#this is why I need din and the kid to get mixed up with the whole rebel crew: chaos.

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

Ezra: With the benefit of hindsight, I’ll admit teaching Grogu to ride Chopper was ill conceived. But, right now, our priority is not to attribute blame: it’s to find them.

[pedroshotwifey]

Favorite Bounty chapter 6

Series masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 6k

Chapter summary: Was it all just a misunderstanding? Is it too late to find out?

Chapter warnings: Violence ig lmao, angst?, Mando being a sappy bitch, mentions of smut, breeding kink?

A/N: Hey babes! I hate this, but I really hope you like it because it's all I've got! <3

***

Din can’t remember the last time he felt unsure of his actions. But as he watches the ship in front of your’s blow up, thanks to his missile, he starts to second guess everything he’s ever done that might have led up to this moment. Before he can understand what’s happening, bits and pieces are flying back, right into your junker ship. 

A wave of heat sends your ship back, taking side-paneling with it to expose vulnerable parts of your craft. Shrapnel begins to find a home in these spots, digging in and breaking it apart from the outside, likely jacking every system up within seconds. There’s a lot of damage about to be done, he knows that much as he eyes a larger piece headed for the front. Right where you are. 

He feels a weight in his chest sink down to his stomach, the unfamiliar feeling causing him to lurch into action. It hurts, he realizes. It hurts bad. The thought of truly losing you seems to reach inside his chest and squeeze his beating heart to a stop. Something inside him blisters, and every thought from his head that isn’t about you suddenly disappears, and every one that is, is suddenly enhanced. In a flash, he can see every second he’s spent with or around you since that day that your kind soul chose to risk your life to save his son’s. 

He remembers the first time he caught a glimpse of you, the way his breath was stolen from his lungs for the first time in his life as he found you on the floor, coddling his son like he was your own. Something had melted within him in that moment, his heart making room for you without consulting him first. 

The feeling had scared him, if he was being honest. 

So he got his shit together, and he snapped at you. Told you to get Grogu out of here, that he would find you later. You’d looked scared at first, but after he repeated himself, you were on your feet, immediately putting all your needs aside to help him. What kind of woman did that? 

He made sure to keep the nasty crooks he was dealing with at the time away from you and the kid. He was desperate to keep his son safe, but for some reason, adding you—a stranger, mind him—to the mix, doubled his concern. He didn’t understand why at the time. 

When he had the pirates down and tracked you to the alleyway you were taking coverage in, he couldn’t help but to admire you for a few seconds before revealing himself. The way your brows furrowed with worry, the way you held Grogu with such confidence and tenderness, the way you spoke softly to him even though you were scared out of your mind, it was this combination that almost brought him to his knees. 

The kindness and care that emanated from you then was enough to have millions falling in line behind him. You were a goddess, he was so sure of it. That was when he realized there was something wrong with him. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, especially when he didn’t even know you. 

He had silently scolded himself and attempted to snap himself out of his trance, stepping out in front of you as you frantically looked behind you. Maybe a little too close in front of you, because the next step you took sent you straight into his chest.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to help his predicament. Your scent easily infiltrated his helmet, hypnotizing him in a way that was harder to just shake off. 

He had seen the way your body prepared to run again, so he reached out and grabbed your wrist to keep you with him. That was the first time he got a good look at you, when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, full of fear that quickly turned to relief as you realized it was just him and not a threat. 

His stomach had flipped, which is the first time he could recall it doing so. 

He wanted to get to your level, ask if you were okay, but instead, he held his hand out like a dumbass. He also hadn’t realized that he was simply incapable of doing something like that. He’d asked—okay, demanded—for the kid, and you’d looked almost embarrassed as you reached to pass him over. 

And that’s when he heard the sounds of pirates gaining on him, and reached out to pull you to him before he could think about it. Your body felt way too good against his, even through the layers you both had on. He remembers one of the biggest threats in that specific moment was his own hardening cock working against him. 

You protested, and he slapped a hand over your mouth to silence you, giving you instructions to get to his ship. You listened to him then, and he knew he didn’t stand a chance after that. You ran off for the crest, and after a few grazes and a shot to the leg, he was off after you, throwing himself into the hull. 

He was losing blood from the injury on his leg, but he still managed to get the ship into the air and away from the immediate danger. It was only once he was out of the atmosphere that he let himself back down the ladder to find you sitting with a sleeping Grogu in your lap. 

He had hobbled over to a crate, digging out a medkit, and did his best to ignore his feelings—and the urge to pass out—as he tried to patch himself up. You, of course, saw his struggle, and had put Grogu up to come help him, even though he had not been necessarily kind to you. 

You looked so good sitting there between his legs, meticulously cleaning and bandaging his wound. He tried not to get caught in the features on your face, the different expressions that crossed it as you worked through the process. He had found himself wishing he could memorize each one of them individually. 

That night, the most he gave you was a ‘thank you’, and you were grateful anyway. He was barely able to remember all the details, but he remembered enough to be comfortable with you staying on the Crest. 

As the days went by, he had quickly, though reluctantly, come to realize that he deeply enjoyed your company. At first, when he noticed that he often found himself gravitating to wherever you were, he tried to ignore it, to play it off as coincidence that you always ended up in the same place as him. For some strange reason, each time he had the urge to go into the hull to look for something in storage—usually something that wasn’t really necessary at the moment—you were already there. Everytime he took a trip to the kitchenette for a ration packet—even though he was well aware that he wasn’t hungry—you were sat at the little table, already eating a pack yourself or feeding little spoonfuls to the kid. 

Eventually, he caught himself. It had only been a few weeks at that point since you had joined him and Grogu on the crest, but he could already feel the urge to protect you, to claim you as his own, to have you in his sights at all times. When he came to terms with that fact, he made up even more excuses to cover it up. It was instinct. He had just gone too long without human interaction, he was just naturally protective, the list went on. He did pride himself for a little while, for the way he was able to hold back from you, though it was a harder task than he would like to have admitted. 

Not only did he have the urge to keep you safe, he also had a nagging want to bend you over a crate and fuck you into oblivion everytime you passed by him in the hull. Fortunately, he had a sound enough mind to refrain from doing that, but he couldn't help but to place his palm on the small of your back each time, gently urging you past him. Unfortunately, just that action was enough to have him stiff in his pants, suddenly in dire need of solitude so he could find his quick release instead of holding one of his hands in front of his crotch for the next hour. 

Every now and again, he would get bold and tease you the slightest bit. Just to see if you would do something about it. Slip comments that could pass as flirty. Watch you for a little longer than what was normal because he knew you would tell after a minute. Sit in his Pilot’s chair with his legs spread and his half-hard bulge on display. Okay, that one definitely had you flustered. 

So yes, other than that minor detail, he did good at first, kept his distance, made it seem like he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t want to even look your way. He did feel bad about it for a while, and had to convince himself that pushing you away was for your benefit as well as his. If he backed off and showed no interest, maybe you would back off too and he wouldn't have to spend his time avoiding you. 

No such luck.

If anything, the stoic persona he adapted for you only pulled you in. When he ignored one of your questions, you would ask two more. Every time you told him that you were going to do something, he would nod, giving you the smallest form of acknowledgement he could think of, but it never stopped you from doing it. 

You were the kindest, gentlest person he had ever met. You stayed with him and Grogu, going with him to different parts of the galaxy to watch the kid while he brought in bounties. You never asked for anything, and you never asked to leave. 

He remembers the first time he let himself show you affection. How could he not have? You probably saved his life. Again. 

He had landed you on a frigid planet to track down a bounty, and that had been his first mistake. He knows his armor is enough for most conditions, but apparently not for temperatures below freezing for a long amount of time. 

By the time he was hauling the crook he had hunted down with him back to the crest, he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. Every part of him had ached, and he felt on the verge of passing out. Even through all this though, he hadn’t failed to spot the snowman out in the clearing that only could have been your doing. The top was shaped like a Mandalorian helmet instead of a ball, and he had smiled despite himself, and despite the way his lips cracked painfully as he did so. 

He took the bounty into the crest, shoved him into a carbonite chamber, and that was the last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness. He had woken up to your worried face hovering over him, your fingers pressed to the pulse point on his throat. 

He didn’t even have the energy to react, or maybe it was just that your presence put him at ease. Either way, he did nothing more than lay there and gasp, trying to suck in the air he had lost in his unconscious state. 

His first thought was that it was warmer. 

You had taken care of him, warmed him up. And you started rambling about how scared you were to lose him, and how you were worried that he would be mad because you turned the heat on even though he wanted to conserve energy. 

He was too stunned by you to really pay attention to much else than the way your lips wrapped around each word as it spilled from your mouth. He wiped a tear as it fell from your cheek, and he could see the shift within you as he did so. 

That was the first night he allowed himself to hold you. He blamed it then on being too physically and mentally exhausted to think properly. And in his defense, he doesn’t remember much else from then purely because of that fact. But he does remember the way he felt at home for the first time in much too long. 

He was gentle that next morning when he woke up with you still atop him. He knew you were awake, but he played into your game anyway. He had this urge to give you whatever he could to make you smile. He wanted to thank you, to make sure you knew he could never really be mad at you for anything. 

But then came the crash from the front of the ship. He knew immediately that it was pirates. All at once, he felt the softness he was showing toward you, and the vulnerability that came with it. And that scared the hell out of him. 

He hopped up and instructed you to stay with Grogu in his bunk. You did, of course. You got yourself situated and he was just about to open the gangplank, when the crooks got to it first. Before he could think about what he was doing, he had whipped around and shot the control panel to the bunk, concealing you and the kid. He had almost the entire group down when he heard the bunk screech back open. 

He took the last one out by smashing his head between his own helmet and the paneling of the Razor Crest. When he bolted back into the crest, he found you balled up, protecting the kid with your entire body, as a pirate reached for you. 

He had the creature dead on the ground before he understood what happened. When he looked back up at you, there were tears in your pretty eyes. The sight made his stomach twist into a nasty knot. He had you in his arms, the child rested between you, within seconds. 

He wanted to hold on to you forever, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He needed to get this mess cleaned up so you didn’t have to look at it. You shouldn’t have to look at ugly things. He helped you down from the bunk, watching that you could stand on your own feet without assistance. 

He nudged the body at your feed to the side so you wouldn’t trip, and something fell out of the pirate’s pocket as he did so. His chest clenched as he recognized the item. A bounty puck. But what made his blood run cold was the sight of your face on it. He pulled his hand back from you in shock, and bent down, scooping up the crook, and the bounty puck, before you could see it. 

A panic started to settle in his brain. Should he tell you? How many people were after you? How was he going to keep you safe? 

He barely heard you telling him that you were putting the kid back down through the frantic thoughts running through his head. He remembers nodding, too stunned to do much more than that. It was his fault. He didn’t keep you safe. He put you in harm's way. 

This was exactly why he shouldn't get close to you, or let you get close to him. 

He’d busied himself with cleaning everything up and disposing of the bodies while you were in the fresher, and then went to let you know that he would be going out to find some fuel. Your tone was clipped with annoyance when you spoke back to him, and he felt a twinge of hurt despite himself. 

He tried so hard not to let you have an effect on him, but you always did. 

He’d stood outside the fresher door, debating what to say. Should he apologize? He wanted to. Badly. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So he told you he would be back soon, and he left. 

That was the same day he came home to find you with your hands shoved in your panties, moaning his name as you worked at your cunt, and he thought he was dreaming. Surely he had been ambushed and knocked out on his way to town. 

There was just no way that a sweet, gentle thing like you could find him attractive in any sort of way. Especially with the way he acted toward you earlier. He was quiet and brooding, yet you must have sensed the humanity in him even through your frustration. 

He had stood there shocked as he watched you get yourself closer and closer to the edge, trying to talk himself out of what he knew he wanted to do. And just as you were about to come, he made his presence known. Din is not a weak man, but he was in that moment. 

He watched the horror and embarrassment on your face as you realized you had been caught just as you came on your hand. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, the flush of your face and the glow of your skin. He’s still surprised he didn’t come in his pants at the sight.

You’d let him have you that night. He still doesn’t understand why, but he’ll never fucking forget the way it felt. He was able to use his hands to bring you pleasure, and then you thanked him by doing the same for him with your gorgeous mouth. That same mouth that talked so sweetly to Grogu, that let little jokes slip, that distracted the kriff out of him on the daily. 

Even after all that, you’d fallen asleep with him again. You’d passed out fairly quickly, but he’d stayed awake a little longer just to savor the feeling of your body in his arms. It gave him time to really think about what he’d just done. The things he just changed. It gave him enough time to realize how stupid he was for giving in. 

Which is why, the next morning, he got up and left the bunk before you woke up. It wasn’t a few minutes later that he heard you trying to pry the broken bunk door back open, which had frozen itself shut. He waited a moment to see if you could get it up yourself, but eventually took pity on you and lifted it himself. 

As badly as he wanted to, he’d said nothing to you. Just stepped to the side so that you could get down. It made his stomach ball up in a way that he’d never felt before, but he couldn’t break the promise he made to himself the night before. That he couldn’t let himself get close to you, that he needed to continue being cold, because that’s just who he is. Right?

You were determined up to that point, he’ll give you that, you’d never seemed to let him bother you before. So when he saw the look on your face when you came face to face with him and realized that he’d be continuing his facade, he could have sworn that he could hear his heart crack. It took everything in his power to not gather you into his arms and console you, tell you that you did nothing wrong, that everything was okay between you. He realized then that he had gone too far, that it wasn’t fair to keep switching up with you. But he couldn’t stop now. 

He hated himself in that moment. Hated himself for being the one to make you feel pain when he wanted to be the one to protect you. But that was exactly the problem, he couldn't have you and keep you safe. If anyone ever found out that he had feelings for you, and hurt you to get to him, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He’d walked away then, even though he wanted to stay. It was selfish and even in that moment he knew it was the wrong option, but he couldn’t stay. You found him up in the cockpit a little later, clearly upset. But instead of trying to help you, he informed you that he would have to go out in search for fuel again. It was hell pretending like nothing happened, but he genuinely thought it was for the best. He knows now that he was a damn fool. 

As he crunched through the thick layers of snow a few hours later, he tried to rid you from his thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand and he knew he would have plenty of time to kick his own ass later. He needed to get off that planet within the day, because with the fob he found on the pirate by his bunk yesterday, there’s no way he could afford to keep you in one spot any longer than that. He had no doubt in his mind that he was the reason you’re in danger. He needed to get you back to Nevarro so he could fix the mess he’d stumbled upon. He didn’t want you to be stuck as a bounty for any longer than absolutely necessary. 

