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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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A Fresh Start [1]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of fake name, reader is hiding from a shady past

Word Count: 4,506

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn't meant for everyone.

Chapter #01: TWO PORGS, ONE BLASTER

Chapter Summary: The Marshal is looking to hire a nanny, and you just so happen to be moving into the city.

“remember to live while you’re busy surviving.” -d.j.

Din Djarin was busier these days than he ever had been before. Even compared to years ago, when he was picking up dozens of bounty pucks and collecting quarries left and right, it was nothing compared to now. If he had known that being Nevarro's marshal would be so hectic, he may have never accepted it. At the thought, he sighed. That was a bold faced lie. He still would’ve taken the job in a heartbeat because the pay was better than anything he had ever made previously. Speaking strictly in terms of credits, it was significantly less than the various bounties he’d pick up, but the job brought him peace of mind. It brought safety to Grogu. More than just safety, it gave the child the opportunity to grow and learn in an environment where he wasn’t at risk. They had settled here a couple of months ago, and for most of that time Grogu had been happy and free of night terrors. It was a blessing Din couldn’t quantify. He’d work every second of every day if it meant the child grew up safe and loved.

At the thought of his son, he picked up his pace toward the repair shop run by Peli who had ventured from the sands of Tatooine to the growing and thriving Nevarro. She was usually the one who watched Grogu while he was working. When Peli couldn’t, there were a handful of others in town who were more than happy to help out. Din was eternally grateful that the community was willing to go above and beyond as a favor to him. In the beginning, he had actually brought Grogu with him on the job. It wasn’t absurd. Back in the day, when his journey with Grogu first began, he brought the child along on bounties. A day in the life of a small community Marshal was actually quite tame in comparison. Still, that wasn’t normal, and Din wanted normal. School would be starting up soon, as summer ended, and Din was excited to get Grogu enrolled.

He had a stable job and they had a home. Starting Grogu's education was the next step in establishing picture perfect normalcy.

The loud noise of Peli’s shop filled the air as he got closer. All three of the garage’s hanger doors were lifted and open, and Din could see it had been a busy day for the mechanic. Ships, speeder bikes, droids. There was a large collection of mechanical works being actively repaired.

“Peli! Marshal's here!” A mechanic barked out the moment he stepped into the garage. Din turned his way, but the employee didn’t bother looking up from the work they were occupied with.

Din pressed further into the shop. Helmet glanced around, looking for a blur of chaotic green, but his eyes didn’t land on his son. “Mando!” Din spun in place as the curly haired woman marched up to him. Peli was one of the few people in Nevarro who didn't refer to him as Marshal. She said she didn't want it to go to his head. Other mechanics dove out of the way to avoid her path. Though she was short in stature, Peli could command a room with voice alone. Her jumpsuit was covered in splotches of engine oil. “Took you long enough!”

“Peli.” Din nodded in greeting. “Where’s Grogu?”

“Your son,” Peli jabbed a finger in his direction, “ate a handful of bolts today.”

Din stiffened. “He what!? Where is he?”

“Just joking. He didn’t.”

“Peli, that isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

Din resisted the urge to palm the front of his helmet into his hands. He let out a weathered sigh, “Did he eat metal bolts or didn’t he?”

“Not today. No telling about tomorrow.” Peli scoffed. “This shop is no place for a kid! I’ve been telling you that for weeks now!”

Din set his hands on his hips. “No, you haven't.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking it!”

The sound of familiar babbling alerted him to his son’s presence, and Din turned in time to see Grogu quickly waddling in his direction. Argument with Peli forgotten, he grinned and scooped up the child who continued to babble enthusiastically.

“Hey there, you little womp rat.” Din rubbed his belly and Grogu wrapped his arms around his hand in response. The sound of his laugh made Din chuckle himself. As important as his goal of normalcy was, Din missed the uninterrupted time he used to have with his son. There was a lot wrong with their previous adventures, a lot of danger, but nothing beat the long days in hyperspace and hiding where his only responsibility was to care for the child. “I heard you’ve been giving Peli trouble.”

Grogu laughed again⏤ not even attempting to hide his guilt. Peli wagged her finger in his direction once more. “You see? It’s only a matter of time until he swallows one of my tools. Then what would we do? I’d be a tool short!”

“I’m sorry, Peli.” Din chuckled. “School will be starting up soon. You won’t have to watch him during the day then.”

“He’ll still need watching after, won’t he? Your work day isn’t done until evening!” Peli argued. “And what about the nights when you get called into work?”

Din winced, but he kept his head still so Peli wouldn’t notice. She wasn’t wrong. There had been a handful of times when Din's presence was required at the station and he was forced to drop Grogu off with Peli in the dead of night. She lived in a small apartment beside the shop, and her shop was on the way from their home to the station. Stopping to leave Grogu with her was too easy to resist. It wasn't like he could leave the child at home alone.

Grogu began to tap on the side of Din’s helmet and he began to bounce the child in his arms to distract him. “I’m sorry, Peli. I really appreciate everything you do for us. You know that, right?” Peli waved his words away with a huff. As brash and grumpy as the woman could be, especially on a busy day, he knew Peli loved spending time with Grogu and he knew that complaints aside she’d always be willing to help out. It was why he was so grateful for her. “My hands are tied right now. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Hire someone, you lug!” Peli scoffed. “Get a live-in nanny.”

“Live-in nanny?” Din questioned, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“Yeah. Someone who can watch little bright eyes around the clock when you can’t. Someone who’ll be there at 3AM when you get called into the office. Why do I gotta come up with all the good ideas around here?”

Din didn’t love the idea, but he couldn’t deny the merits of it. Once upon a time, he would’ve shot it down immediately. However, he wasn’t who he once was. Din had learned that going out on a branch to trust someone didn’t always end bloody. The community was filled with people Din had taken a chance on and was rewarded in his risk. He had friends he trusted, and they never would've been in his life if he hadn't taken the risk in the first place.

“Where…” Din cleared his throat. “Where would I even find one?”

“Whoop, whoop!” Din and Peli both turned to see a mechanic a few feet away. They had been buried under a speeder bike but jumped up in excitement. Dirty goggles hung around her neck and the light pink color of her skin made the black grease stains stand out more. “Howdy, Marshal Mando.”

“Nima.” Din greeted with a nod. He didn’t know every single person who worked for Peli, but Nima was Peli’s right hand mechanic. The young Twi’lek was extraordinary with a wrench if Peli was to be believed, and Din knew it took a lot to impress the older woman. “How are you?”

“Real swell.” Nima stepped closer, rubbing her hands on a rag tucked into her overall pocket. “Not to be nosy, but I heard you got a job that needs filling and I have a cousin who needs a job.” Din tilted his head and waited for her to elaborate. “My cousin is moving here⏤ well, let me clarify, she’s not my actual cousin by blood. We’re cousins by marriage. Her mom’s sister married my mom’s brother. We⏤ wait, they actually got divorced like a year ago so I don’t know if we technically⏤”

“Nima!” Peli barked. “The point!”

“Right, right, right.” Nima shook her head. “My maybe not cousin is moving to town, and she’s looking for work.”

Din lifted a hand to lightly grasp Grogu’s hands as the kid tried to pry his helmet up. “Does she have experience with kids?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Nima nodded. “She’s a superstar with kids. Total magic.”

Peli slapped her hand against the beskar of his chest plate then pointed at him. Din sighed and gave them both a slight nod. “I’d be willing to meet her, but that’s it. No promises.”

“She’ll be in town by the end of the week!” Nima cheered. “I’ll bring her around!”

Grogu began to whine, and Din thanked both women before making his way out of the garage. It was time for dinner and the child was quick to get fussy when a meal wasn’t on its way. Plus, Grogu had gotten accustomed to nights in the privacy of their home when Din would remove his helmet. It had become a part of their routine.

“Buir, buir, buir.” Grogu chanted.

“I know, I know.” Din chuckled as he unlocked the front door. Once in, he used his free hand to pull his helmet off and tucked it under his elbow with a smile.

Grogu patted his face in excitement. “Buir!”

“Let’s get some dinner ready, ad’ika.” Din stepped further in. Hearing Grogu speak Mando’a warmed his heart. Hearing him speak at all warmed his heart, really. Din was convinced his son knew more basic and Mando’a than he’d shown. The few things he did say he only said in the safety of their home. Another reason Din was excited for school to start, he hoped it’d excite Grogu into speaking more.

Din set the boy down so he could move around the kitchen easier, and he couldn’t bite back the smile of ease on his face. He loved his life, he loved his son, and Din didn’t think things could get more perfect than what it was right now. He just hoped adding in a new face wouldn’t disrupt their routine.

You absentmindedly let your fingers trace the ugly, jagged scar along your collarbone. The wound had healed months ago, but there was something about the rough skin that haunted you. It didn’t hurt. If anything the tissue there was numb, and that bothered you more than anything else. For some reason, it felt wrong that you weren’t in pain.

The transport ship rumbled to a stop as it landed, and it snapped you back into the moment. You straightened in your seat and glanced out the window. A year and a half ago nobody ever spoke of Nevarro. It had been a blip in the Outer Rim for bounty hunters and those hiding from the New Republic. Now, it was a bustling trade post flourishing with life. From where your ship sat on the landing pad, you could see the white and gray buildings of Nevarro stretching out into the black, glassed land of the mountains that sat on the edge of the lava plains. It still wasn't a very large community. Not yet, at least. Your eyes scanned the land beside the landing pad. You had lived in the beautiful greenery of Naboo, the bustling cities of Coruscant, and the sandy dunes of Tatooine. This was vastly different in comparison.

You let a few others leave before rising yourself. As you followed the very small crowd off the ship you stretched your legs out best you could without stopping. It had been a long trip from Mos Espa to Nevarro. The second your feet stepped onto the landing pad you heard your name being screamed by a familiar voice. It was almost odd to hear it said aloud after so much time, but the voice of your old friend kept you from flinching. A broad smile crossed your features and you barely had time to turn before you were tackled in a hug.

“Oh, I missed you so much!” Nima cheered in your ear. She squeezed you tight enough that all you could manage was a small pat on her back considering she had your arms pinned to your side.

“I missed you too.” You wheezed. “And now I’m beginning to miss air.”

Nima released you, taking a step back, and you sucked in a large breath. She bounced in place, her pink lekku whipping around her, “I’m so happy you’re finally here! It’s been way, way too long!” It was true, and seeing Nima brightened your mood significantly. “How was your trip-”

The beginnings of your name began to slip from her mouth, but your hand snapped out to cover her lips. Her eyebrows rose in confusion, and you just offered her a sheepish smile. "Soran. Call me Soran. Remember?" Her eyes widened and you could see a flash of regret in her eyes. She had simply forgotten. "It's okay. No biggie. Just... Soran, okay?"

"I'm so sorry. I just got so excited." Nima apologized. "Don't worry, I didn't use your real name with anyone in town or anything." You nodded and made your way to where luggage was being placed on the landing pad from the storage bin. Nima walked a step behind you. You scooped up your bag, wrapping it around your shoulders, and Nima looped one arm through yours. "I'm so happy you're here."

The words were said with such sincerity that it warmed your heart. It made you wish you had taken her up on her offer ages ago. She began to drag you across the landing pad toward the start of the town. Her cheery attitude and happy-go-lucky demeanor was contagious. She was talking up a storm, something about work, while you gazed at the street you walked down. The path was paved and the street was filled with people milling about happily. A few vendors sold goods in the open at stalls, and you could hear the music of a band from further down the street. It was a cozy and warm atmosphere, and it wasn't the kind of place you expected Nima to settle down.

You met Nima during your teenage years when part of her family married part of yours. The two of you had grown close and without a doubt she was one of your closest friends. Family really. It was why at your absolute lowest you had caved and accepted her invitation to join her in Nevarro. Nima worked at a local mechanic shop which turned out to be her calling. She had always been good at tinkering with anything mechanical, but she was thriving under the instruction of the woman she worked for. At least, that's what she was constantly telling you. Nima had found her happy place, and you were ecstatic for her.

“⏤and Peli is still awesome.” Nima continued. “When we're not busy, she's letting me work on this old Razor Crest with her. It's some sort of secret project and the ship is in really bad shape, but I'm learning so much. It’s the best job ever.”

“That’s amazing, Nima.”

“Oh! And speaking of awesome jobs, I got you one.”

Your eyes widened. “Huh?”

“A job and a place to live. I got it covered.”

“Wow. I’m…seriously impressed, Nima. So, that means your boss is okay with me helping around the shop with inventory and stuff?”

