#Kuiil voice: I have spoken

[nerdofallkinds]

So, I've just started watching the mandalorian and I have questions, as someone that has absolutely no prior knowledge about star was would:

How does the child get out of his floating baby carrier??? Does he just faceplant into the ground???

Is it just me that thinks the Alamites sound exactly like the fucking minions?

#the mandolorian #Kuiil is the best #i have spoken #i get how someone can be attracted to voices alone #pedro pascal #grogu is so fucking cute #i get the appeal #hes so marketable

[thewayofthemandalorian]

dreams dashed and divided - chapter seven

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Rating: M

Chapter Rating: M

Word count: 4,634

Notes: One more chapter to go! This is yet another emotionally heavy chapter in some parts, but I can promise (mostly) smooth sailing in chapter eight. Thanks so much for all the lovely feedback so far.

This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Chapter warnings: Emotional distress, canon-typical violence, near-death experiences, blood, fear, doubt, pining, manipulation, alcohol, drug mention, implied pregnancy discussion (not with reader), age gap: older man/younger woman (in flashbacks reader is 20 to Din’s 27, and in current day is 29 to his 36).

previous chpater || next chapter || masterlist (main) || masterlist (din djarin)

“I think we should hear him out,” Karga says. 

You shake your head. “The second we go out there, he’s going to kill us.” 

“He’ll kill us if we stay in here too. We don’t have many other options other than shooting our way out,” Karga rebuts. “What do you think, Mando?” 

“I know who he is,” Din says. “It’s Moff Gideon.” 

It’s a name that you’ve heard before. Whispers of him have been circulating at the Dark Star for years, even when it was rumoured that he was dead. You never believed the rumours. 

Karga, apparently, did believe the rumours. “It can’t be him. He was executed for his war crimes.”

Mando shakes his head. “It’s him. He knew my name,” he explains. 

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?” asks Greef. 

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child,” Din continues and in that moment you understand something so fundamental that had been nagging at you for nine years. Why he never told you his name. 

“Oh, Din,” you whisper quietly. 

It goes unnoticed by Karga. “On Mandalore?” he asks. 

“I was not born on Mandalore,” Din says, his voice thick.

Karga’s brows furrow. “But you are Mandalorian,” he says, trying to figure it out. 

“Mandalorian isn’t a race,” you supply. 

“It’s a creed,” Din finishes for you, clearly remembering something from long ago. “I was a foundling,” he continues after a long minute of silence. “They raised me in the fighting corps; I was treated like one of their own.” You never knew that about him. You always assumed that his parents were Mandalorians as well and they died when he was young. Your heart breaks for him. In so few words, it explains a lot. You wonder if part of this explanation is more for your benefit than for Karga’s. “When I came of age, I swore the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB officer during the Purge. That’s how I know it’s him.” 

You reach out and grab his hand. “That’s how he knows who we all are,” you muse, looking up into his helmeted face. 

“He says he needs us,” replies Din, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, “which means the child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn’t respond, but if they’d captured him, we’d already be dead.” 

Karga grabs a nearby jug of spotchka and takes a swig, offering some to you. You shake your head. “Try calling him again,” Karga suggests. 

“Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil? Nothing.” Din sighs. “It’s possible they might have jammed the link,” he offers, not sounding optimistic. 

Suddenly, the comm beeps and the room is filled with sounds of the child cooing and squealing. “Kuiil has been terminated,” says a robotic voice. IG-11. The three of you share a look.  

Slowly, Mando lifts the comm back to his mouth. “What did you do?” he snarls. 

Over the comm, IG-11 responds calmly, “I am fulfilling my base function.” 

“Which is…?” He’s not in the mood for any games or funny business.

IG-11 sounds completely undisturbed. “To nurse and protect.” The link goes dead. Faintly, you can hear the sound of blaster gunfire, an arriving speeder bike. You, Din and Karga all look out through the opening. Karga throws back another shot of spotchka before joining the two of you in watching the once bounty hunter droid take out a considerable amount of stormtroopers, baby in tow, as the two of them make their way to your group.

“Cover us!” Din shouts to Karga, motioning to you to follow him. He pushes the door open and the two of you start blasting, working in tandem to take out as many stormtroopers and death troopers as possible; you work well together. Out of the corner of your eye, you see IG-11 and the baby strapped to him, fighting his way through. You nod at the droid, not bothering to stop shooting. 

Din’s made his way to the E-Web blaster, making easy work of taking it apart, tearing the gun off the platform and using it as a makeshift blaster. You are not going to pay any attention to the way the sight of it is doing a number on your body, especially the lower regions of your belly and down. Now is not the time.

Neither of you notice the lone death trooper putting an explosive on the door of the shot-out cantina. Karga takes the small squad out. 

A blaster bolt hits Din square in the back and he grunts in pain, distracting you. You don’t notice the explosive device next to you as you stop what you’re doing. Was he in this much pain when you shot him? That feels like another lifetime ago now. Had your shot hurt him like this one did? 

Moff Gideon raises his blaster at Din. When had he shown up? After a split second of contemplation, Gideon smiles and changes his aim. Din sees it before you do. 

