#sw:tm

[dinmadness]

He means more to me than you will ever know…

The Mandalorian: Chapter 24

[suggesting-themes]

BABY YODA IN A BAG!

[lithiumseven]

Baby Yoda is older than Mando

[dinmadness]

Helmet Hair | appreciation post

[dinmadness]

He said 🏃‍♂️💨

[dinmadness]

Din “Cashin’ Checks and Breakin’ Necks” Djarin.

The Mandalorian | The Rescue

[dinmadness]

Din to anyone: They have the child, I need your help.

Anyone and everyone who hears:

[dinmadness]

Mando fic request/prompt

Din has to break it too Mayfeld that they are married now. Because Mayfeld saw his face and is still alive, so by creed they are married.

This goes significantly better then you would expect because Migs went from massively impressed and turned on with Mando’s skill while he was in prison to being in love when he saw how far he would go for his son, and those scared brown eyes.

So they go to save their little green son together.

Okay I’m super nervous about this one. I’ve wanted to write about these two since the episode aired and you blessed me with a gift. I hope I’ve done them justice!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Migs Mayfeld

Tags: lots of cursing, kissing, Mayfeld is in love.

I hope you enjoy this, it was so fun to write!

Fic under the cut!

Mayfeld scans the entrance to the mess hall, casually standing guard as to not raise any alarm. He can hear the machine Mando is standing at counting down, 10 9 8 7.... Panic creeps up his esophagus, threatening his airways, claws digging in.

6 5 4...

Silence.

Mayfeld turns to look at Mando and he feels the passage finally close when he sees tousled brown curls. He has to look away, shaking his head gently. Fuck, why’s it s’hot in here? Shifting to lessen his unease, Mayfeld looks back at Mando. It’s like he can’t resist. From the corner of his eye he catches Valin Hess stand and address Mando.

Fuck, fuck!

Panic is replaced with heavy dread in his stomach as Mayfeld watches the Mandalorian turn to Hess. Even from his place at the door he can see the fear Mando is struggling to contain. It’s a stark difference between the Mando back on the prison ship and now.

This man, who has never shown his face to anyone since he swore the Creed, is now standing bare faced in the presence of Imperial scum, all the while Mayfeld cowers in fear of being recognized. He has to do something. If Mando can sacrifice everything to save his child, Mayfeld can stand up to this fucking Imp jerk.

Quickly and smoothly as he can, Mayfeld shimmies up and inserts himself into the conversation, easing the attention off the Mandalorian. One look from the mans surprised face and Mayfeld is hooked. He gets swallowed instantly in the deep abyss of Mandos eyes, dark and warm like storm clouds rolling in on a summer evening.

In that moment, Mayfeld was prepared to do anything to help this man get his son back.

The pair (read: Mayfeld) was able to schmooze their way through the conversation. Unfortunately, it took a dark turn when Mayfeld brought up Burning Kann, despite Mando quietly urging him away from the subject. All his past anger began festering and festering the longer Hess spoke. How could Mayfeld be so stupid, how could he think this man would recognize him when all he and all the other stormtroopers were just numbers. He let Mando reveal his face because Mayfeld was a coward. Tears began stinging his eyes. Not anymore he isn’t.

Fucking scum.

Mayfeld shoots Hess. Then shoots every bastard in the room.

Slowing his breathing he looks at Mando and hands his helmet back. He did what he had to and if it helped the Mandalorian get the little green guy back, so be it. Mayfeld can play it off and forget what he saw.

Never mind the jaw he wants to cut himself on or the stubble he wants to feel scrape his thig...

Mayfeld is jerked from his inner yearning by blaster fire ringing in his ears. Working together, the pair escaped and boarded Fetts ship. The older Mandalorian landed the vessel and left the two alone to get out of those hideous clothes, promising to monitor the perimeter.

The duo changed with their backs to each other in silence. Tension thick in the air.

Unbearably quiet, if Mayfeld was honest. He had to say something.

He stops removing the flight suit, stinky as it may be and spins on his heels. The words die in his throat when he finds Mando is already staring at him, most of his beskar back where it should be. Brown eyes burrowing into his own blue.

Quick to look away, Mayfeld drops his eyes to the metal floor. “Hey man, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to touch and feel and see everything that is this Mandalorian.

“There are rules.”