Nima paused, then cursed in her native tongue. “I knew I was forgetting to do something. I was supposed to ask Peli about you.”

“If you didn’t ask her if I could work there, then where am I working?” You questioned in confusion.

“So, the Marshal has this super cute kid, and he needs a round the clock nanny.” Nima gave you a thumbs up. You blinked in shock, unable to find the words to voice your disbelief. She took this as a victory cheered. “I knew you’d love it.”

You shook your head. “No, no. This is a bad idea.”

“What? No way.” Nima shook her head with a pout. “You need a job and you need a place to live. I got you both in one. Two porgs, one blaster.”

“I⏤That’s⏤You said it wrong.” You said.

Nima furrowed her brow at you. “No, I think you just don’t get it. It means, like, you have two problems, the two porgs, and one solution takes care of both. One blaster.”

“It’s two porgs, one stone.”

“Why would I use a stone to hit a porg when I have a blaster?”

“You wouldn’t, but if you had a blaster you could shoot way more than just two porgs.”

“Yeah, but you only have two porgs right now.”

You waved your arms in the air as if you could swipe away the pointless argument. “This is⏤ No. We're done with that. My point is, this is not a good idea. I’ve never been a nanny before. The last time I baby-sat a kid was literally ages ago, and it was for a few evenings. I didn't live with the kid or the family.”

“You’re great with kids. I’ve seen it!” Nima argued in your favor.

“Being good with kids is not the same as helping raise one.”

Nima shrugged. “Nuance. Besides, everything else in town right now is part time work and you said you wanted a full time job.” You had said that. The more time you spent busy, the less time you had to think. That was the plan at least Bury yourself in pointless work. “I mean, you could pick up the job of local physician.”

You stiffened. “Nima⏤”

“Our main doctor sucks. Like you wouldn’t believe. Laziest asshole this side of the Outer Rim. It's the one fault of Nevarro in my opinion.” Nima scoffed. “You would do so much better⏤”

“Don’t.” You said firmly, and Nima grew quiet. “I’m not… I’m not doing that right now. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m not allowed to⏤ to⏤” You cleared your throat. “I’m not allowed to practice medicine until the trial is over. Officially.”

Nima squeezed your arm. “The trial will be over before the year's end, at the latest, and there is no way they aren’t throwing that kriffing asshole in jail for the rest of his miserable life.” This was the exact thing you wanted to avoid. It’s literally why you ran away in the first place. “Nothing about what happened was your fault.”

“Nima, can we not?” You blurted. “I just…” Your lungs felt heavy and even though you were more than capable of breathing none of the air you sucked in was rewarding. “Tell me more about the job. The Marshal’s kid.”

Nima shot you a concerned look before nodding. “Right.” She forced a smile onto her face. “He’s a Mandalorian and his son is a 50 year old precious, green gremlin.”

“Um, what?”

Nevarro was shockingly beautiful. You had heard it was, and that it was slowly becoming a staple of the Outer Rim, but hearing it was different than seeing it with your own eyes. The population was about four thousand and it was constantly growing. Every single person you passed took the time to greet Nima, and she took the time to introduce you. It hadn’t been an exaggeration when Nima said it was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone. The two of you emptied out at the end of a street into a large, open plaza. In it's center sat a tall bronze statue of a droid.

“That's the Magistrate's building.” Nima pointed to the tall, intricate building behind the droid statue. It was active with people going up and down the stairs that led into the building. “Magistrate Karga is super cool. He used to hand out bounties to hunters. Wild shit.”

“So, the Magistrate was an Agent of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild and your Marshal is an actual Mandalorian?”

Nima nodded. “The Marshal's Deputy used to be a Shock Trooper.”

“Wow. I’m not sure I’m qualified to even live here.” You mumbled.

“Don’t be silly. You’ll fit right in.” Nima slotted her hand into yours and began to drag you down the street. She had taken you to her small apartment first, to give you time to set down your belongings and wash up, but she was quick to pull you back out into the streets. It was cute how eager she was to show you around Nevarro, and you could tell between her and everyone you met how proud they were of their community.

Nima pointed out a few shops as you passed, but it was clear that her aim was to take you to the Marshal's station. You shot her a dry look that she only grinned at in response.

“Seriously?”

“He needs somebody super soon and you need a job. Plus, a place to live. You think I want you on my couch for the rest of your life?”

You shoved her with a laugh. “I haven’t slept on your couch a single night yet, and you’re already tired of me?”

“Just come on.” Nima dragged you building nestled amongst others. It was decorated similar as the rest of the town with white bricks and dark blue flags.

The Marhsal's station wasn’t overly large. Outside, parked to the side, were a few speeders and inside the front doors was a small lobby with a woman sitting behind a desk. Nima greeted her by name, introducing you in a rush, before pulling you through. The receptionist didn’t seem surprised by this behavior and didn’t make the moves to stop either of you. You wondered if Nima came barging in here often. Was she close to the Marshal?

The hallway from the lobby led into a clean and brightly lit room. The back wall was made of windows where the lava plains could be seen since the station was at the edge of town, and there were three desks planted in the center of the room. Off to the left side were two cells, cordoned off with silver bars, and you found yourself happy to see no one was currently being held in custody. Despite having the cells present, the entire room had a casual feel to it. A dart board was hung up on a wall, darts sticking out of it, and the desks were covered in office supplies and holopads.

“What’re you doing here, trouble maker?”

“Cara!” Nima cheered as a large woman stepped into the room from a different door. She untangled her hand from yours to rush over and greet this Cara woman with a hug. She was tall and broad, and the tattoo band around her right upper arm hinted to you that this must be the Deputy Nima mentioned earlier. The ex-shock trooper. She surely looked like someone who used to work in that line of action. “I brought my cousin by to say hello!”

Cara’s dark eyes rolled over to you in amusement. “Yeah. I see the family resemblance.”

"This is Soran." Nima introduced you with the name you had adopted months ago for the sake of anonymity. “And this is Deputy Cara Dune. Resident badass.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You offered your hand. “Can I call you Cara or do you prefer Deputy badass or…?”

Cara chuckled. “Cara works.”

“Where is everyone?” Nima glanced around the room. “I’m looking for Marshal Mando.”

“Hey, Mando!” Cara yelled back through the door she came in from. She marched past the two of you to drop down into a chair at a desk. She rested her hands behind her head and casually kicked up her legs. “Our generator out back keeps cutting out.”

Nima's eyes widened, curious, “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s been a wreck since early this morning.”

“Cara, it’s making that noise again. Can you call Peli?” A deeper, modulated voice called out. You straightened in your posture as a Mandalorian dressed in silver beskar stepped into the room. Everything you knew about Mandalorians came from legend and stories. You had never met one before. The Marshal’s broad figure and confident, yet casual pace, screamed power. A blaster was hooked to his hip. He was the picture of intimidation, and you’d find yourself nervous if it weren’t for the baby carrier strapped around his chest⏤ the one with a large eared, small green toddler tucked safely in place. It cooed happily with his hands wrapped around the fingers of the Mandalorians gloved hand.

Nima clapped her hands. “Don’t bother Peli! I’ll fix it right now!”

“I’ll show you where it’s at.” Cara pushed up.

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out and you watched in shock as your friend abandoned you with the Mandalorian and child. You blinked in shock, mouth held open. Suddenly, Nima stuck her head back in the room. “Oops. Mr. Marshal Mandalorian, this is my cousin I was telling you about.” She grinned at you. “Cousin, this is the mighty Marshal Mandalorian and his adorable green bean child I told you about.”

With no further words, she left once more. You were gonna kill her. Most definitely. The sound of a throat clearing made your eyes snap back to the man standing across from you. His silver helmet had a t-shaped visor of black glass that gave you no hint at the expression he wore. The two of you just stared at one another for a long moment. Awkward silences were the bane of your existence and you tried to avoid them at all costs. To a fault, arguably. You thrust a hand out to him with a nervous smile. "Hi. You can call me Soran. I'm the cousin Nima always talks about, but I'm not her actual cousin, er..."

"Right." The Mandalorian replied. He shook your hand. "Call me Mando."

"Mando? Like, short for Mandalorian?" You chuckled, and he didn't reply. You rubbed your hands against your pants. Thank the Maker, he had been wearing gloves and couldn’t feel your clammy palms. If you hadn't already decided to murder Nima for abandoning you in this situation, you would've chosen to do it for offering your services to this man. A service you weren't even qualified for. Still, you needed work, a lot of it, and if this was your best option you'd do what you'd have to. “So, is this your son?”

At the question, the child began to babble happily. His adorable, nonsensical words were a good distraction from beating yourself up over asking such a stupid question.

“Yes. This is Grogu.” He responded. The modulator gave his voice a husky quality that was hard not to notice. Grogu was still babbling, but now he released his father’s hands to reach out to you. He opened and closed his hands in a grabbing motion and at the small child’s request you couldn’t help but lift a hand up to him. Grogu grasped at your finger and you offered him a small smile. “Nima says you’re looking for a job.”

Your eyes snapped up from the kid to Mando. “Uh, yes. I am.” It was silent between the two of you again, save for Grogu’s happy voice. “To be honest though…" Your brain screamed at you to lie. Tell him you had an extensive history of babysitting and were well suited for the job. However, lying had never come natural to you. It always left a terrible taste in your mouth. You sighed, "I’m by no means a professional nanny. I’m actually not even an amateur one.” Mando didn’t respond or move his head in any way to hint his thoughts. You cleared your throat. “What I mean is, I like kids, and I’m responsible enough to keep one alive." You winced at your wording. "I just- I’m a quick learner and I'm dedicated to the work I put my mind to.” Grogu tilted his head in the cutest manner you had ever seen, but his father stayed silent. You let out a low whistle. “I am not doing a very good job of selling myself, am I?”

As seconds passed, you were tempted to throw yourself out the back window and find the nearest river of lava to jump into. Just to hide from your embarrassment. Finally, he spoke, “Where are you from?”

Your eyes widened at the direction his question took this conversation. “Oh. Naboo. I was born there, grew up there too, but I lived in Coruscant for a long, long time. Only recently moved to Mos Espa on Tatooine. That's where I just came from.”

“What kind of work do you usually do?”

As if this casual interview couldn’t get worse. You rolled various answers around in your head before settling on the best thing you could. “I worked in a medical clinic.” He was quiet and you assumed that meant he wanted more. As much as you hated lying, as terrible as it made you feel, this was a necessity you reminded yourself. This kind of lie wouldn't hurt anyone. It would protect you, keep you safe. “Receptionist." You blurted. "I scheduled appointments, re-supplied the stock, counted out credits. That kind of stuff.”

“Work…keeps me busy.” Mando said. “I just need someone else around. Keep an eye on the kid while I’m out and sometimes at night if I get called in.” Your eyebrows rose. “I haven’t ever hired a nanny before. I’m... not sure what it’s supposed to entail or the usual pay. I just need help.”

You nodded. “I can do that. I can be helpful. I’m not sure of the pay either, but I’m also not picky. Maybe just a trial period, and see how it goes? A learning curve for both of us.”

Mando nodded in agreement and held out a hand for you to shake. A sigh of relief left you and you tried to pull your hand away from Grogu who refused to let go of your fingers. You lifted your opposite hand to awkwardly grasp his outstretched hand and shook it once. You didn't quite know how to feel about this acquisition. This wasn't where you thought your life would end up. The thought of starting this job filled your belly with nervous energy. You had to succeed at this. Honestly, you were just happy the Mandalorian was willing to give you a chance. More than anything that was what your life needed. A chance. An opportunity. A fresh start. On the plus side, learning how to do a completely new job would be a good enough distraction from your past, surely.

A/N: if you see this on AO3 and think ‘omg she stole this’, I promise I didn’t. That’s me on AO3 too. Pinky swear.

#the mandalorian #din djaren #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Female reader #mandalorian and grogu #grogu is a little shit #but a cute little shit #cara dune #peli motto #nevarro #star wars #i'm still stupid bad at tags #but whatever #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #nanny AU

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archfey-edda · 4 months

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Finally allowed to share my piece for @forcefatalezine ! So many talented artists, writers, and cosplayers, all a delight to work with on this massive project.

