself with a last minute tune up of the vehicle.

He’s removed his packs from Fennec’s bike–both to facilitate a more strategic repack and to access a panel behind one of the side compartments–and they sit propped up against the boardwalk nearby.

That’s it.

There’s something you need to do.

Sidling over to his packs and reaching out with your feelings, you search for the thrum of kyber. There it is. It’s easy to locate the Darksaber and extract it from the pack. You place it in your lap, covering it with the end of your tunic.

Uli-ah’s found some whomp rats living under the boardwalk and you watch as he plays with them, running to one side when they do, and trying to beat them to the other side when they change course.

After a short while, Din closes up the hatches and reattaches the spanner to its flank seating. Then he makes his way over to you, silently retrieves his packs, and returns to the speeder, taking a long time tying them down.

It’s only when everything’s ready to go and there’s nothing more to keep him away, he comes back and lays a hand on your cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Leaning into his hand and trapping it with one of your own, you hold up the Darksaber with the other. “You need to concentrate, Din.” His short, frustrated sigh only pushes your resolve further. “You’re not the only one with a duty of care, mister. This blade is tricky and you need all the help you can get.”

“I’ll be okay, Little Bird.”

“Not if you leave in the state you’re in. I know you’re not angry at me, but you’re uncomfortable leaving me here and you can’t leave like that. This weapon,” you whisper urgently, pressing the hilt into his palm, “won't listen to you unless your feelings are sharp. You’ll need its emotional boost to tap its whole potential and gain mastery over it. I can’t send you off like this. I won’t. I need you to know you have nothing to worry about.”

He’s silent for a moment, choosing his words. “I’m not worried. Not about you.”

He means it, you can hear it, but he’s still not content with leaving you. It’s not just another man finding you attractive, there’s something in him that’s warring. Not quite fear, something closer to insecurity, confusion…

...and you realize that he hasn’t grappled with feelings like this before.

Then it’s time. Set him up for success.

You’ll do anything to help him, to protect him.

To ensure he uses this weapon with love.

This won’t be difficult.

On the contrary, it’s the easiest decision you’ve ever made.

Placing one hand over his on the saber, and the other on his breastplate right above his heart, you look him calm in the eye and pour all your confidence and affection into the words–

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

________________

PART 3: DIN

The way you bravely face challenges. How you deftly handle your weapon. The way you inject a sense of playfulness into his orbit, your entry into his world a lively ignition to what feels like a whole new epoch in his life.

Life before your arrival, and life after. Not many have affected him like this. Changed his mind and heart like this. He can only think of one other.

But this connection is different from the bond he shares with Grogu. This one is unique, it comforts and calms him, makes him feel worthy as a man and a Mandalorian, meets him as an equal and captures his wonder in ways he wouldn’t have anticipated.

You never cease to amaze him. Even now.

He has witnessed Mandalorian courtships out of the periphery of his everyday life, seemingly never taking much notice, believing it was never meant for him.

But he did take note. Secretly. Resigned. He noticed those who grew up together and took their time. He noticed couples that seemed to range from rivals to friends to bonded in the matter of days. There didn’t seem to be a pattern, no guidelines on the right way to find your partner, or how long it might take to declare a joining.

With you… he doesn’t know what you might expect from him. Din doesn’t quite understand your old creed–the rejection of attachments–how tightly you hold it and how much of it you’ve already broken for him.

Because he loves you. In a way that’s perplexing. Your love came to him, and his to you, meeting in the middle of the battlefield. But there was no skirmish, no treaties, just a foregoing of pretense, and open arms.

Simple. Beautiful. Like everything you do.

Perhaps he felt like he was betraying that simplicity–that openness, that trust–when Vanth rounded the doorway wearing you and your new foundling on his arm. It wasn’t as simple as jealousy and a twist of the heart, but the hot flash of possession that flamed behind the beskar, growling from deep within him.

Attachment.

Mine.

While he was grateful and happy to claim you as his own as far as you gave yourself, to protect you and serve you, to meet your affection with his own, he had no right to chain you to him, to claim you so thoroughly that you could not be free in order to flourish. He would never ask you to form an attachment that would fracture your faith.

He didn’t and doesn’t think for a moment that you have any interest in Vanth. Or anyone but himself.

But the flash of emotion was dangerous. Selfish. Not the kind of love you deserve.

And yet, you still accept it. You perceive it because you know him. And you accept it.

And now you’re speaking words that are not only true…they’ve been true from the beginning of this whole damn venture.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat the words, only a little worry sneaking into your voice now because he hasn’t answered you, hasn’t spoken…dank farrik, how long has he been standing here in shock?

How long has he believed he would never receive those words?

All that’s necessary is a repetition.

It’s only words.

But it’s everything.

Which is what he’s always wanted to give you.

So he makes the exchange. Quietly. Simply. Sincerely.

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

And he can feel it. He can feel the love and concern you have for him. He can feel your trust. It pushes into him like a warm wave, flowing through all the way back to the beginning. The throughline of that first night he walked you home–I’ll be your armor–to the moment when he outfitted you with some of your own, to now as you use your whole self to send him off with armor more resilient than beskar and a reminder when he wields the saber just who gave him that gift.

Clutching your hand at his chest, he squeezes tightly as the wave washes back through him, gritting his teeth behind the visor, the emotions silently taking their toll.

To everyone else, the armor says he is a stoic warrior, his silence is his strength.

But standing here, now, in front of you, he might as well be unmasked, might as well be naked and screaming; he knows your heart can sense the riot in his, even if you can’t see his face.

There’s quiet on the street. Uli-ah’s stopped playing with the womp rats and stands staring from a distance. Fennec and Vanth are waiting for him at the speeder. And yet, he can’t seem to move, can’t seem to leave you.

So you lay hands on his helmet and pull him closer, gently tapping your forehead against the cold metal. “Go. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back to me.” ________________

They’ve lost a little time, but by the position of the suns, they should still make the palace by nightfall.

“So Fett’s taken over the crime syndicate?”

“Not quite,” Fennec shouts over the roar of her speeder and the rush of the wind. “Boba’s interested in striking a deal with Madame Garza in Mos Espa. Going to set up protections. Territories. Wants to undo some wrongs he’s made in the past.”

That’s noble. He’s an odd man, Fett. Unpredictable. But there’s no reason Din can see for saying it out loud, and so he reserves his words, focuses instead on the shifting sands.

“That was a tense parting with your partner back there,” Fennec pokes, taking advantage of the silence.

“Yeah. Riduurok.”

“Is that serious?”

“From what I’ve been told, it can be.”

Fennec deftly maneuvers the speeder around a small minefield of rocky outcroppings before turning her head over her shoulder and side-eyeing him curiously through the slit in her helmet, “From what you’ve been told–?”

“I don’t know,” Din says, his vocoder barely audible over the slur of the world going by, not caring much who hears it other than himself, “I’ve never heard anyone else actually speak those words. There aren’t usually witnesses at a Mandalorian wedding.” ________________

To be continued.

#losing my religion #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #soft din #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #tusken raiders #fennec shand #cobb vanth

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calumance · 1 year

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Surviving Together - Part 1

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: blood, they're both absolutely emotionally constipated, typical Mandalorian violence, cussing

A/N: I have no idea how many parts this is going to be. I've been writing this for MONTHS now and I figured I should get it out into the world so that I will continue it. Feedback is most welcome because I am VERY new to the Din Djarin fandom. Love you all 😘♥️

If there were two things she knew for certain, one would be that she knew the Mandalorian was getting tired of her, and the second would be that now that she was fully healed, he was going to leave her the first chance he got. She spent every waking moment trying to prepare herself for when that was going to happen, running through a list of things she would need to know and remember to survive on her own, since she obviously did such a good job the first time.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t like her, because she was a liability, because he had to watch over her just so she didn’t end up dead. She closed her eyes and looked out the window; maker, maybe it was because he thought she was weak. Whatever the reason, she knew she would never have the courage to ask.

~~~~~~

It was about a year ago when she had started to bounce from planet to planet. She hadn’t run away from home, necessarily, she just didn’t want to feel stuck anymore. The death of her father started to feel like it was suffocating her, even if it was many years ago. Then the death of her mother completely flipped a switch in her mind. Her time on her home planet was over, so she left.

Four months after she left her home planet, she found herself in Mos Eisley, a small town on the planet of Tatooine. Everything was going great for the first two months, she had picked up random jobs that gave her enough credits to buy food, and she always managed to find some place to sleep, even if it was on some abandoned crates.

It was late one night when she found herself still sitting at the cantina finishing up her food when she heard a gruff voice from behind her, “What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this all alone?” Her blood ran cold, this was the first time she had ever felt this level of terror since the night her father was killed.

The terror became icy in her veins when she felt the cold steel of a vibroblade pressed to the front of her throat. She tried to swallow, but the knife was pressed so firmly that the slightest movement would cut her, “I was just finishing up my dinner.” She whispered while trying to lean away from the knife.

“Give me all of your credits, and I will let you walk out of here unscathed.” The voice was right next to her ear, sending an unsettling shiver down her spine.

There was no way she was going to give this guy the credits she had worked so hard for. She knew her combat skills were subpar at best, but in a quick motion, she threw her head back, straight into her assailant's nose. As he stumbled backward, she turned to catch a glimpse at how much damage she caused. His nose was bleeding, but now he was angry.

“Shit,” she mumbled to herself as she quickly grabbed her pack and started to make a run for it.

She didn’t have enough time to yell for help before the miscreant caught up to her, tackling her to the ground. A scream barely escaped her throat before a hand covered her mouth, and the knife was plunged into her side. She screamed louder, but it was muffled by the hand. The warm sensation of blood running down her side caused her to stop screaming, she needed to stop panicking if she wanted to survive. Quickly, the man above her grabbed her pack, removed the vibroblade from her side, and ran.

She scrambled to press her hand to her side, tears now starting to fall down her cheeks. When she removed her shaking hand from her side, it was coated in blood. “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself before looking around to see if there was someone nearby to help her, “Fuck,” She repeated when all she saw was vast nothingness. As hard as she tried to stay calm, the amount of blood loss caused her to panic. As hard as she tried to use the Force to heal the wound, the panic wouldn't ebb and nothing was happening. She peeled her hand away from her wound and cried loudly while her blood covered hands shook. She was going to die, and she had nothing, and she was terrified, and she was alone. A sob escaped as she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in some sort of ship, the pain in her side still very intense. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she quickly looked for something to vomit in. A bucket was quickly placed in front of her, and just in time. As soon as she was finished, she flopped onto her back and closed her eyes, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “Am I dead?” She asked into the open air.

“No,” a voice told her. The voice was spoken through a modulator which caused her to open her eyes and look around. She swallowed hard when her eyes landed on her savior. The Mandalorian was well known around the galaxy, one of the best bounty hunters, definitely not someone you’d want to be on the bad side of.

“The Mandalorian,” She said, and he paused. A thick silence filled the air as she closed her eyes again and tried to hold down the next wave of nausea. “What happened?”

“I should be asking you that.” He said while pretending to be distracted by whatever he was doing. Even he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing; his actual attention solely on the woman laying on the cot.

She took a breath, a searing pain shot through her abdomen. After she let out a soft grunt, she told him what happened, in as little words as possible. “I was held at blade point, the guy stabbed me, grabbed all of my stuff, and ran.” Her throat felt as dry as the dune sea, “I thought I died.”

“You passed out from the blood loss,” he said as he sauntered over to her, a canteen in his hand. He offered the canteen to her and she took it reluctantly. She started to sit up, but winced. Immediately, he jumped to help her, his hand resting on her upper back to support her. She said no words, but her eyes said ‘thank you.’ He swallowed before speaking again, “The wound is deep, you need rest, I’ll take you to Nevarro to get essentials, you can stay until you are healed.” He paused after that, he wasn’t sure why he paused, but he did.

She allowed the cool water to coat her throat. A sigh escaped her lips as she relished in the feeling. “So what do I call you?” She tilted her head back and took another swig of water.

He debated telling her his real name, Din, my name is Din, how hard is that? He clenched his hands into fists out of nervousness. His name had been spoken enough times recently that there was no real reason to hide it, but it was still personal. Moff Gideon used it as an intimidation tactic, and it still sat poorly on his chest. “Mando is fine.” That was when she nodded and looked up at him. She spoke her name and the tips of his fingers tingled. His face heated up and at the moment he was glad to be wearing the helmet. “Get some rest,” he said after gathering himself. “We’ll land in Nevarro in a day or two.” After he helped her lay back down, he turned on his heels and climbed the ladder into the cockpit.

The two days it took them to get to Nevarro were thick with tension. Mando was so cautious around her that she figured it was because he was already starting to regret taking her along with him. In reality, it was because Din was absolutely transfixed by her and was trying his damndest to not get too close to her. The only time Din allowed himself to get close to her were the times he helped clean and redress her wound. After he was done, she would close her eyes and whisper a ‘thank you’ before taking a deep breath. Din would wait until she fell back into a deep sleep to run a gloved hand across the top of her head. Only once did he allow himself to sit and watch her, silently trying to figure out what it was about her that had him in such a chokehold.

When they landed in Nevarro, he had asked her if she was able to walk. “Yeah, yeah, I can walk,” it was a shaky answer, “Maybe with some help?” She sheepishly asked him. They both paused and eventually Din nodded and helped her stand. When she winced, his heart stopped. His stare was locked on her and she nodded, signaling that she was okay. Din let out a breath that wasn’t caught by his modulator.

“Stay here.” It came out more stern than he intended, he tried not to dwell on it as he quickly began to gather his belongings. After placing his blaster in its holster, and his rifle on his back, he made sure his armor was secure then he made his way back to her. His beskar helmet turned to her in a questioning stare. After she nodded, they started to make their way into town.

Din had helped her along the shops in the market, where together they got her new clothes, ration bars, and other essentials she would need if she were to be traveling with him. When they got back to the ship, her eyes were starting to become heavy and she was leaning more and more of her weight into him. He oddly welcomed the feeling of her body pressed against his, but ultimately laid her back down on her cot. Once she was comfortable, he pulled a blanket from the storage crate and draped it over her. This was the second time he allowed himself to sit and watch her sleep.

After the trip to Nevarro, Mando continued to bounty hunt, bringing her along for the ride while making sure her wound was healing the way it should. Once she started healing and being able to move on her own, he had set some ground rules: she either had to stay on the ship while he was hunting a quarry, or she stayed in an inn; if she were to ever stay on the ship, do not open it for anyone but him; and always think of herself. She had agreed to these terms, and that was when Mando had stopped talking to her, other than handing her a few credits before he left, with a nod goodbye. With the fear of the fact that Mando was probably getting tired of her presence, she stopped talking to him, making herself small, and never giving him a reason to dump her on some random planet. It was working, or so they thought.