“Cyar’ika, get out of the way!” he grunts, pushing you with all his might in the seconds before the blast can hit its target. 

The device explodes.

- - - - 

Nine years ago, 0ABY 

You return back to the flat above the cantina four days later. It’s much too soon. Zarah and Zella both protest that you need at least another week, but there was a mining explosion and the medcentre needs as many free beds as possible for the recovering miners. They’re vaguely apologetic and send you off with a vial of bacta and that’s it. You were weaned off the morphling after your second day. 

Zarah helps you up the stairs, rushing you past the spot where the incident that got you into this mess happened. “You’re okay, honey,” she murmurs. The floor where you remember it happening is spotless. Absently, you wonder who cleaned it up.

She hovers. It’s what she does. It feels suffocating. You just want to be left alone for the time being, given some space. When she offers to help you in the fresher, you have to tell her no three times before she listens. You’re positive she’s waiting on the other side of the fresher door. 

It’s the first time in days that you’re really on your own. The first time you can examine the damage in peace. Grateful for the large mirror in the fresher, you take a look at your ribs. The wound isn’t as damaged as it was when the medic had first changed the bandage. They had given you instructions on how to clean it and how often to apply the bacta. It still hurts. The medic had told you just how lucky you are that they were able to contain the poison from the vibroblade. So everyone keeps saying. You don’t feel very lucky right now. You won’t until Mando shows back up. 

So you spend your days in considerable pain, waiting for the return of Mando when you’re not sleeping. You are still convinced that he was there when you first woke up. It felt too real to be a dream or a hallucination. 

He’s just waylaid. He said he was going to come back to you. That he was going to take care of everything… 

In your pain-addled brain, you remember what Xi’an said to you. 

“This will take care of that from happening again,” she had said right before plunging the knife into your ribs. 

Mando had said something similar to you. 

He couldn’t have… No. It’s not like him. He wouldn’t have done something like you’re thinking. 

“I can hear you thinking a mile a minute,” says Zarah, who’s been watching you for the past hour. “What’s going on in there?” 

Sluggishly, you shake your head. “I’m running away with my thoughts,” you tell her. 

“Sometimes it helps to say them out loud.” 

You sigh. “Well, I was just thinking about what happened. What she said before she…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. 

Zarah frowns. “What does that have anything to do with anything?” she asks, not following. 

“Well, she said that what she did takes care of things,” you continue. 

“Right…” 

“Well… earlier, right before Mando left, he said he was going to take care of everything. I know it’s silly and it comes from having far too much time to think, but…” You don’t know how to finish your sentence. You feel so guilty for even thinking these things. Of course Mando had nothing to do with what happened.

Zarah contemplates this. “Hmmm. That is interesting,” she says. Her face gives nothing away. 

“Clearly I have too much time on my hands and my mind is running away from me.” 

“Mmm-hmmm.” She’s not convinced but drops the topic. You don’t feel any better having spoken your thoughts out loud; rather, you feel worse about the whole thing. It doesn’t matter. As soon as Mando shows up, things will be right again. 

But Mando doesn’t show up. The days turn to weeks. Slowly but surely, the pain begins to subside in your chest. Physically, that is. You never stray from waiting for him, though. 

One day, about a month and a half after the whole ordeal, you are dozing in your room, waiting for Mando. You have a good feeling about today, that he is going to show up. 

You think you can hear shouting outside. Zarah’s yelling at someone. You can’t hear who it is. Maybe it’s Mando. You throw back the sheets and blankets and go downstairs as quickly as possible.

By the time you’ve come downstairs, whoever it was that she was yelling at has left. She turns, looking angry, her eyes fiery. “I thought you were sleeping,” she says. 

You give a noncommittal shrug. “Who was that?” you ask. “That you were yelling at.” 

“No one important,” Zarah replies. 

“Oh. I was hoping it was Mando.” 

Zarah’s face softens slightly. “I don’t think he’s coming back, honey. I think he got what he wanted and moved on.” 

He wouldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t. 

“I need to tell you something,” Zarah changes the topic, resting her hands on her stomach, a worried expression crossing over her features. She ignores your own stricken expression.

- - - - 

Present day, 9ABY

The blast from the explosion throws you and Mando back. He takes the brunt of the explosion, while you get off easy. Karga comes out of the cantina just as you’re crawling towards Din, who’s lying spread-eagle on his back, barely clinging to consciousness. You make it to your feet. “Karga!” you call to the former magistrate. “I need your help! I can’t carry him by myself.” You could try, but it would be a futile attempt. He saved you, put himself in the line of fire for you. After everything. How could you ever think that he tried to kill you? You’ve been so wrong about so much for such a long time, made so many mistakes; it shouldn’t have come to this.

The former bounty hunting droid is close enough that he can take out most of the troopers himself. Karga picks up the lower part of Mando’s body while you take him by the top, the two of you working together to carry him into the cantina, IG-11 and the baby taking up the rear. 

“Stay with me. You’re going to be okay. You’re all right, you’re all right,” you say over and over again to Din and you vaguely remember him saying something similar to you many years ago. Stay with me, mesh’la, you’re going to be fine. “Just got the wind knocked out of you, that’s all.” You turn to look at Karga. “We need to get him out of here,” you say more urgently.