#cara dune #the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #baby yoda #star wars fanart

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rskacreates · 2 years

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MORE BABYSITTING SHENANIGANS!!! LETS GOOOOO LMAO!!! Based on that one TikTok

#star wars #star wars fanart #the mandalorian #luke skywalker #din and grogu #grogu djarin #fennec shand #cara dune #din djarin #mando and luke #luke and grogu #mando squad #dinluke #FOR THAT CLOUT LMAO #Luke’s the only one slightly responsible there

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penvisions · 30 days

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 18}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: There are restrictions for entering the main city, some of them Din could agree to and one he absolutely could not. His helmet would need to be left behind, but isn't removing it what caused this entire situation to begin with? Meanwhile, you wake to a new environment, cautious of the things around you and the words of your mother.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, thoughts of self-harm, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: more din pov! because it's so much fun and there are some things y'all need to see through his eyes before some explanations are given c;

all of you were right to think din is gonna need a disguise! but i don't want anyone to think that the desert environment and the choice of clothing is ignorant on my part in light of what is going on in palestine. i've had this original arc planned before the first chapter was even published. here are some resources for aiding those that need help. i've also provided a link to the moodboard for this particular arc, which does include a visual for din's new attire

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Maker, your mother was really doing her best to keep you to herself. It was smart to warn the protection around you of him, to anticipate that he would make an attempt to take you back. But he loathed how much harder it was going to make even just getting into the city.

The weapons he could forgo, but his armor? She knew from her past experience with Akiz that it was a punishable offense for a Mandalorian to remove their helmet. And it was frustrating that she was using his religion, his Creed, his culture, his way of life to keep him at bay and to keep you under her control.

It was an injustice he couldn’t wrap his head around. It was just so conniving, and it was hard to believe how you had turned out so drastically different when being surrounded by someone capable of such extremes. He only hoped that your mother hadn’t done anything drastic to you, caused you to take matters into your own hands. He only hoped that you knew he had spent the last several weeks tearing through the galaxy in search for signs of what had happened to you. That he had rushed toward the planet you were taken to the second he had found it out.

Din needed you to know that he was trying, that he was searching for you, that he missed your presence by his side and aboard his ship. And not simply for the fact that you were a strong, capable fighter. But because the things he had whispered and promised you before he ruined it all were true. He did care for you. He had begun to care for you alarmingly fast after that first encounter.

And maybe it should’ve scared him, been a warning he heeded, the way his heart had lightened and opened up to you. Even despite the circumstances and the breaking of his contract with the Guild. He had been willing to change the circumstances, to do away with the contract he took on when his fingers closed around your offered tracking fob. Because it had felt right to do so, despite the inherent break of what he stood for in that moment. His willingness to do so, it only made him realize that this was real, because he had never felt like this with anyone before. Had never wanted to provide for anyone aside from those that made up his covert before. He had meant it when he had choked out those words back on Nevarro.

“I can’t wear that.” Din had been cautious as he looked out the cockpit viewpoint and down into the hangar space. The looming racetrack just beyond it, offset from the main city. Crowds and clusters of people swathed in billowing layers and a severe lack of weaponry was a worrisome observation. Upon her return from the markets, offset from the other side of the city, Cara had held out a bundle of clothing to him.

“I did enough recon to know the guards are the only people permitted into the palace without verification. That Sarad’s always surrounded by at least two of them when outside of the palace, though her mother never joins her outside the walls.”

“Because she knows I’d kill her on sight.” Din can’t help the growl of his words, knowing the truth behind them was all too real. Because he would, without hesitation, take out the threat that had presented itself after lying in wait. Striking at the most opportune moment even months after having first contracted your return to her when it seemed like it was fruitless.

“This the only way you’ll get close enough to her, by blending in.” Cara shimmied the bundle at him, wanting him to take it from her despite his trepidation.

“My face will be exposed.” He argued as he stepped away from her. His mind and thoughts at war with the notion of having to remove his armor and the one of doing it in order to save you. He picked up a grumbling ad’ika from where he had been settled in his pod. Taking a pack of dried jerky from the pouch attached to his belt and handed it to him. Happy coos filled the hull of the ship, Din helping to reach into the pouch for each piece the child devoured.

“They wear head coverings and cover their faces. More than a third of the people I saw. Both men and women. I know it’s not ideal, Din,” Cara risked using the man’s real name. Wanting him to hear her and believe that this was the best way, the only way to move about with having to worry about being stopped or appearing suspicious. Hoping to convince him it was the best scenario to avoid showing his whole face should he have to forgo his helmet. She didn’t seem too keen on having to don similar clothing that left little room to conceal a weapon. “Some have mesh over their eyes.”

Din reached out, taking the outfit from her. He would try it on, get a sense of how he felt in the clothing before making his decision. He had half a mind to fly the ship directly into the palace grounds and open fire until you were safely back in his arms. But realistically he knew that was a terrible plan. The man who you had been promised to was entrenched in the New Republic, someone of high standing and to attack him would bring on a whole new level of concerns into his life, into your life.

Setting ad’ika back down into the pod, Din tucked your cloak around him before making his way to the room.

What use was all his armor and weapons if he couldn’t keep you safe? The thought was sharp in his mind as he set about removing each plate, the clasps snapping in the silence of the ship. He stored them in a crate he had brought from his own ship. In it was the pair of pauldrons you had left behind. The armor settled together tugged at his heart, making his chest tights as he wished for you nestled beside him in his bed much like the beskar in the crate. Closing it and setting a lock on it, he already missed the feel of his vambraces, of the weapons hidden over his frame.

Despite being alone, he kept the cowl about his neck in place. The necklace of his people hidden beneath it and he wondered where the one he had gifted you ended up. The ship foreign to him, giving him pause in removing it as he looked over the robes Cara had collected for him. They were all black. Made of a light, flowing material that would cover his entire body. And he began to pull the wide legged pants over his legs.

The top was less a shirt and more of a tunic, cut shorter in the front to fall just below his waist. It offered coverage of his crotch, while the length billowed out down to his knees on either side. He wondered if he should chance donning the chainmail he had retrieved from your home on Tatooine underneath it. He felt exposed, too vulnerable even as he set about fastening the brown leather harness to cross over his chest from his shoulders and the belt that had an empty pouch fastened to it on his left.

Two arm braces made of bronze had been folded up in the clothing, and he slid those over his forearms, grateful for at least something similar.

Thankfully Cara had been able to find something that would allow him to cover his face- mostly. His eyes would be exposed, and he wouldn’t be entirely comfortable forgoing a visor or something similar to hide them behind.

But he set about containing his trimmed curls underneath the cover, wrapping it around twice before securing it with a black leather tie around his forehead, letting the rest of the fabric fall over the back of his neck and shoulders. The smaller black kerchief was secured over the cowl, adding another layer to hide his identity from the world, fastened behind his head and tucked into the leather keeping the head cover in place.

It would be harder for him to track you, to pick up on threats without the settings of the helmet, but he knew that it would immediately warrant attention. He had to leave it behind, depart from the ship without it. It was the only way he would be able to do his own reconnaissance.

Sighing, he turned to face the mirror set into the wall beside the door.

He didn’t recognize the man staring back at him. He was swathed in flowing black from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. His boots no longer weighed down with a hidden blade or the ring of bullet casings for his pulse rifle.

Sharp brown eyes set under thick, dark brows the only visible part.

Still far too much to be seen. To be witnessed so easily by those around him. By you.

Worry spiked in him, you wouldn’t know it was him. At least, not at first glance. He hoped you would feel a pull to him similar to the one he felt when around you. A comfort in the closeness of your body and presence. A familiarity and sense of connection, the things you had found in each other allowing you to recognize that it was him beneath the different clothing, what was always beneath the armor and helmet.

Self-consciousness, he realized, was the feeling making his stomach flutter and his nerves jittery. He hadn’t been outside of the ship and around people without his armor since he had been inducted into the training corps. He hadn’t been without his helmet since swearing the Creed. The thought of this breeching such a commitment crosses his mind. And while…yes, he had removed his helmet, his face was still concealed.

It was much like the unspoken loophole of removing it in the cover of darkness. The intention of which would have allowed him to give into your pleas for his lips on yours. That he had wanted to do, despite the skimming of lines that should not be crossed. The lines that defined his Creed.

He looked…like one of the natives of the planet. And that was the only consolation he could find in the need for the outfit.

They’re merely walking through the marketplace, when they see you among the stalls. Din’s instincts urging him to turn onto the street.

You’re right there.

You’re real.

You’re okay.

His heart skips a beat and then quickens, nearly vibrating it’s so fast a pitch. His breath stolen from his lungs as he sees you moving among the crowds. You…you’re so beautiful and luck seems to be on his side as you look unharmed. You seem to be at ease, moving from stall to stall with a pair of guards trailing behind you by a few yards. Black flowing robes much like his own, but the rapier style swords fastened to their sides acted as a silent threat. Weapons in the main part of the city were forbidden.

But you…you were so magnetizing, and Din’s feet were carrying him toward the stall you had stopped in front of. Distantly, he heard the hush of Cara warning him to be cautious. But it was as if the world had shrunk down to just you, his eyes tracking you as if you would vanish should he look away for the barest of seconds.

The fabric of your rather elegant dress a mix of soft white and pale cream. It highlighted the natural golden hue of your skin, though the only part visible was the length of your neck down to your chest with a rather low neckline. The supple skin of your breasts was accented by sparkling golden beading along the collar, creating a dip between them where it was concentrated. The bodice of the dress was cinched by an intricate belt made up of diamond jewels set into gold that created a floral shape right over your stomach before the skirt of the dress billowed out in flowing layers.

The sleeves were long, bishop in style, allowing for the fabric to be loose before cinching around your wrists. Allowing for you strong, capable hands to be exposed. Golden designs of lace woven into the fabric of them and the front of you below where the belt rested on your front. You were sparkling, from the bangles around your wrists to the delicate headpiece that kept your hair away from your face. He could see it as you moved about to take in the fruits of the stall, the way that thin netting was laid over the length of your hair, stones glittering in the sun as you did so. You were a vision bathed in white and gold, his brain short circuiting at the sight of you after so long apart.

But you didn’t look to be a captive, aside from the guards keeping close. No, you looked like you were free of worries, complicit in the life you had been stolen away to be a part of. It was as if this was just another day to run errands and take in the sights of the city, no undertones of eyes glancing around to look for an escape. No tension in your muscles as if poised to run at the first chance. And alarm bells sounded in Din’s mind, loud and harsh. Stirring unease in his middle, bubbling up to tighten in his chest.

He couldn’t help but approach you, even if he had no clue what words to breathe should he be able to find his voice. Even if he had no clue how you would react to seeing him after the emotional fallout from so many days ago. But when you turned to him with a smile, lips closed and eyes kind, they only flitted over his face before they moved down along his body toward where ad’ika had popped his head and chest over the top of the bag slung over his shoulder.

He certainly hadn’t expected you to recognize him, he was without his armor. And though you knew the shape of his body and the way it reacted to your touch; you didn’t know him as he stood beside you now. In flowing black robes and brown leather, a head cover secure over his curls and a flowing material hiding his face aside from his eyes. He realized you wouldn’t be able to recognize them, having never seen the brown of them before. And he greedily drunk in the sight of you without his helmet, delighting in the way the sun lit up the features he had come to admire.

But your attention wasn’t even on him, it was on the small form that had reached out for the bundle of berries in your grip. Plucking one and popping it in his mouth with a satisfied hum. But there was no recognition that flickered over your face upon seeing ad’ika either. It was as if you were seeing him for the first time, a polite curiosity in your gaze. And Din’s gut lurched.

It hadn’t been long enough for you to forget the child, forget him. Forget the life the three of you had carved out from circumstance. Unless you were playing along to not alert the guards of being reunited, not wanting them to suspect anything was amiss. But…but Din didn’t think you were pretending. There had been no fast glance back to him upon seeing the child crop up, there had been no hitch of your breath as realization of him standing beside you set in.

It was as if you didn’t know him at all, know the small form of the child holding your adoring attention.

“Well, hello there, little one.” Your voice was so smooth and calming, like silk against his ears after having not heard it in so many days. He watched as you tilted the bowl closer, making it easier for a tiny green claw to retrieve another berry. A laugh bubbled from you as the child smacked on the fruit, happy sounds flowing from him unbidden.

And then, with a simple question, Din’s heart shattered.

“He’s rather cute, is this your child?”

You had focused your attention back up to him, though you avoided his eyes again. Something he was beginning to think was just a part of every version of you. Because the one standing in front of him was not his own. It couldn’t be.

Words, so many of them, burst to life and died on his tongue in the silence between you two. None of them making it past his lips, his voice lost in injustice of finally being reunited with you and you having no clue as to who he was. Of how much you had been through together, the promises you had whispered to each other, the soft sighs of waking up together, the harsh grunts and desperate whimpers shared between yearning bodies. You had no clue what you meant to him. The only thing he was certain of, was that he was a stranger to you.

Clearing his throat, he managed to utter an affirmative to your gentle question.

