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grippingbeskar · 2 years ago
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chapter five - married
warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of death (?) um idk i think that’s it???
a/n: gah. one of my fav chapters so far hehehehe ALSO PSA YALL— i’m trying to tag some of you in the taglist but your names aren’t popping up, i think this has to do with your settings?? i’m not taking anyone off i’ll retry to tag you ever chapter, but just so ya know!! if there’s like a line through it or it’s white instead of highlighted just have a look, or if i need to be following you just msg me and i will :)
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Just walk up there.
It’s nothing.
Nothing you haven’t done before.
You’ve been in front of thousands— millions of people before. You’ve been in arenas of people screaming and applauding, crowds swarming you as soon as you step out the door. This, being in a moderate sized room where half the eyes on you are stuffed in a helmet, should be easy. Child’s play.
It was nothing.
So why the hell are you feeling so terrified?
You were practically shaking— staring up at the set of stairs in front of you, leading to the Armourer who stood next to the original Forge. The one where every Mandalorian in the golden age would have been brought into the creed. And now, you were going to march up there and add your name to the list. You felt like an imposter, out of place in a flowing dress while you were surrounded by hard plates of armour and dark colours.
The only reason you moved was Bo-Katan behind you, a soft hand on the back of your arm nudging you in the right direction. You were grateful for her kind eyes as she nodded you up to the podium, and then your feet remembered they were attached to your body.
You met Din’s blackened stare, and started to move.
Your dress was loud. A brush of the light yellow fabric along the smooth granite ground sounded deafening. Like an alarm going off, alerting every watchful eye of the Mandalorian ancestors to your betraying presence.
Stars— you were starting to think like them, too.
It was hard not to get caught up in it all. The darkened room, soft whispers through helmets, and as you took the last step up, he was there. Your breath caught in your throat.
He looked the same as always. Of course he did, but it knocked the wind out of you all the same. Once he was in your sight, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. His presence didn’t allow it. The Armourer said something, and the only reason you acknowledged her was because he did.
“This is The Way.” He says, the words sticking to you like glue when he practically purrs them out like that. This was the way it was now. You— a fake Mandalorian, unable to stand without everyone around you holding you up.
Swallowing hard, you felt Bo-Katan move away, but you were too busy watching Din take three steps to your side. His arm wrapped around yours, sneaking it’s way under the bare skin of your wrist, cold gloves skittering electricity up your arm.
And
 oh.
It was like everything just stopped.
You could feel the press of his fingers, light but meaningful, like most of his small touches of you. He was careful not to wander the expanse of exposed skin, which he easily could, even in front of all these people. People who you’d
 you’d actually almost forgotten everyone was there.
You stared up at him as if it was your first time seeing a night sky— entranced and all encompassed by the inky black and shining silver, and all the whispering voices faded away until it was just his rough breathing and his gloved hand on your feverish skin.
He didn’t look at you, just at where your own hand was placed, holding for dear life on one of the many plates of his armour. He led you with him over to the half sphere that sat in the middle of the stage. You peered in, seeing the eternal flame fluttering a reliable blue, with the water from the mines floating calmly behind it.
You grab him tighter— either out of reflex or wanting, but he leans into it. Lets you use him to stand, to stay strong in the face of the Armourer. You hope he’s strong enough to keep you standing on his own, because now he’s here, you aren’t sure how you stood without him.
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Din was speechless.
He was known as a man of well chosen words to most, so his silence wasn’t unexpected. He was grateful he’d built that reputation, because even if he had to, he wouldn’t of found words that described why he felt frozen at the top of the stairs.
When he’d see you walk in, he felt like time had
 stopped. It was stupid of him. He was meant to be in control. He was a King. Standing in front of his people; leading. But
 stars, you were the only thing in 20 years that had made him freeze.
You walked so easily, like you were made to be there. It was like that first day, watching you walk through the city like the ground was made to bear your weight. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t tear his eyes away from your slow, swift steps or the way you gracefully floated across the hard floors. Neither could anyone else. Outside his direct view of you, he could see his people watching. Some eyes were evaluating; the hard faces and helmets looking you up and down like they were scanning the battlefield— precisely and with no mercy.
Others watched like he did. In awe. Some eyes were soft, some whispers drifted their compliments towards her, even though they wouldn’t be heard. That’s how he knew they were genuine. They fell on deaf ears, but they were supposed to.
When you crossed the stage to him, the only thing that snapped his attention away was the loud voice of the Armourer in his ear, telling him to move towards you.
He could tell you were nervous when he got closer— for once, your eyes betrayed you easily. He thought that he was the one that’s hard to read, considering you couldn’t see his face, but you had schooled yours to a point of contention. He knew if you could see him— really see him, you’d read right through him.
But your eyes now, even though they held his, were unsure. He was supposed to just stand next to you, walk with you to where you would touch where the mines water meets the flame, and then you’d be one of them.
But he couldn’t help himself. Your dress, draping over your skin like liquid sunshine, made something angry and foreign to him burn in his chest. He wanted to feel what it was to be that close to someone— someone, he had to tell himself. Anyone. Not just you. It was a lie, but it was one he’s going to have to believe himself.
He was jealous of your dress, gently grazing the skin of your hips, gliding against the softness of your thighs. You were covered, but he knew what was under there. What was in reaching distance for him. Instead, he settled for your arm. As soon as Bo-Katan released you, he took his chance, and for the first time in a while, he followed what his rapid beating heart was telling him to do.
When he reached for you, you answered in earnest. Your hands were nearly clawing at him, holding on to the thickest parts of his armour and pulling him close to you. He let you find purchase on his body— the line of yours tucking tightly into him, and he found himself hoping you held him harder. Dug your nails in so hard that he felt the lines being marked on his skin. He wanted you to need to lean on him— to need him like he found himself needing you up here.
You clung tightly through the whole ordeal, Din not being able to remember much about it other than how warm you were against him, and how close your skin was to his. Just a few inches of armour, feeling so heavy on his body, and he would be able to feel you. He hates that he thinks about that— a million eyes on him, and all he can think about is how soft you would be under the rough calloused palm of his hand.
He doesn’t remember the last time he’s thought of feeling that. Let alone
 longed for it.
The longer you held him, the more Din thought it wasn’t real. Maybe you were trying to sell it. As far as the rest of his people knew, you were supposed to be in love. You needed to be seen united and together, leaning on each other. This was just business to you— he knew that. It was to him, too.
It had to be.
The alternative
 it was better to be buried than brought to light. Din wouldn’t handle that disappointment well.
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The entire thing was a blur from the minute he touched you.
You remember the physical parts. Where he took you to the edge of the Forge, rested your hands on the edge of it. It was cold. Colder than he was, although he’d been pressed up against you so long his armour was as warm to the touch as your skin was. You wondered if he was that cold under that suit.
When you managed to shake that thought away, you remember him guiding your hand towards the flame. It was too hot, and you wanted to pull away for a second. You flinched, but Din kept you on the right path, guiding your hand and covering your reaction, and it ended up looking like a part of the carefully planned show.
The fire nearly licked the inside of your wrist— the water a sharp cold contrast. The Armourer spoke words, and you repeated them, but even they fade; pale in the shadow of the memory of how Din stood above you.
For the first time, he looked every bit the King you’d been told he was. He stood tall, watching as you knelt in front of him, never moving a fucking inch. Then, he reached out, gloved hand intertwining with yours as he led you down and out of the room, disappearing before you could speak again.
He didn’t have to do that.
He does everythin with purpose
 and that little touch? That tiny extension of a person under all this? That was
 well, it was enough to make you stumble out of the hall like an idiot.
It was mind numbing. How his fingers easily melted into the small gaps between yours, how eager he seemed to take your hand, how quickly he latched onto you and swept you out of the room, like he knew what you needed.
As you shuffled your way down and outside, you wanted to scold yourself. If anything, this was the part of the day you had to have a clear head about. You were left alone for this— it was just you, a short, isolated walkway, and a greenhouse in the middle of nowhere.
You’d asked about it. Why they had something like that out here— in an environment that seemed to harbour life well enough, despite the rumours of the toxic and cursed lands.
“It’s a symbol.” Din had replied, although when you’d asked him he’d just been The Mandalorian, the title feeling a little too official now.
“Of what?” He guided you with a hesitant hand, around the corner where the greenhouse came into view. It was small— modest, for the size of the population now. You could see the twisting vines and array of colours, though, and it was bursting with life.
“Of hope.” Din replied, and you chest tightened. “The Mandalorians that were left, after the Purge, they had nothing. Food reserves were scattered— the people were scattered. When a few banded together, this is was what came of it. It reminded them they were stronger together. Many think this was the place our true rebirth was born.”
The door was closed, but you could still see the colours bursting through it. You tried to look for him through the misted glass, but he was no where to be found. Your heart was racing— you had no idea what to truely expect in here. Would he say anything? Nothing? Would he whip out holochess to pass the time?
What made you the most afraid as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, would be that he was going to do exactly what that man said he would. That he’d share with you something you weren’t sure you wanted him to— something that would make you feel even less deserving than you already did.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see. It just felt too
 too big of a thing to take from him. Despite the small conversations, you’d begun to respect the silent presence of him. And after today, you couldn’t deny the effect he had on you. You didn’t want to take anything from him, not when he’d been so giving to you.
The air felt fresher in here, passing through you in easy breaths, like there was a calming effect inside the four walls. It was bigger than it seemed, or maybe the winding vines and tall bushes that hid you in every corner made it feel more like a maze.
You let your eyes wander, a mirage of purples and blues bursting in between the brightest of green leaves. It seemed to overtake the greenhouse— it was clear there was very little maintenance on the inside, like they’d prefer to just let it run wild. It added to the atmosphere. It was almost a little
 romantic.
You swallowed the burning in your throat, and shut your eyes tightly.
“Hello?” You called out, and mentally slapped yourself. It felt stupid. He was in here.
Probably.
Oh, stars.
If he was the one that left you at the altar you think you’d just crawl into a hole and die—
“Around here.” The sound of his voice sends relief rushing through your veins. You followed the sound of it, the two words enough to set you on the right path. As you rounded the corner, you could see him nearly shining, and your chest didn’t feel as tight.
He was there. Looking exactly the same, but somehow completely different in the light of the greenhouse, compared to the dark hue of the Forge room.
The darkness suited him. He was more intimidating that way— a King head to toe. But here, he was more human to you. As far as you knew, he was human, but either way, he was more approachable. Simpler. Here, he was just a man in a pretty suit.
It was very, very pretty in this light.
“I have something to show you.” He says as soon as he sees you. He spits it out like it was a loaded gun in his hand, and the sight of you was enough to make him pull the trigger.
You don’t nod, or shake your head. You just freeze. Staring at him, he turns around, and there’s no words to mince for the feeling you get in your stomach. Fear, maybe, and a little bit of simmering curiosity. You don’t want to see him out of obligation, but for a fleeting second— just for a moment, you know what you want. That you’re curious. You want to see, and you let your eyes flutter—
“AH!” You hear it before you see it.
Two giant ears stick out the sides of the helmet, and then two clawed hands hand below them. When he turns around, you notice how Dins hands hold it gently. Whatever the hell it is.
Or rather, whoever.
All thoughts of the faceless man in front of you flood out for the first time in weeks. When two giant bug eyes whip around and stare at you, ears flapping with the movement, it’s impossible to have any thoughts other than—
“What
 what is that?” You say before you stop yourself. “Fuck. Sorry— I didn’t mean that. I just—“
“It’s okay. He’s my—“ The little green thing wiggles around in his arms and then promptly drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Foundling.”
“Oh. Oh!” You watch it stumble around, like it was formed out of proportion. The fast way it’s legs move seem out of alignment with its body, his head tipping forward, almost directing the rest of him, commanding it to follow.
With jagged movements, he ends up at your feet, where he promptly elevates upward, then plops back down again.
“Can he talk?” You say softly, not wanting to scare the little thing as you bend to his level. You look up to Din, who’s already watching you, and see him shake his head. “Well, that’s okay. I talk enough for the both of us.”
A metallic laugh echos from behind the small creature, and he babbles almost in response to it. The sound is infectious, making you grin as he waddles around, his ears tilting him to either side.
You reach out a hand, slowly, and instead of taking it he flies into you, resting in the crook of your arm. This angle gives you a better look, tiny hairs spiralling on his green head, a toothy smile and nearly wrinkled face. You’ve never seen anything like it before.
“He usually doesn’t take well to strangers.” Din says after a while, your body now curled half up on the floor to accomodate the tiny creature. “He likes you.”
“I can be very charming when I want to be.” You squint when you finally look up to him again, soft orange light pouring through the misted windows behind him. “He’s the little thing you were talking about, right? The found
”
“Foundling.”
“Right.” You stare down at it, watching its huge eyes blink at you, and the thing smiles. “Where the hell did you get him? I’ve never even seen
 I’ve never seen anything like him.”
“He was a bounty.” You look up at Din, and clearly he can tell you’re horrified. “I didn’t know who, or what he was.”
You watch the little creature, who trusts you far too quickly for something that was clearly hunted by the likes of a Mandalorian. He yawns, speaking in little, incoherent mumbles before his eyes blink slower.
“Who would want to hurt a little guy like this?” His tiny hand wraps around one of your fingers, and you’re pretty sure you’re heart bursts.
“They’re dead.” His words are sharp and sure. It sends a cool shiver down your spine, but it’s definitely not fear.
You look back up at him, standing, and taking a step closer. Din holds your eyes for a moment, like he’s waiting for something.
You know he’s lethal. You aren’t surprised to hear he’s killed— he was a bounty hunter, and is a King. Neither of those titles are won by clean hands, not to mention the Darksaber at his side. If someone crossed him, or tried to take one of the few things he seemed to care about, you anything but surprised to hear they ended up dead.
“He’s sleeping.” You say to break the silence, and your voice drags Dins eyes away from your own.
“Here.” He reaches out, moving so close to you that you can feel the heat of his body. His real body— through the soft parts of him not covered by armour.
He scoops the sleeping form from you, and turns around, and it’s then that you notice the only other thing in the room. A hovering shape that opens on command, only to shut and float behind him once Din places his foundling in there. He’s so gentle with him. A man who just admitted to slaughtering what you can only assumed is dozens of people who got in his way, he’s surprisingly soft when he wants to be.
“Thank you. For letting me meet him.” You say, unsure of what to do next. Your hands go behind your back, eyes tracing the long vines wrapped around the frames of the greenhouse.
“I can never get him to sleep, but when I want him to stay awake, he passes out.” He stands in front of you, and even hidden under ten pounds of armour, he looks as awkward as ever. Your face splits into a grin, laughter softly shattering the careful barrier between you. “I wanted you to meet him. He’s
 very important to me.”
“He’s very cute, too.”
“Grogu. That’s his name.” You try it out a few times, letting it familiarise itself in your accent.
“I like it. Nearly as much as Din Djarin. It has a nice ring to it.” You hum, and lean back against one of several wooden tables. It’s full of overgrown plants, some stretching onto the floor and splaying out under your feet.
Your hands dig into the wooden plank behind you, and the easy breathing from before is basically cut off the second he looks up at you again. It goes a little quiet, the whistle of soft wind floating over the top of the thin roof. You can’t stand the waiting around.
“Listen, you don’t
 I don’t know exactly what you were planning; but I’ll say whatever you need me to when we leave here. The last thing I want to do is start this partnership off on the wrong foot.” He doesn’t say anything, conveniently finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden. “They told me about what you are meant to
 do. And I don’t want you to— no, you don’t have to— can you say something so I can stop talking, please?”
Your heart was racing and you wanted to swallow your tongue if it would get you to stop throwing words around because yeah, maybe you did want him to take off that giant helmet because at the very least you’d be able to see if he was scowling or rolling his eyes or—
Laughing.
He was laughing at you.
Only a little, and you could only tell by the slight rise of his shoulders before he corrects himself and straigtens, but you catch it.
“Are you laughing at me.” You tilt your head, gaping slightly at him.
“No.”
“Asshole.” Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath. An easier breath.
“It’s okay. We— no one’s coming.” You sigh and nod your head. “You did good today.”
“Seriously?” Now you’re the one who laughs. “I nearly froze the second I got up there! If you weren’t up there I would have fallen on my ass. It was like all those helmets were staring into my soul.”
“It’s an old tradition, but they were happy to see it revived. The Forge is special to my people. You being there— they were glad for it.”
“And this?” You ask tentatively, curiosity nipping at your heels and urging you off the wall a little closer to him. “Is this all an old tradition, too?”
He readjusts with your new closeness, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he angles towards you, the crib his little baby was in only just visible behind his looming frame. He shrinks you with the long span of his shoulders, and you try not to let your eyes float lower.
“In the Old Ways, Mandalore observed very
 reserved marriages.” He shifts again, nearly brushing you, and your heart beats audibly loud. “In most cases, a marriage was simply a well cooked meal and a question with an answer.”
“They just asked to be married. That was it?” He nods.
“Someone would present a gift, or a meal, some who were more intimate than others might try to make it special. But in most cases, nothing would change. They would just be. As they were before, but forever linked by the knowledge they shared. We would never know if anyone was married if they didn’t write it down, or share it with members of their clan. It wasn’t something that was shared in small groups, and no outsiders could ever tell the difference.”
“I’m guessing they weren’t fans of PDA back then, either.” He shrugs, the movement brushing your arm. “So, how’d they get to this whole thing, then?”
“As the Old Way shifted with time, so did their customs. Partners became more common, and they felt there was something missing from their relationship. Something that set them apart from the other members of their clan.” You go to answer, and bite your own tongue again before you can. “Physical touch. Intimacy. Simple touches, a kiss—“
“Partners didn’t kiss in the Old Way?”
“They never removed their helmets. Not to anyone.”
“So how did they
” He stares at you. He was really going to make you finish. “Or they didn’t
?”
“They did. At least, at some point, in some way probably. But mostly, The Way uses foundlings as a foundation for our people. Most Mandalorians’ don’t have any blood relatives in their clans, and if they did, they might not even know.” You make a small ‘huh’ sound. “But when the times shifted, it developed into the marriage system we have now, at least in the Old Way. The newer Mandalorians take on a more universal form of marriage, but the Old Way is still changed. A Mandalorian is to never remove their helmet in front of another living thing.”
“Yeah. I know that part.” You smile and gesture to him, and he stares back. He doesn’t move, his focus deadly and on you.
“When you become a partner of that Mandalorian, you are no longer another being. You become
 one being. We remove our helmets, and all differences between us are bared. The things that keep us safe are torn away, and we rebuild to something new. Something connected— forever bound. You never take off your helmet in front of another living thing— but we are no longer seperate. They are a part of you until you take your last breath, and long past it.” You are spellbound. Mesmerised by his words— it’s the only way to describe it. He spoke so passionately about this, and it was hard not to feel the same. It was clear he took this very seriously, and although there was a bad taste in your mouth that you were taking this moment away from him, you couldn’t help but notice his word choice.
We are no longer seperate.
“You don’t have to show me.” You say softly, and he takes another step. He nods. “Ever. I wouldn’t take that from you.”
“This is The Way.” His hands hang by his sides.
“It’s not my way.” The slightest tilt of his head clues that you have his attention. “In my way of life, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And this— this is important to you. It should be something you share with someone special. Someone you care for.”
He says nothing, but his hands twitch just slightly, and for a second you think he’s going to go through with it.
“The only time I want you to take your helmet off, is when you want to. You’ve
 you’ve been kind to me. Respectful of my wishes, and I want to do the same.”
“I’ve done nothing.”
“And it’s enough.” It was true. He had done nothing to make you feel out of place, or uncomfortable. He’d pushed none of your boundaries, and he’d offered to help secure a lead to search for your parents killers. This
 it was the least you could do. “Besides. I’m traditional. If we’re going to do the whole ‘Way’ thing, we can do it the way those old dudes did. Helmet stays on. That’s the Way.”
“This.” He corrects.
“What?”
“This is The Way.”
“Stars. Okay, I’m going to whack you in the head with this olive branch I’m extending if you’re going to correct my grammar.” You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms in front of you. “So
 we’re good with this?”
He nods, and then says your name. His voice now is not wavering. It was full again, a brassy baritone surrounding the small space between you. “I had one more thing to say,”
You nod, and look down to your feet. He’d moved so close his beskar boots were nearly touching your toes. You didn’t move away.
“This is not how I saw myself getting married.”
“Great start.”
“I’m not— I’m saying it’s not what I imagined for myself. I’m not sure if I ever thought I would
” You nod. Wordlessly understanding. “When I agreed to this, I was still unsure. But, I I want you to know I have no doubts, now. Seeing you, hearing what my people think of you
 your planet, your family— I will be what you need. I swear it on Mandalore herself. As long as it serves us, we will rule together, as equals.”
“Equals.” You blink at him, enthralled. It’s hard not to be. When someone as stoic as him speaks so passionately about you
 it has an effect. Apparently, more of an effect than you were prepared for, because you find yourself having to think about the promises you made him yourself.
That this was just business. Just a professional contract.
“I want to rule with you. I won’t repeat my planets mistakes. I know an ally when I see one. A decent person. A good heart.” He faces you straight on, and it was the second time in the span of a few weeks you’d thought about how easy it would be for him to kiss you. If he was anyone else, you might have done it by now. “I want to do this with you by my side. And I want to be by yours.”
