#she took one look at din and grogu and went okay the kid is not the baby in this clan

[furiosophie]

the mines of mandalore: a summary

[nerdieforpedro]

Yes ma'am I am your new neighbor

Chapter One of "This is the Neighborhood Din"

Din Djarin modern AU x Sierra Harris (plus size OFC)

This fic is for readers over 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.2k

Summary: Din Djarin is moving into his new home with his young son Grogu. His next door neighbor decides to introduce herself.

Warnings: Din and Grogu being adorable father and son, nosy neighbor (she's nice though), Oogling (two separate occasions but who wouldn't?!), chill vibes

Notes: This idea of Din being a single father who moves into next door has stuck with me since last year. It was only a month ago maybe that I finally started writing it because I've had a block on other projects. So here were are! Please mind warnings at the start of each chapter. Thanks to @alltheglitterandtheroar and @megamindsecretlair for hearing me talking about this idea for a week straight while I wrote out the first part. ❤️ Divider is by @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist / This is the neighborhood Din Series

Moving day wasn’t that bad, it actually went well as Din surprisingly had a few of his coworkers show up to assist with moving furniture and boxes into the three-bedroom house he bought for him and his son Grogu. A new job in the suburbs wasn’t in his plans at all. Nothing really was except his job as a mechanical engineer. It was a cool spring morning and he found himself removing his black hoodie and tossing it over the side of the railing on the front of his home’s porch. Sweat coated the dark blue t-shirt he had underneath with a small cinnamon hand tugging on the back pocket of his gray sweatpants. The soft cotton of his shirt stuck to his back as he turned around to see his son peering up at him.

“Daddy, when are you gonna be done? I wanna play in the yard with you.” Little Grogu asked, poking his bottom lip out with chocolate eyes that matched his fathers perfectly. Din sighed and took his large palm to pat his son’s head.

“Not yet. I at least have to get all our things inside before we play, okay? Why don’t you take in a few of the boxes, and I’ll finish faster.” He suggested, to which Grogu gave a moment of thought and nodded, skipping to the U-Haul truck where two of his coworkers were taking out more boxes. They handed him the smaller and lighter boxes and the group kept unloading the truck.

Johnnie Mae Harris had been expecting her niece Sierra since the morning. “Lord that child is always late, be late to her own funeral.” She was sitting on her couch, with a sleeping four-year-old boy tucked under her arm. She heard some commotion outside and carefully rose from her seat, trying not to wake him. She peeped out of her kitchen window into the house next door. It looked like someone was moving in, there were four men moving boxes and a child carrying small ones. Maybe she would make someone to welcome them later after she figured out who exactly was moving in.

“Ms. Harris, whatcha lookin’ at?” A small voice asked, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t feel her warmth next to him and woke up. He didn’t see his mother or father outside the window so he was curious what else she could be looking for. He then spotted someone who might be his age, the only other kid was his baby sister and she’s two, she’s no fun at all.

“New people on the block Quinton. Not sure which ones though, could be all of ‘em.” It looks to Ms. Harris like the men had moved in all the boxes and furniture. One of them was leaving and three stayed, likely to place the furniture in the house. It was about lunch time, so she made sandwiches for herself and small Quinton. His sister Delia wasn’t awake from her nap yet, so she had a separate sandwich for her in the fridge. Johnnie Mae figured she could go say hello and figure out who was exactly in the house. It used to be her friend Mabel, but after her second stroke, she moved out of state with her daughter and son-in-law because she couldn’t care for herself anymore. Ms. Harris picked up Delia and put on her slip-on sneakers as she was already wearing a royal blue velvet sweatsuit that had capri pants. She did make sure she put on her black bob wig that covered her thinning gray hair. Not dying it helped her hair to stop thinning, but it still wasn’t growing back in as it did say twenty years ago. Now in her early seventies, Ms. Harris felt it was cheaper to have a few wigs than to sign up for all those supplements. Once she put jackets on both children, they made their way outside to see about these newcomers to the neighborhood.

Din was satisfied with where most of the furniture was placed or put together, dishes and silverware were taken out and put away. He wasn’t sure which box had the pots and pans he’d need for dinner tonight. “Dank Farrik…I feel like I set them near the kitchen area but now I can’t find them.” He scratched the back of his head, his soft taupe curls ruffling between his fingers as he surveyed the boxes again. He pauses, not hearing his son’s voice asking him what they’re having for lunch, that boy is always hungry… Din turns and makes his way to the front door, opening the screen door since either his son or his helpers left the main door open. “These guys…” He sighs, he appreciated the help, but he preferred things to be neat and orderly, basically non-existent with a five-year-old and doubly so from the workstations of these two. Tilting his head, he saw an older woman in a blue velvet sweatsuit holding a little girl and talking to his two friends. Grogu was playing with a boy who looked about his age. Maybe they lived here in the neighborhood?

“Why welcome new neighbor! Aren’t you a tall drink of water? I’m Johnnie Mae Harris, I live right next door.” Din watched as her red manicured nail pointed to the dark gray house that had stark white windows. He nodded and reached out his hand with a smile.

“Thank you for the welcome ma’am. I’m Din Dajrin. That is my son, Grogu.” A chuckle left his lips to see Grogo excitedly playing with someone already. Her grip was firm and she released his hand before adjusting the sleepy child in her arms.

“Did ya’ll boys have anything to eat for lunch? I just made the children here sandwiches. I can fix ya’ll somethin’.” Ms. Harris offered, Din was about to decline, but Grogu interrupted.

“Daddy! Quinton said that Ms. Harris has ham, cheese, and spicy mustard. I love the spicy mustard!”

Din was going to apologize but Ms. Harris stopped him and told Grogu to come on over to her house for lunch. The single father’s two coworkers checked in with him before leaving, making sure he didn’t at least need any more help with the furniture which he said he didn’t. Din followed his new neighbor and his son into her home. It was cozy, she had various knick knacks and black ballerinas and some soccer players which Grogu pointed to, and Din made sure he didn’t touch. He didn’t need to be breaking anything in her home. The sandwiches were welcome, and he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he ate two of the sandwiches and was looking for a third after downing two glasses of lemonade. Ms. Harris made small talking, asking about Grogo and what led Din to buy a house in the neighborhood. He told her that the schools were good in the area and thankfully it was closer to work and not further away, though he would have made the drive for his son. She wanted to ask about his mother and the very clear absence of both a wedding ring and a tan from one. It could easily mean he didn’t wear one, she knew some people didn’t or he be in one of those open marriages she’d heard about. Ms. Harris decided she could find that out later. She did offer to watch Grogu when Din offered to buy her more sandwich supplies after him and his son apparently had eaten most of hers. She agreed and wished that her niece was here. Once Din departed, she went back outside and watched the three kids play in the yard, Delia was awake now and saw someone new.

“I swear, if she doesn’t meet this man, I’ll have to make up some reason to do a second welcome to the neighborhood. Maybe he’s separated or something.” The caretaker mused, rolling her eyes at her niece’s continued absence.

Din returned with groceries for both Ms. Harris and himself. He assisted her in putting hers away first before taking care of his and thankfully finding the dishes, pots, pans, glasses and silverware in his black Subaru ascent. Having a few moments to himself were excellent. He could put more items away than if he had to worry about what Grogu might have gotten into. Most of the boxes in the kitchen and dining room he was able to clear out as well as in Grogu’s room and a few in his room. Before he realized, it was a few hours, and it was well into the afternoon. “Damn, I should go get him. I just hope he hasn’t broken anything; I know he likes to touch stuff. There’s a time and place, little one.”

Thankfully, Din didn’t have anything to worry about. Grogu was rolling in the grass with Quinton and Delia, the three of the giggling about some pirate king. Din walked up the stairs and took a seat in a rocking chair next to Ms. Harris. “Thank you for watching him, ma’am. He can be rather active, but he’s a good kid.” 

Johnnie Mae gave Din a sour face and pursed her lips. “Now Din, don’t call me ‘ma’am’. I know I’m old already. Just call me Ms. Harris. I appreciate that you’re polite though. You married hun?” She asked all in the same breath. Din blinked and she grinned, “I’m just curious. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those jaguars. I at least prefer men in their fifties. They’ve seen some things and might have some retirement money you know.” Her laugh was loud, and Din took a sigh of relief, at least she had a sense of humor. He pulled at the v-neck of his dark blue shirt to fan himself a bit. Given the time, the sun had warmed the air. The kids had long come out of their jacket and even Johnnie Mae took off the jacket of her sweatsuit to expose her black undershirt that said, ‘world’s best grandma.’ His shirt was sticking to him again, he normally did run hot and hated the warm spring days and summers. “You can take it off son. I’m going to go get you some water, you ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before.” As she opened her screen door and walked inside, Din could have sworn she said under her breath, “Looks a helluva lot better than what I normally see though.” This earns a wide smile from Din as he removes his dark blue shirt and drapes it across the arm of the rocking chair. He turns the chair diagonally to face where the children are playing to see his son running around with the other two kids.

It’s then that a blue Nissan versa pulls into Ms. Harris’ driveway. She comes back out with Din’s ice water and hands it to him, nodding as she does. “Thank you, Ms. Harris.” He says before drinking it and she stands at the top of the steps, momentarily wondering what would happen if she was thirty years younger….

A stout woman exits the car and looks up at Ms. Harris, then her eyes widen at the sight of an unknown man who’s returning her gaze from the corner of his eyes. His dark damp curls are stuck to the back of his neck, beautiful bronze skin with a light glisten of sweat coated his body. On his left arm, were three black lines with triangles drawn from each line on his forearm and before he stood up, his back had the skull of some animal with tusks but three blood red lines going through the skull. Rising from the chair to turn and face the new arrival, she was able to see that he had a thin beard, patchy but it suited him as well as a prominent nose and an angled slope to it. He was tall, broad and solid. His biceps and chest were well defined, but he had a soft middle for balance which didn’t hang over the gray sweatpants he was wearing. On the lower right of his abdomen was a helmet she could make out. He adjusted his glasses and put on the navy-blue shirt that had been on the arm of the rocking chair out of view when she pulled up.

“Dear Lord in heaven I am not dressed or prepared to talk to that sort of man any day.” She muttered as Ms. Harris made her way down the stairs toward her, she hugged her, and her arms wrapped around her as well, eyes still lingering on the man sitting on the porch. His sweatpants did not leave much to the imagination. They weren’t tight by any means; one could just trace the lines. Thick thighs and well… heavy in the middle is the most polite way to say it. The only way she can think to describe it while hugging her aunt.

“Hey Auntie Mae, thank you so much for letting me come up here.” The two women hugged for longer still on the verge of tears. In thanking her aunt, Sierra remembered why she was grateful her aunt opened her home.

Peeps who may also need to think of a polite way to say things while hugging a family member and oogling Din 👀: @readingiskeepingmegoing @604to647 @syd-djarin @yorksgirl @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @pedroshotwifey @drawingdroid @katw474 @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @soft-girl-musings @syd-djarin @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Nine)

Summary: After Bo-Katan and Din uncover the culprit behind Plazir-15′s droid malfunctions, they are granted permission to access the Mandalorian mercenaries and (Y/N) does her best to encourage the Nite Owl.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This one’s a little shorter than I originally anticipated, but I still had a lot of fun with it! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Nine The Mercenaries (Previous Chapter)

When (Y/N) was a little girl, her mother would often regale her with bedtime stories about the elegant balls once held at Naboo’s royal palace in Theed, where beings of all shapes and sizes dressed in the finest clothing the planet’s seamsters and seamstresses could offer and danced all through the evening. She always dreamed of attending such a soiree but she never truly believed that she ever would, so it came as quite a pleasant surprise when she and Grogu were invited by the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to a ball celebrating the happy couple’s wedding anniversary. (Y/N), dressed in a beautiful sea-blue gown embellished with sparkling jewels and with her hair carefully styled into an elaborate updo, and Grogu mingled with Plazir-15’s citizens, the former learning all that she could about the planet’s unique culture and the latter practically preening under all the attention he was receiving from their gracious hosts and the other attendees.

As the evening went on and both Din and Bo-Katan were nowhere to be found, a worried (Y/N) decided to try contacting her husband through his comm and learned that the Mandalorians’ investigation into the planet’s malfunctioning droids had become more complicated than either of them originally anticipated; they’d visited the Ugnaughts that worked far below the city, chased down a rogue battle droid and gained some insight on the problem after a visit to a droid bar named ‘The Resistor.’ They were heading to the city’s morgue to examine the battle droid’s remains for more evidence when (Y/N) called, and Din confirmed that they were still far from solving the planet’s ongoing droid problem.

“I’m sorry that this has taken so long, alor’ad. I know I said we’d be back soon-”

“It’s all right, sweetheart, I understand,” (Y/N) soothed, glancing over her shoulder at the glittering assemblage inside the palace before leaning against the railing and watching Grogu play with a frog that hopped onto the balcony. “How’re you holding up, Din?”

She could hear Din quietly sigh on the other end. “It’s hard to not think about what happened to my parents, of course, but knowing that you and the kid are safe gives me piece of mind, helps me focus on the task at hand. We’ll get to the bottom of Plazir’s droid problem, and then we’ll finally have access to the Mandalorian mercenaries outside the dome.” The sound of a door sliding open echoed through the comm and Din muttered a quiet curse. “I have to go now, alor’ad, we’ve arrived at the morgue.”

(Y/N) fiddled with the sleeve of her gown and forced an upbeat tone as she replied, “All right, well…be careful, Din, and we’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

The next morning, Din and Bo-Katan were still busy investigating the droid malfunctions, so (Y/N) took advantage of her circumstances and asked the Duchess for permission to access the planet’s vast records in the hopes of finding any information on Jedi Master Kelleran Beq; while there was nothing in their records about the Jedi who’d saved Grogu’s life, there was still plenty of information on the history of the Jedi Order and their exploits throughout the Clone Wars, so (Y/N) spent her morning reading in the palace’s great hall while the royals and their guests played garden games.

“Okay, let me get that for you, m’lady. Your toss, lovely.”

Looking up from her holopad, (Y/N) watched as Captain Bombardier handed a furled pill-bug to the Duchess and when her gaze lowered to see Grogu sneakily peeking out from behind the folds of her elaborate gown, she giggled and hid her amused smile behind her hand. The Duchess sized up the glowing rings positioned around the artificial turf before tossing the furled pill-bug into the air; just as (Y/N) suspected, Grogu raised his clawed hand and used the Force to send the pill-bug flying, where it bounced off two crawling pill-bugs and through four rings. The crowd cheered and Grogu cooed in delight as the Duchess and Captain Bombardier clapped in happiness. “A Quadro-blast! I’ve never seen such a streak! Wasn’t that splendid, Captain (Y/L/N)?”

“It was a wonderful toss, Your Majesty,” (Y/N) complimented from her seat near the artificial lawn and gave Grogu a subtle wink when he looked her way.

The sound of the doors opening drew their attention away from the game, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion when she saw Din and Bo-Katan escorting a handcuffed old man into the great hall. While (Y/N) slowly got to her feet, the royal couple cautiously approached the Mandalorians and Captain Bombardier tilted his head to the side in perplexity. “What are you doing with Commissioner Helgait?”

“We found the cause of your ‘malfunctions.’”

The guests gasped in shock and the Duchess held a hand to her chest. “Is this true?”

“I’m afraid it is, M’Lady.” Commissioner Helgait ducked his head in visible regret at the stunned tone in her voice.

Captain Bombardier shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “Despicable.”

The old man let out a humorless chuckle. “If that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This planet is unrecognizable since he arrived!”

“…I had a feeling you hated me.”

Ignoring the exchange between her husband and her head of security, the Duchess pursed her lips and fixed the old man with a saddened look. “I’m disappointed in you, Commissioner. You served my family well, but Captain Bombardier is the love of my life and I know his heart is true.” She rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder and flashed him a tender smile that he was quick to return; (Y/N)’s own eyes flicked over to Din, and she felt herself flush when she saw that the visor of his helmet was already angled towards her instead of the drama unfolding in the great hall. “Sure, he’s made some mistakes in the past, but who here among us has not? Is there no room for a little bit of forgiveness in a galaxy so vast?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded once and cast his gaze downwards. “I am sorry to have disappointed you, My Lady. Perhaps someday, I can earn such forgiveness from Your Grace.”

“Perhaps. As for now, you must live in exile on the moon of Paraqaat.” With a wave of the Duchess’ hand, four constable droids escorted the disgraced head of security from the great hall and after heaving a weary sigh, she turned to face (Y/N) and the two Mandalorians. “And as for you, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin of Concordia and Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Naboo,” (Y/N) released the breath she’d inadvertently been holding when the Duchess used her preferred name instead of her legal one. “I grant you audience with our deployment of Mandalorian privateers. I also give to you three our highest honor, the key to Plazir.” She reached for an oversized key resting on a silver platter held by a servant droid and offered it out towards them. “You will always be welcome in our domed paradise.”