Mayfeld flinches. The Mandalorians voice is level and so soft. “You’ve seen my face.”

Mayfeld brings up his arms, a little worried. “I ain’t never seen your face, Mando. I swear it.”

“Din.” Is all he says in return.

Mayfeld looks up a little further in question, now looking at the others chest plate. The armor shining in the light coming through the large panes of glass. From this distance Mayfeld can see his warped reflection. If he wasn’t so uncomfortable he’d crack a wise-ass joke. But nows not the time.

“My name is Din, Din Djarin. Look at me.” He demands.

Fuck, Mayfeld is weak. Doing as he is told he raises his head up meeting Dins eyes. Warm, warm, warm.

Din steps closer. “By seeing my face you are bound to me by Mandalorian law.”

Mayfeld quirks a brow, hackles raising, his pale cheeks flush with embarrassment. “What, like a fucking servant?”

Mando shakes his head, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “More like a riduur.” Mayfeld is silent, Din takes it as a hint the other doesn’t understand. “Partner, cyar'ika, beloved.”

A lightbulb clicks on above Mayfelds head. His face burns now, as red as his beard.

Oh.

Mayfeld lowers the walls he was quickly building. The fear that was starting to claw again gets swept away in the relief that washes over him.

“Well damn, Mando, I thought you’d never say.” Mayfeld closes the gap between them and drags Din down by his curls into a hot, slow kiss. Quiet moans swirl around them in the silence of the ship, just Mayfeld and Din.

Finally pulling back for air, Mayfeld smiles at the other before he leans over to grab the silver helmet to place back on, stopping just above his nose to steal one more gentle kiss.

“Now, let’s go get your kid back, shall we?”

[dinmadness]

Omg ok if ur still doing the fic prompt thing ... anything migs / din but maybe something from mandos POV yearning for migs and dealing with the whole Being Seen By Someone thing

I’m sorry for the delay in this! I hope you will forgive me and I hope you enjoy it! I love yearning fics and I this is something you were looking for.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Migs Mayfeld

Tags: yearning, Himbo Din Djarin, cursing, Soft Din

I hope you like it! This fic plays on the idea that Migs goes with them to get Grogu.

Fic under the cut!

It starts like a dull ache. A need that churns in his belly so low that if he were to search for it, he wouldn’t be able to find it. Despite that, it’s consuming. So consuming, every time Din is in the proximity of Mayfeld he feels the gravity pulling and tugging at him, pulling Din into his orbit.

But now, after everything, it’s no longer a dull thud in his chest. It’s almost overwhelming. An itch that Din can’t satisfy, can’t reach far enough. So it just burns, embers under his bleeding heart.

Migs, for all it’s worth, tries not to act different after what happened. Din doesn’t blame him but it doesn’t make the brush-off hurt any less. He understands what Mayfeld is feeling, fear and vulnerability and guilt...because Din is feeling it too. There isn’t anything in this galaxy that he wouldn’t do for that innocent child and taking his helmet off is no different. But that should be his burden to bear, not Mayfelds.

Still, there is a shift in the atmosphere around them that the others can’t pick up on it is so subtle. Mayfeld will look the other way if Din addresses him, eyes scanning other things as he answers. If they come to stand next to each other Mayfeld will shift to his other foot, leaning the opposite way. Every single time, one of the smoldering embers goes out.

Din wants to confront him and tell him it’s fine but he can’t. A deep gnawing of rejection keeps his mouth shut. Don’t be so selfish, his mind will scold.

No, he bites back. No.

——

The third sun is setting on the planet they are currently stationed on. The trip to Moffs cruiser is taking longer than Din had hoped but this is the final stretch and they need to rest. Din is finishing up laying out his blanket for sleep when he hears Mayfeld step out of Fetts ship. His arms towering above his head as he stretches his muscles, a sliver of pale skin glows in the light from his shirt riding up. Din abandons his task and walks over to the other man.

“We need to talk.” He says pointedly, leaving no room for refusal. He turns and heads to the front of the Slave 1 to be out of earshot of the others. Once they are both at the front, Migs stops short a few feet away from Din.

“What’s up, Mando?” He asks into the quiet, crossing his arms, putting a wall between them. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Din doesn’t say anything at first. His throat suddenly very dry. Finally swallowing hard, he’s able to speak. “I understand you are angry over what happened in that Imperial Base but I am sorry, I had to do it. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with seeing my face.”