You didn’t have words. For a Queen that had an affinity for charm, to weave a web of intricate patterns of conversation and pull information out of the coolest of characters, Din Djarin left you utterly speechless. You couldn’t stop your hand as it reached for him.
He looked down instantly, watching the bare skin of your hand graze over the pauldron of his armour. The contrast did something to him. You know it. He locked onto it like a trained missile, tracking the light trace of your gentle fingers until they stopped just before his elbow. You shudder a breath, and whisper to him that you want that too.
His hand moves next, a calculated move that holds the wrist of your free arm. The shift means he has to step forward, bringing himself to press against you. Your eyelashes flutter, nearly brushing beskar, as he slowly tilts your arm up and intertwines your fingers. The melt of your hand in his rests between both your heaving chests, and he tries to speak. Whispers your name so lowly you wouldn’t hear it unless it was as deadly quiet as it is.
He raises your interlocked hands up higher, and there’s only one place they would be going. Only one destination that he’s chosen. When your knuckles bump lightly on the sharp edge of his helmet, you bite down your tongue. The cool beskar disappears as he moves your hands just a bit lower and dip them under
 and he’s soft there. A soft, giving material hidden under the hardest metal known to the discovered universe, and then he pushes you up.
The whole thing probably takes less than a few seconds, but time nearly slows to a stop with his hands in yours. He was going to show you what equals meant. He was going to show you him. Your chest was tight, body locked in a way that only the parts he was touching were lose and mouldable. You want to
 you want to see him. This is something you want, because he wants it.
Your own fingers stretch out, and the helmet moves half an inch upwards.
There’s a sliver of skin. A tanned, cut jaw that you catch, and you shuffle closer, entranced. It’s selfish and dangerous but you want to be closer, want to rip the helmet off him like a kid at christmas, impatient and shaking.
Just as you indulged your most selfish desire in the slightest, leaned forward so you could press the thin wave of your dress closer, an earth-shattering boom came from outside, and the sandy ash of the desert painted the entire world bright orange. You were thrown to the side, glass breaking under your weight as you went flying into the misted glass of the greenhouse. You heard him shout your name; something strong, something to cling to as your head slumped toward the concrete floors.
The last thing you saw was his gloved hands reaching for you before everything went black.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
Text
Chapter 27: New Life
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 1.1K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
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“Try not to get your ass kicked.” I smirk leaning against the door frame as Mando adjusts his rifle to his back, “Of course cyare.” He chuckles turning around. I hum as he presses his forehead to mine, “Come back alive Mando.” I tease, “Always.” He promises while the child coos at my feet, waving his tiny hand at Din. “Take care of you Buir ad’ika.” Din calls to the child, the child in question squeals his answer. Din turns to the group of men a few feet away waiting for him. I watch him leave with the child at my feet, his big brown eyes watching Mando disappear into the thick jungle. “What do you say Ad’ika? Let’s go see the tattoo artist? Surprise Buir with some new ink?” I grin, lifting the child into my arms, the child giggles in agreement.
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“What do you mean there’s no need? It’s tradition.” I huff looking up at the massive dead frog, classic Din right there. “I mean we need to start getting ready for the wedding, the hunt is the tradition, the making of the child’s things is merely something us women took to.” My mother hums from beside me. “You can’t be serious mom, that isn’t fair to Mando.” I huff, rolling my eyes, my mother sends me a pointed look, “I don’t know honey, looks like he’s quite pleased with himself.” She muses. My eyes snap over to Din and as he stands with the child in arms while he chatters with the men of the hunting party, I see the way his shoulders are raised and his chest puffed out with pride. “Alright.” I huff softly before turning back to walk to the hut.
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“Is this the house of the Mandalorian?” A voice calls from the door, Din glances over to me before drawing his blaster and making his way to the door. I watch him open the door with my hand resting on my blades, Din’s shoulders relax and open the door further. A larger woman steps into the room, one just as tall as Din and a bit of muscle to her. Behind her she pulls a large crate, “And you must be his Riduur.” She assumes looking over to me. I glance at Din hearing the term fall near perfectly from her lips.
“It has been many years since I’ve seen a Mandalorian, It is good to see that they have not died out,” She nods firmly in Din's direction, I watch her push the crate into my view, displaying the coded lock on the very front. “Are you, perhaps, a Mandalorian?” She questions, I straighten my shoulders, “I may not wear the armor but I follow the way.” I assure. She nods before leaning down and starts to press the buttons on the lock.  I stand from my seat when I hear the box click open, the woman moves away before opening it. I became breathless at the sight of armor inside, Mandalorian armor to be precise. 
“Where did you take this from?” Din questions once again pulling his blaster, the woman in question stood there looking down on the armor sadly. “It was mine.” she answers softly, “For a long time I wandered the stars, without a home, without a convert, without a clan. It became too much when I realized how old and alone I was.” She admits as she reaches down to pick up the helmet. The silver of Beskar with chipped paint of red paint.
“I came to this planet in the hopes of being able to have a home and a family, but it became clear I would have to choose between my future and The Way. I could not have both, for your people weren't as accepting as they are now, and as you may well know. Once you take it off
” she trails off, “You can never put it back on.” Din whispers. “Or so they say, but it was The Way I was taught.” She hums tucking the helmet under her arm, “There is only one Way.” Din argues. “Do not be so foolish as to think there is only one kind of something in this universe.” The woman warns, “Look at your foundling, he is a Jedi is he not?” She questions.
My blood stills at the knowing of the child’s powers, “Earlier today, I saw him move the pastries your mother put away. I was the only one to see, however I do advise you tell your child that he should not use his tricks so freely.” She warns, “I also advise against him joining the jedi order, the jedi do not form attachments, you are a weakness to him if joins the order.” She warns. “That is not The Way of Mandalore.” I whisper, “It is not.” she agrees. 
“In any such case, I will have no need for this. It is going to waste stowed away and what better purpose will it have than on the body of a Mandalorian. Unfortunately, I cannot give up my helmet, for it is the one thing I do wish to keep and one only receives the helmet when sworn in.” she offers softly. I look down at what remains of the armor, “Think of this as a New life gift, one that will serve you well in protecting your child. A gift not many may have these days.” She prompts gesturing to it with an open arm. “Is this
Allowed?” I question to Din, “Armor has
been passed down.” He nods slowly. I nodded and kneeled to the chest, reaching for the chest plate first, then the pauldrons, then arm braces, as well as the thigh guards, and shin guards. It’s all there, all except the helmet. 
“With this armor you shall follow the Mandalorian Resol’nare, Wear the armor, protect and raise your warriors, master your self defense, devote yourself to your clan, speak Mando’a, and answer the call of action. Even if you have not been sworn in you are now a Mandalorian.” She nods before turning to take her leave. I watch her leave from my place on the floor, her helmet tucked under her arm she nods to Din before stepping out of the hut. I let out the breathe I didn’t know I was holding, “Did that just really happen?” I whisper tracing my fingers over the Beskar, “I
Think so?” Din mumbles. “That didn’t really help, but thanks Cyar'ika.” I laugh, “Shouldn't you
Try it on?” He questions. I nodded wordlessly before standing up, ever so carefully Din helps me strap on the armor, once it’s all set in place he takes a set back.
The armor is surprisingly a snug fit, the woman must have been younger when she donned her armor. “Mesh’la.” I heard Din awe, I felt heat shoot to my cheeks. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. “The stars will go out before I forget about you.” I murmur softly 
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amiedala · 4 years ago
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SOMETHING MORE (the mandalorian x reader)
CHAPTER 22: I'll Come Back for You RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!) WARNINGS: violence, sex, the usual, as always tell me if you need anything else tagged!! SUMMARY: “No,” you cry again, but this time you go limp. You’re crying now, for real. The planet is crushing you. Or maybe the air. Or maybe it’s just your own broken heart, suffocating itself against your ribs.
“Nova,” Din whispers again, “Cyar'ika, you have to hide. You have to stay out of reach of Gideon, which means you have to stay out of reach of me. Hey. Hey. Listen to me.” You try to find your center of gravity, but you can’t. You tumble to the ground, tears hurtling down your cheeks. Din follows you, clinging to you all the way down. “You just need to stay away long enough for me to defeat Gideon, kill him, and get the Darksaber back to Bo-Katan. Once he’s dead, once this is over, I’ll come back for you. Do you understand me?” AUTHOR’S NOTE: i am just truly so sorry for this. i would say the usual "happy Something More Saturday!!!!!!!!!" but i broke my own heart with this one. angst lovers, this one is for you, fluff lovers (me included) i promise it's just getting worse before it gets SO much better, and that i have a very sold (and fast) plan to fix it. more notes at the end. i love you :(
*
In and out, the lightsabers pulse. It doesn’t just flicker and hum with the glow of a kyber crystal, Ahsoka’s blades themselves run in radiating beams of light. It might just be the atmosphere on Corvus, the way that the fog messes with the brightness, but they look infinitely more real than you remembered the one back on Coruscant looking. When you held that one in your hand, it felt like a weapon. Hers feel like a lifeforce, equally as strong and as radiant as the other.
Ahsoka’s demeanor is just as ebullient, even though it’s clear she’s just as determined as she is kind. She’s tall in stature, purposeful with the way she walks. She seems to know the planet inside and out, although you’re not quite sure if that comes from lived experience or Force intuition. Every step she takes is intentional. You’ve tried to muster up the courage to ask her questions, to understand how the Force works through her, but every time you do, something else makes it sink back down into obscurity.
All three of you are in awe of her. Din’s quiet is usually just as purposeful, but here, you can tell it’s because he’s trusting, and that he knows she’s the one to default to. His visor tracks her footprints against the dirt of Corvus. The baby is currently in your arms, ears perked up every time Ahsoka speaks or moves in a certain way. You’re just openly staring. You know you’re probably being rude, or at the very least making her uncomfortable, but you can’t help yourself. This is the closest you’ve ever been to a Jedi before, and you can feel the energy radiating off of her. It’s like the baby’s, only fine-tuned and amplified. That sort of mind-meld connection you have with him, all of that radio frequency is sharing one, unified thought—I love her.
The three of you follow her, deep into the foggy forest, and you can feel Din’s eyes lock onto you when you’re stepping over the roots, watching Ahsoka’s footfalls. He holds up a gloved hand to help you over the large and mossy ones, but other than that, you just track her movements, a strange, bound triumvirate. When you finally reach the hill that feels like her temporary home, you sit yourself down on a low rock, cracking all the ache out of your neck, heart hammering, trying to figure out what comes next.
It doesn’t. Not for a long while, at least. Din starts to fill the silence once, then twice, then three times, but Ahsoka just looks serene and quiet, gaze intense enough to stop anything, and his voice falters off somewhere inside the modulator. Her eyes are locked on the baby’s, all that blue counteracting his giant ones. You see the way his facial expressions move, how his nose twitches, and it’s like you’re remembering a fragment of a memory. They seem to be communicating in another language, or some frequency you can’t quite seem to tap into. The way that you and the baby have been talking, somehow, you know it’s different. This is a practiced act, something wizened and older than you are.
You exchange looks with Din every once in a while, just trying to stay quiet and not interrupt whatever Ahsoka and the baby are doing, but everything in you is a complete live wire. You can feel his gaze on you, just as sparking, just as bright. Everything feels huge and colossal in a way it didn’t before, like you can feel all these moments in time through the blips of your visions starting to lace themselves together into something tangible. Even in the fog, even with the residual sounds of the town you know is nearby, you can feel how loudly the energy is pulsing. Something in you tells you Din feels it, too, even without his own tether to the Force.
Ahsoka is serene. She’s tall and athletic, lean muscles that bulge whenever she flexes. Her lips are always pursed together, and her skin is somehow even more orange and beautiful in the foggy, low light. She’s clearly been from one end of the galaxy to the next, seen wars you’ve only heard about. Her sabers are slightly different shapes. You notice them whenever they catch reflection through the trees.
For hours, it feels like, you’ve been sat here. You slowly slide off the mossy rock you’re perched on, trying to stretch your legs out, shake the stiffness off them. Your new pants are getting dirty, which is a shame considering the hassle you and Din went through to get them, but you happily spread out on the ground, relieving the aching pressure as quietly as you can. He sits, finally, after realizing this whole interaction might take some time. He tries again to talk to her, and when Ahsoka just tilts her head to gaze deeper into the baby’s eyes, he gives up.
You can feel the sigh through the modulator from here. It’s become less about sound, now, and just the recognition that he’s sighing. Even though it’s long and heavy, you know how much of a relief it must be for the three of you to finally be here, to meet a Jedi who can train the baby. It’s the thing he’s been tasked to do for as long as you’ve known him, and after so many close calls with Gideon and the residual death that follows him around, you can feel the pressure radiating in waves off Din’s back. Before, the three of you were outnumbered and outgunned. But now, with Ahsoka? Now, you’ve got a fighting chance. One that might give you the opportunity to strike fast instead of running, dodging, and hiding.
Din pokes at your leg. You look up at him, squinting, smile filling up your whole face. Slowly, he slides down to the forest floor beside you, and you rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, just long enough to be intentional, and he leans into your touch. You don’t want to be loud, don’t want to do anything to startle Din or the baby or Ahsoka, but then Din’s pinky cinches yours at the knuckle, and you sigh happily. Even with the noises echoing from the town in unrest, even with your heart still racing from all the scrapes with Gideon and his henchmen on the last few planets, there’s something warm and bright here in this little nook in the woods. The light is low in the sky before you hear anything from Ahsoka and the baby, and you curl your knees into your chest, trying to quiet the grumble of your stomach.
“How long has it been?” you murmur, quiet enough that you thought Din would be lucky to catch it, even sitting up right against you, but then Ahsoka is the one to answer.
“Long enough,” she says, and you feel the rush of blood to your cheeks. “We had a lot to talk about.”
“Talk?” Din asks, silently making his way to his feet. “What did you—speak about?”
“Everything,” Ahsoka answers, voice still smooth and even. “He’s been looking for me for a long time.”
You glance back and forth between her and the baby. “D—did he know you before?”
She tilts her orange head at you, and you feel your breath catch in your chest. “No,” Ahsoka confirms, “but he’s been looking for a Jedi for some time now. Grogu seems to have found a family instead.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“Grogu?” Din repeats, head tilted, stepping forward. “Is that—?”
“His name,” Ahsoka answers, nodding. The baby—Grogu—coos from where he’s sitting, his big green ears perked up and attentive. He doesn’t really grin, just coos happily at you, but you see his small mouth break into a smile. You can feel his energy, how calm he is, how at peace he must be now that all three of you have your true names, your family unit together and truly whole. You quietly kneel down in front of where he’s sitting, and he grabs a hand at your necklace, swinging out against your squat and catching the low light. You let him thumb over the Rebel insignia, spending a few extra seconds pressing the pad of his finger into the star you carved on the back.
“Is that—” Ahsoka steps forward, and you turn your head to try and face her. She’s tall, determined, and when she squats right down beside you, she’s considerably larger, too. You stammer, realizing how close she is, how she’s a Jedi in front of you, someone who can feel the world in the same way that you can. It’s deafening, the rush of it. “It is. Are you a Rebel?”
Your breath gets caught in your throat. “I was,” you tell her, truthfully, “most of my life.”
She looks at you with pain in her eyes. It cuts through, sharper and brighter than the rest of her. It’s an odd look against her easy warmth, something deeper and striking than you’ve seen on her so far, but you can feel it. She is, too, even if she isn’t fully part of the Alliance. You have shared grief, and hers goes deeper than yours can even name.
Slowly, she stands back up from where she’s beside you, intense eyes locked back on Din. “You saved him,” she asks, but it doesn’t sound much like a question.
He nods. “Once upon a time,” Din confirms. “Truthfully, though, the kid—and Nova—save me more than I do them.”
Ahsoka turns, looking back at you. Quietly, you push off the ground. You’re clumsy, and there’s an ache in the middle of your thighs from where you and Din fucked on the floor last night, but when you’re finally standing, you nod against Ahsoka’s unasked question.
“I’m Force sensitive,” you whisper. You haven’t really ever said that out loud before, how heavy and residual the fact feels under your tongue. You nervously tuck a fistful of loos hair behind your ear, eyes oscillating between Din and Ahsoka. “I—is that a problem?”
Neither of them answer. You feel stupid. You know it’s a problem, that with the energy radiating through both you and the baby, you’re both vulnerable and very easy targets for a whole lot of evil. You know it lives, seeping and hungry, an insidious itch under your skin. You know how much danger the three of you have been in lately, how it plagues Din, how it keeps him restless.
“It’s going to make you accessible,” Ahsoka says slowly, her eyes flickering over to Din, just for a second, but long enough for you to gauge the meaningful look she gives him. “I could tell that Gideon—and the remnants of the Empire as a whole—want Grogu. They’re after him, and mainly him, so that they can experiment on him and take samples of his blood and cells. He understands that.”
You swallow noisily. In the distance, you can hear the fighting echoing from the neighboring city get louder, and, unconsciously, you take a step closer to Din.
“You,” Ahsoka continues, tilter her head in your direction, “are every bit as much of a target now that Gideon knows you can use the Force. You’re a bigger specimen, larger, complex. I don’t know what he wants with either of you,” she continues, crossing her muscled, slender arms over her chest, “but it can’t be good.”
“We—” you start, choking over your own words, “we know we’re in danger, I know I’m dangerous, because I’m
loud and untrained, and—”
“You aren’t dangerous,” Ahsoka interrupts, striding forward so that she’s closer to you. Maker, she towers over you, strong and lean. “You’re untrained, yes, and you’re very valuable to whatever Gideon’s plan is, but you aren’t a liability.”
The way she says liability, the way it fits in her mouth, immediately makes you look at Din. She’s angry, you understand, she’s angry because she thinks Din has told you you’re a reckless, loose cannon, and that you’re too close to every cliff edge that you’ve pulled the three of you back from, and you shake your head furiously, trying to assure her that isn’t the case.
“She’s strong,” Din says quietly. His voice, modulated and even, sounds distant. Unfamiliar. “Stronger than most.”
Ahsoka tilts her head at Din. “I can see that, just by looking at her. By being in her presence. But I think, somewhere along the way, somewhere between when you found both her and Grogu, and realized what danger they’d be in running from Gideon, you’ve forgotten her strength.”
You swallow again. Noisily. You can feel Din fuming, feel how hot and heavy he is, and you want to step in between the middle of the two of them, mitigate the conversation, try to diffuse any collateral damage. The baby coos next to you, and you lunge forward between the man you love and the Jedi you’ve just met, heart hammering. “This is helping no one—”
“You think I want to shelter her from every threat in this galaxy?” he snarls, and you blink at Din as he moves angrily towards you. “That I want to keep her in the middle of all of this? I don’t. I’d kill Gideon today if I thought it meant Nova and the kid—Grogu—wouldn’t be in danger. I would let her shoot every single bastard in his fleet to their deaths if it meant the two of them could live safely. I’d—I’d leave them on the safest planet of the galaxy and hide myself away for the rest of my life it meant that they could be free from this. I’m doing the best I can, and you have no right—”
“Stop,” you plead, facing towards Din completely, desperately throwing your hands up against the silver, armored chestplates, trying to stop him from advancing on Ahsoka. You can feel her hands against the hilts of her white lightsabers, and the absolute last thing in the world you want is to get a matching scar on the other side of your belly. “I mean it, stop. Fighting over this—over me—isn’t going to stop the problem at hand. You,” you whip around, pointing a raised, shaking finger at Ahsoka, “you’re a Jedi. You—you have the Force, you can teach the baby. Grogu. You can train him, and then he can show me.”
She starts to speak, but you twirl back to face Din. The careful braid you knotted up this morning has become frayed and undone, chunks of hair hanging in your face, brushing against your cheeks in the foggy, green haze. You try to find his eyes under the helmet. “You ever talk about leaving us somewhere ever again, I’ll shake the idea out of your beautiful, thick head myself. There’s no place in this galaxy where you can hide from me. I protect you, you protect me. That’s how this works, remember?”
Slowly, jerkily, he nods.
“Good,” you say, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than you feel, trying to stop your voice from wavering. “Teach him,” you repeat, looking at Ahsoka. All that darkness and flame that lit up her eyes a few minutes ago is gone. There’s a hardened edge there, but it’s not made out of steel. She doesn’t look angry. She looks exhausted, sad. You can see it in her posture as she drops your gaze, stepping closer to Grogu.
Din goes in to stop her, but you shake your head, and he lets his gloved hand drop listlessly down at the side. You’re not sure what she’s doing, and you’re even more confused that it seems like Grogu and Ahsoka have their own frequency, one that you can only catch distant warbles and static off of. Frustrated, you blow hair out of your face, stepping back to observe. Finally, she kneels down to the ground, picks up a pebble. Wordlessly, she shows it to Din, then to you, then to the baby. His big bug eyes are wide, unflinching. You know that he understands what she wants him to do before Ahsoka even says the words. He stares at it, tiny nose scrunching up against the task of trying to move the rock with his mind. For a few tries, it’s impossible, no luck. He’s distracted. Grogu keeps glancing back and forth over the three of you, to get permission that he doesn’t seem to have on his own.
“He doesn’t understand,” Din protests once.