As (Y/N) moved to stand beside Din, Bo-Katan smiled and stepped forward to receive their honor. “M’Lady. M’Lord.”

“Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I bequeath to you Plazir’s humble collection of Lomiya Corrik’s design sketches, personally commissioned by my family many cycles ago.” The Duchess smiled at (Y/N)’s stunned expression and handed her a leather-bound portfolio. “Although they held an honored place in my family’s collection, I hereby declare that they rightfully belong to the House of Corrik and its descendants.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) clutched the portfolio to her chest and bowed her head in a sign of respect. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Duchess looked down at Grogu, who was still standing at her side, and accepted the sword that one of her guards offered her. “And to this little one, I grant knighthood.” As she gently tapped the tip of the sword against his tiny shoulders, Bo-Katan fought back a smile and (Y/N) beamed with pride. “You are now a knight of the Ancient Order of Independent Regencies.” Both royals looked up at the trio and the Duchess’ eyes gleamed with thankfulness. “Go in peace, brave travelers. Until our paths meet again.”

“M’Lord. M’Lady.” Din stepped forward to scoop Grogu up into his arms and after resting a gloved hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back, they turned and walked out of the great hall. “A Jedi padawan, a Mandalorian foundling and now a knight; the kid’s collecting titles quicker than the galaxy can come up with ‘em.”

(Y/N) chuckled and while they stepped into their hyperloop pod, she reached over to caress one of the cooing child’s large ears and gave him an affectionate smile as Din placed him in his floating pram. “Of course he is, who can resist this cute little face?” He giggled when her fingers tickled the patch of skin just beneath his chin, and she looked over at her husband as the pod started moving. “So, did that head of security say why he was making the droids malfunction like that?”

“He was a Separatist.” (Y/N)’s smile fell as she watched Din shift in his seat and stare down at his boots. “He wanted to use the droids to disrupt the planet and collapse their society in the name of democracy.”

Exchanging a knowing look with Bo-Katan, (Y/N) rested a hand on the side on her husband’s beskar helmet and gently coaxed him to look over at her before placing her hand flat on the center of his chestplate, directly over his heart. “But you and Bo-Katan stopped his plan before anyone was hurt; you saved the citizens of Plazir, and you saved the innocent droids that Commissioner Helgait hijacked to carry out his bidding. I know that that wasn’t easy for you, sweetheart, and I’m proud of you.”

Din’s gloved hand moved to cradle her cheek and guided her closer to rest his forehead against hers in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss. “Thank you, alor’ad.” After a long moment, he pulled away and looked down at the leather-bound portfolio resting on her lap. “I’m glad that you were able to reclaim a piece of your mother and had the opportunity to see first-hand the lasting impact of her artistry. Can I take a look at her design sketches?”

“Now approaching landing field three.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to grant him permission but when she caught sight of Bo-Katan staring pensively out at the vibrant green fields surrounding the domed city, she carefully tucked the portfolio into her satchel and nudged her husband’s boot with her own as she replied, “Maybe later, after we…um, talk to the Mandalorian mercenaries.”

Din nodded and when (Y/N) patted his knee, he cleared his throat and addressed the troubled Nite Owl seated across from them. “They’re Mandalorians. You’re their leader. They’re going to follow you.”

The anxious look remained on Bo-Katan’s face as her eyes flicked down to stare at her gloved hands. “I’m not their leader anymore. Axe Woves is.”

“Then what’s your play?”

She sighed and glanced back up to meet their gazes. “I’ll know when I get there.”

“Well, no matter what you decide to do out there, Din and I believe in you; there’s no one who’s better equipped to unite both factions of Mandalorians, Bo.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging smile, and her heart warmed in her chest when the Nite Owl slowly returned it with one of her own. The hyperloop pod came to a stop and after stepping out onto the platform, they descended the many steps and walked across the vast field to where the Mandalorians established their base camp at its center; dozens of helmetless warriors stared them down as they slowly approached, and (Y/N) mumbled under her breath to Din, “At least when your covert stares, you can’t see all the judgmental looks they’re giving under their helmets.”

The Mandalorian huffed out a quiet chuckle and when the three of them stopped a handful of yards away from the base camp, Axe Woves straightened his back but remained seated on his cargo box and took a sip from his cup as he exchanged a glance with Koska Reeves, the Mandalorian warrior who’d helped them rescue Grogu from Moff Gideon. “Have you come back to join the mercenaries?”

Bo-Katan shook her head. “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet.”

“It’s no longer your fleet, is it?” Axe chuckled, gesturing around at the many ships and warriors that surrounded them. “I’m now in command, and grown quite fond of it.”

“Then I challenge you, one warrior to another.” (Y/N) and Din exchanged a look and Grogu anxiously cooed as the grin slipped off of Axe’s face and the Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves; the Nite Owl’s stony expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward and harshly continued. “Do you accept my challenge?”

Setting his cup down, Axe slowly got to his feet and clenched his gloved hands at his side. “I do.”

There was tension in the air as the two Mandalorians stared each other down and the helmetless warriors seemingly held their breaths as they stood completely still and waited in anticipation for the challenge to begin. In the blink of an eye, Axe fired a missile from his vambrace and while Bo-Katan used her jetpack to avoid the weapon, Din whisked (Y/N) out of the way and used his beskar-clad body to shield her from the small-scale explosion; (Y/N)’s eyes widened in awe as she watched the Nite Owl slam her Mandalorian opponent onto the ground with a powerful kick to his chest, and she could feel her husband’s arms tighten around her waist when Axe drew his vibro-blade and engaged Bo-Katan in hand-to-hand combat. Both Mandalorians were perfectly matched, slashing and twirling around one another with deadly precision, which made (Y/N) nervously bite her lip even when Bo-Katan managed to knock Axe down a second time.

“It’s okay, kid,” Din comforted Grogu after he hid his face away in his clawed hands to avoid watching Axe fly straight into Bo-Katan and slammed her into the hull of a Kom’rk-class fighter transport. “Bo’s got this.”

They slashed at one another with their blades and each managed to land several blows, the scuffle escalating when Axe fired another missile and Bo-Katan tackled him to the ground; she roughly dragged him to his feet and held her vambrace’s blade to his throat, spitting out, “Do you yield?” With a strangled yell, Axe ignited his jetpack and flew them both into the air, where they landed harshly on the top of another Kom’rk-class fighter transport. They exchanged more blows and Bo-Katan toppled over the edge, but she quickly ignited her jetpack and fired her whipcord to wrap around the Mandalorian mercenary’s ankles, pulling him over the edge and watching him land on the grass below. Axe rolled onto his knee and fired his vambrace’s flamethrower but again, Bo-Katan was quicker; she activated her shield gauntlet to block the flames and flew through the air, tackling Axe onto the ground and pressing the tip of her blade against the exposed skin of his neck. “Do you yield?!”

“You’ll never be the true leader of our people,” Axe spat out, his eyes flicking over to where (Y/N) and Din stood and his lips curled into a sneer. “You won’t even take the Darksaber from him. He’s the one you should be challenging.”

“Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands!” With one final shove, Bo-Katan stood and retracted her vambrace’s blade as she looked around at the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Axe picked himself off the ground and let out a mirthless laugh. “But a misguided zealot possesses the blade. One, I might add, who has not one drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.”

(Y/N)’s hands clenched into tight fists and she angrily started forward, but Din’s halting grip on her waist and Bo-Katan’s sudden words stopped her dead in her tracks. “Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the way, just as our ancestors did. He is every bit the Mandalorian that they were!” Her husband shifted uncomfortably beside her and she placed a soothing hand on the unarmored part of his arm. “Certainly as much as any of us…”

Shaking his head in frustration, Axe held his hands out and scoffed at the Nite Owl’s argument. “But according to our ways, the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber.”

“Then she shall have it.” (Y/N), Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries all looked over at Din in surprise; the Mandalorian stood tall as he patted (Y/N)’s hand and crossed the field to where Bo-Katan and Axe were standing and without a single ounce of hesitation, he unclipped the Darksaber from his utility belt and held it out for the Nite Owl to take. “This belongs to you.”

Bo-Katan, although visibly touched by Din’s selfless gesture, shook her head and gently replied, “It’s not a gift to be given, no matter how well intended.”

“It’s not a gift,” He countered before turning to address the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries, all while a confused (Y/N) exchanged a look with an equally-baffled Bo-Katan. “While exploring Mandalore, my wife and I were captured and this blade was taken from me. Bo-Katan rescued us and slayed our captor. She defeated the enemy that defeated me; would this blade then not belong to her?” The Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves, but none of them spoke up until Din repeated his question. “Would it not belong to her?”

After a long moment, Axe sighed and gave him a relenting nod. “It would.”

A smile tugged on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips as she watched her husband turn back to face Bo-Katan and once again held the Darksaber out for her to take. “I return this blade to its rightful owner.”

The Nite Owl slowly lifted her hand and wrapped her gloved fingers around the hilt, the look of uncertainty etched across her face slowly morphing into self-assurance when Din made his way back to where (Y/N) stood with Grogu’s pram and the other Mandalorians followed Koska’s lead in deferentially bowing their heads. With the barest hint of a smile, Bo-Katan took a deep breath and ignited the blade, staring down at its luminous glow and recognizing the culmination of nearly a thousand years of Mandalorian history in that moment.

“And you claim that you’re not one for politics,” (Y/N) teased when Din reached them and placed her hands on her hips as she arched an impressed brow. “I have to say, that was a political maneuver worthy of the New Republic Senate.”

“Coming from a former Rebel, I’ll take that as a compliment.” The Mandalorian patted a babbling Grogu on the head and handed over his silver sphere. “I never wanted the Darksaber, or the right to rule Mandalore. Bo-Katan is the leader that can reunite both factions Mandalorians, and I’ll be satisfied doing anything I can to ensure that her quest succeeds and our people can live a more peaceful life.”

With a tender smile, (Y/N) looped her arm around her husband’s elbow and stretched to press a kiss onto the beskar covering his cheek. “We both will.”

Din nodded and the two of them watched as the Mandalorian mercenaries offered their respects to Bo-Katan and acknowledged her claim to leadership of their faction. They were one crucial step forward on the road to reuniting the divided Mandalorians, but it was clear to each of them that they still had much more work ahead of them. Now we’ve gotta convince the mercenaries and the covert to get along and resist the urge to kill one another, (Y/N) thought to herself with an inward sigh, but if anyone can successfully squash generations of conflict and infighting, I suppose it’s us.

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

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain

A/N: Like I said last week, we’re having work done in the house and it’s been difficult finding time to write, but I’ll hopefully have the next chapter up on time! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Forty

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @elinedjarin @ccomandercody @crowleysqueenofhell​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovy-lady​ @impala1967666​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @icee228​ @siimiasoi​

[burnwater13]

The Majordomo standing inside Mok Shaiz's (not in frame) office while introducing Boba Fett and Fennec Shand to the Mayor. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 2, The Tribes of Tatooine. Calendar by DataWorks.

This story originally appeared on February 6, 2024. I'll be back to writing new content in a few days. Cheers!

Grogu wondered what kind of training you needed to become a Majordomo. He found the job fascinating. Or at least the manner with which Daimyo Fett’s Majordomo performed the work was fascinating to him. The Jedi hadn’t had majordomos and neither did the Nikto gang that held him. Did they all spent their time hedging, humming, hawing, and trying to get out of saying anything in a straight forward and simple manner? Or was that just what they brought to the job? A natural reticence?

He was going to ask his dad, but Fennec caught up to him first and asked if Grogu would like to help her with a task. Grogu of course jumped at the opportunity to help one of his favorite people. 

“I’m asking you to help because I know how much you and the Daimyo have in common. You’ll understand how to handle the situation in a manner that he’ll find satisfying.”

Grogu realized that Fennec wasn’t really telling him anything and pressed her for more details by tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at her. 

“Look Kid, the Boss has been on the go, non-stop, since the Pykes turned up. Good thing you and your dad showed up here to help out. But, what with one thing and another, like Cobb Vanth taking up all the time in the Daimyo’s bacta tank, Boba Fett hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. He’s asleep now and I’d like it to stay that way.”

Okay. That was better. Grogu did have a high regard for the Daimyo and was happy to help him in any way he could. He nodded his head at Fennec and offered to hold her hand.

“Save that for later, Kid. Right now I need you to go with me to the throne room and handle matters for the Daimyo. The Majordomo has a thousand things he wants to bother the Boss with, but I think you’ll be an excellent substitute. After that you can spend some time with the rancor. Your dad went to Mos Eisley, so he won’t be bugging you.”

Grogu thought about that. He and the Daimyo did have a lot in common, including knowing some of the same people. He didn’t mention that to the former bounty hunter very often. Grogu understood that the Daimyo’s father had met several Jedi and it hadn’t gone well. He was glad that the Daimyo didn’t hold that against him. 

He took a deep breath and nodded his head. Helping both the Daimyo and Fennec out and getting to spend the day studying the majordomo without the prospect of his dad nitpicking every choice he made was very exciting. He couldn’t wait to get started.

“Great. Come on. There was a bit of a queue forming when I left the throne room to find you.”

With that, Fennec scooped him up and before Grogu could even think the thought ‘Fennec must be a secret Jedi’ they were actually in the throne room. 

“Majordomo, Din Grogu will be acting on behalf of the Daimyo. Don’t run him ragged. His dad, the Mandalorian, won’t like it. You don’t want that.”

Wow! Fennec didn’t have to threaten Majordomo that way. Grogu was about to tell her that, because she had put him directly on the throne when she walked into the Throne room, but when he turned to look at her to remind her that Majordomo was his friend, she was gone! 

Grogu looked up at Majordomo and smiled. There was nothing to do than get on with the work.

“Very well, Din Grogu, we have many people waiting to see the Daimyo. The first among them is the head of the public market stalls. They complain that the stalls need more space around them to ensure proper flow in both directions. The problem is that the revenue will decrease because that would result in few stalls to pay the tithe demanded by the Daimyo.”

Hmmm. Interesting. Grogu knew the Daimyo would like the people to enjoy the market and fewer stalls would do that, but he also knew that the Daimyo did not want people to think that Tatooine did not honor the person who ensured their safety, day to day. He glanced at Majordomo with one eyebrow arched.

“Yes. Of course. You’re right. Let me bring them in to make their case.”

The majordomo bustled out of the throne room to the ante-chamber where all the people waiting for the Daimyo were cooling their heels.  Grogu sat back in the throne and tried his best to look big and intimidating. He was glad his dad wasn’t there to see him because the Mandalorian would probably ask him if he needed to go to the privy. Grogu really never seemed very intimidating to people, especially not his dad.

“Sir Din Grogu, who is honored by Daimyo Fett by acting on his behalf in all matters that come before him today, I am pleased to introduce you to the honorable head of Market here in Mos Espa. Ecuttel  Daeh. Sir Din Grogu has agreed to hear your request.”

Grogu did everything he could not to laugh as the slender green Mikkian stepped forward. They looked just like all the vegetable based ration bars that Grogu turned away whenever they were offered to him. He certainly hoped that he didn’t let his bias against such foods cloud his judgement. He wanted to represent the Daimyo fairly. 

“Master Sir Din Grogu, I have managed the Market stalls in Mos Espa for many years. We have never had a problem with the number of stalls. Nor any issues with crowding. I cannot imagine why the Daimyo would want to change anything as nothing requires change.”

The voice was silky, soft, and insistent. It reminded Grogu of the few Sith he had run into over his life at the Jedi Temple and after he’d left it. He could not imagine that the Daimyo would like that voice any more than he had. 

He leaned forward on the throne and tapped his fingers on the broad arm of the seat with his left hand. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I understand, great Din Grogu that change is inevitable, but how do we balance the needs of the people with the needs of our own. For we must protect those stalls from all manner of hazard and mischief.”

The silky voice tried again. 

Majordomo shifted slightly but Grogu shook his head. Then he sighed, long and deeply at the person standing in front of him.

“Majestic Din Grogu, I meant you no disrespect, for clearly you are the embodiment of the Daimyo while you sit on that throne. I understand that you understand these matters well and comprehend the delicacy of the work. We could switch to receiving a percentage of the the daily value bought or sold at the market and though there might be fewer stalls, more people will bring more credits as they find the experience of shopping there more pleasant.”

Grogu nodded and then made a swift motion with his hand, again on the arm of the throne.