He drops his head slightly to gaze at the ground, unable to look at Migs. His nerves are on fire and the brush of his clothing against his skin is unbearable under the scrutiny.

“I’m confused?” Din looks up into Mayfelds blue eyes. “Mando, you think I’m mad at you?”

When he doesn’t answer, Mayfeld runs a hand down his own face. “God I’m such an asshole. I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

Embarrassment burns on Dins cheeks. “You have been brushing me off and acting different. What did you expect me to think?”

Mayfeld stares at him for a moment. His previously pinched face is softer now, wrinkles in his brow smooth. “You really are an idiot. I’m only doing that because I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

That catches Din off guard. Mayfelds face flushes pink.

“I can’t stop thinking about your face and how much I want to see it again but I’m not a selfish bastard, Mando. I would never ask you to do it again.” Mayfelds voice cracks, he screws his eye shut. “So I figured if I did my best to stay away these feelings would disappear but I’m reminded of them every fucking time I see you.”

Din can’t form words and it’s frustrating. The only thing he can physically do is close the gap between them and wrap the taller man into an embrace. Mayfeld leans his head down and pushes it into Dins neck, fisting the fabric of his cape. Little by little, the embers start to burn again, brighter and brighter.

[dinmadness]

Me every Friday at work: *useful*

Me an hour later after watching the Mandalorian on the clock: *useless*

[dinmadness]

k so idk if this is helpful in terms of drabble prompts but consider the following: Din teaching himself to sew cuz Grogu got a hole in his favourite onesie

I literally dropped everything I was doing to write this. I’m sorry to the other prompts I stopped I will get to them ASAP. Thank you for requesting this!

Pairing: Din Djarin & Grogu

Tags: cuteness, Good Dad Djarin

I hope you enjoy this! ❤️😍

Fic under the cut!

Din hears struggled cries come from the sleeping pod from his seat in the pilots chair. He stands abruptly and grips the rails of the ladder and slides down quickly opening the pod door. Inside, in his hammock, the child is wiggling frustratedly. The Mandalorian grips him under his arms to assess the situation and notices one of his little green feet sticking out of the side of his soft burlap onesie. He tucks the child into the crook of his elbow and carefully pushes the foot back through. The child relaxes once his leg is free. Babbling happily to his father.

“Well, now what?” He asks the child, not really expecting an answer. Poking his gloved finger into the tear he feels the soft belly of the child, this elicits bubbly laughter from the child, Din laughs right along with him. Setting the child down in the bunk he removes the onesie from him, careful not to harm his large ears. The child fought him a little but otherwise both came out of it unscathed. Grabbing a thin blanket, he wraps it around the childs small body and tucks it around him, sure to keep him warm while Din works. Fabric in hand, he scans the ship for anything he can use, he knows he needs something sharp but thin. Humming to himself, he thinks of the perfect thing. He grabs a old wooden staff that an unfortunate bounty was trying to fight Din with.

Grabbing both ends, the Mandalorian brings the staff down hard on his thigh plate, splintering it in half. He picks a decent piece and breaks it off and gets to work widdling down the sliver to something sharp. He grabs his cape and pulls a fray and gets a piece of string. Threading it thought a slit in the wood Din gets ready. He holds up the fabric and pauses. How was this supposed to work?

He looks up at the child who is drifting in and out of sleep sitting up. A small smile ghosts over his lips. Looks like he’s on his own...not that the child would be much help.

Din lays the fabric out over his thigh and try’s to stitch it back together. Once he is finished he hold it up and a deep frown forms. The stitch is barely holding together and Din can see straight through the gaps.

“Dank farrik,” Din scoffs. He pulls the thread from the onesie and starts again. Taking notes of how the other side is, he pinches the fabric and begins weaving the splinter in and out of the material, taking his time this round. After stabbing his fingers a few times he finally gets the seam closed again. Holding the fabric up, he admires his handy work. The two edges closed, no light peaking through any gaps.

With a satisfied nod he stands and walks over to the child. He strokes the rim of his ear until he stirs awake.

“Fixed it.” He says pointedly. He child coos up at Din, raising his little arms out of the blanket, ready to be redressed.

Feeding his head through the top, ears popping out comically when it fit a down where it should be.