“How? The vent’s screwed shut.” IG-11 steps forward and an idea forms in Karga’s mind. “This is our only way out, droid. Can you clear it?” 

IG-11 sets down the child. “If you go near this child, I will have no choice but to kill you,” he informs Karga. 

“Understood. Can you do anything about this grate?” 

“Yes, of course.” IG-11 makes quick work of the grate. 

“Oh, I love IG units,” Karga says almost reverently. 

You return your attention to Din. “Stay with me.” Your voice trembles

Din wakes up. His breathing is shaky. “I’m not gonna make it,” he says, weakly lifting his hand to touch your cheek. “Go on without me.” 

You shake your head, allowing your tears to fall. “Shut up. I’m not leaving without you. I’m not leaving you behind. You’ll be fine.” You hold his head from the back of his helmet.

“Leave me,” he wheezes.

You pull your hand back when you feel it getting warm and sticky. Looking at it, you see it covered in blood. “Shit. We have to take this off, Din. I’m not letting you die. Not when—We still have so much…”

“No,” Mando rasps. “Make sure the child is safe. He needs to be safe. Here.” He rips something from around his neck, giving it to you. A necklace with a mythosaur pendant. “When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that.” His breathing gets more shaky. “You tell them it’s from D-Din Dj-Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection and they’ll help you. I’m just glad that you’ll be safe… that we got to see each other one last time.” 

You shake your head. “That’s not enough for me,” you half-shout, half-sob. “I’m not leaving you like this. We can make it.” 

“I’m not gonna make it, cyare. And you know it. I wish we had more time together. I wish…” 

He doesn’t have time to finish that sentence because at that moment a firetrooper opens fire on the cantina. 

This is it, you think, the way your story is going to end. “I love you,” you say to him. 

He wipes away the stray tears that are still freely falling, his hand lingering on your cheek. “I love you. I’ve always–always loved you.” 

You cover yourself over him; he’s protected you this entire time. It’s only fair that you protect him this time. 

The ring of fire stops for a moment, the entire cantina up in flames. The child is at your feet. Din grunts. “You protect the child. I can hold them back long enough to help you escape. Let me have a warrior’s death.” 

“No,” you repeat. “I’m not leaving you.” Your voice is thick. “I can’t leave you. Not like this.” 

“This is the Way.” 

There is another blast of fire and you cover Din again. The firetrooper enters into the singed cantina and before you or Din or Karga or IG-11 can do anything, the child already has his hands in the air, stopping the flames in their tracks and reversing it back onto the firetrooper. The impact sends the trooper flying back out of the cantina, exploding with a scream. 

The child slumps down, passing out from the exertion of what he just did. In the same moment, IG-11 successfully kicks in the grate, giving you a way out. “Come on! It’s open!” Karga shouts. 

“Go. Go,” Din whispers to you and you start to cry again, shaking your head. This isn’t how you want things to end here. You want to stay with him. 

IG-11 steps over to you, handing you the child who is now back in his bag. “Escape and protect this child. I will stay with the Mandalorian,” he proclaims.

“You heard him,” you tell Karga. “The droid and I are staying with the Mandalorian. Protect the baby.” 

“No, cyare. Y-you go, too. I don’t want you to see this,” Din protests.

You know you have to honour this. Have to honour his last wish. There’s no arguing with him. If he doesn’t want you to see this, then you know it isn’t good. Not that you want to see it. But you would rather stay with him than leave. “Promise me you’ll bring him,” you beg IG-11.

“You have my word.” 

You look at Din, who nods. “Okay. Okay.” Reluctantly you let go of Din’s hand and get up, taking the child from the droid, putting the necklace around his neck. “I love you,” you say again to Din, knowing it is likely to be the last time you have a chance to say it, that when IG-11 brings him, it will only be his body.

“I-I love you, cyar’ika.”   

You follow Greef Karga through the opening and into the darkness, leaving Din alone with the former bounty hunter droid. 

Din knows he’s going to die. He knows this is where his story ends. He only wishes that he was able to properly make things right with you. Though he wanted you to stay with him, he doesn’t want you to see him die. Not like this. “Do it,” he says. “Kill me. I’d rather you kill me than some Imp.” 

The droid seems genuinely confused. “I told you. I am no longer a hunter. I am a nurse droid.” 

Din scoffs. “IGs are all hunters.” 

“Not this one. I was reprogrammed. I need to remove your helmet if I am to save you.” 

The first person he wanted to see his face since childhood is currently with the child, with Greef Karga. He wants you to be the first person to see his face. Not like this though. Not when he’s about to die. “Try it and I’ll kill you. No living thing has seen my face since I swore the Creed.” He holds his blaster up, ready to take the shot if necessary. 

“I am not a living thing,” IG-11 reminds Din before removing the helmet. 

It’s a loophole Din is willing to concede to. He wants to live. Wants to see you again. Wants to show you his face, and not in a moment of pain and fear and grief. Rather, he wants to show you in a private moment. Just you, him and the kid. As IG-11 said himself, the droid is not a living thing. It doesn’t count. 