Luckily, he was able to find fuel and was on his way back to the Crest before he knew it. He commed you to have you open the hatch once he was close, and you thankfully complied. As the ship came into view, so did the lump of snow that you’d built a snowman out of. He didn’t like the ache that made its way into his chest just then. He did his best to ignore it as he approached the ship. 

He had found it odd that you had left one of the knots up on the ramp but he brushed it off as he stepped into the Crest. You had probably just forgotten, it was a little late, later than you usually stay up, so you were likely tired and probably went to bed after he hung up the call. After he closed the ramp he called your name anyway, and when you didn’t answer either time, he figured his assumption was right, and that you had fallen asleep. So when he found you awake and scrambling around in his bunk, he was confused to say the least. 

You had looked panicked and had knocked right into him before he even had the chance to move out of your way. You hadn’t even given him a chance to ask what you had been doing before you started explaining yourself, well, trying to anyway. Something about Grogu’s ball and looking for hours. Din knew you were lying, he can usually tell when someone is lying, and you might just be the worst liar he had ever met. 

Even if you had sounded even the tiniest bit convincing, he would have found out sooner than later because when he climbed up into the cockpit after finally refueling, the ball you had been talking about was right where it was supposed to be—screwed into a control on the dash. It felt like a twist in his gut to know that you don’t trust him enough to tell him the truth about what you were doing, but he didn’t want to push it any further, so he let it go. What really got to him, though, was the way you had almost looked scared of him when he found you.

It shocked him to the core, and he had stood there like an idiot, stuck in place with guilt. Sure, he had been a little cold to you, but he thought for sure that you knew he would never even think of hurting you. He can’t imagine ever wanting to lay a harmful finger on you, he would gladly sacrifice himself before he let that happen. You are so good. A genuinely kind person, and he is…not. 

He has taken so many lives, put so many more on the line, and you have done nothing but spread kindness. He is nobody and he knows that he would worship at your altar should he ever get the chance. Never in his life had he met someone who had made him feel the way you do, made him think the things he does. He knows he should have said something, made sure you know the truth, but he didn’t know where to start. Would you have listened to him if he did? It doesn’t matter now, because—like an idiot—he’d just accepted the fact that he must have messed things up more than he initially thought. 

He’d forced himself to shake it off before he took one more peek into the hull to make sure you were asleep so he could set the course for Nevarro. As soon as the Crest made its way out of the atmosphere, he locked the door to the cockpit and released the pressure on his helmet, taking it off and setting it down in the left of the two seats behind him. 

His head immediately felt clearer. He hadn’t taken it off since before he last left the Crest, and though he has a built in purifier, he can’t help but feel like the air gets a little stale after so long with it on. After he took a few minutes to calm down and enjoy the fresh air, he looked down to the navigation system which told him it would take about three days to reach Nevarro. He remembers wishing it could be sooner, but he was willing to take what he could get. He knows that as soon as he’d land, his plan would consist of going right to Karga to demand he take you off of the bounty list. His main goal was just to keep you safe until he can make that happen, well aware that it was his fault that you were on there in the first place. 

He figured it out pretty quick, the reason for your wanted status. Someone had seen you helping Din and the kid on your home planet, and had gotten into contact with the empire, offering your name for a reward. He knows that you didn’t do anything before he had picked you up, you’re too good, too pure to cause anyone any kind of harm. He may not have known you well, but he knew you well enough for that to be obvious. There's no way he would have left you alone with Grogu for even a second if he thought otherwise. 

It definitely helped that you were so good with the kid, taking care of him as if he were your own. Watching you play with or feed Grogu did something to Din, as much as he hated to admit it. The first time he saw you caring for the child, the domestic sight awakened something in him that he had no idea even existed. 

He recalled then watching you, settled in the doorway behind you as you played with the kid. Much to his chagrin, the picture had quickly morphed into you and Grogu surrounded by other small children. All of them were a mixture of you and him, some with his eyes, some with your hair. He’d imagined your belly full and round with his child and thought that you somehow looked even more beautiful. 

He saw himself standing behind you, his bare hands on your shoulders, not a scrap of armor on as he watched you feed giggling children spoonfuls of broth. He had given your shoulders a small squeeze and you looked up, gazing lovingly into his naked eyes before he dipped down and slotted your lips together. He had snapped himself out of that fantasy almost as quick as he had thought it up, but that night, he masturbated to the thought of taking you to bed and fucking you full of his cum over and over until it took. 

Din felt an unfamiliar lump in his throat as he had forced himself yet again to stop thinking about you. He only left his helmet off long enough to scarf down a ration pack before putting it back on and making sure the ship is on autopilot. When he stood up, planning to make a much needed trip to the ‘fresher, he felt a weight settle in his gut. It was heavy and it felt a whole lot like guilt. He still couldn’t seem to get past the hurt and hint of fear in your eyes when you looked up at him after he caught you in his bunk. 

It’d only been an hour and it was already haunting him.  He wasn’t able to take it. He’d stalked back down the ladder with intentions of apologizing. He’d needed to tell you the truth. Maybe then you would’ve been able to trust him again.

When he spotted you, you were asleep in your cot, and his shoulders sagged a bit. He walked your way anyway, just to check if you are really asleep. He didn’t want to wake you if you were. Halfway to you, he saw you flip over as if he had startled you. He’d stopped in place and watched as you sat up and quickly looked him up and down. When your eyes fell back to his helm, he forgot how to speak. 

You looked like you hadn’t slept at all, and your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. He felt his heart squeeze at the distraught look in your eyes. His first reaction is to sweep in and take you into his arms, to hold you and wipe your tears from your cheeks. He wanted so badly to comfort you and tell you that everything would be okay, that he would make it okay, but when he took another step in your direction, you flinched away. 

Din won’t ever forget how his heart dropped to his stomach, knowing you really were scared of him. The reality of it hit him like a ton of bricks. You didn’t want him. He didn’t understand, you seemed so interested before he had left to find more fuel. He knew that it had deterred you when he left you in his cot alone the morning after you gave into each other, but he didn’t do anything that might have changed your mind in that sense. Unless maybe he had been too rough... Had he hurt you in some way? 

He wanted to say something, but he, again, didn’t know what. Would you even have wanted him to say anything? He should’ve at least asked you if he had done something wrong—other than the obvious which he knew he should apologize for—but the words become stuck in his throat. He only stood there for another minute before he decided to leave you alone. Maybe you just needed some time? Not likely. He fucked up, he ruined it all, and he deserved whatever you wished of him in that moment. He had settled on nodding in your direction and had headed for the fresher, ignoring the pain spreading internally. 

He didn’t talk to you again until three days later when he landed on Nevarro. He was a mess at that point—sleep deprived, depressed, dehydrated, and hungry. You were already hitting him hard and he’d still had you at that point. He hadn’t failed to notice, however, that you almost looked worse than he felt. Like you hadn’t slept at all. 

You had started to get jumpy around him, easily frightened at every little sound or jolt of the ship. You avoided him more than ever and “slept” more than ever. It seemed like you wanted off of the Crest, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to have your freedom with a bounty on your head. He needed to get to Karga and fast. 

He had a plan to get back to you and come clean about everything, and then after, if you still wanted to leave, he would let you. Just the thought about killed him, but he would rather you be happy and content somewhere else in the galaxy than miserable with him. 

So he gathered his pucks, made sure you would stay on the Crest, and set off to meet Karga. He met him in the usual cantina and took a seat after handing Grogu off to the man across from him. He was able to get to the point fairly quickly, successfully avoiding the usual small talk by presenting your puck. 

He wasted no time in explaining the situation, though he obviously kept out the more…intimate details. It took some convincing for him to get Karga to believe that you were really innocent, but he eventually gave in. He knew better than to think Mando would lie to him. 

The deal was that he would go back to the ship to grab you, and then he would bring you back to “turn you in”. Once he did that, he would refuse the money he would have gotten from your price, and Karga would be able to erase your record from the registry. It seemed like it would work.

Well, it seemed like it would have worked if you had been there to retrieve, at least. It wasn’t until he got back to an empty ship that he realized he was a blinded idiot. The panic that he had felt in that moment was immeasurable. He thought for sure that you had been taken, but after reviewing some camera footage from outside the Crest, it was easy to rule that out. 

You’d been able to evade him for weeks—which he honestly wasn’t too surprised about. You were fucking smart, after all.

But he never could have thought he would be in the situation he’s in now. Your life is in immediate danger, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He now watches helplessly as the large chunk of ship in front of you pummels your way. He doesn’t even think about it before he’s moving your way. 

He catches a glimpse of your body, unconscious and floating due to the broken air seal around your ship. You’re beat up and your clothes are almost rags. He feels an unfamiliar wetness run down his cheek just as he reaches you. There’s probably only a few seconds before the fuel tank ruptures in the spice runner’s ship and you’re both dead. That is, if the debris doesn’t reach you first.  

His ship is pretty banged up, and even as he uses it to block your ship from danger, he knows it won’t survive the impact. He’s right, of course, he realizes as soon as the ships collide. He’s knocked from his seat as the front of his ship is absolutely demolished. He’s at a loss as for what to do, but he doesn’t regret trying to save you for just a few more seconds. 

Everything is so bright and loud. The explosions coming from all three crafts, the alarms blaring from detected damage and breach. Din feels a crushing amount of fear and weakness, which is something he never thought he would experience in his adult years. It feels like he’s that little boy again, hiding alone and helpless in a cellar as his parents are killed above him. He wants nothing more than to give up, but he can’t. Even if he wanted to, he can’t.

Just then, he spots an opening in the side of your craft, and he knows what he has to do. With all of this strength, he opens his gangplank, jumps from his ship, and propels toward the makeshift entrance of yours, determined to get to you before the lack of air in space takes you from him forever.

He works quickly, though with shaky hands. One second to send a distress signal to Nevarro, another to release the seal on his helmet, then one more to finally grab you and pull you to him. 

Whatever happens, you’re making it out of this.

***

Thank you for reading!! Taglist is open!

Series taglist: @oscarissac2099 @millercontracting @m0unta1n @1dk-tbh @anoverwhelmingdin

[odetodilfs]

THE ULTIMATE PEDRO BOYS RANK!

(ft. my own opinions)

This is a lil idea I had while talking to a friend and it started off with a top 5, but I decided to rank all Pedro boys here, but quite frankly, I love them all and it's just a miniature difference with each. NSFW mentions, but probably anyone can read. The list goes from top to bottom btw, my dumbass did it the wrong way round. I haven't watched some of the things some of these guys are in so just keep that in mind. Remember these are my own opinions and you're allowed to disagree with me!!

#1 Marcus Moreno

Now, he's not the most known, not the fan favorite, he's in the middle for fandom standards, but this guy is the cutest for me. Like I don't care how terrible the movie itself is I fell in love with that man his first second of screen time. He seems like the type to make breakfast for you in bed, he seems like the type to kiss you every morning, he seems like the type to be perfect. Also his world and situation is (considerably) more calm than most of the other Pedro boys, he's not a gun dealer, he's not in a world where a fungus has taken over, he lives a mostly normal life. AND COME ON, TELL ME THIS GUY ISN'T AS LOYAL AS A DOG. He's also a dad, and I love dads <3 With this, Marcus wins the #1 spot!

#2: Javier Peña

Javier couldn't score any lower than this. Sure, his life is considerably more agitated than Marcus's and he IS a huge manwhore... BUT I CAN FIX HIM!! I'd fulfill his dream of living in a ranch in Texas, I'd be his forever. He's also got that mustache and you KNOW he's good in bed, any position, Dom or sub, he does it ALL! And he'd also be hella protective of you too.

manwhore on #2

#3 Frankie Morales

He's so.. he's so adorable!! Frankie is just so cute and seems like the type of guy that would do it all for his partner. I just know his heart fills with joy when he sees you, his kid and him as a family. Why does he also seem like the kind of guy to verbally worship you and thank him every time he goes to sleep? I don't know, but even then, he's still so cute, (and probably good in bed).

Frankie Morales on #3 probably cause of my love for dads lmfao

#4 Javi Gutierrez

Goddamn, this man, this beautiful ass man, I'll never get over him, his puppy eyes, his everything. He's kind of like a more energetic version of Marcus, kind of, and he just seems super caring and adorable. I just know he wouldn't get tired of telling you how beautiful you look, how you're his world and that he loves you. When he gets tough he's also kind of cute btw.

#5 Pero Tovar

I'm not gonna lie... I'm guilty of having slept on Pero for hella long, but that's not the case anymore as he ends up #5 on this list! I see him kind of as a mix between Joel and Din. AND THAT SCAR, LORD...

I just wanna kiss this man all over and give him the loving he deserves. I also definitely see him taking out his weapons at anyone insulting you, he'd just be so in love with you.

#6 Joel Miller

Of course, the iconic Joel Miller can't be any lower than this, he's so adorable, like even if he's a mass murderer, he did it in the name of his daughter! Joel would be a very hard and strong man, if he has a soft moment with you, it means he plainly loves you and trusts you. And his brown eyes oh my god, and the greying hair, god, he's so amazing, I wanna take care of him. He'd be super protective and possessive of you too. Also he's a dad, of course lmfao.

#7 Tim Rockford

He's got cake, a hot ass mustache, shoulder holsters and a hot ass attitude with beautiful brown eyes. The only thing that kind of holds him back is the lack of a proper story, but that's amazing for fics as you don't really need an AU 99% of the time. I feel like he'd be really soft with his partner and constantly trying to make time for them and sometimes invite them to his office, he also seems like the type of guy to sneak behind you and give you hugs from behind .

#8 Oberyn Martell

A classic. Our slutty bisexual prince, who doesn't love that combo? We have canon confirmation that this man is good in bed too. I have the Headcanon that he's an amazing power bottom, but that's just me. I feel like he'd be super protective of you and constantly try to show his strength and attractiveness to you, even if you don't mean it, he'd definitely spoil you too.

#9 Din Djarin

Our little Mandalorian with social anxiety <3, I love him so much, he's so cute and I'm glad he got the ending he deserved with his child, (let me live in Nevarro with you and Grogu, I'll make you happy I swear). He's the definitely the protective type, and his patience is real short so it's best to not mess with you, Grogu or him. I feel like he'd have trouble taking off the helmet mainly cause he feels insecure that you won't like him.. but little does he know you're only gonna love him more, and eventually when he does do it, it's an amazing decision.