~~~~~~

She looked back at the Mandalorian as he reached his hand up and flipped a switch, getting ready to enter hyperspace. When they did find themselves in the same area together, she felt a strange sense of calm. A calm that she would never be able to explain, and one he probably didn’t feel in return. It was the stupidest thing, to find yourself drawn to someone who barely tolerated your existence, but here she was, staring at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet wishing she could tell him everything. But how can you tell someone everything, when you don’t even know what everything is? She dropped her eyes to her hands as the ship entered hyperspace. Quietly, she lifted her knees to her chest and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and quickly drifted to sleep.

Once he felt secure in their flight path, and that nothing was going to interrupt their relatively short trip through hyperspace, he turned to the woman in the copilot seat. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and her head was tilted back. Soft snores came from her nose as the deep sleep consumed her. He thought about carrying her out of the cockpit and to the area she had set up as her sleeping quarters, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, he stood and removed his cloak, draping it over her. She stirred lightly, but didn’t wake. He let out a soft sigh before placing a gloved hand gently on the top of her head. He stared at her in awe for a short moment before exiting the cockpit and headed to his bunk.

Once the sliding door to his bunk closed, he removed his helmet and laid his head back. He thinks about the day he found her, laying in the sand, blood pooled underneath her. His heart was already broken from returning Grogu to the Jedi, his heart shattered when he saw her left to die in the sand. He picked her up and carried her to his ship. Once he set her down, he immediately started to work on cleaning and sealing her wound. As soon as he was sure she would recover, he studied her. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on in a while. Just as quickly as he found himself staring, he looked away from her, he couldn’t get attached, not again. But no matter how hard he tried, he was always drawn to her.

#din djarin #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin fan fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #star wars #Star Wars fan fiction #Star Wars fan fic #Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal fan fiction #Pedro Pascal fan fic #Pedro Pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal x female reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin fan fiction series

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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THE SILVER LINING — CH. 1

Chapter One: The Mercury Keeps Rising

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families in need of medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and albeit the bounty hunters as well. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has somehow led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths,

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: YA’LL IM BACK TO WRITING MY SOUL OUT HERE YAY! I feel like this is gonna be a weekly updated fic or updated twice a week if I’m feeling speedy hehe. Did I turn to the Enneagram again? Yep! You are an Enneagram Two for this fic! Yay! (Cause I’m an Enneagram Two :>) And Din is an Enneagram One, so ya’ll are romantically compatible. Anyways, my thoughts and explanations are gonna be in the end notes! Leave a comment to let me know if you want this series or if I should scrap it. :)

Song: The Great War by Taylor Swift

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NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

Just a little longer now… Shouldn't be much longer. Wait, what is this about? You’ve been having trouble sleeping since you were young. The nightmares were nothing new, but the sharp flares in your chest and side kept bothering you recently. Your nervous system's acting up and now being awake feels unsafe as you lay there in your cot, clutching your chest, feeling each breath that escapes from your nose and out through your mouth as you stare at the ceiling above you.

You were a long way from Bogden 3, where you were raised. Nevarro wasn’t the ideal place to hide. It was situated within a sector of the Outer Rim Territories, in a system with a singular star and asteroid fields. An ashen world of black sands, with rocky and volcanic terrain that consisted of regions of rocky flats and hills along with vast fields of lava, which contained lava rivers both on the surface and underground.

The planet became a bounty hunter hive after the fall of the Empire. The Bounty Hunters’ Guild owns hubs throughout the Galaxy. One of such hub is located on the Outer Rim planet Nevarro, which functions as a cantina. The cantina works around the clock, has its brewery, offers a wide selection of drinks with snacks, provides coolness from the air conditioner, and is a favorite place for rest and meetings of bounty hunters.

By some luck or the unknown ways of the Force, no one had recognized you nor put a bounty on your head yet. After aiding the Republic during the revolution against the Empire and after the Battle of Yavin as a healer and a medic, you left to medically aid those in need after the war. If you were being honest, you missed your friends in the Soaring Hawkbat Clan and the people who raised you. However, you knew that what you were doing needed to be done.

Droids may sometimes be unreliable, and no matter how sophisticated technology becomes, there is no substitute for the human touch. No droid, no matter how dexterous, can offer compassion. It might be able to store and process more medical information, but only people can offer a truly sympathetic ear. As one of the few who possessed the knowledge to provide primary care to the sick and wounded, Greef Karga eventually established a small medcenter a few blocks away from the cantina.

You decide to push yourself up and away from your cot, seeing the glimmer of light peek through the window. Cleaning up, getting dressed, and after quickly eating a piece of purple fruit, you sling your brown satchel over your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the medcenter. As you enter, you greet the 2-1B droid which had modular limbs that allowed them to use a range of surgical tools and other medical instruments based on their patients' needs. You made your way over to your desk, setting down your bag and then sterilizing your hands afterward.

Different energy and buzz were happening around Nevarro. As you patched up one of the Trandoshan and sold them a couple of cans containing bacta for a good amount of credits, you had overheard them talking about receiving a job from the Client and planning a flight to Arvala-7. Living on this bounty hunter-infested planet taught you to listen for information and to use it to your advantage when necessary. They were usually given a holopuck, a simple holographic device used to display an image of the quarry and the bounty payout. However, they were only given a tracking fob, the Trandoshan briefly flashing it to you before tucking it away in their belt.

The next few hours were spent treating different families with various illnesses and injuries, then sending them off with some medication and a specific date to return. This was your usual routine, nothing new to note except for that tiny piece of information from earlier.

The sound of the doors hissing to life causes you to turn your head. If you were being honest, this was the last person you expected to show up in your medcenter. Your mouth gaped open as you take in the sight of the tall and imposing figure in front of you. The unmistakable shape of the Mandalorian helmet and polished silver causes you to nearly choke on your saliva.

“Do you have any bacta spray?” The sound of his rough and modulated voice causes you to try and gather your composure as he walks towards you, which proves to be slightly challenging. You clear your throat and look at his vizor, “Yeah, let me just go to the cabinet to get some.” He doesn’t respond, leaving you to awkwardly stand there for a few more seconds before moving to retrieve the bacta spray.

You usually aren’t this nervous or anxious around anyone, but the Mandalorian was completely different. As you rummage through the cabinet, you try and fight the overwhelming urge to sense his feelings, but it is no use. He radiates with deep hurt from his past but tries to bury his soul in the dark. This Mandalorian weights living heavy on his spine. A man who has created mistakes grips at them until his hands are bruised and burning. You wince at that, nearly dropping one of the bacta sprays but manage to catch it, turning to the Mandalorian keenly observing you as you make your way over to him, trying to ignore the waves and streaks of grey and silver glowing around his figure, you quickly hand it to him while saying, “I hope three is enough for now.”

He curtly nods, “How much?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to pay. It’s fine.” The slight tilt of his helmet almost causes you to blush, you feel his curiosity and concern, “I insist.”

You blink and shake your head again, “Nope. Just… be careful on your journey. That’s enough for me.” You sense his confusion and interest before he turns and walks away, leaving a trail of gray streaks only you could see, hearing the slight clink sound of beskar, and the doors closing.

Once you’re sure he left, you bring both of your hands to the side of your face, using two fingers to rub into your temple, sighing in embarrassment and disappointment for allowing yourself to nearly reveal who you truly are. Having strong Force empathy abilities involved picking up impressions of an individual's feelings and general emotional state. There was no explanation for the aura you could see around individuals, a specific color for each living creature that encompasses their character, personality, morals, past, present, and sometimes, a rare glimpse of their future emotions.

You try and ground yourself by closing your eyes and breathing, controlled and steady breaths of air as you reassure yourself that you’re safe. The peace doesn’t last long, as flashes of visions begin to cloud your periphery. Loud explosions on Nevarro, blaster fights, the unmistakable loud cries of a child, and the Mandalorian at the center of it all. You fall to your knees, clutching your chest tightly and the other to hold your upper body. You sensed the dark side, anger, fear, aggression, and a lust for power from this planet long before, but now you sense there is something much more sinister approaching.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – NOON

After a few days, you intercepted a transmission from the Mandalorian successfully capturing the bounty from Arvala-7, and must be directly given to The Client. While the Mandalorian was gone you had been secretly training, meditating, and gathering more information about whoever this Client may be, allowing the Force to guide you to the path you must walk on.

You step out of the medcenter to see the Razor Crest preparing to land on the settlement's spaceport and disembark. You toss the hood over your head and use a scarf as a mask, hiding in the shadows, watching the Mandalorian and a hover-pram pass you by swiftly and you catch a glimpse of a green creature inside. Your mouth slightly drops open in shock and the quiet feeling of the Force settles inside of you as you eye the baby.

You follow the two of them from a distance, not wanting to be noticed or seen. The Mandalorian turns right into an alleyway, and you wait a few seconds before trailing him. You hide behind one of the stone pillars, keenly observing his movements. The Mandalorian pounds loudly on a metal door and a TT-8L/Y7 gatekeeper droid, a simple photoreceptor mounted on a retractable eyestalk. The Mandalorian shows a disc as proof of identity. You notice The Child reacts in surprise as the droid retracts.

The door unlocks, and you realize you must follow them without getting caught. Your eyes close as you calmed yourself, deep breaths in and out, registering the light and sound waves around you, every particle and atom. Tiny pieces of music, notes in the air that only you can hear, each sound of your heartbeat, you hold my breath and try to swim. Making infinite room for hope and oxygen, every cell across your skin comes to life, and slowly willing the light particles to bend and render you invisible to visual and audio detection.

