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thefrogdalorian · 9 months ago

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A Crisis of Faith

Word Count: 6052 Rating: Teen Summary: Although travelling through the galaxy with a Mandalorian bounty hunter was a daunting prospect at first, you were pleasantly surprised by how swiftly the two of you bonded. However, despite your initial closeness, the man who you were thought enjoyed your presence in his life now seems disgusted by his every encounter with you. When you finally land on Nevarro after weeks of being confined to the Razor Crest together, you hope that perhaps, something might fix your fractured relationship... Content Warnings: Din is mean and gets drunk. Slightly rough with header, shoves them away/leans over them and raises a finger to stop you from speaking but it's clear you're not physically injured by his actions and are somewhat excited by it. Kissing. Physical appearance/gender of reader is not specified but Din calls them mesh'la (beautiful in Mando'a). Author's Note: This was inspired by the line "You're a crisis of my faith," in Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift. The song is quite different in tone to this fic but I just imagined what it would be like if Din was ever pushed to a breaking point of his faith before meeting Grogu. This was the result and I regret nothing. Thanks to @decembermidnight for some words of encouragement while I was writing this one, I appreciate it!

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The metallic clangs of footsteps hitting the rungs of the ladder as your travelling companion descended from the cockpit caused you to look up momentarily from the holodrama you had been quietly watching. As he approached the bottom of the ladder, you fixed your eyes back on the holopad that was propped up against your knees. You sighed deeply. There was a time when Din Djarin’s presence had not made you feel thoroughly miserable and tense. But those moments were long gone.

You didn’t move your eyes to meet his steely gaze as his footsteps approached you in the semi-darkness of the hull. Instead, you focused so intently on the bright screen propped against your knees, which was currently playing a cheesy holodrama, that your eyes began to burn under the strain.

Before you had begun travelling with Din, you had scoffed at people who occupied themselves with such corny forms of entertainment, finding them melodramatic and hollow. Since spending weeks hurtling through hyperspace with no human contact aside from your bounty hunter boss, you had reneged on your aversion to holodramas. You discovered that they provided welcome relief both from the monotony of hyperspace and your constant rumination over precisely what it was you had done to drive such a wedge between you and the man whose footsteps were now getting uncomfortably close to your favoured position to relax in.

You felt yourself tensing up as he approached. You had retreated to your favourite little nook on the Razor Crest after showering, hoping that he would leave you alone. It was your little sanctuary, your haven away from the tenseness that lingered in the air between the pair of you. Over the past few weeks, you were pleased that you had created somewhere like this to withdraw to. Although Din was fairly neat and organised by nature anyway, you had still helped to tidy the Razor Crest when you first came aboard, organising various objects which cluttered the hull into several large crates. When pushed together and covered in a blanket and pillow, you discovered that you had created a secluded little alcove where you could relax in your own space. So, after you had taken a shower, you perched yourself on your favourite crate and launched yourself into the cheesy drama that was currently playing out on the screen in front of you. It was a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your own life.

Turmoil that was impossible to ignore any longer, as the looming presence of Din Djarin towered over you, cutting over what little light was reaching you. He did not even have the courtesy to speak one as he stood there wordlessly, hovering over the crates you were sprawled across. You huffed in frustration. Recently, the onus was always on you to begin a conversation. His abrupt change in behaviour towards you made it difficult to believe that he had once been so talkative and forthcoming in his interactions with you. It devastated you all over again to think of the contrast between those happy memories and the tension of the present. The times when Din and you would sit together, chatting for hours about anything and everything as you flew through the stars together were long gone.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally asked, your voice belying your frustration.

“Came down to use the fresher. Didn't know you were awake,” Din mumbled.

You swallowed thickly, feeling your eyes sting with tears at his words. He was so brazen in admitting to you how keen he was to avoid you, that you wondered what in the galaxy you had ever done to him, to have him treat you this way.

“Oh,” you breathed, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of such harsh words. But you were utterly determined not to show any signs of weakness. After all, wasn’t that what he wanted? To hurt you?

It was difficult to believe this was the same man you had met all those months ago. When you had first started travelling with The Mandalorian, Mando as you knew him then, you had – to your surprise – quickly bonded with the mysterious man who had hired you for your services. Mando had wanted to hire you due to your expertise in navigation and ship maintenance. While he was the muscle, bringing in numerous high-value targets, you were his assistant, taking care of everything not related to the bounties he brought back. You were discreet, never asking questions about the nature of his work. You just knew that he needed to bring as many back as possible, to pay off the loan he had taken to afford this magnificent ship: the Razor Crest.

Aside from his line of work, though, in the early days, Mando was surprisingly happy to talk to you about anything. You sensed that before you came aboard he had been somewhat lonely as he led a solitary existence, barely speaking to others and hiding behind his armour. He still hid behind his armour to some degree, of course as he had never removed his helmet in your presence. It was a matter you were never to discuss, aside from him explaining that he would never remove it in front of you. Although you were curious about what he looked like, you respected his reasons for keeping his helmet firmly fixed to his head. Whatever they may be.

Even though you had never seen his face, the two of you had quickly become close in the isolation of hyperspace. Perhaps, even friends. You listened intently as he told you details about his life; the loss of his parents and his subsequent adoption by Mandalorians. Mando even entrusted you with his real name: Din Djarin. To demonstrate that level of trust in you meant a great deal and you delighted each time the syllables rolled off your tongue. The name Din Djarin gave you a thrill each time you said it, sending a shiver along your spine. It was a strong name, one that fit him perfectly.

You did not yet know it, but the night Din had given you his name was also the night everything changed. It was the last night you shared the closeness with him that you had come to appreciate during the months you had travelled together. It spelt the beginning of the end. Ever since then, Din had inexplicably taken a step back from you. He pulled away, retreating into the quiet, solitary figure that you had first met. It had been weeks since he had had a conversation with you that lasted more than a few words.

Din had seemed increasingly distant and withdrawn and it was abundantly clear that you were the cause of his sudden change of heart. He had not even tried to hide the fact that he was keeping away from you on purpose. It felt as though he was disgusted by your presence. You did not have the faintest inclination of what you had done to make him feel this way. You exhausted yourself by racking your brain for answers that never seemed to come. You were consumed by grief. You missed him. His company had been one of the few things keeping you sane.

Despite his intimidating presence, you had discovered that there was a certain warmth to him that he displayed when it came to interacting with you. The times he had made you laugh so hard that your ribs hurt, the way he had taught you words of Mando’a and how to polish his armour. There was even one occasion where he had taught you to wield a blaster, in case of emergencies. You could never forget how Din’s strong arms snaked their way around your waist, how safe and protected you had felt in his embrace. You remembered in aching detail the touch of the soft, smooth leather of his gloves as he held your hands with such aching tenderness, in an attempt to steady your grip on the weapon. Although, if anything, it only made your hands shake more.

That warmth and gentleness were gone now, replaced with the cold, hard version of him that was standing before you. This Mandalorian was unrecognisable to you. There was no way he could be the same as your sweet Din. Your Din who never hated to be alone with you. Who treasured your presence, rather than treating it as offensive. Now, Din spent most of his days in the cockpit, hiding away from you. He only descended the ladder to use the fresher or prepare some ration packs when you were in your bunk, behind a pneumatic door. That was how most of the trip to Nevarro had been. Until now, as he hovered over you.

“Well, you should know we’ll be landing in Nevarro soon,” The sound of his deep, raspy voice tore you from your ruminations.

“Okay,” you nodded, eyes remaining firmly trained on the holodrama.

“While we’re on Nevarro, I have some matters to attend to. I’d prefer it if you stayed here on the ship, but I can’t force you to. You’re not my slave,” he shrugged.

Then, Din turned away from you and retreated to the ‘fresher, leaving you heartbroken in his wake. But you were determined not to sit there and pine after him. You would not allow yourself to dissolve into tears in a place where he could potentially see the impact he was having on you.

You promptly pushed yourself up off the crate and walked on trembling limbs towards your bunk. You hastily sealed yourself behind the pneumatic door of the only small space that was truly yours, sequestering yourself from the anguish that lay beyond the door. The bile rose in your throat as you remembered how he had spoken to you, as though you were of as much significance to him as a speck of dirt on his armour. The tears came, then. Flowing down your cheeks in earnest. You were stubborn, however. You didn’t want Din to know the power he held over you. You would not allow him to see how much his words and actions devastated every fibre of your being. The way he shattered your heart into pieces with each emotionless utterance.

So, you buried your head in your pillow, hoping it muffled the way you cried yourself to sleep. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he could upset you.

The worst part of the whole predicament was that you had realised you had fallen in love with him…

✯ ✯ ✯

The loud clunk of the Razor Crest as it finally made contact with terra firma for the first time in several weeks roused you from the fitful slumber you had eventually drifted off into. The noise which interrupted your sleep indicated that you had finally touched down on Nevarro. Your head was pounding. The tears that you had cried the previous evening after Din had been so cold towards you had torn through your body, leaving their mark on your fragile, shattered being. Despite how much your body was screaming at you to gulp down some water, you did not risk crossing paths with him. Honestly, you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

So you waited until the doors to the ship had opened and closed and the latest bounties unloaded, before you emerged from your bunk. After gratefully chugging several flagons of water and quenching your thirst, you headed to the ‘fresher and gazed at your reflection in the mirror. The person who stared back at you was almost unrecognisable. You looked utterly broken, a shadow of the person you had once been. All the spark had gone from your eyes, which were sunken and lifeless; your eyelids were swollen from the sobs that had wracked your body before you slept. Your cheeks were gaunt, your hair limp. You couldn’t believe that the same man who had once caused you to laugh so hard that your ribs hurt had rendered you so miserable. It tore you apart to know that you had allowed someone to wield so much power over you. The man you had bonded with and trusted, who you perhaps even loved, had reduced you to this.