#10 Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Now, Whiskey and #11 were a hard pick, I had a mental debate of who to put first, alas, Whiskey got #10. He's a cowboy, what's not to love? That mustache and his confidence, oh my god. His backstory makes me wanna comfort him so bad and just the reassurance, I feel like he'd also be extremely protective because of what happened with his ex wife and he doesn't want anything to happen to you as well. I feel like at some point he'd also like to become a father with you. Overall, so cute and probably good in bed as well.

#11 Dio Morissey

Oh my, it's certainly a switch up from the other Pedro boys. Much more blunt and dominant in general. But he's still super fine which got him the 11th spot. I know this man is extremely freaky in bed, and dominant as fuck too. Outside of the bedroom though, he'd give people death stares if he thinks they're looking at you weirdly and even if sometimes he's certainly quite strange, it has a certain charm to it don't you think?

The hot goth at #11

#12 Silva

Now, I was debating whether or not to put Silva here as Strange Way of Life isn't really out yet, but there's gifs of him, so I decided why not? This ranking will definitely go up when it gets released, as now I simply struggle to make head canons with him cause we know so little about him. I just know he's very passionate and would defend you so bravely. He'd do anything for his man and it shows, and the cowboy hat looks good. This cowboy can totally ride me!! He's my beautiful queer rep too, and I swear if I see fem reader fics of this guy my gay ass is jumping you.

#13 Dieter Bravo

Our favorite (probably bisexual) actor and artist, he's just so cute and cuddly, he'd give you the warmest hugs and cuddles and would constantly need reassurance that you love him which would be so cute. Physicality is his love language most definitely and his favorite way to sleep is with you both cuddling. He's also extremely funny which is just adorable, especially with his sassiness.

#14 Ezra

Our other little space boy <3, he's beautiful, even if he ends up losing an arm, but I'd still love him. He'd definitely recite poems to you under the stars and just come up with nicknames for you. He also looks so soft and looks like the kind to fall asleep in your arms while smiling. He'd always be super grateful to have you and will do anything in his power to please you.

#15 Comandante Veracruz

I feel like he's the super stoic and cutting guy who's hard on the outside but a softy on the inside, kind of like Pero Tovar in a different way. And I know if anyone lays a finger on you he won't hesitate to pull out the guns if he thinks it's enough. With you, he's super gentle, almost like another person but would grieve your touch. He also wouldn't mind using some of that aggressiveness in bed.

#16 Max Phillips

Now I know Dio scored high but he's an exception, but I'm missing the mustache or some facial hair. Even then, Max is still pretty hot and I'd let him feed off my blood if he wants to. He also has a funny personality which gets him far, he's also extremely dominant in bed.

#17 Marcus Pike

He's so adorable but I barely remember the mentalist and didn't watch the episodes he's in, I might rewatch it just for him. But he's really cute, I love their hair and the mustache so that gets him the places above the 2 down below. But he definitely seems like the type to praise your every move. If I knew him better he'd probably overtake Max.

#18 Maxwell Lord

Now... for starters I know literally nothing about this man cause I haven't watched WW1984, and the look kinda just isn't it... he's cute though, passable and probably uses cheesy pickup lines to make you fall for him. Also he's got a got a good ass so that prevents him from being last.

#19 Dave York

Now he's better in looks than Maxwell, but I literally can't think of any headcanons of him since I don't know this character at all in the slightest, so uh... sorry Dave York fans, he might rise in this ranking if I ever watch the equalizer... Ahhh! With this the list comes to an end, once again, I love all Pedro boys with tiny little differences but overall they're all amazing in their own right <3 I know I missed some like him in the Casillero del Diablo ad, but that kind of barely counts as a character considering he doesn't even have a name. Feel free to share your opinion in the comments/tags and please reblog this post!

[din-miller]

To Be Without You

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gn!Reader

Word count: 715

Summary: Comfortember day twelve – dreams

Warnings: nightmares, mention of child death, hurt/comfort

A/N: you can’t get Comfortember without pain. That’s my justification for this. Also this is a day late by 13 minutes and that’s because I spent the usual three hours trying to name this shit.

You’ve been here before, on this desert wasteland, air dry and lungs full of sand, but it wasn’t like this last time. You weren’t staring down at the broken bodies of your husband and son.

No, they didn’t die then, before, you had saved them. So why are you screaming for them to wake up? Begging for them to open their eyes, pleading with the Maker to take you instead.

No, they hadn’t died that day.

So why does this feel so real?

Then, after a heartbeat, Din’s yelling your name but his lips are closed and cold. Blue like the beach you got married on.

The yelling became louder, more persistent, more determined and you closed your eyes, letting your mind focus on the words circling the air around you.

Arms wrapped around you, strong and unwavering and you don’t understand how you’re being comforted when there’s no one around you.

The arms tighten and your eyes fly open, four walls surrounding you; a soft white, nothing like the red specks across the desert sand.

“Cyar’ika you need to breathe.”

It’s Din again. His lips are open as words flow out of them, mute to your ears but they look nothing like the cold ones burned on the back of your eyelids for decades to come.

But look is not enough, no you need to feel the warmth. Which is what you do, the desperate reassurance has Din gasping in surprise, body flying back onto the bed and you wasted no time crawling on top of him.

He lets you lead the kiss, understanding that you need this. You let the anguish inside you bleed into his mouth, letting it mix with the love he’s pouring into you.

It’s enough.

Din pulled back but the warmth of him never left as his forehead touched yours, “We’re all okay. Whatever you saw, we’ll get through it I promise.”

You believe him. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this dream and you know it won’t be the last. You fold yourself against his chest, matching the slow breathing pace he’s set for you. In and out, in and out, once more before a horror creeps up your body and settles in your mind, stealing all the air in your lungs, “Where’s Grogu?!”

“In his room,” Din sweeps his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears you don’t remember letting fall, “I’ll bring him to sleep with us once you calm down.”

“No, no I need to see him now!”

Din sighed but didn't try to put up a fight with you. He’d lose and you both know it. He kept you tucked against his chest as he sat both of you up, “Do you want to bring him in here or should I set up the pull out couch in his room?”

His arms don’t let go of you as you leave the bed and mumble into his shirt, “His room. I don’t think I can sleep in our bed right now, it’s too much.”

“Okay, I’ll set up the futon for us.” Din said softly, guiding you to your son's room.

You don’t fight off his hands but you do shake your head, “You should go back to our bed. It’s better for your back.”

Din huffed, almost offended, “I’m not leaving you.”

You’re first to enter Grogu’s room, needing so desperately to see him alive, unharmed. You crouched down beside his bed, careful not to wake him as Din started setting up the futon for the night.

“Hey,” Din whispered, hand landing on your shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion, “The beds set up.”

“He’s so tiny,” You whispered back, tears building back up but you won’t allow them to fall, “I always forget how tiny he actually is.”

“Knowing our little guy he’s probably bigger than most kids his age,” Din pressed a kiss to his tiny green head and then did the same to yours, “You need to sleep, cyar’ika.”

His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you to the bed as he held you protectively against his chest, letting you breathe in the scent of his person and the soft chamomile that fills Grogu’s room.

“Don’t let go?” You asked.

“Never.” He promised.

[haecien]

What tropes i would absolutely kill to see w/ svt members

(Psst... if anyone sees this and decides to write svt with these tropes @ me please omg)

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Academic rivals - S.coups🍒 ; IVE SEEN @/woozvc NEW AU WITH CHEOL AND ITS MAKES ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS.

He would get so competitive i love him, he would also deff tease you a lot when you'd get a lower score than him

Academic rivals or Trouble maker x Goody to-shoes - Jeonghan👼; Same reason as s.coups for the academic rivals:D idk why... if they ever fucking teased me id be giggling

IVE WRITEN THE LAST TROPE AND OH MY GODDDD, jeonghan would be such a flirt and mixed with teasing??? GOD IM ON THE FLOORR

Soulmates (bonus points if you're soulmates even in pass lives) - Joshua🦌; No matter what, you'll always find yourself back to him. He is the only one fitted for you

BRO. if you both got separated since you both got reborn, he will still find you. He loves you too much that he can't seem to let you go

Actor x fan - Jun😼 ; majority of the times this is very toxic, but no reason like id imagine maybe either you would be apart of the film crew or makeup team, but you were such a big fan of him ever since you watched one drama of him

He would admire how nice you were to him, you never shouted or did anything to make him upset. You were very soft towards him🤭

Workplace love - Hoshi🐯 ; No reason. Jst hear me out! He deff found u as the cool co-worker he could always rely on. Bonus points if its a love at first sight type too🤭🤭

Or maybe it would be a business proposal type of romance

Love at first sight - Wonwoo🐱 ; God i wanna see wonwoo being so whiped after seeing you for even just a glance

He would stand there FROZEN because he was so shocked over how beautiful you were to him.

70's/60's era - Woozi🍚; I jst wanna see woozi in a white long-sleeved shirt with his sleeves rolled back with slick black pants, bonus points if he's also wearing suspenders!!!😭🤭🤭😭🤭😭🤭

Imagine jihoon as a detective, GOD HAWKVEJE he'd be real serious about his job, I feel like suddenly you would be caught up in a case that he needs to investigate. Then you guys become closer in the process😭

Admiring from a far - Minghao🐸; its not you whos admiring him, ITS MINGHAO ADMIRING YOU.🤭🤭

People always wondered who was that person in his paintings? Yeah its you, he saw that you were perfect for being his muse. But how could be possibly contact you? He's too shy for that, he'd constantly paint and paint you, he never rushed it. His strokes were always so light, it made the painting even more beautiful then it is.

At that point minghao had already memorized every little detail about you

I went a lil overboard with hao

Popular kid x Quiet kid - Mingyu🐶; LIKE. He'd literally fucking be the only one who ever payed attention to you. No one could notice you were in the room yet mingyu was the only one who ever felt your presence

Sunshine x Grumpy (basically opposites attract) - Dokyeom🌞 ; Ugh I need a sunshine Dk in my life. He'd be such an energy boost to a very grumpy reader:((

" Whats wrong? Cheer up!! " and he'd endlessly hug you🥺 JAKSJDJIDHD he is an quality time and physically touch person:( acts of service & gift giving too!

Only child x Multiple siblings - Seungkwan🍊;

... hear me out, not sure if kwan has siblings but he's gnna be the one with the multiple siblings, or maybe its an au where svt are his siblings. But non the less kwan would not hesitate to introduce you to his multiple siblings. You're not used to this but this adds on to the warm feeling seungkwan has

Oh my god , that would be comforting and chaotic as hell

Confused x Hyper - Vernon🐢; he deff wouldn't understand your hype about something, but he's trying to😭😭

" VERNON!!! look at this new - ********* " whatever is going through his head is literally a loading screen " uh huh.... " hes confused but he's here for it

Full of themselves x "Get a reality check" - Dino🦦 ; title sounds obnoxious BUT HEAR ME OUT.

Like, the reader would always complement themselves yk "bro everyone wants me forreal! "

And dino is like " Im the only person WHO wanted you. "

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Cien rambles

Guys heuhahwhekshsjhejevrjdbdj PLEASE IF ANY OF U GUYS DO MAKE SMTHING LIKE THIS @ ME OMFGG

[ooops-i-arted]

Rewatching BoBF because I really do enjoy it and it's a favorite of mine, but now it also just makes me sad because THERE WAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL.

First of all, that should've been saved for season 3 and not shafted Boba and Fennec/Temuera Morrison and Ming-Na Wen in their own show. That was bullshit much as I loved the episode.

But imagine if they'd taken all the plot threads in that episode and actually explored and developed them.

Din is clearly suffering from missing Grogu, and conflicted because he knows Jedi are supposed to "forgo attachments"* and Grogu is with his true people/culture now, but also misses him so much and still wants to take care of him and be his father. This is a potential character conflict as Din struggles to support doing the right thing for Grogu with his own feelings of attachments that just gets brushed aside, first when Ahsoka tells him "Naw, don't go see him" and then again when they're hastily reunited.

*This is a Filoni thing and not accurate to the films, Jedi are allowed to have connections to their home life and culture, it's just that they can't use their love of that to overwhelm their duty to Do The Right Thing.

If we add episode 6 to the mix, we don't get to see Grogu train or have much conflict/development himself. He doesn't really get an arc about choosing Din, it's just a cheap cliffhanger. His flashbacks and training are shallow and pretty much just Easter eggs. ("Look it's Order 66 again! Look it's Jar Jar's actor! Look it's one of those laser balls like in ANH!") There could have been more depth to them, like recalling Order 66 and possibly linking his trauma to being a Jedi whether he likes it or not, or other trauma he faced between Order 66 and now (like how did he end up with the Niktos?) and showing that he still uses thoughts of Din to calm himself and still needs his father - he's just not ready for Jedi training and he still needs time to heal emotionally and be a kid. Hell, LUKE could've gotten a beautiful arc where he tries to rigidly hold himself and Grogu to what he thinks the prequel-era Jedi Order were like because he has unfairly placed so much pressure on himself as a teacher and Grogu as his first student, and then instead realizes he's bringing them both down and not doing right. Luke decides he needs to do more research of the old Jedi and possibly ultimately make his own path for the New Jedi Order, and instead offers Grogu the choice between him and Din freely, acknowledging he may not be ready to teach Grogu after all but willing to do so if that's what Grogu needs. Writing wise this would also be smart - Grogu chooses Din for now with the door open to send him back to Jedi training if you take the story that direction again, but you still got you Money Making Merch Duo back together.

Back to Din, we could've started him truly embracing the role of father to Grogu after their reunion, the two of them choosing to make a family together instead of a quick adoption ceremony after a season of Din calling him ward and sending him to training with no prep.

Din isn't great with the Darksaber in this episode, but he seems to want it. He learns its history. He makes an effort to use it and start training with it. He gets feisty when Paz challenges him for it. Even if he doesn't feel totally ready for all it symbolizes, he wants it in BoBF. Why did he suddenly give it to Bo? Because Favroni made him, that's why. Imagine if instead Din looked at all these groups of Mandalorians infighting - Bo and her posse, loners like Sabine and Boba, the Children of the Watch - and thought, imagine what we could do against people like Gideon if we worked together. We have had two season of Din collecting unlikely allies - a rebel shock trooper, an Ugnaught farmer, Guild leader turned Magistrate, a Tatooine mechanic, a deadly assassin, a simple man making his way through the universe, a disgraced Mandalorian princess and her lackeys - and gotten them to join his cause and led them into battle. He is a leader! He has it in him! And "reluctant leader being the best leader" and/or "leader who cares about his people over a throne" is an age-old trope that Din fits perfectly. He could've had an amazing arc of lone bounty hunter to apostate to Mand'alor.