When you open your eyes, you silently gasped, seeing a pair of Remnant Stormtroopers exit the house, and watching The Child lowers its ears and head. Your hands clench in a fist so tight you reminded yourself to breathe, following after the Mandalorian and the Stormtroopers before the door slides shut behind you. Inside the corridor, one of the stormtroopers roughly yanks the Child's cradle. Your eyes narrow in agitation and annoyance, the Madalorian is quick to say, “Easy with that.” To which the first Stormtrooper snarkily replies, “You take it easy.”

The stormtroopers lead you to a frail old man who you assume to be the Client and to a familiar-looking doctor on the side, the Client is delighted, “Yes!” He holds the tracking fob and approaches the Child, “Yes, yes, yes! Yes.” The Doctor begins to scan the child with a device, eventually, the scanner beeps to his delight, “Very healthy. Yes.”

The Client stands taller to speak to the Mandalorian, “Your reputation was not unwarranted.” The Mandalorian isn’t the least bit flattered, opting to question him, “How many fobs did you give out?” To which the Client responds, “This asset was of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure its delivery. But to the winner…” He walks over to the desk, bringing out a large container, “Go the spoils.” After a few buttons are pushed, the sides of the container bloom open to reveal bars of Beskar. The Mandalorian comes closer to the center table, holding two bars of beskar as you frown in disappointment.

“Such a large bounty for such a small package.” The Client says, and the Child cries and coos for the Mandalorian as he is taken away by the doctor. He can’t help the guilt that bubbles inside of him, he asks, “What are your plans for it?” The Client isn’t amused by his inquiry, “How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?”

Two more Stormtroopers appear from the room to the right, standing behind the Client, “That Beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” With that, the Mandalorian places the two pieces of Beskar inside the container. No longer speaking and leaving with his prize as you follow him outside undetected.

Once you were in the main streets of the city, you pull back your cloak and render yourself visible, watching the Mandalorian walks through the marketplace and down the steps into the sewer below. You feel the heavy weight on your chest, unsure if the emotions you feel are coming from him or if they are your own. You shake your head and make your way to the Cantina, needing a drink after all of the information you’ve gathered.

You were taught about Master Yoda, a legendary Jedi Master and stronger than most in his connection with the Force. Small in size but wise and powerful, he trained Jedi for over eight hundred years, playing integral roles in the Clone Wars, and helped in the upbringing of Master Luke Skywalker, to which your clan members were deciding to join him or not. Could this Child be another one of his kind?

The Cantina doors opened and you were immediately greeted by Greef Karga, “Well, look who we have here our favorite medic! Never thought you’d step foot in this place.” You shrugged in response, trying to shake off the stares of the different guests in the Cantina, “I gotta support Mikgel from time to time. Besides, he said he owed me a free drink.” You walk a bit closer to Greef Karga’s table as he asks, “Why would a woman like you, so carefree spirited need a drink?”

You sit on the other side of the booth, placing both of your arms atop the table, “Would… finding out about Imperial Forces hiding in out in a safe house on our planet count?” Greef Karga chokes on air and winces, you tilt your head down and raise an eyebrow, “Did you think you could keep this from me? What the hell are they doing here?”

He regains his composure and leans forward to whisper his reply, “I never intended to keep it from you. I was trying to protect you.” You scoff in disbelief and annoyance, “Protect me?”

To which Karga says, “Yes! Protect you, if they knew who you were and what you are they’d–” You rarely get angry, always choosing to see the good in people, but you sense the feeling of Karga’s greed and mixed lies.

You raise your hand, palm facing him, “Don’t lecture me about something I’ve lived and fought through. Giving them your services makes you an accomplice, a rat, and a damn coward.” The taste of acid and the waves of color that is radiates off of Karga is a mix of a bright lava orange and red, his simmering anger hisses at you, “Look who’s to talk. Hiding all your life. Running from your own future. Isn’t that a bit selfish and cowardly?” You deflate at that, understanding that he is partially right.

But before you could respond to the sound of the doors hissing open, you turn your head to see the Mandalorian entering the cantina, which silences its patrons as everyone gazes at him. Completely decked out with shiny new armor, he is completely unbothered as he approaches the table where you and Greef Karga are conversing. Karga heartily laughs, “Ah! Mando! They all hate you, Mando. Because you’re a legend!”

You try and get out of the booth and leave but Mando uses his right hand for you to stay put, so you settle back down again. You raise your eyes to hear the raspy voice of the Mandalorian confront Karga, “How many of them had tracking fobs?” Greef Karga scoffs and gestures around the Cantina, “All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you.” The Mandalorian looks at you, “What about her?” To which you look up at him and frown, “No. I’m just a medic getting a drink after a tough day. But congratulations, I guess.”

Greef Karga continues, “And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit with us, my friend.” The Mandalorian obliges and unclips his Amban sniper rifle, placing it on the side of the couch before you move a little to the right to give him room to sit next to you. He took up almost half of the booth with his width and physique. You feel your left arm warm up with how close he was, the comfort that allures you to his orbit was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You choose to look straight ahead, trying not to acknowledge him pressed up beside you, luckily Greef Karga opens his mouth to talk, “They’re all weighing the Beskar in their minds, but not me. No. I, for one, celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well.”

Your right leg bounces up and down in anticipation Karga continues, “Hell! Even I’m rich.” He chuckled and digs into his breast pocket to reveal the two bars of Beskar he was given by the Client. You roll your eyes in annoyance, but the Guild Master says, “Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?”

Mando cuts to the chase, “I want my next job.” Greef Karga takes a sip of his drink before placing it down on the table, he eyes him with confusion, “Next job? Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I’ll take you to the Twi’lek healing baths.” You frown at that and Mando doesn’t seem to care, “I want my next job.” Karga sighs, “Sure. Fine.”

“You hunters like to keep busy, right?” Karaga says with an amused tone, “Well, these are all far away.” He places a bunch of holopucks on the table and the Mandalorian reaches out to grab one, “The further, the better.” Karga smiles, “Well, take your pick. You’ve earned it.”

Mando places the holopuck on the table and it whizzes to life, showing an image of a Mon Calamari. “Ah. That’s the best one of the lot. A nobleman’s son skipped bail. Looks like you’re headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything and simply takes the puck and moves away from the table, grabbing his Amban sniper rifle, seemingly satisfied with his pick. You turn to watch him go but he freezes, and you use the force to reach out what he’s feeling, to be flooded with waves of guilt. Your eyebrows knit together as you hear Mando ask, “Any idea what they’re gonna do with it?”

Karga is packing the rest of the holopucks, “With what?” The Mandalorian turns to face him, “The kid.” Karga shakes his head, “I didn’t ask. It’s against the Guild Code.” Mando’s voice goes deeper as he points out, “They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” You raise your eyebrows at Karga, as you smile smugly at him, “I asked the same thing.” To which he says, “Are the two of you working together? The Empire is gone. All that are left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you both, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.”

You rolled your eyes and the Mandalorian grunts out, “That’s a joke.” Greef doesn’t give a remark about his statement, instead, he says, “Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t reply and simply takes his leave. You shake your head, scoffing at Karga and he calls out your name as you near the exit, “I suggest you keep yourself out of sight with those Imperial troops. For your safety, of course.” You say nothing and leave the Cantina, you feel the ground shaking under your feet and feel the pressure building until you can't breathe.

You shake your head, and the temptation of the dark side calls to you, to give in to your rage and hatred, you internally fight it off, gritting your teeth as you say, “No.” You catch your breath and focus, rationalizing your decision to break into the Imperial Remnant safe house to save the Child, then you will yourself to move towards the medcenter.

You swiftly walked towards your desk, grabbed your satchel, and opened the flap of the leather. Finding the fabric that wraps around the object you were searching for, you pull it out of the satchel and unwrap it. The lightsaber hilt that you haven’t touched since the day you left the clan, weighs heavy in your hands but the familiar cool touch of silver and gold metal forged into one grant you a sense of comfort. You wrap the hilt once more, not yet needing your lightsaber, placing it inside your satchel and instead arm yourself with a blaster. As you were gathering a few bacta sprays, the double doors sounded open, you don’t look over your shoulder as you say, “We’re closed for the day.”

“I need your help.” You feel your eyes expand and widen, the familiar voice of the Mandalorian causes you to wince a little bit as you turn to see his figure standing a few feet away from you.

You try to act nonchalant ask you ask, “What did you um… need?” Mando steps a bit closer to you, which causes your back to hit the cabinet door, his grave voice echoes through the modulator, “I need your help with rescuing the kid.” You swallow away your nervousness, “What? Why would you ask for my help?”

“You never showed up to the Cantina until today. You were asking Karga about the Imperials and you were curious as to why there were here. You never carry a weapon with you so I’m assuming you’re about to infiltrate their base. It looks like our interests are aligned,” Mando stated plainly as you quietly shook your head, “You don’t know me. So why trust me at all with this?”

It takes him a moment to form a response, you watch as his shoulders rise and fall with every intake of breath, then he says, “I’ve heard the good you’ve done for the people of Nevarro. No judgment or malice. Sometimes giving them medical care for free. You’re right, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done before. But right now, I do know you’ve only done the right thing. So, I’m asking for your help.”

You were startled by his response, completely breathless by his honesty and directness. You had thought he didn’t know who you were, just some medic around Nevarro, plain and simple. But it seems the Mandalorian also keeps tabs on the citizens around the town.

The color aura of the Mandalorian returns as you blink at him, feeling his emotions bouncing off of him and you becoming the receiver. Sparks of white and silver illuminate him, sensing his sincerity and need to save the Child. You lick your lips as an anxious tick and then nod, “Okay. I’ll do it. What’s the plan?”

The sun was beginning to set, casting shadows on your figures as you swiftly walk down the marketplace and down the alleyway to see the giant green metal door to the Imperial safe house. You make a right to find the hovering pram in the dumpster, and you feel his rage beside you. Like wildfire within him, mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke. It's fight or flight buried in his mind as alarms will sound.

You both climb up to the rooftop of the building across, positioned on his stomach, using his sniper rifle to listen to his targets. Clicking the side of his helmet to which the device whizzes and the static could be heard as you lay flat next to him. You figured he was listening to the targets and waiting for him to relay the information. After a few seconds, the Mandalorian quickly says, “We need to get the kid out of there before they leave.” You nodded as you lifted your hood up, “Okay.”

You both climb down off the rooftop. The Mandalorian bangs on the green door and is greeted by the gatekeeper droid. However, the Mandalorian violently grabs the stem, causing it to screech and rips off the droid's head, causing it to short circuit. He quickly walks away to the side, causing the two stormtroopers to come out to investigate.

One of them tells the other, “Check the perimeter.”

You and the Mandalorian plant a grav charge on a nearby wall, he grabs your wrist to hide behind another wall, “Cover your ears.”

You follow his instructions, using both of your hands to cover them, the beeping chirps louder, then sparks begin to fly, blowing a hole in the Imperial compound. Alarms are blaring, as you both walk into the corridor, positioning yourselves and waiting for the stormtroopers to advance.

The yellow lights flicker and eventually short-circuit, catching a glimpse of sparks flying on the side of the wall. You see the stormtroopers pass you and the Mandalorian to inspect the giant hole in the wall, using the flashlights on the side of their blasters to find nothing.

You both appear from behind the stormtroopers, the Mandalorian shooting the both of them from behind. Another stormtrooper enters the corridor and finds his fallen comrades, one of whom has a smoking hole in his chest. The Mandalorian once again appears from the shadows, knocking him down with his blaster and shooting him as well.

So far you hadn’t even needed to draw out your blaster, Mando is truly skilled. You walk through the corridors of the facility, checking each corner for stormtroopers. You and he venture deeper into the compound where he traps a fourth stormtrooper with his grappling cable and stabs him with his vibroblade.

You shoot a door open and the stormtrooper manages to get a hit on this shoulder pauldron, causing him to jerk backward but manages to shoot the stormtrooper inside the laboratory. You both walk inside and you spot the doctor and an IT-O Interrogation Unit. The doctor begins to plead for his life, “No, no, no, no, please. Please. No. No, no.” You raise your blaster to shoot down the IT-O Interrogation Unit, watching the pile of junk collapse on the ground.