You knew then, that despite Din’s wishes, you had to get out of this towering metallic prison for a few hours. Even though Din would be disappointed, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were not a natural rulebreaker, though, evidenced by the way your heart pounded as you left the safety of the ship to wander around town. Nevarro was a planet full of scum and villainy, a backwater scughole most people would not choose to visit. It was certainly not the place you would choose for some convalescence. With the beggars and shady characters that lined every street, it was not the optimum environment to repair your shattered nerves.

However, since you were travelling with an aloof Mandalorian, who appeared to be utterly ignorant of how much he was hurting you, you were left with no choice. If you wanted any air for the next few weeks, this was the best you were going to get. Din certainly wouldn’t stop somewhere more picturesque to grant you your wish. You grimaced as you stepped out. You had forgotten how stale and filthy the air of this planet was. Yet, it was better than spending another second in that stuffy metal tomb with reminders of the man who loathed you everywhere you turned. The man that you had been beginning to fall in love with before he woke up one day and decided he hated you.

Although you had hoped a day wandering around Nevarro would revitalise your spirits, you were left bitterly disappointed when nothing of the sort happened. The dismal surroundings only compounded your misery. You felt utterly trapped. If the only thing that lay beyond the confines of the Razor Crest were planets like these, perhaps a life with a man who hated you was preferable. At least you didn’t have to see such depressing sights every day of your life, although being trapped in hyperspace with the Mandalorian that hated you was still pretty bleak.

Despite ignoring Din’s request to remain on the ship, you did respect the rule he set to be back before sundown. So, when the sun began to descend in the sky and dip dangerously close to below the lava flats, you returned to the Razor Crest. You found your heart sinking as you ascended the ramp back to the ship. Back to unbearable tenseness and more heartache as you found yourself forced to survive in proximity to a man who despised you.

The Razor Crest was silent, still. Empty. Din was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t decide if you were disappointed or relieved at that fact. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

At least it meant you would be able to eat the food you had bought from a market stall in peace. The local delicacy was a welcome break from the bland, cardboard-like rations that you survived on while hurtling through hyperspace. It was a meal that your tastebuds certainly thanked you for.

After finishing your delicious meal, you clambered back onto the crate and resumed the holodrama you had been watching before Din had interrupted you the previous evening. You sprawled out on your favourite position in the ship, regaining your strength and finally feeling calm for the first time since you had woken up. The drama unfolding on your screen was a welcome distraction from worrying over the fact that Din had still not returned from his outing.

Despite how hurt you were by his actions, you could not help but fret for his safety. You were never sure how long Din would be gone during these visits, the times could range from a few hours to almost an entire day. But it was practically unheard of for him to be out so long after nightfall with no word as to his whereabouts. You tried to push those thoughts out of your head and lose yourself in the story on your screen. You settled in for the evening, engrossed in the story. Soon, your eyelids grew leaden…

✯ ✯ ✯

The thuds of the footsteps ascending the ramp startled you awake. You sat up swiftly, groaning slightly as you felt the stiffness of your neck thanks to the awkward position you had fallen asleep in atop the crate. The sounds were incredibly jarring to you, not just because they had woken you up from a peaceful sleep. By now, you were well used to every little noise produced on the Razor Crest, all of the little groans and clangs characteristic of the ship. This sound was different from any of them. You knew it had to be Din, as he was the only person other than you who knew how to unlock the ship. But the footsteps ascending the ramp were so irregular and uneven that it was difficult to believe it could be your Mandalorian companion. They were utterly alien to you, so unlike the careful, methodical way he usually cut a path through the galaxy.

You found yourself panicking momentarily, wondering if perhaps he was in trouble and someone else had forced him to open up the ship. Until a few seconds later when, sure enough, the familiar brown chest plate and shiny helmet of the Mandalorian you worked with stood there at the top of the ramp.

You swung your legs around to sit atop the crate and waited to see whether Din would approach you. Whether he had even noticed you. Without speaking or making a sound, he moved towards you. You were startled at the way Din lurched towards you, his boots slamming against the floor before he hit the wall with a sickening clang. The way he was staggering, barely able to stand straight, struck terror into your heart immediately. You leapt off the crate without thinking and rushed to his aid.

“Din, are you alright?” you asked, your voice full of concern as you approached where he was slumped against the wall.

“I’m fine,” was his reply. Curt. Direct. Classic Din Djarin.

You threw your arm around Din’s waist, feeling the coarseness of his cape underneath your hand. Despite his heft, you successfully managed to pick Din up off the wall. Din grunted as he threw his arm around you. You were about to ask whether he had been in a fight until your senses detected the smell which lingered on him. It clued you in to precisely where he had been. The characteristic stench of a cantina lingered in the air, emanating from his entire body. The smoke, sweat and booze of the dingy place was unmistakable.

Even though you were appalled at his drunken stupor and disgusted by his recent actions, you still cared about him. Without hesitation, you began helping Din towards his bunk. The first few steps were difficult, but soon enough you and Din settled into a rhythm. You wanted to make sure that he was alright since you feared that he had drunk too much and something terrible would happen to him in the night. You wished you could remove his helmet and ascertain his levels of drunkenness, whether he had any wounds which required bacta spray. You knew that was never going to happen. You may never have discussed his reasoning fully, but you knew Mustafar would freeze before Din would remove his helmet in your presence.

You were about halfway to the bunk when it happened. Despite the fact he could barely stand, Din abruptly shrugged off your help and shoved you away from him, as though burnt by your touch. Although he hadn’t hurt you, your throat tightened and your eyes watered. He hated you. You shakily exhaled from your nostrils. All your determination to never let him see how much he had upset you was gone. He had gone too far. You decided you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Din, please. Have I done something to upset you?” you pleaded as he continued stepping away from you, backing into the wall. Until it was physically impossible to put more distance between the two of you.

Din threw his head back against the wall, his helmet hitting it with a clunk. He sighed deeply, seemingly composing himself. After a few moments, he pushed himself off on unsteady legs and walked over to you, looming large over you. The backs of your knees were backed against the crate, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run or hide from this Mandalorian towering over you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Din grunted, voice tinged with something far darker than anything you had ever heard from him.

“Din, no, I…” you gasped, taken aback by his words.

You were practically falling over the crates now, feeling the hard surface biting into the backs of your knees as you tried to back away.

“You’re a crisis of my faith,” Din rasped.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammered, stunned by his words. How could you, of all people, make this stoic Mandalorian lose composure like this? “Din, I don’t understand,” you begged.

He raised a gloved finger to your lips, shushing you instantly. You noticed your eyes widened in shock in his helmet’s reflection, standing there helplessly as the musky, leathery smell of his gloves filled your senses.

“Kriff!” Din swore, his last reserves of composure dwindling. “So innocent, mesh’la.”

In happier times, Din had taught you some basic Mando’a. He was enthusiastic to educate you about parts of his culture and you were eager to learn. You loved the way his voice sounded when he spoke the ancient tongue of his people. However, you were unable to understand that particular word. Although you were able to observe how his voice had softened slightly when he said it. You attempted to part your lips to speak, but Din hushed you again by pressing into your lips slightly harder with his glove. He wasn't hurting you. In fact, you found the pressure and his demeanour somewhat thrilling. At least he was paying you some attention, for a change.

“Do you know what the consequences would be if I removed my helmet in front of you and pressed the kiss on your lips that I’ve been aching to place there for months?” Din growled, his voice low and rough.

You shook your head vigorously, eyebrows raised at his words. Although you had initially been startled at the way Din had backed you against a crate, you were grateful for the position you currently found yourself in. At least, trapped between his body and the crate, you at least had some surface to balance yourself against. Otherwise, you feared you may have collapsed onto the cold, metallic floor of the Razor Crest at his confession.

“If another living being caught a glimpse of my face, then according to my Creed, I would be shunned as an apostate,” Din explained.

You sighed deeply, pulse thundering in your ears as you struggled to process the implications of his words. Your heart leapt as it sunk in that Din reciprocated your feelings. You realised that his erratic behaviour had possibly been driven by his desire for you. He wasn’t running or hiding from you anymore. Perhaps whatever beverage Din had imbibed from underneath one of the long straws you knew he used when in public had given him the push necessary to reveal his feelings to you. You silently thanked Maker as finally, Din was making it clear that he wanted you.

Yet in an instant, the hope and joy you felt were snatched away from you. Your heart settled back in your chest, weighed down by the cruelty of your circumstances. That his Creed meant that you may never get to be together in the way you both desired. You nodded your head slowly, in understanding and after a few moments, Din removed his hand from your mouth, permitting you to reply.

“Din, I don't want you to violate your Creed for me,” you asserted, horrified at the notion. “But I wish there was some way I could feel your lips against mine. I… care about you, Din. And since you stopped speaking to me, I’ve been a shadow of the person I was. Nothing makes sense without you.”