“He does,” you and Ahsoka say in unison. Her tone is heavy. Yours is excited, like you can feel the way your heart is trying to keep in time with the words. And it’s true. The baby doesn’t follow commands well, especially when he’s decided he doesn’t want to, but this is different. You can feel the energy rushing through him, but he keeps breaking concentration to stare up at Din, and the pebble falls quietly against the mossy rock he’s sitting on, tumbling down to the earthen forest floor.
“Why isn’t he doing it?” Din asks, and you can hear how poorly masked the concern in his voice comes out.
“He wants your permission,” Ahsoka answers. Any of the fire that was in her voice earlier is completely gone now, like a flood just went through. She’s still intent, and she still has an edge to her, but it’s colored something more like determination than anger. “He needs it.”
“You can do it, baby,” you whisper, leaning down so that your necklace will swing out from under your covered collarbone again, something to fortify him, keep him balanced.
Your cheeks burn with the realization that Ahsoka was talking about Din’s permission, not yours, but your action seems to relax the baby’s little heart, his expression melting into something slightly softer.
“You can do it,” Din echoes, kneeling down in front of the three of you, a strange triangle made on Corvus’s forest floor. Grogu coos, trying to meet his dad’s eyes under the helmet. “Go on. You’ve got it. Take your time.”
You’re not sure how much time you have, really, because the noises of whatever’s going on in town keep increasing, and with how quickly those men appeared out of the thin, foggy air earlier, you’re on edge knowing that anything else could emerge with little to no warning. Nervously, you scan the treeline as Din continues to coax and encourage the baby, picking up the rock off the ground. You lean up against the tree immediately behind the three of them. Its bark is thick and coarse, and the branches hanging off every side are pointed and sharp, the leaves all budding and a dangerous shade of green. It’s exhausting, keeping an eye out on the potential enemies in the distance and trying not to miss what’s happening with Din and Ahsoka and the baby, if he could move the rock farther than a few inches.
Sleep is still encroaching the borders of your eyes, even though you were out for hours last night. The massiveness of the day is heavy and loud, and right now, it’s demanding all of your attention. You let your back brush up against the cold, course tree, cracking your neck free of all the ache again. When Grogu catches your eye again, you smile at him, nodding encouragingly. He still is having difficulty focusing on the pebble, so you step as far away s you can. You close your eyes, let everything drip down your spine and run out of you. You’re trying to just be, to not let anything heavy and dangerous slip in through the cracks, and it’s harder here. You wonder if it’s because there’s another, powerful Force-sensitive being around, or if it’s just sheer exhaustion doing you in, but one thing’s for certain, and it’s that it’s hard to pull yourself into a space where your mind is weightless. Eventually, though, you can feel it pull out of your head, and that wave of knowledge, serenity, and energy comes and crashes over you. In your head, you’re able to tell the baby to do it, gentle and coaxing, just like he was with you when you floated his ball for the first time. When he looks at you again, you feel something change. Before you even open your eyes, you can feel his gaze shift to Din’s, and your lashes flutter open to reveal Din giving the baby an encouraging nod.
The rock is airborne. It isn’t flickering, and it isn’t even really moving, but it’s enough for all three of you, who gasp and clap, breaking Grogu’s concentration. You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to wrangle everything back in, to restrain yourself so that he can keep moving forward, keep the pebble skyward.
He does. It’s shakily, and somewhat uncontrolled, but you watch as Grogu moves, letting the pebble levitate, then letting it come back and forth between him and Ahsoka. In a few tries, he’s got the rhythm of it, moving intentionally and slowly, letting the rock float through the air as unencumbered and free as his little metal ball does. You try to make yourself stay quiet, but you can’t help it. You clap excitedly as Din falls to his knees to get close to the baby, show him how proud of him his father is. You beam, watching the two of them, everything else rolling off your shoulders. This is the closest you’ve come to feeling free from the evil that lurks in the galaxy’s corners in months. Since you told Din you love him. Since he proposed. Since you’ve been aware just how much Moff Gideon wants to get his scary, manipulative hands on you or the baby to harness your power, leave you breathless, take everything for himself. It’s like there’s a bead of light in the place of where your heart is. It’s momentary, it’s fleeting, but it’s there, really there, at least for a second. Something to fixate on, to haul all three of you out of the darkness. Something to shine in the same way you do.
Ahsoka steps forward, and you catch her eye as she tilt sher head towards Din and the kid. You smile at her, completely, fully. She smiles back, just as easy. You still see that glint in her eye, that exhaustion, the way she stares at the three of you like she’s interrupting, like she’s something knife-shaped cutting through. You nod at her, just once, and you can tell she knows what you mean. There’s no hard feelings. She’s wise, and she’s seen probably three times as much of this fight as you have, and she’s still here, on the periphery, kind and unafraid to cut down things that are making the darkness bigger.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For helping us.”
Ahsoka studies you. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks. You want to thank her again, but everything your mouth starts tumbling out is stammering and silly. “I—what do you mean?”
“You’re an ex-Rebel engaged to a Mandalorian,” she murmurs, and you blink, trying to figure out how she put that together before you remember that she and the baby had a conversation through the Force earlier, and the little gossip probably told her everything. You smile, tucking your loose hair behind your ear. “You don’t seem like the bounty hunting type.”
You kick a bit of mossy earth with the toe of your boot. “I’m not,” you admit quietly. “I don’t like killing.”
Ahsoka steps closer to you. You gulp, looking up at her. You thought Din was intimidating, that his stature was enough to make anyone not confident enough to look him in the visor run screaming. But as calm as Ahsoka is, how warm her heart beats, she’s just as fierce. A protector. A defender. A fighter. “Is that why you dropped out of the Alliance?”
You nod, slowly. “Sort of. My parents died on a mission, and I never really came back from that. I—I grew up on Yavin,” you continue, fingers absentmindedly finding your necklace. “On base. And it never felt like home after that. By the time they died, we were so close to winning, anyways, and once the Death Star blew, I left. I wanted to help people,” you say, your voice barely catching in the wind, “and I’m an excellent pilot, but I never liked shooting anyone down. Still don’t. I left, met some dangerous people, fell in their path, and barely made it out.” You swallow noisily, realizing how much you’re sharing. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling—”
“No,” Ahsoka encourages, tilting her head at you. Din and the baby are still practicing over with the rock, and he’s gleeful, showing off to his dad. “I’m curious. Please continue.”
“I was just a runner for a while,” you say, leaning back against the bark of the tree. “I moved food and drink and resources in the Outer Rim from one place to another. Before long, though, I started picking up people in bad situations, ones like I was in myself. I didn’t charge them anything, just shuttled them to nearby planets to help keep them safe from whatever they were running from.” You watch as Grogu lifts the rock in the air again, smiling faintly at him in the distance. You feel a lifetime away from the disbelief and betrayal on Din’s face when he saw you doing the same thing, your heart swelling with how he’s watching your kid in all his strange, magical, little, green glory. “I crashed my ship on Nevarro, which is where D—Mando picked me up. He told me he was just going to get me off the planet, that he’d drop me somewhere safer, but then I just ended up sticking around. Then we fell in love instead.” You mouth shapes a smile around the word love. “I know we’re in danger,” you say, urgent and quiet. “I know that we’re both liabilities. And I know we won’t be out of trouble for a long while, at least until we can get the Darksaber back from Gideon at the very least. But I’m not running,” you say, lifting your chin, resolved, into the air. “I’m not running. And I don’t know what kind of time you have, or what you can teach the baby and I,” you continue quietly, looking straight into Ahsoka’s eyes, “but I do know this is the closest I’ve felt to something that feels like winning in a long time.”
She’s quiet. It’s like she’s peering into your soul, spending time dissecting your every bone, every current your blood runs through. It takes everything in you not to waver, not to falter under her gaze, but you hold it. Finally, Ahsoka faces you head on, and she smiles. “You’ve still got something a lot of people in this galaxy don’t, Nova,” she says.
You blink. “What’s that?”
Ahsoka looks at Din and the baby, then back at you. Her gaze over you is still intense, but you can tell it’s because she likes you, because she sees a fierce spirit to you that nothing ever got close to stomping out. She lifts her chin to match yours. “Hope.”
You want to thank her, want to do anything to signify how that fortification alone feels huge enough to make everything in you swell and sing, but you don’t have a chance. An arrow shoots out of nowhere, and Ahsoka’s orange hand lunges forward, lightning quick, to knock you in the middle of your chest right below your collarbone, moving you away from the impact. You fall to the ground, scraping the heel of your hand against the rough bark of the tree root, skittering back out of immediate danger.
As if it were nothing, Din’s got both hands on his blaster and Ahsoka’s unsheathed both of her white blades, and you grab for the baby as they go running in the direction that a cacophony of blasts are heading from, and you duck and cover. It’s not your best move, but it’s the smartest one, at least until you can see where the fight is and be strategic about it. You don’t have the Crest, and you don’t have control, or lightsabers, or a whole artillery strapped to bulletproof armor, but you have your head. You pull your cloak up and around your face, covering the tops of your exposed shoulders and the gathering of hair, and you grab the baby and tuck him under the cloth. It’s not perfect, by any means, but with the atmosphere of Corvus being emerald and foggy, your faded green hood is enough camouflage to sneak closer and closer to the battle. You can’t see Din, and all you have to find Ahsoka is the hum of the blade and the screams of the attackers in the dark and you duck down as low as you can, pulling Grogu off your chest so you can look at him.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” you hiss, over the noise, “do you understand me? I’m just going back there to get my blaster.” You gesture back to where you were leaning against the tree, the weapon that’s supposed to be strapped against your thigh laying on top of the mossy earth. “I will be right back,” you whisper, holding his face between both of your palms, “I promise, Grogu, okay?”
He nods. You nod back. You’re not stealthy, and you’re not particularly fast, but there’s something about this planet, something about all this green and the baby’s energy and the way Ahsoka holds command that makes you feel invincible. You don’t sprint. You don’t try to run, either, because you don’t know how covered you are by the fog that’s drifting closer and closer to you. You don’t have an armada. You don’t have clear access to the ship. But you’re better this way, on the fly, focused by adrenaline instead of your anxiety of what’ll happen next get into your head. You lunge against the mossy ground for your blaster, and when you pick it up, you start running back to where you’ve hidden the baby, stronger with a weapon in your fist. Someone, tall and clad in dark clothes emerges from the fog, and even from a distance, you know that they don’t match either of the people who are defending you and Grogu right now, so you stop to steady your grip against a rock, and you take aim.
The person roars when your bullet ricochets off the boulder they’re kneeling in front of, glaring wildly, trying to find you. You see the baby’s big eyes widen and close back down when he spots you, and you nod the best you can lodged behind a safe hiding place. The person starts roving forward, and you roll your eyes when you see it’s a man stomping around, trying to find where you’ve hidden.
“You’re a shit shot!” he yells, and you can feel the hum of Ahsoka’s sabers. She’s close, you can sense it, and you close your eyes, clicking the safety off the blaster as you stand up enough to take aim again. He’s looking the opposite way, so you spring up, bending your knees slightly, locking your arms and your grip into place. When he turns around again, he’s against the barrel of your blaster, and he gasps as you push the could maw of it against his temple.
“Don’t think I would be now,” you say, in a voice so much more level than how you’re feeling. “Wanna test your theory?”
He shakes his head, you raise an eyebrow. Maker, it’s like he’s actually scared of you. You, Novalise. You, overemotional hopeless romantic that can’t make a shot to save her life. You, Her Highness Rebel Rouser Pilotess of the Outer Rim. At that and that alone, you steal a small smile when he closes his eyes.
“Why are you here?” You ask, tilting your head at him. “You’re trying to hurt us, take my son. Why?”
“The magistrate,” he says, lifting both hands sky-high. “She wants the Jedi. The orange woman. With the lightsabers.”
“I know whom she is,” you interrupt, shooting the baby a warning glance to stay where he is, camouflaged against the green, mossy rock. “Why does she want the Jedi?”
He shrugs, and you press the barrel of your gun a little closer into his scalp. He raises his hands even higher, so you let the pressure go, still staring down the gun to act like you’ll drop him at any second, even though you have literally no desire to shoot someone ever again. You step back, not much, but enough to plant your foot in a better spot, and you let him look down the blaster to coax him to answer. “Don’t know. We want her out of here. The magistrate. Their whole group is awful, holding the city of Calodan captive. Figure getting the Jedi out of here might placate her long enough for bargain for our city back.”
“You look pretty capable,” you counter, looking at the gun he’s dropped on the ground, gesturing to the arrows parked in the middle of the trees surrounding you. “Why wouldn’t you just attack them? Form a mutiny?”
He doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, and you sigh, dropping your grip just a little. It’s too much, though, stupid. The second you aren’t staring him down with the gaping mouth of your blaster anymore, he lunges for you, knocking you and your weapon to the ground. It doesn’t hurt, since the terrain is all grass, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of you, and he’s taken your blaster and kicked it off somewhere you can’t see, making a beeline for the baby.
“Help!” you scream, picking yourself off the ground, running, winded, back to where he’s heading for. You could kick yourself, but you’d probably trip over your own foot, so you keep going. He’s taller than you, and he clearly has more practice at running than you do, so you’re barely gaining speed when he picks up Grogu. He shrieks with being suddenly airborne, and you thunder your feet across the ground as fast as you can. You keep yelling loudly for Din and Ahsoka, because now you’re totally weaponless, and that piece of cowardly shit has your kid, and then you stop short, remembering you may not have a weapon, but you have something.
You clear your mind. Everything rushes backwards out of you. It’s still hard to make everything quiet in the midst of so much danger and noise, but you’re better at it now. Raising both hands, you focus, eyes snapping back open. You move, just slightly, and the man stops midair. He’s still trying to get the baby away, and he’s much stronger than you are, but then Grogu makes eye contact with you, determined and strong, and you nod, somehow knowing exactly what he’s about to do.
The baby bites down on the man’s arm. Hard. A real chomp, one he usually reserves for frogs and the food that’s supposed to be for you and Din. The man howls as he drops to the forest floor, and you lunge for Grogu as his abductor is stopped in his tracks. You give him a good stomp on his left foot, grabbing your blaster off the floor. He looks up at you with wide eyes, and you see how scared he is, so you decide to have a little mercy. “Don’t take what doesn’t belong to you,” you say, firmly, “and focus all your energy on taking back what’s yours instead.” He nods. You flick your finger back to stun and shoot him. It catches him in the belly, so he won’t be out for long, but it’s enough time to swaddle you and Grogu back up in your cloak, make your way through the edges of the fog that’s a lot quieter than it was s minute ago.
Your eyes aren’t the best on a good day, so you’re squinting and making shapes out of nothing. When you collide into Din, he has to clap a gloved hand over your mouth to stifle your shriek. The second he knows you aren’t going to be a red flag in the middle of the darkness, his hands moves off your lips and caresses against your cheek instead. You sag, letting him keep you upwards.
“That was some good fighting, cyar’ika,” he mumbles, and you feel your heart doing cartwheels in your chest.
“I learned form the best,” you manage, trying to wink but accidentally closing both of your eyes. “What’s the plan?”
Quietly, Din pulls the three of you behind another mossy stone. From this vantage point, you can see the mass of soldiers the two of them have taken down. Up on the parapet, there’s a shrouded figure with a thin, sharp metal spear. Your eyes narrow, knowing exactly who’s up there—the magistrate and her evil eye making sure that there’s bloodshed outside the city walls.
“Ahsoka’s clearing the last of them now,” Din whispers, and even modulated and quiet, his voice still sends shivers through you. “You’re going to sneak through the gate of the city with her and the kid.”
You blink at him, doing a double take. “Me?”
Din stares at you through the visor, tilting his head. “You proved yourself, Novalise. I trust you to be quick and quiet enough to sneak through undetected.”
You nod, butterflies soaring to life in the middle of your stomach.
“Besides,” Din adds, clicking the safety off his blaster, the noise muted against the rough fabric of his glove, “there will be three of you. And you all have powers.”
You smile at him. “The Force.”
“Looks like powers,” Din shrugs. Out of nowhere, Ahsoka appears behind you, equally as stealthy and silent as Din is. You smile at her. “Get ready.”
“Wait,” she says, cutting one orange hand through midair. “She’s going to shoot at you.”
Din nods. “The armor can take it.”
Ahsoka looks him up and down, disdainful. “She has a beskar spear.”
Din, who was about to emerge from a crouched position to stand straight up, a shiny force to be reckoned with through all the fog, sinks back down. “What?” The word is low and dangerous in his mouth.
“Listen,” Ahsoka says, urgently. “It’s yours. I have no use for it. You help me defeat her, you get the spear and I’ll
” her gaze lands on you and the baby as she trails off. “I’ll find someone to train both of them.”
“But I thought you—?” you start, but then arrows and blasts are being hurdled through the air again, and Ahsoka pulls you and the baby around to the side, where a cover of trees mixed with the nightfall and the ominous grey still hanging in the air will keep the three of you sheltered enough to make it through the gate undetected. You place your hand over your heart, looking at Din, who nods at you just for a second before he comes out of hiding, guns ablaze, in full Mandalorian mode. As promised, you, Ahsoka, and Grogu are able to make it through the gate without anyone catching sight. The city is small, desolate. It’s quiet, eerily so, and you think that if it weren’t caught between captivity and war, it would be beautiful. All the green from outside has evaporated in here, the streets looking shoddy and destroyed. You follow against the wood of the buildings, keeping only a few paces behind Ahsoka. Her grip on her lightsabers is light but intentional, ready to strike at any minute. The three of you sneak through the majority of the city undetected. When you’ve reached the border of what is clearly the magistrate’s headquarters, she signals for you and the baby to standby. You nod, ducking back against the buildings as she fights her way through the guards. Slowly, silently, she beckons for you to follow her, and you do as quietly as possible, trying not to take stock of the dead bodies on the ground.
It is beautiful in here, just as you predicted. You stay close behind Ahsoka, eyes darting up and around to watch for anyone who might try to hurt you. It’s dark but the greenery is lush and alive, and you run the tips of your fingers over the petals of flowers before you sit in the cloak under a big, sprawling tree, letting the baby out from under your cloak so he can see, too. Eventually, your gaze drifts over to Ahsoka. She’s regal, tall, shoulders set and back. Down the middle of this part of the city is a long slab of granite, dark and glassy. It cuts through a reflecting pool, and your heart lurches as you realize where you are.
In the visions, any that you’ve had that go farther than Ahsoka shrouded here with her sabers, this is where you’re trying desperately to get to Din, to see your panicked face in the beskar. Worriedly, you try to stand, knees wobbling, and when he steps through the doorway, your heart seizes in equal parts relief and terror. Ahsoka stares at him, and you want to start running towards him, shield him with your own body, but you’re frozen in place. Before you can start to shake the fear loose, another figure spears behind Din, pointing the tip of a beskar spear against the unsheathed part of his neck, right where his helmet meets his armor. It’s the only place that’s really left uncovered, just a sliver of skin at the nape of his neck, right before his head meets his spine, but if you know it’s there, it can be fatal. Your stomach is heaving, stormy and dangerous. You want to run to him. You want Ahsoka to use her lightsabers to cut the magistrate down. You want to know enough about the Force to use it, to get the magistrate away from the man you love, but as much as you denied it earlier, you are a loose cannon. You’re good at moving things. You don’t have much practice in saving them.
Ahsoka shoots one glance your way, but you know what it means, even in the dark. Stay put. You shrink back in the shadows the tree gives off, pulling the baby quietly up against your chest. No one knows you’re here except for her, so as long as you don’t give it away, you’ll have the high ground. You watch, heart in shreds, as the magistrate pushes Din forward.
“You have a choice,” she says, voice so smooth, so full of ice, “between the Mandalorian and the freeing of the city. You want Calodan back? I kill him. You want him alive? You leave this planet forever.”
Ahsoka’s eyes narrow. “An ultimatum? Weeks of you trying to kill me, to have your captives hunt me down in exchange for their lives, and all you have for me is an ultimatum?”
“It’s a choice, Jedi,” the magistrate spits. You move forward, enough that you can pull your blaster out of the holster. You aren’t stealthy, but the noise of it is quiet enough to be hidden by their conversation and the proximity to your vantage point. “A compromise.”
“No,” Ahsoka counters levelly, stepping forward with her lightsabers. The hilts are still unsheathed, and you watch carefully for the flick of her thumbs to bring them to life. “A compromise would mean me leaving you alive. I can dangle death, too. You just have to fight me for it first.”
You feel your eyes bulge open in the dark, impressed. She steps forward again, unflinching. She doesn’t even look scared to face the woman that’s holding your fiancé’s life in her hands, and normally, that would both you, but right now? Right now, you’re just marveling. Ahsoka’s a badass.