Mando raises his blaster to shoot at the doctor, but he begs you both once more, “No, please. Please don’t hurt him. It’s just a child.” You and the Mandalorian walk toward him and he continues to plead, “Please. No. No! Please. No. No, no.” Mando grabs him by his chest and shoves him to the side, causing him to fall to the floor. He points and clicks his blaster at him, and he curls into a ball with his arm stretched out begging. You make your way to the machine keeping the child, finding him deep asleep.

You feel the Mandalorian break at the sight, alarms are still blaring, but it's too late for holy water now. He points the blaster, angrily asking, “What did you do to it?” He doesn’t get an immediate response which causes him to repeat the question harshly, “What did you do to it?” The doctor shakingly replies, “I protected him. If it wasn’t for me, he would already be dead! Please! Please. Please.”

The doctor whimpers as you quickly grab the Child and leave with the Mandalorian. You make a right but here the doors open, Mando grabs you and presses you up against a wall to hide behind some of the storage crates. You suddenly feel nauseous and can hear your own heartbeat flutter as you register the cool kiss of his armor against your warm flesh. You close your eyes as you feel the rise and fall of your chest and hear Mandos’ quiet breathing.

You try to push down your powers and senses, not wanting to feel his emotions at this particular moment right now. You feel the strings and waves radiating and intertwining with yours, the silver wisps curling with your bright shining colors. You tightly shut your eyes, hoping that you were almost out of this compound.

Suddenly, you hear the Mandalorian whisper, “They’re gone.”

Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to meet his gaze through his vizor, there is a spectrum of color, surrounding you both. Your mouth partly opens to say something but there is no sound. For a moment, you believed he felt something too, the pull of gravity within your orbit. However, Mando pulls away from you and the colors disappear once more as if it was never truly there.

Neither of you spoke as you trail behind him and walk into a storeroom. The unexpected sound of the door opening catches you and Mando off-guard as two stormtroopers with flashlights attached to their armor try to shoot you both down. One of the stormtroopers says, “Split up. We’ll flush him out.”

You see their flashlights give away their positions, giving you and him time to defend yourselves. You turn to your left to give Mando the Child, letting him carry it, and make your way to the other stormtrooper.

“Give it up. There’s nowhere to–” You hear the groan of the stormtrooper being taken down by Mando, and you do the same to the other one, hitting him over the head with your blaster before knocking him out completely.

Another stormtrooper announces his arrival, “Hey!” To which you grab Mando’s Ampan sniper rifle on the floor, electrocuting him with the fork end of the device.

As you both exit the storeroom only to run into a stormtrooper. You both exchange gunfire, the sharp whizzing sound of blaster fire echoes in your ears, and the Mandalorian shoots him down. A second stormtrooper blasts his way through, and he unleashes his flamethrower on the second stormtrooper, scorching him. The Child looks away as this happens. The charred stormtrooper falls to the ground.

You groan in annoyance, “How many are there?” Mando hums, “Way too many for the Empire to be considered gone.”

You follow him and enter the meeting room with him holding the Child. Seemingly empty you walk straight to the exit doors, however, they open to reveal four more stormtroopers, “Freeze!” You three are completely cornered, “Don’t move! Hands up!” One of them yells, “Drop the blasters!”

You glare at the stormtroopers as Mando speaks calmly to them, “Wait. What I’m holding is very valuable. Here.” Mando gestures to you to do the same as you get down on your knees to place your blasters on the ground and he gently places the Child on the floor as well. “Now turn and face me!”

A stormtrooper commands, but neither of you moves, allowing yourself to have faith in the Mandalorian’s plans. You watch him clench his fists, and you hear the device on his arm chirp to life. “Stand up!” They command once more but you don’t follow their orders. A beat passes. The sharp sound of whistling birds creating fireworks as he unleashes them onto your enemies, you hear them groan in pain as it takes out all of the stormtroopers.

Mando gently picks up the Child and his blaster to which you grab your blaster from the floor, quickly exiting the compound. You walk side by side with the Mandalorian through the streets of Navarro, feeling the menacing stares of each bounty hunter. You spot their tracking fobs have been reactivated, loudly beeping as they point it towards your direction. Soon enough you are surrounded by several armed bounty hunters.

You spot Greef Karga stepping into view, “Welcome back! I’m surprised to see you ask for help from our talented healer. Now put the package down.” You analyze the several bounty hunters, trying to find an escape. “Step aside. I’m going to my ship.” Mando said, and Karga softly chuckles, “You put the bounty down and perhaps I’ll let you pass and our medic can be easily forgiven, after all, she’s done for the citizens of this town.”

Mando doesn’t relent and states, “She and the kid are coming with me.” You turn to look at him in surprise that he wouldn’t just leave you here to face the consequences of your actions. “If you truly care about the kid and her, then you’ll put it on the speeder and you’ll let her walk away as if none of this ever happened and we’ll discuss terms.” An R6 astromech droid, on the speeder, turns its head.

“How do we know if we can trust you?” You asked and Karga scoffs, “Because I’m your only hope.” You watch Mando walk over to the speeder and you feel your eyes begin to fog with oncoming tears. Karga says your name, “Walk away and we’ll discuss this later.” You clench your jaw and glare at the bounty agent before turning your back toward him, and placing your hand on your blaster as you sensed it, the tingling in your spine and throughout your body.

Mando whirls around and shoots at the other bounty hunters, jumping onto a repulsorlift vehicle carrying luggage. You quickly take cover and shoot down the other bounty hunters running towards the Mandalorian and hopping onto the repulsorlift. Deep and commanding, he demands the astromech droid, “Drive!”

The droid shakes its head in disapproval and Mando raises his blaster at him, “Drive!” The astromech screeches in fear and drives the repulsorlift vehicle while you and Mando are shooting down as many bounty hunters as you can.

You aim for the sniper above and shoot while Mando covers the ground as you drive by. The astromech is shot down by Karga, you see bright yellow sparks and you hear the droid power down. You hear Mando whisper, “Are you okay?”

To which you hum and nod, “Mhm. I’m fine.”

It’s now deadly quiet as the rest of the hunters step closer toward the repulsorlift. The fork end of the amban rifle peaks through the luggage as Mando aims and blasts bounty hunters into ash. Different species groan and clamor to hide behind various objects.

“That’s one impressive weapon!” Karaga states and Mando’s voice booms as he announces, “Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna walk to my ship with her and the kid, and you’re gonna let it happen.”

“No. How about this? We take the kid and the medic, and if you try to stop us, we will kill you and we strip your body for parts.” Karga says menacingly, and suddenly you feel someone pull your leg, dragging you and you yelp out in fear and surprise.

Mando is quick to your aid, using the butt of his rifle and then shocking him with the fork of his weapon, completely stunning the first bounty hunter while you shoot down the second.

You spot the rest of the hunters advancing towards you with their weapons, firing every part of the speeder.

Greef Karga yells, “Don’t hit the target or her!” As a last resort, Mando activates his flamethrower, which causes the bounty hunters to fall back for a moment, only for it to run out of fuel. You lay down next to the Child, craning your head to the right to gaze at his peaceful sleeping form.

You feel the sudden weight of Mando hovering over you and the kid, trying to protect both of you til the end. You hear the Child coo beside you and smile in adoration.

You reach into your satchel and dig for the lightsaber hilt, readying yourself to defend Mando and the Child the moment it comes down to it. Without notice, you hear the whooshing sound of rockets streaking through the air to hit one of the bounty hunters straight through the chest. Fortunately, several fellow members of the Mandalorian Tribe, donning jetpacks and blasters, come to your aid, taking out several bounty hunters.

You watch in awe as the Mandalorians skillfully use their weapons in taking out the remaining bounty hunters, the head infantry lands close to the speeder and says, “Get out of here! We’ll hold them off!” To which Mando replies, “You’re going to have to relocate the covert.” The head infantry responds, “This is the Way.” And Mando echos back, “This is the Way.”

The firing continues and Mando carries the Child and helps to pull you up. You and the Mandalorian board the Razor Crest, but are soon cornered by Greef Karga, “Hold it right there.” You both turn to face Karga as he states, “I didn’t want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code. And you,” he turns to talk to you, “Since you’re with him they will come after you too now. And the Imps will soon follow.” You raise your chin as you steadily replied, “Let them try.”

The Mandalorian uses his grappling hook to trigger the carbonite chamber, unleashing some tibanna gas in an attempt to blind Karga. You expertly doge his attempts to shoot at you only for you to outstretch your hand, using the Force to let his weapon fly out of his hands, he stands there completely stunned and Mando uses his blaster to shoot him off of the Razor Crest.

The hatch closes and you strap yourself in, the Razor Crest takes off, watching the other Mandalorians provide covering fire through the window. You comfortably soar into the skies of Nevarro. You spot the head infantry flying beside the ship and salute him before flying off.

The Mandalorian makes a remark, “I gotta get one of those.” And you snort in amusement. The Child is seated beside his lap and is reaching for something. The Mandalorian unscrews the metal ball on the stick and gives it to him to play with before taking the Razor Crest into space.

End Notes:

YAYYYYYYYYYYYY! SPACE DAD STORY!

You are a force-sensitive empath! HORRAY!

You can force cloak yourself because this skill tends to come to people as more of a natural talent, for it is extremely difficult to learn otherwise; thus, the reason the ability is rarely seen.

The reader is an Enneagram 2! You are a part of the Heart Center; The benevolent, embrace of the good in other people, engage in every emotional love, you experience and feel their emotions more than anyone else. Helpful, natural nurturers, understanding, generous, supportive, mistaken as the passive, embodiment of what love and embrace look like.

The Mandalorian is an Enneagram One personality type with a Nine wing. Enneagram Ones belong to the body center, along with Eights and Nines, and they naturally make decisions based on gut instinct. The Mandalorian likes to feel in control, particularly of his physical environment. For Enneagram Ones, freedom and independence are important.

SO THAT'S A GLIMPSE INTO THEIR PERSONALITY TYPE AND THE WAY THEY MAKE CHOICES!

All will be revealed in the coming chapters! I can’t wait for you guys to read them AHHHHHH

Thank you for all the reblogs, comments, feedback, and likes! Ya’ll really are too sweet and I truly appreciate your kind words. SEE YA IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!

TAGLIST:

@wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers

#din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #mando x you #The Silver Lining #The Silver Lining Masterlist #The Silver Lining Din Djarin #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader

351 notes · View notes

imaginedisish · 2 years

Text

cardigan (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: In honor of midnights releasing, here’s a cardigan-inspired fic lol. I absolutely love this song. Anyway, I finished this last night at 2am and proofread it this morning, so I’m so sorry if it sucks. Enjoy!!!

Summary: After you’re shot, Din decides he can’t risk losing you (Jedi!reader).

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst. But fluff, and smut so minors get out of here. 18+ (PIV, mentions of fingering). Mentions of alcohol/consuming alcohol, description of injuries, canon typical violence, friends/absolute idiots to lovers, major pining, probably some grammatical errors.

Word Count: 5,311 (sorry)

“I had it under control, Din. I knew what I was doing.”

That was a complete lie, and he knew it.

But he’s silent, temporarily compliant as you huff and let yourself fall back against the steel wall behind you. He takes a few steps towards you, his boots thumping against the ground. Suddenly his gloved hand is under your shirt, initially resting on your waist before ghosting down to your hips. He had never been this close to you before, not like this.

You shudder under his touch as his thumb circles around the tiniest graze of a blaster wound. You try your best to hide your pain as the tip of his fingers hit the edge of the wound, but a small gasp leaves your lips, your own body betraying you. “Then what’s this, hm?” Din questions incredulously. You can hear the irritation in his voice, the anger.

Your chest heaves up and down, inadvertently making contact with Din’s because of his close proximity. But he doesn’t move, not even a step.

“I’m fine, I mean it.” But you don’t. You’re lying again. You bite down on your lip, struggling to hide the pain, to hide the way Din is making you feel right now.