“Of course, we will cap the value received to be no greater than the current rent, but having the daily percentage paid to us, our flow of credits will improve and cause less risk within the system overall. You are wise to take such a measure. Your predecessors’ did not have such foresight and I hoped to suggest such a measure to the Daimyo soon. This will be a great success.”

Grogu nodded and the slender Mikkian bowed deeply and then rushed out of the throne room. Grogu hoped that all of the Daimyo’s visitors were as easy to lead as that one.

“Din Grogu you have managed to do so much with just a few gestures. I am in awe of your skills at negotiations of this kind. Master Daeh has been most stubborn when I have addressed this matter with him.”

The Majordomo bowed deeply and went to fetch the next person who wished to speak with the Daimyo. Grogu considered that perhaps all those years at the Jedi Temple and then dealing with the Imps had prepared him for the problems that faced both the Majordomo and the Daimyo. He supposed that when he ‘spoke’ to the next person he could probably forego having an image of a lightsaber swirling in the background. Maybe he’d just create the image of a hovering Mandalorian bounty hunter and see what sort of results he got from that. 

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Chapter 18 Thoughts

Spoilers for The Mandalorian Season 3

Ngl, I have no clue how much of this episode I actually took in. It was... a lot.

Peli hiring the Jawas steal ship parts so she can con customers should not surprise me and yet I was surprised. 😂

Also happy to see they did not forget the fact that her tooth was knocked out.

Boonta Eve!

"Was that his first word?" Foreshadowing Grogu starting to speak maybe? 🤨

Okay so the whole droid situation being sorted out so quickly threw me off. I won't be surprised if they go back to IG-11 at some point but I thought that this episode would be about getting the part. Instead Din just picks up R5-D4 in the first 5 minutes.

And I know that R5 was in the ship in the trailers but I did not expect to see it this early!

Ugh, Din opening up about his past with Grogu. 😭

The dad vibes are gonna kill me.

Actually, back to the Grogu speaking thing, he does seem to be making more noises now. I wouldn't be too surprised if we started getting words.

Jeez, there's turbulence and then there's turbulence.

Note to self, flying into the atmosphere of Mandalore is not fun.

Aww. Grogu's worries about his dad. 🥲

THERE ARE MULTIPLE OF THAT THING?!

The scenery in this episode is great!

Totally forgot Din had a jetpack and was wondering how he was gonna climb all the way down there. 🤣

WTF IS THAT THING

Of course Din would get himself kidnapped by a giant robo insect.

I thought that thing was gonna spit roast him. 😭

He's clad in metal. He'd probably cook quite easily.

As much as I had no idea what was happening at this point, I did find the robots really awesome design-wise.

Hahahaha okay the Grogu sequence was kind of incredible. 🤣

Could Bo-Katan not tell that Din wasn't in the N-1? Like did she just think he was hunched over or something?

"Let's get rid of him once and for all"

Well that's ominous. 😐

Yeeess Grogu go help your dad

YOUR DAD 😭

Alamites. Okay. I will probably forget that name but good to know. 🤣

YAAASSS BO WITH THE DARKSABER

I don't love Bo-Katan but she looks very cool wielding that thing.

Also was that thing gonna drink Din's blood? 😦

YOUR KID

Honestly this "your dad/kid" stuff is hitting me right in the feels. 🥲

Hehe, Din sharing his soup with Grogu.

Okay, getting more into the Bo-Katan backstop. Interesting.

Din, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but everything you do goes incredibly wrong. How about we don't go into the dark body of water in the mines full of things that have been trying to kill you.

Din looks so odd without his cape. 🤣

DIN WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

Man sank like a fucking rock. 🤣

Also how was he gonna get proof of this? Like "hello here's my soggy clothing that got wet when I went in the Living Waters"???

THERE'S A FUCKING MYTHOSAUR?!

Okay, so I don't really know how to collect my feelings on this episode because it was a lot. Like episode one, they threw about as much in as they could in the time frame, making it feel a little bit rushed. Just as I started getting my head around one thing, it jumped to the next. That doesn't mean it's all bad though. It kept me on my toes.

Once again, this episode didn't feel particularly self-contained. They seem to have drifted more into this being serial rather than episodic, but we'll see how it goes as the season progresses.

There's been some interesting things set up in these first few episodes, so I'm excited to see where this season goes. This may be an episode I need to look back on to fully grasp what I even watched because so much happened. 🤣 Din got his ass kicked a lot this episode.

I definitely think I prefer Chapter 17 rn, but I still found this episode enjoyable! Part of it may be because the most recent episode of TBB was so good that Ch 18 didn't hit quite as hard.

Loving the chaotic father-son dynamic though and I'm very curious to see where we go from here because I do not have a clue.

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time is a social construct pt. 17

Mandalorian Time Travel AU

Summary: Din is trying his best, ok? But between trying to find a teacher for his magic kid and learning there were other Mandalorians who follow a different creed, Din is very confused and lost. So when he ends up on a plant that his HUD says is Manda’yaim and encounters two teens on the run from a group of dar’mandas called Death Watch, Din figures he way as well help them. He never meant to adopt them. Or become Mand’alor.

Masterlist

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            Din wasn’t leaving Satine’s side, no matter how much she said she was okay. Satine wasn’t safe here, and Din hadn’t fought off Death Watch for her just for them to kill her at home. Besides, Bo-Katan had glued herself to Satine’s side, so Din could uphold his promise to teach the girl about more traditional Mandalorian customs. It was a win-win situation, in Din’s opinion. Plus, Grogu loved Satine and was warming up to Bo-Katan, and Satine was not so subtly listening in on Din’s lessons. However, she had drawn the line at self-defense practice in her office, mainly because Bo-Katan had thrown some ornamental decoration at Din once.

         Obi-wan had been spending as much time with them as feasible. The poor kid had a lot of homework (apparently something Jedi still had to do) to catch up on, and there was definitely something Jinn was keeping from them- probably whatever had gone down during their council meeting. Din didn’t care too much; let the Jetii keep his secrets.

         The most amusing and annoying thing was that the more often Din was seen by Satine’s side, the more and more people took notice of him. One would think people would get over the novelty, but apparently, he was just becoming a bigger mystery. And, according to an article Bo-Katan had shown him, some people in Sundari were- ugh- ‘fangirling’ over him. Logically, Din knew in his time that Mandalorians were the subject of admiration, but to have it shoved in his face was unpleasant.

         All in all, it had been a quiet few days- putting Din on edge. That changed when Satine’s comm went off in the middle of a meeting. She had scanned the message, going from confused to concerned, before standing from her seat.

         “Excuse me,” she said primly, “I have just been informed of an important, unexpected visitor. We will resume this meeting at a later time.”

         Satine left the room, giving no room for argument, and Din followed her. “Who is it?” Din asked when they were alone.

         Satine spared him a glance. “Grandmaster Yoda.” It took Din a second to remember why he remembered that name, and he nearly stopped walking in shock. Satine didn’t attempt to hide her smirk.

         “Why?”

         Satine shrugged. “Obi-wan didn’t say. I can only imagine it has to do with you and Grogu.”

         Din’s mind was a flurry of concocted images of what an older Grogu looked like. They ranged from a normal-sized person that was green with giant ears to a wrinkly version of his son. It was a train of thought that Din cut off quickly.

         Din couldn’t check on Grogu to see what the kid thought about the situation- Obi-wan had asked to take Grogu to meditate with him and Jinn. Din was weak for Grogu’s tooka eyes, and he trusted Obi-wan to watch the kid.

         Guessing what Din was thinking, Satine said, “Obi-wan is bringing Grogu.”

         Din acknowledged her, and they continued in silence.

         The ship Yoda came in was small and had a marking on the side that Din didn’t recognize. He supposed that it was the Jedi Order symbol. No one had gotten off the ship by the time Satine and Din made their way over to Obi-wan, Jinn, and Grogu. Grogu cooed at Din, and Obi-wan transferred him over to Din’s arms.

         “He just landed,” Jinn told them. Satine straightened up, brushing back flyaway hairs and smoothing down her dress. Din was still getting used to her being dressed up; it gave an interesting look combined with her vambraces, which now had grey swirls covering them. Din was trying to convince Satine to get even more armor or consider armor weave clothes. Mostly, so she was more protected, but also because the pinched look on the New Mandalorians in the palace when they saw their Duchess in armor was funny.

         The ship’s ramp opened, snapping Din out of his thoughts. Grogu perked up and started babbling. Slowly, someone rounded the corner and appeared, and Din could just make out the sound of a cane tapping along the ground. No amount of pondering could’ve prepared Din for Master Yoda. He was short, would maybe only come up to Din’s knee, and his years were large like Grogu’s. Apparently, the ears just grew proportionally large to their body. Good to know. The man was wrinkled and had the faintest whisps of white hair on his head. Yoda click-click-clicked his way down the ramp, moving slowly even though Din had the feeling the man would move faster is he wanted. No one spoke until Yoda stopped in front of their group. Grogu had gone silent and was staring with wide eyes at Yoda.

         “Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, good to see you, it is,” Yoda spoke, having the weirdest speech pattern Din had ever heard. Would Grogu sound like that when the kid learned to talk? Want cookies, I do buir- “And Duchess, very sorry for your loss, I am.”

         Satine bowed her head. “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

         Yoda hummed and rested his hands on his wooden cane. He looked Din up and down, smiling when he rested his eyes on Grogu, who was still staring. “Introduce me, you should grand-padawan of mine. To be rude, it is not good.”

         Jinn cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, Master Yoda. This is Mando and his, uh, son Grogu.”

         “Son, you say? Hrmm,” Yoda said. “Adopted, I hope, fit under that helmet, your ears would not.”

         “Uh, yes. I did adopt him,” Din responded, feeling incredibly awkward under the older Jedi’s gaze. Yoda nodded sagely, ear drooping a bit- a startling familiar gesture that Grogu also had.

         “Been through much, Grogu has, I hear. Glad I am, the Force has brought you together, yes,” Yoda said. Grogu cooed at his name. “Yes, little one, remember you, I do. Only just born were you.”

         Nope, nope, Din wasn’t going to think about that. Except- “Are you his birth father?”

         Yoda laughed. “Me? Oh no, much too old I am for such things.”

         “Ah. Ok.”

         “Hm, yes.” Yoda turned his unnerving gaze back to Jinn and Obi-wan. “Taking long, he is.”

         “Who, Master Yoda?” Obi-wan asked with a curious tilt of his head. Jinn focused back in on the ship and sucked in a breath. At that moment, another person descended the ramp. They were a humanoid male with dark hair streaked with gray. They walked regally, nose turned up and cape flaring behind them. They looked like the mental image Din had connected in his head of a Jedi. There was something familiar about him.

         “Master Dooku?” Jinn muttered, and the man, Dooku, approached.

         “Qui-gon,” Dooku greeted, “Obi-wan. Duchess.”

         Satine smiled. “I was unaware you were coming along, Master Dooku, was it? I shall have the staff prepare you a room.”

         “Thank you,” Dooku said, ducking his head. When he looked back up, his gaze focused on Din and Grogu. Grogu curled up tighter in Din’s arms with a whimper- a reaction no one expected.

         “Grogu?” Obi-wan muttered, stepping to get a look at the kid. “What’s wrong?” Grogu whined again. “Count? No, that’s Master Dooku, Master Qui-gon’s master.”

         Dooku looked confused and concerned, his brows furrowing when Obi-wan said, ‘Count.’ “My apologizes; I do not intend to frighten you, young one.”

         Grogu gave Dooku the stink eye but relaxed. Din decided to keep an eye on Dooku.

         “Interesting, this is,” Yoda said, pulling their attention back to him. “Continue this discussion inside, may we? Old, we are, a cold we may catch.”

            Jinn barely stifled a sigh, eyes flashing towards the sky. Obi-wan was smiling, though.

         Satine seemed to startle. “Oh, yes, of course, we can go to one of the conference rooms.”

         “Going us, you will be, Duchess?” Yoda asked pleasantly.

         Satine looked uncertain for a second before she straightened up. “Yes. This situation involves my people too.”

         Yoda nodded as if in approval. “A good leader, you are. Come, let us go.”

         Obi-wan kneeled, and Yoda hopped onto Obi-wan’s shoulder, and in an impressive display of balance, Obi-wan stood and began walking. It looked so natural that Din could only assume Yoda did this a lot. Din caught Grogu looking up at his shoulder.

         “No,” Din muttered. “Not while you still fit in my arms.”

         Grogu pouted but quickly got over it as he remembered how much he liked being held. The walk to the conference room was filled with chattered between Obi-wan and Yoda, the older Jedi asking the boy about his adventures. Obi-wan was happy to tell Yoda about evading Death Watch, how they’d meet Din, and all the new foods he had tried. Jinn and Dooku were sharing whispers, some argument if Din had to guess. Occasionally Grogu would babble, and one of the Jedi would respond in kind. Din definitely wasn’t jealous that they could understand his son. Nope. No way.

         When they reached the conference room, they settled at the table, locking the doors to prevent unwanted interruptions. Din sat between Obi-wan and Satine, Grogu on his lap. Together, they recounted what they had gathered about the future, the kids saving Din from having to wear out his voice. The adult Jedi, while good at concealing their emotions, couldn’t hide their horror when hearing about the Jedi Purge or the glassing of Mandalore. Even the state of the galaxy after the Empire was abysmal. But when they were done, Grogu began furiously babbling and climbed onto the table to point at Dooku. Dooku looked like he didn’t know if he should be afraid or just confused. But all the Jedi’s faces crumpled at whatever Grogu was communicating.

         “No, I would never….” Dooku trailed off.

         “What is it?” Satine asked worriedly.

         “Grogu, Grogu says that Master Dooku led the Separatists- and was a Sith,” Obi-wan said, sounding shaken. Din shot up and grabbed his son while pushing Obi-wan and Satine’s chairs behind him. This was the man responsible for his parent's death, for the deaths of so many people!

         Satine grabbed Din’s arm before he could pull his blaster. “Don’t!”

         “We’re trying to fix the future, right?” Din all but growled, eyes still looking on Dooku. “Well, I know one way we can do that.”

         “Master Dooku is not a Sith!” Jinn complained, coming to his Master’s defense.

         “Don’t know what that is. But he’s the one who led the army that killed my entire village,” Din said hotly. “I think I’d be doing the galaxy a favor.”

         Dooku slowly stood up, keeping his hands planted firmly on the table. “You are angry,” he said. “Understandably so. I find it hard to believe I could do such things, but clearly, something happened. You want revenge, and I will not deny you that. Take it if you truly think I deserve it.”

         The room was tensely silent, Satine still hanging onto Din’s arm. Din’s chest was heaving, long suppressed memories returning- the sound of blaster fire, the sight of scattered bodies, the smell of blood and-

            A small hand was on his chin, reaching up under his helmet. Din took a deep breath and looked down. Grogu was staring up at him, wide eyes sad and, and- almost afraid.

         At that moment, all the fight left his body, and Din collapsed back into his chair. He hugged Grogu close, whispering apologies for scaring his son. A glance showed that Satine looked scared too, even if she tried to hide it, so Din pulled her in, and Obi-wan, too, for good measure.

         “The Sith still alive, likely they are,” Yoda said when Din released hi the kids, ears dropping sadly. “Grave news, this is.”

         “What are we going to do, Masters?” Obi-wan asked, eyes darting between the three Jedi. The three men shared a look.

         “Meditate, we will. See if answers, the Force will provide us.” Yoda nodded and hopped from his seat. He kindly smiled at Obi-wan. “Rest, you should. Long days ahead of us, there will be."

         They all walked back to the guest rooms together. It was late, and some of the staff had brought late meal to their rooms. They all agreed to meet in the morning to devise a plan of action and discuss if the Force told them anything (Din didn’t know how ethereal magic could speak to the Jedi using meditation, but he decided not to ask).

         Satine had told Din to rest in his room, insisting she’d be fine sleeping alone, that he should be able to sleep without his armor for once. Din somehow lost that argument, still rattled from learning who Dooku was- or, more accurately, would become.

         Din drifted asleep with Grogu curled up on his unarmored chest.

         It was barely light out when he woke up, not fully knowing what pulled him from his sleep. It took him a moment to register the beeping of his comm. Din was on high alert when we answered it, already out of bed and working his armor on. Satine’s frantic and slightly afraid voice came from the tiny speaker.

         “Din- we need you in the hanger. Jango Fett is here, and he’s demanding to speak to you.”

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[lunarspiral1127]

Work is a pain again, so here's my thoughts on The Mandalorian episode 20 *SPOILERS*

Mandalorian training for Grogu. Din is such a proud dad for him winning. Good for him, btw. But, I couldn't take Grogu seriously with the force jumping. It's because of how it looked, which is odd cause I'm used to the little guy force jumping. He did it 3 times in this season so far.