Din sighed, bringing his hands to your waist. Shivers traversed your flesh at the way he gently squeezed your body in his hands. The care and warmth that you had been missing from him had seemingly returned. Your Din was back. Even if you could never be together, at least he had returned to you. You hoped the callous way he had treated you would now be a distant memory.

“I’m sorry, mesh’la. I know I’ve treated you terribly. I’ve been too much of a coward to accept the way I feel about you,” Din breathed, his voice shaky under the weight of his words.

“Please don’t ever do that to me again, Din,” you pleaded. “I cannot take it, the anguish of racking our every interaction in my brain. Trying to figure out what in Maker’s name I could possibly have done.”

“You did nothing,” Din insisted, emphasising that fact keenly. “I am not good with… with acknowledging my feelings. How quickly I came to care for you terrified me more than any job I have ever taken. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Oh, Din. I was terrified I had lost you forever,” you admitted, voice cracking as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

Din did not reply immediately. Instead, he lifted a hand from your waist and carefully wiped the tears that flowed down your cheeks with the soft leathery tips of his gloves.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Din sighed. “I will spend tomorrow and every day that follows rectifying the damage I have done. Will you allow me to do that?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to reply with words given the way Din was cupping your jaw with his hand and stroking your cheek softly.

“Good,” Din breathed. “Why don’t we get some rest? I need to sleep the booze off. Then, I swear tomorrow will be a fresh start for us. No more hiding and ignoring you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling for the first time in what felt like months.

You helped Din to his bunk. Although he had begun to sober up somewhat, he was still unsteady on his feet. He slurred apologies into the side of your face and hair as he went, and you felt the way your spirit lifted at knowing how truly remorseful he was.

As you rested your head on your pillow that night, you grinned until your cheeks ached. The smile had not left your features since Din had told you the way he felt about you. Tonight, your body ached with glee, not under the weight of profound sorrow. No sobs were afflicting you, just happiness over the future that lay ahead.

✯ ✯ ✯

The sounds of Din’s footsteps rapping against the floor beyond your bunk caused your eyelids to flutter open slowly. For a moment, your body defaulted to the way his presence had made you feel for the past few weeks and seized up in fear. Then, you recalled the events of the previous night and everything felt lighter. As you lay there for a few moments and processed the sounds, you were immediately relieved to hear that Din’s footsteps were much more even and steady, as they had always been before last night. Your Din was truly back.

You opened the door to your bunk and grinned at the sight before you. Din was rummaging around in some crates, searching for something. For weeks when you had entered the same space as him, he had not acknowledged your existence. Now, however, when he heard the door opening which signified your presence, he looked up immediately. Din did not use his task as an excuse to ignore your existence. He seemed to be honouring the fresh start that he had promised.

“Morning, mesh’la,” Din said softly, “How did you sleep?”

“I slept perfectly, thank you,” you replied with a smile. “What are you looking for?”

“This,” Din whispered, drawing his hands from behind his back. You watched with confusion as he held up an old shirt and tore a length from it. Then he beckoned you to approach him.

“What if I told you that there was a way to circumvent the rules, without breaking my Creed?” Din questioned as you approached.

“Are you sure, Din?” you asked, voice filled with uncertainty, despite the way your pulse had quickened.

“Do you trust me?” Din breathed, answering your question with his own.

“Of course,” you nodded in an instant, even if his response had done nothing to allay your confusion.

His gloved hands held the strip of material up taut between them. You realised, as his hands moved towards you, cloth stretching across your face, that he was about to blindfold you. You knew you should have been terrified that an emotionally volatile Mandalorian, who had been so inebriated he could barely walk mere hours ago, was about to cut off one of your senses in this manner. A life of travelling through the galaxy meant that you were well-versed in sensing danger. On the surface, this appeared to be one such dangerous situation which you had spent your time desperate to avoid. However, the man in question who was about to deny you of your most vital sense was undoubtedly a gentle, considerate man. He was your Din, a man who you knew and trusted like no other. Your Din, who had returned to you. There was no fear or hesitation in your heart as the cloth was tied around you.

With your eyesight cut off, your hearing became more sensitive. You almost gasped as you heard the hissing of Din’s helmet depressurising. This was happening. You wanted to enjoy every second of it, every touch and sound. But it was difficult to appreciate every little noise given the way your heart thundered in your chest and resonated in your ears. You barely remembered how to breathe as, with one hand, Din steadied himself on your hip, while the other cupped your chin and turned it towards his face.

Then, his soft, plush lips brushed against yours, moustache tickling your upper lip lightly. You almost giggled at the sensation. But just at that moment your lips began to curve into a smile, Din placed his hand on the side of your neck and slid his tongue into your mouth. All coherent thought vanished.

You could not be certain, but you supposed that you were the first person Din had ever kissed. His inexperience should not be mistaken for inability, though. You were stunned by how he was applying himself as his lips moved softly against yours, conveying wordlessly the affection he held for you. With every small gesture of his lips against yours, you were beginning to understand just how long he had been holding back. He was desperate for you, a man possessed. Hungry for the touch of your lips against his. You braced yourself against him, hands coming to rest on the cool, hard metal of his chestplate.

Eventually, Din pulled away. Your chest heaved due to the exertion of the kiss. For a few seconds, you both stood there in the afterglow, unsteady, ragged breaths melding together. Din’s hands stayed on your hips, holding you close to him.

“I love you,” you whispered, without really thinking. You momentarily tensed up, fearing that you had said too much. But you felt the way Din’s hands tightened their grip on your waist, his thumbs tracing slow circles into the skin above your rib cage.

“I know,” Din finally replied.

Your mouth parted in shock. Then, he stole another kiss from your lips. This time it was languid, unhurried. You smirked against his plush lips as the turn of events sunk in. For weeks, you had been so convinced that Din hated you. Never again would you feel the closeness of your bond with him. When, in reality, he was not only aware of your feelings but reciprocated them.

“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you,” Din whispered, as his gloved thumb stroked your cheek tenderly. “I was scared by my feelings for you. No one has ever made me feel this way before. I didn’t think anyone would ever make me feel this way. That was until I met you, mesh’la.”

“I was terrified I had done something to offend you,” you admitted.

“Never. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Your presence in my life is a gift. I am sorry for not making you feel that every day.”

You almost burst into tears at his words, utterly floored by his sheer sentimentality. You knew there was a gentle, caring man underneath all that armour. He may have disappeared temporarily, but there was no doubt that he was back now.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, mesh’la?” Din spoke again when you were too overwhelmed by his words to reply.

“You can start by telling me what mesh’la means,” you smiled. “Then, perhaps another kiss.”

“Beautiful,” Din sighed, “It means beautiful, in Mando’a.”

“Oh, Din,” you whispered, as you leaned in for another kiss. This time, your hands came to cup his face, delighting in the scratchy stubble you found underneath your fingers. You could feel the strong outline of his jaw. You had never laid eyes upon him, but you knew he was gorgeous. After the kiss ended, you pulled away and held each other for a few moments.

“I love you too, by the way,” Din whispered into your hair, before adding: “Mesh’la.”

You couldn’t help but break into a wide grin. Now that you knew what the word meant, your head was spinning with giddiness. You and Din stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying your newfound closeness. You would have been quite content to remain that way forever, but there was an entire galaxy out there for the two of you to explore.

You heard the unmistakable hissing sound of a Mandalorian helmet pressurising and then gentle fingers at the material’s knot at the back of your head. When Din removed your blindfold, you were not surprised to be greeted with the steely gaze of his helmet once more. This was how it had to be.

You supposed that perhaps it should feel strange to know that you had never laid eyes upon his face, but were certain that you had already fallen in love with him. Knowing Din Djarin, however, went far beyond seeing his physical features. You knew his heart, his inherent goodness despite the way he had lost himself for a while. You only knew what the touch of his lips felt like against yours and that he maintained a moustache and facial hair. Beyond those details, you knew nothing of his face. But you knew the bond the two of you shared, the nights discussing your pasts, your presents, your futures. The way you would laugh until your ribs ached. How protective he was over you.

So, sure, you had never seen his face… but you knew that you loved him all the same.

You climbed the rungs of the ladder to the cockpit, following behind Din. You’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy if he so much as asked. You knew he’d do the same in return. You didn't know exactly what the future held for the two of you as you sat back in the red leather chair of the Razor Crest’s cockpit. As Din punched in the coordinates to your next destination, you sighed happily. This was a fresh start. The beginning of the rest of your lives together.

His crisis of faith had been averted.

#din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #GETTING THIS JUST RIGHT FRIED MY BRAIN LOL i hope you liked it!!!!!

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orcasoul · 11 days ago

Text

Din Djarin Imagine #2

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Word Count: 683

Secretly in love with you Din, who at first didn't understand the invisible and magnetic pull he felt towards you as he spent more time in your company. Who, when he first employed you as a mechanic on the Razor Crest, didn't expect you to take on the role of joint caretaker for Grogu, but is so glad you did. Who's heart radiates warmth and contentment as he observes the close bond and maternal love you have towards his foundling.