“I’ve never seen any like him before, he seems like the sweetest thing.”

And he wanted to tell you that you allowed for him to be so, for the child to have the protection of your skills and caring heart to be just a child after being held a captive for so long. That he had stolen him away from those who wished him harm with your aid. But suddenly, you were being approached by the vendor, your attention splitting from them both beside you.

“Ma’am, you’ll have to pay for- oh, Princess Cala. I’m so sorry.” Strict words and steal façade falling as the man approaching realized who you were. Princess. Because that’s what you were, had been swiped from him to be another’s wife. All memories of your commitment to him forgotten in a cruel twist of fate that Din was determined to get to the bottom of. To rectify. Though he had no clue how to even begin such a daunting task as he was still struggling to accept that it was so. “I was unaware you were in the markets today. Please, take whatever you wish. I will send for payment from Sir Cala at the end of the day.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright.” You appeased gently, hands digging into a small pouch hidden among the layers of your dress. Credits clinked as you set them down atop the table, the jingling of your bracelets catching ad’ika’s attention and he reached for them. “It’s just a little snack today, nothing too crazy.”

As the vendor turned back to duck inside, away from the bright sun and the watching eyes of the guards, it happened.

Ad’ika’s skin connected with your own and you were buckling at the sudden energy that Din could feel flow between you both. Ripples of is cascading through the air. Body overwhelmed and knees weakening at the onslaught as a strangled gasp fell from your lips. Just as you had done back at the compound, history repeating itself in a way he hadn’t expected. He was quick to close the distance, to wrap his arms around you and hold you up. You allowed him to pull you close, your chest flush with his as heaving breaths matched his stuttering ones.

His body igniting at the feel of you against him once again. Of the way your hands gripped his arms to support yourself. The prick of your fingers digging into his muscles and the way your mouth had fallen open in surprise. It was all so normal, the reactions of your body against his. Natural, the magnetism between your bodies making everything feel alright even if it was just for the barest second.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la. Are you alright?” Voice low, he felt it robbed from him when your lashes fluttered, and your eyes met for the first time. They glinted with something and then –

“Unhand the princess, no one is to touch her!” Twin forms of the guards watching over you were suddenly closing in. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to not take all your weight securely into his arms and run. Hush of swords being pulled from their sheaths had you tearing your eyes away from him, had you shifting your footing to hold yourself up a little better though you didn’t let go of him. And he was grateful for the prolonged seconds of getting to feel you in his arms.

“It’s alright!” You assured the guards, halting them in their steps with a polite smile. “I just tripped is all!”

Loosening the hold he had on you, his hands remained steady as you stepped back from him to stand on your own once again. He was aware of the hard looks aimed at him, as distance bloomed between your bodies.

Endlessly considerate and caring toward the ad’ika, even if you didn’t know it, you carefully handed the bushel of berries into his small claws.

You were bidding him goodbye with an impersonal bow. And he wished to feel the unspoken greeting and departing habit of your forehead nudged against his own you two had established over the course of your time together.

He fell in line behind them, a safe distance away to not attract their attention or suspicions. His focus so completely on you, the captivation you held over him even now, especially now, spelling his feet forward through the last of the market and through the streets. He was silent as Cara fell into step beside him, questions flowing from her that fell on his straining ears. You were talking with the guards, though it seemed like you were merely confirming the rest of the plans for the day.

And they would know, they would be by your side every time you left the palace, he mused as he watched your trio wait outside of the large wooden doors that led into the place you now called home. It was surrounded by a large, easily fifteen-foot wall made up of decorative tiles and white stone. He caught a glimpse of large gardens, complete with bright blue ponds and lush plant life making a beautiful backdrop to your form. But his eyes snapped back to you, taking notice of how the guards had begun to walk away and toward a small building that must act as their command center. They were replaced by two young women, dressed in long pale blue layers that followed your every step.

As you began to move along the paths lined throughout the garden, a figure approached you. And the tension Din had been worried to not see in your shoulders seemed to slam into you. The figure moved from beneath the shade of a large palm, having been waiting on a bench. It was a woman, one who bore a strong resemblance to you from tone of skin to the color of your eyes. Your mother.

Arms were slung together and Din could see even with the distance how her touch made you uncomfortable. And it was all so confusing. You remembered your mother, memories of her intact but you had somehow forgotten who he was, who ad’ika was. Forgotten who you were enough to not make an attempt to escape, submitting yourself to the life your mother had created for you.

And then, a man in elaborate robes adorned with jewels and lace designs much like your own approached you both. He was dressed in colors that complimented your own clothing. His own jewelry fastened over his head cover much like yours, though decidedly heavier, more masculine to the dainty feminine of yours. Matching.

A hand came over his shoulder as he realized he was breathing harshly, no helmet to disguise the deep push and pull of it as he watched you disentangle from your mother and step into the man’s personal space. The front of your bodies touching together as his hands splayed wide on your shoulders, as your own wrapped around his neck. As you perked up to press your forehead to his, in the way that was Din’s.

His chest hurt, his hands clenched, body alight with the need to rush forward and tear the two of you apart from each other. His ears hurt with the silence pressing against them too firm to shake. To press his own forehead against your own and plead with you to see him, to remember him. Remember what you meant to each other.

It was a small blessing of the Maker that your back was to him, because he didn’t think he would be able to take the way your gaze had softened as you looked into the eyes of the man holding you. The same one he would find aimed at him throughout the day, mirth in your eyes as your lips pulled into a soft smile. Adoration and admiration soothing the concentrated look you normally held. Not when the man looking back at you held the same exact expression.

The one always hidden behind his visor.

The same face that was now hardened in a flurry of emotions, his jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding, and eyes ablaze as he watched the man dip his face and press his lips to yours in a kiss.

A kiss.

The very thing that had unraveled the entire life you two had created out of circumstance and connection, the very thing you now shared with another.

Your easy laughter was what brought his senses back, though it was cut off from him as quickly as it had been delivered as you began to walk hand in hand with the man down the path leading to the palace entrance.

Din’s mind was working, working, working. Trying to figure it out, trying to come up it a way to figure it out. To rectify it. To make it right. To make everything right.

And as if a chip was falling into place, he realized. They could fall into line as a guard and a handmaiden.

It was so obvious, so easy, the plan coming together in his mind as the wooden doors swung shut and stole you away from his watching gaze.

“Mando…” Cara’s voice was gentle, as if she was worried she would startle him. Spur him into movement toward you, tackling the obstacles that stood between you both despite the consequences. “I don’t know exactly what-“

“We’ll talk back at the ship.” His words were rough, voice rumbling as if he had just swallowed gravel. It felt thick in his throat, coating his tongue and making it hard to speak.

“It’s customary for visitors to stay in the tourism sector.”

“I’m…low on credits.” He admitted, aware that his words were carried on deep exhales, air hard and solid when breathed in. Aching, hurting, stinging in his throat as he closed his eyes to rid himself of the image of you embraced so intimately with that man, with your husband. But the image was burned into the backs of his eyelids, pressing on him even as he clenched them shut.

“Good thing I’m not. Let’s go, I have a feeling you’re going to tell me this isn’t going to be as simple as sneaking in at night and whisking her away.”

Din followed the woman’s lead through the city, through the gates and toward the collection of tourism amenities. The sounds of the ocean waves getting louder the further they moved away from the palace.

The suite was grand, decorated lavishly in soft earth tones. Bright jewel tones accenting it all around.

But Din’s eyes were unfocused, unseeing as they stared down at the carpet, his head in his hands as he sat rigidly on the couch. With a deep breath pulled in and then let out, he deflated. Chest tight like he was being retrained with ropes, his limbs tingling as if the blood was having trouble flowing through them. His nerves felt both numb and overwhelmed all at the same time.

Cara just paced around the room, searching for potential bugs while she ensured ad’ika was settled in a chair with the fruit you had bought for them in a bowl for him to occupy himself. Din’s voice returned to him when he felt the couch shift with her weight on the other side.

“She doesn’t know who I am.”

“I wouldn’t recognize you, Mando, it’s just the clothes. I’m sure she was just pretending to be clueless to avoid suspicion. She saw ad’ika and even got him those berries.”

“No. Cara.” He surged up, feeling the need to move. To be on his feet, his mind hurling endless self-depreciating thoughts. This was all his fault, you were in the arms of another man because of him, your mother had been able to snatch you away because of his carelessness. His lack of speed when chasing after you, his lack of ability to have tracked you down and bring you back to the Crest as quickly as possible. He had failed you, he had failed you beyond comprehension and you didn’t even remember it.

He meant nothing to you, he was a stranger to you. While you willingly lived alongside that man who had every intention of letting you know how much he wanted you, desired you, who kriffing kissed you.

Aware of her eyes on him, Din paced back and forth in front of the couch. Feeling the need to move, to run, to chase, to track, to fix. She was watching him, a conflicted look about her features as she thought over the things they witnessed. The blatant issues that they had to move around in order to get to you.

Maker, what if…what if you shared the man’s bed. That would add another layer of complication to breaking you free of your imprisonment. Was it even imprisonment anymore? Did it qualify if you didn’t know the people who surrounded you were the ones who had manipulated you so completely, so intricately that they had somehow wiped your memory and fed you a story of what they wanted their lives to be in order to make it a reality?

Even if he could manage to convince you that you weren’t meant to be a dank ferrick princess in a palace, how would he prove to you that you were meant to be with him? His ship was old, needed repairs too often, his way of life, it all paled in comparison to the residence you had now, the quality of life you had now. How was he supposed to make you understand that he cared about you and that you cared about him if you didn’t know who he was?

Your mother certainly knew what she was doing. From the wiping of your memory to make it harder for him to convince you that your life was a sham, a lie, a false thing made up by those around you to the warning posters of him plastered around the city. The version of you he knew was wary of strangers and he would bet everything in his name that you still held that reservation. That anything he or Cara had to say wouldn’t be taken lightly, most likely result in their immediate order of removal should you find them guilty of trying to manipulate you.

“She doesn’t remember me. Or ad’ika. Her mother must’ve done something to her. There was no recognition in her eyes.” Heart thudding hard in his aching chest, Din couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through him. “I’m nothing to her.”

Darkness and the pull of the cold feeling drumming through your veins lightening ever so slightly as you begin to rouse, body limp and not heeding your commands to move. Alone. You’re alone. Metal clinking and heavy around your wrists and ankles. Around your neck.

You’re shackled, restrained, drugged.

Like so many times before, like you had never wanted to be again.

It’s quiet, unnervingly so.

Opening your eyes doesn’t allow you more of the setting you’re in, only darkness of the room you’re hidden away in. Gravity lurches and you know, can sense it: that you’re aboard a ship that has just taken off into the air. Traveling and distance growing, taking you away from them. From him.

Had he even realized you were gone? That you had been seeking solace, a way to return to him without shame prickling your skin and guilt flooding you, body tight and mind remorseful.

Everything was a haze. Everything jumbled up into a messy recollection. The pleasure that had been igniting you, the feel of his fingers deep and hitting that spot just right, building you up and tearing down your inhibitions. Enough so that you had pleaded with him for the one thing you knew he wouldn’t give you. And then it was gone, shifting to rejection. The blank, emotionless helmet shielding the way he must’ve been so repulsed by your question, your desperation to have more of him when he had already given you so much. Needy, selfish, you had been so wrapped up in him that you had offended him beyond words. Warped the path you two had been traveling together, guiding him without realizing it, off the distinguished trail and into the unknown. To the forbidden. Toward sin.

You had tried to convince him to break his Creed.

Heart heavy and mind trying to piece everything back together, you convulsed. Shocks ripping through you at the sudden movement.

Whimpering, you felt it was more than deserved. This punishment, being forced to submit once again at the hands of your mother. All of it was because of the temptation you had dared to whisper to a man so devoted. He would’ve lost everything had he followed you into it. From the very identity of himself to the new standing of a clan he had just been granted. All gone.

And for what? A measly kiss with someone who didn’t even know how to want without asking for too much. A shared mingling of breath and teeth and tongue with someone who should’ve been long dead for their own sins.

Brightness burst into the room, assaulting your senses as footsteps shuffled close.

The prick of a needle sharp, the swoop of your nerves being calmed and then raised to tingling heights.

A gentle caress of a hand on your cheek and the last thought you had before you were pulled back into the darkness heart more than anything your mother could do to you:

He hadn’t come after you. He had let you walk away.

We can’t…I-I don’t...

Through the hull and off the ship, let you slip into the crowd where he hoped you would disappear from his sight. Vanish from his life and taking the sins you had tempted him with.