Apparently, foundlings on this planet get snatched up by space pterodactyls and get fed to their babies....and it happens many times....yeah, maybe that plus the giant crocodile from episode 17 should've been a sign to go to another planet that's safer.

Also, the youngling that got snatched after he lost to Grogu was the same pale kid who went through the Creed ceremony. And he's also Paz's son....okay, didn't know that.

The majority of this episode is a rescue mission led by Bo-Katan, which okay I guess. At least the main character still gets his moments.

So, that's how Mandalorians eat together...by going off to an isolated corner to take their helmets off to eat....okay.

Seeing Grogu's sad face makes me sad and I hate seeing Grogu sad. Poor sweet 50-something year old child.

This is the second time he's gotten visions of Order 66, which has me concerned that these are more like PTSD flashbacks. I'm just concerned overall of Grogu's mental health and the trauma he went through.

Speaking of flashbacks, this was honestly the best part of the episode for me, cause we got to see how Grogu survived. Was rescued by a jedi named Kelleran Beq. At first, I didn't know who that is, but I was happy to see another black jedi who's bad@$$. Turns out the actor playing him is Ahmed Best who played Jar-Jar in the prequels. That's cool, I'm glad he's doing okay. Also, Kelleran is a host of a childrens' game show, so is that canon to Disney Star Wars too?

Also, it's cool to see the Naboo soldiers helping Kelleran and Grogu.

Grogu with his rondel. It's covering his whole front, I can't! 😆🥰

Okay, you mean to tell me that the kid spent at least a day in that space pterodactyl's insides and didn't come out slimy or looked injured or hurt? I don't know how it works with these creatures, but Ragnar should've also been traumatized from getting snatched up, eaten, and about to be eaten again.

Am I the only one that kinda felt sorry for the space pterodactyl? All she was trying to do was feed her babies. But she ended up being food for the space croc. Well, at least the group took the babies in and will take care of them.

So, I guess the Armorer doesn't believe that the Mythosaur still exists? I don't know if it means that Bo-Katan will go bring proof, but okay.

Yeah, this episode was shorter and a bit simpler compared to the previous one. I still have no idea what the main plot is, cause there's usually one in The Mandalorian. And, we're like halfway through this season. Bo seems to be okay(?) with staying with The Children of the Watch even when she called them a cult. At least, I think she is? I guess she doesn't have any other options left since her home is gone and the rest of her team left.

I do have concerns about this season. It seems like Bo-Katan is getting more of a focus than Din and Grogu, like how Din got more of a focus in The Book of Boba Fett than Boba Fett. It was worse in The Book of Boba Fett, I think, cause Din and Grogu still have their moments. But, we'll have to wait and see with the rest of the episodes.

[cutieodonoghue]

invisible string (9/18)

summary: modern soulmate birthmark au; After Omera lost her soulmate, she lost hope she’d ever find love again. Then, a short time before Earth’s first colony ship will be sent to a place they call the Outer Rim, she meets a Mandalorian whose touch makes her Soul Mark burn. (Mandomera!)

rating: hard T

word count: ~5.3k

prev. chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

read chapter 9 down below or on ao3!

-

Chapter 9: A Soulmate Bond (Part 1)

“Naturally, your souls will grow closer as you engage in life together, and it is in this space that we have learned the most growth comes in most Bonded relationships. Within the first handful of weeks, expect to discover what research claims is ‘the second Bond’: a level of intimacy only soulmates can understand.” - The Guidebook to Soulmates (pub. 2039, Motto)

 -

Din walked Omera home. 

Her day was longer than his, so he waited on her office couch until she was finished. They exchanged little glances every so often while she juggled an endless whirlwind of tasks and his heart skipped a beat when she smiled, no matter how prepared he was to see it.

Fennec watched their private looks with a wry smirk on her lips, but she never said anything about his arrival to her office. She seemed to just know … something. 

On the way back from the office, Omera told him that Winta had already made it to her friend’s house for the night, so that meant they could speak somewhat freely when they went up. 

Grogu was young enough that anything they might talk about would go over his head, but Din still wanted to be careful. He was the one unpredictable permanent link to the Mandalorians that he had.

“Ohhh ‘mera!” Grogu yelled happily. 

He sat in the sandbox in the playroom with toddlers his age, but quickly climbed to his feet and rushed toward Omera with his arms held high above his head.

Omera laughed warmly and bent down to grab him. The kid fit on her hip as easily as he fit on Din’s. It wasn’t hard to see how much mutual affection existed between the pair.

“Hi, Grogu. Did you have a good day?”

Grogu nodded. “Yep!”

Omera turned to face Din and pointed at him so Grogu would look. “Din’s here, too. I think he missed you.”

Grogu curled his fingers into Omera’s shirt as he looked at Din. His cheek touched Omera’s and he waved hello, but refused to move.

The subtle rejection stabbed Din's side, but he took it in stride. The kid was two years old and as a responsible guardian, Din wanted him to feel comfortable around others- especially Omera, who would likely have a permanent place in Grogu’s life.

He grabbed Grogu’s backpack and carried it while Omera asked Grogu questions on their way to the lifts.

“What do you want for dinner? Do you like…” She paused thoughtfully and a playful idea flashed in her eyes brightly. “Mac and cheese?” 

Grogu nodded at her. “Cheese!”

“Yummy.” Omera smiled affectionately at the boy. “We can have some mac and cheese.”

Grogu cocked his head. “Winta?”

“Winta’s not going to be home tonight,” Omera said apologetically. “But that’s okay, because we’re going to have so much fun without her. Do you want to go to the beach?”

Grogu grinned. He reached a hand out toward Din. “Da?”

“Yeah, buddy,” he nodded. “Just us tonight.”

He seemed satisfied and rested his cheek on Omera’s shoulder. She left a soft kiss against his head and soothed her hand against his back.

In the back of Din’s mind, there were images he conjured up of Omera with Grogu as he grew older. It was a future he wanted, but he tried to suppress it so he wouldn’t be disappointed if it never came to pass. 

There was still plenty of time for things to go wrong. He and Omera still needed to decide what they wanted- together. It didn’t matter that he decided to choose this path for himself. What mattered was what she wanted, and if it worked in tandem with his desires.

When Omera opened the apartment door, she glanced over at him and smiled. “Do you want to help me cook?”

“I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be…”

She chuckled. “That’s okay. I can teach you.”

Omera lowered Grogu onto the floor when they were in the kitchen. He waited with an expectant smile for Din to hand him his bag. It operated solely as a carrier for the toys he needed to get him through the day while in the care of others.

“Patu! Patu!” Grogu chanted as he clapped his hands.

Din knelt down as he passed it off. “Were you good today?”

Grogu bobbed his head. He always said he was good. It wasn’t always the case, according to his teachers, but Din rewarded him anyway. 

“What’d you do?”

The boy ripped open his backpack and reached inside for his rabbit. He gripped it tight under his arm before he dove back inside the bag to find something inside.

He held up the day’s art project: a piece of paper with a frog drawn by one of the helpers that Grogu had colored in every single color imaginable, to the point it was barely visible beneath it all.

“Rrrribbit!” Grogu hopped to illustrate the frog.

Din chuckled. “Very good. I like it.” 

He put the picture back into the backpack and looked in it to see what else he carried around with him. There were a few thick building blocks they’d have to return in the morning and a toy spaceship that he thought was one of Grogu’s, but couldn’t verify.

“Grogu go space!” He bounced and looked up at Omera. “Vrrrrroooooom!”

Omera laughed, the sound as bright as the sunlight that poured into the apartment. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re going to space. So is Din.”

Din set the toy into the bag again and stood. “Omera’s going to space, too.”

“Ohhh ‘mera go space?” Grogu asked with a tilt of his head. 

“Mhm,” Omera replied. “You’ll have lots of friends when we get there.”

Grogu seemed satisfied with her response. He and his bunny tore away from the kitchen and into her living room, where he flopped down on the floor and made boyish sounds that Din had grown very well acquainted with.

“If you’re going to cook, I’d rather you didn’t wear your gloves,” Omera told him gently. She set a hand on his lower back and pressed her chin against his bicep. There was quiet fondness in her eyes that felt like home. “Are you going to take your helmet off?”

Din took a soft breath. “If the kid sees me without it, he might say something. I don’t want to risk it.”

She smiled. “Okay. I don’t mind either way.”

When she pulled away, she went to the sink, where she rolled her sleeves up past her elbows and took the time to carefully wash her hands. 

He caught a glimpse of her Mark and his heart leapt. It was impossible to forget about their Bond because he felt it deep within his soul, but to see it on display was something else altogether. It was on her wrist where anyone could see; a permanent indication of the fact that she had found her soulmate- him.

Din pulled his gloves off and set them on the kitchen island before he grabbed Grogu’s bag from the floor and walked it into the living room.

“I’ll leave this here, okay, pal?”

Grogu spun his bunny like it was his favorite spaceship toy and sat up straight, his hair a mess where it fell on his forehead.

“Okie.”

Din waited for the boy to rush over to the bag before he stopped him with a hand on top of his head. The kid giggled in surprise. It was one of his favorite ways to play.

He let go, gently at first to let the kid know what was about to happen, before he fully pulled his hand away. Grogu ran circles around the living room and then crashed onto the carpeted floor with an oof.

“Help please!”

Din bent down and scooped Grogu up with one arm. He hoisted him into the air above his head until the kid giggled and shrieked. When Din was done, he put Grogu on his hip.

“I’m gonna go help Omera.”

“Help!”

Din looked over at Omera in the kitchen briefly before he nodded. “Can we leave the bunny?”

Grogu tossed his favorite toy down onto the couch when Din carried him toward it. Then, they went into the kitchen together.

“Grogu wants to help, too.”

Omera smiled widely at that. “Oh, good. Wash your hands first. I’m going to set the water on the stove and then we’ll work on the cheese.”

“Cheese!”

She chuckled. “You like cheese, don’t you?”

Grogu bobbed his head as Din set him down on the counter beside the sink.

“Hands, kid.”

The kid was more talkative than Din thought he’d be with Omera, to the point that most of their evening was spent focused on Grogu’s happiness with their choices. 

It wasn’t hard to make the kid happy. He liked everything they did.

They shared a meal gathered around Omera’s dining table, but as usual, Din didn’t eat. He instead listened to Grogu babble to Omera, words that sometimes needed to be re-contextualized for her sake. She laughed more than she usually did and it made the kid laugh, too.

It was tempting to hold her hand when they left for their walk, especially when he looked at her for longer than a handful of seconds and saw her content smile. But he couldn’t. It was a secret, their Bond, and he didn’t want to put it in jeopardy.

Grogu held both of their hands instead and dictated how fast they walked with his hops against the paved sidewalk. They swung him between them once and it was all he wanted to do for the rest of the walk. He giggled until his eyes had tears in them.

Omera scrunched her nose up at Din, delighted at the sounds of joy Grogu made. He felt nothing but happiness in his soul- met with an equal joy from Omera’s. It was so easy to be happy that he wondered if he’d done something wrong.

While they sat outside of their favorite ice cream place at Omera’s suggestion, Din’s phone went off. Just one message stared back at him when he checked. Seven words. Easy words. No pressure- except for absolutely all the pressure in the world. 

Come to training at the covert tonight.

For a few moments, he stared at the screen as if he could make the words disappear. 

His duty as a Mandalorian had not dissolved just because of his decision to allow his Bond to Omera to mean something. He still owed loyalty to the covert, and to the Way. He would have to learn how to become Mandalorian in a new way, a way that would allow him his Bond with Omera and the almost impossible clarity that came with it. 

“Is everything okay?” Omera’s voice pulled him away from the device in his hand.

Din’s jaw clenched and he stuffed his phone into his pocket once more. “I have to bring Grogu to the covert tonight.”

Omera’s eyes widened with surprise and he could tell by the frown on her lips that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Oh.”

Grogu, who sat between them on his own chair, held out both of his hands and shared that he was finished with his ice cream with a happy, “All done!”

Omera laughed. “All done? Good job, Grogu. You finished the whole thing!” 

She had napkins at the ready and wiped his sticky ice cream fingers clean before Din could do the honors.

He hated the idea that their night would have to end. He wanted it to last longer, to at least give them a chance at a conversation. With the kid between them, it was difficult to guide the conversation to what they really needed to discuss: they were soulmates.

“If you want, you can come with us,” Din suggested. “They want to see that we visit training for a little while. Maybe fifteen minutes at the most.”

She glanced at him as she wiped Grogu’s cheeks. “How far away is it from here?”

“Ten minutes,” he replied easily. A sigh slid past his lips a moment later. “They keep bringing it up that I haven’t brought the kid as much as I should, but he won’t be able to train. He’s…”

Grogu giggled, an infectious noise that came straight from his belly, at Omera’s attention to his nose and cooed when she kissed his cheek. She hummed a sweet laugh at the interaction and finally lifted her focus to Din again.

“He’s two,” she finished for him with a knowing smile. “Are there many his age?”

Din shook his head. “He’s the youngest. The next oldest are six.”

“Well, if you don’t think it will be a problem if I wait outside, I’ll join you,” Omera said with a shrug. “I don’t have anything else to do tonight.”

Together, they cleaned the table as best they could with napkins, and when it came time to walk Grogu away from the ice cream shop, he wanted Omera to hold him. She accepted the responsibility with a happy smile.

“He’s so small,” Omera remarked. “I would hate to see him get hurt by someone bigger than him in training.”

Din nodded in agreement. He hated it when the kid got hurt by mistake on his own. He could only imagine the way his blood would boil if Grogu was hit the wrong way by another kid. 

“The doctor told me he’s small for his age,” he shared. “He wasn’t fed well before I found him.”

A frown creased her brow and she held him closer. “He probably wasn’t taught much about social skills, either. He can be so quiet.”

Grogu played with a strand of Omera’s hair and she smiled as she kissed his cheek. 

“It’s okay to be quiet sometimes, Grogu,” she murmured. “We love you no matter what you do. Even if you make messes. Right, Din?”

While he had never admitted to himself, or to the kid, how he felt about him, it was fairly obvious that she was correct: he loved the kid. No matter what he did, no matter how little he obeyed Din’s instructions and made messes of everything he touched, that feeling never went away.

“Yeah,” he confirmed in a soft voice. “You’re pretty special, kid.”

Grogu’s bright brown eyes shined back at him in the silence that followed and a smile stretched across his face toward his ears. The kid was happy and it had everything to do with the fact that he had found people who loved and cared for him.

Din listened to Omera talk about work troubles for the rest of the way to the covert, and by the time they arrived, he lost any inclination of desire to enter. Just about any other conversation topic or activity would have been a better use of his time.

The covert was positioned between a laundromat and a coffee shop, so when they stood in front of the little corner cafe, he slowed down to ask Omera if she’d wait there. There was no need for her to spook any Mandalorians just by standing outside, and the coffee shop had a few tables near the window that would make it easy for her to surveil in secrecy.

She agreed with a soft, easy smile and a nod that matched it. “Don’t forget me out here. I still want to talk tonight.”

“We won’t be long,” he assured her as she set Grogu down on the sidewalk beside Din. “I want to talk, too.”

As if drawn to him by an invisible magnet, Grogu reached for his hand and tilted his head back with a sweet lopsided grin. There was nothing wrong in the kid’s world. No dueling allegiances. No soulmates or Bonds. There was just happiness, and there was Din.

“You ready, kid?”

Grogu didn’t say anything, so Din looked again at Omera. She eyed him nervously and he nodded at her.

“We’ll be right back.”

Without another word, Din guided Grogu toward the covert and smiled when the kid began to chatter about Omera, confused why they'd left her behind.

“We’ll see her in a few minutes,” he promised. “Just gotta do something first.”

The air conditioning inside the covert was refreshing compared to the heat and humidity of the evening. Upon entrance, he heard the toughened and fierce sounds of Mandalorians deep into the training session for the night. 

The kid’s fingers tightened around Din’s. “Da?”

Din looked down at the boy to try and get ahead of any anxious feeling that might arise, but became quickly distracted when the door opened behind them and another Mandalorian entered.

The first thing Din noticed was that he wore a uniform that bore the logo of the apartment where Din and Grogu lived on his chest, and there was a little tab that read: maintenance. 

While he had a lot of questions about this Mandalorian maintenance worker, he knew not to ask. It would be better to take a careful approach- to learn by inference.

Din’s eyes met his. They exchanged nods. 

“Are you here for training?” the unfamiliar Mandalorian asked.

“It’s his first time.” 

Another nod followed a quick glance down at the boy at Din’s side. “It is good to start them young.”

Grogu tried to hide behind Din’s leg, so he scooped the child into his arms and set him onto his hip. The kid wrapped his fingers around Din’s thumb to soothe himself.

“Welcome.”