The child inspects the stitching and giggles, murmuring incoherent words. “Yeah, good as new.” Din agrees.

[dinmadness]

Some Din!whump, maybe din gets hurt protecting Grogu, and Cara has to take care of him? Platonic of course because they're best bros!

Yes I love their friendship so much it’s so wholesome!

Pairing: Din Djarin & Cara Dune

Tags: Blood, violence, soft Din (I’m a sucker), brief mention of Caras guns arms.

I hope you like it!! ❤️

Fic under the cut!

Din felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness. On his waking moments he hears the child crying and a familiar voice. On his sleeping moments, solemn quiet.

He remembers glimpses of what happened when his mind isn’t trying to sleep.

One minute he and Cara are fighting off a herd of troopers, the next Grogu is being ripped from his grip. He reaches for him as the child shrieks. Din’s blind rage seeps through the cracks of his composure and he begins lashing out. No longer relying on his blaster, he picked up a crowbar and swings as hard as he can. Bits of trooper armor shatter to the cosmos until he is able to free the child from the one that stole him.

Of course, not before the stormtrooper stabs a large rusted piece of metal into the softness under Din’s chest plate, scraping again the bone.

The audacity, he thinks bitterly as he watches the stormtrooper die. Din feels the slosh of blood run warm down his stomach and over his thigh. Suddenly, Din falls to his knees, the edges of his vision darkening.

Finally, his mind stops fighting and lets him rest.

-

Shrill cries sound garbled. His brain unable to register the noise. An instinct inside him gnaws at him to wake up. Grogu.

Grogu!

He jerks awake and shoots straight up, head spinning. He takes in his surroundings, thick trees and undergrowth on all sides. He feels the warmth of the fire next to him before he sees it.

The crying he was hearing is coming from a few feet away. The child is cradled in Caras solid and strong arms, squirming, cheeks red with tears.

Upon seeing Din awake, Cara rushes over to kneel beside him, setting the child down on the ground next to Din.

Knowing Grogu is safe, Din lays back down, wincing at the sting of his wound. He feels slightly better when he feels the child curl into a ball around his neck, rutting his face up under Dins helmet.

“Easy now, little guy. Y’gonna knock it off.” Cara laughs as the child relaxes and just curls up.

“He’s used to sleeping like this on the Crest.” Din mentions, counting in his head how many times he’s woke up to Grogu creeping out of his hammock to snuggle up under his chin.

Cara smiles at them fondly. “How are you feeling?”

Din moves around slightly, “Sore.” He carefully looks down at his chest, free of his beskar. A hole in his flight suit has been cut free and white bandages fill the void.

Cara changes the way she is sitting and gets comfortable. “You should be almost healed.” She carefully presses the edges of the wrapping that are trying to ear. “Your kid tried to heal you a couple times but he has been so frantic it just wore him out. You’ve been asleep for 2 days so I can’t blame him”

Din reaches up and places a gloved hand on Caras knee. “Thank you.”

It’s all he said and for Cara, it’s more than enough. She would go through hell or high water for these two, to the ends of the galaxy.

Cara takes his hand with both of hers for a moment before she stands. “Get some more rest, I’ll keep you both safe.”

Din watches as she picks up her rifle and head towards the edge of the clearing. He hears a soft snore from the child and takes her advice drifting off.

Over the next day or so, with the meticulous care of Cara, Din gets back to normal.

“Hell of a scar.” She says with a smirk. After getting a closer look at the scar, silvery against the Mandalorians tan skin, she straightens back up. Cara would be lying is she said she wasn’t admiring her handy work.

“Good story to tell one day.” Din says deadpan. Cara rolls her eyes but can’t help to hide the smile on her face. Din smiles back with the tilt of his head.

[dinmadness]

Can anyone send me some drabble prompts about the show? I’m struggling with writing and I need to get the juices flowing so I can freaking finish my Mando&Son prompt list. 8 fics out of 50 I started a year ago is terrible.

Send me an ask (anon or not) and I’ll write a drabble for it.

m/m | f/f | m/f | gen

Romantic | Platonic

[dinmadness]

Request(from ao3): could you maybe do a whump fic about, idk, Din having a bad cold or something but trying to hide it from Cara/Grogu?

Pairing: Din Djarin & Cara Dune

Tags: Sick Din Djarin, little bit’o whump?