Compliant. You would be compliant this time around. Now knowing that there was nothing else for you, the entire galaxy making a mockery of your attempt at finding a life other than this. The blood of so many on your hands and cleaned off the hilt of your saber, the reason as to why you didn’t deserve happiness or comfortability. That you hadn’t deserved him.

And it hurt. More than the throbbing high spurred on by the drugs in your system. More than the memories of everything you had ever known being ripped from your desperate hands, not once but twice. The thought of him simply sat on that cot still, slowly dressing, gathering the things you had left behind and shoving them in a crate to never be opened again, hurt. The thought of him climbing toward the cockpit and bringing the ship to life, of guiding it up into the air and leaving the planet behind, leaving you behind, hurt. It was devastating.

Because you knew, you know he would’ve come to your aid if he had known what had happened. That you had been on your way back to the ship with an apology on your tongue when you had been ambushed. You know he would’ve protected you, even if he didn’t want you. Out of some sort of personal obligation, out of the empty commitment he had made to you that now felt like a ploy to get you into his bed.

He had known your past, seen the evidence of it in your words and nightmares. He had known to how use it to his advantage, to whisper sweet nothings and notions of care beyond what you could provide him with your body to get exactly that. He had known to not pressure you, to let you come to him and he would get what he wanted all along. The same as every man, only seeing you as a body to warm your bed.

But…he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. I love you.

He had said it first, as he bled out on that dirty cantina floor as the building crumbled around you both.

Anything spoken by a man of few words had to mean something. Had to be genuine. Had to be real.

And that hurt far worse, that he cared and had still let you walk away. Disappear into the crowd of the planet, only to be taken hostage and away from him. That he had let it happen.

The confusing and painful thoughts circling around in your sluggish mind were cut short, turned to smoke that wafted away when the metallic clang of what had to the locking mechanism on the door to where you were being kept. Artificial light filtered into the room, blinding you as your eyes tried to adjust to the sudden shift from near blinding darkness. A soft voice was speaking to you, thought you couldn’t make out the words. Brain scrambled and too loaded up to understand.

It was astonishing, really, even through the haze, that your mother’s hands were gentle on you despite the things she subjected you to. Comforting caresses and fingers moving your hair and clothing in ways to avoid pinching or pain as she removed the shackles and began to untangle you from the chains that had wrapped around you. It felt like a loss, to no longer have them pressing into your skin, no longer holding you up as your head rolled on hard to hold up neck.

“Oh oh oh, it’s okay, sweetie, I’ve got you.” Your mother’s voice was syrupy sweet, coating you in its allure. The only thing you truly knew was real in this moment of time. Her hands helped you up on weak legs, arms going around your waist to hold you to her, support most of your weight. “We’re home, my darling. I think it’s gonna treat us well, this time around.”

Confusion colored your senses and prompted a warbled sound to fall from your lips as she led you to the fresher. She helped to disrobe you, carefully peeling the clothing from your scuffed and sweaty skin. The weight of your hair being let loose from its braided updo stirred the beginnings of a headache. Trying to establish itself even in the presence of the drugs thrumming through your veins.

She washed you free of the sweat and grime that had built up on your skin in the time it had taken to guide your sluggish and unaware form onto a ship for travel.

Hands that didn’t feel like her own filled your senses. Larger than hers, rougher than hers, more intentional than hers. The feeling being washed away along with the suds and bubbles down the drain as you felt the prick of something in your neck and everything became fuzzy.

Things slowly returned to you as you felt the hum weighted over you lighten. Gravity shifted and a feeling of foreboding bubbled up in your stomach, prickling the instincts compressed inside your mind until they could do nothing but trigger ever so slightly. The hush of the door opening had you shifting atop the bedding, looking toward it to see the shadow of your mother approaching you with a cloak.

But it wasn’t yours, because the one you had been gifted, the one with the beautiful floral clasps to keep it closed, had been left behind in your haste. Haste to run from the feelings of inadequacy and heartbreak that threatened to overwhelm you even if you couldn’t piece together the specifics. Too overcome with the things your mother pressed into your veins to have you sluggish and heeding her commands.

The flash of a shiny reflection of sunlight against the metal of a sword stirred something in you as you walked alongside her. She was supporting most of your weight, guiding you along down the ramp of the ship and you paused at the sight before you. Blinking, ensuring that the image wouldn’t melt away and that it was real, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

A garden. Lush and green, was stretched out before a grand palace of white and sandy stone. Pillars and domes accent the different parts of grand sight. It was magnificent and entirely too complicated for you to be able to find a way to escape once within the walls. Guards cloaked in black were stationed at the main entrance and along entryways within the halls. Women in rich jewel tones scattered about the palace as your mother guided you through it, being led herself by a man who held an air of authority about himself.

Your heart beating fast, dizzyingly fast and your breath becomes labored, pitchy. It garners the attention of your mother, the shift from quiet to increasing panic as your led further into the maze of halls and buildings. She holds the control to the shackles about your wrists and ankles in her hand, waving it at you to quell the twitching of your muscles as you tried to resist running, of harnessing the Force to send everyone around you flying through the wide hallway. The silent threat of the electricity sparking through your synapses paired with the way the world didn’t feel quite right, everything off kilter and slightly blurry, fuzzy all around you had you obeying her without a word.

She commanded the people around you both as you were ushered through a door into a sterile room, medical equipment and first aid supplies collected in a large cabinet. The medical center, you guessed through the haze and worry spiked through you. What was she going to have them do to you?

With soft words, she urged you to lay down atop one of the cots. Smoothing your hair away from your face with gentle hands as the prick of a needle startled you. An attendant, a man dressed in dark red billowing layers, had stuck you with a syringe.

Before you could form your lips around a question, a plea, the edges of your vision blurred. Within seconds, the room was spinning and your eyes fluttered shut. The last thing you thought of before being pulled under the influence of the sedative was a plea for Din and ad’ika to be safe, wherever they may be.

“Alright,” Your mother chirped once you had fallen unconscious. The man in red regarded her with a blank expression, knowing that he was here for one reason and one reason only. Being paid generously for the use of his skills and the machinery that he possessed. He was one of the few who had been sought out by the New Republic to recalibrate and repurpose something used by the Empire that would prove useful for them as well.

Rumors of such a machine were whispered across the galaxy, most believing them to have been destroyed. But they would be wrong, they were very prevalent in the reformation and reintroduction of the Empire’s countless forces back into the general population. To break the spell of indoctrination imposed on them with low force electric vibrations. The Six-O-Two Mitigator, otherwise known as a Mind Flayer. Curtesy of the royal families firm standing within the New Republic and their generous donations to help fund their endeavors.

“Is it ready?”

“Yes, it’s been calibrated to perform at a higher voltage to achieve what you’ve requested.” He spoke as he watched two attending medics wheel the cot you were laid upon toward the doorway that lead into another room. He followed them, with a wave of his arm to allow for your mother to proceed him. She did so with a dip of her head.

“I’m sure you know how to oblige what is being requested of you. From me and from the Prince. We will settle for nothing less.”

“I do, you want me to target the memory glands.”

“Yes, eradicate anything that sparks in response to the Mandalorians and the Jedi. Warp them if you have to.”

“I will do my best, it may take multiple sessions.”

“That’s quite alright, we are here now. We have the time.”

Something was wrong. Something was missing.

And your head was pounding, a dull pain throbbing at your crown and moving down, down, down to coat your entire body. Groaning, you realized you were laying in a large, plush bed. Pillows and soft blankets surrounding you, having allowed you the comfort to sleep deeply. Deep enough that you couldn’t recall the location of where you were.

The room is beautiful, all pale, soft tones that match the way you had always wanted to decorate your own home one day. But it was a lost thought, something that would never come to fruition. A personal home that you would never have, a home that you would never share, because the people that you love no longer exist to you, faded into blips you can’t recall. But there was one shadow that you could sense in the back of your mind. And it was making you worry about the way you couldn’t fill it. The underlying feeling of something wrong settling low in your gut.

The room is completely foreign as is the scene of a desert city surrounded by large, formidable walls of stone. You now stood on the balcony, having crossed the spacious interior decorated with tapestries and thin beaded curtains to take a look outside. Your body protested the movements, sluggish to respond to your need to figure out where you were.

The door creaked open, a pair of young women with a tray froze as they say you out on the balcony.

And then, a familiar figure shouldered past them with a wide smile.

“Mother?”

“Yes, my sweetheart, how are you feeling?” She was across the room, her arm over your shoulder as she guided you to take a seat in one of two chairs that surrounded a small, low table. Across from them, on the other side, a long, curved couch that looked to be velvet stretched out.

“I feel okay, I’m just a little confused. When did we move….here?” You felt like something was missing still, aside from the curiosity of the foreign environment. You were looking around the room, trying to nudge that vague shadow of whatever it was into a more concrete form. And then it did, the shadow took the form of a man and your heart skipped a beat. “Is he okay?”

“Who, honey?”

“Um…the man I’ve been traveling with. He- he was injured, his…his head!” You felt panic ripple over you, very real and so overwhelming. You had been traveling with someone, that much you knew. But the name, the specifics of him weren’t coming to you. But it felt so real, the phantom feel of the man who you had been with, you carried him with you, and you needed to know if he was okay.

“Honey, he wasn’t the one that fell. You were.”

“Where is he?” Her words didn’t shake the panic settling into your bones. A memory of kneeling in front of an injured man, cradling his face in your hands as he lay before you flashed in your mind’s eye. The feeling of heat washing over you, as if trying to consume you.

“He’s a very busy man, he was going to visit this afternoon.” You mother tried to console you, moving to sit on the arm of your chair and reaching out to cusp a hand over your shoulder.

“I need to see him now!” You stood, anger spiking. Lungs aching for air, for the vision of the man whose touch was ghosting over your skin, whispers of promises and comfort filling your ears. All coming back as the shadow in your mind grew larger and larger, taking space and becoming all consuming,

“Alright, honey, hold-“ She caught your hand as you walked past her, set on searching for him. Needing to see him, to ensure that he was okay. The feeling of warm blood thick on your hands.

“That’s quite alright, Lena.” A deep voice spoke from the open doorway and you felt your knees buckle as you looked over toward it. The tall figure of a broad man was standing there, dressed in orange and gold. He had dark, thick hair on the top of his head and decorating his face. He looked healthy and relief replaced the panic. The feeling of comfort at his few words urging you back up from where you had reached out for the couch. Memories of laughter and teasing, of time spent together coming back to you as if he had brought them into the room with him. “I had a spare moment today, is everything okay here?”

“I-I just…I needed to make sure you were okay.” The words left you in a shaky breath. His image filled the form of the shadow, pushing you toward him. He opened his arms and you moved into them, lifting up on your tip toes to press your forehead to his own and everything whirling around in your mind calmed.

“My heart, are you alright?” His breath fanned over your face and your eyes focused on his lips. Waiting for an answer to flow from them. For all the memories that had flooded back when you first looked at him, you couldn’t recall the feel of his lips on your own.

“I’ve got you, beautiful. Everything is going to be okay.”

Before the last word was uttered, you were surging up and pressing your lips to his.

Weeks go by, the days spent with your mother and the maidens assigned to look after you and ensure you had everything you needed. Prince Cala was accommodating, doting almost when he was free from the responsibilities that came with running a successful city. He was a prince, you learned. Set to inherit his royal standing of king and full control over the city once the marriage he had proposed to you in your murky past came to fruition. He was all soft, casual touches and kisses pressed to your temples. He hadn’t kissed you fully since that first day you had woken up and you could understand his hesitancy. You were still struggling with your memory, no exact recollection of your lives together.

Assurances spoke from both him and your mother that this was indeed your life, even if everything seemed so new and part of a routine you didn’t quite feel like you were a part of. You were…slightly uncomfortable in your mother’s presence, when alone. An almost fearful undertone as you watched her movements closely, feigning focused interest in the things she told you and shared with you to mask the way your eyes catalogued everything. There was a faint weight that pulled in your gut when she would touch you, her hands always gentle but it was as if… it was as if your body was waiting for the gentle to give way to something more sinister, more ill-intentioned.

You felt more at ease with the man who had filled the shadow in your mind, his presence calming and kind. You weren’t waiting for his touch to sour, though it didn’t spring forth any feelings of desire or yearning from you. A causal intimacy between you both. Slightly disjointed in the way that you had separate room when you could recall sleeping beside a warm body before your accident. In the way that he would press his forehead to yours in greeting each morning and departure each night, the warmth of his skin against yours feeling….wrong as you recalled a coolness in the memories of the practiced motion. In the way that your flowing gowns and light layers looked beautiful in every color provided to you helped to alleviate the heat of the planet but felt too…impractical when you could recall feeling different clothing against your skin, practical, durable.