Din turned at the sound of his accountability mentor. A full suit of armor covered their body, traditional for Mandalorians engaged in combat, and they held in one hand a training staff. 

“I see you’ve met Paz Vizsla. He is new to the area.”

He glanced over at the Mandalorian in question. There was an air of judgment in the way he tilted his head to study him. Paz was taller than him, his muscles were bulked with daily use, and he wore a necklace that bore an insignia to denote his rank within the covert. 

Paz was a leader. He also appeared to work at Din’s apartment building. The coincidences felt too unique to be random, but he trusted that they were. There was no reason for any leader within the covert to be suspicious of Din’s behavior. If they cared at all, they would have mentioned it already.

“I’ll see you around.” Vizsla’s voice was low, even, and void of any emotion.

The man stepped apart from Din and made his way toward the doors that led into the training room. Din could hear a group inside already hard at work.

Grogu kept his face turned toward the outside doors behind them like he wanted to leave and his fingers tightened around Din’s thumb. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Din told his mentor. “He doesn’t feel safe.”

“There is only one way to teach him to feel safe here.”

With a reluctant nod, Din took his thumb away and ran his hand against Grogu’s backside. “Come on, kid. Want to show you something.”

The sight of a full room of Mandalorians engaged in fights against one another was a familiar one for Din, but a new one for Grogu. The kid was quiet as he took it all in, his fingers tight in Din’s jacket while they found a place they could watch from.

When Din eventually managed to get Grogu to stand on his own again, his fingers gripped his pant leg instead, but he didn’t cower or hide. He just watched, glued to the way the Mandalorians in full armor sparred in front of them.

Grogu tilted his head up to look at Din and then reached for his hand. 

“All done?” He waved his fingers at the Mandalorians in front of them. “Bye bye!”

Din couldn’t help but smile. The kid’s innocence was so pure that he hoped he’d never lose it as he grew. 

“You’re done? We just got here.”

“Ohhh ‘mera,” Grogu mumbled with a shy grin. 

His heart squeezed with affection. The kid wanted the same thing he did: Omera. 

From across the room, Din caught the eyes of his accountability mentor, and then Armas, before he glimpsed the new Mandalorian Paz Vizsla.

Would any of them care if he left not ten minutes after their arrival? Would they notice?

Din swept his thumb across Grogu’s fingers and nodded back at him. “Okay, kid. Let’s go see Omera.”

He carried the kid out of the training room without another look back, but with full knowledge that at any moment he might get called out for this decision. It wasn’t as if there were dozens of onlookers for training, and he’d been purposefully invited to attend. 

Through the glass doors and windows of the covert lobby that peered out on the street just outside, he saw Omera. 

She paced around directly in front of the covert with her gaze averted to instead study the ground beneath her feet. He could only imagine why she’d left the coffee shop where he left her, but the fact that she had done so didn’t bother him.

He and the kid stepped outside and Grogu immediately cooed, “Ohhh ‘mera!”

Omera looked up from the ground and a bright smile spread across her face. With just the sight of it, he felt the same security he used to feel when he was with his parents- nothing could go wrong and he was safe again. 

“Hi, Grogu!”

Before they could fully rejoin her, he heard his name from behind him and his blood immediately turned cold. Din turned to address the owner of the voice, but Grogu kept his eyes on Omera, a direct assault on any positive impression they might have left on Armas.

“Is everything alright?” the covert leader asked. “You just arrived.”

Din nodded. “He’s just… tired.”

He put his hand on Grogu’s back, but the kid squirmed restlessly and wouldn’t stop until he put him on the ground. Happy to be free, the child toddled away and went directly to Omera.

Armas, of course, didn’t miss a single beat. “Who is this?”

“Hi,” Omera said politely. She came toward Din and stopped beside him. “I’m Omera. I live near Din and Grogu. We were just out for a walk tonight.”

The Mandalorian leader stared at Omera in silence before her eyes fell directly onto him. His heart began to race. His fingers flexed uncomfortably by his sides.

“The kid needs more time to feel safe around Mandalorians,” Din told Armas. “I will bring him by more often to try to acclimate him.”

“The child is not my primary concern,” she replied coolly. “Come back again soon to participate in training.”

Before he could respond, she turned around and entered the covert again through the automatic doors.

Din closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. When he turned to face Omera, her brows pinched down with nervousness. He could sense in his soul that she was anxious, but there was also something else- guilt, maybe. 

“Let’s go home.”

Omera’s silence combined with a slightly unsettled feeling in his soul, which made for discomfort while they journeyed back to their apartment building.

“She wasn’t happy to see me,” Omera finally determined. “I thought Mandalorians were supposed to be good to everyone.”

His eyes closed briefly as his chest tightened with anxiety. “She suspects you’re my Match.”

Omera’s eyes widened slightly. “You didn’t tell them who your Match was?”

“No,” he sighed. “They know that we work together and live nearby.” With a glance at Grogu, he shook his head. “Wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together.”

She nodded slowly. “Right.”

If Armas knew from inference that Omera was his Match, all it would take was one misstep. He treaded dangerous waters, but he wouldn’t stop. Omera was worth the danger. He'd found something in their Bond that was worth fighting for; something in her that he wanted more of.

“How are we going to do this?” Omera asked. “It feels so… impossible.”

“What feels impossible?” he responded, unsure of what she meant.

“We Bonded…” She paused and flashed her pretty eyes at him while she smiled softly. “Usually that means… a relationship. I don’t know how we’ll manage it with everything fighting against us.”

Din’s mouth went dry. His hands flexed awkwardly. He couldn’t see straight. 

When it came to the idea of a Bond, and by extension a soulmate, it was easy to comprehend the value and meaning. He’d quickly learned when they Bonded what it meant, and although he was a novice to it all, he was sure about it. 

However, he’d never been in a relationship. It was against the Way to pursue anything more than a friend at the most basic level. It terrified him. 

At the same time, he knew that she was part of him, that she was safe, and he wanted more of her in his life. If that’s all a relationship required, he would easily partake.

For a few steps along their path toward the apartment, they were both deathly quiet. Even Grogu seemed to pick up on the silence and babbled, “Hi!” 

Omera chuckled. She allowed the kid to wrap his little fingers around one of hers. “Hi, Grogu.” 

When she eyed him again, she cleared her throat before she said slowly, carefully, “I’ve always heard that the beginning of your Bond is the best time to figure out the rhythm of the relationship.”

His heart flipped. “What does that mean?”

A playful and sweet smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She appeared to be completely unaffected by the fact that he knew so little about relationships and soulmates. In fact, she seemed to find it endearing.

“Getting to know one another better,” she replied. “Our souls might be Bonded, but we need to bond in other ways.”

Other ways. 

All at once, his mind sought out answers to what she meant: a relationship was built by not just the soul, but by the body, heart, and mind as well.

“Is that what you want us to do?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Omera met his eyes. For a few seconds, she was thoughtful as she swept her eyes across his helmet. Then, with a nod, she smiled and gave an easy and light, “We already have. All those late night phone calls... taking the kids to watch the sunset... we just need to keep it up in different ways. It’s what's normally called dating, but with a Bond, it’s... unique.”

Din nodded back. He swallowed thickly. “That’s how we'll fight back. We’ll keep going.”

At first, she smiled gladly at his response, but in an instant her expression changed. She softened and became more serious and thoughtful instead. There was a crease in her brow and her lips were downturned as she cautiously tipped her head to the side.

“Are you still sure about this?” she asked nervously. “Our relationship doesn’t just affect us. We have kids… we’ll be on a new world soon… there won’t exactly be room to keep apart in a small colony.”

From what he could tell, she was the one with second thoughts. He’d already made up his mind. He knew she was what he wanted, and he knew he’d make plenty of mistakes as he tried to pursue her in the future- but it would be well worth it.

“Are you unsure?”

The last thing he wanted was for her to hang onto any sense of regret or remorse when it came to him and their soulmate Bond. If she needed more time, he’d give her all the time she desired.

“No, I’m…” Omera stopped herself short of a complete thought. 

He watched her soothe Grogu’s fingers against her own. Her sigh was heavy and full of something he recognized: fear.

“Are you afraid of me?”

Omera’s gaze lifted away from the walk ahead of them and she shook her head instantly. “No. Not of you.” She sighed once more. “I’m afraid of myself.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She hesitated. Her eyes shut briefly. “I’ve hidden from relationships since Winta’s father died. What if I can’t be what you need?” Her voice wavered some when she continued, a bold and real admission that came from a secret place, “What if I’m not enough?”

Din wanted to help. He wanted to assure her that it was impossible for her to fail him- that he’d help her, they’d help each other- but their arrival to their apartment building was met with a tired yawn and whine from Grogu.

Omera helped the kid into Din’s arms and their eyes met briefly before she smiled softly and nodded back at him. Grogu’s fist clenched the fabric of his jacket tightly and he whimpered wordlessly.

He looked at Omera when they stood in the elevator. In the quiet air around them, there was a soft expectancy that emerged from the unanswered questions that remained.

“We’re soulmates,” he reminded her. “I’m sure we’ll both disappoint each other, but our Bond won’t go away.”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds and sighed, “You’re right.”

Din reached for her hand to squeeze it gently. “You’ve given me so much already, Omera.”

Her eyes watered and her smile was weak as the elevator doors opened. He didn’t want to let go of her, but did so out of an abundance of caution. All it would take was one mistake in front of the wrong pair of eyes and it would be over.

The walk to Omera’s door was long and silent. When they stood in front of it, she turned to him and nodded at him hopefully.

“Thank you.”

He quickly became very aware that she would be all by herself for the night, but he’d never presume she wanted him to stay. It was time to get Grogu into his bed anyway. The kid was heavy and his sleepy breaths almost felt contagious when he realized a weight in his own bones.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he promised. “Good night.”

There was disappointment in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with a kind smile. “Night.”

Grogu was mere minutes from sleep when Din tucked him beneath the covers of his bed, freshly changed into his favorite astronaut pajamas.

“Did you have fun tonight, kid?”

Grogu reached out toward Din’s face with his fingers spread. “Night night.”

In response, Din leaned down and touched the crown of his head ever so gently to Grogu’s. It was their version of a kiss on the forehead. The boy’s fingers settled against either side of his helmet and he made a little happy grunt.

“Night, buddy.”

When he finally stepped out of Grogu’s bedroom and checked his phone, there were two messages from Omera.

Omera: Would you like to come back over?

Omera: We can talk some more once he’s asleep. 

The proposal was innocent, and he’d allow it to remain that way, although he couldn’t help but think about the fact that she asked him this because she was alone. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was for that type of interaction: just the two of them in a safe, private space- uninterrupted.

It would give them the opportunity to bond in other ways, as she’d prescribed. His soul stirred with desire for those new ways, to be refreshed and fulfilled again and again in vibrant color. 

Din: Be right there.

-

Read Chapter 10

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Comms

Title: Comms

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Teen reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG

Warning: Cursing, mention of wounds, blood, scared Mando.

Description: In an unexpected raid, Din finds himself unable to find his foundlings and searches for them.

Request: Hey! I love your stories and thought that I would submit a request myself. So this is about Din having a teen foundling/adopted child. They’ve known each other for a little over a year now and even if they don’t show it a lot they’ve grown attached to each other. So this particular story would be about the foundling nearly dying and Din being a scared Dad (I hope you get what I’m going for. Kind of a fluff/Angst story with comforting afterwards😅)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been travelling and my computer has been messing up so I have not had time to write at all. Anyways, here it is! I hope it's to your liking. It took me awhile for inspiration to hit but I am pretty happy with how it ended up. Enjoy!

....

“Okay kid, what do we do when we get in trouble?”

“Call for help and signal our location.”

Call for help and signal your location. That was all you were supposed to do, the one rule Din gave for you before he took you along with him anywhere outside of the safety of the Razor Crest. He considered himself lucky that you rarely wandered off without letting Din know where you were going, and that you always seemed to be able to handle most dangerous situations on your own. Maybe it was because you fretted to be too much of a bother for Din, seeing as he took you in almost a year ago when he could have easily left you. Din didn’t see it that way, if he was honest. You were valuable to the group, taking care of Grogu and the ship when Din could not, and he believed it his duty to protect all on the ship. Only once or twice did you call for him, and he was quick to come to your aid.

He did not think that today would be the day where his timing risked your life.

The Mandalorian found himself aiding a local trading village with a raider issue in exchange for information about a bounty he’d been pursuing. He’d led a group of men over to what they’d suspected to be the raider’s hideout and set up for an ambush. The Entrance of the cave’s dunes felt barren, and only after the mens’ legs grew sore from crouching and backs ached from huddling in the dark was it that Din began to suspect something was wrong. The quiet environment was abnormal behavior to the raiders he’d encountered before, no doubt this specific group would be any different.

“They’ll see you!”

Startling the men surrounding him, Din shot into the air and stalked the vicinity. The dunes’ walls stretched for meters long as he kept his piece raised, occasionally scanning weak spots for life forms or any piece of equipment. He paused, frowning a moment when his scanner detected nothing.

That was the first sign that things weren’t going as planned that day.

“...hiss…”

“...m..do... v.llage... here…”

There was the second.

Din raised his arm to speak into his comms.

“Y/N?” Nothing but static came back from the comms. Din fidgeted and smacked it a couple times before grunting in frustration.

Damn, comms were jammed.

Wait, they were jammed.

And in a moment of a horrible realization, Din was quick to grab the men and make their way back to the village. When they arrived they found the village in chaos- buildings were burning, villagers running, and materials and pieces and bodies strewn across the ground. For a moment, Din froze in fear and worried that you were on the ground as well, your comms still ringing static and Grogu taken from you, lost to the raiders, or worse, the Empire.

Din quickly made his way throughout the village, barely rounding the first corner when a group of raiders assaulted him. He threw punches at the first raider, using their momentum to kick them hard into another. After several dodges and shots from his blaster, most of them were dead aside from one that laid on the ground and clutched his blasted leg.

Din marched over and pressed his blaster against the wound. “Where are the hostages being held?”

As it turned out, the raiders had no plan of keeping hostages. When Din finally tracked the building where captives were supposedly held, he was unable to remain collected when he found that you and Grogu were nowhere to be found. Instead, he stood before raiders responsible for the attack, their blasters disturbingly put away as they argued amongst one another. Din didn’t bother listening, he looked around but saw no sign of his foundlings.

“Wrong door.” He said simply before taking out his blaster and shooting the raiders.

Pocketing his piece Din ran out of the stronghold and went outside, calling for you and Grogu. He thought about the worst possible scenarios that could have happened to you two as he took out the raiders pillaging the village, until all but one remained, the leader. He found him in the main courtyard of the village, his face hidden though his body seethed with labored breaths. He stood there for several moments before Din heard one last labored breath before the leader’s legs buckled beneath him and he slumped to the ground with a sickening crack of skull on stone. Hm? Din didn’t know what to make of this, and further stalked over, hand on blaster, examining the body. Upon closer look a blaster wound to the stomach was made more visible. So, someone got to the leader before Din could. That leaves the question… who?

A quick look around the area pointed out a trail of blood.

The Mandalorian followed this trail without any real reason behind it.

He found the remainder of the villagers at some point along the way. Sullen masses of faces mixed together, mourning the loss of their villages and lost ones but kept busy with treating the wounded. Women sat in huddles cooking with what food was salvaged and children sat quiet. One stood out apart from the rest in Din’s eyes, a large male leaning over a group of medics. Din recognized him as Cyrukee, the villager’s chief, who noticed the lone bounty hunter from the corner of his eye and stood up. In his arms was the most beautiful thing Din had seen all day, Grogu. The baby gurgled in joy as he walked up to the chief.

“There you are.” Din didn’t realize that he was holding his breath when he sighed in relief, taking Grogu into his arms.

“Sir.” Cryukee barely got a word out before Din turned to him.

“I’m looking for a youngling- my kid. Have you seen them?”

“Sir, please.”

“They’re this tall,” Din rears a hand near to your height, “they were with this little green baby. Your husband, he took them to the school. Where is he?” The Mandalorian made a full turn around to look for the red robed headman who was last responsible for your care. He reached for his comms and tried to reach you again. His voice rang back at him, and in a terrible moment of realization he realized that that was your comms.

“Where are they?”

“Sir, let me explain.” Cyrukee wore an exasperated expression and looked as though he was about to speak before one of the medics from the group he was with requested to speak with him. He spared a glance at Din as though he struggled whether or not to say something. And then, Din followed his arm towards the medics he was just with. Din didn’t know what to make of it, not able to recognize any of them. The Mandalorian took one last look at the chief, whose grave expression gave him reason to worry, and slowly walked towards the group of medics. He buzzed through the comms, trying to pinpoint your location. As he got closer he heard medics speak in soothing voices and their patient hyperventilating. Had it not been his own voice coming from the center of the personnel he would have moved on, instead he could not find the will to move. Grogu looked at him expectantly.