His hand abruptly drops from your hip and clings to his side, his palms balling into fists as he turns away from you. Shit, he’s angry. “Would you stop fucking lying for one second and just be honest with me?” His voice strains against the modulator. “Admit what you did was reckless,” He turns towards you again.

Now you’re beyond angry. “Fine!” You practically scream. Why didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he understand for just one second? “It was reckless, sure. But fuck me if I think a little scrape is worth getting to save you!” Your voice is coarse and grainy as you hold back sobs, partially because of Din, and partially because of the searing pain at your hip.

Din rushes in and closes the space between you and him again. He lifts your shirt up, revealing the so-called “scrape” at your hip. “This is not little,” He huffs, letting the shirt fall back down, gripping your wrist tightly instead. He practically yanks you across the hull, forcing you to sit down on a crate as he shuffles through a box. He finally pulls out a med kit and some bacta spray.

“No, not that shit,” You say, scooting back until your ass is on the edge of the crate. The searing burn of the bacta spray would be worse than the blaster wound itself.

“Yes, that shit,” He says, grabbing your thighs and holding you down. You try to squirm away, but honestly part of you doesn’t want to. It feels good to have him this close, to feel him touching you like this. His hands wrap under the undersides of your thighs, his fingers gripping tightly against the inside as he pulls you closer towards him.

He’s quick as he takes one arm away, reaching for the bacta, while the other holds you down near your pelvis.

He looks up at you, noticing the anxiety spread across your face, the fear set deep in your eyes. You hear rough, short, modulating breaths from under Din’s helmet. You watch as his chest plate moves up and down faster than normal. He’s scared too, you know he is.

“Breathe,” He whispers, raising the spray up closer to your wound. You nod, swallowing harshly before taking a deep breath. He lifts his arm off your pelvis. There’s no reason to hold you down anymore, you aren’t going anywhere. Instead, his gloved hand meets yours and he squeezes softly. “It’s gonna be okay.” His sudden gentleness shocks you to your core, it makes your heart thump out of your chest.

A spritz breaks the silence, the bacta burning against your wound. “F-fuck,” You stutter, seething in pain. You absent-mindedly squeeze Din’s hand, and Din squeezes back.

“It’s okay,” He reassures, leaving his hand in yours as he searches through the med kit once again before pulling out a wrap. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.” He gives one last squeeze before his hand finally leaves yours so he can properly wrap your wound.

You can feel every single little touch, every press of his fingers. You’re suddenly on high alert, acutely aware of every breath that his vocoder picks up, every sound that he makes. He ties up the wrap on the other side of your body, being careful not to pull too tightly. When he’s done his hand travels back over towards the wound, now covered up thanks to him.

“Thank you,” You mumble. Your composure has melted away to sheer nothingness. You’re impressed that you were able to get any words out at all.

I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better

His thumb draws stars over where the wound is. “It’s gonna scar.” There’s something melancholic in his voice, a sense of dread. But all you can truly pay attention to is how he hasn’t pulled away from you yet, how his hands are still on you. You burn under his touch, a wildfire spreading across your skin.

“That’s o-okay,” You stutter, finally gathering the courage to grab his hand at your wound and hold it tightly.

He shakes his head, pulling away and standing up. “No, it’s not.” He’s suddenly cold, distant. You wanted him back, holding your hand, whispering in your ear. What had changed? Did you go too far?

“I’m gonna be fine,” You say, standing up slowly. “I can’t even feel it anymore.”

“That’s just because of the bacta spray,” Din says, his arms crossing his chest. You walk towards him, and when you get close enough, you reach up to his shoulder. You trace the beskar there, watching your reflection in the metal before looking back up at his impenetrable visor.

You shake your head. Your voice is sterner this time, more final. “But I’m going to be fine. Don’t-,”

He cuts you off. “Maybe you should leave.”

“W-what?” Your mouth goes dry. You can feel the tears already prickling at the corners of your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try your best to swallow it down. You search his visor for an answer, an explanation, but there is none. “Din everything is fine. The shot barely even grazed me.”

He doubles down on what he already made apparent. “You can’t stay here anymore. You have to go.” His voice is emotionless, robotic, metallic.

So this was the end? Just like that? Because you had gotten hurt one time?

“N-no, come on. L-leave? Din p-please it doesn’t h-have to b-be like this.” You can barely get your words out. Your tears are streaming freely now, burning with coolness against your hot cheeks.

He shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his side, as if he wants to reach out towards you, to touch you. But he doesn’t, he holds back, resisting. “You can go back to Luke. I can get you there before nightfall. We’re already in hyperspace. I’m taking you to Ossus.” He says nothing else. The words echo in your ears, driving a knife to your stomach, bursting your heart, and turning it into dust until there’s nothing left.

You can’t go. How are you supposed to live without him? He’ll never know how you feel, how you want him to feel. You’ll live an eternity chasing shadows, expecting him to appear around some corner on Nevarro or Tatooine. You’ll never hear his laugh again, feel his touch again. This wasn’t fair.

You swallow harshly, trying your best to at least croak out a word in protest. You could tell him how you feel, tell him how much he means to you. “I-,”

But he cuts you off again. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Din, but none of this needs to-,”

He’s not letting you finish. “Yes it does!” He’s shouting now, callously, mercilessly. “I’ll never be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” He pauses, breathing heavily. “You need to go somewhere safer, somewhere without me, somewhere with someone who can protect you.” His voice is softer now, defeated.

“You don’t know what I need!” The words fall from your lips uncontrollably. “And who says I can’t protect myself?”

“You can’t when you’re trying to protect me.” There’s that finality in his voice yet again, that tone that says the conversation is over, that you lost. “But if you go back to Luke, you can finish your training. He can keep you safer than I could.”

“But that’s not what I want,” You protest, but you know it’s no use.

“No, but it’s what you need.”

It wasn’t what you needed at all. You needed him. You needed Din.

The trip to Luke’s planet flashes by in what feels like an instant. Din is silent the entire ride. It kills you, absolutely crushes you. How could he be doing this?

And how the hell are you supposed to stop him?

Before you know it, the Crest hunches out of hyperspace, and Ossus comes into view.

“We can still turn around.” Your voice is shaky, unsure, anxious.

“No,” Din mumbles. “You have no idea how hard it was to get here in the first place.”

You scoff. Unbelievable. He doesn’t even care that you’re leaving him. He’s concerned with the fact that it was hard to fly the ship here. “Well I’m sorry. Guess I’m just wasting your fuel on a trip I didn’t even wanna take.” You’re the callous one now, and you’d regret it if you weren’t so hurt.

“Th-that’s not what I…” He trails off, taking a beat to collect his thoughts. “I wanted to t-turn back…the entire time…fought myself not to.”

Fuck.

His words hang around in the air for a moment before finally settling upon your ears and stitching themselves into your brain. The ship enters the atmosphere of Ossus and your stomach lurches forward, half in part because of your descent, and half because of Din’s confession.

“You’re crazy if you think I want this, mesh’la,” He whispers, turning towards you. “I’ve already done this once and it almost destroyed me.” He was right. You remember when you had brought Grogu to Luke. Din wasn’t the same until the little guy came back to your little family. Now it was your turn to leave him. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

The Crest whirs as it lands, a series of beeps and roars vibrating deep within the walls of the ship. Maybe it knew you were leaving. Maybe it was mourning your loss already, lamenting right along with you. Din stands up as the Crest settles into the ground, walking out of the cockpit and into the hull. He pulls a lever, and you hear the ramp lower, crashing against the ground.

You close your eyes, and keep your hands pressed into the arms of the co-pilot’s chair. You decided you’d fight leaving for as long as you possibly could. Din would cave in, and you’d turn around and go searching for another bounty, just your little clan of three.

He calls out your name. You flinch at his voice. This could be the last time he ever calls your name. The thought whirls around your head. You can hear his boots clanging against the cold, metal floors of the Crest, and suddenly he’s behind you. His gloved hand finds its way to your shoulder, squeezing once before relaxing.

“You’re meant for more than…” He trails off, and you turn your head to face him. “Than this.”

This. By this, he means him. He means bounty hunting, the Crest, whatever the hell this life is you’ve built with him. Maker, you built a kriffing life with him. And now it was all over.

“You’re wrong,” You whisper, doing your best to hold back your tears. “You don’t even know the half of it.” You stare deeply into his visor, wishing you could see the look on his face. But all you see is your reflection, your tear-stained cheeks, your bloodshot eyes. Heartbreak – this is what heartbreak looks like.

You can hear him sigh under his helmet. “You don’t belong with me.”

Yes I do. You want to scream it until your voice gives out, until your lungs are bleeding, until everyone in the galaxy has heard you.

But you don’t. You stand up. Din’s hand falls from your shoulder and grabs your wrist like he’s trying to give you a consolation prize. He turns so his visor is just inches away from your face. You’re so close that your breath fogs up the beskar. And then, he lets your hand go.

“Ret’urcye mhi, cyare.” His voice isn’t as confident or strong as usual. It’s weak, tremulous, shaky, unsure.

You normally don’t press about his use of mando’a, but this could be the last time you see him. “What does that mean, r-ret’urcye m-mhi?” Your pronunciation is horrifically messy, but you give it your best shot.

He takes a deep breath before answering. “Maybe we’ll meet again, someday.”

“Will we?” You ask, sniffling a bit, doing your best not to sob into his chest plate.

“I hope so,” He whispers, his voice so soft you can barely hear him. His hand moves from your wrist down to your hand, his thumb brushing delicately against your own.

You can hear your name being called by an unfortunately familiar voice in the distance, but you don’t move. You’d never move from this spot if you didn’t have to. You could stay here forever. You wished your feet could grow roots that stretched down far into the floors of the Crest, keeping you stuck here.

“You have to go, mesh’la.” There it is, that final crushing blow. He brings his forehead down to meet yours. His beskar is cold yet comforting. “I’m sorry.” You can tell he really is.

“Me too,” You croak, your voice in shambles. Din takes a step back, squeezes your hand one last time, and lets go.

He walks with you to the ramp. The sun glimmers against the shiny, greyish metal. The grass around the bottom shivers in the wind. At least Ossus was green and sunny. You take a step onto the ramp, expecting to hear Din’s boots clank after you, but he stands his ground.

He really was letting you go.

You turn your head to face him one last time. “I’ll miss you.” Your voice is quiet. You don’t want anyone else to hear your confession. You want it to be private, intimate, just between you and him, your Mandalorian. Except he wasn’t really yours anymore. He never was.

“With time you’ll forget.” His words take you back. How could you ever forget him?

You shake your head, almost out of protest. “Why, are you going to forget me?”

“Never.” His hands twitch at his sides, shaking as he clutches them into fists. His knuckles are turning white under his gloves. “Couldn’t.”

“Me either,” Your voice quivers in between short breaths. You break your gaze away from him and walk down the ramp. The second you hit the grass, you hear a switch get flicked, and the hydraulics churn.

You turn around as the ramp closes, watching Din’s body slowly disappear. You want to say something, but you can’t, unable to find the words, to form a sentence. Your mind is clouded with the understanding that you may never see him again. You swear you hear him say something through his vocoder, but you can’t make the words out. He nods. The ramp closes with a jolt.

That was it. He was gone.

You were all settled in with Luke. You had your own little hut – far more privacy than on the Crest, but it was privacy you didn’t want in the first place. The bed in the center of the hut is surprisingly soft, comfortable. But there’s nothing about this that’s enjoyable, salvageable. This isn’t home. It never would be.

And it was all your fault.

If you hadn’t put yourself in front of that blaster you’d be dancing in the hull with Grogu in your arms. Din would be rolling his eyes under his helmet. Or maybe you’d be somewhere cold, forced to huddle against Din for warmth. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe you’d already be on another hunt, hiding in some alleyway with Din at your back, his hand around your waist, pushing you behind him even though you were well equipped to handle hunting by yourself. What matters now are all those ‘what ifs’ and ‘never wills.’

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends

You curl up into a ball on the bed, the dark wooden frame creaking with every movement you make. Tears free fall down your cheeks as you struggle to swallow breathy sobs. You can’t breathe. It’s impossible. None of this should be happening. You woke up next to Din this morning, and now you’re on Ossus.