But for all the things that felt slightly shifted, you also found familiarity.

The ever present heat and bright sunshine of the planet, so unlike your own world of K’ath and yet it was almost comforting in a way. The food you enjoyed at the words of your mother and fiancé to the kitchens to keep on hand. Fresh fruits, crispy vegetables, and warm bread slathered with salted butter fresh from the ovens. Plenty of soups served over rice and easy broths for you to sip from ornate china, never anything too heavy or slathered in rich sauces. Sweet treats in the form of artisan chocolate, decadent cakes with frosting covering them in intricate designs and an endless supply of fresh, strong caf.

But you took it all in stride, spending time in the gardens, memorizing the walkways that wound through them and around the cerulean ponds filled with colorful fish. Spending time in the library and reading through the history of the planet and the city. Spending time in the lush sunroom decorated with plush rugs, overstuffed seating, and a nice view of the grounds just beyond it. Spending time overlooking the beautiful sights of the city and the distant ocean from your balcony, unable to shake the feeling like you were supposed to be somewhere else.

You tried to ignore the guards hovering around you as you explored the streets of the market. You had earned the outing after your good behavior, showing restraint in the questions you had wanted to ask but didn’t want to repeat yet again the night before. Shaking those thoughts from your head, you reached up and adjusted the dainty crown atop your head. The beautiful netting sprinkled with jewels fanning the base of it cascading over your hair in quite a nice way and it would look beautiful if the piece weren’t a deadly threat. It was a little overkill, you thought. Even if you had been nothing but willing to play along to your mothers and husbands’ words despite feeling like something was wrong, missing, like this wasn’t your life. But they were all that you knew right now, the figure of your mother familiar from childhood and you heeded her words.

You were at a stall that had an array of colorful and fragrant fruits, the sweet perfume of them blending together too tempting for you to bypass without checking out. A creature of habit, your mother called you. A woman of expensive taste, teasingly aimed at you from your husband. They knew you

You paused to hold a bundle of sunset orange berries up to inspect. A small green hand with three fingers suddenly reached out for the bowl in your hand and you jumped only slightly at the sudden company you had as you perused the stalls offerings. You turned a cautious look over but a smile broke out on your face at the cute visage of a small, wonderous face peeking out from a canvas bag that seemed to be his safe space.

“Well, hello there, little one.” You lowered the bowl for the small creature to reach for a berry, the fruit stuffed into his mouth with a happy sound that had a laugh bubbling up from your chest unbidden. “He’s rather cute. Is this your child?”

You canted your attention up, at the broad man dressed in all black who was wearing the child’s bag over a shoulder. His clothing was nondescript, matching that of the priests who littered the town. Flowing cassock and wrap atop his head. His face was obscured, much like their own by black gauzy material draped from underneath it. His dark brown eyes were the only thing visible, and you smiled at him trying to come across as friendly. You didn’t want to anger anyone in town lest they had a connection to your new family.

The figure didn’t speak for a moment, seeming to take stock of you, gauging if you were a threat or not, something everyone seemed to be doing when interacting with you. A newcomer, an outsider, not one of the many tourists visiting the city for their own amusement, but someone brought in to be a part of the ruling family. Confirmation sounded through the fabric masking his face from you and you nodded to show you heard. “He is.”

“I’ve never seen any like him before, he seems like the sweetest thing.” The child let out small coos, as if knowing he was being talked about. He reached for another berry but held it out to you this time. You shook your head lightly and another laugh bubbled up even as you felt the heavy gaze of his father on you.

“Ma’am, you’ll have to pay for- Oh, Princess Cala, I’m so sorry. I was unaware you were in the markets today. Please, take whatever you wish, I will send for payment from Sir Cala at the end of the day.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright. It’s just a little snack today, nothing too crazy.” You smiled wide at him, hoping your behavior will be relayed back to your new family and they will lower their intensity. But you also genuinely appreciated this man, he treated you like a person while everyone else in the market kept a wide berth around you. Afraid of either you as a newcomer or the guards that tailed you, you hadn’t been able to work it out yet. You reached for the small pouch attached to your belt, the jingling of the bracelets on your wrists drawing the attention of the child.

You felt the tug of on them as you reached out to place a few credits for the bowl of berries on the stand, nodding your thanks as you turned to face the child again. He was gripping the bracelets tightly, his skin touching yours as he did so and a clash of emotions flooded you, causing you to gasp and your knees buckled. Before the guards could reach you, the tall man had stepped close and his arms were wrapped gently around your back, holding you to his chest to help steady you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la. Are you alright?” His head was pitched so his voice was right beside your ear, and it sent a shiver through your body, the timbre of it so alluring. It was all you could hear though you were aware of the soft babbling of the child close to you and the harsh voices of the guards. You felt completely calm with him, like returning to your home after a long day. Comforted, safe, cared for. His touch was so familiar, the way he held you feeling like a faint memory though you had never met him in your life.

“Unhand the princess, no one is to touch her.” The guards closed in around you both, trapping you between their bodies and the stall.

“It’s alright! I just tripped is all!” You raised your voice even though it was rather hard to concentrate with the strong body pressed up against you and holding you. You felt the man loosen his hold and step away as you stood straighter. You weren’t quite sure what happened, but he had been quick to help you, even at the expense of drawing the guards’ attention. You smiled at him, something genuine. The feelings he had stirred in you were confusing but not unwelcome. You had no idea why. He was a stranger after all.

“We must return now, Princess Cala.”

When his touch retracted, the warmth that had blossomed in your chest and the quickening of your heart beating against the cage of your ribs didn’t wane.

You retrieved the bowl of berries and held a few out to the slightly dejected child, his large ears turned downward. “Here you go, little one. Make sure to share those with your papa, okay?”

Another glance roved over his face, a soft smile just for him, and you were bidding him a good day with a bow of your head. The urge to press your forehead against his strong, but you resisted, knowing that it felt too personal a thing for the stranger standing beside you. Your brow furrowed slightly, unsure of where the need to do so rose from. The comfortability and underlying feeling of complete and utter safety that the man stoked in you confusing you, he was a stranger, and yet it felt like there was a string wrapped around your heart that pulled taught and uncomfortable as you began to move away from him.

And with that you were turning and walking away from the stall, two guards leading you back to the palace and two behind you. You could feel the kind man’s brown eyes watching you as you did, daring to look over your shoulder to get one last look at him yourself.

Your breath hitched as your eyes met his even from the distance of the street and you felt the heat from his intimate touch and soft words encompass you completely. A dull pain throbbed in your temple, forcing you to turn away.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @clevergirl74 @strawberri-blonde @js-favnanadoongi @littlemisspascal @moonknight-s-cumdump @bookloverkat @golden-mando @beskarandblasters @feral-ferrule @bearsbeetsbeskar @76bookworm76 @anoverwhelmingdin @sarap-77 @picassopedro @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @genetics4life @mosssbawls @vivian-pascal

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idkbishsss · 1 year

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Din getting lesbians(+Boba Fett) to help him get Grogu back: Gay rights! Yeah, gay rights!

Meets Luke Skywalker on the ships

Din:I’m gay-

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new-november-moons · 9 months

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star wars incorrect quotes *** part five/finale

part one *** part two *** part three *** part four

(you people are the sweetest, ty for all your love on these <3)

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aspic31 · 1 year

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Sw sketch dump

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jack-the-fool · 11 months

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Cara: Just admit it, you're in love with Skywalker.

Din: im... Not....

Cara: What color are his eyes?

Din: I dunno. Pale? My visor HUD colors aren't that precise in that range. I'd assume blue.

Cara: okay then. And when's my birthday.

Din:.....

Cara: When's my birthday Din?

Din: Cara you've never told me your birthday

Cara: And I never will

#anyway this is their relationship #the mandalorian #din djarin #cara dune #dinluke #i mean in my head totally but I suppose it does still work if you're not into that #star wars #sw din #sw cara #jack.txt #q

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turkwriter · 1 year

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The problem with having Bo-Katan be pretty much the only person that Din is allowed to have interactions with this season is that it makes it even more obvious how much more chemistry (and I don’t mean “chemistry” in the romantic sense) he had with pretty much every other character in past seasons.

Looking at all these scenes between Din and Bo just reminds me of how much I miss Din interacting with people like Boba, Cobb, Cara, Omera, Migs, pretty much everyone; it just makes this season’s lack of real chemistry even more apparent. I cling to the scenes where Din’s actually allowed to interact with Grogu, Greef, Paz, Peli, anyone he used to be scene partners with because they actually feel like Din still has a personality/character and that I’m still watching The Mandalorian.

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Bo-Katan Kryze #Boba Fett #Cobb Vanth #Cara Dune #SW Omera #Migs Mayfeld #Grogu #Greef Karga #Paz Vizsla #Peli Motto

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mysharona1987 · 2 months

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Ok, but Gina Carano’s lawyers literally introducing her lawsuit against Disney in the form of the Star Wars opening scroll is grounds for legal malpractice alone.

#Disney #star wars #sw #the mandalorian #baby yoda #pedro pascal #cara dune #politics #democrats #republicans #family law

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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A Fresh Start [15]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety, PTSD-esque panic attack, talk of medical trauma

Word Count: 6,035

#15: MANDO LOOKS LIKE HE KNOWS HOW TO FUCK

Chapter Summary: The time has come to talk about your past, but you can’t imagine a world where the Marshal doesn’t hate you for what you’ve done. Nima is Nima.

“I think we made a perfect fit because we were both broken, had we been whole, we wouldn’t have connected like we did.” -Eric Inzunza

It had been a wild 24 hours for you. Grogu got sick, your Marshal Mandalorian took his helmet off to cuddle up beside you in the bathroom with said sick child, said Marshal Mandalorian then told you his name, pirates invaded the outskirts of Nevarro, you threatened a cowardly doctor with blackmail you garnered from your past, Grogu got sicker, you held a medical tech at blaster point, you worked with medicine for the first time in over a year, Grogu got better, then you and Din Djarin got handsy in the bathroom. The chaotic whirlwind of events had your head spinning, but that very last encounter grounded you fairly well. If someone had told you that you’d go from learning your boss’ name to letting him strip you nearly bare in the bathroom a day later you would’ve laughed.

“Mando!” You called out to the man getting dressed back in the rooms. The man who had to get dressed because you had been in the process of taking his clothes off. Oh, your brain was not functioning enough to really grasp this at all. “It’s Karga!”

The introduction of the High Magistrate into this tricky equation only baffled you further. He stood in the foyer, dressed in his rather gaudy robes, while you stood in front of him wearing only Din’s shirt. You tugged down the edges of his shirt to further cover yourself. Maybe if Din’s warm hands hadn’t broken your brain you would’ve thought to grab a blanket to cover yourself. Or pants.

“He’s getting⏤” You paused. It would look pretty damning if you told him Din was in the process of getting dressed. Though, the state you were in was probably already pretty damning. “Mando will be here in a second.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m actually here for you.” Karga replied. “How’s Grogu?”

You blinked in a poor attempt to jump from the first statement to the casual question. “Good.” You blurted. “Stable.” You kept repeating the word ‘stable’ and you wondered if it was in part due to trying to convince yourself. Grogu was stable. Grogu was safe. Grogu was healing. You motioned over your shoulder. “Would you mind if I stepped out to grab a pair of pants?”

Not a question you thought you’d be asking the High Magistrate of Nevarro, but as you had already realized this was not a predictable 24 hours.

“I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, I insist.” Karga replied.

“Great.” You pulled Din’s shirt down further and rushed away.

On your way back to the rooms, you nearly collided with a wall of beskar. Before you could stumble back, Din grabbed your upper arm to catch you. The firm grip of his gloved hand had your face growing warm which was absolutely ridiculous compared to where he had tried to put his hands only minutes ago. Din, unaware of the effect he had on you, shook his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, I need pants.”

“No, you don’t.” Din replied without missing a beat. You narrowed your eyes at him, glanced down at himself, then looked back up in question. Din leaned in, keeping his voice low, “We’re not done, ner kar’ta.” That same powerful wave of desire returned. The way his voice alone could make your toes curl… “Wait for me. I won’t be long with Karga.”

You were so stupid drunk off the thought of him alone, you almost nodded in agreement. Reality settled back into place though, and you shook your head. “I can’t. Karga isn’t here for you. He’s, apparently, here for me?”

Din was silent for a second before he began to pass you. “I’ll handle this.”