One medic in particular took notice of the beskar-armored man. He and some others quickly got up and pushed Din away before he could force his way through the medics to take a look at you.

“Hey, wait-wait-please.” Din grunted at the force and staggered several steps back. He took a moment to collect himself and Grogu sneezed in his arms. Dust must have gotten into his nose during the scuffle. “Please, my ward- my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Just a moment,” one of the bloodied nurses kept her hands on Din’s chestplate longer than he would have liked. He didn’t push her away though.

“I need to see my kid.” Din looked her in the eye, hoping that she could see his desperation through his helmet.

His kid. When Din looks back on this he would think about how he’s never referred to Y/N as his own before. He would have liked to think he said that so the nurses allowed him to pass easier. But deep down, he knew it was because of how much he cared for them.

“I understand but please let me explain. Sir, Sir!” Din retreated in defeat on his second attempt to get past her and the other nurses. She stared into his eyes and patted his shoulders, Din didn’t know whether she was trying to comfort him or control his movements. “They’re traumatized enough right now, and you moving around in that armor of yours will only make it worse.”

“What happened to them?”

“They had an encounter with Jetwal,” Din’s blood boiled at the recognition of the raider’s leader who’d died before him. “according to the children, your child was leading them to the outskirts when he found them. They killed him, he was threatening the children, and they shot him. Now, listen to me. They did get injured. Several blaster wounds to their limbs and upper torso- sir, listen please I cannot allow you to go to them just yet- they’re still panicking right now but I assure you their wounds are being treated right now. They’ll be fine, but disrupting our work will only inhibit us from treating them properly.”

She watched his gaze linger to the sound of your crying. “How much longer until I can see them?”

Din was not pleased to find that he was only allowed to see you when the nurse came for him herself. Reluctantly he walked a little farther away from the medics when asked to give them more space, and sat down with Grogu bouncing on his knee next to a young Twi’lek running their hands over their lekku to soothe themselves. Between glancing at the medics to keeping Grogu entertained, Din didn’t realize how much time had elapsed before noticing the nurse had come to his side to collect him.

She took a seat next to him. “They’re hurt very badly, but with time their injuries will heal. All they need to do is rest. You can see them now.”

Grogu giggled and played with the nurse’s finger that was threateningly wiggling on his little tummy. “Can you take him for a moment?”

Din stood up and gave Grogu a pat on his little head and rubbed his large ears out of habit. Something you used to do to calm the little green alien down after a terrible meltdown. Even under his helmet Din smiled at the alien before dredging towards you. You laid on a pile of fabrics that functioned as a makeshift cot, but you looked like you had a pile of fabrics on you with the amount of bandages that wrapped your body. You didn’t notice Din approaching you as you stared straight into the sky. Din wondered what you were thinking. What could you be thinking? From his knowledge, this was your first time dealing with major injuries from blasters. It must have made this whole ordeal so much more frightening to you.

Maybe Din was too light on his feet, recoiling instantly when you jolted at his touch and groaned in pain.

“It’s me, it’s me.” His voice was soothing, even more than normal which surprised him.

A sort of wheeze escaped your lips and you coughed. “Mando.”

“Hey kid.”

“I tried calling for you.” A gasp. “They jammed the frequencies.”

“Your message barely came through, kid. But it made us realize what was going on. We got here before more damage could be done because of you.”

Your form relaxed. “Good, good. Grogu?”

“With a nurse.” “The one with the sweet voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her voice-” A cough. “Sounds like my mom’s. She was nice. She helped calm me down.” At this point Din had stared at you long enough to realize how puffy your eyes were from crying. He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush your H/C hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m pretty fucked up, huh?”

Your eyes were already locked onto his when he met your gaze. A tick passed, and Din’s eyes fell to the wounds you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, kid. That’s not what you are.”

“Feels like it.” Din scowled at your words.

“There are too many fucked up people in the galaxy, kid. You´re not one of them.” You look at him with a raised brow. “Y/N, you barely have any combat experience yet you took on Jetwal? What were you thinking?”

And you said something that surprised him.

“I was thinking of you.”

And Din couldn’t find any words. He cleared his throat and you continued, “We were alone and I had no idea when you’d come, I was scared something had happened to you because I couldn’t get a hold of you through the comms and that guy was coming at us and-” You inhaled sharply, wincing at what Din assumed was a jab in one of your wounds but he didn’t know how to help. You calmed a moment later, closing your eyes and furling your brows together. “I thought about what you would have done if you were there. You always looked like you knew what to do.”

To say that Din was proud of you would have been an understatement, he was beaming wonders underneath his helmet but realized that you couldn’t see through the beskar.

“I thought I’d lost you both.” Din admitted. “But I’m very proud of you. You saved lives, Y/N. That’s no easy feat for someone of your age.”

You grinned at him and laughed. “Did you do something like this when you were my age?”

“Yes, but I didn’t end up as fucked up as you did.” “Hey!” Din laughed and raised his forearm to block your playful hits.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before you look at Din again. “Do you know how long we’ll be here for?”

“With your injuries, no clue. I’ll talk to the medics and Cyrukee to see what is to be done.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your fingers twitching involuntarily. Din’s hands find their way to your hair again. “Mando, I’m tired.”

“Rest. I’ll be here with you.” He watches you half-heartedly nod at his words and doze off in a matter of seconds. The injuries have taken a toll on your body, Din suspects, and he pulls a sheet over you. He sits with you, watching villagers talk amongst themselves, speaks with those who come by to thank him for his help, and accepts Grogu from the nurse when she comes over, thanking her for all she’d done for you. She told him that a thank you was not owed to her, and that if you were to need anything she was only a call away.

And when he was finally left alone, Mandalorian took one look to take account for his two foundlings. They slept soundly and with luck, heads full of dreams. Most importantly, they were safe in his care once again.

Din realized he’d been holding in a breath, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

.....

Taglist:

@kiara-is-gay @pcotato @sagedgeek

[thefuckinsandes]

Another Day

Pairing: Din Djarin x female implied reader Warnings: pure fluff Summary: Just another day in the Razor Crest with your two favorite people. Word Count: 1818 A/N: A friend on twitter inspired this fic when I was beginning to build the Lego Razor Crest set. She said and I quote, "imagine helping Din fix the Razor Crest" and this was born. I hope you enjoy this.

“Come on, you stupid thing!” You whispered in frustration as the Razor Crest decided to not listen to your touch of a button.

You knew your way around machinery, having to learn the trade thanks to being raised around various forms of ships and droids. Your father and mother taught you and your siblings everything, yet here you are struggling over a dumb button.

You didn’t want to bother Din to come assist you. He has been working so hard protecting and helping you care for Grogu, and making sure that you too were well cared for. You should be able to handle this on your own. At that moment it was just you in the cockpit of the ship. Din and Grogu were both sleeping, the latter only falling asleep if his quote on qoute father slept with him. So it was just you and your thoughts for the time being.

With a sigh of frustration, you went to collect your tools to see what needed to be fixed underneath all that metal. Going down the ladder, you quietly tiptoed to grab your things. You were about to pass Din’s quarters when it’s door swished open, making you stay still in hopes that you didn’t accidentally cause it to open. A soft coo is heard and the little being stares down at you from the hammock that Din made for him.

“Shhh,” You placed your finger over your lips in hopes that he understood what you meant. The Child replicates your actions, placing his hand in front of his face and trying to create the same sounds you did.

“Are you not sleepy anymore?”

You tiptoe towards his bunk, seeing Din’s armored chest rise and fall showing how deep in sleep he is. Good. He deserves a good night’s sleep. Grogu shakes his head, telling you that he is now wide awake. He lifts his arms up, asking to be picked up. Quietly lifting the Child from his hammock, you pull him towards your chest as you press a button, closing the door.

“Well, at least that button works,” You say as you look towards Grogu. He looks back at you and tilts his head to the side. “C’mon, let’s go get to work.”

Back in the cockpit, you unscrewed and pulled off the board that housed the button that was causing you such trouble. Grogu was sitting on the pilot’s chair, holding the tools that you knew you’d need.

“You’re gonna be my little helper, okay little one,” You pat his head as you take one of the tools he held. “You’re gonna learn some new tricks so we can avoid what happened last time when you let the blue and red wires touch. I still don’t know why Din didn’t wake me up to help with that.”

He coos as he listens to you. You took that as a sign that he indeed understood. After meeting Ashoka and learning more about the small being next to you, you felt more connected to him. Listening to her tell you and Din his thoughts and how he viewed the two of you, well, it made your heart flutter. As you focused back onto the wiring of the button, you showed Grogu what each wire did, the function of a specific part, and how to properly care for each item.

“Did you get any of that?” You kneeled in front of him.

“Patu!”

“What are you two doing?” Din’s modulated voice flowed through the room.

“We are having a learning session,” You smiled as you stood up and faced the Mandalorian. “After what happened last time, I thought I should teach him a thing or two. Have a good nap?”

“It’s not my fault that he couldn’t follow directions and yes, I did thanks.”

“Who was giving him the directions?”

Din laughed as he watched you return back to your work. He admired how you included the Child in all of the things you did around the Crest. Simple things from cooking meals, cleaning around the ship, and now how to fix small things. The kid may not understand a single thing you said to him as you showed him more wirings, but he loved the attention you are giving him.

“So what’s wrong this time?” Din leans against the chair that Grogu is sitting on.

You adjust the wires before you respond, “I was trying to get the thermoregulator to start, but it wasn’t responding. And it’s weird because I know Karga just had his best men fix the Crest, so you would think that it would function properly.”

“Maybe it’s just having a moment,” Din tells you before moving to stand next to you. “Like how you have your moments.”

“Which ones?”

“You know which ones.”

You can’t see his face, but you know by the sound of his voice as to what he was referring to. You knew he had a smug grin because you did as well, recalling some of your more intimate moments where he makes you go haywire.

“As much as I adore those moments, this is one that is just bothering me to the core. So if you don’t mind, I have work to do,” You tapped the tool in your hand against his beskar-cladded chest.

Din chuckles, “Alright, I’ll retreat. Want me to take the kid?”

You looked down to Grogu and watched him as his head continuously moved to look between the two of you. Maker, he’s too cute. “I don’t mind keeping him here with me. You go relax and clean up your armor or weapons. I got him.”

Din leans down and lightly presses his helmet against your forehead before turning and making his way back down to the hull of the ship. Your heart fluttered at the simple touch. With a sigh, you went back to work.

Grogu watched you as you explained everything you were doing. It was close to an hour later when you finally managed to get the thermoregulator to function correctly. With a grin, you placed the last screw back into place and stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“And that’s how it’s done. Now,” You turned to face the little one. “Are you ready to go downstairs and help your dad?”

A coo leaves his lips as he raises his arms once again, asking to be carried. Lifting the little one, you held him against your waist as you carefully climbed down the steps. The sounds of the Crest running was all that was heard as you reached the bottom. Din never made a sound while he focused on whatever task he had in hand. He was currently sitting on a crate, cleaning his pulse rifle.

“I fixed it,” You told him as you sat on the ground in front of him, placing the Child on your lap. “There were some wiring issues, but I managed to get it going.”

“Thank you, clever girl.”

His praises always made you blush. You began to stroke the Child’s ear, giving him your attention to avoid having the Mandalorian see your reaction. “How long until we reach Tython?”

“Two days, tops. We have time to plan accordingly and rest. Have you eaten, clever girl?”

You shook your head; you tended to forget to eat whenever you were working on a project. Din always made sure that you ate, reminding you to take a break since you always made sure that he too ate and rested.

“Stay here. I’ll get us all something to eat,” Din stood and placed the now cleaned rifle into the armory before making his way to grab something for you all.

“Your dad, he’s too good to us,” You whisper to Grogu as you watch him play with your fingers. “He always makes sure that we are taken care of. He protects us at all costs. He makes sure that we eat before he does and that we get plenty of rest. That’s why I love him.”

Your confession doesn’t go unheard. Grogu stops playing with your fingers and moves to place his hand over your heart. He understood what you said. Because that’s how he felt too. He loved his father. He loved his mother too.

A smile graced your lips as you placed two fingers over his little hand, “I love you too, little one.” You placed a soft kiss on his little head as Din returned to you both, bowls of broth in his hands for the two of you.

“You’re not gonna eat?”

“I am. I just need to make sure that we are on course. Eat. I’ll be right back,” Din hands you the bowls before turning away.

As you watched Din climb his way up to the cockpit, you placed the bowls on the ground. Maneuvering yourself, you leaned against the same crate that Din has sat on. Grogu moved away from your lap to sit beside you, ready to eat the meal that was given.

“Here you go. Be careful, it’s a little hot,” You place the bowl of broth in his small hands. The Child coos before lifting the bowl carefully to his lips. You smile before lifting your own bowl towards your lips, blowing on it softly before taking a sip. It was around your fourth sip when you heard Din climbing down the steps disappearing for another second and reappearing again. This time with his own bowl in hand.

“How are you both liking it?” Din asks as he sits against the crate behind you. A hiss is heard as you hear his helmet unlocking. The sounds of the beskar helmet is heard as it hits the ground. Then his velvety voice is heard next. “How much has he eaten?”

You peered over the bowl that Grogu placed on his lap, “He’s almost done. And it’s delicious. Thank you so much.”

“Welcome.”

The three of you sit in silence as you all finish your meal. You were the first to finish, followed immediately by Grogu. As Din continued his meal, you took upon the task to clean up after the kid. He sometimes made a mess due to him being so eager to eat.

“What were you and the kid talking about when I went to grab the food?”

You paused for a second before answering honestly, “You.”

“What about me?”

“About how much he loves you. And how I love you too.”

Din smiled as he placed the bowl on the ground beside him. His hand blindly reaches out for you, feeling the ground around him before he finally touches your own. His gloved fingers slip between yours and he holds them tight.

“I love you. You and the kid,” Din’s voice was warm and just beautiful as the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. “You know, I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You grip his fingers, “I do.”

_______

Tags: @evyiione

[mandospace]

Inside and Out (Din Djarin x Reader)

Request:  Hello!! I was wondering if I could request something? I was wondering if you could possibly do like a touch starved Din? I would so love it! Whenever you are able and inspired to write of course! ❤️ thank youuuu!

Requested By: @snow30285​

Word Count: 3,997

Warnings: Fluff!! Blood, mention of an injury, first-aid

A/N: I got a little carried away with this! I hope you all like it, and if you wanted to be added to a tag list just let me know. Also, my requests are open for Din Djarin and Boba Fett!

MASTERLIST

He caught himself staring at your form for the fourth time that day. Din quickly averted his eyes, cheeks flushing under his beskar helmet. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, thank the Maker, and continued on with your task. Grogu giggled at you hiding your face behind your hands, playing a game of peek-a-boo with you. 

“Where did mommy go?” You hid your smile behind your hands. Quickly dropping them from your face, you smiled at the small green child that erupted into a fit of giggles. “There she is!”

Din’s heart stuttered at the image of you playing with his child, Grogu waddling towards you before leaping into your lap. Grogu continued giggling, his tiny little hand reaching out to grab at yours. 

“AHHH, YOU GOT ME!” You dramatically cried out before falling to the ground, wrapping a secure arm around his body to ensure that he was safe. He carefully stood up on your belly, waddling his way to your face. His little hand rested on your cheek, and the soft smile you gave him made Din’s heart falter once more. You rested your larger hand on top of Grogu’s little one, holding it to your cheek. The tender moment shared between you and Din’s son was almost picturesque, it reminded him of the old oil paintings that displayed a mother and child in the palaces of the more richer planets Din visited. 

You turned your lips to place a small kiss on his little green hand. Din felt himself involuntarily reaching a hand out, wanting to join in on the tender moment between the two of you. Din imagined that he was the one cupping your cheek, his big hands instead of the small green ones of his son. He imagined how warm your cheek would be, how soft the fine peach fuzz of your cheek would feel against his palm. How your soft, pillowy lips would feel against his skin...

“Din?” Your voice is what pulled Din back to reality. You looked up at him with concern in your eyes, gaze flicking down to his still outstretched hand. “Are you okay?”

Din brought his hand back to his side, leather creaking as he closed his fist. “’M fine,” he mumbled, turning to head back to the cockpit. “It’s time to drop from hyperspace.”

Nodding your head at his retreating form, you looked back at the child that let out a small yawn. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you to bed.”

——

“I should only be gone for a few days, a week at most.” Din commented, grabbing various weapons from his armory. You stood off to the side, Grogu balanced on your hip while the two of you watched Din strap the pulse rifle to his back. You’ve watched Din prepare for a hunt what felt like hundreds of times, but it never got easier. The worry that laid deep in your chest never went away.