- - - - 

You and Karga walk in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the drips from the ceiling and the child snuffling in his sleep. 

“So… you and Mando, huh?” Karga asks after a few minutes of quiet walking. 

You turn to look at him, curious where this is going. “Yeah. Me and Mando.” 

Karga chuckles to himself. “I remember back in the day when I was recruiting him to the Guild. Mando had a few conditions. Bringing in prisoner X-6911 was one of them.” At your frown, he amends, “I think you knew him as Qin. Another one was… well, it was bringing you on as a partner.” 

You don’t say anything. All this time, you thought that Mando–Din–had just been saying that. Karga continues.

“Yeah, he couldn’t stop going on about you. Well, as much as Mando can go on about anything. He insisted that you come on as his partner. Adamant. And Mando… Well, you know him. He’s very steadfast in his ways.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” 

Karga goes on. “So he brings back the prisoner and he’s shaken up by something. I thought you would be there, but you weren’t. And right away he went off on some job or other. Never did specify. Was gone for almost two months. I thought in that time he went back to you or…” He shrugs. “I don’t know. But when he came back, he was ready to work for me. He was very broken up about something, but he never said what.”

Again, you’re quiet, not knowing what to say. 

“I asked about you. Mando was very quiet about you. He didn’t say anything more than ‘she’s not coming.’ I never pushed beyond that. I just assumed you changed your mind.” 

You sigh. 

“So I never asked. And Mando just… threw himself into work, like he was trying to fill some sort of void, never taking a break,” Karga explains. 

“Why are you telling me all this?” you ask.  

Greef sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how much you knew. I never expected Mando would go back for you.” 

Neither did you. “I didn’t really know much about any of that. I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter.” 

The child wakes up, starts to fuss. From behind you, there’s a muffled explosion. You turn and hear the sound of mechanical footsteps. A flashlight beam comes into sight as well. It’s IG-11 and— “Din!” you breathe, overwhelmed with relief, quickly handing the child back to IG-11, who has been helping keep Din upright. “I got you,” you say, putting his arm around your shoulder. “Lean on me.” Din does as he’s told. “Are you okay?” you ask. 

“I’m fine, cyar’ika. I’m sorry I gave you a scare like that.” Din almost sounds embarrassed. 

Awkwardly, given your current position, you lean into him. He’s still struggling, definitely had his bell rung, but he’s not on death’s doorstep ready to meet the Maker anymore. “You set the pace, Din,” you tell him. 

“We need to get out of here,” he replies. “The sooner the better.” 

You’re inclined to agree. “This place is a damn maze, though. Do you know the way to the covert?” 

“Not from here. Usually I go in through the bazaar.” Din pauses. “Stop. I can stand,” he says, removing his arm from around you experimentally. 

“The bacta infusion is working,” IG-11 says proudly from behind you. 

Din points. “This way. We’re close.” 

The four of you turn a corner and come across a pile of discarded Mandalorian helmets and armour. Din stops in his tracks, horrified by the sight. “Din…” you whisper. 

He kneels, picks up a helmet. “I can’t leave it this way,” he murmurs. “Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” he asks Karga. 

“No. When you took the prize and left the system, the fighting stopped and the hunters just melted away.” 

You believe Karga, but Din does not. “Did you do this? Did you?!” 

“It was not his doing,” says an unfamiliar voice. A woman’s voice, modulated similarly to Din’s. You turn to see another Mandalorian. “We revealed ourselves. We knew what would happen if we left the covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.” She’s very calm, reminding you of yourself as the queenpin. 

“Did any survive?” asks Mando. 

“I hope so,” says the woman, picking through the beskar remnants. “Some may have escaped off-world.”

“Come with us,” he offers.

“No. I will not leave until I have salvaged what remains.” 

You step forward. “We need your help.” 

The woman pushes her cart of beskar away, urging you to follow her. “Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.” 

IG-11 steps forward, showing the child. “This is the one,” says Din. 

“This is the one you hunted, then saved?” the armorer asks. 

Din nods. “Yes. The one that saved me as well, from the mudhorn.” 

You turn to look at Din. All the things he’s done. 

“It looks helpless,” the armorer judges. Anger flares in you for such a blase judgment of this child.

“It is injured, but not helpless,” Din defends. “Its species can move objects with its mind.” The armorer begins to explain the Jedi, describing how they are an ancient race of warrior sorcerers, rivals to Mandalore the Great.

“It is an enemy?” asks Din. 

“It is a foundling,” amends the armorer, setting something up at her workstation. “By Creed, it is in your care. You must reunite it with its kind. Where, you must determine.”

Din is in disbelief. “You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this child and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?”

“This is the Way.”

“Not to rush things,” says Karga as the armorer begins banging with a hammer on something, “but we should discuss an escape plan.” 

The armorer doesn’t look up from her work. “Follow the descending tunnels, they will lead you to the river and beyond that, the lava flats.” To Din, she says, “You have a foundling in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. You have earned your signet.”

You don’t think that Din needs a proclamation like that to make it true; you’ve seen how he’s been like a father to the child over the past couple of days. The armorer brands a mudhorn into Din’s pauldron. “You are a clan of two,” she says. 