“Fight me for it, then,” the magistrate seethes, and Ahsoka raises an eyebrow, igniting both blades. You gasp at how they hum and pulse, the white blade both dangerous and serene. When she lunges, the other woman takes the spear off of Din’s pressure point. If you were faster, this is where you would have lunged, but he rolls, sweeping a leg underneath the magistrate’s feet. She avoids them midair, but when he kicks at her coming down, she stumbles. You thumb the safety off, still hiding in the shadows until they need you. For people who just met today, it’s clear that Din and Ahsoka know each other’s rhythms, how they move. It’s like watching a dangerously choreographed dance, all three partners wicked and fast. The other woman is clearly skilled, almost on the level of th both of them, because she’s able to both defend and attack in the same swing. Wordlessly, she swipes through the air. She catches Ahsoka’s skin with the beskar blade, and Ahsoka hisses and kicks just as dangerously, swiping the blade of her own saber over the blood to cauterize it and then swings with it as she yells. You’re in awe of her. Between her blades and Din’s armor, you’re completely mesmerized. There’s not a chance in hell that you would be a match for any of them, so you just watch with the baby safe behind your body. For minutes, it seems, the three of them fight, sharp and quiet. You watch Ahsoka swing the sabers through the air. When the magistrate tries to kick the one out of her left hand, she tosses it overhead to Din, who, amazingly, catches it and swings back in the same momentum she gave him. For a minute, it looks like they have the magistrate cornered, but when she falls to the ground, you’re right in her line of vision.
You panic. You don’t know what to do. Your heart is caught in your chest, and you know she sees you. Din and Ahsoka are so preoccupied with keeping her down that they don’t notice the magistrate’s hungry, dark gaze on you, and you’re frozen. When she gets to her feet again, it’s like she has a whole new wind. She strikes Din down viciously, and you can hear the beskar tearing into his flesh, over a just-healed cut on his leg. He roars as he drops, and you silently make the baby agree to stay hidden. You sprint towards him, throwing all caution and stealth to the wind, just trying desperately to make it there in time to get him off the ground. You scream at the magistrate, a slew of curses in every language you know, sliding across the smooth tile of the ground. Over her head, Ahsoka throws you one of her sabers, still ignited, and somehow, despite all odds, you catch it. It flickers in your hand and you stare down at Din, trying to steel yourself for what you have to do again.
“Now,” he pants through the helmet, “do it, Nova, do it—”
You do. You press the lightsaber down on his cut, just for a second, and he cries out with the cautery, going limp on the floor. You don’t have any time to make sure he’s more okay than that, though, because the magistrate is charging straight after you. Before you can turn, you feel her hurl the spear, the beskar whittling through clean air as it soars towards you, and you catch your terrified expression against Din’s armor before you lift your hand, bracing for the fatality of the impact, knowing that at the very least, you saved the man you love and the kid you share.
But the spear doesn’t come. It doesn’t pierce you straight through. After a minute, you open your eyes, looking around. You, Ahsoka, and the baby all have your hands up in unison, freezing the spear midair. Relieved, you exhale, breath shaky, letting the spear clatter against the pavement. The magistrate makes a desperate attempt to reach for it, but you’re quicker. For once, you’re quicker, and you lunge for the spear, and when you’re back on your feet, exhausted and bloody, you have Ahsoka’s lightsaber in one hand and the beskar spear in the other. She doesn’t move. She looks up at you with filth and anger, and you press the point of the spear to her open neck. She doesn’t recoil.
“Nova,” Ahsoka whispers, over the pulsating thumb of her saber. “It’s not worth it.”
“It is if she’s going to terrorize people again,” you hiss, raising the saber up with conviction. “I could make it quick. Fast. Better than she deserves.”
“You could,” Ahsoka levels. You don’t dare take your eyes off the magistrate, her evil gaze. “Or you could walk away and let me do it.”
“She deserves it,” you spit again, but already, your conviction is fading. You feel the spear being tugged out of your hands, and you whirl around with your arm raised, ready to strike someone down, but it’s just Din, and you sag. You can feel the magistrate ready to lunge, and you aren’t in the place to defend yourself, so you just look up at Din, terrified, making your peace with death for the second time in the matter of a minute. But before you can die, before anything, he’s stabbed the spear unto the shoulder of the magistrate’s right hand, and she drops, writhing against the ground, screaming bloody murder.
“She deserves to fall from grace,” Din grunts, “with no iron fist to cling to or come back with.”
Silently, Ahsoka reaches down to cauterize it. You look away, sheathing her lightsaber and tossing it back. Wordlessly, exhausted, you stumble over to Grogu and shoulder him against your chest. The four of you make your way over the magistrate, who’s knocked out on the ground, and go through the gates. A small gathering of citizens are there to greet you, terrified and just as tired as you feel.
“She won’t be in charge anymore,” Ahsoka says softly, voice firm. “I’ll stick around for long enough to make sure of that, and then you can restore Calodan to its former glory without any oppressive regime.”
“Thank you,” one woman manages, and you can see the tear sin your eyes. Ahsoka smiles, nods, beckons you to follow her. Slowly, you tread back to the Crest, everything in your bones weak and sleepy. You want to fall asleep in the shower. You want to fall asleep with your head on Din’s lap. You’d fall asleep on the ladder if it meant you could spend ten hours without being awake anymore. When the gangplank gets lowered, you don’t have the energy to even make it up the few steps to your bed on the floor. You just drop right there, holding onto the baby.
“Are you coming?” Din asks Ahsoka, and you look up to find her gaze, calm and kind, on you.
“No,” she says, decidedly, eyes still on you and Grogu. “I can’t train them. They both have emotional attachments to you, and to each other. I’m not going to be the one to stop that.”
Din starts at her, but you raise a tired hand. “Are there any Jedi left who will train us?”
Ahsoka’s gaze is so full of intention you don’t have the energy to decode. “Yes,” she answers, finally. Go to the planet Tython. It’s strong in the Force. Call out to other Jedi, and anyone who hears it will come for you.”
“Thank you,” you say. You’re so tired, you could fall asleep on the spot. You want to thank her for everything, but you can barely keep your eyes open, and hope your two words convey enough gratitude for Ahsoka to feel it radiating.
Ahsoka steps closer to Din. “Gideon is coming,” she whispers, lowly. “I know he gave you an ultimatum. I know he’s going to try and take them, btu I also know he’s ruthless enough to discard one of them to keep you distracted and to cut you down.”
If you were more awake, you’d be concerned, but you listen to Din’s intentional, determined voice, and something about his tone makes you think that he’s telling Ahsoka the same promise he’s always made you—he’ll protect you, Gideon won’t touch you, that nothing evil and Imperial can cut through him. She nods, kneeling to brush a light hand over your messy hand and boop the baby’s tiny nose, and then you’re being carried up the ladder. Eventually, you feel the ship take off, and Din comes back to sit against your wall with you, bacta patches in one hand and his helmet in the other.
You mewl at him, reaching to touch his beautiful face, to tangle your fingers hungrily through his messy hair. He lets you get as close as you want, and after you pull off his pants, with the intention of dragging the both of you to lay in the shower together, he pushes one of the bacta patches into your hand. Wincing, you see how deep and nasty the cut was, and how messily you cauterized it. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice uneven, and he waves a hand at you, just wanting you to fix the patch over the whole thing to try and let the bacta work its magic. You do, and you slump against Din’s chest, half-naked and exhausted. Eventually, you feel him move out from under you, arms strong and secure around your waist, and you let Din carry you up and into the fresher. You’re on the floor while he turns on the hot water, and the second that you can touch the warmth of it you stand up, letting the pressure rinse over your face, your aching muscles, stripping away as much pain and exhaustion as it possibly can.
When Din comes in behind you, you just turn around to look at him. His own eyes are tired, his beautiful hair getting wetter as you pull him into the stream, dragging the pads of your fingers over his shoulders. He sighs against your touch, pressing his own hands into the small of your back, trying to release the pressure. You’re not sure when he gets hard, when you feel him inside you, but it’s desperate and needy, and he’s leaving an artillery of kisses down your neck. His mouth sucks on and off you, marking your skin. Din’s hands, large and tan, grip either side of your hips to hoist you up, to rock every inch deep inside you. Before tonight, sex always felt like a gratitude, a reprieve. Even the hot and heavy times in the last few weeks have felt more like a thank you, like it’s something both of you want and give each other. Tonight, with the way Din’s burying himself in you, it feels like it’s the last time. The gravity of it, the sharpness, it all feels too heavy.
“My sweet thing,” he moans into your mouth, ricocheting off the walls and up into your ear. “I need you, n—need you to—my sweet thing. He hasn’t called you that in months, not since before Dagobah, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’re not sure why you’re even crying, but with how desperate he is, with how he’s groveling, begging you to let him fuck you, it makes everything in you feel like it’s going over a cliff.
“You have me,” you murmur, punctuated by his thrusts, but it sounds like a reminder and not like an encouragement. When he’s ready, he looks at you through the water and steam, and you nod, afraid to speak in case your voice comes out hollow and fucked. Din thrusts down as he fucks into you one last time, gasping with the intensity of his orgasm, and when he lets you down he takes the showerhead and rinses between your legs, dragging the soap that smells like him over your skin.
You’re both so exhausted that you don’t even bother redressing when you get out of the shower. You just stumble, a two-headed animal, to the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, and when Din brings you close against your chest, there’s something still so raw and hungry inside both of you. You can feel it, the despair, the dread, the sucking feeling of something being wrong in the air. But you’re too exhausted to talk about it.
“I’m here,” you repeat into the darkness, heart hammering in your ears.
“I know,” Din allows, but he sounds so faraway, so distant. If you weren’t this tired, you would cry, you would beg him to tell you what’s wrong, what he’s hiding from you, but all you can do is push your nose in the crook of his neck to fall asleep, hoping all that darkness will have been turned over by the time you both wake up.
It feels like minutes when you do, but you know it’s been over a day. You feel the Crest hurtle out of hyperspace, and you drag yourself to the fresher to rinse your sleep-filled mouth out with water. By the time you redress and make your way up the steps, you’ve already landed. It’s just about dawn, as far as you can tell, and your eyes are still full of exhaustion from the day before. You sit down next to the baby, and when he reaches for your necklace, in your stupor, you unhook it from your neck and give it to him to hold on to until you make your way out onto Tython’s surface. Din’s suiting up, grabbing everything and sticking it back into place, and you let your hair loose, swinging around your face as you crack your neck to relieve the pressure. You’re still half asleep as you follow Din down the ladder. His helmet isn’t on yet, and you reach up for a sleepy kiss. He returns it, mouth full of desperation and urgency and everything he was made out of last night.
In retrospect, that right there should have been the first sign. Maybe not the first indication that something was seriously wrong, but the way he touched you, the way he drank your face in, the way he fucked you in the shower. Like it was the last time. You follow Din down the gangplank, the same way you’d follow him down the aisle, or follow him into battle. Determined, protected, lovingly. But when your boots make contact with the ground, you realize that you aren’t on Tython. It should have been obvious. And if you hadn’t exerted every ounce of energy in your body the day before, protecting yourself and your family from someone trying to eviscerate you, you would have known exactly where you were.
Your eyes widen around the familiar greenery of Dantooine. You’re on the other side of the planet than you were the last time you were here, where Din killed Merle and ignored everything in him to kiss you anyways. Your heart is hammering as you look around, eyes darting back and forth from Din and the Crest, where the baby is hovering in his cradle. The tears come before the knowledge of what’s happening does.
“Wait,” you manage, your voice shattered. “W—what are we doing on Dantooine?”
You’re right on the forest’s edge. You can see the city through the foliage, just a few klicks away. You look wildly back at Din, trying to scry the look on his face past his helmet. Your heart is a staccato in your chest, everything in you screaming that this is wrong, that you’re misinterpreting the situation, that this is a dream/
“Nova,” Din starts, and you shake your head at him, violently. “Novalise, listen to me.” When he grabs for your face, you sob, loud and unashamed. “Gideon is going to keep coming.”
“I—know,” you say, thrashing against his grip. “I know that, Din, I know—did you see what I did back there on Corvus? I can help! I can s—stop him, I can protect us—”
“No,” he says gently, “no, Nova, you can’t. Because if you’re with me, you’re the one he’s going to kill. He’s not going to capture you. He’s not going to keep you alive for long enough to fight back. He’s going to use you to break me, to get the kid.”
“No,” you cry again, but this time you go limp. You’re crying now, for real. The planet is crushing you. Or maybe the air. Or maybe it’s just your own broken heart, suffocating itself against your ribs.
“Nova,” Din whispers again, “Nova, you have to hide. You have to stay out of reach of Gideon, which means you have to stay out of reach of me. Hey. Hey. Listen to me.” You try to find your center of gravity, but you can’t. You tumble to the ground, tears hurtling down your cheeks. Din follows you, clinging to you all the way down. “You just need to stay away long enough for me to defeat Gideon, kill him, and get the Darksaber back to Bo-Katan. Once he’s dead, once this is over, I’ll come back for you. Do you understand me?”
You’re not coherent. You want to scream, you want to barter, you want to plead. You want to do so much, but all you’re capable of is sitting there and crying, breaths long and dragging, the air barely getting in your lungs. “Please don’t leave me,” you sob, finally, and Din deflates too.
“Nova, I’m supposed to protect you,” he says quietly. “This is for your own good. It’s selfish of me to keep you close when I’m the one putting you in danger. You—” he stops, sighing. The baby is crying now, too. Your heart keeps breaking in your chest. Every time you realize what’s happening, it shatters again and again. “I’m going to kill Gideon. I’m going to protect you.” You’re still a mess on the ground. Din drags something over to you, and you realize it’s your bag, stuffed with food and bacta and credits. You just cry, trying to scream, but it’s like all the noise has drained out of you. “I’ll come back for you,” Din repeats, and then he’s gone. The ship is boarded and in the air before you can move, and you finally, finally scream, but it’s drowned out by the thrusters. You sob, loud and horrible, like a wounded animal, as the dust settles around you. You reach for your necklace only to realize it’s still in the baby’s fist. Every shred of proof of the people you loved is gone, off in the stardust somewhere while you’re stuck here, grounded and drowning, heart broken in your chest, crying out for all four members of your family lost out there in the crush of space.
*
TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando | @cosmicsierra | @misssilencewritewell | @rainbowfantasyxo |  @thatonedindjarinfan | @theflightytemptressadventure | @tiny-angry-redhead | @cjtopete86 | @chikachika-nahnah | @corvueros | @venusandromedadjarin | @jandra5075 | @berkeleybo | @solonapoleonsolo | @wild-mads | @charmedthoughts | @dindjarinswh0re | @altarsw |  @weirdowithnobeardo | @cosmicsierra | @geannad | @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al | @burrshottfirstt | @va-guardianhathaway | @starspangledwidow | @casssiopeia | @niiight-dreamerrrr | @ubri812 | @persie33 | @happyxdayxbitch | @sofithewitch | @hxnnsvxns |  @thisshipwillsail316 | @spideysimpossiblegirl | @dobbyjen | @tanzthompson | @tuskens-mando | @pedrosmustache
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*
I AM SO SORRY AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! i love you all and i'm so grateful to have you here with me. i am literally breaking my own heart writing this, but now i can finally tell you all that THIS is the foreshadowed brokenhearted moment that we have been building to. yes i have already written both their reunion scene and makeup scene. the pain will not last longer than absolutely necessary!!!!!
CHAPTER 23 SHOULD BE UP NEXT SATURDAY, MAY 29TH AT 7:30PM EST!! i am unfortunately having another big slew of health issues, and after my doctors' appointment next week, i will at best have invasive testing ahead of me and at worst need surgery. i will not know until Wednesday, so please just be patient with me as i figure out when i can write!!! as always, i'll update you on tiktok (padmeamydala) and here as i get news!!!
thank you all so much again, not only for understanding my erratic, hectic posting these last few weeks, but for being here and caring about me and my health and wellbeing just as much as you care about Something More! graduation went so well, thank you all so much for all your well wishes!!! i promise we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming SOON!!!
xoxo, amelie
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 25: The Return
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
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“For someone who was shunned by their home world you sure are excited to get back.” Din muses from his pilot seat, I glance up from the child in my lap. “Not everyone shunned me, my family would still welcome me home and I can bear with the others for a week or two until the heat cools off.” I smile, “Besides now I get to flaunt around the husband and child they never thought I'd have.” I add on with a vicious grin. “So I’m just a trophy husband, great.” Din grunts teasingly, “Believe it or not Din I wouldn’t be surprised if a few other women decided to throw themselves at you while we’re there. My people do marry more than one person, remember? And to have a big bad Mandalorian with one kid already walk into this tiny village is a golden ticket for these people.” I quip, running a finger over the child’s small hand as he grasps another.
“Would you even be okay with that?” He mumbles, “I grew up around it Din, if you wanted to marry another woman I would let you.” I answer softly. “But would you be okay with it?” He questions again, “Depends on the woman.” I shrug. Din pauses, “What if it's a man? What if you wanted to marry another person?” He wonders. A laugh slips through my lips before I could stop it, “Depends on the man too, but I’ve never had the urge to marry more than one person so I've never put any thought to it.” I hum. “Why so curious?” I muse, “Just want to know what I’m walking into.” He shrugs, “I think you should be more worried about what you're going to be pressured into.” I advise.
“Like?” He prompts, “Like a wedding and new life celebration.” I answer. “We’re already married.” Din argues, “Not by my father’s standards, he may have been lacks on me in regards to tradition but he always told me no matter who I married I had to do it at home.” I sigh out. “What would I have to do?” He questions, “It’s tradition that the man brings a courting gift but I can talk my father out of that, what you probably won’t like is the ceremony. The couple strips down to bare minimum, a way to display your tattoos to one another because those tattoos tell who you are. The only thing you could probably get away with is your underwear and helmet, you're also going to have to wear Mudhorn skin because that’s your signet. I’d have to wear a shawl of feathers.” I recall leaning further back into my seat.
“Doesn’t sound too bad.” He mumbles, “We’re probably gonna get drugged too.” I add. “What?” He gasps turning around to look at me, “Children are everything to these people Din. Marriage is the green light to start popping out as many as you can. There’s a plant that inhabits our planet that makes beasts go into a breeding frenzy. We harvest them and use it like an aphrodisiac drug when people get married or have trouble conceiving.” I explain, “And
We’re going to take it.” He mumbles. I shrug, “Not if you don’t want to, I’ll stop it before it happens.” I smile. “Will your father go easy on me if I do it?” He questions, “Given the fact you’ll have a few restrictions, yeah.” I nod. Din lets out a deep sigh, and nods.
“Tell me about the new life celebration.” He mumbles, “Its mostly for him.” I smile looking down on the child. “The event happens during the last month of pregnancy where the father will lead a hunt. Whatever he brings back will be used by the women to craft the child’s things like cradles, blankets, or toys.” I explain. “My father killed a large flying beast. He used it’s ribcage as my cradle that hung from the ceiling, the bedding was made of feathers and whatever was left made a pehr.” I describe.
“Sounds easy enough.” He hums, I snort at his answer, “Bold words coming from a man who gets ass kicked by almost every beast he runs into.” I tease. “I wouldn’t fail you Cayre.” He promises, “I don’t doubt you for a second, Cyar'ika.” I hum out blissfully.
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I strap my blades to my back as Din loads his blaster, The child waiting impatiently at the door. He coos loudly from across the ship, Din sighs as I let go of a laugh, “We know Ad’ika. Just wait a few seconds longer.” I call back taking my blaster off its shelf before stuffing it into its holster. With the blaster in place I make my way over to the child and hoist him up into my arms, I grunt feeling him squirm to be put back down. “I can’t let you wander Páiste, You’ll be gobbled up by some beast before we even get a foot away from the ship.” I warn, thankfully the warning get’s through his stubborn little head and he stops moving. So much like Din I swear.
“You ready?” Din calls fingers hovering over the drop button, I nod, and Din drops the hull door. Carefully we walk out, the thick jungle forest creaking and croaking loudly. “Follow the path right there and whatever happens don’t step off the path.” I warn pressing my palm on his back. Din nods once before walking forward, the path is thin and barely open enough for Din to walk through without his armor touching the overgrown grass and leaves. “How come there’s so many heat signatures?” Din questions, “Because everything here is alive, more so than any other planet in the galaxy. The trees will eat you if it’s desperate enough. What you need to be looking for is no heat signatures.” I answer.
Din continues walking without any more questions, the walk seems longer than I remember but I suppose that can’t be helped. It takes at least an hour and a half for Din to pause looking up ahead, “There's a cool spot ahead,” He announces, “That must be the village. In large groups our kind doesn’t give off heat signatures.” I explain gently pressing my hand into his back to urge him forward. The child in my arms coos loudly at all the nature around us, his little hands pawing at the occasional leaf I will have to brush out of the way.
A few more minutes of walking and I see the path open up, Din’s pace slows significantly until he stops just before the opening. “You’ll be okay, If you can kick my ass no one here is going to be able to hold a candle to you.” I encourage with a roguish grin he can’t see. Din’s shoulder shook with a silent chuckle, but it’s just what he needed to take that last step out.
Inside the clearing huts lay scattered, some bigger than others, some have smoke pushing out of them, and few sit half finished. I smirk as the village seems to pause at the sight of Din, his shiny armor a sharp contrast to the dark jungle, it isn’t until I step out from behind him does things seem to pick up. A few people whisper to one another, as others drop what they’re doing to run elsewhere. I roll my eyes and take Din’s hand in mine, pulling him through the village ignoring the whispers and stares.
To the left side of the village, I pause in front of one of the many huts, my family’s hut. Din’s hand slips from mine and places itself on my lower back, a small comfort that does a lot. I swallow hard and knock on the door, it only takes a few seconds, but those few seconds are probably the longest of my life. My mother, thank the gods, is the one to open the door. “Hi
Mom.” I laugh weakly, the woman in front of me stops her eyes sharply moving from me, to the child, to Din, then back to me.