“Remember to close the ramp once I’m gone,” Din moved to the ramp, pressing a button on his vambrace to lower it. “And set up the safety perimeter. I recently just installed the new security system, so it should alert you to any nearby life forms. And-“

“And have a blaster nearby and communicuff on me at all times,” you interrupted his ramblings. He only talked this much when it had to do with either your or Grogu’s safety. “I know, Din.”

Din turned to you with a sigh, black visor meeting your gaze. He noticed that your bottom lip was already between your teeth, showing your worry. He wanted to reach out and glide his thumb over your lips, releasing your bottom one from your teeth. “I just want to make sure you are safe, Cyare.”

You smiled at his words, noting the strange nickname he gave you. He only ever used it when he was leaving. “I know, and we will be. Don’t worry about us, just focus on your hunt.”

Din felt himself reaching out to you, but he stopped his hand midway. “I always worry about you...” Din’s voice trailed off, and your heart thumped in your chest. “And Grogu,” he added, his face reddening under the beskar. Just talking to you made him flustered.

He turned back to the ramp and gazed out of its opening. He had tracked the bounty to some forested planet, you weren’t sure of its name. After you visited one forest planet, you’ve seen them all. You could see Din’s shoulders tighten under his beskar pauldrons, anxious and excited at the prospect of a new hunt. This was the part that you hated the most: him leaving you. Before he even took a step onto the ramp, your free hand was reaching out for him, gripping his arm around the elbow, one of the only places on his body free of beskar.

Din stopped in his tracks, and he felt like he was going to both pass out and have a heart attack at the same time. Your small hand couldn’t even reach around the thick muscles of his arm. Even though he was wearing thick layers, he could feel the warmth from your hand seeping through. His eyes dropped to your hand on him, and he couldn’t believe you were actually touching him. It wasn’t even skin-to-skin contact, but his heart was already in hyperdrive. This all happened in a single second, the span of a blink.

“Be safe.” Your voice was small, timid at this new interaction you were having with the Mandalorian. You had always thought him attractive, even though you had never seen an inch of his skin. You admired his strength and how great of a warrior he was. The silver beskar just proved how powerful he could be if he saw you as an enemy. What really attracted you to him wasn’t his strength or how great of a warrior he was, no, it was how soft and protective he was over Grogu. He always held him with great care, as if he would break with the tiniest movement. He spoke softly to the kid, afraid he would scare him with his louder voice. Watching him and his son interact is what really attracted you Din, like some primal instinct telling you to find the strongest and most caring partner you can. “Come back to me.”

“Always, Cyare.” Din’s heart fluttered at your soft spoken words. Before his heart could leap through his beskar-covered chest and into your arms, he turned away from you. Your hand slipped from its resting place on his arm and he immediately missed your touch and warmth. He could feel the longing he felt for you nestle its way in his chest, right near his heart. Before he could do or say anything stupid that would surely embarrass himself, he trudged down the ramp and began his hunt.

———

It had already been six days since Din had left for his hunt. Your mind kept drifting back to the feel of his hard muscles under your fingertips. How his voice was soft when he said the strange name of ‘Cyare,’ a name he only said when he left. You knew it was Mando’a, but no matter how many times you scanned the holo-pad’s built in dictionary, you couldn’t find a single word of the dying language. You resigned yourself to the fact that you may never know what he was calling you, unless you asked him. But that was never going to happen, your words always stumbled out of your mouth when you talked to him.

So you busied yourself around the Razor Crest whilst you waited for the return of your Mandalorian, trying to keep away the thoughts of how his hands would feel on your skin. You had cleaned nearly every surface in the old ship and even organized the wires under the dashboard. By the time you were done with your chores, the Crest was nearly spotless- there was always going to be that one stubborn blood stain near the carbonite chamber that you were never going to get out. Din had brought back a rather difficult quarry that day, and as soon as he started flinging crude insults at you, Din promptly reached for his viroblade. The cut he made was only superficial, you learned later, but the man still bled quite a bit before Din shoved him back into the chamber. You had immediately tried to clean up the pool of blood, but Din took the rag from your hand with a gentle “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”

Besides the one stain that refused to go away, the Crest was as good as new, or as new-looking that it was going to get. The rest of the day you spent playing with the kid, mind drifting back to thoughts of Din. You had just put Grogu down for a nap when the Crest’s new security system let out a loud beeping noise, alerting you that a life form was approaching the ship. Locking Grogu away in his pram-thankfully he was still asleep- you reached for the blaster that was resting atop the stack of crates. Running up to the cockpit, you noticed that a single dot was showing up on the ship’s new security system. You managed to stop the alarm from blaring before you made your way back to the hull. You were ready to protect yourself and Grogu from this intruder if necessary.

A loud banging noise sounded against the ship as the ramp started to descend. You gripped the blaster tight, switching the safety off. When you saw the silver glint of beskar, you sighed in relief, switching the safety back on before setting it off to the side. Din slowly made his way up the ramp, arm wrapped around his middle. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry, arms reaching out to Din once he was safely inside the hull.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching your arms out to catch Din when he stumbled. “Are you hurt?”

“Knife,” he grimaced as he lowered himself to the ground. His hand slowly fell away from his side, revealing his blood-soaked clothes. “Not deep.”

“Din!” You exclaimed in shock whilst dropping down to your knees. Your hands fluttered to his side, unsure of what to do. “I think you need to remove your beskar.”

“Do it,” he grunted, resting the helmet against the wall with a ‘ting.’ His hand moved to yours, dragging your hand to show you the release mechanism under his cuirass. Flicking the switch, the armor’s magnet released its hold on the beskar. Pushing it to the side, you grasped at the bottom of his tunic, trying to work the fabric up his torso so you could have access to the wound. You tried not to notice the small amount of dark hair leading down to his pants, or the beautiful color of his skin- a warm, sun-kissed tan. Your resolve failed when your eyes trailed over his abdomen, skin littered with scars over the lean muscle. Your fingertips lightly grazed his stomach and Din jerked back with a hiss.

“I’m sorry!” Your hands flew back from his stomach, afraid that you had hurt him in some way.

“No,” Din grunted while his head rolled to the side. “Didn’t hurt, it... felt good.”

You blinked at the Mandalorian currently bleeding all over your clean floors. Okay, he must be delusional. “Din, I don’t know if I’m the best person to do this. There has to be someone el-“

“No one else,” he mumbled, hand reaching for yours. “You can do it, Cyare.”

The familiar nickname is what grounded your rising panic. Making your way to the medicine cabinet, you grabbed the necessary kits and bacta so you could patch Din up. Kneeling at his side once again, you pulled back the remaining clothing to reveal the knife wound. He was right, it wasn’t that deep, but just like the quarry that Din had slashed at all those months ago, he bled quite a lot. You tried to remain as gentle as you could while you wiped a piece of cloth over the wound to soak up the blood. It took a few rags to thoroughly clean the wound, but you had finally gotten it to a manageable state.

“This might sting.” Grabbing the bottle of alcohol from your side, you tipped out the liquid onto a clean cloth. Your eyes flitted up to where his would be but was met with only the familiar visor. Din gave you a slow nod, telling you to ‘go ahead,’ and you placed the alcohol-soaked rag to his wound.

“Dank farrik!” Din yelped, jolting slightly upright in response to the stinging sensation that was radiating from his wound. You could just barely hear the grinding of his teeth from under his helmet, and you visually cringed at his pain.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized but continued to clean the wound. The knife must have been serrated because the wound was jagged. You laid your free hand on the expanse of his stomach, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin. Din hummed at the contact. Your soft fingers sent goosebumps racing over his flesh, thoroughly distracting him from the pain. He barely registered the soothing cool of bacta when you pressed it against his wound. Din was too distracted by your touch. It was the first time that he felt someone’s touch, skin-to-skin contact since he was a child, and he knew that he was already addicted. You were completely intoxicating and you didn’t even know.

“Done.” Pressing firmly against the newly applied bandage, you could feel Din’s eyes on yours.

“Don’t stop,” he couldn’t stop the words from slipping past his lips. You had pulled away your hands from his torso, and you quirked a brow up in response. “It-it feels g-good.”

“What, me torturing you with alcohol and bacta?” You joked and began to clean up the blood-soaked rags.Your right hand reached for the medpac that was laying next to Din but stopped when he grabbed your wrist. Din slowly pulled your hand to his stomach, resting your soft flesh over his scarred skin. He shivered at your touch and laid his hand over yours, keeping you there. His gloved thumb began to draw patterns on the back of your hand, sending a shiver of your own down your spine. “Din, what are you-”

“C-can I touch you, Cyare?” He interrupted with timid words. He was staring at your face, you could feel his gaze through the helmet. You sat there in shock, unable to comprehend that your hand was sprawled against his warm stomach and distracting you with the light graze of his thumb. “Please,” Din whispered when you didn’t respond to his earlier question. You felt yourself nodding your head in a dumb stupor, not believing that this was real and happening.

He picked his right hand up from yours that rested on his stomach, and moved to cup your face. Din stopped halfway between your bodies, hesitating for a moment, before bringing his other hand up to pull off his gloves. His right hand continued on its previous path, only stopping again when he was a centimeter away from your face. You could feel the tangible tension in the air, the nervousness shared by the both of you while you stared at one another. He just held his hand there for a moment, afraid to touch you and learn exactly how your cheek would feel against his skin. Bringing up your left hand, you placed it over his right one and pressed his palm to your cheek. His skin was rough from years of fighting, but incredibly warm and soothing. 

Din let out a shuddery breath when you took his hand and pressed it against your cheek. You were so soft, so warm against his palm. His thumb lightly brushed over your cheekbone out of curiosity. Eyelids fluttering shut at his touch, the pad of his thumb left sparks against your skin. Din’s heart nearly lept out of his chest when you turned your face into his palm, lips softly pressing into the meat of his hand. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him with such a soft look whilst you held his hand in yours, lips moving over his hand, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses. Right hand joining your left, you gently laid his hand in your lap, palm facing the ceiling. Your fingers traced over every vein in his hand, stopping at his wrist when you met his vambrace. Lifting his hand up to your lips, you placed a tender kiss to his pulse point. Your kisses left him breathless, every brush of your lips intoxicating.

As much as Din loved your soft touches, he wanted to caress you, feel your lips against his. He knew what he had to do in order to feel your lips against his, and the thought made him draw in a tight breath. “Cyare...” He tipped his head forward, leaning his forehead against yours. Your hands trailed to the nape of his neck, fingers worming their way under his thick cowl so that you could feel his hot skin. The beskar was cool against your forehead, a soothing sensation. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.” There wasn’t any hesitation in your voice. Being this close to Din was addicting. You wanted to feel more of his skin against yours, have his warmth envelop you.

“Close your eyes, Cyar’ika,” Din whispered. You followed his orders, shutting your eyes tight. He waited a few moments before you felt him lean back, cool beskar no longer present on your skin. You heard the locking mechanism of his helmet release with a hiss and the sound sent your heart racing. Was he taking his helmet off?

Din couldn’t breathe. He tried to pull the much needed oxygen into his lungs, but it was like his diaphragm wasn’t working anymore. Seeing you, truly seeing you without the many filters of the helmet had knocked the wind out of him. You were utterly breathtaking. Din sat there, trying to commit every feature of your face to his memory. You were even more beautiful than he thought was possible. The soft planes of your face made him want to reach out, touch you again. So he did. He was more sure this time, taking your face in both of his hands. You inhaled sharply when he first touched you, not expecting the touch, but you quickly relaxed at his touch that was becoming more familiar with each brush of skin. Both of his thumbs skimmed the planes of your cheekbones, felt the thickness of your lashes when he ghosted over your eyes. It was like he was a blind man trying to see with his hands, creating a mental image from his sense of touch. 

Din continued to map out your face, slowly trailing his thumbs over your skin. He saved your lips for last, wanting to savor them. His thumb brushed over them, and he inhaled sharply when he felt how soft they were. Din desperately wanted to mold his own to yours. “Ca-can,” he stumbled over his words, mesmerized by your beauty. He swallowed down the lump in his throat before he continued. “Can I kiss you, Cyare?”

“Yes.” You hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, and you were sure he could feel how your face heated up at his words. His slow touches were driving you insane, but not as insane as the knowledge that he was a mere six inches away from you, helmet off. It would be so easy to just open your eyes to see him. “Please.”

Hearing the wanting-tone of your voice that matched his ever-growing need for your touch, Din leaned in. His slightly-chapped lips timidly pressed against your soft ones, and you let out a sigh at the feeling. It felt like someone had poured molten lava over you that seeped into the very cracks of your foundation. Timid and shy at first, his kiss became more confident as he slotted his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the way that your hands reached up for his face to pull him closer to you. His kiss made you realize that you had been cold and alone your entire life, and that he was a blazing fire that would warm you to your core. 

Din softly gasped at your actions, and he decided that if he were to die right then and there that he would be completely fine since he was already in heaven with you. He felt the way that your fingers mapped his face like how he mapped yours. When you carded your fingers through his unruly locks, tugging him even closer, he hummed in contentment. Din’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you to his chest. Your legs draped on either side of his hips, kneeling in front of him. You tilted his head up to yours since you were slightly taller than him in this position, his arms squeezing you closer. Din slowly grazed his tongue over your bottom lip, and he moaned at the feeling of your tongue pressing against his. He explored your mouth, tongue tracing each tooth. Din saw stars behind his lids from kissing you. He had never kissed anyone before, but now he knew why others found it so intoxicating. The feel of your soft lips pressed against his was something he never wanted to forget. He burned this moment into his brain, desperately trying to remember the way your lips felt against his, the way your fingertips tangled in his hair, the warmth of your chest pressed against his.

When the need for air became too great, you both reluctantly pulled apart. You could already feel your lips starting to swell from the passionate kiss the two of you shared. Din’s lips never left your face, though, and he trailed kisses down your cheek and along your jaw. You couldn’t help how his name spilled from your lips when he kissed the juncture of your neck and jaw.

“You are so beautiful,” Din mumbled into your skin. Soft praises fell from his lips with each kiss against your skin. He loved the way you said his name, the way your grip on his hair tightened when he kissed your neck. His grip on you never lessened, hands bunching the material of your shirt in his hands. He never wanted this to end.

“You are too,” you sighed when his lips returned to yours. Din lightly shook his head in disagreement, making sure to not break the kiss. His self-deprecation made you pull yourself back. 

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

Leaning your forehead against his like before, you traced your fingers over his face. “I don’t need to.” You grazed your fingers over his eyelids, down his prominent nose, over his swollen lips. “I know you are beautiful both inside and out, Din Djarin.”

Din was thankful that your eyes were closed so that you couldn’t see the tears forming in his eyes. He placed a loving peck against your lips before he nuzzled his face in your neck. Din breathed in your scent, immediately finding that it both excited and calmed him down. His lips brushed over your jugular, placing a soft kiss there. “I never want to let you go, Cyar’ika.”

“Then don’t.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he placed another kiss on your neck.

“You know,” you started, fingers slowly working out the tangles in his hair. “I never know what you’re saying when you speak Mando’a.”

“You’ll learn, Cyar’ika,” Din closed his eyes, content at the feeling of you playing with his hair. “You’ll learn.”

_____

Mando’a translations:

Cyare = beloved/loved

Cyar’ika = darling/sweetheart

Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum = I love you

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

.

.

.

taglist: @honestly-shite

[burnwater13]

Mayfeld standing on the debris of an old Tie Fighter, on Karthom, as he fulfills his prison sentence for the New Republic. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 7, The Believer.

Grogu wasn’t there when his dad and Cara Dune, Fennec, and Daimyo Fett went from Nevarro to Karthon to Morag. He didn’t know what they were doing or why they were doing it, other than to find him. And, he didn’t know for along time that they went to Karthon to pick up Mayfeld. He wasn’t sure why his dad was being so tightlipped about it, until Fennec explained it. 

“Your dad had to show his face, so Mayfeld knows what he looks like. Like that’s some sort of honor.”

WHAT?!!!

Mayfeld knew what his dad looked like, but Grogu was the one who took the blame from the Armorer about his dad showing his face to him?!

“Listen kid, don’t get your first layer in a bunch. Your dad was the only one who had no problems with his chain code. He had to take the helmet off in order to save you.”

Grogu was somewhat mollified by that. After all, saving him from Moff Gideon was a pretty big deal. He must have just taken the helmet off for a split second so he could get what he needed and then…

“How else do you think he got that nickname of his? Can’t call him ‘Brown Eyes’ if we didn’t actually know the color of his eyes.”