“Thank you. I will wear this with honour.” 

- - - - 

The four of you leave with the child, Din, with something called a Rising Phoenix, something that he’s told to practice with before using. You have a hard time believing that that will actually happen. You leave the armorer woman behind as Imperial stormtroopers are making their way towards you. You can only hope that she makes it out okay. 

After your conversation with Karga earlier, what he had said, you remember something that you wanted to ask a few nights ago. “Can I ask you something?” You fall into step beside Din, Karga and IG-11 a few paces ahead of you.

Din nods. “Sure.”

“Did you—I was really spaced out on morphling and bacta when I first woke up after Xi’an… After she…” You swallow. “So I don’t know if this is a dream or a memory, but were you there in the medcentre when I first woke up? Or is that a half-remembered dream or a hallucination that I had?” 

Whatever Mando had been expecting you to say, it wasn’t this. “I was there. I was…” He clears his throat. “I was the one who found you in the cantina. I came back early because Qin had been apprehended and I didn’t want to wait to bring him in before coming to get you.”

I’ve got you, cyare. Stay with me, you’re going to be just fine. His words echo in your ears, thought to be long-forgotten.

You didn’t know that he’d come back for you, that he’d been the one to find you. You had always assumed that an Imperial officer had been alerted to the commotion and brought you to the medcentre. You blink at him. “Where did you go? I went back to sleep and when I woke up the next time, you were gone.” Your voice is non-accusatory, just curious.

Din sighs. “I had to turn in Qin. Karga was getting impatient and I didn’t want to leave him in the Crest by himself, even if he was cuffed and unconscious. I thought it would only be a day or two at most, but then I thought I should look for Xi’an to bring her in, too. I knew that she likely had a bounty on her head as well. But she vanished, disappeared into thin air like a ghost. I never saw her again until last week. And by the time I came back, well…” He trails off, not needing to tell the rest of the story right now. You can fill in the blanks.

You’ve stopped walking. Karga and IG are many paces ahead of you. “What’s the holdup?” Karga calls back. “We need to hurry.” 

“We’ll be right there,” you reply. To Din, you say, “I… There’s so much that we need to talk about when this is over.”

Din nods in agreement. “There is.” 

“When this is over and we’re out of here and we’ve had a chance to talk,” you continue, “I still need you to take me back to Kijimi. There are some things I need to do.”

--- taglist in reblog.

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fan fiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x f!reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x f!reader #my writing #my fic #dreams dashed and divided

[biblicallyaccuratebeskar]

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Chapter 13/22: ~1.2K words

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Despite my protests, Mando, Din, came out with me to asses the damage.

It was luckily less than I feared, mainly just exterior paneling. The only issue was there was no civilization within eyesight in every direction. Just sand and rock. At least we were that far away from any hunters then, too. I could tell he was hurting, but I did take comfort in the fact that wasn’t, you know, actively dying anymore.

Seeing him like that stirred something deep and primal within me, a new and horrifying fear. Din was covered in armor, but he wasn’t as invincible as he let on. He was still human. Achingly so.

“Hello there!”

We both rapidly looked around for the source of the voice, blasters drawn.

I saw the figure, silhouetted on the hill. It was bizarrely shape, a tiny head and enormous, bulbous body with a pointed tail.

Only when it approached us did I realize it was actually a small rider on a bizarre looking creature. It was an Ugnaught wearing comedically large riding goggles.

“A bit of a rough landing, I see?”

Din suggestively tilted his helmet towards me in agreement. I was never going to live this down, was I.

“Uh, well yeah, had to find somewhere to land. This isn’t your property, is it?”

“Oh, no. It’s just when you see a ship fall from the sky one tends to be curious. You will be needing repairs,” he said gesturing to, well, everything.

“If you could point us in the direction of the nearest trading post, it would be appreciated,” Din said.

“Well I can tell you it is in that direction,” he began, pointing east, “but it is not attainable on foot. You will need assistance. Come. You must take blurrg.”

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“I have spoken.”

He gently pulled on the creature’s saddle, the aforementioned blurrg I assumed, and turned away before we could say anything more.

What other option did we have? We begrudgingly followed him over the hill and came to a small hut surrounded by animal pens and moisture pods. The pens contained other blurrgs, frolicking around and trumpeting.

“We have to ride those things?” Din sighed.

I smiled. “Big, bad bounty hunter scared of a little blurrg?”

His helmet turned to me as if to go, “Really?”

The Ugnaught led us over to a pen. “These two are already saddled and accustomed to a rider. Now, they must become accustomed to you. Approach them cautiously. They are carnivorous.”

Amazing. To my secret relief, Din tried first, squatting lightly as the blurrg squared to face him. With a bellow the creature ran towards him with the swing of a snout knocked him across the pen.

“Mando!”

He waved up a hand to indicate he was fine. “He doesn’t seem,” he groaned, “pleased.”

“It is a she,” the Ugnaught interjected. “The females eat the males during the mating season.”

“That sounds about right,” Din replied, looking at me. My jaw dropped and I could see him chuckle.