Secretly in love with you Din, who finds himself treasuring the quiet moments the three of you share as you travel through hyperspace, and nervously anticipating (in a good way), the time spent in just each others' company while the baby is asleep. Who spent his life training to be a fearless warrior capable of handling any situation, only to discover that no amount of instruction could have prepared him for you, and how you make him feel; nervous yet bold, calm yet anxious, grounded yet free falling into oblivion.

Secretly in love with you Din, who goes out of his way to make sure you are happy being here with him and Grogu, Wether it be indulging your silly (and adorable) antics with his mischievous son - he often wonders who is the bigger kid on times - or taking time out between bounties at your insistence because, as you stressed to him, "you need to unwind mentally as well as physically". Who melts at your concern for his well being, not being used to someone else caring for him as you do and if truth be told, your gentle and attentive nature towards him makes him fall for you deeper and deeper every day.

Secretly in love with you Din, who could watch you for hours, committing to memory the way your brows draw together and how the tip of your tongue pokes out between your lips when concentrating on a particularity tricky job, how your sweet laughter echoes through the bleak and dreary ship, giving it a life all of it's own and his personal favourite; the way your eyes always seem to find his behind his visor, as if there was no Beskar barrier between you.

Secretly in love with you Din, who rages inwardly as he holds you through the aftermath of yet another night terror. Who's heart shatters every time you sob into his chest (he'd began removing his chest plate in the nights lately, so you can feel the warmth and comfort of his embrace when you need it the most), fingers clutching at the material of his clothing like it's your lifeline. Who whispers soft assurances into your ear about how he will never let anyone hurt you again and silently promises himself that, no matter how long it takes, one day he will find those bastards responsible for your suffering and they will pay dearly.

Secretly in love with you Din, who hopes that he's not imagining the shift that seems to be happening between you both lately. Who prays to the maker that he's not just seeing what he wants to see when you shuffle closer to his side as you walk, when your hand lingers longer than is necessary on his arm, and when your eyes appear to want to convey to him something you seem uncomfortable with saying out loud. Who wants nothing more in those moments than to be able to sweep you into his arms and confess everything he's been holding onto for so long, but is afraid that if he's wrong about this, he'll potentially destroy the beautiful friendship that has blossomed between you both and the relationship you have with Grogu.

Secretly in love with you Din, who has never felt so much love and devotion to another woman in all his years. Who feels whole and at home when he's with you and will do whatever it takes to keep you. Who will never give you any reason to leave... even if it means having to hide his true feelings from you for the rest of his life.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #din x reader #mando x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #star wars #star wars fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin x female reader

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grogusmum · 2 years ago

Text

Crash Into Me

alpha!DIN DJARIN X omega!F!READER

WORD COUNT 2100ish

WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, omega reader in mild peril

A/N: The idea of Din discovering his alpha nature as an adult took hold of my brain and I couldn’t shake it, or write anything much else until I got it down, so here it is. I’ve never written a/b/o before and I don't read too much of it. So please be gentle with me.

It starts out in third person, from Din’s pov and then switches to second person when the pov opens to both of you.

It’s pretty fluffy (What? You say. Shocking, I know! Hazel replies.) and doesn’t contain smut. (I know, I know)

This here is a one-shot that could expand when and if inspiration strikes, if there is to be smut in its future, the Magic 8 Ball says “Reply hazy, try again”.

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

Din enters the local cantina. The job’s complete, but the kid needs to eat before they bring the bounty back to the client. He gently lifts Grogu out of his satchel and places him in a booth. Grogu coos and tries to climb onto the table.

“Hey don't do that, pal.”

A friendly-looking server comes up just as he settles himself and Grogu on one side of the booth with a ready warm smile.

“Welcome, traveler,” the server greets. Upon seeing Din settling Grogu beside him on the inside of the booth, she corrects herself sweetly, “I’m sorry, welcome travelers! Are you interested in eating or just a- ”

“Yes, thank you,” Din interjects. “Um, just for this one here.”

“Very well, the special today is fried gorg over pashi noodles.” she reaches over to point out a few items. Reaching past Din, as Grogu is playing with the single-page menu.

“Unfortunately we are out of roasted craw-maw and the ladnek bisque.”

Din stills when her arm crosses him, below his helmet. His helmet filters out much in standard mode, but he catches a scent he has never experienced. His head swims slightly, normally he would turn on the extra filtration, but something in him wants more.

“Oh, I apologize for my reach, sir,” she pulls back realizing she has invaded his space.

“Don’t worry about it,” Din's voice is low, lower than usual. He is taken by surprise, it’s his ‘bring you in warm or cold voice’, without any of the menace. He clears his throat. And his server does the same, he looks at her properly for the first time. Warm eyes and very cute, pretty, he decides. Her moment of fluster pleases him in a way he doesn't understand and he tries to keep from puffing out his chest. Din thanks the stars for his helmet.

“He will take the gorg and noodles,” he says. “Enthusiastically.”

Grogu watches this exchange closely.

“Very good!” her laugh is warm and genuine. Still smiling as she goes to the kitchen. Din wonders what that was all about and thinks of putting the extra filtration on again.But doesn't.

A busser delivers the food, Din thanks them politely, but can’t help but look past them to see where his server has gotten to.

Grogu digs in, just as his dad anticipated, with enthusiasm. Din is just happy he is eating a cooked gorg.

Quickly, Grogu is down to his last noodle.

“You ready, kid?”

Grogu looks up and nods, making a little mrapp sound. Seeming full and content as Din lifts him off the bench and he sinks comfortably back into the satchel.

After Din goes to settle up, he tells himself he is not put out at all that he didn't get to pay the pretty sever with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes directly, as he heads out the back. It's just the quickest way to the Crest. It has nothing to do with passing the kitchens.

The crash of trash bins behind him catches Din’s attention, and he rounds the corner to investigate. He pulls up short, seeing her against the cantina wall, a hulking human looming. The bin lids continue rolling, then reverberating like cymbals. Her look of fear sends a kick of adrenaline through Din's system, and there is a rush in his ears. His growl shocks him. He has more control than this.

When her attacker looks in Din’s direction, she tries valiantly to take advantage and kick him. He is thrown off balance, yes, but it's not enough, and he quickly has her by the arm.

“I’m only going to say this once, let her go.” Din’s hand moved to his blaster.

“I’m only going to tell you once, to mind your business.”

Grogu ducks as Din draws his blaster.

“Wait!” She shouts.

“See the omega wants to go with me.”

“I do not,” she says, pulling away, but he clamps his hand harder, causing her to wince.

Din is torn between seeing red at the pained expression on her face and the curiosity of this new information- what did he call her? Is that your name? Din holsters his blaster, his hands come to his hips.

“Fine. It seems to me, Omega doesn’t want to go with you.” Din makes himself take up as much space as he can, and drops his voice further. Surprising himself yet again today, he adds “she wants to come with me.”

Confused and again relieved to be under his helm, for after saying such a presumptuous thing, Din can't keep from wincing just a little. Regardless, he stays in Bounty Hunter mode. The woman pulls away again and walks over to Din. He almost forgets about her assailant, watching her progress. Coming to him. Almost-

“It is Omega’s grace and not mine that you are still standing. I see you again, you won’t be so lucky,” Din says only after he has stepped in front of her, completely shielded her from view.

When the other man is completely out of view, he turns and looks down at her. She is very close to him, eyes large. He catches a hint of that smell again. His thoughts lose focus-

“Omega,” he almost whispers.

She looks, he isn't sure, concerned? Disappointed?

Then she tells him her name.

“Oh,” Din chuckles, it’s just a misunderstanding. He is taken aback at how relieved he feels. “I'm sorry- he called you Omega, I just assumed it was your name.”

Now, it is her turn to look confused, but then she smiles.

“Can I escort you to your home or…”

“I thought I was going with you?” She says, a little cheekily.

Din flusters, but he is so curious about her and his feelings, that he makes no further comment, he just places a hand on her lower back and guides her in the direction of the Razor Crest.

Grogu starts to fuss, reaching for this virtual stranger.

She looks at the baby and smiles-

“Do you want a carry?”

Grogu coos and babbles, reaching animatedly.

“I don’t mind, if you don't.”

“Alright,” Din says and brings the satchel around to his front, and she scoops Grogu out. Grogu immediately clings to her shirt, telling a thrilling tale that usually only he, himself understands. But Din watches her close. She listens in wrapped attention and laughs at seemingly all the right places.

Din can see her looking at him with curiosity, a question on her lips. He has plenty of his own.

The assailant had called her omega, but it's not her name. It stirs memories. He hadn't really thought about Aq Vetina, or the lessons the Mandalorians had taught him about his unique biology in years.

This woman is not called Omega, she may be and omega. She might have omega physiology, but that would mean he is not what he thought…

After the battle droid siege that took his parent from him, Din was taken from his homeworld by the Mandalorians before puberty. They understood Aq Vetina was peopled by Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, and knew that even out of their society, Din would have to understand what it all means. They not only taught him about what it is to be any of those designations, but instilled discipline so he would be able to marshal control over the base instincts that can disrupt his ability to function in non-a/b/o society such as the Child of the Watch and much of the galaxy. But not being part of the unique group of people they of course, couldn't tell Din what it felt like.

From what Din understands about it, he has always assumed he must be a beta. But when he thinks about it, he has never knowingly been in the presence of an alpha or an omega, the two designations that would inspire the strongest reactions.