“Your back!” She exhales sharply, eyes glossing over with tears, “With company.” She then added with a small laugh. “Yeah, and some news.” I laugh, “Well don’t just stand outside! Come in!” She snaps hotly, moving out of the way to usher us inside. “IonĂșin! Our daughter is home! With guests!” She yells out into the hut, I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. There’s a few thumps and a crash before low and behold Amon, comes rearing from around the corner. “Who the hell is that?” He spat, “Amon!” My mother screeches, but it doesn’t surprise me one bit.
“My husband,” I smirk, Amon’s eyes narrow in on Din, “I don’t believe you.” he scoffs. “Mando, Amon. Amon, Mando. Mando that is my second brother.” I quickly introduce, “And what’s that green thing in your arms?” Amon huffs, “My kid, say something about him and I’ll have Citaili swallow you whole.” I hiss. Amon’s eyes go wide before turning around and walking away. “Who is Citaili?” Din mumbles, “My beast.” I answer simply before moving deeper into the hut.  
Turning the corner I find my father sitting at the fire pit in the middle of the room. He glances up at us, before looking back down. I shuffle over and sit across from him Din takes a seat beside me, “Is it true?” He questions first. “By his law it is, I came back to do it our way.” I answer. I relax when I see a smile spread across his face, “Good.” He hums before standing. He makes the short walk over to us and Din stands when he approaches. I watch my father’s eyes scan Din, “A Mandalorian, hm?” He chuckles, “I never would have thought but now that I'm seeing it, I can’t believe I didn’t realize how good of a match you’d be sooner.” He laughs patting Din on the pauldron.
“Now this little beast,” He then turns to the child, who I let out of my arms to wander the hut, “He is what?” My father prompts. “Our foundling, child.” Din answers, “Did you make him?” My father grunts, “No.” Din answers shortly, “But he is ours.” Din declares sternly. My father nods his head again, “Then that’s all I need to know. I hope my daughter was wise enough to tell you what we expect here, what will need to happen for me to give my blessing. That being said, we'll start preparations immediately, I’m sure you have places to be.” My father grunts moving to sit down at the fire again.
“We have time.” Mando assures, “We’re
taking a vacation.” I smile, my father sent me a doubtful look but didn’t openly question it. “Your oldest brother built himself a hut not too far from here, to get some privacy, he said. But recently married the girl he got pregnant, so he built a new one. His mother is with him now making sure he doesn't do anthing stupid, so I'm sure you two can make use with that one.” My father huffs out while rubbing his forehead at the headache that is my eldest brother. A grin forms on my lips at the thought of teasing my older brother.
“My poor daughter, got more balls than most of the men in this village and not a single one of them has a big enough pair to marry her.” My father grunts, “What I want to know is how this came to be?” He muses. I spare a glance over to Din, surely he knows my father can’t know the full truth. “We got into a fight, I won, but then she saved me from being eaten by a beast.” He paraphrases, I smile at the answer, at least he isn’t lying. My father lets out a big bellied laugh, “Sounds believable. And you uh, married her already?” He questions more. “This is The Way.” He replies and I can’t help but to roll my eyes, “So it seems.” My father hums.
“Honey!” My mother sings, my eyes go wide to find her holding the child, who is stuffing his face full of the pastry my mother no doubt gave him. “I’ll gather some extra supplies for you, he’s a hungry little Páiste.” She coos out, the child cooing back cutely, milking my mother’s affection and food. “That, he is.” I muse glancing over to Din with a smile
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 30: The Lead
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
Note: Its...Its over đŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„ș. But not to worry part 2 is underway. SO MAY THE 4TH BE WITH YOU!!!
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I grunt when I feel the girl from yesterday, who I’ve come to know as Yelina, pulls on my hair. I’m dressed in the ridiculous pink dress, wearing the deathtraps she calls shoes, and the silver chains she calls arm bracelets and necklaces. “I cannot believe your this pretty and you choose to be a beast hunter.” She sulks, braiding and pulling my hair into an ornate ponytail. “If I even had half your looks I could be hired to work the classier cantinas in the city.” she continues, “You mean the ones that where they could kill you if you so much as hear one word too much.” I huff lifting a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “The money's good.” She shrugs, “So is beast hunter money.” I hum. She scoffs and rolls her eyes before finally pulling the last elastic.
She puffs her chest out proudly looking over the finished look, my makeup is dark lined with splashes of pink. The dress is a sleeveless holter top that leaves my entire back bare to the world, two small inches of fabric connects it to the skirt which ends two inches below the curve of my ass. Needless to say it doesn't leave much to the imagination, “I’m not sure what the boss is gonna think about all the tattoos but I think it really works for you.” She hums with a nod. “Sounds like a him problem, cause I ain’t covering them up.” I grunt standing to my feet, I let out a quiet huff as I try to find my balance before striding forward.
I watch Yelina shrug and follow me out to the main floor, where I find Din standing by the boss. His helmet finds me and his body instantly goes still, I roll my eyes at such a stereotypical reaction, but I can’t blame him. No matter how much I hate this, even I can admit I look good. Not that I could talk though, seeing him with my blades strapped to his back does some funny things to me. “Gar cuyir mesh'la.” He compliments once I’m in range, “Vor entye.” I chime with a smile. “Shoes might kill me though,” I joke with a grin, Mando shakes his head and leans back against the bar, “I’d put my credits on you before the shoes.” He muses. I kiss my teeth, “Always the charmer.” I hiss with an eye roll.
“You two! Front and center.” The boss calls, I let out a sigh, “Off to work.” I shrug as Mando and I make over to the Kantoonian. I watch his eyes scan over us before he lets out a huff, “Tattoos aren’t what I’d prefer, but neither is a walking armory.” He grunts. “Not our problem pal. This is what you're getting.” I shrug, the man rolls his eyes before turning to the door just in time for two bulky Twi’leks to open the door making way for the delicate pink one to saunter in wearing the smallest white dress I’ve ever seen.
“Miss A’mee, its a pleasure to have you. These two people behind me will be your hostess and security for the night.” The Kantoonian greets as he gestures to the two of us, She lets her eyes scan me before dragging them over Mando. Always the fucking Twi'leks with him. “That’ll do.” she snips before waving, my eyes widen as a flood of people wash into the cantina. It’s going to be a long night.
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It didn’t take long for the pink Twi to get drunk off her ass on the alcohol thats way too expensive for a place like this. She giggles wildly crushing the specially bred lothcat in her arms, the beast would sell for a pretty hat if she kills it. “Pretty!” She calls, I roll my eyes at the name but come closer nonetheless. The name formed when she was too drunk to remember my actual name, not that I told her, but the boss did. At least it isn’t degrading. “Are you and Mando apart of a gang?” She whispers in poorly concealed hush giggles, “What makes you say that?” I chime in faux sweetness. “Your tattoo matches the sigil on his shoulder.” She points out. I let my eyes flash to Mando before a grin smears across my face, “Don’t tell anyone Princess A’mee.” I hum. Her eyes go wide before she's covering her mouth to cover her squeals and giggles.
I move back to my place in the background when the girls that she surrounds herself with start to gush over Mando, even if he’s right behind them. I smirk over to Mando as his shoulders sag in exhaustion. “Did you really have to tell her we’re in a gang?” He grunts quietly, “and ruin the fun by telling her we’re married, not in this lifetime Cyar'ika.” I chirp. “Besides it's my job to keep her happy, she’s happy to gush over you. Can’t imagine she’d be very pleased to know you're married.” I hum with an eye roll. “Shabii'gar.” He huffs as a person passes the table the girl is sitting at, “I look forward to it.” I grin roguishly.
Our attention is drawn away from each other as a orange man stumbles in the direction of the table. “A’MEE!” I rawers pointing a vero-blade in her direction, My hand find Din’s thigh, I rip the knife from it’s holster and threw it across the cantina at him. Right as it embeds into his head, a baster shot hits him in the chest. I glance over to Mando to see his blaster pulled and slightly smoking. The girl squeals in utter delight and claps her hands excitedly at the sudden action. I roll my eyes and wave to one of the shadowed guards to move the body out, when the body is out of sight the girls at the table continue to gossip and giggle. “I hit him first,” Mando quips, I snap my head over to him, “Bullshit.” I hiss. Mando doesn’t reply, only stands smugly and goes back to his job.
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The rest of the night goes without a hitch, except the part where the pink Twi’lek thought it a good idea to try out the stripper pole. Wasn’t much of my problem, in fact the very opposite, it was very entertaining watching the people of her party and staff try to pull her off. It only became my problem when I had to find something else to entertain her with, which then led to me spinning my blades like some sort of circus act.
The night ended with the girl giggling wildly as she's dragged to the door “BYE BYE MANDO AND PRETTY!” She slurs loudly, using her entire arm to wave goodbye. I let out a groan as soon as the door shuts, the first thing I do is kick off the heels. “You two did well for a bounty hunter and Beast hunter.” The Kantoonian smirks, “I couldn’t persuade you to become permanent staff can I?” He hums. “No. You fucking can’t.” I spat walking to the bar and taking the first bottle my hand touches. “Easy.” Mando calls as I long well deserved swig, I wave him off and let the burn settle in my throat.
“So tells us where we can find other Mandalorians.” I prompt leaning back against the bar, “I can’t tell you where you can find them, but there’s someone I know who can tell you.” He informs. I let out an aggressive sigh, “We’ll take it.” I huff sitting up. “There’s a Abyssin named Gor Koresh, underground mobster in the outer rim, frequents fight clubs out there. He said he knows where to find one.” The Kantoonian informs. “At least this isn’t all for nothing.” I huff putting down the bottle and hopping off the stool. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” I groan out stretching.
I change into my normal, more comfortable, clothes in the dressing room. When I’m done Mando and I walk back to the ship, “I'm a little disappointed you didn’t keep the dress.” He confesses. I roll my eyes, “Din, you’ve seen me naked how many times? A dress would be a step down from where you are.” I laugh pulling off my cloak. “That’s not it, it’s just
It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dressed up that’s all.” He hums, “Next time we’re out I’ll get a nice dress.” I offer with a small laugh. “Would you?” He questions, “Only for you Cyar'ika.” I smile stripping off the swords and armor. “You know what I’ve noticed?” I call out rolling my shoulders, Din hums as he starts to put away the weapons, “It's always the Twi’leks with you.” I grin. Din lets out a tired groan as I crackle at his misery.  
“I thought that doesn’t bother you.” He grunts, “It doesn’t, I just find it extremely hilarious.” I grin savagely. Din’s shoulders sag tiredly, “Only pulling your leg Riduur, you know I adore you. Come on let’s go get our kid.” I hum pressing a kiss to his pauldron as I pass him, Din nods but not before landing a hard slap to the back of my ass. I shriek only to pull an annoying laugh from the man, he’s very lucky I love him.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 24 : Home To The Gods
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
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The group of us had no issues getting down to the lava flats. The problems only started when we arrive to find the droid ferry designated from going un-used in the hot conditions. I watch from the side as Kagra and Din struggle to push the boat off, the cooled molten lava attaching the boat to the dock. “Cara, would you mind?” I sigh out hoisting the child further up in my arms. “Mind getting out of the way!” She calls to the men, said men turn and go wide eyed and scramble to get out of the way as she lifts her heavy-duty blaster gun. I shield the child’s eyes from dust as she open fires on the side of the boat, small rubble and dust flying off before it finally breaks about from the dock.
“Watch your feet, it’s molten lava.” The droid warns as I step into the boat, “You don’t say,” I muse with an eye roll. I step into the boat and Din’s hand automatically comes out to help me in. When we’re all in by the time the boat catches the steady flow of the river, but it's a few seconds in when there is a russell behind us. Everyone including myself pulls a blaster and points. Only to see the supposed broken ferry droid rise up from, it beeps a few times and I glance over to Din. “Any idea what he just said?” I question, “Why are you asking me?” He grunts, “You're the bilingual one.” I scoff.
“I believe he is asking us where we would like to go.” IG takes a guess, “Down river. To the Lava flats.” Kagra requests. The droid deeps again before using his long pole to row the boat, I let out a sigh and run a hand over my face. The child in my arm pats my cheek in an attempt to to copy me, I send the child a small smile and brush my fingers over his wrinkly head. “Not to worry, my littlest beast, we'll be out of here in no time.” I whisper softly.
A little while later I spot rodents along the riverbed, a sign that there should be an exit coming up soon. I’m proved correct when a light came into view at the end of the tunnel. “That’s it. We’re free.” Kagra calls pointing out the blinding light up ahead, I look over to Din, waiting for the confirmation that we’re in the clear. “No, we’re not.” He counters, I with hold a groan, “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel.” He continues to inform. My eyes go wide and the familiar sense of panic starts to rise in my chest. “Looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.” Mando guesses, “Stop the boat.” Cara calls. I glance back to see panic forming on her face, “Hey droid stop the boat!” She calls again. Uh oh this isn’t going to end well.
When the droid doesn’t stop Cara turns sharply, “Hey! I’m talking to you!” She growls marching over. “I said stop!” she snaps before using a blaser to shoot off it’s head, I let out an exasperated sigh and sooth the child in my arms when he squeaks at the loud blast. “Well, now we really can’t stop.” I mutter, “Looks like we fight.” Cara suggests, “They’re too many.” Din chides. “Then what do you suggest we do? Cause I can’t surrender.” Cara scoffs, “They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child.” Ig buts in. “The child will be safe.” I mumble, “How so?” he questions. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, I feel the tingle of the shimmer take over and soon enough I hear the gasps of surprises as I disappear.
“You can do it now?” Din questions, “Yeah. I can focus better with the kid in my arms.” I call out. “Where did she go?” Kagra questions reaching forward and swiping at me, “Watch your hands! I’m still here!” I huff turning my body, so he didn’t accidentally hit the child. Kagra jumps at the sound of my voice, “Okay, so what about the rest of us?” Cara questions, “Can you do that for the rest of us?” She continues. “It takes a lot of focus to pull off masking an entire group and I don’t have that type of training.” I inform. “This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy so you all can escape.” IG decides, “You don’t have that kind of firepower pal. You wouldn’t make it to sunrise.” Din huffs. “That is not my objective.” The droid responds, “We’re getting close. (y/n) stay down, everyone else sattle up.” Cara butts in. I shuffle and lower myself to the bottom of the boat.
“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs have been compromised, I must self-destruct.” IG informs, my eyes widen as I recall the time we first met, “But you don’t have to, just like last time we’ll find a way out.” I call, “I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.” he argues. “Are we going to keep talking or are going to get out of here?” Karga snaps, “I can no longer carry this for you.” IG spoke, handing the jetpack to Din. “You can’t self-destruct, your base command is to watch over the child. That supersedes your manufacturer protocol right?” Din argues, “Right?” He challenges when he doesn't get an answer. “This is correct.” The droid agrees, “Good, now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.” Din nods.
“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured, the child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive. You and your wife have said many times that should one of you should fail the other cannot. Surely you understand the nature of our circumstances.” The droid continues to persuade. I pause at his logic, using our own words against us, our own creed. Din continues to argue, but I let my shimmer fade as I rise to my feet. “If you do so I can default to my secondary command.” The droid instructs, “But then you’ll be destroyed.” Din spoke weakly. I slide my free hand into his, I see his helmet tilt over to me before doing a quick double take to make sure I’m actually there.
“But you will live and I will have served my purpose.” IG comforts, “No. We need you.” Din all but begs. I feel my chest sink a little but I look up at the droid knowing this is will, whether he scientifically has one or not. “There is nothing to be sad about, I was never alive.” the droid informs. “Your wrong, you are alive, Kuiil gave you new life, gave you will. He is your father and you are his son. This is the way.” I smile softly. “I’m not sad.” Din challenges, “Yes you are, I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.” IG corrects. A smile breaks across my face, “Told off by a nurse droid, you’ve reached a new low.” I laugh weakly as the droid reaches forward and strokes a finger against the child’s ear. “IG,” I call, “May the gods welcome you home.” I breathe out. Nothing more is said as the robot steps over the boat and into the lava.
I let shimmer take over my body again, this time it's a bit more of a struggle as I watch IG walk to the mouth of the tunnel where he will meet the gods. Ever so slowly he slides deeper into the lava, the lava eating away the metal making up his legs. However, he makes it to the mouth. I hold my breath as he pauses, only for a tear to drop from my eyes as I watch IG unit explode. “May the gods welcome you home.” I whisper.
I glance to what remains around us when the boat finally floats through the mouth of the tunnel. Stormtroopers lay everywhere as small fires litter every other place, however my sight is pulled away from them by soring air. I duck down when I see a ship fly overhead, shots being fired down, “Moff Gideon!” Cara calls as she shoots at the ship. Mando and Kagra fire along with her until the ship disappears over the closest mountain range. “He missed.” Kagra breathes, “He won’t next time.” I mumble softly releasing the mask over my body. “Our blasters are useless against him,” Cara huffs, “Let’s make the baby use the magic hand thing.” Kagra suggest.
I quirk my eyebrow at the older man, “Really? Magic hand thing?” I scoff with a head tilt. “Come on baby, do the magic hand thing.” Karga prompts the child as he waves his hand out, I let out a snort as the child raises his hand and waves back. “I’m out of ideas.” Kagra grunts, “I’m not.” Din grunts pulling on his jet pack. “Don’t you dare.” I hiss, “Here he comes!” Cara calls. “Din Djarin!” I warn, but it’s slightly muffled as Cara starts shooting. “Dibu e Debu!” I screech when Din takes off, I watch as Din shoots up high into the sky and just over Gideon’s ship when he flys over the top of us. My eyes go wide when I see Din shoot his grapple into the ship before he proceeds to be dragged by it. “That fucking dumbass!” I snarl, “You married that dumbass.” Cara shot back, “I almost regret it.” I huff watching my fucking Riduur be dragged through the air by a gunship. Typical Mandalorian.
I hold my breath as I see the shimmer of his Beskar tumble across the ship, only for him to let go. Seconds after he does the wing of the ship explodes but eyes are set on Din as he free falls. Catch yourself, fucking catch yourself. I exhale sharply when his jetpack ignites and softens his landing when he’s closer to the ground allowing him to land on two feet. I hurriedly step out of the ship and speed walk over to him, only to draw my blade and knock him in the helmet with the dull side. The Beskar on Beskar makes a much prettier sound than the sight of Din getting his head rung for the second time today. “You're crazy!” I seeth, “Not as crazy as you, Riduur.” He chuckles. Warmth bursts in my chest as he uses the soft term, “I’m not going to let you charm your way out of this.” I glare.
“Very impressive Mando, very impressive. It just looked like your guild rates just went up.” He chuckles, “I'd fucking hope so?” I huff with a smirk. “Anymore stormtroopers?” Din questions, “I think we cleared out the town.” Karga hums. “If not I’m sure I can clear it out for you.” I grin savagely, “No need, I’ll take care of it.” Cara smirks. I let out a dramatic sigh, “Rebels get all the fun.” I grumble teasingly, an action that makes a grin beam across Cara’s face. “You're staying here?” Din questions, “Why not? Navarro is a very fine planet.” Karga scoffs gesturing to the world around us. “Yeah and I’m the Alor of the Mandalorians.” I tease with an eye roll. “Now that the scum and villany has been washed away, its respectable.” Karga continues despite my sarcastic commentary.
“As a bounty hunter hive?” Din questions, “Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters.” Kagra shrugs, “And perhaps this specimen of a soldier might consider joining our ranks.” He suggests not so subtly to Cara as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. I got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code.” Cara draws out. My attention is drawn away from the two when I feel the child shift in my arms, he leans over to place his hands on Din’s engraved poudrin causing said man to point his helmet in our direction. “But you two, you are welcome back into the guild with open arms.” Karga offers with wide arms, “So, go off, enjoy yourself. Have a honeymoon newlywed and when you return you will have your pick of all the quarries.” He chuckles.
Din turns over to me and gently takes the child from my arms, “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters at hand.” Din replies. I sent the two a small smile with a shrug, “Take care of the little one.” Cara mumbles reaching forward and rubbing the child’s large ear. “Take care of it, or maybe it’ll take care of you.” Kagra chuckles softly, “May the gods be your favor.” I smile before taking the child back into my arms and facing Din. Din nods before wrapping my arms around my midsection, I hold my breath when he takes off into the air. His grip on me is tight, but I tuck the child close between us.
We didn’t even land before I spot Kuiil’s body, together we buried the ugnaught under a pile of stones with his hat on top. “May the gods welcome you home, and your child meet you at the gates.” I whisper looking down at the pile, I let Din usher me into the ship where I collapse into the passenger seat with the child in my lap. I lean back and close my eyes as I hear Din start the ship, “(y/n), what does he have in mouth?” He calls. I open one eye and glance down, “Your necklace.” I hum, “Huh, didn’t think I’d see that again.” He mumbles. “There’s a lot of things I didn’t think I’d see again,” I snort, I heard a chuckle crackle through his modulator. “Why don’t you hold onto that, maybe you’ll stop trying to eat your buir’s.” He muses, “Doubtful.” I scoff playfully. “And (y/n).” He calls again, “Yes Din?” I sigh softly, “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” He answers. A smile beams across my lips, "The stars will go out before I forget you.” I laugh wistfully.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 28: The Bonding (+18)
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Warnings 2.0: pollination-drugging, Dub-con, dirty talking, hair pulling, spanking, spiting, squirting. breeding kink, manhandling, slight degrading, Oral (female receiving), Overstimulation, Unprotected penetration (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!!!)
