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kalevalakryze · 1 year

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Pairings: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer, Bo-Katan Kryze & Din Djarin, minor Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth/Boba Fett, Bo-Katan Kryze & Grogu, Din Djarin & Grogu Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, The Armorer, Din Djarin, Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Boba Fett Warnings: s/h scar mention, scars, past violence, past abusive relationships, Pre Vizsla mention, Moff Gideon mention Notes:idk it’s the way I absolutely live for these tattoo au’s where The Armorer fixes Bo’s Death Watch Tattoos and turns the designs into something beautiful, also, kind of based around my own tattoo situation? Very loosely Summary: “Have you ever thought about getting that tattoo covered?” Din questioned as they sat on the dock, her boots just brushing the surface of the lake. “I used to think about it,” Her eyes trailed down to the inky scar tissue across her forearm, the shriek hawk that had been shoved into her skin as a teenager, ink bleeding out to practically give the long white and purple scars a dark backdrop as they wrapped around her arm. “Too much work, I guess. And it’s part of who I am.” “If you’re ashamed of it, why carry around the guilt?” “I’ve done a lot of things, Din Djarin. Sometimes it’s the reminders of who I was, and who I am, that help me get up in the morning,” He seemed to ponder this a minute, as he tossed a crumb from his sandwich into the water, a fish breaching the surface to swallow it. “What if you have it turned into something new?” He suggested as he brought his boot to scrape the rotting edge of the dock. “I guess I haven’t met the right artist in a long time, it would be hard.” Pre was the only one she’d let touch her skin with the tattoo gun, she’d avoided all kinds of artists who’d talked about fixing the work or blown out ink for years. That kind of trust was hard to come by these days, especially for her. “If you ever change your mind, my mom’s good,” “Yeah? Maybe I’ll check her out,” AO3 Link: Here!

Loneliness was not a new concept for Bo-Katan Kryze, it was just another long line in the list of consequences for the actions of her youth. Except, through the darkness, there had been a light. Din Djarin, a younger man, a good dad, and a pillar of support that Bo had wanted nothing more than to leave her alone. Still, every day she spent in her isolation, he would visit, he would even bring his young son, Grogu, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she loved the kid, and he had been absolutely obsessed with her.

Each day, the clan of two would show up at her door and take her with them on some wild adventure. The amusement park had been genuinely fun, and she’d gotten a lot of pictures, and when they’d left that night, she couldn’t deny that going through them had brought a smile to her face.

When Din had introduced his partners, she’d been a little more on edge. She hadn’t exactly been the best to the Fett kid, but even with their rocky past, he still saw past it, had been polite, and had welcomed her into their game night. How Cobb managed to turn Dungeons and Dragons into a cowboy themed role-play game was lost on her, but it had been fun nonetheless.

It was just Din that day, when he’d showed up and asked her to go to the lake with him. He’d seemed contemplative, far in his own head, and she’d felt that herself, hadn’t wanted him to lean into the isolation like she had, so they’d went on their way.

The docks were old, the city abandoning the property it was on when they figured the wastewater drained into the body of water anyways. It hardly counted as a real lake anyways, and they hadn’t been able to stop the dumping, so it had been left alone and marked an overflow reservoir. No one really ventured out that way due to the decomposing conditions, which made it a perfect place for the two Mandalorians, who found a stable piece of the dock to settle on.

Din hung his backpack on a rusty nail sticking from one of the wooden posts, which seemed in much better condition than the rest dock. “How’s Grogu?” Bo questioned as she dropped herself onto a seemingly dry plank that didn’t try to cave in with her weight pressing in on it.

“He’s doing good!” The younger Mandalorian always brightened up when he got to talk about his family, it was a good look on him, seeing him happy, especially with what she’d told him about his recent troubles with his adoptive family. “Cobb and Boba took him to the farm for a few days while things got sorted out,” His brightness slipped, arms crossing his chest as he looked out across the small lake, still standing, he let his boot kick a small rock on the dock.

The dock creaked as the rock tumbled, though he didn’t seem to notice. “I love them, I do, My mom, and Paz… It just doesn’t feel fair, that I try to do something right for Grogu, and-“ He never got to continue, when his weight shifted next, the rotting boards under his feet splintered and broke, and he was being swallowed by the dark, murky abyss of nasty lake water.

Before she could even fully process what had happened, Bo-Katan was already shoving herself off the dock, headfirst into the water that Din was thrashing for purchase in. The water was too dark to see in, and when she tried to open her eyes, the chemical waste stung. She had to focus on the movement of his thrashing to find him, and when his fist met her arm, she was able to grab a hold and start shoving him to the surface.

He hadn’t made it easy for her however, thrashing the entire way, inexperience in the water evident as he kicked his feet with no direction. They breached the surface and he managed to just barely keep himself afloat long enough for her to give a hard shove to his back. “Grab the dock!” She sputtered, directing him to the intact wood she’d been perched on moments before.

Swimming around him, Bo grabbed a hold of the old wood, hauling herself up and swinging her leg over until she could set her knees into damp wood, grab a hold of his forearms, and yank him up and over as well.

The lake went still, both of their ragged breaths filling the late afternoon air as they sprawled across the dock, absolutely drenched and dripping excess through the slats in the planks, back into the water. “I’m gonna smell like sulfur for weeks,” The damp redhead complained after minutes passed, her nose crinkling at the scent that wafted to her nose.