Lost in thought Din arrives at the Crest before he knows it. The Mandalorian hits a few buttons on his vambrace, lifting the security protocols, and lowering the gangway. He again guides his guest with a light hand on her lower back.

Din knows he should say something… 'welcome' or 'make yourself at home' comes to mind and is nixed immediately. He goes with-

"Watch your step."

She looks around. Her curiosity spurs her on but he can see, no feel, a guardedness too.

He reaches for Grogu, and the baby reaches back, then squawks in indignation when he is placed in his hammock.

"Sorry, Grogu. I'll come get you soon," he says as he presses the button to close the door to the bunk.

When Din turns, she is more apprehensive than curious. It comes off her in waves. He knows he needs to explain, but… he doesn't know exactly what to say.

"I'm not going to hear the end of that for some time."

She gives a small smile.

"I- um…" Din starts and stops, her eyes are so…

Din takes off his gloves.

He tries again, taking her hand-

"Aq Vetina is my homeworld, but I was saved after my parents were kiled and taken in by the Mandalorians when I was very young."

Whether she is also from Aq Vetina or just knows of it, he doesn't know, but he can see some recognition. She looks down at his hand on hers, his thumb making circles on her wrist. Her eyes close, and she hums a contented sound. The sound causes fireworks to go off in him. Din breaks away to walk over to a control panel on the wall and shuts down the lights.

You are plunged into darkness. Has your curiosity gotten you into trouble?

"As a Mandalorian, to protect my creed my face can not be seen by others," he explains from across the hold. "But I want to take off my helmet with you-"

The dark is absolute, but you can tell where he is from the sound of his voice. Then a hiss and clunk, followed by a soft fwump, fabric maybe. There is a moment of silence, then right in front of you-

"Do you understand why?"

He sounds different, no longer speaking through the helmet. And his scent- you breathe it in.

"I think so, Alph- you're an alpha," you didn’t plan to whisper.

Din is hit with your scent, now unencumbered by the basic filtration within the helmet. He takes your hand again, bringing your wrist to his nose, inhaling. You know he is restraining himself from going to the scent gland in your neck. But if you are honest with yourself, it's all you want.

Din doesn't know what he is doing, he feels untethered, almost floating. He has never felt this way, his thinking is not confused though, on the contrary it is very clear though it almost feels like someone else's thoughts.

You move closer, bringing your neck so close. Din lowers your hand-

"Can I?"

"Please, Al- Mando"

"Din, please call me Din."

You tip you head to the side, you trust he will only smell, you don't know how you know and that frightens you.

"Alright, Din."

A shiver runs through him, and very slowly, he brings his face to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and inhales deeply. He feels drunk. His training battling with instinct and training all but raises a flag of truce when your nose is buried in his now bare neck, and instinct rumbles its victory. Little does he know that that rumble escapes him until you moan in response.

"Din," you sigh. His response is quick and desperate, a growl rumbling from his chest and arms wrap tightly around you, as he murmurs your name.

How you got to the large crate you are now sitting on, you aren’t sure. Your feet dangle, legs open with Din standing between them, but he is not pressing against you. His head is tucked against your shoulder as he noses against your scent gland. Your hands in his hair,it's soft and fine. He does nothing without express permission. You have never met an alpha like this. You remind yourself he wasn't raised in a/b/o society, where the hierarchy puts him at the top, so many taught that they can just take what they want, like the alpha behind the cantina. You also can tell he is holding back, keeping instinct in check. And you are torn between incredible respect and wanting him to let go.

“I want to kiss you, may-”

“I want to kiss you too, Din.”

Din brings his mouth to yours with an urgency that scares him. He wants to live here, right here. He knows he has to marshal himself, take control. But your lips are soft and the sounds you make, he wishes he could see you-

Suddenly, there is the swoosh of a door to your right and an affronted cry that is as cute as it is furious. You smile, your lips still against his.

“Time’s up, I guess,” Din sighs.

"For now."

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

You can find more of my writing here, and if you are interested in being tagged for this or any of my other works, here is my taglist form.

#a/b/o dynamics #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #alpha din #a/b/o au #din djarin fic #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal character fic #omegaverse

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gffa · 2 years ago

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THE MANDALORIAN TIMELINE

50 Years Ago - Grogu was born ?? Years Ago - The Mandalorian Civil War. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn were sent to help Duchess Satine Kryze and protect her from insurgents as her people were embroiled in civil war, killing most of them. Jango Fett fought in these wars at some point. ?? Years Ago - Din Djarin doesn’t have an exact age, but he’s likely in his 40s, so he would have been born at some point in here. 41 Years Ago - The Phantom Menace, Boba Fett is born 31 Years Ago - Attack of the Clones, the Clone Wars begin, Kamino’s clone army is discovered, Jango Fett dies on Geonosis 31 to 28 Years Ago - The Clone Wars While Mandalore attempts to remain neutral in the conflict between the Republic and the Separatists, Death Watch uses the rising tensions (and are secretly working with Count Dooku of the Separatists) to stage attacks on Sundari, attempting to kill Duchess Satine Kryze and take over the planet. At some point in the war, there seems to be an attack on Din Djarin’s home planet and they’re shown being fired on by Separatist battle droids, when Mandalorians come to rescue him. The Mandalorians are wearing the symbol of Death Watch (despite that they’ve previously been allied with the Separatists?), though, it’s unclear what the connection between Death Watch and the Children of the Watch is.

Pre Vizsla of Clan Vizsla is the governor of Concordia (a moon of Mandalore), voiced by Jon Favreau, secretly leads the Death Watch and reveals that he has the darksaber when he fights against Obi-Wan Kenobi after its revealed that Pre is part of Death Watch. Clan Vizsla is one of the most central Clans of Mandalore, including the only known Mandalorian Jedi (Tarre Vizsla, creator of the Darksaber) was from their House, which is why Pre feels entitled to it, despite that Tarre left it with the Jedi. Paz Vizsla is also likely from this clan. The Children of the Watch were also hidden on Concordia at the time of the Great Purge, which is how they survived the genocide of their people. Bo-Katan Kryze is also part of Death Watch at this point in time.

27 Years Ago - Bo-Katan and Ahsoka meet when Death Watch invade and occupy a village on the planet of Carlac, though, they are enemies at this point in time. 28 Years Ago - Darth Maul (who was found still alive on the garbage planet of Lotho Minor and rescued by his birth mother, Mother Talzin, and another Nightbrother from his clan, Savage Opress) was defeated and stranded, but is rescued by Death Watch. They use the Sith for their Force abilities and connections to crime syndicates for resources and to play the invader while they play rescuer to get the Mandalorian people on their side. Their ruse works and Duchess Satine is overrun, placing her in prison, while Death Watch rules a puppet master Prime Minister. Because Death Watch betrayed Maul once they had taken over Mandalore, he fights his way to the throne room, battles Pre Vizsla and wins the Darksaber (decapitating Pre), as well declaring himself ruler of Mandalore, having won the fight. While most of Death Watch kneels and swears allegiance to Maul, Bo-Katan refuses to follow an outsider as ruler of Mandalore and leaves Death Watch.

Maul uses the prisoner Duchess Satine to lure Obi-Wan Kenobi to the planet so he can have revenge, killing her and forcing Obi-Wan to retreat, leaving him in charge of Mandalore with no one to oppose him. Not much later, Sheev Palpatine (Darth Sidious) decides Maul has become too much of an unknown variable and thorn in his side, so he travels to Mandalore to fight him. He kills Savage and secretly imprisons him, but the puppet Prime Minister (Almec) remembers that Maul freed him previously (after he was imprisoned for being corrupt) and sends Gar Saxon and Rook Kast to free him. After rebuilding himself for a bit of time, Maul regains the Darksaber and returns to Mandalore to take it over once again. Bo-Katan, having left behind Death Watch, gets in touch with Ahsoka Tano and asks for her help in fighting off Maul, who agrees and they go to ask the Jedi and the Republic to send troops.

While the Republic has no legal standing here--and is in danger of violating several treaties, as well as this is an invasion of a neutral planet, but Mandalore needs taking care of, because Maul is dangerous--they send enough clone troopers to defeat Maul’s Death Watch. Ahsoka defeats Maul and Bo-Katan is left in charge of Mandalore (the clones staying behind to help clean up the mess, but within a day or two, Order 66 is enacted, the Jedi are genocided nearly out of existence, and the Empire rises, folding Mandalore into its clutches and they are no longer a neutral system. Emperor Palpatine leaves Gar Saxon as Governor of Mandalore and the clans of Mandalore go along with this, because they are in too bad of a shape to resist. (It was a busy year, okay.) 11 Years Ago - The crew of the Ghost (from Star Wars Rebels, including Sabine Wren, of Clan Wren, of Mandalore) come across the Darksaber and take it with them. It passes into Sabine’s possession. Fenn Rau works to convince Sabine, as the daughter of House Wren of Mandalore, to take up the darksaber and unite Mandalore with it. It’s a symbol of House Vizsla and the other clans greatly respect it, so if Sabine of Clan Wren, a vassal of House Vizsla, were to show up with it, she could unite them. Sabine briefly trains with the Darksaber, but struggles to decide how to proceed with it and her contentious relationship with her family. Returning to Krownest (a planet in the Mandalore sector, home to the Wren clan) to talk with her family, Sabine’s mother Ursa Wren gives the Darksaber to Gar Saxon. When Saxon threatens to kill off the entire Clan Wren, aiming for Ursa first, Sabine steps in to fight him with Ezra’s lightsaber, defeating him in combat for it. 10 Years Ago - Sabine Wren, having won the Darksaber in combat, rallies her family into deciding to fight back against the Empire’s occupation of Mandalore but gives the darksaber to an initially reluctant Bo-Katan Kryze. Leaders of several clans of Mandalore swear allegiance to her and they vow to fight the Empire, after many years of living under Imperial rule.