After a few more rounds of them running in circles around each other, Din finally mounted the blurrg. My turn.

I tentatively approached the other one. Steam blew from its nostrils and its giant eyes flashed at me.

Ok. I’m not here to hurt you, I thought. I’m relaxed. You’re relaxed. Let’s all be relaxed, ok?

I swear it was like she listened. As I got closer she didn’t budge, even when I gently rested a hand on her snout. At the touch she grunted, wagging her tail.

I laughed. “Friends? Yeah, friends!” I slowly got in the saddle and the blurrg didn’t protest. Beaming, I looked over at the Ugnaught. He was clapping politely. Din seemed slightly peeved, but still impressed.

The Ugnaught opened the gate, saying, “I would say to tell the vendor that Kuiil sent you, but I would hope that the blurrgs speak for themselves. Keep moving. The night is not a good time to ride in these parts.”

“Thank you, Kuiil,” Din said. “We have credits for when we return.” “That is unnecessary. I have everything I need,” Kuiil replied hands waving in refusal, nodding courteously as we passed through the gate.

“That’s very kind,” I said.

“Kindness is in short supply in the galaxy these days. I must do my part.”

——

The vendor had what we needed, minus just a few things that could wait another trip or so. We tied the bags to the blurrgs and made our way back to Kuiil’s hut as the sun dipped over the horizon.

We were almost back, when suddenly the blurrgs became skittish, swaying their heads and refusing to walk any further.

Din and I both dismounted. I walked to the front of mine, rubbing her snout.

“What’s up, girl? Something got you spooked?” I could feel the fear rolling off of her in waves, her pupils constricting.

“Din, something’s wrong, I think there’s-“

The sand exploded behind us and the blurrgs took off squealing.

A monstrous sand creature emerged from the ground, at least six legs waving in the air as its toothy mouth bellowed into the night. It towered over us as its scaly body unfurled.

We both started blasting, but the shots bounced off its thick skin. It hissed, a deep rattling sound echoing from its abdomen as it scuttled towards us.

“Run!” I screamed, and we took off, it quickly catching up to us. One leg swung out, knocking Din off his footing and he went down. The creature was about to strike, but I shot it in the face before it could do so, distracting it and sufficiently pissing it off.

I ran in the opposite direction, feeling the ground shake as it came after me. Behind, I heard Din activate the thrusters of his Rising Phoenix. I looked back just long enough to see him grab on to the creature’s neck, flame thrower spitting fire into the air widly as it tried to shake him off.

I aimed my blaster, but couldn’t get the shot, afraid I’d shoot him instead. The blaster didn’t work anyways. I flicked out my knife. “Din!” I yelled showing it to him. Then, I threw it with all my might at the creature. It made its mark, sinking in to the flesh on its chest. It roared in pain, but it was like giving it a paper cut. Din reach down and yanked it out, and the creature took advantage, flicking its neck and sending him falling to the ground. He was pinned, only a knife lifted up as the creature’s jaws flew down to crush him.

No. I couldn’t lose him like this. I wouldn’t.

Like it was instinct, my hands flew up and the creature stopped mid motion, jerking and twitching.

I shook as I got a hold of it, never before able to latch to anything’s energy on at will. Well, I’d never really tried.

Muscles shivering, I motioned upwards and I watched as its feet left the ground. There was a tide between us, ebbing and flowing and I felt myself being pulled out into a great sea of nothingness.

In one fluid movement, Din reached up and slashed its throat with my knife. It gurgled and screeched as if shuddered to the ground. He was safe.

My knees gave out and the world went dark.

#metal home #din djarin #din djaren #din djarin fic #din djarin x oc #din djarin x female oc #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x female oc #mandalorian fic #mandalorian x oc #mandalorian slow burn #mandalorian x female reader

[babygirlrex0504]

Bounty Pt 7

Kuiil is gone and the child’s whereabouts are unknown. As you, Mando, Greef, and Cara are surrounded by the man named Moeff Gideon you all try to find a way to escape and defeat this Gideon.

Taglist: @pascalshimbo @flowersgirl02 @yourunstablegf

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Bounty Series

The Clan of Three Series

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It fell silent in the cantina, no one moved. There wasn’t even movement outside. You could only hear the wind outside yet it was a small gust. “Is there another way out?” Cara asked looking around.

“No, that's it.” Greef answered looking at the door.

“What about the sewers? Sewers?” You asked looking outside yet again.

“The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape.” Din explained softly.

“Yeah, sewers are good.” Greef agreed looking at the crate.

“Trust in the force.” You snapped your head up looking around. Everything zoned out as you tuned in more. “Y/N trust in the force. Fight. Get the child.” You knew that voice.

“Master?” You whispered. But it was gone as fast as it appeared.

“They're setting up an E-Web.”

You popped up to see no shit a E-Web, you only heard stories when you hid from the Empire and the troopers talking about it. You leaning back down of the bar. “That’s not good.” You said looking at Din.

“It's over.” Cara noted leaning his head on the pillar.

“I found the sewer vent.” Greef said looking at the crate. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

We watched as she fiddled with gate. “It's assembled! How long until that thing's cleared?” You said watching as they mounted it.