You can also read it here along with all of the prompts I have written.

Fic under the cut!

Cara watches Din carefully over the top of her boots as he sits down in one of her desk facing chairs. Her eyes scan him, taking in the small details. Something isn’t quite right. The man is giving off vibes like she’s never seen before. She wants to ask what’s wrong but she doesn’t want to pry. The Mandalorian gives little away about himself unless it involves the child.

“So, how are you holding up?” She asks carefully, hiding the concerning tone well enough. Din shrugs as he sets the child down in the seat next to him. Cara watches as Grogu fights being put down, small green hands gripping his fathers forearm plates. Once released he holds his arms up to be held again. Din wags his finger - no - and the child stops and plops down with a sigh, his long green ears falling, defeated.

“What’s up with him?” She quirks an eyebrow. The Mandalorian looks down at the child and back to Cara, he only shrugs again.

Something is up. He’s been acting strange for a few days now. Cara is thinking she is going to give up on being considerate and just ask what the hell is wrong.

“Alright, what’s going on?” She drops her feet and leans on the desk clasping her hands together. “You’ve been acting strange. Spill it!” She demands.

He sits stalk still for a moment. “Nothing is wrong.” He finally says crossing his arms.

Such a liar, she scoffs.

Without warning, one of the officers under Cara opens the door and a breeze from the cool evening air swishes past the trio and Cara catches the shiver that overtakes the fully covered man. The officer placed a file down and gives her a brief detailing of the days work.

She watches from the corner of her eye, the child try’s to get Din to hold him again. She dismisses the officer with a small smile and a thank you.

Cara turns her attention back to the two. “Whatever you say.”

The Mandalorian nods his head and goes to grab something from from his belt when suddenly he is overtaken with a coughing fit. They sound deep and guttural and wet. Grogu starts to fuss beside him but Din puts a hand down to calm him, the child grabs his fingers. Cara rises swiftly from her seat and over to her friend, placing a hand on his back, she can almost feel the fever through his layers.

Once the fit is over, he looks up at Cara who is scowling.

“Care to tell me what the hell is going on?” When she is certain he is done, she walks back around to sit in her seat. “How long have you been sick?”

Din let’s out a broken sigh as his shoulders droop. The child flails his arms around towards Cara for attention and murmurs something that sounds like he’s answering for the Mandalorian. She smiles at him and nods to his father, Grogu takes it as the OK to crawl back into his lap. He begins to purr once he is content, pulling a necklace from beneath his clothes that he starts chewing on.

“I have something you can take.” She says finally and disappearing behind a door for a moment. When she returns, she sets the bottle on the table and pushes it until it’s just on the edge of the desk. “Seriously, take a cap full every 6 hours for a couple days and you’ll be good as new.”

Din tilts his head to the side slightly before leaning over, careful not to squish Grogu, and picks up the bottle. He examines it for a moment before placing it in his belt.

“Thank you.” He says quietly.

Cara nods with a smile and they continue their meeting.

After a couple hours of catching up, they say their goodbyes and Din and Grogu set off. Not without a firm, but gentle, reminder to take the medicine that she gave him.

-

A week or so passes and Cara is currently roaming the streets. Waving and smiling to her people as they hustle and bustle around. The air is crisp today, the chill from days past sticking around. Deciding to head back to her office (essentially no longer able to avoid her paperwork), she notices a familiar ship in the distance. The Crest shining in the afternoon sun.

Just as she expects, her friend and his son are seated like before, waiting patiently.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asks, patting his shoulder as she round the desk.

“I wanted to drop by and thank you again.” He pokes his first finger and thumb into his belt and pulls out the bottle of medicine. “Wanted to return the rest.”

Cara waves him off as he tries to hand it back. “Keep it, I have plenty to share. Never know if you will need it again.”

Din slowly pulls his arm back and places the bottle back on his person. “Thank you.” He says again.

Cara smiles warmly and tells him anytime.

[dinmadness]

Popular Opinion...

Give Mando a boyfriend.

[dinmadness]

I know I said the only reason that Mando should take that helmet off was for the child (and technically he did) but IG-11 removing it to save his life and Mando not shooting him and then being sad later because he was going to lose the droid that he grew attached to has really got me fucked up. I really thought Disney wasn’t going to do us dirty and I’m kinda believing they did.