Tack on to that an arc of personal identity as a Mandalorian. Instead of Din going to the Mines in 2 episodes as if checking off a list of boxes, we got a deeper dive in his character. Maybe he bathes in the waters of Mandalore as the Armorer requested and realizes he doesn't feel any different. Maybe exposure to different Mandalorians makes him realize there's more than one way to follow the Creed, and that's okay - and that's what makes him a good leader because he accepts all the little subcultures in the Mandalorians. He puts the helmet on and keeps it on again because he chooses to, because that's what works for him, but no longer chastises those who don't and realizes that he doesn't need the Armorer's approval or word of law to be Mandalorian. Maybe the Armorer herself learns to be less strict and rigid, or realizes Din is the leader who can get their homeworld back. When they meet again not as a member of her covert or someone under her "rule," but as equal leaders with mutual respect.

Another side thought, but imagine if they'd gone ALL THE WAY with Din being an apostate and the Armorer had made him leave his beskar. Unarmored Din must relearn his entire fighting style, struggle with feeling exposed and shamed with no helmet, reach emotional rock bottom and still come out on top by proving himself worthy, not just to the Armorer, but to himself. (I figure this will never happen since they need Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder to be able to physically be Din to do stunts and to help out the filming schedule since Pedro Pascal is so busy, but I do think the concept is cool and would've been some amazing, especially with Pedro's acting.)

[grogusmum]

Halloo, Hazel! 💚 OK, Din and Grogu have one Earth week to visit here (ignoring the how or why). Please and thank you:

First meal you share together? Either home cooked or favorite restaurant; and

One souvenir for each of them to take home, as a reminder of you.

Hey Maggie May! Thank you for playing with me! 💚 I'm sorry this is getting to you Sunday morning, I was getting sleepy and wanted to give this the attention it deserves!

So this is not connected to AGalaxy Far Far Away, but a new take on Din and Grogu on Earth...

This was written on my phone, in my drafts, and barely edited... sorry 😬

Din put Grogu down to let him stretch his legs after a very long journey in the N-1.

"I've gotta get a new Razor Crest," Din sighs, shaking his head slowly . Grogu has much to say on the matter and does so.

"We need to stay here for a few rotations, week tops, then we can finish our journey. Then will give this thing back to Peli."

Din looks around, he needs to feed the kids that's task number one, as if Grogu knows exactly what he's thinking starts complaining and looking for something to eat in the tall grass they find themselves in.

Suddenly, they hear someone laughing and calling to someone else. Din looks, and there is a human with, well, a four-legged animal with fur, reminding him of a fuzzy massif. It catches a disc in its mouth that seems to have been thrown by the human.

Soon, they are out of the tall grass dotted with flowers, and in more manicured grass, there is a large square cloth on the ground and a basket on top of it. A picnic, Grogu recognizes it right away and hustles over.

"Grogu," Din calls, "kid no!"

Before he knows it Grogu has the basket open and is digging into the sandwiches and fruit he finds.

You throw the Frisbee one more time and then head over to have your lunch. You were planning on meeting a friend with their furbaby, but they canceled last minute, so its a picnic for you and Molly, your pitty mix today.

Molly bounds over seeing strangers in her basket.

"Molly!" You shout in surprise. Then, putting on your best alpha dog voice, "Leave It!"

Molly stops only 10 feet from the picnic basket thief, a small green, something, in a little tan coat. Then Molly growls at the armored person.

"Sit-stay." You say, treat in hand, knowing your good girl will follow your directions. When she does, you praise her and give her a bit of chicken.

Din's hand lowers from his blaster.

"I am very sorry, Grogu, is only a child. We've been on a long journey, and he is very hungry. I will happily reimburse you for the food."

You have no idea who or what's going on, but you're incredibly intrigued.

"No problem, I have extra anyway."

Molly watches Grogu hustle up, reaching for her. She gives the little green fella a sniff and Grogu giggles and coos delighted. Molly gives him a big wet kiss that bowls him over. Grogu laughs and scrabbles up.

Instant best friends.

You smile at the whole exchange, comfortable with Molly's behavior with little ones, and since this very usual one is behaving just like a toddler, you knew she would be fine.

"Soooo, Comic Con?"

"Um, I don't... we are here for a week, then heading off world." Din points to the n-1 behind him.

You blanch, hoping it isn't too noticeable.

"Well, okay... wanna sandwich?"

Din hesitates, then takes off his helmet, "Thank you."

Did the sun just come from behind a cloud? This guy is gorgeous, you think... keep cool. Keep cool. You pull out drinks and two more sandwiches not decimated by Grogu. As you eat, you watch Molly, who is now giving Grogu a ride.

"So, um where are you staying?"

"We haven't secured lodging yet," Din says, biting into a sandwich, and then looking at it pleased.

You put a bowl of cut fruit down between you.

"This," Din swallows," is very good, thank you. I insist on giving you some credits."

"Credits?"

He pulls some large discs out of a pouch in his belt. You are not sure what to do. Are they really from "off world"?

"Um, those won't spend here."

Din looks down at the Calamari Flan, then takes out some imperal credits and shows them to you.

"No," you say apologetically.

"Well, huh..."

"Listen, I have a small finished, sort of, basement apartment, I've been renting it to comic con folks for years, and it's available. You can stay there, it's clean and safe."

"You are too kind," Din stammers.

You have no idea what they are, how they got here, but you feel you should help them.

"Not a problem!"

So the week goes along. You have work, but after you take them to see the sights of your little corner of Earth. Molly and Grogu can't hardly be separated, and you've fallen for the little green bean, too. You teach him to throw the frisbee, and somehow, despite having such little arms, his throws sent the frisbee straight and far, and Molly loves it! And Din, well, he’s... oof. You are soon thinking about him after you say goodnight and wonder if his lips are as soft as they look.

On the second to last day, you take a chance and kiss him goodnight.

Which in turn had leaves Din a little dumbstruck, he thinks about your lips pressed against his until he falls asleep and then he dreams about them.

Today is their last day, on Earth or whatever...

Though somewhere during the week, you'd started to think that they were truly aliens from another galaxy, and it just made you laugh at how wild that was.

"We will miss you," Din says, stepping into your space.

"We'll miss you," you tell him, looking into his warm brown eyes. You are never going to forget them.

Din dips his head down, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips meet his, and become hungry. Your arms wrap around his neck, and the kiss deepens further.

When you break away, you are both out of breath and warm from the tips of your ears to the tips of your toes, your lips tingling.

When it's time to say goodbye (for now, Din insists) you give Din the necklace you've been wearing, it's a two inch long quartz crystal with a piece of abalone shell wrapped to the top of it. (Grogu finds it very interesting, but he's given the frisbee, which he's delighted by)

Din prys Grogu from Molly, who licks Grogu and whimpers. Grogu whines and reaches for you and Molly. You blow him a kiss, and hand Din a cooler of sandwiches, fruit, and drinks as Din settles his son in the cockpit.

He puts on his helmet and his gloved hand goes to your cheek.

"Goodbye," you whisper, eyes glistening. Din takes your chin and tips it up gently by one finger-

"Until our paths cross."

"Until our paths cross," you smile as a tear slips down.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! 💚

[davnittbraes]

The Second Step - Chapter Fourteen

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4600

Warnings etc: anxiety, angst, anxiety attack, mentions of past violence, S M U T incl a lil bit of rough manhandling, author reader clearly has a voice kink, like five seconds of thinking about restraints, squirting, Mando is the Fingering King and nothing will convince me otherwise, also has a begging kink because he needs to know he’s wanted, Fun With Mando’a, LOL should probably mention unprotected P in the V stuff but there’s a sci fi prophylactic implant involved

Notes: Time for a break from all this heavy emotional shit, these two need to let off some steam 😉

You hover in the doorway of Mando’s bunk, watching the kid take his first deep breath of true sleep. The curl of his tiny claws loosens around the body of the stuffed frog as his limbs relax, and you carefully tuck one of the frog’s legs into the hammock when it shifts with the movement. 

Stepping back, you lean a shoulder against the wall, keeping your voice low. “Fifty years old, huh? Still so much a child. His species must age very slowly.”

Mando is quiet, a still, silver and dark form in the dim night cycle light of the hold. You know he’s thinking about something, can tell by the tilt of the helmet and the set of his shoulders, but you don’t push. He’s told you so much already tonight, it’s ok if he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

You don’t need to know all of his secrets to know that he trusts you.

And that he cares about you. 

A soft sigh floats through the modulator, black visor turning to look at you. “Maybe. Or it could have to do with his powers.”

“Powers?” The word comes too loud in your surprise and you bite your lip. 

Kriff. Get a hold of yourself. 

Yeah ok sure. But powers?

He leans back against the wall opposite you. “He can lift things with his mind, heal injuries. Maybe other things, I’m not sure.”

Frowning, you sift through memories as they surface. “Huh. Like a Jedi?”

“You know about Jedi?”

His tone is almost incredulous, and you look at him, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t? Sure, the Empire tried to stamp out any and all record of them but the Imps couldn’t get to every cantina in every backwater planet. Stories about the Jedi are favourites, there - some might even be true. Though the one about a Jedi defeating the Emperor always gave me a laugh.”

The helmet tilts in amusement but quickly straightens to seriousness again, black visor turning to look at the kid. “I’ve seen them. His powers. He healed Karga, pulled poison right out of the wound and closed it over.”

Suddenly, a chill of understanding pours down your back, making your heart skip a beat with its intensity. “That’s why the Imps want him. He’s a Jedi.” 

Mando folds his arms across his chest, his voice dropping to a soft murmur full of memories. “When I took him back from the Imps, they were doing tests on him. Something with his blood.”

A kind of sharp protectiveness tenses your muscles at the thought of anyone harming the kid, mixed with anger and disgust. “I’ve also heard stories of the Empire’s experiments. He’s lucky you were the one who found him. At least you can protect him.”

“The Jedi can protect him better than I can. And train him, help him use his powers.”

You scoff, corner of your mouth crooking up in a smile. “You know where to find the Jedi? That’s probably more valuable information than the bounty on the kid.”

“Karga gave me a lead. That’s where we’re going now.” The black visor stays steady on the kid, his frame held by some strained tenseness, like he’s… 

Trying not to look at you. 

Why - 

No. No no no -

Dread clutches your throat with an ice-cold grip. Somehow your voice squeezes past it. “You’re going to give him to the Jedi.”

Your heartbeat thumps loud in your ears, once, before he answers. 

“Yes.”

Your lungs are screaming for air, but you can’t focus enough to breathe, every part of your mind reverberating with the sound of that single word. 

A flash of light, then more, memories flickering across your vision - all of them containing soft coos and bright squeals and tiny claws curling around your fingers and a helpless little form in a baggy robe and big, amber eyes watching you with affection reflected in their bottomless depths.

Not even hours ago, you had finally accepted that this is where you truly wanted to be, for as long as you could. 

Right here, watching the kid sleep peacefully, Mando by your side. 

Your stomach turns, hot and sick as you watch it all shatter into a million pieces. 

It takes a moment to realize you’re moving, legs striding away from the bunk and across the hold, away from the sight of that one thing you had so recently decided you wanted and would soon have torn away from you - 

I thought you weren’t going to run any more -

Shut up -

The refresher door slides open - when did you get here - and you step inside, hand fumbling with the locking mechanism as your vision blurs and you can’t see, where is the damn thing -

Worn leather grasps your fingers, stilling them. 

“Tionas.”

A shuddering breath wracks your chest, and you cling to his hand, pulling him in, needing his strong, steady frame to hang on to as the room dips and turns. 

Silver and black flash across your vision, soft modulated words pierce through the rush of blood in your ears. 

“Hey. Just breathe. You’re ok. It’s going to be ok.”. 

Your arms curl over his shoulders and you sink into his embrace, tucking your nose into his cowl, breathing in the scent of him. His hands glide steadily up and down your back, coaxing your heartbeat to fall into rhythm with their motion, keeping you close. 

It’s a little surprising, how quickly the anxiety melts away, like this.

But guilt quickly swoops in the replace it, pouring from you with rushed words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t - I don’t have any right to be this upset, he’s been with you so much longer, I shouldn’t -“

“Stop.” The word is gentle despite itself. “He cares for you, too. This won’t be easy, on any of us.”

You can almost feel the pain in his voice, an echo of the sharp tightness underneath your ribcage. 

Loss already experienced. And loss not yet felt. 

It’s all too much, these last few days have been too much pain and not enough -

The ache in your core flares to life, reminding you of the muscle twinges you’d felt all day, sore in the most pleasant of ways after last night. 

Last night. 

When the man in front of you had pulled you apart and made you forget everything except him, him and you and the pleasure your bodies created when brought together. 

The surge of want that shoots through your body almost shoves you into action, hands twitching with the desire to grasp at him, slip under his layers, feel him -

Boundaries. Respect his creed. 

Breathing deep to recenter your focus, you press closer to him, nosing into the curve of his neck as your hands drifts down his sides. “I need you. Please? Can I have you?”

He pulls away quickly and for a moment you panic, anxiety bursting back to life - too much too far shouldn’t have -

Then he’s reaching back, pressing the locking mechanism for the door and hitting the light switch in one movement, and there’s a flash of silver as his hands grab his helmet just before the door slides shut and the room is pitched into darkness and there -

His lips are on yours, breath hitching against your cheek when your hands grasp at his flightsuit, tugging with an insistence you can’t hold back, the arousal pooling between your thighs fuzzing the edges of rational thought. 

He cups your face with both hands, gloves warm and soft on rapidly heating skin, lips moving over yours with some kind of desperation before pulling back just enough to murmur into your gasping mouth. “Say it again.”

Oh pfassk -

That bare, rasping voice - so much more thrilling than your memory serves, full of a delicious blend of demand and plea, curls into the heat of your arousal. 

Your own voice is already breaking, cracking in your throat tight with want. “I need you. Please.”

He groans, a wordless reply that catches on your tongue as his mouth takes yours again.

It’s an onslaught, a needy push-pull that has you backing up against the refresher wall for balance while his solid form molds to yours, his large hands cup your jaw and his lips steal the breath from your lungs. 

His hands suddenly disappear and you whimper at the loss, your own sliding around his lower back and gripping tight to the fabric of his flightsuit to keep him close, not let any other part of him slip away. 

There’s a soft slap-slap - his gloves hitting the floor - then his hands are back on you, warm skin and smooth callouses and long fingers that hold your head steady while he kisses deeper, pulling a rush of heat between your thighs and a moan from your chest. 

The end of the sound echoes through the refresher as his mouth leaves yours to run along your cheek, press to your ear. “Thought about those all day, back on Nevarro. Those pretty sounds you make.”