Dank Farrik! Everyone saw his dad’s face before he did! That just wasn’t fair. And keeping that information from his was really mean. Grogu was about to stomp off when Fennec stepped in front of him.

“So you think your secrets are okay to keep but his isn’t? He called in every favor he had to rescue you, Kid. So you didn’t see his brown eyes until a little later than the rest of us. He did that all for you, knowing how much trouble he was going to be in with that Tribe he runs with.”

Grogu sighed. Fennec was right. He was being too harsh. His dad had saved him from Moff Gideon and he’d almost been badly hurt doing it. Grogu hated being responsible for that. And Din Djarin had only taken his helmet off again because Grogu had wanted to see his face and touch it. The Mandalorian was special and Grogu wanted him to realize that… What? Wait a second… did Fennec just say something about Grogu having secrets?

“That’s right, Kid. I know all about what you did on The Wheel. But your dad doesn’t, does he?”

Her tone was even, but Grogu understood that there was a subtle hint of threatening to turn that information over to his dad tingeing it. Uff! How did she even find out? He didn’t do that while he was with his dad. He’d gone to Luke’s Jedi Sleep Away Camp when all that went down. Hmmm. He wondered…

“That’s right Kid, your mentor doesn’t know about it either. Just you, me, and that droid who blabs. Consider yourself very fortunate. Now, I have no reason to tell your dad about your extracurricular activities. Right now, that is. But I suggest you reflect on why people keep secrets like that from one another.”

Grogu nodded his head at Fennec and then walked slowly away from the know it all administrator. He didn’t think that R2 had told her anything, so how did she find out? Some time had passed since he’d last seen her and the Daimyo. That had obviously given her plenty of time to collect information. Had she actually gone to The Wheel and collected that information first hand? Or had one of her numerous informants blabbed to her because they had been on The Wheel?

He couldn’t imagine that anyone he’d met there blabbing. He didn’t speak to anyone at all… except Roger. Womp Rats! That droid was as chatty at Mayfeld. It never shut up. Even when it was trying to be quiet it had to talk to someone. If Fennec went to The Wheel she sure as heck would have heard from that darn battle droid. Uff.

So why was she keeping his secret? It had been a long time since he had done that snack run. He hadn’t thought about since he went back to Tatooine. There were so many other things to think about and do. Grogu sighed again.

It had been a pretty good adventure. He and R2 had gone to The Wheel so Grogu could obtain some food that was worth eating. It had turned out that Luke was just as obsessed with ration packs and veggies as his dad was. That was about the only thing the two humans had in common. 

Then Grogu began to consider the differences between the two men and there were plenty of them. Grogu couldn’t snuggle up with the Jedi when he was tired. Someone was a restless sleeper and that wasn’t Grogu. He also couldn’t expect Luke to surprise him with things like a beskar shirt or impromptu lessons on astro-navigation. Luke was far more philosophical and, honestly, Grogu had found that really boring. It reminded him too much of Mayfeld. 

Was this what Fennec had really wanted him to do? His dad was a good person. He was a fun person, in his own way. And he let Grogu have fun too. So, if Grogu wanted Din Djarin to tell him the unflinching truth, Grogu would have to learn to do that too. Tomorrow. 

His dad was off helping the Daimyo with a problem. Grogu had no idea what that problem was and now he knew he didn’t actually need to know. Especially not if he was going to convince Fennec to take him to The Wheel. He really wanted some chicken  snacks and you just couldn’t find anything that good on Tatooine. At least he knew she wasn’t going to talk his ears off. 

[fandom-blackhole]

*claps happily* Could I please get a 50 & a 81 with Din? Oh this is so fuuunnn~ Thank you so much!

Ngl anon I had to play with this mash-up for a bit, but I think I have a winner 😉

Sorry it took so long, but I wrote some of this on my way home from uni for the weekend and finished it today. I hope you like it!

Words: ?? (I'll check later if I remember)

Pairing: Manda'lor!Din Djarin x F!Reader

50. Arranged Marriage  

81. The Missus and the Ex 

Send me Aus/Tropes??

Din had given up on marriage a long time ago. It was a dream of his youth, one he'd envisioned over and over to the point he could almost see the faces of his children running around in his dreams. But with age and as life went on that wish faded and with every new situation he just, well gave up that dream.

Then Grogu happened, and he may not have had a partner but he had his kid and he loved him. His life had felt like it had been dragging, nothing really new, just getting bounty after bounty and taking the money back to the tribe, but Grogu changed that. Suddenly he had a purpose, to protect the small child in his care, and he did with everything he had in him. He fought tooth and nail to keep the kid away from the stormtroopers, away from Gideon and had succeeded until he hadn't, but he didn't give up. He did more, gathered his resources and fought everything and everyone in his way to get Grogu, to get his son back, and then he had him again. But he also had the darksaber and the events following all bit blurred together. Before he knew it he his son had been taken by the jedi to train him, he'd broken his creed only to be crowned manda'lor of his people, and swept away to Mandalore with a fuming Bo Katan.

Months later he still hadn't wrapped his head around his new life nor the responsibilities he now held, but he did what he could and he did what he knew to be right. He ruled fairly and for the people, making decisions that he knew his advisors may not like but he knew would benefit his people.

Then his advisors were blindsided him with the news that a marriage had been arranged for him and the daughter of an influential mandalorian tribe who was well liked by the general public and had neutral if not slightly positive opinion of the new republic. Din was floored. An arranged marriage? He didn't really know how to react, but it made sense, marrying this woman would gain some of the favor of the higher more influential clans and tribes that had yet to sway in his favor. At the same time his heart twinged and mourned the marriage and family had dreamed and wished for so long ago, now fading to never be as he solemnly agreed to the marriage.

The marriage was a very public affair, much to Din's chagrin. But he was also relieved when he learned that he would have the week leading up to the wedding to get to know his soon to be wife. The wedding had been taken over by his advisors at this point after they soon realized Din could care less about flower arrangements and what specifically color of red or black he would be wearing, so that meant he could take his time and really get a feel for how he felt about the woman he was marrying. And he had to say, he did like you. You were smart, sharp witted and pleasant to be around. You had no qualms with your beliefs, and even what the two of you disagreed on you both stayed cordial and just agreeded to disagree. You were kind, and cared for the mandalorian people and rebuilding Mandalore much the same way Din did,, and had even given him praise on some of his accomplishments and things he had implemented to help the people. So when the week was over, and as Din laid in bed the night before the wedding, Din could tell, that he liked you, and given time, he maybe able to even love you.

Much like he had assumed, the day of the wedding was all but chaos. He was woken up at an ungodly hour to start getting ready, and make a few last minute decisions on things he really did not care about, and the entire time, all he could think was that he hoped your morning was much more calm and less hectic than his own. The wedding itself passed quickly it seemed. Din was escorted onto a balcony first, his armor freshly shined, his beskar spear in one hand and the darksaber hanging on his belt, and his newly made red cape sat neatly on his shoulders. His people cheered and waved when they saw him, and cheered louder when he felt someone come to stand beside him. When he looked over, his breath was taken from him when he saw just how beautiful you looked. You looked every part the queen you were about to be, regal and powerful in your golden armor that was distinctly opposite of his own, but paired together your armors felt like they matched like two sides of the same coin. Even your cape was opposite his own, a striking green color that he felt was perfect for you.

You both swapped the mandalorian marriage vows, and Din's head advisor stepped forward declaring you to be the new queen, and as the crowd cheered, both you and him were ushered away back into the walls of the palace. Din didn't even get to say a word to you, before once again he was pulled away and you were escorted back to your rooms, now that the marriage was finalized, the ball was to start and Din once more was taken to "change", even though it was more of just switching to a more intricately embroidered cape with furs lining the inside. Then he was taken to the thrown room where he got the pleasure to sit and and listen to people talk to him all the while he waited....and waited....and waited... and...why were you still not here? It had been over two hours, the lunch was supposed to begin soon and yet he still had not seen you. Something panged in his chest, worry that something was wrong and his gut telling him he needed to check on you.

So, without even waiting or caring about what the person talking to him was saying, he stood and marched from the throne room, immediately heading to where he knew your room was situated. The closer he got, the more his stomach churned, screaming at him that something was wrong, something wasn't right, and when he found your hall and a dead guard with a single throwing knife in his throat, his heart stopped and he starting running. When he got to your door, he heard muffled talking, and he wasted no time bursting in and pointing his spear. What he found had his heart dropping, there you were hair not fully finished being done, but dressed in a beautiful gown that made you look like a goddess sent by the maker himself, but you were being held with a knife to your throat even as you fought and scowled, though relief flashed through your eyes when Din made eye contact with you. You're assailant though, only laughed an all to familiar high pitched cackle that had Din's face warping in disgust.

"Oh look pet, big ole Mandalore is coming to save his bride. You know, he's not all that scary, we used to work together you know, back when he was still just Mando."

Clenching his teeth, Din took a step forward, lowly growling out, "Let her go, Xi'an. Why are you here?"

"Why, how could I miss your wedding?! You know hun, Mando and I used to have a thing, and let me tell you he is great in b-"

"Enough! Why. Are. You. Here," Din interrupted as he stepped forward again, only to have Xi'an step back dragging you with her and digging her knife into your neck causing a drip of blood to fall painting your neck.

"Well, if you must know. You, my dear Mando, have had a hit place on your head, and I thought I'd try and cash in and see you again," she giggled out. Something in Din snapped, and before he knew what he was doing he charged Xi'an managing to surprise her enough to knock her hand away and pull you behind him, before headbutting Xi'an right as she was coming out of her shock, disorienting her enough for Din to slip behind her and lock the handle of his spear along her neck. After he had her pinned, Din's guards came in not long after and arrested her dragging her away as Xi'an threw a fit.

As soon as the two of you were alone, Din approached you and cupped your face, with his hand, his voice low and he asked, "Are you okay, mesh'la?"

You just nodded, so slowly Din reached up and took off his helmet, looking you in the eyes he softly he gently ran hi thumb over the spot on your throat where Xi'an had nicked you, "Are you sure?"

Again you nodded, bumping your forehead to his before grinning widely and looking him in the eyes. "So you think I'm beautiful?"

Everything Tags: @mysticalgalaxysalad @phoenixhalliwell @moodsare @perpetual-fangirl900 @night-snows00 @dumbass-simp-for-fredweasley @stargazingthenightaway @meabravo @just-here-for-the-moment @masteracewindu @litakino

Din Tags: @elinedjarin @shellyc9 @spideysimpossiblegirl @sydthekid1518 @phrog-seeds @pintsizemama @blackmarketmummy @badbatch-simp24 @startrekkingaroundasgard @djarin-junk @mindidjarin @hmarsattacks @littlemisspascal @pixierox101 @moodsare

Pedro Boys: @blackmarketmummy @djarin-junk @littlemisspascal

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[azertyrobaz]

Comfortember: Day#28 - Laughing (alt. prompt)

It was the first time Grogu was seeing the inside of his new ship, and Din could tell he was a little lost. He’d tried explaining to him that the Razor Crest was just getting too old and he’d had to replace it – somehow, he didn’t think the little boy needed to know exactly what had happened to their old home – and that this new one was bigger and better in every way. Grogu was unconvinced, big surprise, but handing him the round gear knob he had kept for him all this time helped tremendously. The beaming smile he gave him when he took the small ball in his hands was worth all the moments of despair he had suffered through in his absence, staring at that very same object and wondering if he’d made the right choice.

Almost.

Din still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact that the child was now back with him for good, and he’d given him plenty of time to get used to the idea, telling him they could stay on Yavin 4 for as long as he wanted. But the boy clearly had no such misgivings: once he’d toddled around the Kom’rk and agreed that okay, maybe the padding on the seats was a tiny bit more comfortable than on the Crest, he plonked himself on the console – the much bigger, brighter console – and looked up at Din expectantly: where were they going?

So they said goodbye to Skywalker, who had yet to find a solution for the kid’s training but would be in touch, and off they went.

“We can go wherever you want,” he told Grogu. “I promised you a trip to Sorgan, but there are many places we can visit first, and many people who would love to see you.”

“Ah!” agreed the boy happily, admiring the stars rushing past outside – it pleased Din to no end to see that the child loved travelling just as much as him and had clearly missed it.

“We should probably go see Bo-Katan first, she must be wondering where I am. And then I have to properly introduce you to my covert. But maybe we can stop on Tatooine first and go say hi to Peli since we’re close, what do you think? Maybe even Trask and see the kind Frog Lady? Cara and Greef in Nevarro?” he listed.

They decided to visit everyone – well, Din decided, but the little one never complained. He was so proud to have the child back and be his official guardian now, his father, that he wanted to share that feeling around.

“I don’t think I’d ever heard you laugh before,” commented Peli on their first stop. “It suits you, you should do it more.”

[vagrantblvrd]

Also.

Din going back to Tatooine after the season two finale because he’s heard about Boba and Fennec offing Bib Fortuna and taking over, right?

Boba looks at Din who’s all :(((((((((((((((( because the Jedi took his kid.

It’s for the best, really. Grogu’s with his kind now, and Din saw what the Jedi is capable of, knows Grogu’s in good hands.

Din’s great, it’s just like.

Raining.

Inside his helmet.

Boba sighs and Fennec rolls her eyes as she grabs booze because it’s going to be that kind of day, isn’t it?

Boba asks Din who the Jedi is.

“...Cara said his name was Skywalker?”

Boba is like what.

And then brief rundown of That Time Some Assholes Booted Boba Fett Into a Sarlacc Pit, but also.

“Don’t blame them for it,” because Boba did his best to kill them first, they were just better at it in the end, and anyway, it was a job, you know? Nothing personal. And then, “Skywalker, though, huh?”

An Din is like “...yes?”

Boba sighs, because he’s known two of the bastards in his time, you know?

One of them went bad, the other has bad taste in friends.

(Like, hey, no real hard feelings about Luke, but Han? Complete bastard, and no, Boba’s not being irrational.)

Din maybe sticks around for a while because nowhere else to go and such.

Boba looks at the Darksaber clipped to Din’s belt like he hears the lie, but no skin off his nose what Din does, and anyway, just having Din around is enough to have people thinking twice about trying to start anything with Boba.

One Mandalorian bounty hunter is bad enough, but two of them? Might as well dig your own grave.

Din is like, really? But Boba doesn’t seem to mind him being around and doesn’t ask questions as to why he’s there.

Fennec mostly leaves him be, but after a week or so she drags him off into the middle of nowhere and they spend a day sniping womp rats and other assorted pests.

They trade pointers, tips about the things they do best and how to counter them.

It could be a mistake because they tell each other kind of things that can be used against them, get them killed, but it’s like. They’re not enemies anymore, if they ever were that - never personal, just a job, survival. Not...quite friends really, but there’s an understanding there like there is between Din and Boba, and Boba and Fennec, and it’s just.

Yes.

AND THEN.

Some asshole in a hooded cloak shows up almost exactly like he did all those years ago when Jabba was running the place and Boba is just.

Tired.

So tired.

Yells at Din that his young man is here to see him and he and Fennec go off and idk, plot world domination or something elsewhere, who can say.

Meanwhile Luke looks at Din all, “So, uh. I’m here to rescue you?”

Din is ??? because what does that mean??? And also, “Boba’s not my enemy.”

Hell if he knows what Boba is, or Fennec, come to think of it, but it works for them.

“Huh, well that changes things,” Luke tells him, and takes a seat next to Din. Snags the glass of whatever hellbrew he’s been nursing because it’s foul, and also alcohol content to kill a man and such. “Also, that’s disgusting.”

Din is like well, yeah, but they’re on Tatooine and this isn’t a high-class joint, and he’s pretty sure no one bothered cleaning out the bones from the rancor pit after some dick came in and killed poor thing years ago.

(Boba’s told him stories, but Din maybe doesn’t realize that Luke was the dick who killed the rancor and broke its handler’s heart like a bastard.)

Luke is suspiciously quiet after that, because look, okay, look. Extenuating circumstances and whatnot, and anyway.

“Grogu set my school on fire.”

Because he misses his dad and Luke had other things on his mind and forgot to give Din his number - to contact Grogu! Not for other reasons having to do Din’s face and the fact it’s a very nice one!

Wait.

That came out wrong, but yeah, Din’s kid’ is a little terror and Luke doesn’t know what else he was expecting because he knew Yoda, and anyway.

Luke Skwalker walks into a shady as hell place on Tatooine and gives a tall, dark, mysterious stranger he’s known for all of ten minutes his number, because of course he does.

This is the story Din tells Leia and Han and the others when Luke takes him to meet the family and they ask him he and Luke met.

Luke never hears the end of it even after he tells them, wait, no, no that is not how they met at all, Din. >:(

But it’s too late to do anything about it now and Luke never hears the end of it.

NEVER.