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
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I breathe slowly as my mother pushes at the feathered shawl over my shoulders, Her eyes scanning my body, a proud gleam shining in them as she looks over every tattoo. The new one still bold and fresh in my skin, inked into the side of my shoulder is the head of a Mudhorn, the Djarin sigil to be specific.
“I’ve already married the man, why do I feel so nervous?” I huff playing with my Mythosour pendant, the cool metal gives me comfort while I wear the ceremonial outfit. Which is nothing more than underwear, a triangle cut bra top, and a feathered shaw. The look exposes all the tattoos and scars that litter my body, exposing every battle and every triumph “Perhaps because this one is more formal?” My mother hums pushing back a stray hair that has fallen from one of the many braids.
“We are ready!” My father calls through the door, I felt my soul leave my body for a second, it all seems so unrealistic. Nevertheless my mother ushers me to the door where my father waits, night has fallen and torches light the way to the tree line of the jungle. My father presses a hand to my bare back and pushes me along. I black out somewhere from the walk to the ceremony, to right before Din spots me. The man in question never fails to baffle me with his ridiculous helmet donned looks. He too is barely dressed, a pair of tight under garments and a cape of groomed Mudhorn pelt. His scars that adorn his body replace the tattoos he would have if he had been raised here, even so there is still ink etched into skin for all to see.
I see the man go rigid at the sight of me, whether it was because I’m half naked, the fact that we are to be married, or he’s spotted the new tattoo adorning my shoulder I do not know. My father stops at the entrance of the aisle made by the people attending, all of them stand and watch as I walk to Din. I held my head high and met Din at the end of the small path, at the meeting Din’s hands find mine. The chief then starts his speech, outdated beliefs of carrying one bloodline and such, things me and Din don’t particularly care for.
It isn’t until he announces the bonding do I come back down from the stars, the red powder sits on a tile. I glance to Din and squeeze his hand, Din nods firmly allowing the chief to go ahead and blow the powder between the two of us. I gasp only to inhale it deeper, I hear Din wheeze, since he had turned the filters to his hamlet off the power must have flooded up inside his little dome. Din and I are both in a slight daze as we are then ushered along, the closest people pushing us along to a secluded hut that is only used for these kinds of rituals.
I felt it first, the heat that burns my skin like the coals of fire, only hiss when I’m pushed inside the dimly lit hut. Candles being the only thing lighting it given that the hut is rather far from the village for privacy purposes. “Fóc.” I hiss feeling the feathers of my shawl scratch as my skin, I rip it off without hesitation tossing it away like it’s damned me. Din grunts pushing off his thick pelt, I watch him turn to look at the single room as I try not to let my body turn to fire.
“Din?” I call breathlessly, His helmet snaps over to me, “Blindfold or helmet?” I question yanking at one of the thinner woven blankets, a harsh rip rings through the air as I take a single long strip of it. Din doesn’t answer, only goes back to observing the room. “Din!” I snap hurriedly, “Pick one! We won’t be able to think straight for too much longer!” I hiss feeling the heat plaguing my skin seep deeper to my core. “Neither.” He finally answers and it takes a second to process his answer, when it finally registers I snap my head to him so fast I think I heard it pop.
Din walks the room putting out every candle he comes across until the room sinks into darkness, I can barely see the dark shadow of Din moving before hearing the hiss of his helmet. “Come here Cyare.” He orders, the strip of fabric I have in my hand drops at how deep his voice is. The normal flush of heat I feel when hearing his voice is nothing compared to the burning pulse I feel now. My feet buckle but I force myself to stay up and back up to where the bed is. “That’s not what I asked cyare.” He growls, his shadow prowling closer, something primal in the air has me shaking. Even if I know it’s Din, his faceless shadow and deep voice makes him out to be anyone but Din.
“Don’t run from me, Don’t you ever run from me.” He snarls coming closer, my knees hit the back of the bed as I try to move away. I fall back onto the bed and my heart leaps when Din surges forward, taking the opportunity to go in for the kill. I exhale sharply feeling him loom over me, his skin burning just like how mine feels. A whimper escapes my lips when I feel his hand trace up from my hip, running across my ribs and breasts, before coming to my throat. “You should remember how running from me ended the first dozen times Cyare. And now that you're mine there won’t be a world in this galaxy you can use to hide from me.” He all but purrs, pressing his nose to my cheek.
“Why would I run? Why would I run when I want nothing more than to alline myself to you? Lips to lips, scars to scars, pulse to pulse, DathĂșil.” I coo, sliding my hands up to cup his jaw. Aweing quietly to myself as I feel the hair along his jawline. I feel a sound vibrate through Din’s chest but it never makes it to the air as his lips press flush against mine. I felt like the world lit up upon feeling his lips, slightly chapped but plush and forceful in the kiss. A moan stumbles from my lips before I would even have a chance to stop it, even in our drunk haze for touch on the ship he didn’t kiss me, but feeling it now makes me feel like it was a terribly missed opportunity.
“You should have kissed me before,” I hissed against his lips before pressing them back against him, only to gasp when Din’s teeth dig into my lower lip, “Should have, definitely should have.” He groans after letting my lip slip from his teeth. One hand pulls away from his jaw to knot itself into his curly hair, I pull his head back to expose his throat and Din lets me. I feel his chest rumble when I rake my teeth over his throat, but his hand squeezes mine to remind me of my place.
I let out a gasp when Din’s hands suddenly jerk away from my body to snatch up my hands, he then forces them up above our heads and presses them into the bed. “We are one together, mesh’la.” He whispers pressing his lips to mine, “We are one when parted.” He continues trailing his lips down to my throat. “We will share all.” He hums against the valley of my breasts as his hands slip from mine but slowly trail down my body with him, “We will raise warriors.” He promises as he kiss the top of my stomach.
The heat in my core flares to life, “Please?” I whisper to him, Din chuckles and only sinks deeper off the bed until he kneels on the floor. I let him toss my legs over his shoulders, The heat in my gut aching just knowing he’s so close to where I need him most. “DathĂșil, please.” I whine arching up into him, only to squeal when his hands push me down forcefully. “You will take me when I say Cyare, how are you supposed to take my warriors if all you’ll do is cry when I split you open?” He scoffs, my eyes go wide at his words. I know he’s big, I’ve felt him, but him knowing of such a thing sent hot thrills through my body.
Din doesn’t wait for a response, only pushes two finders into me, his fingers gliding in with little force. I keen loudly finally feeling something fill the aching hole inside of me, “FĂłc DathĂșil.” I whine pushing my hips into his fingers as he works them slowly. “Easy Cyare. Don’t take too much.” He warns, I jump when I feel and hear him spit down at me. My hands fly from above my head to his thick head of hair. “DathĂșil!” I screech, he responds by pushing both fingers into the soft spot along my walls. I throw my head back at the feeling, the heat swelling there is finally being prompted to flush.
A cry rips from my throat upon feeling a wet pressure against my clit, I can only assume it's his tongue. My legs shift urging him hurry up but his one free hand comes down on my bare thigh, forcing a squeal out of me. Hurried hisses and hums slip from my lips as he continues to push against my soft walls and rake his tongue over my clit. It doesn’t take long for the heat in my gut to flush out, a cry ripping from my throat as I come, eyes flashing white while my head is consumed into nothing. Din’s hand clamps down on my hips when they arch up, forcing them to remain on the bed and nowhere else.
My brain is still foggy when Din removes himself from between my shaking legs, the heat that consumes my body still raging on. “Not enough DathĂșil, AnĂĄs tĂș , not enough.” I beg as tears blur my vision. It almost hurts when Din’s scorching body touches mine, “I have you Cyare, I have you.” He growls lowly, I feel him push me further up the bed before flipping me over. Whining loudly I try to turn back over, “Lay down and lay still.” He snaps bringing his hand back down on my skin. “Have to—Have to make you come.” I wheeze out through the fire lit haze. “All I need is this.” He sneers, cupping my heat with the palm of his hand, it pulls a breathless moan out of me before I try to grind my hips down onto it.
“Turn over,” He demands, this time I listen and push my body over to my stomach. I feel Din shuffle before he’s looming over me again. His cock resting against my ass with arms caging me at my shoulders and legs straddled over mine. I grip the pelts under us tightly feeling the head of his cock press against my opening, “Relax for me. I don’t want to force myself in, but I will.” He warns in a deep growl. I swallow hard and force myself to give into the heat consuming my body, only making the ache worse.
I feel Din’s first push, I feel the soundless pop my cunt makes as I take the tip of his cock. Both of us letting go of deep chested groans, then a flush of heat took me by storm. Din curses feeling me tighten around just the head of his cock, I bury my head into the pillows and pelts as I squeal loudly, cuming just from him pushing in. Even with the haze of coming undone I feel Din’s hand knot in my hair before pulling my head back. “Did you just come?” He snarls, tears well up in my eyes, “Yes.” I whisper breathlessly. I grunt when Din shoves my head back forward, only ever to scream when he shoves the rest of himself inside me. The sensation burning and causing another wave of euphoria to rip through me, this time, this time there's a gush.
My legs shake and I’m too far gone to register the slew of Mando’a that rips from Din’s throat. I only come back down when I feel the harsh thrust of Din’s hips, the sensation of his burning cock dragging along walls is otherworldly yet at the same time the only thing anchoring me down to this bed. “Come on Mesh’la, you got so wet for me. Once more, need you to come one more time. Once more and I’ll fuck my warriors into you.” He whispers in rambles, I preen at his words, a sense of odd pride swelling in my chest at the thought of him promising me his children.
I lift my hips and the angle is just right that his cock strikes that soft spot inside me, the feeling makes me buckle and fall back against the bed. Din however felt it too and he isn’t going to let me ignore it. Din leans his weight onto one hand before using his other to slip under me and lift my body just enough to allow him that angle. I screech and claw at the pelts below me, the constant push against that spot makes my vision blurry in the darkness, the raging heat in my gut flares, and it continues to flare even as the burning sensation starts to hurt in ways that aren’t fun. “Din! Please!” I sob out, Din groans at the sound of his name. Forcing his hips to work faster, harder, at the sounds of my pleds. It’s just what I need, just what I need to finally come undone.
My vision goes black and my hearing goes out, no longer seeing shadows of the place around us or hearing the harsh slapping of skin on skin. But I come back around, Din's frantic thrusts pushing so far deep I didn’t even know possible. “Take me (y/n), fuck! Take me so your belly will swell!” He growls, pressing his entire body down on me as he thrusts, “Make your belly swell with my warriors.” He snarls so deep I feel the vibrations against my back. He doesn’t make me wait long, it  three more thrusts before he’s pressing himself flush against me and thrusting as deep as he can reach as he lets go. I whine feeling the hot flush of his cum, feeling it sink deep and coating everything it touches.
Din breathes heavily over the top of me, his forehead pressed against between my shoulder blades as I try to keep my eyes open. “Love you.” I whisper lucidly, “Love you too.” He murmurs against my skin. That's all I hear before everything evenly coats black.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 26: Inked
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
Note: Posted it early because its my mother's birthday and she called me out saying she wanted my followers to celebrate with her so here ig💀💀💀
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“Mom! Seriously, I’ve got it!” I huff tying my old cradle up to the ceiling, “Who’s going to watch your Páiste, while your
what did you call him?” She huffs, “Riduur, Mom.” I muse, “Well who’s going to watch your Páiste while you two get settled in?” She points out. I roll my eyes as I finally tie the last knot to the cradle, I step down from the stool before gently pushing the low hanging cradle to give a test run.
“He’s well behaved as long as he's entertained Mom, and he’s plenty entertained by the new environment.” I laugh reaching for the cradle padding, “I’m just worried honey, you never took an interest in helping raise the little ones. I just don’t want you to get overworked, or something accidentally happen.” She murmurs. I resist the light pinch in my chest, “I’ve been doing fine with him Mother.” I huff, “I have no doubt and I didn’t mean offense. I’m just worried, the decision to have a child is— momentous. It’s to forever decide to have your heart walking outside your body.” She whispers softly.
“We’re okay Mom, trust me.” I smile glancing over, “If it makes you feel better, I could use a bit of pointers, when we first got him, it was a rough ride because neither of us knew what we were doing. We still don’t half the time.” I grunt, crossing my arms and watch as the child plays with the loose ends of my mother’s hair. “Well first and foremost, you should start carrying him in a strap or a carrier. If you are going to continue to wield weapons you need to have both hands free.” My mother points out with an eye roll, “And I don’t know how your ship looks but I think a hanging cradle is better than stuffing him in that pod your Riduur brought along.” She huffs. “Thanks mom,” I snort, “Trust me child, there’s lots more to learn.” She smirks.
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I listen to the patter of the rain against the hut, Din runs through the door of the hut, his armor shiny from the wet rain. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen rain.” He mumbles looking back out to the falling water, “Happens often here.” I call looking not bothering to look up from my holo pad. The child giggles loudly as I continue to swing him in his cradle. “So what did you get dragged into?” I prompt still reading the lines of Mando’a, “Your father dragged me out to the jungle to fight your oldest brother. Then he took me to the tattoo artist because he couldn’t have his daughter marry an inkless flesh bag.” He grunts as he strips out of his wet armor. “Sounds like him, did you win?” I muse glancing up to see Din pull off his breastplate. “Obviously.” He scoffs, “How many did he make you get?” I hum, closing my data pad to actually look at him. “Two because of the size.” He hiss, “I was surprised your people have special bacta for that. To heal the wound but make the ink stay.” He mumbles, rubbing his hand over his chest, I assume that where one lies.
“Can I see?” I smirk, Din’s hand pauses and looks over to me, wordlessly he lifts his shirt. The first one I see is the mythosaur skull taking up a large portion of the left side of his chest. Standing from my seat I walk over to him, Din stays still as I trace my fingers over the ink covering some scars, “And the other?” I prompt quirking my eyebrow. Din bares the underside of his forearm, My eyes widen to see the large bird inked into the skin, “You bare my sigil, it’s only fair I bare yours.” He murmured softly. I let out an aggressive sigh, “I hate how good you are to me.” I huff running my fingers over the ink. Din laughs through his modulator, “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyare.” He murmurs softly as his arms curl around my hips to bring me closer. “The stars will go out before I forget you.” I replied softly, reaching up to tilt his head down so I could press my forehead to his.
A loud whine breaks us apart, turning I can’t help but laugh as I see the child pouting fiercely at us from his cradle. “Awe, we’re sorry Ad’ika.” I coo pulling away from Din and making my way over to the child. I scoop him out of his cradle and press my forehead to his, the child lets out a purr like sound at the action. “We love you too.” I whisper to him, the child coos back just as quietly.
“Come on ad’ika.” I muse when the child lets go of a big yawn, I slip him back into his cradle before pulling his blue blanket over him. I watch him snuggle into the blankets and close his eyes, a few seconds after his breathing even outs. I slowly back away before turning, only to see Din peeling off the rest of his armor. Silently I walk over as he starts to dry it off, taking an extra cloth I help him wipe away the wetness and slight mud that’s smeared at his shin guards.
When his armor is cleaned we move on to cleaning the blasters, Mando and I sit at the tiny wooden table as we dismantle the blasters and his rifle. “Your father wants to go on the new life hunt tomorrow.” He announces quietly, “Does he?” I muse, “Said that he doesn’t want to keep us here longer than he should.” Din replies gruffly. “My father just wants to get things done quickly, he doesn’t want to wait and risk us having to up and leave before we can perform the ceremonies.” I explain scrubbing the inside of the barrel. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, almost three years now.” I hum out, “He wants to perform his duties as my father before letting himself enjoy the fact I’ve come back, with a husband and child no less.” I muse with a smirk.
“Speaking of Husband, I learned what you meant when you said women who throw themselves at me.” He huffs, “Really?” I laugh quietly, Din nods mutely aggressively scrubbing at one of his many rifle pieces. “At the tattoo parlor, women had followed us there as discreetly as they could manage. Had to take my shirt off and they all tried to rush through the door, asking if I had a wife, if I would take a second.” He mumbles so quiet I could barely hear it through his modulator. I press my hand to my mouth to keep from laughing too loud, Din sighs loudly and tips his head to the side. A faceless expression telling me he was both embarrassed and annoyed.
“Back on the ship you asked me if I was okay with you marrying another person? Would you actually marry another person Din?” I question pulling my hand away from my mouth to prop my head up with it instead. “Only if you married them too.” He grunts idly looking down at the piece he just cleaned, I hum at the answer. “What if I wanted to marry another person?” I prompt, Din’s hands stop and I could tell he’s thinking over his answer. “I would want to be able to love them too, but it’s okay if I can’t because you love them and I want you to be happy.” He answers slowly, I kiss my teeth at his answer, “Too good to me Riduur,” I tease. “But you are good to me Riduur.” He counters, “I kidnapped you, forced you to change your religion, forced you into the life of a bounty hunter remember? You didn’t have to accept The Way wholeheartedly, you didn’t have to care for the foundling as much as you do, you didn’t have to love me as strongly as you do. But you did.” He continues.
“I do.” I nod quietly before putting the blasters back together, Din rhythmically puts his rifle back together before he puts his rifle down. “Let’s get some sleep Cyare.” He prompts quietly, I nod and shuffle over to the rather large wooden bed. “My brother is such sleaze.” I grumble shuffling into the bed, “At least we get his bed.” Mando chuckles slipping into the other size. He lets out a soft groan at the feel, his body going lack at the feel of padding covered in pelts. “Good night, Din.” I laugh, “Good Night (y/n).” He chuckles.
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My senses come back when I feel the pull of the blankets, I don’t open my eyes, but I hear the crash of lightning followed by a whine. The arm Din has tossed over my hip shifts and pushes over to the edge of the bed behind me, then there’s a coo as Din’s arm draws back followed by a familiar child-like weight being pushed ahead by his hand. “Don’t wake Buir ad’ika.” Mando whispers to the best of his modulator’s ability as the child goes crawling over me, I force down a smile as the child coo back and shuffles closer to Din. I feel the two readjust themselves and it’s only after I hear the soft even breathing of the child do I open my eyes.
I’m met with the sight of the child sleeping on Din’s bare chest, his tiny hand resting over his new tattoo with the rest of him splayed out. It’s still so odd to see so much skin then a head of Baskar when the man chooses to sleep shirtless with his helmet on. “Not a fan of thunder?” I whisper, brushing my hand over the child’s back, “Did we wake you?” Din mumbles. I shook my head and shuffled closer to them, pressing into Din’s side. Neither of us spoke as we listened to the clash of lightning and thunder paired with the soft breathing of the child.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 23 : The Decision
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 2.4K 
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
Note: for @scrumplump for being the best hype man out there and my most adoring follower.
Taglist: @ranger-treaty
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Karga helps me out of the vent and into the sewer, I shuffle further inside to make room for Cara to come in behind me. When all of us are accounted for Cara leads the way, since she’s the one with the flashlight. “There should be a way out of the sewers somewhere near the convert.” I whisper out, “Convert?” Kagra questions, “Where do you think all those Mandalorians came from the last time we were here?” I scoff taking Cara’s hand in mine so I can direct the light in a hope I might recognize where we are. However, we all jump when there’s a crash farther down the tunnel, “Don’t fucking stop! We have to keep moving!” I hiss clutching the child closer to my chest. No one moves as Cara points her flash light down the tunnel, survival instincts kick in and I’m slowly inching myself away from them and further down the tunnel. Until the sight of Din and Ig unit came into light. Thank the fucking gods.
“And you wanted to keep moving.” Cara scoffs, “Shut up,” I grumble moving past them to meet the two. “Thank you.” I whisper to the droid as Cara takes over supporting Din, “You are welcome.” Ig replies. I move to start walking behind Cara and Din, Ig unit stays close behind me as we walk. “(y/n) do you know where we’re at?” Din questions, “No, I was looking for a marker before you showed up. You’d think I’d know my ways around these sewers given how many times I’ve run through them.” I huff looking along the walls.
“Well if you catch the smell of sulfur follow it, it will lead us to the lava flats.” Kagra grunts, “The imps will kill us before we get to the ship, we have to find the Mandalorians. They’ll escort us there safely.” Din argues. “If they’re still there, they blew their cover when they sieged the town. Secrecy is a big deal if you don’t remember Mando.” I huff, “We have to try.” Din rebutts. I roll my eyes but in the act I catch a mark on the wall, “Turn left.” I demand, “What?” Cara questions. “Turn left. I’ve been this way before, turn left to the next tunnel.” I rush as I walk ahead to start leading the group through the tunnels.
“I don’t see any marks though.” Cara grunts as she follows orders regardless, “When I was first kidnapped I tried to escape a bunch of times, got lost every time. So I started leaving small marks on the walls where I’ve been, nothing too big, didn’t want to give away the convert. If I did that they would have surely killed me.” I snort running my hand along the walls before finding another mark.