His hand tilts your head back, teeth scraping along your ear lobe, his breath warm as he hums in approval of your answering whine. “Had to keep quiet there - still do, kid’s not far. But I keep thinking about what sounds you’d make for me if you didn’t have to stay quiet.”

A hot pulse of pleasure makes your thighs squeeze tight - pfassk, it’s so hot, the low rumble of his voice, dripping with innuendo, and oh kriff his free hand is grasping your thigh, big and warm and strong and it hauls your leg up to curl around his hip and glides along the inner seam of your leggings to -

Your hands fly to the edge of his breastplate, gripping tight against the dizzying rush of pleasure as his fingers cup your already-throbbing cunt through your leggings.

His lips are back on yours, a soft moan vibrating against your mouth. “Fuck, feel you, already so wet and warm -“

Your hips rock into his palm, his fingers press over your entrance, words panting hot. “For you, please, need you -“

Words dissolve from your thoughts as his hand moves, sliding under the waistband of your leggings and underwear and diving between your thighs, long fingers slipping through your folds. Calloused fingertips catch on your clit and your breath stutters, chokes, hips rocking messily into the pressure he immediately applies, head falling back against the wall with a thunk, pleasure sparking over your body. 

He presses open-mouthed kisses down your throat as his fingers take up a steady rhythm, words falling against your too-warm skin in a rush. “Can’t stop thinking about laying you out in a real bed, a big one, soft, so you can be comfortable in every position I put you in. And pulling those sounds from you, as loud as you want to make them.”

Images flash across your hazy thoughts, pictures painted by his words - a plush mattress under your body, soft sheets that crumple between your fingers when you clutch at them desperately while he fucks his cock deep into your cunt. 

Heat spirals through your core like a whirlwind of fire, making you shudder at the intensity, and you bite your lip hard to stop the cry that builds in the back of your throat. His hand suddenly shifts and the cry pushes loose, bounces around the tiny room as two long, thick fingers breach your entrance, shoving deep. 

His free hand presses over your mouth, his groan buzzes against your pulse. “Want you to come for me.”

You barely manage a frantic nod in agreement - kriff yes please - before his fingers are slipping out of your pussy and back in again, slick sound telling of how wet you are. 

Oh pfassk that’s so good -

Again and again they thrust at just the perfect -

Your entire body trembles, bright burst of pleasure pulsing the walls of your cunt as his fingertips graze a spot you’ve never felt before, startled moan muffled by his broad palm. 

His chuckle murmurs over your skin, shivers down your spine. “Right there, cyar’ika?”

A quick thrust and his fingertips curl and press and -

Once twice again -

Your orgasm rushes through your body, trembles your thighs, yanks the breath from your lungs. 

It’s so hot and blinding and -

His teeth nip at your throat and his moan dances over your skin as your cunt clutches his fingers hard, slick gushing around them. “Yes, come for me, fuck feel this pussy so tight -“

Then there’s the release and you gasp for air, grabbing at his shoulders, leg falling from his hip, your muscles shivering with aftershocks. 

Sliding his fingers from your cunt, he removes his hand from your mouth to kiss you deep, tongue flicking over yours. Your core throbs again, pleasure flaring once more at the press of his hard cock through his clothing. 

Your hands flex, burning with a need, an overwhelming desire to touch, and you have to clench your hands into fists to stop them.

Boundaries. Respect his boundaries. 

Pulling back enough to mouth along his jaw, you hum at the pleasant scratch of his scruff on your kiss-swollen lips. “Can I touch you?”

His hands grasp your waist, clutching as if he needs to steady himself. The sound of his ragged breath makes you pause. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. It’s ok -“

“Yes.”

The sharp, desperate hiss of his voice shoots right to your pussy. 

Crikking hells, this man is going to ruin you for anyone else. 

Pressing a kiss of gratitude to the underside of his jaw, you trail your hands down his chest, beskar cool under your fingertips. Then there’s the abdomen plate, the belt, the coarse weave of the flightsuit -

Your cunt clenches with need as your hand curves over the hard length of his cock through the fabric. 

For a split second you debate on just begging him to fuck you so you can get that cock inside you where you want it, but then his hips rock forward, his fingers dig into the softness of your waist, his forehead falls to your shoulder and yes you want this, want him to come apart in your arms. 

Your fingers fumble with the fly, find the opening and slip inside. 

His moan shudders over your collarbone as you push past the thin cloth of his underclothes and find bare skin and him -

Oh kriff. 

His cock is deliciously thick and warm and heavy in your hand, skin smooth and soft, stretched tight and hot and he’s so hard, pulsing against your palm. 

Your own breath stutters, lips turning to his curls at your cheek. “You feel so good, let me make you feel good, ok?”

His groan is sharp in your ear as your hand curls around him and strokes up. Moisture beads at the tip and you twist your palm over it, smearing it down his length. 

He trembles hard, a hand leaving your waist to smack against the wall by your head. “Fuck, just like that -“

His voice rasps over your skin, low and rough with pleasure, straight to your core and your clit actually throbs with need, thighs pressing together for the tiniest bit of friction. With a long stroke and a smooth turn of your wrist, you pull more moisture from the head and a whimper from his chest. 

It’s so hot, feeling him pulse in your hand and hearing him moan in your ear and knowing it’s you making him feel this good. 

You want more, want to feel and hear more of him.

Again and again, you slide your grip along the length of his cock, sounds falling from him setting your body alight. 

Your free hand dives into his hair, nails scratching lightly, earning you a shiver and a sharp thrust into your grip. Arousal burns across your thoughts, words tumbling from your lips. “Come on, give it to me. You love the sounds I make? Kriff, I could listen to your pleasure, your voice, forever, come on wanna hear you fall apart.”

His hips roll into your grasp, fingers scrape over your waist, groan buzzes against your neck.

Turning your face toward him, you dip down to find his ear. “Your cock feels so good in my hand, in my pussy - wanna taste you so bad, feel this cock in my mouth, taste your come on my tongue -”

Suddenly his hand is gripping your jaw, thumb and fingers framing your chin to hold you still as he kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping when he pulls away.

He growls against your parted lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve imagined that, how many times I’ve fucked my fist in this very room thinking about you -“

Want overwhelms your senses and you’re surging forward before you know it, swallowing his words. He chokes out a whimper that you chase with your tongue, firmly gliding along his in sync with the rhythm of your hand - 

Showing him what you would do if it were his cock instead.

He pulls back sharply, leaving you gasping, then he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand out of his flightsuit to press it against the wall by your head. “Gonna make me come like that.”

You huff a laugh, fluttery with need. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

Humming low in his throat, he grasps your free hand and presses it to the wall like your other one. “I want to fuck you first. Make you come so hard that tongue of yours falls silent again.”

A thrill of anticipation laced with arousal ripples down your spine at his words - and at the strength buzzing in his grip, underneath the surface of restraint but still there. 

It’s a foreign sensation, being held like this, pinned to the wall by someone with the ability to overpower you. You’ve never liked being restrained, for pleasure or otherwise. But this…

This is him, and he spills blood to protect you and holds you gently when you’re spiraling and pushes aside his own pleasure for yours. 

Somehow that makes it so much more. 

Arching your hips against his, you lean in to nip at his jaw, murmur over his skin. “Then do it.”

Your wrists are suddenly free, but you don’t have the time to wonder at the tiny dip of disappointment that skitters through your stomach because he’s yanking your leggings and underwear down your legs in one rough motion. You start to toe off your boots but he’s already spinning you around, pressing you against the wall, holding you steady as your steps falters, unbalanced, leggings and underwear tight around your thighs. 

His hands pull your hips back, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your ass, and you only get a moment to set your palms against the wall, bracing yourself, before the head of his cock is slipping between your slick folds. 

Your forehead falls against the wall, cool durasteel on too-warm skin. “Oh pfassk yes -“

He pushes in, deep groan echoing around the refresher as his cock sinks into the warm clutch of your cunt, voice choking off into a slew of Mandalorian words when you squeeze your walls around him, instinctively trying to pull him deeper, faster. 

It’s a thick press of pleasure, his cock shoving into your core, with your thighs tight together he feels so kriffing big, pushing into all the perfect places so your eyes roll back and a shaky whine bounces off the wall in front of your mouth. 

Then he’s pulling back, slowly, dragging his cock through your pulsing heat until just the head sits snug inside your entrance, and you feel so devastatingly empty, only having just been filled by him but instantly wanting him back. 

He leans in close, lips brushing over your ear. “Say it again.”

Your thoughts churn sluggishly through the haze of arousal, piecing back through the previous moments to when this had all started. There, that’s what he wants. “I need you. Please.”

His hips slam forward and his cock fills you to the brim. A strangled cry punches from your chest, and his hand slides over your mouth once more, muffling the next cry as he draws back to shove forward again. “So pretty when you beg, cyar’ika.”

The rhythm he takes up is sharp and quick, almost brutal, offset by the gentle grip of his hand over your mouth and the line of kisses he places down the curve of your neck. The contrast reels through your senses, heartbeat pounding to the time of his thrusts, pulls your orgasm to the forefront, sends a rush of slick down the length of his cock. 

He noses along the corner of your jaw, words punctuating by the force of his movements. “Fuck, this cunt, so tight and wet - listen, can you hear it? Can you hear your pussy crying for my cock?”

The wet sounds of where your bodies join drifts through the haze and your gasping breaths - you’re absolutely soaked, now you notice the hot lines of slick running down your inner thighs, glide of his cock pulling more from your cunt, the way your legs are pressed tight together meaning there’s no where else for it to go. 

It’s unbearably hot, hearing how much your body wants him while feeling the drive of his cock through your core. Pleasure spirals up and up, your clit is aching for friction but you can’t move, hands pressed tight to the wall to hold yourself steady, and then the hand on your hip shifts, tilts you backward just a little, and the head of his cock slams into that spot he found earlier and white bursts at the corners of your vision, light in the pitch-dark of the room as he draws back and does it again, and again and again -

You’re coming so hard you can’t see or hear or -

Legs shaking toes curling in your boots fingernails scrabbling at the wall -

There’s wet heat and the drop and you’re shouting into his broad palm, knees finally giving out and you start to slump forward but the hand on your hip shifts quickly, arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up -

Crikking hells he’s still fucking you -

The sounds are obscene now, his cock shoving through sopping wet folds, each thrust ending with a smack of soaked fabric against your bare ass, his deep grunts mingling with your weak keening whine. 

You’re floating, practically unaware of anything but the pleasure radiating from your pussy, bordering on too much yet somehow not enough.

His voice is in your ear, his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. “Fucking perfect, ner kotyc dala, take my cock so well, say it again for me -“

He bites into the curve of your neck and you cry out, shudder hard, knees shaking with the effort to stay upright. His hand on your mouth falls away but you can’t find words, can’t form them on your tongue, only rasping whimpers that sound like they’re coming from someone else far away. 

His huff of laughter is thick with his own pleasure, brushing your cheek as his hand curves around your throat. “There you go, lost your words again. It’s ok, mesh’la, don’t think, just feel.”

Then the hand on your waist slips between your thighs and a fingertip grazes your clit and shocks of pleasure rip through your body, arching your back into his thrusts, high-pitched moan caught in your throat by the warm weight of his hand. 

He picks up his pace, fingertips pressing tight circles over your clit over and over in time with the short, hard thrusts of his cock that slam right against that spot and you’re coming again -

Hot wet full tight yes -

His growl vibrates over your shivering skin, sharp with a note of something almost like pain, cock pulsing hard against your fluttering walls and heat floods your core, seeps out around the thick of him with each thrust, drips down your thighs. 

Your pleasure finally releases you just as he sinks deep and stills, arm banded around your hips to keep you there, hand gentle but firm on your throat. 

A few moments pass, your breath still fast and sharp, exhausted limbs screaming for oxygen, constant shiver running through them.

Then his lips gently glide over the soft spot behind your ear, fingers on your jaw turning your face toward his, and you slump back into his arms as his mouth captures yours in a kiss that shakes with the last remaining aftershocks of your orgasm. 

His cock twitches once, twice, still deep inside you, pulling your focus back into the moment, and slowly your senses drift into place.

The air in the room is hot, the scent of sex clinging to your skin with the damp. His arm is strong and firm around your hips, his hand on your throat shifting to cup your jaw as he deepens the kiss. The chill of his armour seeps through your shirt, the rough weave of his flightsuit presses against your ass -

Why am I so wet?

Panic floods your system and you reel with the shift.

Wait no it’s -

Oh pfassk. 

He pulls back, concern obvious in his voice. “You ok?”

Amusement and wonder mingle with the haze of spent pleasure. “I’ve never done that before.”

A pause, then he’s sliding his hand down between your thighs, running his fingertips through the evidence of your intense orgasm. “Did it feel good?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Incredulity seeps into of your voice but you can’t bring yourself to care, no matter how strange it sounds in the soft hush of the room and the pleasure haze still floating around the two of you. 

His chest vibrates with silent laughter, lips curved in a smile as he kisses you. “Then I can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Male pride is heavy in his voice and you can’t stop the snort of laughter, knowing it’s definitely inappropriate for the moment but when he joins you, breath bouncing off the curve of your neck as he nuzzles into it and wraps both arms tight around you, it doesn’t seem so jarring. 

You stay like that, catching your breath, simply existing in his embrace, the feel of his stubble on your skin where his lips press, the twitch of his cock still buried inside you. 

The memory of your conversation earlier that night flickers on the outskirts of your thoughts, the pain in his voice as he told you how he’d found the kid. So different from his voice now, sated but light with contentment, maybe even something close to happiness. 

Your heartbeat skitters, the warm bright thing in your chest glowing.

Tilting your head to rest your cheek against his curls, you slide your arms over his, squeezing them around your body. “I meant it. You’re a good person, and you’ll always do the right thing, no matter how difficult it is.”

A faint tremor runs through his frame, followed by a sigh that ghosts over your collarbone. His voice is so soft, but it still reverberates through your thoughts. “Nothing is too difficult, with you by my side.”

Your throat closes with emotion. There are no words that convey what you’re feeling, and all you can do is nod once, letting him feel the movement against his hair.

I know. Same.

***** Mando’a translations

mesh’la - beautiful

cyar’ika - sweetheart

tionas - a question

ner kotyc dala - my strong woman

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[purplesong1028]

Hunt the Hunter

Chapter 2: The Twins

Paz and Din each prepares for their journey ahead, while thinking about their best friend with a very special ability.

AKA. I chose to make my life harder by but making Paz and Din childhood friends with each other.