“Blow it.”

“I’m out of charges.” Din said looking back.

“Get out of the way!” Cara yelled as she aimed at it and shot it.

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation. I would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration. Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model,” You looked at Cara and she looked actually terrified. You inhaled and looked back out. “ Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears. Or the former padawan Y/N and L/N as she ran for her life during the rise of the Empire, after seeing her Master be gunned down by her own men.” You could feel eyes on you. You could remember it very well.

Captain Yull stood straight next to your Master as they overlooked the battle we just finished. The news was told that Maul was captured and Grevious was dead, soon the Separatists would fall as well. That’s when the force felt wrong, it was a shift in the air. You looked up at you Master for her look upset hurt, in pain. That’s when the nightmare began. You and your master tried to escape but before you could she got struck down by the clones. All you could do is watch as she yelled for you to run and not to stop. They were your friends. Now they are killers.

“I'm a Rebel Shock Trooper. They'll upload me to a Mind Flayer.” Cara said shaking her head. You looked down.

“Those aren't real. That was just wartime propaganda.” Greef reassuring her.

“I don't care to find out. I'm shooting my way out of here.”

“What about you, Mando?” Greef asked as you looked over.

“I know who he is.” He said. “It's Moff Gideon.”

“No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.” Cara corrected.

“It's him. He knew my name.”

“So what does that prove?”

“I haven't heard that name spoken since I was a child.” He explained looking down at you.

“When you were born on Mandalore?” Greef asked.

“I was not born on Mandalore.” You looked at Din and looked at Greef.

“But you're a Mandalorian.” Greef asked confused.

“Mandalorian isn't a race. It's a Creed. I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That's how I know it's him,” Din explained then looked down at me. “That's how he knows who we all are. He says he needs us, which means the child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn't respond, but if they'd captured the kid, we'd already be dead.”

“He is.” You whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

“How do you know?” Cara asked looking down at you.

“I don’t know, I just know something isn’t right.” You explained looking up outside again.

“Hail him again.” Greef commented looking at Din.

“Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil?” Din said then looked at us. “Nothing. They might have jammed the link.”

“Kuiil has been terminated.” The IG unit said through the comms yoh snapped your head up.

“What did you do?” Din asked with venom behind his voice.

“I am fulfilling my base function.”

“Which is?” You asked waiting for the response.

“To nurse and protect.”

That’s when you heard blaster fire outside, you perked you head up to see them looking in another direction. When watching you saw a speeder heading straight towards the cantina. You watched as the speeder exploded and IG walked off with the child in hand. “What’s that!” Cara said.

“Look alive.” That’s when Din went to the door and opened it. You stood up ready to go when you felt the whole world slow down.

“Do not be afraid. Trust in the force.” You froze looking outside as Din and Greef were out and Cara standing up shooting outside.

You put your blaster away and grabbed behind you, holding your sabers. You ignited both of them and walked out, troopers looked over and started to blast their weapons at you. You deflected them as you let the bolts hit at least one of them. Din looked over to watch you throw your saber as it got caught into one of the troopers chest. You forced pulled it back and looked over at Din.

“We have to get the child out of here.” You yelled at him force pulling a weapon from a trooper. You looked over at IG as he fell with the child.

Din nodded at you and he went over to the EWeb and started to shoot out to the troopers. It was going well as you went around until you heard an explosion in the cantina. You snapped your head to see more troopers going inside. You started to head there then you saw Moeff shooting at Din before you could do anything an explosion pushed you back where he was.

“No!” You yelled getting up, your ears were ringing as you sprinted to him.

IG and Greef covered you while you ran to him. You slid to grab Din. “Din!” He was responding. You looked at IG. “Cover me!”

Cara was next to you as she helped you bring him back into the cantina. You placed him down against the table. You heard him groan. “Din,” You whispered.

“We need the gate open!” Cara yelled then you looked over at the hole.

“I will be right back.” You whispered igniting one of your sabers.

“I got him.” Cara said as she sat by him.

Before you reached over to the cover fire came flowing in. You ducked down and saw fire building up. “Come on.” Greef said looking at you. You tried to get the gate open as your save cut through.

When you looked back up you saw the trooper with a flamethrower come in. You watched in horror as the child stood between Din and Cara. You were about to stop until you watched the fire be stopped like an invisible wall was there. You smiled as he pushed the fire towards the trooper having him burn. You looked back down and popped it open. “Alright everyone through!” You said walking back to Din.

“He’s saying he isn’t coming.” Cara said when I was near them.

“What,” You snapped looking down. “No, you are coming with.” You knelt down.

“I'm not gonna make it. Go.” He said, his voice hoarse. You put your hand behind his neck before feeling blood.

You looked at your hand trying to gulp down the fear that came through your throat. “Shut up. You just got your bell rung. You'll be fine.” Cara said looking at me nodding.

“Leave me.”

“No.” You whispered. “ I'm gonna need to take this thing off and help…”

“No leave Cyare.” He whispered.