Every gust of wind had her shivering, despite the heat, so the redhead yanked her sopping wet shirt over her head. She trusted Din enough, at this point anyways. He was doing the same with his own shirt, trying to drape it over any available dry spot so the beating sun could work at least some magic on the clothing.

She had never told Din too much about her past with The Death Watch, had mentioned her involvement in passing, but he’d never seen the tattoos, or really, any of the ink or scar tissue that adorned her body. Neat lines of old scars decorated the insides of her forearms, making stripes in the different art that wrapped around her skin, the ink had never held up for very long, always bleeding out of the textured skin after a few years. Pre had offered to touch up her first piece, once, but then he’d died, and all thought of letting anyone near her with a tattoo gun went out the window.

She had the black shriekhawk inside her left arm with a patchwork of Nite owls and her family’s crest scattered across pale skin all the way to her shoulder, with blacked out tribal bands and thick geometric designs along her right. The paleness of her skin showcased light freckles across her shoulders and back, blue, green, and purple veins just barely visible around her wrists and neck. Scars were smattered randomly across the canvas of her back and torso, fingernail imprints on the side of her throat, a scratch mark across her shoulder blade, a burn on her hip, and other smaller pieces that she only barely remembered the stories of. The Shirek hawk was torn by lines of neat scar tissue, when the goal had been to try and erase the visage. The ink bed out, but the design was still unmistakable where it remained.

She was a walking storybook of her tale, of why people like Din Djarin had been warned to stay far away. She’d only given him glimpses to who she truly was, had revealed parts of her story in slow increments, to try and scare him off, a warning to the true woman he was trying to befriend.

Like her, however, Din also wore his story on his sleeve. His shoulder was decorated with designs of a mud horn fossil, and while he also adorned the mark of the shriek hawk, it had seemed more evolved, reborn, like the Children of the Watch had been. They did not use the design often in their teachings, but with the beasts’ role in the tales, she had understood why they’d felt the need to reclaim it. A winding view of the Mythosaur of Old stretched across his back, tusks wrapping around his sides to tickle his ribs. There were designs that had floated on the backwater cities, back when Separatists marched the streets, spreading filth.

He never talked much about how he was brought into their culture, and she didn’t ask. Just like, as dark eyes followed the trail of ink and scar, the roadmap of her own story, he did not ask. The two settled in against the dock, while he dug through his thankfully dry backpack to toss her a wrapped up sandwich.

“Have you ever thought about getting that tattoo covered?” Din questioned as they sat on the dock, her feet just brushing the surface of the lake.

“I used to think about it,” her eyes trailed down to the inky scar tissue across her forearm, the shriek hawk that had been shoved into her skin as a teenager, ink bleeding out to practically give the long white and purple scars a dark backdrop as they wrapped around her arm. “Too much work, I guess. And it’s part of who I am.”

“If you’re ashamed of it, why carry around the guilt?”

“I’ve done a lot of things, Din Djarin. Sometimes it’s the reminders of who I was, and who I am, that help me get up in the morning,”

He seemed to ponder this a minute, as he tossed a crumb from his sandwich into the water, a fish breaching the surface to swallow it. “What if you have it turned into something new?” He suggested as he brought his boot to scrape the rotting edge of the dock.

“I guess I haven’t met the right artist yet, it would be hard.” Pre was the only one she’d let touch her skin with the tattoo gun, she’d avoided all kinds of artists who’d talked about fixing the work or blown out ink for years. That kind of trust was hard to come by these days, especially for her.

“If you ever change your mind, my mom’s good,”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll check her out,”

They spent hours at the dock, that night. Both of their phones were good and ruined from the water, so he’d never heard his partner calling him. Neither of them had a single thought about going on their way, drying off in the sun as they passed stories of what they’d been taught about their people, putting similar stories together to see the other side.

Headlights flashed as someone pulled into the empty parking lot nearby. Soon, the babbling of a child and two sets of adult footsteps filled the clearing, until Di’s partners, and his son were visible.

“Patu!” Grogu warbled, before his small legs had him running towards the two Mandalorians. It was not Din that he ran to, but Bo-Katan, who, with minor hesitance, picked him up at his insistence.

“Hey bud, did I keep your dad too busy?” She questioned as she balanced the small child on her hip, who seemed very interested in following the path of the scar that chased up her shoulder.

“Patu,” He nodded his head, as his face tried to form something akin to seriousness, though a crooked smile took over, before the boy was breaking out in laughter.

Bo handed Grogu over to Din, before she moved to grab her now, thankfully, dry clothes and tug them on.

“Went for a dip?” Cobb questioned as he moved to greet his partner.

“A little bit,” Din replied with a soft laugh and a shake of his head, shifting Grogu in his arms. “Bo, do you need a ride back?” He questioned, jabbing his thumb towards the lot.

“No, I’m good, let your mom know I might swing by soon, though? The Forge, right?”

“That’s the place,” They bid their farewells with the promise to see each other soon on the horizon, with Bo-Katan’s thoughts churning a hailstorm in her mind around the winding ink across her body.

#bo katan kryze #the armorer #the mandalorian #bo katan x the armorer #nitearmor #star wars #Din Djarin #Dinbo friendship #the dinbromance #din djarin x cobb vanth x boba fett #tattoo au #modern au #idk why I'm only writing modern aus #but oh well #fic writing

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