Rating: General Audience

Paring: Paz/Din

Words: 2,609

Paz wakes up early the next morning to the noise outside. Everyone is walking around, moving stuff, talking to each other with mixed Mando’a and Galactic Basic. He wakes up early anyway, because it’s important to maintain a daily routine underground. At this point, his body has already developed an accurate biological clock after spending years without natural sunlight, which is how he knows this is even earlier than when he usually wakes up. If he has to guess, the sun is probably not even out yet.

Paz blinks a few times and wipes a hand down his face. Then he remembers: they have to move the covert before the Imps track down the mandalorian hunter who disrupted the entire guild. He silently curses Djarin again. The bastard better be prepared when Paz finds him.

It doesn’t take long for him to get up and get ready. None of them has a lengthy morning routine. Then he packs some necessities into a large bag: weapons, common spare parts, ration packs, credits, and some medical supplies including a full can of bacta spray. He checks the four small pieces of pure beskar the armorer gave him yesterday, and carefully puts them in a pocket. The pocket is deep and spacious, but he can still feel their existence against his leg when he starts walking.

*

Paz receives a few nods as he walks outside carrying his luggage. Most people are too busy for any other gestures, but a few people he’s closer with give him a pat on the shoulder and a “good luck”. They don’t need to say anything else. Mandalorians are people of action, and they always know the weight behind the simple words spoken by their brothers and sisters.

However, there is one person he has to see before leaving for his quest.

After a few turns, the tunnel opens up to a large flat area, which they use as their training camp. Foundlings are running around carrying boxes of supplies, to get them ready for transportation. Some of them briefly stop in front of the two adults standing among them, seeking instruction or comfort.

Paz smiles at the scene. Every mandalorian will do anything for their foundlings, but it takes a special kind of talent to get a group of small children and teenagers to work together seamlessly. Luckily, some of them have that talent.

*

Syina and her twin brother Mylo look no different from any other human, but there is one thing that sets them apart: they can sense emotions.

When they are physically close enough, they can feel exactly what you feel.

There is little record left of their species, so it’s uncertain why they’re empaths, but regardless, their special ability makes them the best mentors for the foundlings.

It also made Syina the perfect friend for Paz since they were children. Back then, most kids in the fighting corps were at least a little scared of him. Maybe it had something to do with his size, his temper or his family name, or a combination of all those. But Syina, a few years younger and much smaller, was never afraid.

She would seek him out after training and ask him to go over some complicated moves with her, to tell her stories about mandalorian history, or even to teach her to use a weapon that she was too young to touch.

“Sometimes you are just in a bad mood,” She once told him, “but you don’t want to hurt me, I can feel it. You are a kind person.”

Over the years, it became a clear pattern: if Syina wasn’t with Mylo, she was most likely hanging out with him. Some elderlies in the covert assumed they would start courting once they grow up, and even encouraged him to do so, but he never felt that kind of desire towards her. It was just nice to have someone trust him, both in his skills and his character as a mandalorian. If anything, he saw her more as a little sister than a future wife.

Paz understood why he might have given off the wrong idea though. The twins were strikingly similar in every way, but he was much closer to the girl. But it wasn’t because he liked Mylo any less. It was just inconvenient for them to hang out because Mylo had always been very close to Djarin. How these two became friends, Paz had no idea, still doesn’t.

Honestly, it was a bit funny that a pair of twins somehow ended up being friends with two people who could hardly coexist in the same room.

*

“Paz!” Syina notices him first, not hiding her excitement as she gives him a solid pat on the arm, right below his pauldron so it actually hurts a little. “I thought you already left!”

“Without saying goodbye to you?” He snorts, “you’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“That was what I told her.” Mylo also walks towards them, pulling Paz in for a brief half-hug. “All ready for your big quest?”

He smiles at the friendly teasing tone. “Yeah, I’m good. Are the young ones ready?”

“They’re not very happy with the short notice, understandably.” Syina shrugs, “but we got them, there’s no need to worry.”

That’s true. If Paz has to trust anyone with all the foundlings, he trusts them.

“Look, Paz,” Mylo starts again, and Paz already knows what he’s about to say, “Din didn’t betray us. There’s no way. Something we don’t know must have happened.”

“That’s not up to me to judge.” He tries to remain as impartial as he can at the moment, since that’s what the armorer wants him to do. “My quest is to bring him back. That’s all.”

“What he’s saying is that, obviously Djarin won’t let you bring him back without a fight.” Syina cuts in. She’s always been more blunt than her brother, at least with him. “And you have a plasma thrower.”

“Yeah, what she said. Just don’t kill him, alright?”

“And on that note, don’t let him kill you either.”

Maybe that’s not a joke on their end, but Paz laughs out regardless. Sometimes he has a weird sense of humor.

He turns back to Mylo, “have you heard from him? Any idea where he might be?” If anyone in the covert has additional information on Djarin, it’d be Mylo, and Paz truly hopes he won’t hide anything.

“I don’t know. I tried to call him yesterday, after we got the news about a mandalorian blowing up a building in an alley. He didn’t answer, so I sent a message to his ship.” Mylo looks down for a second, and Paz doesn’t need to be an empath to know that look. Guilt, for not doing more, even after they’ve done everything they possibly can. “Then the armorer ordered everyone to prepare for relocation, so we had to change all the comlinks.”

“I’ll find him.” Paz grabs his shoulder and gives him a solid shake. “If he’s in trouble, I’ll bring him back home.”

“You know, at first I thought the armorer was going to send Mylo, but maybe she had a good reason to choose you.” Syina tilts her head, and Paz just knows she’s smirking under her helmet. “What’s that saying again? You know your enemy the best? Something like that.”

“We’re not enemies.” Enemy is a strong word. The Imps are the enemy. Djarin isn’t, as long as he’s not working for the Imps.

“Rivals then, still, my point stands.”

“Well, I certainly hope you’re right then.” Paz smiles. He knows she can’t see it but she sure can feel it with her powers. Behind them, the foundlings are finishing up stacking boxes of supply neatly together. “I should let you two get back to it. I need to get going too.”

Mylo nods. “Good luck on your quest, Paz.”

Syina reaches over to pull him into a tight embrace. “Cuyir morut'yc.” Be safe.

*

Din sinks into the pilot chair. He just spent almost an hour trying to make the freaking kid fall asleep. He tried everything: he fed him, cleaned his clothes with sonic, spoke to him softly while gently rocking him. That eventually worked, or maybe the kid just tired himself out. Either way, now he’s more than ready to take a nap himself.

But he can’t do that just yet. There are more pressing matters to be taken care of. He made himself a suspect of treason, which is never dealt with lightly. By creed, he is to be brought in front of his vods and questioned by the armorer. He is more than willing to explain himself. After all, he didn’t mean to keep the beskar for himself. It was just a lapse of judgment under crisis, a stupid misunderstanding. The thing is, with both the Imps and the guild hunting him, the last thing he needs is to bring his troubles back to the covert, so as much as he wants to go home and clear his name, he can’t.

Of course, Din tried to contact the covert yesterday as soon as he realized what he had done. There was already a message from Mylo waiting for him, but when he called back no one answered. Then he tried the armorer’s comlink, and that didn’t go through either.

Is he casted out already? Did they make the decision without even giving him a trail?

The mere thought of that brings a dull soreness to his chest, but he quickly gathers his thoughts, and realizes that’s not possible.

Everything they do, they follow the creed. If the creed says he needs to be questioned, someone will track him down and bring him back. It’s more likely that the covert had to reset their comlinks as a security measure. Maybe he should do that for Razor Crest too. It’s difficult to track someone with only a comlink, but it’s always better safe than sorry. Din makes a mental note to get right on that as soon as he lands on the next planet.

Right now, the important question is: who’s coming?

*

Din thinks about everyone at the covert. It has to be someone who’s capable enough to take him down.

Would it be Mylo? It would make sense. His ability to detect emotions gives him a great advantage in tracking when used wisely. Mylo actually came as a close second in the contest to select the new beroya. That was about two decades ago, but he has faith in his friend. Besides himself, Mylo is likely still the best hunter out of everyone else.

Din really hopes it will be Mylo. That would solve the problem instantly. He can just explain what happened and why he can’t return, then ask his friend to bring the beskar back home to the foundlings.

But with his luck, that’s probably too good to be true. Always prepare for the worst. That’s one of the golden rules to survive in this galaxy.

Still, he can’t help but hope. Chances are he’s going to be on the run for a very long time. Maybe he can never go home again. It would be nice to see his only friend one last time.

*

Mandalorians don’t make friends easily.

Din had learned that a few months after he was brought to the fighting corp. They were taught to always be loyal and have each other’s backs, and even die for each other in battles, because they would grow up to be warriors, because that was their creed.

But that wasn’t what friends were, right? Not like his friends back home, where they would sneak out and run around doing silly things, like laughing at some weird insects.

He didn’t mind it though. He didn’t feel like talking to people most of the time anyway. It was easier to focus on his training. Training was straightforward. It was clear which moves were right and which ones were wrong, what attacks worked on his opponents and what didn’t.

Seeing his own improvements made him feel good. His body was aching, but his heart felt safe.

Mylo approached him one day when he was icing a bruise on his forearm after a sparring session.

“Wow, that’s a big one.” The red-haired boy sat down on the floor next to him. “Sorry about that.”

Din shot him a confused look. They didn’t need to apologize for hurting their opponent during those exercises. Mylo beat him in fair combat, so there wasn’t anything to be sorry for.

“So you’re not talking, but you’re also not mad. Wait, you know I can tell you’re not mad, right?”

“I’ve heard people talking about it. You and your sister can…feel people.”

“That’s a really weird way to put it, but sure.” Mylo shrugged. “I went pretty hard on you earlier, when you felt it I kind of felt it too, so just wanted to check if you’re all good.”

“You can feel others' pain too?”

“In a way?” Mylo made some vague gestures. “Not physically, but people feel things in their heads too, when they’re in pain. It’s hard to explain.”

Now Din was completely confused. “What things?”

“I just said it was hard to explain.”

They stared at each other silently for a few seconds. He wondered if Mylo could feel the awkwardness.

“Anyway, if I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Mylo nodded at his bruised arm, “do you want to pair up again tomorrow?”

He removed the ice pack from his now numb arm and put it down on the floor. “Why? You won earlier. You should fight someone stronger next time.”

“The way I see it, you’re a lot smaller than me but you gave me one of the toughest fights.” Mylo kicked the dripping ice pack out of the way as the water got to his shoe. “You’re faster than almost everyone else and you always know where to hit. You just need to build your strength up, and you’ll be one of the best fighters around here.”

*

They didn’t sneak out or do silly things…no, actually they snuck out twice and almost got caught the second time. But they grew to become friends. They sparred with each other, ate together before they got their helmets, and gossiped. Thanks to Mylo’s power, he always had the best gossip.

Din wondered where Mylo and Syina got their empath abilities, but nobody really knew. The twins were brought here when they were babies, and they looked human. Their buir, the medic, noticed their special abilities as they grew up. That was as much as everyone knew.

He also tried to look for leads over the years as he made his way through the galaxy, but to most people, their kind was unheard of. From what he could gather, they were a small civilization of highly intelligent and peaceful people, but a series of catastrophic natural disasters deemed their planet inhabitable.

*

Din looks over at the tiny bundle of green on the co-pilot seat, peacefully asleep. Whatever this child is, Din hasn’t seen anything like him. What if he’s the last survivor of his kind? What is it like to have no one know what you are, and where you come from?

Din slowly exhales, shaking himself out of the sudden urge of sorrow. This is not the time. Survive first, and everything else can come later.

He checks the panel. Only 30 minutes remain until they can jump out of hyperspace. He needs something for his journey ahead, and he knows exactly where to get it.

@vanishedangels @mandaloria314 @theydjarin @cheesybadgers @artemiseamoon @anunhealthydoseofangst @hausofmamadas @bellinitini @ohyousillything (Let me know if you want to be added or taken of the tag list.)

[kalinara]

Wild Mandalorian Theory/Speculation time:

Is Ragnar Vizsla a replacement Din Djarin?

Like...on purpose, I mean.

I mean, you see the similarities too, don’t you?  We had the helmet ceremony in the first episode, which I actually assumed was a flashback until Din himself showed up.

There’s something similar about the attitude as well, isn’t there?  I can’t really put my finger on it, but something about the way the kid was when Din made him socialize with Grogu.  That attitude.  And then of course the kid gets fucking eaten.  Because he would.

The kid doesn’t seem to know Din personally.  And Din seemed surprised when Paz said this was his son.  When we saw Paz with the Armorer in Book of Boba Fett, he didn’t seem to have a kid with him.  

Now, there’s that recent reveal that Grogu studied with Luke for two years.  Folks have commented that this didn’t make sense.  Why would it take Din so long to find his covert?

...but I’m wondering now if maybe that scene with Din, Paz and the Armorer took place much earlier than the scene where Din goes to Tatooine and then to find Grogu.  How long would it have taken Din to find the Jedi “temple”?

It’d be a lot harder to find a temple than a covert, right?  When the temple is made up of one person whose name you don’t even know?  At least, with the covert, Din has some idea of what his people would look for and what they’d need.  Where would you even start to find a single Jedi and a baby?

It COULD maybe take two years, right?

We’ve talked before about Din’s very very weird mix of knowledge and ignorance, and particularly his bizarre gaps when it comes to the Mandalorians themselves.  

He knows the creed, the “Ancient Ways of Mandalore” by heart, and seems to truly embody all of that stuff.  But he knows jack shit about anything that Mandalorians really SHOULD know: Bo-Katan, the Darksaber, that there are Mandalorians who take off their helmet.  I can only imagine the blank stare we’d get if anyone tried to tell him about Satine...

But it doesn’t seem uniform to the covert, does it?  Paz Viszla knows about the darksaber at least.  He knows what Nite Owls are, who Bo-Katan and her clan are.  The people with him don’t seem shocked.

It’s ONLY Din Djarin who doesn’t know.  And that’s really fucking weird, isn’t it?  Din isn’t stupid or oblivious.  He learns and adapts quickly.  It doesn’t seem likely that he slept through every history lesson.

So what the fuck?

But let’s say for a moment that this awesome theory is true.  Let’s say for a moment that Din is some kind of social experiment to create an Ur-Mandalorian.  It can’t have been easy to keep him ignorant for so long.  And how aghast would the Armorer (and maybe Paz Viszla?) have been when he went apostate?

When Din appears at the covert in episode one, they shun him, but there’s no “we JUST kicked you out!” type of reaction.  It definitely seems as though a significant amount of time had past.  Long enough for Din to find evidence that the planet was not completely poisonous.