At your core, you don’t regret what you did at all. Din would’ve been dead had you not taken that shot. You rather him be alive and on the other side of the galaxy than dead at the hands of some psychopathic smuggler-king pin. At least he was out there, somewhere.

You shut your eyes tightly, attempting to force yourself to sleep, but it’s no use. You aren’t sleeping now. You push yourself up, swinging your legs around to the other side of the bed. Your feet press into the cold, stone floor, sending shivers down your spine. You immediately find your socks and jump into your boots. You grab your sweater from the edge of the bed and head out the door.

The night sky is unbelievably clear. You stare up at the stars and quietly wish that wherever you’re looking is where Din is right now.

You crouch down into the wet, green grass. The stems stab you a bit as you sit down, crossing your legs, readying yourself to meditate. You shut your eyes and the wind whips through you, the cold air clinging tightly to your body. Maybe the Force could give you answers. You take another deep breath, feeling your connection to the planet, to the ground, the dirt, only to be absolutely derailed by thoughts of Din.

You keep your eyes shut, trying your best to work through the distraction, but the memory of him doesn’t go away.

You’re in the hull of the ship, some alcoholic drink in hand, sitting closely next to him. Every now and then he’d look away from you, lift his helmet, and take a sip out of his cup. You had gotten him to talk about Mandalorian traditions. He had mentioned something about married Mandalorians kissing with their helmets on.

“It’s called a Keldabe kiss,” He had said, your head resting on his shoulder. His armor was off. It was the first time he had ever taken it off in front of you. Of course, the helmet stayed on.

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “Isn’t that a head butt?” You ask, laughter still heavy in your voice. Your head doesn’t move from its place, and you notice that Din’s head is now resting upon yours. You don’t know when his arm snaked around your waist, keeping you clung to his side, but he was warm and surprisingly cushiony.

A modulated laugh bursts out from the beskar clad man next to you. “Well yeah,” He chuckles, “But it’s really when two Mandalorians press the foreheads of their helmets together. It symbolizes a kiss.” His voice is so gentle, it’s almost subdued. He’s certainly more sober than you are. Din almost never drinks as much as you.

You hum softly in approval, your eyelids growing heavy. “Sounds nice,” You mumble. “S’romantic.” Your words slur messily. “I’d want a Mandalorian to do that to me.”

And that’s when it hits you.

Your eyes force themselves open, and it isn’t until you feel yourself falling that you realize you had been floating in your meditative state. “Shit!” You scream out loud, crashing to the ground with a thump.

You angrily dig your hands into the dirt, clawing at the grass, yanking the blades out the ground. How could you be so stupid? How could you have missed that one crucial detail? He had kissed you before he left. He pressed his forehead to yours, held you there, kept you close. He wanted you to feel it, to feel him.

You let yourself fully collapse against the ground, your head falling into your hands. You heave, sobbing intensely, your tears rushing down your cheeks, trickling onto your arms and down into the grass. You could’ve had him.

He wanted you too.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, as if he could hear you. It’s almost like you can still feel him. He’s yet another ghost of your past that’ll haunt you until the day you die. He’s another shadow, another thing you can’t get away from.

A crack from behind you tears you away from your thoughts. You quickly push yourself up and turn around. You shiver, the cold wind nipping at your skin. You squint your eyes, trying to look into the forest just a way beyond the huts. That’s when you see it: a dark figure looming in the distance, coming out of the woods.

But you’re not worried at all. A wave of relief washes over your body. You could feel him from a million miles away. You know that walk, those arms, those shoulders, the way his armor catches the moonlight.

Din.

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standin' in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me

You practically trip over your feet as you run over to him. “Din!” You call out into the darkness. You can see him picking up his pace, meeting you in the middle. You’re not even an inch apart from one another now.

“You came back,” You whisper, staring into the T of his visor.

“I’m so sorry, mesh’la,” He mutters, grabbing your hands in his. “I couldn’t leave you. I c-couldn’t do it.”

You swallow your tears, letting go of one of his hands to reach up to where the fabric of his flight suit and his helmet meet. You let your fingers gently brush against the small section of exposed skin. You pull him down towards you ever-so-slightly so that you can meet him halfway, your forehead pressing into his.

“I should’ve remembered what this was…” You trail off, recalling when he had done it earlier that day. “What it means. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You can hear his breath catch in his throat. “Come back with me,” He’s practically begging. “I don’t wanna live without you…” He’s struggling to get his words out, as if you’d ever be able to say no. “C-can’t live without you.” His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“You didn’t even have to ask,” You whisper shakily. Din pulls away from you, releasing you from his hold around your waist. He keeps your hand in his, guiding you into the forest and towards the Crest.

You hadn’t brought anything with you to Ossus – something about Jedis leaving possessions behind in order to start their new journey. You’d send a commlink to Luke in the morning explaining everything. He’d understand. He knew this wasn’t what you wanted.

After a short walk, the Crest appears in front of you. The forest is quiet, save a few frogs and bugs croaking and chirping in the darkness. Din pulls you closer to him again.

“I’ve got something to give you,” He mumbles, keeping your chest held against his.

“What’s that?” You ask, heat rising to your cheeks at the sound of his voice. Much to your dismay, he lets you go, but you don’t move. It feels good being so close to him.

But then his hands are on either side of his helmet, and there’s a click, and a hissing noise. Suddenly he’s pulling the helmet up. You can see the ends of brown curls, a chin. Before you can see anything else, you’re shoving your face into your hands, shielding yourself from Din. It was routine at this point.

“No, look,” He pleads, grabbing at your hands, pulling them away from your eyes.

Your eyes flutter open, and he’s in front of you, helmetless and beautiful. His brown eyes, curly brown hair, fuck he was beautiful. You take his face into your hands, rubbing his cheeks, exploring every curve, your fingers dancing along his cheekbones.

Your chest heaves as he lowers his lips towards yours. “Wanted this for so long.” His voice is clear, unmodulated. It melts against your ears, and you replay his words over and over again in your head, committing each and every sound to memory.

And then his lips are on yours, languid and smooth. He doesn’t rush, though you’re sure you both want to. You want him everywhere all at once. You want to be inside him, for him to be inside you. You needed him, needed more. He presses his body against yours, pushing back towards the side of the Crest. The ramp was already lowered, ready for you to go inside.

“F-fuck,” Din mumbles against your lips. The deepness of his voice makes your core tighten, and you close your thighs, rubbing them together, searching for some sort of friction. Din notices and pushes his knee in between you, spreading your legs again for him. “Wanna feel you, mesh’la.” He was going to be the death of you.

“Please,” You beg. “Please Din, do something…” You trail off, dragging yourself against his thigh, moaning loudly at the relief you feel getting yourself off against him.

He presses his lips into the crook of your neck, trailing gentle, wet kisses against your skin. “Want me to take you out here, against the ship?” He asks, his fingers ghosting down towards the waistband of your pants. He tugs on them teasingly. “Can’t wait until we get inside, hm?” His mouth is right up against your ear, and it feels like the entire planet is whirling by.

“Need you now,” You whine. You can’t help but roll your hips against him. Din grunts in response, tearing away your pants, letting them fall to your ankles along with your panties. His fingers suddenly meet your folds, eliciting a loud moan and a series of expletives from your lips. He teases you, his fingers toying with your clit.

“Fuck Din, please.” It’s already too much. You need him inside you.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He whispers, sinking a finger deep inside of you as his thumb rubs away at where you need him most. “So beautiful, so perfect.” He sounds so good, looks so good.

He takes his hands away from you, and you practically cry out at the loss of his touch. He undoes his belt buckle and throws his pants to the side in a blur that you aren’t coherent enough to recognize. You were too wrapped up in him. The way he pumps his length a few times before lining up with your entrance, the way his hair frames his face, the way his eyes catch the light of the moon. This was all uncharted territory for you to explore.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t going to explore it.

Din picks you up, your back resting against the wall of the Crest. You can feel the head of his cock pressing against your folds, lined up perfectly. He sheaths himself into you, splitting you open, bottoming out. You feel so full, so fucking good.

“S-shit,” You cry out in pure ecstasy, tears blurring your vision.

He huffs, groaning against your mouth, his tongue swiping against your lower lip, tasting you, trying to find more of you to touch. You could do this forever. “Knew you’d feel so good,” He says, swallowing one of your moans with another kiss.

It’s not until you feel his thumb circling your clit that you realize he’s holding you up with just one arm, his hand squeezing your ass as he pumps in and out of you. His rhythm is merciless, hitting the very spot you need him in every time.

“S-so tight,” He coos, his cock buried deep inside you. “So wet, so perfect for me.” Your noses touch as you press yourselves closer together. “Doing so good, pretty girl, taking me so well.” Every word, every thrust pushes you closer to the edge. You’re ready to break, ready to snap right in front of him.

Din presses harder against your clit as he pumps himself into you, hit after hit. He’s hungry for every inch of you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the exact same. You’re almost there, almost at your peak.

“D-Din,” You whimper, barely able to get a word out. “S-so close, feels so good.”

Din breath tickles your nose as he parts his lips. “I know sweet girl, I’ve got you.” You can feel him getting close too, chasing his own climax as he pounds into you. His pace becomes more desperate, crashing into you with more force with each rut of his hips.

Your walls clench around Din’s cock as his forehead falls against yours. “F-fuck that feels good,” He groans. “So beautiful, letting me take you like this. Wanna feel you come around me.”

That’s all it takes. You can feel yourself snap, the tension breaking in two. Your walls flutter around his length as you come undone, completely falling apart. You whisper his name like a prayer, like it’s the only word you know. Din is right behind you, his hips stuttering, coming inside you.

He circles your clit a few more times before he brings his hand behind your back, pressing your chest even closer to his. You’re flush against him now, his cock still buried deep inside you.

“I love you, Din. I always have,” You mumble against him.

“I love you.” His voice is soft, but certain. “Loved you for so long, cyare. Too long. Should’ve said something sooner…” He trails off, his brown eyes staring deeply into yours.

You shake your head. “No, this was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for the galaxy.”

You stay like this for a few minutes, his cock still hard inside of you. You spend the time catching your breath, stealing kisses, until he finally slips out of you, placing you carefully back onto the ground.

You and Din shuffle into pants before slipping back onto the Crest. And then, as if nothing had happened, you were back in the cockpit with him.

Except now you were his. And he was yours.

“Thank you,” You whisper, your gaze meeting his from the co-pilot’s chair.

“For what?” Din asks, a huge smile spread across his face. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to that smile. How did he get away with hiding it for so long?

Your breath hitches in your throat. He still makes you nervous. “For coming back for me,” You answer, a slight shake present in your voice.

Din smiles softly now, his hand reaching out to hold yours, just like he did earlier today. “Shouldn’t have ever let you go. I never will again.”

And he never did.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

Tags: @gram-cracker24 @angstyvirgin001

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 2 years

Text

Clan of Three - Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 5.9K

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

Warnings: Fighting, teenage behavior, small injuries

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A ship known by many for the man on board, he couldn’t even be described as a man. Skillful in languages, the ways of a blaster, and hand-to-hand, part of a race of the past. The bounty hunter, part of the creed. Their famous words, ‘This is the Way’.

The Mandalorian...

Dirt and dust fill the air as the Pre-Galactic ship lands on the planet of Nevarro. A sharp hiss comes from the landing gear as the large ramp opens up a man dressed in the finest armor and weapons stalks through the town. Looks and whispers as he makes his way through the town. A cantina filled with music and booze, its patrons conversating with one another or drinking their problems away but the arrival of this bounty hunter silences them instantly as his cold gaze scans across the room.

Spotting hidden in the corner a dark-skinned man who once his eyes meet his helmet raises a hand, “Ah, that was fast. Did you catch them all?” He asks and the hunter silently places all the tracking fobs on the table in front of him, “Good. I’ll begin the off-load.” The man nods at the seat in front of him and the other man sits down. Pulling his reward from his pocket and sliding them across the table.

“These are Imperial credits.” The Mandalorian says finding no use in them, the empire was something he didn’t want to support. The other man shrugs trying to convince him, “They still spend.”