“It’s amazing that you're actually married.” Cara huffs with a grins. “Contrary to popular belief. We are not.” Din grunts as he moves to stand on his own, “The bacta is taking effect.” The droid calls as I open my mouth to nag him. I close my mouth as Din makes his way to walk beside me, “We should be close.” I mumble tilting the flash light I took from Cara around the hall. “Dibu e Debu.” I whisper when my flashlight lands on a pile of armor, Din pauses as his flashlight lands on the pile as well. Mandalorian helmets and armor spewed in all directions, I swallow hard as a violent wave of grief washes through me.
“Din.” I whisper as he kneels to the ground, “Din.” I call uncaring of the ears listening. “We have to go.” I urge, “Go. Take the ship, I can’t leave it this way.” He brushes off. Anger surges through my chest, “Absolutely not. We are in a do or die situation. You cheated death once already and I won’t let you test your luck twice because of grief.” I hiss out. Mando whips his head around, most likely to argue with me, But his helmet moves to Kagra. “Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” He questions the man, “No. When you two left the system and took the prize the fighting ended and the hunters just melted away.” Kagra explains. I mindlessly trace the back of the child in my arms to ease my nerves, the tense posture Din holds is something I only see when he feels threatened, and when Din is threatened there’s only one thing he knows what to do about it.
“You know how it is. They’re mercenaries not Zealots.” Karga grunts, my eyes go wide as Din snaps to his feet. “You did this? Did you?” He questions hotly as I place myself between the two, I press my hand into Din’s breast plate, thankfully Din doesn’t push beyond the initial space I place. “No!” Karga calls from over my shoulder, “It was not his fault.” A voice calls. Din whips around and instantly uses his body as wall to cover me and the child. However, due to the lack of blaster shots, I tilt my head around the metal man and find the Armorer.
“We revealed ourselves. We knew what would happen if we left our convert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter.” She explains as she walks over to the pile and picks up a piece of armor and places it in her cart. “This is what resulted.” She sums up picking up another piece, “Did any survive?” I question softly, “I sure hope so. Some may have escaped off world.” She answers continuing to place the piece into the cart. “Come with us.” Din offers, “No. I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.” She denies as she picks up a helmet and puts it in the cart. She says nothing else as she then pushes her cart into her forge.
Din and I spare a glance to each other before following after her. I swallow hard as I watch her place a piece of armor she collected before placing it in the fire of her forge, “Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.” The armorer calls. I glance over to Din and he nods, I step closer to her and bare the child out to her. Din makes his way to my side and places a comforting hand on my back, “This is the one.” Din spoke. “This is the one you hunted then saved?” she questions, “He is also the one that saved us.” I add on. “From the Mudhorn?” she inquires, “Yes.” I nod running with a small smile pointed at the child as he mouths on my necklace even if Din’s is around his neck.
“It looks helpless.” She comments, “It’s injured, but it’s not helpless.” Din rebutts. “Especially left unsupervised.” I add with a small sigh, the armor tilts her helmet at my comment. “Its species can move objects with its mind.” Din informs, “I know of such things.” The Armorer comments as she goes back to her smelting. I perk up at her words, “The songs of eons past tells of battles between Mandalore The Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.” she recalls. Jedi
Why does that sound so familiar?
“Is it an enemy?” Din questions, my eyes dart over to him with a sharp glare. “No. Its kind were enemies, not this individual. Just like how the girl was once aruetii, but now it seems that she is ready.” The Armorer points out. My eyes widen, “What is he? Has someone asked for (y/n) in Riduurok?” Din questions hurriedly. I felt my chest tighten at the question, “He is a foundling, and the girl... Well I assumed it was one of the reasons you came looking.” She answers honestly. I turn my head and look at the wall, away from Din, away from The Armorer, away from this whole fucking religion, when he chooses to stay quiet in regard to our situation.
“By creed, it is in both your care.” She continues, but I don’t look back, I continue to stare at the wall. “You wish us to train that thing?” Din questions, “He isn’t a thing.” I quip sharply. “It’s too weak, it would die. You have no choice. You two must reunite it with its own kind.” The Armorer explains. “Where?” Din questions, “This. You must determine.” She answers, “You expect us to search the whole galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?” Din questions hotly. I close my eyes and force down a tired sigh, I cannot get into another fight with this man. Especially not in front of her. “This is the way.” she responds, now that made me sigh out.
“Hey this tunnel will be lousy with imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.” Cara butts in, “If you follow the descending tunnel it will lead you to an underground river that flows downstream and will lead you to the lava flats.” The Armorer supplies. “I think we should get going.” Kagra calls, “I’m staying. I need to help her and I need time to heal.” Din answers. I felt every thread of self-control snap in that one second.
“You.” I snarl, stepping forward and handing the child off to the droid who's always hovering nearby, “You. Don’t get to decide when you can just up and leave me with the responsibility of this child. Not when by the Creed you drilled into me, we are his mother and father.” I snarl jabbing my finger into his breastplate, “You don’t get to decide when you choose to love me. When you call me your riduur and threaten to rip the world apart for me. Then suddenly tell me you never knew there was an us.” I hiss now shoving my hand into his chest. “You don’t get to fucking decide as you lie dying that I’m suddenly apart of your fucking clan then say nothing about it in the presence of our fucking Alor.” I completely and utterly seething as push against him again.
“You decide right now. You decide right now what you want. I love you, you enormously stubborn pain in the ass. But if you decide you can’t love me back, I’m leaving, I’m leaving this tunnel and I’m going to take out as many imps as I possibly can before they can shoot me dead, because a warrior's death—buying you time to get the child off this planet— It’s all I have left in me,” I warn dangerously. “This is the way.” I declare looking right where I know his eyes are, “This is the way.” The Armorer agrees.
There’s a tense silence that suffocates the room, it takes all I have not to cave when I hear the whimper of the child. “I’d like to take (y/n) in Riduurok.” Din calls to The Armorer, I close my eyes as the tension finally starts to clear. “Do we really have time for this?” Cara questions, “Cara I will literally shoot you.” I huff out in aggravation. The woman holds her hands up in surrender. “As Alor of this convert I approve of this joining. You both have earned your signet, and now are a clan of three. Pledge your oath.” she declares.
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome,” I start breathlessly taking Din’s hands in mine. “mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” I declare closing my eyes and pressing his hands to my forehead. I hold in gasp when he jerks me forward and presses his forehead to mine. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” He vows softly, I smile at him, a sense of home swelling my chest as I close my eyes and soak it in. “I must give you your signets.” The Armorer calls, effectively breaking us apart, draw my blades and hand them over to her as Din bares his shoulder.
“Did we just witness you two get married?” Kagra questions, “Yep, congratulations you just witnessed a ceremony not many outsiders get to see.” I muse. “You know this was very anticlimactic.” Cara hums, “Mandalorians aren’t really big on the ceremony thing. My people are though, if we ever go back to my home planet my father will have us marry again.” I snort. “I’d pay to see that.” Karga grunts, “You're more than welcome to attend if you find out and able to make the journey. You just have dodge all the thousands of beasts who are going to try to eat you on the way.” I grin viciously. “Not with my life.” Kagra mutters grimly.
“Thank you. We will wear it with honor.” Din thanks the Armorer as she motions for me to take my swords. I take them by the hilts and smile down at the twin Mudhorn sigils at the bottom of the blades. All our attention was then snatched away at the sound of blaster fire echoing down the tunnel, ”We should go.” Karga announces, I nod and sheath my swords before moving to take the child into my hands. “IG please guard the outer hallway. Scouting parties draw near. ” The Armorer calls the droid, Ig unit follows the command wordlessly.
“I have one last gift to help you on your journey,” The Armorer calls, “Tell me have you trained with the raising phoenix?” She questions. “When I was a boy.” Din answers, “Then this will make you complete.” she nods handing over a fucking jetpack. “Thank you,” Din thanks, and all I can do is hope to the gods that he doesn’t kill himself while using it. “When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.” the armorer warns, “I understand.” Din nods. I jump as the sound of blaster fire gets closer. “Okay now we really need to get going.” I call, “Girl, the next time we meet it will be time to take the creed.” The Armorer warns me. “This is the way.” I agree, “This is the way.” She affirms. I hold my breath as the blaster fire gets closer only to exhale sharply when Ig comes around the corner, “You are all protected.” He reports, “Great.” I huff with an eye roll.
“More will come, you must go.” The Armorer ushers, “Come with us.” Din offers again, “My place is here. Restock your munitions.” She dismisses once again. I wordlessly follow her orders as I start to pack as many blaster charges into my pockets as I can. I hear the Armorer speak to IG but I’m too busy trying to load my blaster and keep the child from playing with the charges to hear what she says. “Now go. Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey.” She shoos off, “Thank you.” I whisper as I brush past her.
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amorevolousfaith · 3 years ago
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Chapter 21 : The Fall
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Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader
Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)
Word Count: 2.2K
Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.
Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.
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When morning broke through, we got back on the road, with less blurrg and less bounty hunters. I stay behind the cradle as Mando and Cara walk in front of it. “You think they’re having second thoughts?” Cara suggests, “I wouldn’t put it past them.” I mumble, “I need you to be my ears.” Mando requests to Cara.
I keep my eyes trained forward watch Kagra’s back as he came to a stop, “I guess this is it.” He mumbles. My heart leaps as he turns and fires off two blasters, hitting the bounty hunters behind us. I watch as he holds up his blasters but there isn’t a chance in hell I’d trust him, if he shoots at Mando and Cara I could take him, if he shoots at them I could take him before he gets off another shot.
Slowly he walks past us and checks the bodies, kicking the blasters away from the bounty hunters before he checks if they’re alive or not. My fingers brushing over my blaster even if Mando and Cara have him two to one. Karga puts away his blasters and turns to us, “The plan was to kill you and the girl, then take the kid.” He informs, “But after what happened last night, I couldn’t go through with it.” He confesses. I glance down at the kid and wonder if mind tricks come with his list of powers.
“Go on, gun me down right here and it wouldn’t violate the code.” He offers holding his arms out, “But if you do the child will never be safe.” He continues pointing his finger at the pram. I swallow hard and look over at Mando, “We’ll take our chances.” Cara scoffs, “The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset.” Karga chides. “You tried to run, but where did it get you?” Kagra continues, fair point, “This is ridiculous.” Cara butts in. “Perhaps you should let him speak.” Kuiil suggests, “Listen we both need this client eliminated. Let me take the child to him and you three
” Kagra offers. “Absolutely not.” I hiss, “Let’s just kill him and get out of here.” Cara huffs. “He has a point though.” I mumble softly, Din follows my lead and puts away his blaster. “Wait, what are you doing?” Cara questions, “He’s right, as long as the imp lives, he’ll keep sending hunters after the child.” Din answers.
“It’s a trap.” Cara points out, “Bring me.” Mando suggests. “What?” I intervene, “Bring you?” Kagra questions. “Tell him you captured me, get me close and I’ll kill him.” Mando continues, “That’s a good idea. Give me your blaster.” Kagra agrees as Mando hands over his blaster. “Hold on!” I call stepping closer to Mando, “What about us?” I question gesturing to the rest of the party, “Yeah, I’m coming with you.” Cara nods over to Mando. “If anyone is going with him I am.” I scoff, Mando whips around at the sound of my statement. “You have to watch the child.” he argues, “No, no, no. That would make it too suspicious.” Kagra shook his head.
“Cara could take me in, say she captured me.” I supply tossing my blaster to Kagra, “That could work, you could take the child too.” Kagra agrees. “No, (y/n) and the kid are going back to the ship.” Mando orders, “I will not stand by and watch you walk into a fucking trap.” I snarl, “You have to protect the child! If one of us fails the other cannot! We have to be prepared if it comes to that!” he argues. “It’s not just about the child anymore Mando! And let’s face it, it's been that way for a while!” I rebut throwing my hands into the air, uncaring if we have an entire audience watching us hash this out. “I hate to get in the middle of this, but none of this will work without the child.” Kagra calls, “You aren’t leaving without me Mando.” I hiss pointing a finger at him.
Din lets out a heavy sigh before he nods, “I have a plan. Kuiil ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. Activate the ground protocols, nothing on this planet will be able to breach those doors.” He instructs. “Here’s a commlink.” Mando offers to him, “I will keep the child safe.” He nods to both Din and I. “Don’t forget to cover your stripes.ïżœïżœïżœ He reminds Cara, I hold back a smile at the remark. “Let’s go.” Mando announces holding out two pairs of cuffs, handing one to Kagra and one to Cara. I hold my wrists out and watch Kuiil take the child from his pram as Cara as she cuffs me. “Hold on,” I call softly to Kuiil, The male pauses and I walk over. Leaning forward I press my forehead to his, “Be safe, ionĂșin.” I whisper before pulling away. I watch as Kuiil walks away before turning back to Cara who tugs on my cuffs one last time, “Never took you for the type, unfortunately I don’t swing that way.” I grin tilting my head to the side. Cara rolls her eyes as she clicks them into place.
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Walking to town all I see is the white armor of the imps at every corner. I swallow hard and shuffle closer to Mando out of instinct, who responds by tilting his body to shield mine. One gets off his speeder and approaches us, “Chain code?” it questions, “I have a gift for the boss.” Kagra points over to us. “Chain code?” He asks again, Kagra grunts and pulls out his card. “I’ll give you twenty credits for the helmet and fifty for the girl.” the imp offers. My blood stills and bore my eyes into the fucking imp, “Haha not a chance that’s going on my wall and the girl—” Kagra starts, “The girl will rip your throat out with her teeth before you touch her.” I grin brightly displaying my teeth. I hear a muffled chuckle come from Mando as the imp in armor shuffles uncomfortably. “On your wall?” Mando mumbles to Karga, “Just go with it.” He mumbles back. “Alright, go ahead.” the imp allows, I snap my teeth at him as I walk past and laugh as he jumps.
I return my sight to the town around me seeing at least two imps at every corner and more in the streets. “You said four.” I grunt, eyeing a few who’s helmets turn as I walk by. “Four guarding the client, many more in town.” Kagra corrects, “Things got pretty heated after you two crashed the safe house.” Kagra informs. “Slip him his blaster.” Cara mumbles, “Not yet, isn’t the girl armed?” Kagra answers. “I can’t swing my blades in cuffs.” I grumble, “I’ll cut myself if I tried.” I continue in a huff. “Yeah you should probably take those off her just in case.” Kagra suggests, “Wait—” I freeze, “(y/n).” Mando soothes. I pause but eventually swallow and nod over to Cara who slips my blades off my back, “These are a lot heavier than you make them look. How do you wield them both?” She mumbles, “Years of practice and well calculated gravity.” I hum doing my best to ignore the naked feeling clawing at me.
I swallow as we reach the Cantina, “Ironic for you, they took over your own base Kagra?” I mock as we’re shoved through the door. We pause and scan the room, “See four.” Kagra mumbles as I mentally count the storm troopers. “Look what I brought you as promised. “ Kagra announces as the older man approaches us from his seat at one of the many tables. I watch as the older man looks from Kagra to Mando and I, “What exquisite craftsmanship.” He muses running his hand up the front of Mando’s breast plate and over the side of his helmet. What fucking creep. “It’s amazing how beautiful Beskar can be when forged by it’s ancestral artisans.” he continues as his hand toys with the Mythosoir at my chest. I swallow the snarl in my throat to keep from triggering the attack too early.
“Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative.” The man offers, “I would be obliged.” Kagra agrees. Mando and I are then shuffled over to the booth he was sitting at, “Can I get one of those drinks?” I grumble, only to grunt quietly when Mando elbows me as we shuffle into the seat. “It’s a shame your people suffered so.” He sighs, I swallow when I hear the door open and two more stormtroopers walk in. “Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace.” The older man lectures. What a load of bullshit.
“Compare imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos. I would like to see the baby.” The older man demands. I swallow hard and tense up, “He’s asleep.” I all but choke out. “We’ll all be quiet.” The older man assures, “Open the pram.” He demands to Kagra. The gods had mercy though as one soldier shuffles over and reports that he has a call. The older man excuses himself and I sink back into my seat only to force down a jump when I feel Mando’s hand on my own. I hold onto it like a lifeline, before taking a breath and pulling his hand free from the cuff. Mando then returns the favor before he’s passing me my blaster. Kagra and Cara whisper to one another but I’m too busy looking over my blaster making sure it’s ready to fire.  
I grunt as Mando suddenly shoves me to the floor and blaster fire fills the cantina. “Can I have my FUCKING swords back?” I snarl as I duck under the table Cara flipped, Mando covers us Cara hands over my blades. I strap them to my back and myself assurance instantly pumps back in me. The blaster fire soon ended and Cara, Mando, and I slowly creep closer to the long window of the Cantina. I duck behind the bar before using my swords as a reflective surface to see the outside. “Dibu e Debu.” I hiss seeing seven black storm troopers, Then comes white troopers by the truck load. “Really? Four?” Cara scoffs over to Kagra, I roll my eyes and let out a long sigh. Only for stormtroopers to flood in from the streets, “Cara if you continue to spite the gods like this I’ll sacrifice you to them.” I snap.
“Mando! Is the child safe?” I call, “I’ll check.” He calls back. Seconds later I hear him calling into his com, “(y/n)! I told him to take the child and leave, you need to leave as well.” He calls. “You can’t be serious!” I huff, “We’re pinned down and you are the only one with a chance to get out of here alive!” He argues. “If one of us fails the other cannot.” He finalizes, I swallow hard and close my eyes, grounding myself to this planet. “You have something I want.” A voice calls, I snap my eyes open and see a man with dark skin standing in the walkway made by the white imps. Dibu e debu. I feel my ability vanish as I recognize the face and all black armor covered in a long cape, fear takes me by the throat and squeezes it, “Who is this guy?” Cara asks. “You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not.” He continues, the full reality of the situation hits me and the world around me start to close in. The grip of fear squeezes my throat again, this time tighter. I have to get out, I have to protect the child.
I desperately try to ground myself back to the world, but I can’t. All I can hear is that man’s voice and the impending doom it carries. I hear Mando speak over to the com, “In a few moments, it will be mine.” the man outside announces. Fuck that, over my dead body. I hold my breath forcing myself to try and start regulating my breathing, but all it does is make the world close in. The fear slowly goes on for the kill as my breathing becomes thin and shallow.
I hear Mando speak to the com again, “It means more to me than you will ever know.” He calls. I felt something in my snap and without much thought I snap up and forced a single blast into the direction of his voice, all the fight I can muster is used in that one shot as the basic instinct of fight or flight roots flight into my very soul. There’s a few shouts and the Cantina is open fired on for a short minute. “(y/n) you need to get out, Kuiil isn’t responding.” Mando calls, it’s when my shaking body drops back to the safety of the floor does my heart stop beating, fear finally going for the kill, I gasp for air like I’m drowning as I push myself against the bar. “I can’t, I can’t Mando. It doesn’t work—Can’t focus, I can’t
I can’t focus.” I sputter out as tears fall from my eyes.
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chvoswxtch · 2 years ago
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I took a break from packing to read this and now i’m just sitting on the floor in my closet contemplating my life bc no one will ever come close to speaking to me the way that din talks to her and-
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if they don’t hire you to write on the next season of the mandalorian I swear I will flip so many tables
unearthed
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chapter five - married
warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of death (?) um idk i think that’s it???
a/n: gah. one of my fav chapters so far hehehehe ALSO PSA YALL— i’m trying to tag some of you in the taglist but your names aren’t popping up, i think this has to do with your settings?? i’m not taking anyone off i’ll retry to tag you ever chapter, but just so ya know!! if there’s like a line through it or it’s white instead of highlighted just have a look, or if i need to be following you just msg me and i will :)
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Just walk up there.
It’s nothing.
Nothing you haven’t done before.
You’ve been in front of thousands— millions of people before. You’ve been in arenas of people screaming and applauding, crowds swarming you as soon as you step out the door. This, being in a moderate sized room where half the eyes on you are stuffed in a helmet, should be easy. Child’s play.
It was nothing.
So why the hell are you feeling so terrified?
You were practically shaking— staring up at the set of stairs in front of you, leading to the Armourer who stood next to the original Forge. The one where every Mandalorian in the golden age would have been brought into the creed. And now, you were going to march up there and add your name to the list. You felt like an imposter, out of place in a flowing dress while you were surrounded by hard plates of armour and dark colours.
The only reason you moved was Bo-Katan behind you, a soft hand on the back of your arm nudging you in the right direction. You were grateful for her kind eyes as she nodded you up to the podium, and then your feet remembered they were attached to your body.
You met Din’s blackened stare, and started to move.
Your dress was loud. A brush of the light yellow fabric along the smooth granite ground sounded deafening. Like an alarm going off, alerting every watchful eye of the Mandalorian ancestors to your betraying presence.
Stars— you were starting to think like them, too.
It was hard not to get caught up in it all. The darkened room, soft whispers through helmets, and as you took the last step up, he was there. Your breath caught in your throat.
He looked the same as always. Of course he did, but it knocked the wind out of you all the same. Once he was in your sight, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. His presence didn’t allow it. The Armourer said something, and the only reason you acknowledged her was because he did.
“This is The Way.” He says, the words sticking to you like glue when he practically purrs them out like that. This was the way it was now. You— a fake Mandalorian, unable to stand without everyone around you holding you up.
Swallowing hard, you felt Bo-Katan move away, but you were too busy watching Din take three steps to your side. His arm wrapped around yours, sneaking it’s way under the bare skin of your wrist, cold gloves skittering electricity up your arm.