Though you liked the idea of Din sending Karga away for whatever reason he was here, you were beginning to grow curious as to why the High Magistrate was interested in you at all. You were fairly certain, up until now, that he only knew you as Grogu’s nanny. The thought was sobering. Grogu’s nanny. That’s where this all started⏤ that was the island that had gotten lost in the horizon as you sailed out to grasp the connection you had with the child’s father.

Not now. You’d save those terribly, depressing thoughts for a day you weren’t riding a high⏤ a day where you didn’t know what Din’s rough hands felt like against your skin. Quickly, you rushed back into the bathroom to find and slip your pants back on before heading back to the living room.

Karga had entered in further, but he remained standing by the couch. He was the picture of casual nonchalance, but Din’s entire body seemed stiff. This only seemed to worsen when you drifted closer and the High Magistrate’s attention focused on you.

“There she is. Woman of the hour! And wearing pants this time⏤”

“Karga.” Din snapped.

Karga waved a finger at the Mandalorian. “I jest, my old friend. Is a little teasing not allowed?” Din didn’t respond. You took that as a sign to also not respond. Karga shook his head with a sigh. “Straight to business, as always.”

You stepped closer and set a hand on Din’s arm. “What can I help you with, High Magistrate?”

“I always liked her.” Karga said to Din before smiling at you. “Which is why I’d like to offer you a job. It seems Nevarro is short one physician.” The hand you set on Din to reassure him fell to your side in shock. Had he just⏤? Your chest felt tight and you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “Well, more than just one physician short, I should say. Technically, on this entire planet, we only have one broken droid and a physician who likes to play nanny.”

“Karga!” Din snapped again.

You shook your head. “I’m not⏤”

“Oh, we’re past denial. Aren’t we?” Karga asked. Then, he said your name. Din’s head turned to stare at you as well, but all you could focus on was the feeling of the blood running out of your face. Were you falling? It felt like you were falling head over heels. The room was beginning to tilt. Karga reached into his robes’ pocket and held up a holopad. You recognized your face. It was the picture used on your medical badge back when you were employed. Karga had your whole work file right there in his hands. Your charade was crumbling right before your eyes. “I know everything, Doctor. Honestly, I’m impressed. Your marks and experience could get you a job damn near anywhere in this galaxy, and there’s a transcript here saying the court settled in your favor. You never lost your license. Plus, you’re quite the fighter as well.”

You were going to be sick. Nausea caused your stomach to churn uncomfortably.

“You had no right, Karga.” Din barked. “What makes you think you can⏤”

“High Magistrate or not, I think you’re forgetting my roots, Mando.” Karga raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t become one of the most renowned agents of the guild by playing nice or respecting boundaries.” He glanced at you and gave you a half hearted shrug. “It’s not personal. I do what I must to get what I need. And right now, that’s you.”

“I have to⏤ I⏤” You took a shaky step back. Din reached out for you, but you quickly took another to keep from his grasp. His hand closed around air, and you immediately felt bad for dodging him. Still, you couldn’t be here. Not right now. Not with the room closing in. You turned and rushed away.

Din watched you hurry out of the room and he had to resist the urge to turn around and maim Karga. He glared at his old friend, hands balled up into fists, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nevarro needs a medical team, Mando. We can’t ship off every emergency.”

“Then hire some new ones from off world.” Din replied through clenched teeth.

“I’m trying, but it’s a hard sell.” Karga scoffed. “Do you know how perfect she is? An incredible physician too traumatized to get the job she truly deserves in the Inner Rim⏤” Din snapped at him, but he didn’t stop. “And now she has ties here? At first I figured it was just Nima, but now I suppose she has you as well. I assume that’s why you’re in such a foul mood. I interrupted something.”

Din lunged forward and before a thought could occur he had Karga’s robes bunched into his fist. He resisted actually hitting the man, and Din could see on Karga’s face that the man knew he had overstepped. Karga held his hands up in surrender. One still holding the holopad.

“I’m sorry, friend.” Karga said simply. “You must understand how desperate I am right now. No community can thrive without proper medical care. Maker forbid something awful happens before I can convince a different physician to come.” Din shoved Karga back and set his hands on his hips. Karga held out the holopad to him. “Aren’t you curious about her past? Don’t you want to know more about her?”

“I do.” Din replied. He took the holopad from Karga and kept it by his side. “But only if she wants to share it with me. Now, get out of our house.”

Karga gave a small nod before backpedaling away. Din was set to turn and find you, but he stopped when Karga called out to him. The High Magistrate offered a small smile as some kind of peace offering, but his words were more a salve than his emotion. “I have my feelers out looking for Daelar. Not a public bounty, but a private one. You wanna know when I find him?”

“Yes.” Din replied. “Bring me the puck.”

“I thought you weren’t a bounty hunter anymore.”

“I’m not. This is personal.” Din said. “He put my family in danger. He doesn’t get to walk away from that.”

Karga smirked. “Now, there’s the bloodthirsty Mandalorian I know and love.”

Without another word, he left and Din was stuck standing alone in his living room. He wasn’t sure how such an incredible start to his morning could turn sour so quickly, but it wasn’t worth exploring. Din needed to check in on you.

The plan had been to barrel through the house and put as much distance between you and that holopad as possible⏤ even if it meant breaking through the patio glass doors, hopping the small fence, and escaping into the neighboring lava plains. The only thing that stopped you, the only thing that could stop you, was the quiet whine you’d recognize anywhere. Grogu. You came to a skidding stop outside Din’s bedroom door and immediately rushed in. The child was shifting in his hammock, fussy. It only took you seconds to gather him into your arms and at your touch he fell back into a restful slumber.

Rocking him carefully, you carried him out of the bedroom and continued down the hall until you reached the glass doors that led out to a small back patio. You didn’t come out here often. Though maybe you would start. There was a small, round table with a few matching metal chairs surrounding it. You had a view of the lava plains, could even see a bit of the hot springs, and it was peaceful. That’s how you should feel right now. At peace. You had Grogu sleeping in your arms, no fever and no cough, and the morning air was comfortably warm and quiet.

But Grogu was a reminder of the patient you had once failed, and the quiet left room for Karga’s words to echo loudly in your head. There was a little voice at the back of your mind whispering that you needed to run. You needed to flee. If you weren’t known, then you weren’t in danger. However, things weren’t so simple anymore. The little boy sleeping in your arms was evidence of that. Realistically, Grogu was not yours. He was the child you were paid to care for and since this was technically just a job it should be easy to turn in a resignation and walk away. Emotionally, this was not the case.

Even with the knowledge that Karga was familiar with your entire past, you couldn’t bring yourself to start planning an off world escape. You traced the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose. You were foolish to let your walls down⏤ to grow so attached. The door behind you slid open and Din stepped out.

“Grogu is alright.” You said before he could ask. “I think he’ll be up soon. He got fussy when I was walking by so I grabbed him.” The other seat was across the table from you. Rather than just sit, Din picked up the metal chair by the back and pulled it closer so he’d be right beside you. You couldn’t bare to bring your gaze up, away from Grogu, to the man beside you. “I’m thinking we should keep him out of school tomorrow. See how he’s feeling then.”

Din’s hand entered your view and he settled it on your thigh. It was technically similar to the hold he had you in earlier, while kneeling in front of you, but this was one born of comfort rather than lust. He squeezed your thigh then spoke, “How are you feeling, ner kar’ta?”

A dry chuckle fell from your lips. “You know my name now. You don’t have to use nicknames anymore.”

“Not knowing your name had nothing to do with my choice in what to call you.” Din replied. “And knowing your name now is not the same as it being given to me. I understand the difference.”

There was something about his words that made tears spring to your eyes. Maybe it was the softness in his whispered tone or the unhindered understanding he seemed to share. Kriff, maybe it was just your emotional capabilities being shitty right now because of how devastating it was to hear Karga say your name, file in hand.

You lifted your eyes to meet the familiar t-shape of his visor. Briefly, you wished you could see his face. There was a weight in his gaze, despite not being able to see his eyes, and you wanted more than anything to see it rather than just feel it. As soon as the thought came to you, you felt ashamed. Din’s creed was important to him, and you shouldn’t be sitting here wishing it away for the sake of your comfort.

“It doesn’t bother you that you hired a stranger to be your nanny?” You asked⏤ your voice was shakier than you wanted it to be. “I lied to you. About my name, about my work experience. Though, I did say I worked in a medical clinic. So maybe I only lose half a point there.”

Din chuckled. “You don’t lose any points. I’m not keeping score.”

“Why aren’t you upset at me?” You shook your head. “After hearing all of that, all of a sudden, you should… I don’t know.”

“It wasn’t all of a sudden. I’ve had… suspicions.” Din said. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He sighed, “You don’t answer to Soran the way someone would if it were their actual name. You even called it out after a nightmare. Then, the way you reacted to being in a clinic and your thoughts on my choices of first aid care?” Din shook his head with another short chuckle. “Only someone with a medical background would care that much about the risks and benefits of bacta or cautery. There was also all of last night…”

You nodded. “I knew last night would’ve given me away. I didn’t think I had been so obvious about everything else though.”

“I just pay attention.”

“Must be an important talent for a bounty hunter.”

Din paused, his fingers tightening around your thigh once more, “It has nothing to do with my past work experience and everything to do with you.” Your cheeks warmed. “I pay attention to you.”

There was an intensity about Din Djarin that was surprisingly hypnotizing. With his tall broad frame, intimidating beskar armor, and blank helmet the intensity should be terrifying. Despite all that though, being the center of his attention was intoxicating. Almost enough so that you were nearly distracted from the topic at hand. You wished you could get lost in his attention, forget about the weight bearing down on your shoulders, but your eyes darted to the holopad Din had set on the table. Din turned his head to follow your gaze then shook his head.

“I didn’t read it. And, Karga didn’t say anything further about you.” Din reassured. “He wouldn't dare.”

“Right.” You chuckled. “Digging up my past is perfectly fine, but he wouldn’t ever cross the boundary of talking about me to others. Because he’s the respectful kind.”

“Because he knows I’d kriffing end his existence if he tried.”

Listening to a man threaten someone for your sake shouldn’t be as attractive as it was, and yet… You focused back on Grogu and lightly traced your fingers along the length of his ears. Din wasn’t the kind bothered by long silences. He was comfortable to sit there patiently as your brain racked itself for an answer or some next step to take. The entire time his thumb rubbed circles on your thigh.

“Do you…” You took a deep breath and looked back to the man beside you. “Do you want to know about…me?”

“I want to know everything you’re willing to share, ner kar’ta.” He replied. Din shifted so while one hand rested on your thigh the other rested on the back of your chair. It gave you the sensation of being cornered, but with Din that didn’t have a negative connotation. Rather than feeling trapped, you felt protected. As if Din was some kind of barrier between you and the world. “But, you don’t have to do this now. This should be something you share because you want to⏤ not because someone else pushed you into it. I’m sorry Karga did this.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I want…” You paused, and as the next words came to you it felt like a truth you hadn’t even realized you felt. “I think I want you to know. I just⏤” There was a lump in your throat that you had to swallow down before the rest of your sentence came out in a weak whisper. “I’m afraid you won’t see me the same anymore. It’s been so long. I’m afraid to⏤ to be known.”

“Don’t.” Din said firmly. “Don’t be. There is nothing you could say that would change how I⏤” He stopped himself from continuing and your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden cessation of his voice. Like he was choking on his own words. “Gar cuyir ner kar’ta. Ibac kelir draar am.”

You didn’t know what he said. You recognized the words he used as your newest nickname, but you were still clueless as to what that meant. Still, despite that, his words brought you a warm comfort. Din tended to slip into Mando’a when emotions rose or when speaking to Grogu. You wondered if it felt more natural to him to express himself in this language rather than Basic.

“I killed my best friend.” You blurted. If Din was caught off guard by your sudden admission, rather than you just questioning his Mando’a, he didn’t show it⏤ not that you’d be able tell through his helmet.

“Was her name Soran?” Din asked. You nodded once. “What happened?”

“There was an accident. Starship collision. It took out…” You shrugged. “We got swamped in the emergency room. That’s where I was working at the time. I saw patient after patient non-stop and then… then there was Soran. She came in⏤ she was dying. I tried to find a physician to take over. I knew I was too close to her to be⏤ but we all⏤ there was so much going on.” As the memory played out you felt your heart start to race. The smell of blood, bacta, and bitter antiseptic filled your nose. You would’ve fallen into the moment entirely if it weren’t for the firm grip squeezing your thigh once more. You took in a slow breath. “I was the only one available. I had to act and I did. But, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

“Ner kar’ta…”

A soft whimper from your arms made you glance down to see Grogu was beginning to rouse. He mumbled a few unintelligible words before one you recognized was spoken. “Buir…”

“Din.” You turned and motioned for him to take the boy. He didn’t hesitate to pull Grogu into his own arms and Grogu, in response, buried his face into the crook of Din’s neck. Your lips curled up into a small smile. “You should go in with him. Seeing your face would do him a lot of good.”