The masked ban glares at the other man through his helmet, “I don’t know if you heard, but the empire is gone, Greef” His modulated voice shows his disgust and irritation.

“It’s all I’ve got.” The man puts his hands up and the hunter stands grabbing his trackers rather to give them to someone who will pay his preferred currency, “Save the theatrics…fine I’ll.” He sighs pocketing the money and pulling out a different payment, “I can do Calamari Flan, but I can only pay half.” He looks at other options contemplating them before grabbing the blue credits.

Greef signals someone in the cantina who leaves to unload the bounties on the ship, “Okay…I have a bail jumper, bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler-” “I’ll take them all.” The Mandalorian cuts off the man’s listing ready for new work making Greef let out a laugh.

“Nah, hold on. There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have.” He shakes his head but the bounty hunter didn’t care about other people, “Why so slow?”

“It's not slow at all. Actually, very busy. They just don't want to pay Guild rates. They don't mind if things get sloppy.” Greef explains leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the bar quickly bringing him a drink. The Mandalorian watches him twitching to get off this planet and onto the next bounty and reward,

“What’s your highest bounty?”

“Not much. Five thousand.” Greef recalled his highest payment for all those bounties, the price bothering the hunter,

“That won't even cover fuel these days.”

The Guild member nods slowly before one job he forgot to mention comes to mind, “Hmm. There is one job.”

“Let’s see the puck.” The hunter holds out his hand ready to start.

Greef shook his head taking a sip of his drink, “No puck. Face to face. Direct commission. Deep pocket.” This was not a normal occurrence, bounties always had a puck or something for the bounty hunter. The Mandalorian could only think who was so important to whoever wanted them dead or alive.

“Underworld?” Mando questioned,

“All I know is no chain code” Greef pulls out a chit card placing it on the table between the two of them taunting the hunter the offer not standing for long, “Do you want the chit or not?”

Arriving at the meeting with the client he hadn’t expected the empire to lead to a standoff with four remnant stormtroopers' blasters aimed at him and his weapons aimed at them. A hand stops the soldiers and they all lower their weapons the bounty hunter slowly lowering his but not putting it away. “He also said you were expensive. Very expensive,” The client gestured to him to sit, “Please sit.” The Mandalorian sits down hesitant his hand twitching at his gun when the client grabs something out of view bringing out something wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it the shining metal glisters in the light the same metal that decorated the hunter’s body. The staple of the Mandalorians is a metal of high value and meaning.

”Beskar?” He says looking at the metal brick surprised to see such a large piece of it.

“Go ahead. It’s real.” The client allows the hunter to inspect the ingot. “This is only a down payment. I have a case of beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the assets.” The client explains his payment being something large until the words acknowledged him

“Assets?” He was only expecting one bounty for this underground work.

The client nods his wrinkled hands folding together in front of him before waving a hand at the hunter, “I’m sure a man of your skill will have no trouble collecting two assets.”

“Alive.” The otherwise silent doctor pops in standing to the side with a data pad filled with whatever information,

“Yes. Alive. Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable for a lower fee.” The imperial man says and the doctor looks at him in shock, “That is not what we agreed upon.”

“I’m simply being pragmatic.” The client gives his final word before turning back to the silent hunter.

“Let’s see the puck,” He says needing more information before he could decide whether to take the offer. He was going to take it, the second the beskar was brought out he knew it was going to be in better hands once it was returned to the Mandalorians.

The man frowns looking away, “I’m afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement. We can only offer you a tracking fob.” The doctor hands the Mandalorian a tracking fob.

“What’s the chain code?’ He asked still prying for information.

“We can only provide the last four digits for each.” The client says.

“Their age? That’s all you can give me?” The Mandalorian says growing more frustrated.

“Yes. One of them is 50 years old while the other is 17 years old. We can also give you the last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skill should make short work of this.” The client smirks at the bounty hunters' conflict as he gets up and moves to leave. “The beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?”

His decision was made then.

The air was cool on your skin as you left your room slipping out through the window to avoid your father asleep just in the other room. It was calming walking through the silent town, but it quickly changes when hands grab you. One quickly covering your mouth to muffle your screams, you kick your leg back hearing a sickening crack as they roar in pain biting on the hand covering your mouth the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You try to run off knowing you couldn’t overpower the men, you go to scream out when something collides against your head and you crumble to the ground.

That had been about four weeks ago when you later woke up in a room chained to the wall having no idea where you were and even if you were on your planet. It had been about a week into your captivity when you gained a companion. A creature that must have been an infant had joined you. So you watched the child giving portions of your food since he needed it more and watched over him. Silences were common in the room you were being held in other than the babbles and sounds coming from the babe. Until a loud pop sounded muffled before another, you couldn’t tell what it was until the sounds of screams came with them. Gunfire…

The door burst open and two men enter one unlocking your chains and the other grabbing the child’s carrier bringing you out of the darkroom into a larger one. The sounds of fighting and gunfire grow louder out here, “It’s only two of them out there, why won’t they die!” The one with the child growls out pushing his carrier against a pile of crates the harsh movement making him cry out.

“Stop it. You’re going to hurt it.” You push the man away from the child. He whips around smacking you across the face it stings in pain. You glare at him and spit the blood that pools in your mouth right in his face. He wipes the red off him before quickly lifting his rifle slamming the butt of the gun against your temple and you crumple to the ground.

The fight on the outside is long over and almost unfair to the mercenaries, the doors leading into the building explode open with the heavy weapon the bounty hunter uses. The rubble falls around the doorway created as he enters followed by a droid, IG-11. It’s silent as he stalks inside, with quick reflexes as a lone enemy jumps out and is quickly shot down.

“Anyone else?” The bounty hunter calls out as the droid looks around before down at the tracking fob it had.

“The tracking fob is still active. My sensors indicate that there are two life forms present.” The Mandalorian scans the room coming upon a girl unconscious bleeding from the temple and an egg-shaped container behind her. The tracking fob beeps louder in the direction of both the girl and the container as the hunter cautiously opens it.

“Wait. They said 50 years old.” He looks confused at what was supposedly the 50-year-old asset but looked like a child.

“Species age differently unlike the female. Perhaps it could live many centuries.” IG-11 explains as the child slowly emerges from the blanket, this tiny green creature looks up at him stretching its hand out to him, “Sadly, we’ll never know.” The IG unit starts to raise its gun but the Mandalorian stops it.

“No. We’ll bring them in alive.” He says commanding the droid to stop and ignore its protocol.

“The commission was quite specific. The assets were to be terminated.” IG raises its two weapons aimed at the child and the girl.

A shot is fired, and the IG unit drops to the ground shot down by the Mandalorian. He puts his blaster back in his holster walking up to the child as it continues to look up at him in wonder. He shifts his gaze from the child to the girl, those two were meant to be his bounties.

Your head stung with pain as you were jostled around in a constant up-down movement. Blinking your eyes adjusting to the bright light, were you dead? Was this heaven? Your vision finally focuses and you see a helmet the visor a T-shape. Fight or flight kicks in as your fist collides with the underside of the mask hitting him straight in the jaw. Not expecting the attack he stumbles still holding you and you push yourself out of his arms. You hit the ground the sand cushioning your fall as you scramble to stand holding out the blade you swiped from his boot. A blaster is pointed at you but you keep your grip on the knife fierce ready to fight. You take in the man before you dressed in armor and weapons, but what had your eyes widen was the design of the helmet. Once you had seen before…Mandalorian.

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” You hiss out holding the blade with two hands as he has his blaster trained on you before he holsters it holding his hands out showing he was of no harm.

“You're on Arvala-7.” The man says you were slightly taken back that he spoke your language and not Mando’a but you still weren’t taking your chances.

“Who are you?” You glare the knife still pointed at him trying to figure out who he was through the helmet.

“I can’t tell you that but it’s either you trust me or let even more people who aren’t willing to have you alive.” Those mercenaries only kept you alive for whatever reason until this stranger showed up including the child. Your eyes widen…the child!

“Where is it?!” You demand, looking around for the child. You remember the hit of the gun before you were knocked out.

“Where’s what?” “The child.” You see behind him was the container holding him, the creature looking at both of you. “Oh thank the maker, I spent the last few weeks watching over it.” You sigh in relief and the man nods before walking off the carrier following after him,

“We should get going.” You rush after him pocketing the knife in your belt and coming beside him.

“You’re a Mandalorian…I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” You speak up glancing at the silent man, “What’s your name, you never gave one.” He barely looks at you before walking ahead so you were behind him making you scoff, “asshole.” You mumble under your breath dragging your feet through the sand. He continues silently despite the heavy armor that should be making noise as you all enter the base of a canyon. “So do you ever take off your helmet at all? Like even when you slee-”

His hand juts out making you run into it and you glare up at him from the corner of your eye you see his hand slowly reaching for his blaster. An ambush of Trandoshans wielding axes rushing towards you, one swings its axe at you when he shoves you out of the way. You hit the ground pushing yourself up from the sand when one of the bounty hunters wraps his arms around your waist lifting you up into the air and dragging you from the group.

“Hey! Let…me go!” You thrash in his arms twisting and turning in his grip trying to break free, the loud sound of a gunshot right by your head making your ears ring as the both of you hit the ground. You scramble away seeing the blaster wound in his chest and you look back seeing the Mandalorian holding his blaster pointed at you. He lets out a hiss of pain the metal of one of the axes slicing his arm, he prepares to counter when a blade is protruding from the Trandoshan’s hand. He looks back seeing you holding your hand out having thrown the knife before the both of you are attacked by more hunters. You can see one heading towards the child with your hunter busy fighting off two of them. Looking around having lost your weapon when you grab one of the axes the weight is heavy in your grasp. It’s right before the child when you swing the axe the weight and momentum striking its side a screech coming from it. It swings its own axe out and you block it with the handle of the blade the clang of metal and sparks ring through the air. Kicking out at its side making it cry out in pain you swing the axe digging it deep into its arm. You struggle to pull the weapon free and with its own weapon coming at you, you can only dodge letting go of the blade. If you had been a second late it would have been worse than the blade slicing across your cheek. It raises its axe to bring it down on you when it's shot crumbling to the ground. Looking up seeing the Mandalorian blaster still smoking as you quickly move away from the dead enemies to the hunter and the child.

“Thanks.” You breathe out your hand touching your cheek wincing from the pain pulling back and seeing red. He nods his attention turns to the ground where there is a blinking tracking fob.

“We need to keep moving.” He says the three of you quickly leave the canyon and the remains of the fight. Dusk had long settled the beating sun leaving only the cool night feeling nice on your sweaty skin. Out in the dunes camp had been set up the fire blazing on the open sands, your gaze taking in the embers floating into the air. You were used to this much sand and the heat hadn’t bothered you but it felt foreign now. You were somewhere maybe not in your same system anymore you hadn’t even been off your planet before. Your home was all you knew of and now you had people after you trying to kill you. A hiss of pain comes from the bounty hunter beside you trying to sear his wound up but unable to with the angle of the cut. You move closer trying to help when a blaster is pointed at you making you put your hands up.

“I was just trying to help.” You say slowly sitting back in your spot as he keeps his gaze training on you before slowly putting his weapon away and continuing to fix himself up.

“I don’t need your help.” He says and you roll your eyes turning away and looking at the small creature sitting on a pile of blankets from his carrier his round eyes watching the flames dance in front of him. “Hey.” The hunter calls out and you turn looking over at him in his hands bacta spray and bandages. You scoff looking away and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Hey!” He calls out moving closer and you turn more away from him, “You need to get patched up or it’s going to get infected.” You look over your shoulder glaring at him.

“I don’t need your help.” You mock his own words back at him and you could feel the annoyance and anger coming through his helmet aimed at you. You let out a shriek when his hand wraps around your arm spinning you around to face him, his gloved hand grasping your jaw holding you in place when you try moving back, “Let me go.” You push against his chest but he doesn’t budge.

He glares at you and you could feel the cool gaze staring back at the metal helmet making your movements come to a stop. He nods before beginning to clean the cut on your cheek before moving to one of your temples. You hiss out in pain when he presses too hard on the wound putting the bacta spray on.