~9-10 Years Ago - Mandalore is united under Bo-Katan’s leadership and they fight back against the Empire, but it does not go well and the Empire basically glasses Mandalore, a planet that was already devastated by years and years of civil war, the only habitable zones being under glass domes. "Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in the Night of a Thousand Tears." --Moff Gideon

9 Years Ago - A New Hope, the Death Star is destroyed, the crew of Rogue One die in getting the plans for it 6 Years Ago - The Empire Strikes Back 5 Years Ago - Return of the Jedi, the Second Death Star destroyed, Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader and Yoda all die, the early formation of the New Republic happens, Boba Fett fell into the Sarlacc pit Operation: Cinder takes place just after Palpatine’s death, it was a backup plan devised by the Emperor that, if he should die, several key worlds would be orbitally bombed out of existence, because if the galaxy failed to keep him alive, he wanted it punished. Not much longer after the ending of ROTJ, Boba climbs out of the Sarlacc pit and is taken prisoner by the Tusken Raiders. 0 to 5 Years Ago - It’s unclear the exact timeline of The Book of Boba Fett’s events, but he must stay with the Tuskens for several years because he was taken in by them shortly after ROTJ (4 years ago) and is shown regaining his armor in season 2 of The Mandalorian (0 years ago), which he has in the current day flashbacks of TBOBF. 4 Years Ago - The Battle of Jakku happens, widely considered when the Empire fully fell. The wreckage on Jakku that Rey is scavenging in The Force Awakens is from the massive battle over the planet. 0 Years Ago - The Mandalorian, season 1 Din Djarin meets Grogu and is tasked with finding a Jedi to deliver him to, meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and Boba Fett and Luke Skywalker along the way. In rescuing Grogu from a kidnapping, he wins the Darksaber in combat (end of season 2) and is still in possession of it during TBOBF. It’s unclear how much time has passed since season 1 started, but it’s unlikely to be more than a year or so. (Pedro Pascal said not much time passed between s1 and s2, so it’s probably safe to assume not much time passed between s2 and TBOBF, maybe a few months.)

#din djarin #bo katan kryze #boba fett #the mandalorian #mandalore #meta #reference #timeline #long post

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djarins-cyare · 6 months ago

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Hi, thanks for checking out my writing!

I write purely for Din Djarin (though I read and rec other Pedro Pascal characters and other Star Wars media). Whilst not all my stories include smut, they usually contain adult themes and language, so they’re suitable for over-18s only 🔞

My writing is extremely detailed and character-oriented, and I research and proofread/edit thoroughly. I never start publishing something until it’s fully written. As a result, producing content takes me a while, but I hope this ensures that my completed works are high-quality, immersive experiences for my readers.

Please feel free to join my tag list.

**The emojis assigned to each fic below indicate moods rather than specific genres and are open to interpretation**

PUBLISHED WORKS:

🔷 Be-All And Endor [406,690 words]

My magnum opus; this is a novel-length slow burn set after season 2. Din has a bounty on Endor and gets more than he bargained for when Reader accidentally almost runs him down with her speeder in the forest. Over 1.6k kudos on AO3. [😍+🥰+🥵]

🔷 Never Look Down [13,160 words]

Two-part mini-series set on Nevarro after season 3, wherein Din falls for Grogu’s babysitter but resolves not to tell her… until a drunken misunderstanding results in some revelations. [😍+🫣 and a hint of 🥵]

🔷 Din Djarin: The Contractor [1,001 words]

An imagine-turned-one-shot that evolved from pics of Din holding a toolbox and the memory of Joel telling Ellie he used to be a contractor. Reader needs a repairman, and guess who shows up… [😡->😈]

🔷 The Long Goodbye [45 words]

Flash fiction in 280 characters or less. An examination of why Ahsoka came looking for Din in ‘Chapter 13: The Jedi’ rather than waiting for him in Calodan like he asked. [🥺]

CURRENTLY BEING WRITTEN:

🔷 Hush

[snippet 1] [snippet 2] [snippet 3] I was assigned the genre ‘secret relationship’ in a roll-a-trope writing challenge, so this fic follows Din and Reader embarking on a clandestine liaison that they have to hide from Karga… because Reader is our favourite High Magistrate’s niece. Multi-chapter; features sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and furtive smut. [😏🤫🥵]

🔷 Held Is The Seed

[details & snippet] [snippet] A four-part smutty series. When a guy in a cantina claims Mandos make poor lovers, Reader leaps to Din’s defence and lists several ways in which he could, in fact, be exceptionally talented in bed. Din overhears and later offers to prove her assumptions true one by one. [😍->🥵]

🔷 To See A Thousand Things

[details & snippet] [snippet - 1st one down] An extremely smutty, angsty piece based on five firsts and one last. Din has something casual going with a gun shop owner over the years, but they both discover that anything long-term will inevitably transform into something that runs deep. [🥵+😭]

🔷 Aruetiise

[snippet - 2nd one down] One-shot based on the idea of Din and Reader both coming up with reasons they can’t be together, none of which are the same and all of which are idiotic. An argument finally leads to a conversation about it. [🥺…🥹🥰]

🔷 Final Sanctuary

[snippet - 3rd one down] [snippet] Smutty one-shot (will be lengthy) based on a fantasy Din has when his shipmate spills white dip on her chin, and how he manages to figure out flirting and make his fantasy a reality. [🥵->🥰]

🔷 Din Djarin In Jarringly Domestic Situations

[details & snippet] [more details] Space romcom involving a series of encounters in which Din meets the woman of his dreams, but each time, it’s in an embarrassing or awkward situation. [😍😳🥴]

FIC REQUESTS:

I’m very open to requests because having a deadline and someone waiting on me often helps motivate me to finish!

I’m flexible in terms of content, but please bear in mind that smut takes me a lot longer to write, and I lean towards fluff rather than angst (though I’m not opposed to the darker end of the scale). I’m also not a fan of breeding kink (sorry, I firmly believe Din is a reluctant father who loves Grogu but would have to be brought around to the idea of one day having his own) or daddy kink. Otherwise, please feel free to suggest anything that takes your fancy!

Ideally, short prompts or ideas for one-shots are best because I’m the girl who got over 400k words out of “slow burn set on Endor”, so the more complex your request, the bigger the undertaking, the longer it’ll take me to research and write (and the longer you’ll be waiting).

HOW TO SUPPORT ME:

If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider heading over to AO3 and adding some kudos to my fics there. Also, please consider reblogging any of my fics/series masterlists here on Tumblr. Both these actions increase visibility and help new readers to find my work long after publication. I don’t have a Ko-fi because I value online encouragement and marketing assistance more than cold, hard cash.

I also see spinoff media as the highest form of flattery, so if you feel like doing anything creative based around the universes I write, rest assured I’ll be here cheering you on and crying over how much I love you! It’s my dream for my writing to inspire others, whether it’s playing in my sandbox with me or crafting something of your own.

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antianakin · 9 months ago

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@theneutralmime

I'm very definitively positive on clone/Jedi relationships, both platonic and romantic.

I'm going to hit the biologically children thing first because like... no, they're not. If you want to go that route, then you have to count Grogu as a middle aged adult because he's 50 years old even though his official name for a while was literally "The Child" and he's definitely treated like a child in the narrative more often than he isn't. Jango Fett was (as far as I'm aware) a regular human. The clones, the altered ones at least (so not Omega or Boba), are almost an entirely different species. They LOOK human, but they've been engineered to be different from the baseline human they were based off of to the point that they aren't necessarily all that similar to a regular human beyond cosmetics. So if you don't view them as "fucked up humans who should be treated like children because they're technically only 10 years old" and instead view them as "subspecies of human that reaches maturity around 9 years old", then it's a lot harder to view them as children.

I think that it's fair to claim that the clones are SHELTERED and likely fairly ignorant and naive about a lot of things in the world due to their upbringing, sure, but that doesn't make them children. They're also relatively young regardless of whether you'd consider them children or not, the youngest ones we know about are sent out to war at what would be the equivalent of about 20 years old and they're only around 26ish by the time the war ENDS. So even accounting for the accelerated aging, they're still pretty young and there's going to be a lot about the galaxy and how to live in it that would be new to them. Their understanding of how relationships work is going to be skewed given everything we know about their childhoods and the way the Kaminoans canonically seem to view them.