It’s long enough for the covert to get established in their new home.  Long enough...to find a new foundling and trying the same experiment again?  Maybe with a little more direct, fatherly, supervision?  

And a very recognizable name...

[hotcocoaandstripedsweaters]

OC-tober Day 10: Kisser in a different time period

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

Once again, this has run long--longer even than the last one--so it's under a read more. I just couldn't resist writing a cute little fic cliché with everyone's favorite womp rat.

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

Din Djarin has gotten used to rolling with the weird stuff that comes from having a Force Sensitive kid.

Well, he certainly likes to think so, anyway.

Right up until his kid triggers a lightshow in some old ruins and a young Boba Fett falls out in unfamiliar armor.

“Karking shit hells,” Boba groans, face down on the stone floor.

Din has to agree.

Grogu burbles happily, slapping at the symbol he’d touched on the wall. Fortunately, there are no more light shows.

Boba looks Grogu and smiles, lighter and freer than Din has ever seen. “What’s a tubie like you doing out of the creche?” he asks as he sits up.

Grogu babbles happily, toddling over to Boba and gesturing at Din. Boba almost dismisses him, then does a double take.

“Heyyyyy, Mando,” he draws out the greeting uncertainly, in a distinctly un-Boba-like fashion.

“Fett,” Din greets.

Boba tilts his head in confusion, even as he holds a hand out to Grogu–palm open, relaxed, and not poised to grab. “Sorry, you got the wrong guy. Name’s Kisser.”

It’s Din’s turn to tilt his head. Grogu babbles and slaps at the proffered hand happily.

“Buuur,” Grogu coos.

“Yeah, your buir’s got me mixed up with someone,” Kisser says, nonchalant despite not taking his eyes off Din. “Why’d you bring me here, youngling? Need some help?”

“He likes old Temples,” Din says, as if that explains anything.

Kisser glances around. “Ah, Force Nonsense.”

“You’re familiar with Jedi magic?” Din’s surprised. He doesn’t know many people who sound so confident when it comes to Grogu’s magic.

Kisser laughs and confirms, “Yeah, enough to know most of them will reflexively tell you it isn’t magic. Why? You need one?”

Din shakes his head. “The kid chose to stay with me, rather than his teacher.”

“Aww,” Kisser coos, turning to Grogu, “You really love your buir, huh?”

Grogu shrieks happily, tugging Kisser’s fingers as though to pull him closer to Din.

“Kid,” Din scolds, “Give him a minute.”

“Nahhh, it’s alright,” Kisser waves off Din’s protest, standing in a crouch so that Grogu can drag him over to Din. When Grogu lets go of his fingers in favor of clinging to Din’s shin, Kisser stands. He’s a little taller than Boba is, and younger. He doesn’t have the same scars, and his attitude is completely different as he smiles at Din. “Seems like your kid wants me to meet you properly.”

“Seems so.”

“Think I can head back the way I came?”

“Probably not.”

Kisser sighs, “Thought you might say that.” He opens a panel in his vambrace and taps at some kind of navigation unit. “Looks like we’re out in Mandospace too. You don’t happen to be on good terms with Kryze, by any chance?”

Din shrugs, “We didn’t part on good terms. You know her?”

“Not personally,” Kisser says casually, “But I heard a rumor my General was pretty close with her once upon a time. Thought she might be able to get a call out to him.”

“I got comms on my ship,” Din offers slowly.

Kisser looks up from his nav in surprise. “You sure?”

“Why not?” Din counters, curious.

“Mandalorians don’t like Jedi and Mandalorians don’t like Vode,” Kisser says, confident as though he’s listing simple truths of the universe. “Figured with a kid on board, you wouldn’t want me there.”

Grogu makes an affronted noise and starts crawling up Din’s leg. He snorts and picks up the little womp rat.

“There are a lot of different kinds of Mandalorians,” he says, as though he has always known this and it isn’t at all a recent revelation. He turns to lead the way to his ship.

“You know Jango Fett,” Kisser protests, even as he keeps pace. His tone is light, but the way he glances around for another exit betrays his hesitation.

“Don’t know a Jango,” Din corrects him, “Just Boba.”

Kisser looks startled, “How?”

“He took over Mos Espa on Tatooine.” Din shrugs.

“They let kids take over cities out there?”

“Kids?”

“He’s not even fourteen standard yet, is he?” Kisser protests, doing a quick count on his hands.

“He’s older than you,” Din says, baffled.

“Well yeah,” Kisser scoffs, as if it’s obvious, “But I know some Vode decanted around the same time as him, and they said he ages like a Human.”

Din eyeballs him, “And you’re not Human?”

“I’m a Vod,” Kisser eyeballs him right back. “A clone. Do you not get Republic news out here?”

“Which Republic?” Din says tiredly. There were so many ridiculous little governances since the Empire started shattering, how was he supposed to keep up?

“Which–?” Kisser splutters, coming to a stop in his shock. “The one that standardized Galactic Basic, also known as Republic Basic? The language we’re speaking?? Right now???” 

“I thought that was the Empire?” Din tries to reach back to the history lessons he got before he was adopted by the covert, but it’s too fuzzy.

“Empire?!” Kisser shrieks. Grogu makes soothing noises, a toddler’s imitation of what Din does to calm him down. His adorableness is wasted on the distracted adults. 

Din tilts his head. “They’re the largest single government in the galaxy?”

“The Republic is the largest single government in the galaxy!” Kisser says despairingly. 

They stare at each other.

“Clone like…the Clone Wars?” Din finally asks. He doesn’t really want him to answer.

Kisser, blessedly, doesn’t. “How old is Boba Fett, exactly?”

“Let’s go ask.”

The walk is tense and quiet, but they get back to the ship. When Boba answers the call, Kisser takes one look at him and is gone–armor falling to the floor, letting out a small puff of dust.

“What the hell was that, Djarin?” Boba demands.

“A Vod,” Din says, completely bewildered.

Grogu bursts into tears.

~+~

Day 11

[burnwater13]

Concept Art by Ryan Church, The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 4, The Siege

Grogu liked to pretend, when he was someplace like Nevarro City, that he was time traveling. He didn’t actually think that time travel was possible. But he did like pretending that a place that had been so forgotten and ravaged by the Empire, once had days when people were happy, everything looked brand new, and it was safe to just walk down the street and talk with your friends, the local vendors, and your neighbors. 

He could imagine the children running up and down the streets playing their games. Spill the Pins, Hide and Peek, Snag It, Bag It, Tag It, and so many others. Their grandparents and aunts and uncles would be watchings and laughing, especially at SIBITI. 

It was a very silly game. You would find something worthless to snag or take, like a stone, or a piece of wood, or even a piece of trash. Then you would put it in a bag, because you were going to give to someone. And finally you had to come up with a few funny words to write on a tag. Like ‘Rock that fell out of Ian’s head’ and you’d give it Ian so he would get his stuff back. 

The people who worked all enjoyed their work and their bosses were great people who were honored to help their people do their best and make things that everyone else wanted, remembering that they also wanted nice things. When Grogu was pretending to time travel it was important to him that people were good to each other and no one did without. No one was hungry, lonely, or lost. He’d spent too much of his life feeling those things and he never wanted anyone else to feel that way.

One of the things he enjoyed the most about his pretend time travel was imagining the city as everyone who lived there really wanted it to be. Trees that were tall and provided shade, but who’s leaves fell off in neat bundles that didn’t make a mess, but did make a great pile for jumping into. The walkways were wide and even and made it easy for everyone walk around, even the kid using the crutches because they had gotten a little too into Spill the Pins. 

If you walked down the streets with him, people would be waving at you and greeting you like you were their long lost best friend. You would do the same because it felt good to be some place you were accepted for who you were and you didn’t have to change anything about yourself, because you were good enough just as you were. 

Eventually you would arrive at the center of town and you would find the coolest building that was a park that was also a building. There were places to sit and just chat with people. There were swings, an open air theater, a water play area, gardens, arcades with all sorts of artworks, and music that was being played wherever a few people decided to meet. 

Around the perimeter of the park were food stalls and other market stalls. Need new coveralls? They have you covered, literally. Need a tool? They even have a box you can use to move it around in. Need a gift for a friend you just made? Of course there is something for you and them because SIBITI worked so well, people always got things they liked. It was so nice. 

Grogu explained this to his dad, the Mandalorian. Din Djarin agreed that it sounded very nice, but in Grogu’s pretend future or past city, no one would need bounty hunters. What kind of work would the Mandalorian do?

Grogu began to giggle. 

“Buddy, what’s so funny? Tell me in your pretend time I’m not a waiter.”

Grogu shook his head. Of course his dad wouldn’t be a server. He’d step on folks toes. He’d mix up their orders. He’d get lost in the kitchen. He wouldn’t actually want to serve them things that weren’t good for them. Grogu’s time travel city, town, what have you, was a happy place. Din Djarin couldn’t be a waiter there and be happy, so nope. Not a waiter.

He thought for a moment and then explained to his dad what he thought would be ideal. 

“An actor? Why do you think I would make a good actor, in any time? I wear a helmet all the time. People can’t see my face. They can only hear my voice and watch me move. And even my voice is muffled by the helmet.”

Grogu nodded his head at everything his dad said and then he explained that Mandalorians were ideal actors. They could play any role. They were really good at memorizing their lines, because that was like knowing the Creed back and forth and upside down. They knew how to get and hold people’s attention. They also knew how to tell a story. After all, Din had told all those people that he could ‘bring them in warm or bring them in cold’ when clearly he only ever brought them in cold. But they always believed him. It was perfect. 

“Okay buddy, when you have the ability to travel in time, you can bring me to your city and I will take up acting. But what are you going to do? If we don’t need bounty hunters, we won’t need Jedi either.”

Grogu giggled and answered his dad.

“A writer? Why do you get to be the writer? I’m the one who keeps a journal.”

Grogu shook his head. Hadn’t he just shared a story with his dad? That’s what writers do, just in a way that more than one person could enjoy it. It was an ideal job for Grogu. He just wanted people to be happy.

[thiefxking]

Time headcanons

(Under a read more because it got longer than I expected but I have lots of little ideas that may not be so little.)

After returning from War of Eras (Hyrule Warriors because I wanna include that for Time) Time goes to the castle and asks Impa to help him figure out what they can find about his family. They actually find out about both his parents, his mother being the Queen's younger sister and his father being a knight who 'disappeared' one night. This is copied and a copy is given to him 'just in case'.

Time becomes a knight, and by 18 is a Royal Guard. He still travels a lot and handles monsters. At 26 he is a Commander, not a General because he refused that office. He 'retires' at that age, more he and Zelda agree that he isn't officially a Knight any longer and he leaves the castle with the understanding that he is still going to be called back eventually.

He does have a highly accurate clock in his head, a result of the mess in Termina. He also almost gave up completely in Termina but obviously didn't.

He isn't actually married, but he is together with Malon.

Time finds it hard to settle down and wanders off frequently to check everything.

He has gone through the Shadow Temple in Kakariko again and this time he set fire to everything he could. He was not risking something evil making it a home again.

He has gone back to the Kokiri forest and seen the Children again, the Deku Mask allowed him to get through to there and to visit. The Skull Kid recognizes him with and without it because he uses it to visit him too.

He has burn scars over his back and along the side of his neck because of a misunderstanding and a mistake (I plan to write more about this later... probably). He was 20, and this also is part of why he 'retired', he needed time to finish recovering from that though sometimes he visits and trains the other guards.

His magic is settled in three main groups, Light, Nature, and Time. He can mix them and does to a point when using cleansing magic. His other magics are either blessings or ones he figured out how to mix the three to use in some way. (Light and Nature are how he can make the warp songs work but he thinks that they work because of Fairy blessings.)

He considers all the Sages his friends or almost friends. He is torn between reestablishing those bonds because he misses them and letting them go to avoid getting hurt again. Mostly he has reestablished them but a few he let go of.

Time isn't fond of the Goddess Hylia. He is very fond of Farore and Nayru, and to a lesser extend Din and the Goddess of Time (who is nameless right now as far as I know). He also has a unique bond with the Fierce Deity (I have some hcs about him but that's a different post).

While Time is in Wild's time (BotW and TotK) He understands the position of the Yiga and of others. He tries to keep to a more observing perspective and not getting involved but sometimes he wants to grab people and shake them while pointing out that they could be so much more. (He wants to tell the Yiga, especially Kohga, that if they tried to be different, to reach out, that they could have Hyrule far more reunited and that the clan wouldn't be ostracized as much, with their network they could do so much good for Hyrule as a people without a true monarchy and possibly make them exist without that government but he stays out of it. Not his monkeys and not his circus.)

He learns what he can of the cultures he was sort of included in, the Goron, Zora, and Gerudo. Mostly because as a child, mentally if not physically, he was searching for a home but he never did find one. He still takes time to remember those customs and other things to the best of his abilities but knows that some of those things slipped from his memory with everything else he remembers and lived through.

He has major Shadow Temple trauma and as a result gets sick when he smells rotted meat or bodies. He also won't eat meat sometimes because of that. He attacks Wall and Floor masters with extreme prejudice because those things... yeah no. Dead Hand is still a traumatic experience and even after having gone through that Temple a second time he blocks part of it from his memory. (He remembers most of it but some parts... nope.)

Fairies tend to like him and when he was younger they would braid his hair. Sometimes they still do it, usually braiding flowers into it but not always. He learned to braid hair from them and sometimes does it for people he cares about that have longer hair. (This one is purely self indulgent. :P)

[sassygirl579]

Look what I found!

I’m going to a job fair next weekend, and in searching for my resume to make sure it’s updated......I found this forever old (May 2020) very early draft of what probably ended up as TLGF chapter 2 (though we now know Cara doesn’t meet Paz and the kids in person until Chapter 7.  And wow, have things changed--kids without helmets, Kyri and Jos’ whole personalities, even some names (Zara became Miri, Jerek became Jerem--and the Sarai referenced and not actually here is actually a cousin we saw in the chapter where Ezra gets his armor)

Anyway, enjoy what could’ve been--even though writing can be a struggle for me these days, this shows me how far I’ve come--and makes me want to keep going😊 

*******

Cara had now been in the Covert enough times to find the Forge without getting lost.  She hadn’t heard from Bryn since her last holocall to the Captain six days ago, but was assuming their plan for the midday meal of (something) still stood.  Plus, if by chance something was wrong, if her friend needed help, the quicker Cara knew about it, the better.

As she turned the final corner, she did a double-take at the sight of a little girl, maybe two or three years old, standing just outside the Forge.