“Would’ve been worse if you didn’t dodge,” He comments when you glare at him in pain, he continues tending to the injury, “Where did you learn to fight like that.” The stoic voice asks finishing pulling back and you bring your hand up touching the bandaged cheek and temple.

“Tatooine,” You say picturing your home the dunes of sands, the shouts of Tuskan Raiders, the wind in your hair on the speeder bikes, and the dual suns that made the perfect sunsets on the best days. “You fight to survive when you don’t got much…I have..had a pretty good teacher back home.” You correct yourself, were you ever going to go home or was this bounty hunter just going to cart you off to whoever wanted you? He nods looking down at his chest plate to fix it. Silence fills the quiet night as you look forward poking at the fire to keep it alive before glancing at the Mandalorian before you speak up.

“I want to thank you…for everything,” You say and you see him pause in his fixing, “You could’ve killed me and the child but you didn’t. I’ve only heard stories about your kind so I don’t know if it’s a religious thing or you're just different.” You quiet feeling embarrassed saying all that but one thought had been plaguing your mind.

“Are you…are you going to bring us home? The child and I?” The mask of his hides his face and anything you would be able to tell, his body language didn’t reveal anything and you couldn’t see his emotions through the metal.

“Yeah, kid…you should try to get some sleep.” He responds, his words bringing hope to believe this stranger. Fixing the child in his carrier asleep for a while before settling against the cool sands the night sky and the stars looking down at you. Whispers of sleep and dreams lull you and the Mandalorian hears a brief mumble from you,

“My name’s Y/n.”

The morning soon arrived and you were up following the hunter to what you assumed was his ship. Walking over the ridge there was his ship but it was getting dismantled by Jawas, creatures you were familiar with on Tatooine. Their large sandcrawler beside the ship loading the scraps.

“Dammit,” The bounty hunter huffs pulling his rifle from his back and laying down on the ridge looking down on the ship and taking aim.

“Wait what are you doing?” Your words are cut off as a beam is sent out hitting one of the jawas disintegrating it. The death of one of its kind sends them into a frenzy trying to run back to the ship as he continues to take out more. He quickly stands sliding down the ridge chasing after them as you and the child follow after him.

“You’re not going to be able to chase after a sandcrawler!” You yell out as he runs after it not before shouting back at you,

“Stay there!” He orders before you freeze watching him disappear with the sandcrawler leaving the two of you by the ship. It had been a while and he hadn’t returned neither did the sandcrawler.

“Kriff come on!” You say setting off after the bounty hunter the child following after you. Following the tracks of the large fortress before you stumble open a body laying along the ground recognizing the Mandalorian helmet. “Oh, maker please don’t be dead.” You say hovering over him, you debate taking off his helmet to see if he was breathing or hand a pulse. Your hands reach for the edge of the helmet ready to pull it off when he shoots up the strong metal colliding with your face making you fall back clutching your nose.

“Kriff! Dammit, that kriffing hurts!” You blink away the tears putting light touches against your nose trying to feel if it was broken. His helmet had to be built with a strong metal cause that hurt a lot. The hunter sits up groaning from his own pain of being electrocuted and kicked off a sandcrawler, “You’re a real asshole, stupid bounty hunter, stupid helmet.” You ramble off pushing yourself to stand your nose throbbing in pain and your head ringing.

He groans pushing himself to stand, “If it’s not broken then you’re fine.” He slings his rifle over his shoulder his body sore as the three of you return to his ship. You and the child sit against some rocks watching the hunter taking in the damage to the ship, he returns from inside the ship and you give him a look. He ignores it and begins to walk back into the desert. Having no choice but to follow, you walked through the dunes and plains the sun beating down on you. How was he not sweating in that armor? Your travels had the sun setting behind you and in the distance, you could see a structure. Growing closer you see it’s a moisture farm and there was a man fixing something.

“This is supposed to fix your ship,” You comment and he doesn’t acknowledge you walking over to the man who looks surprised to see him. You quickly learn the man’s name to be Kuiil as he brought you into his home feeding you the sun had long set the night here.

The Mandalorian stands beside Kuiil the two watching the child watching a frog with much interest chasing after it.

“I thought you were dead.” Kuiil says to Mando as they both watched the child playing with the frog, “These are what was causing all the fuss?” The two look away from the child to the girl, you were leaned against a crate a knife in your hand twisting it in your grasp. You meet his gaze glaring at him making Kuiil laugh. Mando looks down at his boot seeing his blade gone. How did he not notice you took it?

“She certainly doesn’t like you,” Kuiil says and the bounty hunter is silent watching you before turning away.

“I think that one is a child.” He says the child grabs the frog that he was playing with. Kuiil nods looking at the two bounties, “It is better for them to be delivered alive then,”

The bounty hunter shakes his head the problem coming up, “My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here.” He had been close to his fight with the Jawas before they gained the upper hand

“Stripped. Not destroyed. The Jawas steal. They don’t destroy.” Kuiil explains and the bounty hunter scoffs,

“Stolen or destroyed- makes no difference to me.” He retorted, frowning remembering what those little cloaked freaks did to his ship, “They’re protected by their crawling fortress. There is no way to recover the parts.”

“You can trade,” Kuiil suggested and the hunter looks at him like he grew three heads.

“With Jawas? Are you out of your mind?”

The older man nods his idea final, “I will take you to them. I have spoken.” They hear fussing and the child is shoving the frog into his mouth to begin devouring.

“Hey! Spit that out,” Mando called out and the Child swallowed the frog whole making you gag as you watch the whole interaction. The night had been spent traveling you had gained a cloak to protect yourself from the rain and by the time it was the day you had arrived at the sandcrawler.

Kuiil climbs off his blurrg leaving the three of you to watch as he greets the Jawas in their language. He turns looking back at the three of you mainly at the bounty hunter, “They really don’t like you for some reason.”

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them.” The hunter brings up and you could hear the angry noises coming from the cloaked people. His hand instinctively goes to his rifle as a fight almost brews. Kuiil holds out his arm giving a pointed look to the hunter, “You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.” He refuses.

“Your religion is about to get us killed.” You hiss at the bounty hunter who glares back at you.

“Then you’re not getting your parts back.” Kuiil says giving the final ultimatum. The Mandalorian sighs putting his rifle down and climbing off the sled. “And the blaster.” He sighs removing that as well. You go to follow him when he points at you.

“Stay.” He says and your jaw drops, you weren't some animal, “And don’t touch my stuff you’re not doing that again,” The memory of him forcing you to return the blade is still fresh in your head. Maybe he should be more careful of his items. You roll your eyes sitting back down with the child watching the conversation.

Kuiil listens to the Jawa before turning to the Mandalorian, “They will trade all the parts for the beskar.” He shakes his head blowing up in anger pointing at them,

“I’m not gonna trade anything. These are my parts. They stole them from me.” He says “They, they….belong to me!” He speaks Jawa though it’s truly bad and you stifle your laughter.

“You speak terrible Jawa. You sound like a Wookiee.” One of the Jawa says and he loses his temper swiping his hand out with his flamethrower making them all yell out.

“You understand this?!” “No! Whoa, easy, easy.” Kuiil quickly diffused the fight before speaking to the Jawa, “He is Mandalorian. He cannot give you his beskar armor. What else may he trade?”

You hadn’t noticed some Jawas coming by the sled until they were inspecting the child’s carrier and poking you with their staff.

“Hey! Stop it get away.” You stand up shouting at them in Jawa alerting the bounty hunter who stands up.

“Get away from them!” He shouts and they scatter away from the two of you.

“There must be something else,” Kuiil says and the Jawas turn to discuss amongst themselves before turning around.

“We will require The Egg. Bring us The Egg.” It says and your hunter looks confused, “The Egg? What Egg?” You were confused as well as Kuiil groaned facepalming as the Jawas continue to chant.

The Jawas allow you all to travel by sandcrawler before you arrive at a series of rocky formations. The three of you minus Kuiil dismount and begin to walk through the rock formations toward an open clearing leading to a cave. “Shouldn’t I have a weapon in case you fail or something?” You bring up and he glares at you ignoring your request leaving you and the child to watch him venture inside the cave. It’s silent for a bit before a loud roar comes from the cave and out comes the Mandalorian and a large mudhorn. You watch him fire blast at the creature before reloading his weapon and the creature charges throwing him against the mud.

“Not doing so well!” You shout at him which draws the attention of the beast who charges at you and the child, “Crap!” You shout rolling out of the way mud covers your knees and arms as the child’s carrier dodges in the other direction. The mudhorn turns ready to charge again when flames unleash burning it. It tries retreating back to its den but he latches onto it with a grappling line around the horns. Shaking him aside attacking with said horns and hooves to the ground. It goes to stop down at him you rushing forward when the creature suspends in midair. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while covers your skin as your hand whips around to look at the child its tiny hand held out. You hear the sound of the blade driving into flesh but your attention is focused on the small creature.

The Mandalorian slowly approaches the child seeing the look of slight fear on your face looking down at the child before it collapses in its cradle asleep. His gaze shifts to yours, your face seems plain but he could see the fear in your eyes that you were trying to hide. He turns walking back into the cave and returning with the egg. You had arrived back at the sandcrawler with the egg the Jawas rejoiced taking it and cutting it open devouring the insides.

“Mando!” Kuiil calls out to the bounty hunter.

“I’m surprised you waited?” Mando says and Kuiil nods looking at him,

“I’m surprised you took so long,” Kuiil says and the Jawas quickly prepare the sled with the parts of his ship. Then you were back off to the ship. You were sat in the back with the parts of the child’s carrier resting beside you as you look out on the horizon. You could hear their conversation but chose to ignore it, your mind more focused on what you had witnessed. You hadn’t imagined it you had truly seen it with your own eyes. That feeling that rushed over you had opened up something that had been locked up in fear. As you look down at this child you could feel a connection form.

The child was still asleep when you arrived at the dismantled ship, “There is no way we're gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility. This is gonna take days to fix.” Mando says looking over the wrecked ship.

“If you care to help it might go faster. There is much work to do.” Kuiil says ready to begin the repairs. The night continues over you all as the two repairs the ship. Your head is deep in wires in the cockpit the fusion cutter grasp in your mouth as you moved cables around. Maker, this whole ship was a mess, did he purposely want a ship that was slow? As you go to move another wire, you feel hands grab your legs pulling out from the open panel and you look up to see Mando glaring down at you.

“Why are you touching my ship?” He growls out, were you tampering with it to make this harder for him? You scoff pushing him away from you and crawling back to the open panel.

You ramble off fixing the wiring but it would just be easier to get an entirely new ship. “More like fixing, like how could you allow it to get like this! Your hyperdrive is so outdated that makes you two times slower than most ships. Then there are the core processes and your sensor systems dying on you. Your better off selling this hunk of junk and getting something that’s not Pre-Galactic, hey!” His hands grab your legs again pulling you out of the panel but you were already done. He pulls you up to your feet pushing you down to a seat.

“Stop touching things,” He snatches the fusion cutter, “Just don’t even move.” He glares at you which you equally return. He steps back before turning his back from you and heading down out of the cockpit. You cross your arms settling in, maker what an asshole.

Mando sighs the last of the repairs are finished having repaired or fully restored the ship’s systems and parts. He turns looking down at Kuiil, “I can't thank you enough. Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.” He says and the man shakes his head.

“I cannot accept. You are my guest, and I am therefore in your service.” He shakes his head and Mando nods looking at the ship,

“I could use a crew member of your ability. And I can pay handsomely.” He offers but Kuiil refuses.

“I am honored. But I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude.” Kuiil says and Mando nods moving towards his ship as Kuiil mounts his blurrg. “I understand. Then all I can offer is my thanks.” Mando says.

“And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley and good luck with those two. May they survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken.” Kuiil watches as the Mandalorian enters his ship sitting in the pilot's seat his two bounties beside him, the child was asleep in his cradle and you were leaning against the wall in your chair your eyes closed. He fires up the engines of the Razor Crest is roaring to life as he takes off leaving the planet behind.

To Nevarro.

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