So I think that the Jedi and clones would likely often end up in a sort of mentor/mentee relationship, especially in the beginning. We see this most strongly with Yoda and the three Coruscant Guard characters and Plo Koon with the three 104th characters in the first four episodes of season 1, as well as with Shaak Ti and Fives and Echo during the Clone Cadets episode of season 3. The Jedi are natural teachers and I think they'd start to get to know these young men who are so devastatingly intelligent but who were only ever taught about how to fight a war and they'd immediately take the opportunity to help guide the clones towards figuring out who they are and who they want to be. We're pretty much told that this is true point blank when I believe it's Nala Se or Lama Su speaks to Dooku during season 6 and they say that the Jedi have been encouraging individuality in the clones. Fives says that the Jedi respect the clones and calls the Jedi their best friends at two separate points in the narrative. The Jedi literally use their OWN PHILOSOPHIES to help the clones learn what it means to be PEOPLE and to embrace that for themselves.

The relationship between the Jedi and the clones is honestly one of the most beautiful and heartwrenching dynamics in the entirety of Star Wars to me. Their destinies are entwined irrevocably and they are each the others' doom and salvation all at once. The Jedi help the clones discover who they are, but they're also going to end up being the reason the clones lose all sense of themselves. The clones are a light in the dark for the Jedi during the war, but they're also going to be the weapon that helps plunge the entire world into darkness by eliminating the Jedi. These two groups that are SO similar in so many ways but for vastly different reasons who are thrown together by forces beyond either of their control and learn to understand each other better than anyone else ever has and love and trust each other implicitly for it and that love and trust is then used to destroy them both. It's absolutely devastating and really gets me in those feels.

As far as romantic ships, I sort-of said my piece on the age thing earlier, but I honestly find that fussing about characters' ages in Star Wars is more ridiculous than it usually is. These characters are literally ALIENS and it's a universe where human characters who are twelve years old are allowed to hold office. I have my personal preferences in terms of clone/Jedi ships, but I am a very ship and let ship sort of person (yes, even with the ships I DESPISE), so I'm not going to make a big deal out of clone/Jedi ships. I also like clone/clone ships which tons of people find problematic for other reasons, so whatever.

I HAVE seen the superior/subordinate thing get addressed in clone/Jedi fics before. Sometimes it ends in the characters deciding to wait until after the war and when the clones are given rights and official citizenship status or something before they begin a romantic relationship, and sometimes it ends in the characters recognizing that a lot of the rules shouldn't really matter when they're at war and they could die literally any day and they deserve to find happiness and pleasure where they can find it so long as they work to ensure that this doesn't impact their respective responsibilities. Again though, this is a space fantasy and absolutely nobody on the writing staff for The Clone Wars was taking the structure and internal dynamics of this fantasy military particularly seriously, so I'm not sure why I or anyone else should have to if they don't want to.

So yeah, I love relationships between the clones and Jedi, it's probably my favorite dynamic in the whole franchise, regardless of whether it's platonic or romantic.

#star wars #jedi #pro jedi #clone troopers #clones

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draconicscreaming · 1 year ago

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Drawings ~ Din Djarin x Reader (SFW)

~While you're out with the child, Din Djarin comes across a discovery that he asks you about later. A skill he never knew you had.

He hadn’t meant to find them. Hadn’t meant to invade your privacy, but it was happenstance. You had gone off with Grogu to the local market, insisting on finding fresh produce for the Crest. “Can only stand the taste of freeze-dried stuff for so long” You had stated and with that, Din had agreed but stayed behind to fix some minor malfunctions on the ship and clean up the hold. That’s what brought him to stumble upon this finding.

He was placing some of your items over in your sleeping area, organizing it so that you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. A small gesture he had hoped you’d appreciate from him. You both had grown accustomed to doing things for one another, little actions that reflected your admiration for one another. The Mandalorian had accidentally knocked over a crate and cursed to himself, the words brushing through his modulator and echoing in the holds empty space. He moved to pick it back up and place it back where it originally sat and he paused, angling the visor of his helmet down. That’s when he had spotted them. Stashed in the crate underneath. The lid to it had become slightly ajar just enough for him to be able to catch a glimpse of the contents inside.

Drawings. Handmade drawings nestled inside.

Din slowly placed the crate back down next to the one he was gazing into and hesitated. He didn’t want to invade your space more than he already was by tidying it. But something pulled at him to take a little peek. Had he… Remembered seeing you drawing? He wracked his brain for any inclination that he had and nothing came to the forefront. So this was something personal. Very personal. His chest tightened and he pulled back, fighting the urge to get a better look. He wouldn’t do that to you. Betray that privacy and trust of yours. Maybe he’d mention it later but assure you that he hadn’t seen anything. Let you show him yourself.

He placed the top of the crate back on to secure the drawings and put the other back on top and went back to doing what he was doing, but curiosity had nestled itself into the Mandalorians brain.

—--

A couple hours later, you returned. Grogu was strapped to your chest in a sling, his head lulling back against you and his little eyes fighting to stay open. Seemed he had a busy day with you. You also carried with you bags filled with fresh vegetables of different varieties, something that promised a tantalizing dinner. Din crossed over to you and gently took the bags from your arms, much to your complaint but he simply tilted his head and you had let your words die in your throat. He chuckled softly and leaned down to bump his helmet against Grogu’s forehead to greet his sleepy son. He received a mumbled coo in response and stood back up to gaze into your smiling face. You both momentarily parted ways then, Din going to put the groceries away while you laid the sleepy toddler in his hammock for his much needed nap.

You both met up in the cockpit, settling into your respective seats, resting into a comfortable silence. The planet’s sun was beginning to set, sinking down closer towards the horizon and painting the skies in hues of pink and lavender. You looked over to gaze at the Mandalorian, eyes taking in how the silver of his beskar took on the gentle sheen of the colors of the heavens. You breathed a gentle sigh and he turned his helmet to fix his visor back on you. You couldn’t see it, but he was smiling under that helmet. Soft and full of warmth. “How was the market?,” Din finally asked to break the quiet and you told him of your venture today with the Child.

He listened intently as you spoke, so full of life. The way you moved with your story was animated and he couldn’t help but be drawn into you. It reminded him of what he had discovered earlier in the hold and that was immediately blasted back into his thoughts. Din waited patiently for you to finish before you were the one asking him what he had gotten himself up to while you away. “Nothing too troublesome I hope,” you chuckled, “I know the Crest can be hard to wrangle.” Most days that was true. Kept him busy. The Mandalorian tilted his head and recollected his day as you had done yours. But when it came to the part about his finding, his voice faltered a moment and trailed off.

A small look of concern flashed across your features for a brief moment. His hesitance wasn’t lost on you. “Everything ok?,” you murmured, reaching out to place a hand on his thigh. “Yeah, yeah,” came his response, strong and assuring but he fell back into a silence as he wondered how he’d ask you. If your drawings were really that personal, he didn’t want to freak you out that he had found them. Even if he hadn’t looked.

“Y/n,” he began and your eyes sharpened, meeting the center of his visor in an attempt to make eye contact with him. “Is there anything that you do… That helps you relax?” Now it was your turn to tilt your head and lift a curious brow. “You mean beside the usual stuff?,” you responded after a moment of consideration, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms in a gesture of thought rather than closing yourself off. “Not that I can recall. Why?”

Din regarded you, watching you closely. But he continued on. “Nothing more on the,” he paused to collect the right word, looking slightly off to the side, “artistic?”

That brought a flash of recognition to your face and suddenly you seemed more alarmed. Shy even as your eyes flickered away from his helmet. “D-did you find them?,” you asked quietly, your voice sounding small. Din felt bad in that moment, reaching out to rest a reassuring hand on your thigh this time. He immediately wanted to calm your worry, to make it known that he hadn’t done it on purpose or even fully looked. “I was moving things around in the hold when I knocked something over. It had loosened the lid on one of your crates when I caught a glimpse,” he explained, “I didn’t look further than that. Didn’t want to invade that aspect of you without your permission.” You looked back to him with a frown but you could feel the sincerity in his modulated vocals. You knew it too. Knew that he wouldn’t do that to you,

That was one thing that you had come to strongly admire about him. He was gentle with you, never pressing or crossing your boundaries unless you gave him permission. That was when he typically did and even had done his best to draw you out of your comfort zone most times, guided on your trust for him and the comfort he brought you. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest and settled in your heart, uncrossing your arms and resting your hand across his own. “Yes… I like to draw sometimes,” you admitted softly, “I’m very self conscious about my skill and I usually like to draw what I enjoy most.” That piqued his interest more and the black visor of his helm was fully transfixed on your visage once more.

“Can I see?,” he asked softly, once more asking for permission to push a boundary but only if you gave the ok. You nodded your head. You wordlessly stood and crossed through the cockpit and disappeared into the belly of the Crest, leaving the Mandalorian to wait for your return. When you did, you carried with you a small book in your hands and a few pieces of loose papers. You sat back down across from him and seemed to hesitate, keeping your eyes down towards the floor. Din waited patiently, tilting his head to regard you. You looked up to take him in and slowly held out the sketchbook. His eyes never left your face when he reached out and took it from your hands. His grip was delicate and gentle as he handled it. He could sense the importance of these pages. A look into another private side of you. The things that you enjoyed the most.

Finally he looked down and flipped through the pages and his heart immediately caught in his throat. His gloved fingers handled the edges as gently as he handled the Child and his eyes lingered on each image. Images of him. Of Grogu. Of the Crest. Some of the environments you two had ventured across. But mostly of him and of the Child. A lot of the two of them together. There was one drawing of him cradling the child that he particularly loved a lot. And it was masterful. You were self conscious of your skill? Maker, he had never seen such handiwork before in these sketches. He knew you were good with your hands, but not this good.