“Hey, what are you doing down here?” she asked, trying to keep her tone a good mix of friendly and admonishing—but to no avail.  The child burst into tears, her loud wails echoing off the stones of the Covert as she sunk to her knees.

“Hey, who are you—get away from her!” Cara was shocked when a female Mandalorian, much younger than Bryn, if her voice was any indication, stuck her head out the doorway to the Forge, vibroblade in hand.  She scooped the little girl off the floor, and the child buried her face in the young woman’s cowl, continuing to sob.

“Who are you—and where is the Armorer?”

The change in posture that resulted from her question made Cara reasonably sure that she was dealing with a teenager.  She could almost feel the attitude coming off of her in waves.  “I’m not telling you my name—and you’re looking at her.”

Cara stared at the young woman, eyes narrowing.  “Look, I’ve fought a full-grown member of your tribe before, and even with all his fancy gadgets, I still took him down.  You’ve got about ten seconds before……”

“Jos, what is the meaning of this?  Why is she….Cara.” Bryn said, halting as she turned the corner about twenty feet down the hall.

The young woman whipped around to face Bryn. “Wait, you know this aruetii?”

A flash of anger made Cara bow up into a fighting stance.  “What did you just call me?” she said through clenched teeth, her voice low and menacing.

Bryn sighed, a long, weary sound, as she resumed walking.  “Jos, must you stir up contention with everyone you meet?  This is my friend Cara Dune, who is also a friend of Din Djarin.  It has been through her communication system that I have been able to converse with your father for the two months.” She turned to Cara.  “She called you an outsider, that’s all.  If it had been anything significant, there would be consequences.”

She reached over and took the little girl into her own arms, bouncing slightly while rubbing slow circles on her back.  The child looped one arm around Bryn’s neck, stroking the fur collar there, while the other brought her thumb to her mouth.  Her crying all but stopped.

“I’m confused….please explain,” Cara said.  “I knew Captain Vizsla was returning—but I didn’t know he had kids with him.”

“Almost eighteen, not a kid,” the young woman—Jos—murmured.”

Bryn sighed again, and Cara was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes beneath her helmet.  “Cara Dune, I would like to introduce you to my oldest and youngest daughters—Jos and Kyri Vizsla.”

Cara’s eyes went wide.  “Wait….you have….Vizsla…..the big guy?”

“These two, plus six more,” came a deep voice from down the hall.  Paz Vizsla was even taller and broader than Cara had imagined, but he moved with a purposeful, almost graceful gait as he approached the group.

“Eight?!” Cara sputtered?  How…..”

“Two are Foundlings—the rest of us?  When a man and a woman…”

“Jos, shut it,” Paz said, cutting her off before stopping in front of Cara, hand extended.  “You must be Cara—I’m Paz Vizsla—and now you’ve met almost half of our crazy family.”  While his tone was more than a little exasperated, Cara could also hear great affection in it.

“Cara Dune.”  She was shocked at how tiny her hand felt in his.  “I was a teenager once, more years ago than I care to admit…..and I’ve learned way more than I ever thought I would about toddlers over the past few months.  I get it,” she said, giving him a dimpled smile.

“Kyri, can you tell Cara “hello?” Bryn asked the child in her arms.  The little girl peeked out from around the collar, her hazel eyes obscured by a loose chunk of wavy auburn hair.  She took the thumb from her mouth, waved, and promptly returned it.

“Hi,” Cara said, waving back.  “My name is Cara, and I’m friends with your mama.  You look like you’re about……three years old?”

Kyri nodded, her face spreading into a shy smile, and she took her thumb from her mouth.  “We haved a party on the ship.”

Cara’s heart melted.  She missed the little green guy, who wasn’t even hers, terribly, and he’d only been gone a few weeks.  How hard must it have been for Bryn to live without this little one, without all her children, for four months?  “That sounds like fun.”

“Buir gaved us candy, an’ I got a knife.”

“A wooden one.  We’re not that barbaric,” Jos clarified, seeing Cara’s raised eyebrow.

“Jos, will you take over here for the remainder of the day?  This,” Bryn said, nodding her head toward Kyri,” “is not going to work.  Perhaps if I give her the attention she needs now, she’ll feel more secure tomorrow, and I can join you.”

The younger woman gave her mother a salute, gave Cara a nod, then turned to go back into the Forge.  “N-a-p might help, too.  She’s been doing one long one instead of two shorter ones,” she called, immediately followed by the sound of something being immersed into the fire.

“Thank you, tracinya--I’ll keep that in mind,” Bryn responded, then turned to the others.  “Shall we?”

She led the way down the opposite end of the hall, making a left and two rights before entering a code on a panel.  When the door opened, Cara was surprised to find a small, but homey, living area, with two large couches and two oversized chairs, not unlike those in her own apartment.  Further back was what appeared to be a small kitchen area, along with a table with two long benches and two chairs.  There were also three doors leading off of the main room.

“We don’t usually prepare meals here, but our facilities are sufficient for cooling and reheating.  Unfortunately, the Tribe’s cook was among those killed in the massacre, so you’ll have to eat my cooking.”  Bryn tried to hand the little girl off to her husband, but she clung tight to her mother’s collar, and began to whine.

“Cara, make yourself comfortable.  We’ve already eaten, but round two should be coming in any….” Paz was interrupted by a growing commotion outside the door.  Moments later, it opened, and the remainder of the Vizsla children entered, in a cacophony of conversation.

“…..no, that’s not a good choice for a blaster in a situation like that, because….”

“…..she says I should be able to set simple fractures soon.”

“No, Sarai, stop doing that!”

The air was suddenly split by a loud whistle.  All six children went silent—and a second later, Kyri’s cries rang out once again, causing a collective groan from the group.  Paz reached out to stroke the little girl’s head, whispering what Cara guessed was an apology to her, before addressing them at large.

“Okay, now that I have your attention, I want you all to meet Cara Dune.  She’s the one who was nice enough to let BryBuir use her comm system to call us—and she’s a friend of Ba’vodu.”

“Friend, huh?” a boy around ten spoke up.  “More like cyar’ika?” This was followed by a round of giggles by the three younger children, and an eyeroll from a stocky older boy, who was likely the spitting image of his father.

“Ajay, k'uur!  Cuy ogir'olar,” Paz said, his voice firm as he shook his head.  “Cara, I apologize—we’ve been cooped up together way too long, and we’re all losing our minds.” He sighed, and Cara had to fight back the impulse to laugh because the sound reminded her of Din with his own little one.  “You’ve already met Jos and Kyri, so we’ll let the others introduce themselves—oldest to youngest.  Tell her your name, how old you are, and something interesting about yourselves, without getting too crazy.”

The lone helmeted child in the bunch, a slender young woman even taller than Bryn, stepped forward, her long cape rustling. “I’m Zara, and I’m 14.  I’m studying to be a Healer, and I love reading.”

“That’s two things!” Ajay piped up.  “No fair!”

“If you would like to share two things about yourself, you may do so—when it’s your turn,” Bryn spoke softly, swaying a sleepy Kyri in her arms.

“I’m Jerek.  I’m twelve, and I’m swearing the Creed in two months,” the tall boy said, his voice quiet but proud.  Something about him also reminded Cara of Din.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jerek—and congratulations!” Cara replied, which made the boy blush and smile shyly.

Next was the outspoken boy, whose slightly darker skin and jet black hair made Cara think he might be one of the Foundlings. “I’m Ajay, and I’m 11—and I have a joke for you.”

“Keep it appropriate,” Paz warned, and Cara could almost feel the glare coming through his helmet.

“I will!  Okay, here goes--why was the droid angry?”

Cara took the bait.  “I don’t know—why?”

“Because people kept pushing his buttons!” He cracked up at his own joke, earning another collective groan from his siblings.

Cara laughed, more at the thought of Din’s response to the joke, given his distaste for droids, than the joke itself.  “Not bad!”

The boy bowed, then stepped back.

The next child was a girl, who had the same hair color and complexion as Ajay.  “My name is Nima, and I’m 9.  I lost a tooth yesterday, an’ it bled a lot—wanna see?” she said, holding up the side of her mouth.

Cara felt obligated to look.  “I see you’ve already got the next one coming in,” she said—because what else could she say? The girl’s beaming smile was confirmation that she’d made the right choice.

“Am I next?” the smallest boy spoke up, his voice quiet but full of wonder.

“Yes, ad’ika, it’s your turn now,” Bryn whispered, then turned to walk toward the door to Cara’s right, presumably to lay down the now-sleeping Kyri.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Cara asked, charmed by the small boy with big blue eyes and slightly shaggy light brown hair.

“Evet,” he said with a shy smile.

“Can you tell her how old you are?” Zara prompted.

“Six.”

“Do you want to tell her anything else?”

“I got to see birds, real ones, when we were flying.”

Cara gave him an encouraging smile.  “That’s good, buddy—I’m guessing there’s a story behind that?”

“Yes,” Bryn replied.  “Perhaps he will tell you sometime.”

“I’m next!” the last child, a female version of (name).

“I’m Eira and…..guess how old I am!”

“Hmm….” Cara said, pretending to guess.  “You wouldn’t happen to also be six, would you?”

She looked at Cara, mouth open in surprise “How did you know that?”  

“Because—you look just like your brother, and you’re about the same size—so are you guys twins?”

“We are!” she said, giving her brother a hug.  “That’s my special thing!”

“That’s very special,” Cara replied. “Two of my brothers were twins.”

“Okay, she knows all of us—can we eat now?” Ajay spoke up, much to Cara’s relief.

This time it was Bryn’s turn to sigh.  “Yes—but Cara gets to go first, since she’s our guest.”

After a noisy, messy, hilarious meal, and a quick clean-up, the herd descended in the same manner they’d come—loudly and all at once—which was probably how they did everything.

“So, I’m guessing you have some questions,” Bryn said, as she and Paz sat on one of the couches.

“Just a few—but I’m guessing the answer to most of them is ‘I love my family and will do anything to protect them, even if it means my new friend has no idea they exist’,” Cara said, smirking as she sank down into one of the chairs.

***********

[azertyrobaz]

Dank Farrik Drabble #42

Obviously I’ve been so excited about the trailer for Season 3 that I couldn’t focus on anything else for the past few days... So please enjoy Trapdoor/Carefree, and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you need to watch the video more closely. :D

************

“How did you get in there?”

The boy chirped gleefully, happy with his new trick, settled in his lap and started looking around. Din was too stunned to react. How the hell had he –

And then Din remembered that pointless errand Peli had sent him on the previous day. She’d insisted she would look after the kid, and when he returned – without the Mantell mix she had asked him for, since it was obviously impossible to find on Tatooine – he could have sworn they were both hiding something. But since the N-1 had worked fine when he took off, he’d assumed it was nothing bad, or at least nothing that concerned his ship.

Apparently he’d been wrong, and he could now see the impossibly tiny opening under his feet – a small tunnel that Grogu could use to crawl from the droid port to the cockpit.

“There’s no harness for you here,” he grumbled, knowing very well that the boy usually removed it the second they were off to better enjoy the scenery.

Grogu looked up and stared at him with his big, innocent eyes. Din already knew he was doomed. Why did he keep on encouraging this kind of behavior?

“Fine, but stay put, and try to get some sleep,” he sighed, as he pulled him against his chest and used his bandolier as a makeshift seatbelt. That still counted, right?

[idungoofed]

One Of Those Days

Wrote this while having a bad day myself, you know, one where it’s seems like EVERYTHING goes wrong! Anyway, needed a bit of sweet boi Din to listen and say all the right things to make me feel better.

Warnings: Bit of swearing, nothing to see here really.

Word count: 651

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“Aaarrgghh!” You shout, slamming the kitchen knife down on the side, clasping your sliced index finger.

You peep at it between you uninjured hand. Blood started seeping through the edges of the cut; it wasn’t deep but it was the final fucking straw.

Grogu having watched the scene unfold and let out a small “Patuu”.

You turn around and glare at the child, causing him to think better of giving any more input. He quickly presses the control panel on his cot to seal himself in.

You sigh, already feeling bad you’re inflicting your sour mood on to the kid. It wasn’t his fault of course, but today was just one of those days where everything could do wrong!

“Mesh’la! Are you okay?! I heard you shout!”

Din bursts through the door entering the ships small kitchen. He takes the scene in: you clutching your hand, the discarded knife next to the celonslay vegetable on the cutting board.

“I’m fine. Just a cut. I don’t need you.” You say stiffly, guilt flashing at your harsh words. Hearing the anger in your voice, you turn away to the sink, not wanting to drag another person down with your mood. Especially not someone you cared so much for.

Din, however, cared for you too, and would rather feel your wrath than let you suffer alone- no matter how small the problem.

He held out his hand for yours, “Let me see.” His raspy voice is gentle, caring.

You start to protest, but feel the weight of his gaze behind his helmet. You know he won’t go till he knows your okay, so you tenderly surrender your hand.

Din takes it in his, inspecting the wound for a moment, the blood already clotting.

“Wait here.” He says, disappearing out the door to be back a moment later, med kit in hand.

You feel tears welling in your eyes now, your frustrations of the day and his kindness mixing together, making you feel over-whelmed and emotional. You weren’t used to someone taking care of you.

“Hey, hey, Y/N! Why are you crying? The cut will be better in no time!” Din sets down the med kit beside you, brushes away your tears and wraps his arms around you, cradling you to his chest.

You feel silly getting so upset, but revel in the feel of his strong arms around you. Burying your face in his chest you let go and air your grievances.

“Todays just been shit!” You sob, “One thing after another; getting pick pocketed by Jawas at the market, and subsequently not having enough credits for the ingredients I wanted. Meaning I had to get fucking celonslay for the soup instead. Then…” you continue to reel off all the other headaches of your day, your shoulders relaxing as you did so.

Pulling back from his chest you look up through your wet eyelashes into his visor, “And you just have to be so bloody kind even when I’m being a bitch!”

Finishing your rant you rest your head back against the cool chest plate.

Din smiles behind his helmet, and rubs soothing circles on your back.

“Feel better?” He asks.

You nod your head against his chest.

“You’re allowed to be angry, Y/N.” Din soothed. “You’ve had a bad day; you don’t need to hide that from me. I want to hear about it, so I can make you smile again.”

You don’t know what you did to deserve such a kind, understanding and loving man, but you felt your heart squeeze at his words. You finally return his hug, wrapping your arms around his waist, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, your fiery mood completely extinguished now.

Once again looking up at him, he blots the last stray tears with his leather clad fingers, and tilts his helmet down to rest against your forehead in a soft Keldabe kiss.