And
 oh.
It was like everything just stopped.
You could feel the press of his fingers, light but meaningful, like most of his small touches of you. He was careful not to wander the expanse of exposed skin, which he easily could, even in front of all these people. People who you’d
 you’d actually almost forgotten everyone was there.
You stared up at him as if it was your first time seeing a night sky— entranced and all encompassed by the inky black and shining silver, and all the whispering voices faded away until it was just his rough breathing and his gloved hand on your feverish skin.
He didn’t look at you, just at where your own hand was placed, holding for dear life on one of the many plates of his armour. He led you with him over to the half sphere that sat in the middle of the stage. You peered in, seeing the eternal flame fluttering a reliable blue, with the water from the mines floating calmly behind it.
You grab him tighter— either out of reflex or wanting, but he leans into it. Lets you use him to stand, to stay strong in the face of the Armourer. You hope he’s strong enough to keep you standing on his own, because now he’s here, you aren’t sure how you stood without him.
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Din was speechless.
He was known as a man of well chosen words to most, so his silence wasn’t unexpected. He was grateful he’d built that reputation, because even if he had to, he wouldn’t of found words that described why he felt frozen at the top of the stairs.
When he’d see you walk in, he felt like time had
 stopped. It was stupid of him. He was meant to be in control. He was a King. Standing in front of his people; leading. But
 stars, you were the only thing in 20 years that had made him freeze.
You walked so easily, like you were made to be there. It was like that first day, watching you walk through the city like the ground was made to bear your weight. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t tear his eyes away from your slow, swift steps or the way you gracefully floated across the hard floors. Neither could anyone else. Outside his direct view of you, he could see his people watching. Some eyes were evaluating; the hard faces and helmets looking you up and down like they were scanning the battlefield— precisely and with no mercy.
Others watched like he did. In awe. Some eyes were soft, some whispers drifted their compliments towards her, even though they wouldn’t be heard. That’s how he knew they were genuine. They fell on deaf ears, but they were supposed to.
When you crossed the stage to him, the only thing that snapped his attention away was the loud voice of the Armourer in his ear, telling him to move towards you.
He could tell you were nervous when he got closer— for once, your eyes betrayed you easily. He thought that he was the one that’s hard to read, considering you couldn’t see his face, but you had schooled yours to a point of contention. He knew if you could see him— really see him, you’d read right through him.
But your eyes now, even though they held his, were unsure. He was supposed to just stand next to you, walk with you to where you would touch where the mines water meets the flame, and then you’d be one of them.
But he couldn’t help himself. Your dress, draping over your skin like liquid sunshine, made something angry and foreign to him burn in his chest. He wanted to feel what it was to be that close to someone— someone, he had to tell himself. Anyone. Not just you. It was a lie, but it was one he’s going to have to believe himself.
He was jealous of your dress, gently grazing the skin of your hips, gliding against the softness of your thighs. You were covered, but he knew what was under there. What was in reaching distance for him. Instead, he settled for your arm. As soon as Bo-Katan released you, he took his chance, and for the first time in a while, he followed what his rapid beating heart was telling him to do.
When he reached for you, you answered in earnest. Your hands were nearly clawing at him, holding on to the thickest parts of his armour and pulling him close to you. He let you find purchase on his body— the line of yours tucking tightly into him, and he found himself hoping you held him harder. Dug your nails in so hard that he felt the lines being marked on his skin. He wanted you to need to lean on him— to need him like he found himself needing you up here.
You clung tightly through the whole ordeal, Din not being able to remember much about it other than how warm you were against him, and how close your skin was to his. Just a few inches of armour, feeling so heavy on his body, and he would be able to feel you. He hates that he thinks about that— a million eyes on him, and all he can think about is how soft you would be under the rough calloused palm of his hand.
He doesn’t remember the last time he’s thought of feeling that. Let alone
 longed for it.
The longer you held him, the more Din thought it wasn’t real. Maybe you were trying to sell it. As far as the rest of his people knew, you were supposed to be in love. You needed to be seen united and together, leaning on each other. This was just business to you— he knew that. It was to him, too.
It had to be.
The alternative
 it was better to be buried than brought to light. Din wouldn’t handle that disappointment well.
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The entire thing was a blur from the minute he touched you.
You remember the physical parts. Where he took you to the edge of the Forge, rested your hands on the edge of it. It was cold. Colder than he was, although he’d been pressed up against you so long his armour was as warm to the touch as your skin was. You wondered if he was that cold under that suit.
When you managed to shake that thought away, you remember him guiding your hand towards the flame. It was too hot, and you wanted to pull away for a second. You flinched, but Din kept you on the right path, guiding your hand and covering your reaction, and it ended up looking like a part of the carefully planned show.
The fire nearly licked the inside of your wrist— the water a sharp cold contrast. The Armourer spoke words, and you repeated them, but even they fade; pale in the shadow of the memory of how Din stood above you.
For the first time, he looked every bit the King you’d been told he was. He stood tall, watching as you knelt in front of him, never moving a fucking inch. Then, he reached out, gloved hand intertwining with yours as he led you down and out of the room, disappearing before you could speak again.
He didn’t have to do that.
He does everythin with purpose
 and that little touch? That tiny extension of a person under all this? That was
 well, it was enough to make you stumble out of the hall like an idiot.
It was mind numbing. How his fingers easily melted into the small gaps between yours, how eager he seemed to take your hand, how quickly he latched onto you and swept you out of the room, like he knew what you needed.
As you shuffled your way down and outside, you wanted to scold yourself. If anything, this was the part of the day you had to have a clear head about. You were left alone for this— it was just you, a short, isolated walkway, and a greenhouse in the middle of nowhere.
You’d asked about it. Why they had something like that out here— in an environment that seemed to harbour life well enough, despite the rumours of the toxic and cursed lands.
“It’s a symbol.” Din had replied, although when you’d asked him he’d just been The Mandalorian, the title feeling a little too official now.
“Of what?” He guided you with a hesitant hand, around the corner where the greenhouse came into view. It was small— modest, for the size of the population now. You could see the twisting vines and array of colours, though, and it was bursting with life.
“Of hope.” Din replied, and you chest tightened. “The Mandalorians that were left, after the Purge, they had nothing. Food reserves were scattered— the people were scattered. When a few banded together, this is was what came of it. It reminded them they were stronger together. Many think this was the place our true rebirth was born.”
The door was closed, but you could still see the colours bursting through it. You tried to look for him through the misted glass, but he was no where to be found. Your heart was racing— you had no idea what to truely expect in here. Would he say anything? Nothing? Would he whip out holochess to pass the time?
What made you the most afraid as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, would be that he was going to do exactly what that man said he would. That he’d share with you something you weren’t sure you wanted him to— something that would make you feel even less deserving than you already did.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see. It just felt too
 too big of a thing to take from him. Despite the small conversations, you’d begun to respect the silent presence of him. And after today, you couldn’t deny the effect he had on you. You didn’t want to take anything from him, not when he’d been so giving to you.
The air felt fresher in here, passing through you in easy breaths, like there was a calming effect inside the four walls. It was bigger than it seemed, or maybe the winding vines and tall bushes that hid you in every corner made it feel more like a maze.
You let your eyes wander, a mirage of purples and blues bursting in between the brightest of green leaves. It seemed to overtake the greenhouse— it was clear there was very little maintenance on the inside, like they’d prefer to just let it run wild. It added to the atmosphere. It was almost a little
 romantic.
You swallowed the burning in your throat, and shut your eyes tightly.
“Hello?” You called out, and mentally slapped yourself. It felt stupid. He was in here.
Probably.
Oh, stars.
If he was the one that left you at the altar you think you’d just crawl into a hole and die—
“Around here.” The sound of his voice sends relief rushing through your veins. You followed the sound of it, the two words enough to set you on the right path. As you rounded the corner, you could see him nearly shining, and your chest didn’t feel as tight.
He was there. Looking exactly the same, but somehow completely different in the light of the greenhouse, compared to the dark hue of the Forge room.
The darkness suited him. He was more intimidating that way— a King head to toe. But here, he was more human to you. As far as you knew, he was human, but either way, he was more approachable. Simpler. Here, he was just a man in a pretty suit.
It was very, very pretty in this light.
“I have something to show you.” He says as soon as he sees you. He spits it out like it was a loaded gun in his hand, and the sight of you was enough to make him pull the trigger.
You don’t nod, or shake your head. You just freeze. Staring at him, he turns around, and there’s no words to mince for the feeling you get in your stomach. Fear, maybe, and a little bit of simmering curiosity. You don’t want to see him out of obligation, but for a fleeting second— just for a moment, you know what you want. That you’re curious. You want to see, and you let your eyes flutter—
“AH!” You hear it before you see it.
Two giant ears stick out the sides of the helmet, and then two clawed hands hand below them. When he turns around, you notice how Dins hands hold it gently. Whatever the hell it is.
Or rather, whoever.
All thoughts of the faceless man in front of you flood out for the first time in weeks. When two giant bug eyes whip around and stare at you, ears flapping with the movement, it’s impossible to have any thoughts other than—
“What
 what is that?” You say before you stop yourself. “Fuck. Sorry— I didn’t mean that. I just—“
“It’s okay. He’s my—“ The little green thing wiggles around in his arms and then promptly drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Foundling.”
“Oh. Oh!” You watch it stumble around, like it was formed out of proportion. The fast way it’s legs move seem out of alignment with its body, his head tipping forward, almost directing the rest of him, commanding it to follow.
With jagged movements, he ends up at your feet, where he promptly elevates upward, then plops back down again.
“Can he talk?” You say softly, not wanting to scare the little thing as you bend to his level. You look up to Din, who’s already watching you, and see him shake his head. “Well, that’s okay. I talk enough for the both of us.”
A metallic laugh echos from behind the small creature, and he babbles almost in response to it. The sound is infectious, making you grin as he waddles around, his ears tilting him to either side.
You reach out a hand, slowly, and instead of taking it he flies into you, resting in the crook of your arm. This angle gives you a better look, tiny hairs spiralling on his green head, a toothy smile and nearly wrinkled face. You’ve never seen anything like it before.
“He usually doesn’t take well to strangers.” Din says after a while, your body now curled half up on the floor to accomodate the tiny creature. “He likes you.”
“I can be very charming when I want to be.” You squint when you finally look up to him again, soft orange light pouring through the misted windows behind him. “He’s the little thing you were talking about, right? The found
”
“Foundling.”
“Right.” You stare down at it, watching its huge eyes blink at you, and the thing smiles. “Where the hell did you get him? I’ve never even seen
 I’ve never seen anything like him.”
“He was a bounty.” You look up at Din, and clearly he can tell you’re horrified. “I didn’t know who, or what he was.”
You watch the little creature, who trusts you far too quickly for something that was clearly hunted by the likes of a Mandalorian. He yawns, speaking in little, incoherent mumbles before his eyes blink slower.
“Who would want to hurt a little guy like this?” His tiny hand wraps around one of your fingers, and you’re pretty sure you’re heart bursts.
“They’re dead.” His words are sharp and sure. It sends a cool shiver down your spine, but it’s definitely not fear.
You look back up at him, standing, and taking a step closer. Din holds your eyes for a moment, like he’s waiting for something.
You know he’s lethal. You aren’t surprised to hear he’s killed— he was a bounty hunter, and is a King. Neither of those titles are won by clean hands, not to mention the Darksaber at his side. If someone crossed him, or tried to take one of the few things he seemed to care about, you anything but surprised to hear they ended up dead.
“He’s sleeping.” You say to break the silence, and your voice drags Dins eyes away from your own.
“Here.” He reaches out, moving so close to you that you can feel the heat of his body. His real body— through the soft parts of him not covered by armour.
He scoops the sleeping form from you, and turns around, and it’s then that you notice the only other thing in the room. A hovering shape that opens on command, only to shut and float behind him once Din places his foundling in there. He’s so gentle with him. A man who just admitted to slaughtering what you can only assumed is dozens of people who got in his way, he’s surprisingly soft when he wants to be.
“Thank you. For letting me meet him.” You say, unsure of what to do next. Your hands go behind your back, eyes tracing the long vines wrapped around the frames of the greenhouse.
“I can never get him to sleep, but when I want him to stay awake, he passes out.” He stands in front of you, and even hidden under ten pounds of armour, he looks as awkward as ever. Your face splits into a grin, laughter softly shattering the careful barrier between you. “I wanted you to meet him. He’s
 very important to me.”
“He’s very cute, too.”
“Grogu. That’s his name.” You try it out a few times, letting it familiarise itself in your accent.
“I like it. Nearly as much as Din Djarin. It has a nice ring to it.” You hum, and lean back against one of several wooden tables. It’s full of overgrown plants, some stretching onto the floor and splaying out under your feet.
Your hands dig into the wooden plank behind you, and the easy breathing from before is basically cut off the second he looks up at you again. It goes a little quiet, the whistle of soft wind floating over the top of the thin roof. You can’t stand the waiting around.
“Listen, you don’t
 I don’t know exactly what you were planning; but I’ll say whatever you need me to when we leave here. The last thing I want to do is start this partnership off on the wrong foot.” He doesn’t say anything, conveniently finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden. “They told me about what you are meant to
 do. And I don’t want you to— no, you don’t have to— can you say something so I can stop talking, please?”
Your heart was racing and you wanted to swallow your tongue if it would get you to stop throwing words around because yeah, maybe you did want him to take off that giant helmet because at the very least you’d be able to see if he was scowling or rolling his eyes or—
Laughing.
He was laughing at you.
Only a little, and you could only tell by the slight rise of his shoulders before he corrects himself and straigtens, but you catch it.
“Are you laughing at me.” You tilt your head, gaping slightly at him.
“No.”
“Asshole.” Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath. An easier breath.
“It’s okay. We— no one’s coming.” You sigh and nod your head. “You did good today.”
“Seriously?” Now you’re the one who laughs. “I nearly froze the second I got up there! If you weren’t up there I would have fallen on my ass. It was like all those helmets were staring into my soul.”
“It’s an old tradition, but they were happy to see it revived. The Forge is special to my people. You being there— they were glad for it.”
“And this?” You ask tentatively, curiosity nipping at your heels and urging you off the wall a little closer to him. “Is this all an old tradition, too?”
He readjusts with your new closeness, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he angles towards you, the crib his little baby was in only just visible behind his looming frame. He shrinks you with the long span of his shoulders, and you try not to let your eyes float lower.
“In the Old Ways, Mandalore observed very
 reserved marriages.” He shifts again, nearly brushing you, and your heart beats audibly loud. “In most cases, a marriage was simply a well cooked meal and a question with an answer.”
“They just asked to be married. That was it?” He nods.
“Someone would present a gift, or a meal, some who were more intimate than others might try to make it special. But in most cases, nothing would change. They would just be. As they were before, but forever linked by the knowledge they shared. We would never know if anyone was married if they didn’t write it down, or share it with members of their clan. It wasn’t something that was shared in small groups, and no outsiders could ever tell the difference.”
“I’m guessing they weren’t fans of PDA back then, either.” He shrugs, the movement brushing your arm. “So, how’d they get to this whole thing, then?”
“As the Old Way shifted with time, so did their customs. Partners became more common, and they felt there was something missing from their relationship. Something that set them apart from the other members of their clan.” You go to answer, and bite your own tongue again before you can. “Physical touch. Intimacy. Simple touches, a kiss—“
“Partners didn’t kiss in the Old Way?”
“They never removed their helmets. Not to anyone.”
“So how did they
” He stares at you. He was really going to make you finish. “Or they didn’t
?”
“They did. At least, at some point, in some way probably. But mostly, The Way uses foundlings as a foundation for our people. Most Mandalorians’ don’t have any blood relatives in their clans, and if they did, they might not even know.” You make a small ‘huh’ sound. “But when the times shifted, it developed into the marriage system we have now, at least in the Old Way. The newer Mandalorians take on a more universal form of marriage, but the Old Way is still changed. A Mandalorian is to never remove their helmet in front of another living thing.”
“Yeah. I know that part.” You smile and gesture to him, and he stares back. He doesn’t move, his focus deadly and on you.
“When you become a partner of that Mandalorian, you are no longer another being. You become
 one being. We remove our helmets, and all differences between us are bared. The things that keep us safe are torn away, and we rebuild to something new. Something connected— forever bound. You never take off your helmet in front of another living thing— but we are no longer seperate. They are a part of you until you take your last breath, and long past it.” You are spellbound. Mesmerised by his words— it’s the only way to describe it. He spoke so passionately about this, and it was hard not to feel the same. It was clear he took this very seriously, and although there was a bad taste in your mouth that you were taking this moment away from him, you couldn’t help but notice his word choice.
We are no longer seperate.
“You don’t have to show me.” You say softly, and he takes another step. He nods. “Ever. I wouldn’t take that from you.”
“This is The Way.” His hands hang by his sides.
“It’s not my way.” The slightest tilt of his head clues that you have his attention. “In my way of life, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And this— this is important to you. It should be something you share with someone special. Someone you care for.”
He says nothing, but his hands twitch just slightly, and for a second you think he’s going to go through with it.
“The only time I want you to take your helmet off, is when you want to. You’ve
 you’ve been kind to me. Respectful of my wishes, and I want to do the same.”
“I’ve done nothing.”
“And it’s enough.” It was true. He had done nothing to make you feel out of place, or uncomfortable. He’d pushed none of your boundaries, and he’d offered to help secure a lead to search for your parents killers. This
 it was the least you could do. “Besides. I’m traditional. If we’re going to do the whole ‘Way’ thing, we can do it the way those old dudes did. Helmet stays on. That’s the Way.”
“This.” He corrects.
“What?”
“This is The Way.”
“Stars. Okay, I’m going to whack you in the head with this olive branch I’m extending if you’re going to correct my grammar.” You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms in front of you. “So
 we’re good with this?”
He nods, and then says your name. His voice now is not wavering. It was full again, a brassy baritone surrounding the small space between you. “I had one more thing to say,”
You nod, and look down to your feet. He’d moved so close his beskar boots were nearly touching your toes. You didn’t move away.
“This is not how I saw myself getting married.”
“Great start.”
“I’m not— I’m saying it’s not what I imagined for myself. I’m not sure if I ever thought I would
” You nod. Wordlessly understanding. “When I agreed to this, I was still unsure. But, I I want you to know I have no doubts, now. Seeing you, hearing what my people think of you
 your planet, your family— I will be what you need. I swear it on Mandalore herself. As long as it serves us, we will rule together, as equals.”
“Equals.” You blink at him, enthralled. It’s hard not to be. When someone as stoic as him speaks so passionately about you
 it has an effect. Apparently, more of an effect than you were prepared for, because you find yourself having to think about the promises you made him yourself.
That this was just business. Just a professional contract.
“I want to rule with you. I won’t repeat my planets mistakes. I know an ally when I see one. A decent person. A good heart.” He faces you straight on, and it was the second time in the span of a few weeks you’d thought about how easy it would be for him to kiss you. If he was anyone else, you might have done it by now. “I want to do this with you by my side. And I want to be by yours.”
You didn’t have words. For a Queen that had an affinity for charm, to weave a web of intricate patterns of conversation and pull information out of the coolest of characters, Din Djarin left you utterly speechless. You couldn’t stop your hand as it reached for him.
He looked down instantly, watching the bare skin of your hand graze over the pauldron of his armour. The contrast did something to him. You know it. He locked onto it like a trained missile, tracking the light trace of your gentle fingers until they stopped just before his elbow. You shudder a breath, and whisper to him that you want that too.
His hand moves next, a calculated move that holds the wrist of your free arm. The shift means he has to step forward, bringing himself to press against you. Your eyelashes flutter, nearly brushing beskar, as he slowly tilts your arm up and intertwines your fingers. The melt of your hand in his rests between both your heaving chests, and he tries to speak. Whispers your name so lowly you wouldn’t hear it unless it was as deadly quiet as it is.
He raises your interlocked hands up higher, and there’s only one place they would be going. Only one destination that he’s chosen. When your knuckles bump lightly on the sharp edge of his helmet, you bite down your tongue. The cool beskar disappears as he moves your hands just a bit lower and dip them under
 and he’s soft there. A soft, giving material hidden under the hardest metal known to the discovered universe, and then he pushes you up.
The whole thing probably takes less than a few seconds, but time nearly slows to a stop with his hands in yours. He was going to show you what equals meant. He was going to show you him. Your chest was tight, body locked in a way that only the parts he was touching were lose and mouldable. You want to
 you want to see him. This is something you want, because he wants it.
Your own fingers stretch out, and the helmet moves half an inch upwards.
There’s a sliver of skin. A tanned, cut jaw that you catch, and you shuffle closer, entranced. It’s selfish and dangerous but you want to be closer, want to rip the helmet off him like a kid at christmas, impatient and shaking.
Just as you indulged your most selfish desire in the slightest, leaned forward so you could press the thin wave of your dress closer, an earth-shattering boom came from outside, and the sandy ash of the desert painted the entire world bright orange. You were thrown to the side, glass breaking under your weight as you went flying into the misted glass of the greenhouse. You heard him shout your name; something strong, something to cling to as your head slumped toward the concrete floors.
The last thing you saw was his gloved hands reaching for you before everything went black.
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