Affection warmed his body as he continued to look through the book. You had taken such care to get the details of his armor right. Of getting him right. Did you really look at him that much? A chuckle slipped from his modulator at that thought and you shifted uncomfortably. His head snapped up and saw that your face was scrunched up in concern. “I-I’m sorry!,” your blurted, “I know they’re awful and horrible and I-I don’t mean to draw you so much.” You went to look away but Din quickly reached forward and cupped the side of your cheek to prevent you from doing so. His thumb ghosted over the warm surface of your skin in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fluttered at the contact and you looked up at him with those beautiful (e/c) orbs and he couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. He wondered to himself suddenly how you’d look in your own drawings.

“I love them,” he remarked earnestly, “the way you draw me. Am I really what you enjoy the most?” The question was teasing and you blushed, trying to pull away but his hand held you there to look at him. Your lips fell open to voice an answer but nothing came out. He chuckled again.

“Why aren’t there any of us?”

The question caught you off guard and you sat and stared at him. “What?,” you asked and Din repeated it again. “You draw me and the Child a lot. Why are there none with us?” This time he let you pull back away from his touch and your blush had deepened. “I- I, um… I don’t know… Guess I never thought to do so… Didn’t know if you’d like that…,” You stammered, rubbing at your arm and looking down towards the book in his hands. Din hummed thoughtfully and placed your sketchbook back in your lap, patting it.

“Can you draw us?,” came his request. This time it was his turn to feel a hint of embarrassment and he thanked the Maker that he had the helmet to hide his expression. You looked back up at him, eyes round once more. You were surprised. So much so that you laughed, light hearted and disbelieving. “You want me to draw us?,” you giggled, hugging your book to your chest. He nodded, sure that was what he wanted. “I’d like that very much. Would you do that for me?”

Maker you’d do anything for him. The fact that he had been entranced by your work was enough to give you confidence. That he hadn’t been made uncomfortable by your drawings of him. It wasn’t secret that you had feelings for the beskar man, but you were still slightly afraid to push him away. He was your safety and your comfort. He was your everything. But he had never once reacted negatively to your actions of love and care. In fact, it always drew him closer to you. So this you could do. You wanted to do it now.

Filled with new vigoration and motivation, you hopped up from your seat and hustled back down towards the hold. The mandalorian gazed at you in surprise and you gave him a wide grin. “I’ll be right back! I’ll do it now!” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you were gone again. Din sighed and shook his head in amusement, sitting back in his chair to look back out the viewport of the Crest. Man when you wanted to do something, there was no stopping you from doing it now.

By the time you returned, the sun had fully set and the first batch of stars winked and glimmered against a background of inky black. In the distance, a light glowed faintly in the forest where the settlement was, where you had gone earlier in the day. But now you were here with him, bathed in the faint blinking lights of the cockpit. There was still enough light to see comfortably though. You came up to Din’s side, holding a paper to your chest with that same shy expression. It was cute. He looked up at you wordlessly and waited for you to show him. He’d let you take your time. Finally after a few moments of hesitation, you passed the page to him and looked down. That same warmth spread through his body and his heart fluttered in his chest at what you had drawn.

It was you, him and the Child. You held Grogu in your arms while you had drawn him pressed close to you, one hand resting on one of your hips. His helmet was angled to gaze down at you and Grogu - a portrait of your little family. This was something he knew he’d treasure forever. Something he never wanted anyone else to touch but you. Din leaned forward and placed the paper on an area of the controls where he could see it every day when he sat in this chair. You were about to speak but a squeak left your throat as he pulled you down into his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you and resting his head against yours. You giggled and melted into his embrace.

“You like it that much?”

“I love it, Mesh’la. Like how I love you.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #reader insert #star wars reader insert #mandalorian reader insert

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loquaciousferret · 2 years ago

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Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I recently discovered your blog and... O sir. I love your way of writing, thank you for doing this beautiful work and sharing your magic with the words.

I would like to ask you for something fluff and very loving to our star warrior Din Djarin. Maybe you could do something with the song "She", by the singer Dodie. I think what the song expresses would be just what Din would feel when falling in love.

If this isn't what you usually write or you don't like the idea, that's okay. It serves me well just to let you know what a great writer you are.

I'm sorry if I've expressed myself badly or you don't understand anything I've said, English is not my first language. Thank you for your attention.

Thank you for this adorable message, you have explained yourself really well, never ever apologise for speaking in your second language!

Also this is so strange because I loved this song so much when I was younger and haven’t listened to it in years, you just reminded me of it, so thank you!!

And yess I totally agree, even though Din is so quiet I feel like it’s just by choice and he would have such a way with words and be so poetic when he falls in love with you.

She

Pairing: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x f!reader

Warnings: This is an 18+ blog but this story does not contain any specifically explicit content. Fluff, unrequited love, yearning, forbidden-ish romance, and sadness.

Word Count: 1.1k

You shouldn’t be looking at her like that. The Mandalorian scolds himself.

You had convinced him to let you and Grogu take a walk on this quiet planet, with his protection, of course. After grumbling, he finally agreed. He rarely had the strength to deny you anything you asked him for.

He leans against a tree, at the edge of the meadow, and as much as he tries, he can’t tear his eyes away from your beautiful form. A flowing white dress surrounds you, picking up grass stains around its hem as you twirl in the field with Grogu in your arms. You lift him and throw him, and he giggles and gargles in his own little language. It’s not wrong to simply admire her. He reassures himself. Not when she is just so nice to look at.

Sometimes, in moments like these, Din thinks the maker put you in this galaxy just for him and Grogu. As he watches you play with the child, his heart swells. sunlight catching you and making your eyes glint, goosebumps prickling your bare arms when a breeze runs through the atmosphere. Yes, he could live in these moments forever and never feel any obligation towards anyone or anything else. He yearned to be able to take you into his clan.

You must have called his name a few times before he snaps out of his trance, because you are looking at him inquisitively.

"Sorry, cyare, what was it?" He says, walking towards you.

He is the first Mandalorian you have ever met. You don't understand any of his mother tongue, and he knows that. You understand his nicknames for you are terms of endearment just because of how softly he says them. You don't think you have heard him call you by your name in weeks, always cyare, mesh'la, cyar'ika, ner kar'ta.

"I wondered if you would dance with me, Din."

Having closed the distance between you, he takes you in, the shy smile that you are wearing makes him want to drop to his knees before you. He listens carefully and he hears it too, soft music drifting towards you from the nearby village.

Grogu is on the floor now, head barely visible bobbing above the over-grown grass. He runs around your feet and circles your legs as he chases a butterfly.

You are looking down at him, watching with adoration. Din is sure he wears the same look on his own face, but the object of his gaze is you. He thanks himself for his helmet. His expression would give everything away in an instant, and he knows that can never happen. He would never tell you. He could never say a word.

He hears three or perhaps four string instruments playing together. The sound travels through the wind and envelopes the pair of you in this tender moment. He wishes that you might reserve this side of you for him but the truth is you are full of this same warmth and gentleness towards everyone, it is just your nature.

You reach a small hand out and he takes it in his large, gloved one. Then he changes his mind, and lets go of you again. You seem disappointed but then you gasp as he removes his gloves.

"Din, you don't have to-"

"I want to." He responds simply.

You don't question him further. After all, you don't really understand much of his religion, only fragments from what he chooses to share. You know he can't show you his face but you're not sure what the rule is about skin in general. You don't think he would break the rules for you, as he is disciplined and pious. And yet, the touch of his hand on yours still feels forbidden.

For him, it shoots electricity up his arm and spreads heat to every corner of his body, heart, and soul. He couldn't have imagined how soft and warm your skin would be, and yet it feels entirely natural to touch you. He wants to explore the feeling of every patch of skin on your body from the soles of your feet to the top of your forehead, with his hands, and his lips.

He steps closer to you until there is barely an inch of space between your two torsos. Your frame is inviting, whilst his is cold and dominating, a wide plate of beskar which conceals well what hides beneath it, his heart, which is yours in its entirety.

You sway gently to the music. He is stiff at first but eventually joins you in motion, pushing you away from him to spin you around, which makes your face light up. As he does this, the scent of your hair washes over him as you whip round. You taste of childhood comforts like birthday cake, and story-time, and fall. He thinks to himself. You taste like the galaxy's sweetest fruits, like apple juice and peach.

But to you, he thinks, I must taste of nothing at all.

He yearns to give himself to you. To remove every piece of armour that separates him from you. To allow you to know him. To prove to you that a beating heart and a warm-blooded man did live within this cold suit of armour.

But even if he could do any of this, he knows you wouldn't have him. You would marry someone with a soul as sensitive as yours. Someone who could make you their muse. A poet, or an artist, someone who could paint you in a picture and ensure your memory was eternal. You wouldn't have him. A hunter. A killer.

You continue to twirl in the grass, Grogu now clawing at the hem of your dress, wanting to be lifted and join the pair of you in a dance for three. She, Din thinks, she means everything to me.

And so, he plays along. He brings you gifts back from nearly every hunt. He dances with you when you ask. but he knows you are not truly his. That you can’t and won’t be. As much as it aches to admit this to himself, it feels oddly good to hurt. The pain in his chest when he thinks of how your time together will soon end is what he considers to be proof that the love he feels for you is real.

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