“You should come in too.” Din replied, rubbing his son’s back soothingly. “You need rest. The sleep on the cot couldn’t have been restful.”

You shook your head and stood. Din tilted his head to stare up at you. “I, um, I think I’m gonna take a walk.” Din began to speak, but you cut in. “I’m fine, Din. Really. I wanted to check on Nima anyways after the whole pirate attack.”

“Alright.” Din slowly stood. “Can I… Can I look at your file?”

You nodded with a shrug. “I already admitted to the worst of my sins. The file won’t have much else.”

With one arm holding Grogu to his chest, Din reached out to cup the side of your face. He lightly tugged you toward him so he could rest his forehead against yours. The cool bite of beskar against your flushed skin made you let out a soft sigh and your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy the moment of peace.

“Come home soon, ner kar’ta.”

This was a shitty day off. Karga really needed to learn the definition of ‘taking a break’. Honestly, it was partly Din’s fault for believing the man was truly going to let him have a full day of rest. It did feel more like a day off now. Din had taken off his armor, changed into a pair of comfortable house clothes, and now he lounged on the couch with Grogu babbling on his chest. His son had fully woken up from his extended nap, and he was nearly back to his usual, energetic self. Grogu was still a little clingier than normal, but that didn’t surprise Din nor did he mind it.

“Mhmm. Tell me all about it, ad’ika.” Din hummed while stroking his son’s ears. Every few words Grogu would make sense, but most of it was just a stream of constant babbling. Din nodded. “I know.”

This moment would feel like the perfect day off if it wasn’t for the lack of you and the dreadful holopad sitting on the couch beside him. Din knew there had to be more to the story. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Maker, after last night there was no one he trusted more. Din just had a gut feeling that you were the kind to carry guilt even when it wasn’t yours to carry. He knew if this truly were the case, then any story you told him would be painted with a negative light toward yourself.

“Ma?” Grogu suddenly asked. Din sighed and readjusted so the one hand that wasn’t scratching his son’s back was resting behind his head. He couldn’t find it himself to be upset over this newest revelation over your past. Logically, maybe he should be, but you still felt like you. From the beginning, Din knew you had been hiding something and that something had saved his son’s life. Din had no room to complain. He was more disappointed that his morning had gone into a different direction than it started. When Din didn’t offer Grogu a real answer the boy reached out to pat Din on the cheek repeatedly⏤ your title emphasized with each pat. “Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma.”

Din chuckled and sat up quickly. Grogu squealed in laughter when Din rubbed his face against his son’s belly, tickling him, then cradled him closer. Maker, he was so relieved to hear Grogu laugh rather than cough. “I miss ma too, ad’ika. She’ll be back soon.” Grogu grumbled and huffed an annoyed sigh. Din chuckled and lightly tapped his forehead against Grogu’s. “Ma did such a good job of taking care of you, didn’t she?”

“ ‘lek.”

“She’s incredible, huh?” Din breathed. Grogu wiggled out of his grip to jump onto the floor and began to waddle away. He called out ‘Ma’ as he waddled toward the hallway toward the bedrooms⏤ as if he didn’t believe that she was actually away. Din’s hand drifted to his chest where one of his larger scars lay and he could still feel your touch ghosting over it. If he closed his eyes he could imagine your lips tenderly brushing against every scar you found on him.

Maker, why did Karga have to show up when he did? The High Magistrate couldn’t have waited an hour more? Two? Karga was worse than a cold shower.

Din reached back to grasp the holopad and brought it into focus. When he turned it on, your smiling face greeted him. In the head shot, your hair was pulled away from your face and you wore a pair of light green scrubs and a white coat. His eyes traced the lines that made up your name and he rolled it around his mind⏤ not daring to say it out loud. It suited you much better than the name Soran did. Still, you hadn’t offered the name for him to use so he wouldn’t. Besides, he liked using terms of endearment for you. Din liked the way your face would brighten every time he referred to you in Mando’a.

“Ma! Where?” Grogu called out. Din looked up from the holopad to see Grogu waddling back with his stuffed frog. He must have gotten side tracked in his search for you to grab it. “Buir, mar’eyir Ma!”

Din chuckled. “I told you. Ma will be back soon. Come here, you little womp rat.” Grogu grumbled, but he did return. Din scooped him up with one arm and Grogu burrowed his head into his side. “Kai’tomyc, ad’ika?”

Grogu shook his head and mumbled a soft ‘no’. It was odd for him to turn down any offer for food. That must be the last remaining sign of his illness. Din didn’t think he’d ever miss having to stop his son from trying to small critters whole, but he’d give anything to be chasing Grogu down right now. Things would be back to normal once the boy’s appetite returned.

Din leaned back against the couch once more, gently rocking Grogu in one arm, while tapping through the holopad with his other hand. You had given him permission to read through the holopad, and Din planned to soak up every single fact about you that he was allowed to know.

Nima lived on the other side of Nevarro, closer to Peli’s shop, but the walk gave you time to think. You were trying to figure out if this was considered running. If Grogu hadn’t started waking up, would you have kept going? What was left of your story? There wasn’t much else to say about Soran, and there was zero part of you that wanted to delve into how you got your scar. The way Din offered you comfort, his kind words and firm touches, no part of you felt like running from that. And, you did really want to check on Nima and give him time with Grogu. Maybe you weren’t running.

Not yet, at least.

There was always the chance Din would think about it during the time you were gone, replay your words in his head, and come to his senses. Realize that he had hired a lying stranger to care for his child. Din said nothing would make him view you different, but what if that had just been a spur of the moment comfort? What if he came to see you as an irresponsible threat?

Your spiraling bad thoughts came to halt when Nima’s door was in view. In hopes that she could distract you further, you quickly knocked on the door. It took a couple minutes before you heard Nima’s rushed footsteps. A second later the door cracked open and Nima’s face poked through. Her dark eyes widened.

“Oh. Hey.” She greeted. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to check in on you. After the⏤ the pirate ordeal.” You crossed your arms tight over your chest. “Are you okay?”

Nima shrugged. “Yeah. Better than okay. The last 24 hours have worked out great for me.” Her lips turned out into a wide grin. “I got to fly the N1 which was super cool and then… then other things happened. Uh, are you okay? How’s Grogu? I heard he was sick.”

“Grogu is good. Stable.” You nodded. You were surprised to hear she flew Din’s ship and even more surprised to hear she knew about Grogu. Only a few people knew about that right now. “Well, since you’re alright…”

Nima stepped out onto her porch and glanced back through the cracked door, as if looking for someone, then shut it. It was then you noticed she had only a robe on. Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed in a familiar concern. “You didn’t tell me if you were okay. What’s going on?”

“I’ve had a… weird night.” You admitted.

Your old friend motioned for you to take a seat on the small bench sitting on her small front porch. You sat down and she dropped down right beside you. With no hesitation, you began to ramble about everything starting with waking up to Grogu being sick all the way to Karga turning your world upside down. When your story came to an end, you glanced over at Nima to see she was beaming at you with wide and excited eyes.

“What⏤”

“You and the Marshal!?” She cried.

“Is that the only part you heard?” You sighed. “Did you miss the part where Karga might be bullying me into being the town’s doctor??”

Nima scoffed. “As if you’d let him bully you into anything. As if Mando would ever let him bully you into anything. Especially now!” She bounced in her seat once. “Oh, I knew the two of you had chemistry! I just knew it!” Nima grasped at your arm. “How was he? I don’t know what it is, but Mando looks like he knows how to fuck, if you know what I mean.”

“We didn’t.”

“But you just said⏤”

“We… didn’t.” You said slowly. “We almost did. If I hadn’t stopped him I’m pretty we would’ve…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the words. Nima squealed and your face grew even hotter. You shook your head. “And then I had my hands literally in his pants when Karga showed up so⏤”

Nima cried out and covered her face. “Oh kriffing hell! I don’t know who I’m more pissed at!” She dropped her hands to shove you. “You for stopping Mando or Karga for cock blocking you.”

“I had to stop him.” You replied.

“No, you absolutely did not! You⏤”

“The moment was…” You interrupted her to try and put what you felt into words. “I’ve never felt like that before. Just from a man taking my clothes off.”

Nima narrowed her eyes at you. “You’ve never felt turned on by a man taking your clothes off?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“Good. I was about to be really worried about you.”

You leaned back into the bench. “It was more than that. Obviously, I was turned on, but it was… I’ve never felt so…seen. Like he could see all of me.” Din had been wearing a helmet that blocked all view of his features, but the way his hidden gaze traced your body as his fingers caressed your skin you felt like something precious. Like some kind of treasure he was studying and admiring. “And I wanted to see him in return. As much of him as I was allowed, at least.”

“So… you saw him. Like, saw him, saw him?” Nima asked.

“Yes?” You shrugged. A sighed then left your lips as you shook your head. “I thought I had been touch starved after a year of hiding on my own, but you should’ve seen him, Nima. He didn’t even believe me when I told him how beautiful he was and, stars, he was gorgeous. Everything about him is…”

Nima chuckled. “Girl, you got it baaad.” You covered your face with your hands knowing she was absolutely right. “I’m still baffled you saw any of him. I can’t even fathom the thought of seeing his hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never shows anybody his skin.” Nima shrugged. “You have to have noticed that. I’ve never seen⏤ oh, wait. Actually once, when he came to pick up Grogu, he bent over to scoop the kid up and I saw a flash of his bare wrist between his glove and gauntlet. I was worried he’d have to kill me for that.”

It made sense. He never showed any of his skin out in public and even today when Karga showed up. Din had taken the time to put on his full suit of armor rather than just slipping into his home clothes. What confused you was the fact that you had seen his bare skin so soon into living with him. Literal days and Din had already trusted you with more than he did the public. Was it because you were just in his home and around Grogu so out of default you got to see him that way? Or was it something else entirely?

“I guess I should also ask,” Nima spoke up, “What’re you gonna do about Karga?”

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

“Did you talk to Mando about… you know…”

“About how I killed Soran?” You finished.

Nima scoffed. “No. You know that’s not what happened. You did everything you could.”

“And it wasn’t enough.”

“Maker, you’re the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met.” Nima groaned. You narrowed your eyes at her in a glare. She just shrugged. “You know my opinion on the matter. What’s Mando’s opinion?”

You grumbled, “I don’t know. I came here before he could say. Left him with my file though. So, I might be coming back to a storm.” You crossed your arms. “If I get fired and kicked out of the house can I stay with you?”

“No.” Nima shook her head.

“Wow, thanks.”

“You’re not gonna get fired, you idiot.” Nima scoffed. “And you’re not gonna get any closure sitting here with me.” She stood and motioned with her arms for you to rise. You pushed up and Nima pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed once but returned the hug with a smile. She pulled back and winked at you. “Now, go back and finish what you started. Either the emotional stuff or the physical stuff. Your choice.”

You nodded and stepped off her porch as Nima skipped to her door. You paused and shot her a smirk. “Oh, and hey, tell Cara I said hello.”

“I will!” Nima chirped. Her eyes suddenly widened and her mouth fell slack. You laughed and she shook her head. “I mean, I will when I see her next. Whenever that is. Because she’s definitely not here. Why would she be here??”

“Uh huh.” You replied.

“Shut up and go fuck the Marshal.” Nima stuck her tongue out at you and hurried back into her house. With her out of sight, your smile faltered and you turned to make your way back home. It was time to face the music.

a/n: how do y’all feel about long chapters? i have a bad bad habit of writing long chapters which feels wrong on tumblr??? i can post a 15k word chapter on ao3 and not even blink, but if i start to get near 6k or 7k on tumblr i get antsy for some reason. it feels illegal. idk why. anyways, as always thanks for the love! i haven’t come up with a concrete posting schedule yet so as of now it’s gonna be every 5-7 days. roughly. also, side note, it’s my birthday and i think comments about my story is my fav kind of gift👀👀

Mando’a translations

Gar cuyir ner kar’ta. Ibac kelir draar am.

You are my heart. That will never change.

Buir, mar’eyir Ma!

Dad, find Ma!

Kai’tomyc: Hungry /// Ad’ika: Little one /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #grogu is adorable #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #Female reader #reader insert #greef karga #cara dune #slow burn #angst/comfort #fluff #domestic bliss

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