IG came over to hand the child to Cara talking with her. “You make sure the child is safe. Here,” He handed you a small beskar skull that had a fabric holding it. “When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that,” You shook your head and whispered no over and over. “You tell them it's from Din Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you.”

“No I won’t leave you here. We can go together. We can make it.” You said tears in your eyes.

“Come on! Let's go!” Greef called out.

“I'm not gonna make it and you know it. Protect the child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape,” You shook your head before you felt his hand on your cheek. He moved his thumb wiping the dirt, blood, and sweat off. “Let me have a warrior's death.”

“I am not leaving you here.” You whispered.

“This is the Way.” He whispered before letting his hand down his side.

You stood up looking over at where Greef went through as Cara handed the kid to him. IG was standing next to you. “Escape and protect the child. I will stay with the Mandalorian.”

You stared up at him tears welling. “Promise you will bring him” You said with a shaky breath.

“You have my word.” You looked back down at Din as his visor was staring at you. You put the neckless over your head.

You turned and went inside the hole. “Here.” Cara whispered handing you the kid.

You looked down at him, as he laid asleep. You held him close as you looked up walking forward. “He will be fine right?” Cara asked as the footsteps echoed.

“I told IG to bring him.” You said quickly trying not to think about it. Trying not to think about losing yet another person in this damn galaxy. You looked down at the child, still asleep.

As you kept walking you heard more footsteps than there was before. You snapped your head around and reached for your saber, igniting it. Cara and agreed turned as well. You all waited until you saw Din and IG. “Din.” You whispered as Cara helped when he almost fell. “I got you.”

He looked forward at you and you have him a reassuring smile. “Do you know which way to go?”

“No. I don't know these tunnels. I've only entered from the bazaar.” Din explained as he limped forward.

“Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and we follow it, it'll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.” Greef explained.

“And the Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship.” Cara added.

“We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety.” Din replied.

Cara groaned and helped Din more. “this place is a maze.”

Din stopped making you turn around

“Stop. I can stand.” Din stood more straight.

“The bacta infusion is working.” IG commented.

We followed him as he lead us to where his covert would be. “I'll try to find tracks. We're close. Turn here.”

When you turned the corner Din stood still and was looking down. You followed his sight to see more Mandalorian armor laid out, stacked up. You looked back up as he still stood there. You walked up to him as you handed the sleeping child to Cara. “We have to go.” You whispered grabbing his arm.

“You go. Take the ship. I can't leave it this way,” He whispered before looking up at Greef. “Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” He took a step forward to Greef. You watched as Greef took a step back.

“No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They're mercenaries. They're not zealots.” He explained.

“Did you do this? Did you!” Din yelled his voice echoing.

“No!”

“It wasn’t his fault. We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert,” When you turned to see another Mandalorian she wore gold and red with horns on her helmet. “ The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.”

“Did any survive?” Din asked as he walked to her sitting down.

You looked around to see the same animal skull hanging on the wall that was on the neckless. You looked down as you fiddled with it. You tried to remember what it was, you have seen it before in lesson. “The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore The Great, and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”

You looked up as Din side glanced at you before looking back at the armor.

“It is an enemy?”

“No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not.” She looked up at you. “Are you?”

“As individuals we are different. We share the same force but in different ways.” You shortly explained, you wondered how she knew but didn’t ask, since she most likely see the sabers.

“So what is it?” Din asked looking at the child that was near them.

“It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care.” She stated walking over to her station.

“You wish me to train this thing?” Din asked sounding a bit confused.

It is too weak. It would die. You have no choice. You must reunite it with its own kind or have her train it.” She said looking at you.

You shook your head. You had to disagree, you never finished your training hell you barely set foot on war soil. “I can not, I didn’t finish my own training.” You said looking at the child. “We would have to find a Master or a Padawan that has finished their training. But I can not.”

They both looked at each other before Din spoke. “Where do we find one.”

“This, you must determine.” She replied going back to what she was doing.

“You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?” Din said you looked down by using the word enemy.

“This is the Way.”

“Hey. These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.” Cara said to everyone.

“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats.” The lady Mandalorian explained.

Cara walked up to you. “I think we should go.” You nodded looking at Din

“I'm staying. I need to help her and I need to heal.” Din said without looking back.

“You must go. A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way,” She disagreed walking up to Din. “You have earned your Signet. You are a clan of three.”

“Thank you. I will wear this with honor.” Din said.

“Three?” You said looking at the Mandalorian.

“Clan of three.” She repeated looking at you and approached you with a small neckless with a mud horn on it. She moved placed it over your neck next to the other. She looked down closely. “This is the Way.” She said looking back up.

“We should go.” Cara said looking down the hall.

Before you all headed to the river you watched as the Mandalorian handed IG a jet pack, informing him it was for Din once he has healed. You smiled, knowing how much he had been wanting that since the first time you left here with the child. Everyone grabbed ammunition before heading out as well.

You saw the Mandalorian hand one more thing to Din before he put it in a small pouch, you looked back at the child as he made a small cooing sound. “Child is fine. Still asleep.” IG reassured you as you smiled and nodded at him.

After Din was finished we all ran to the boat that was on the molten river. You stared and noticed the droid was old, the others noticed as well as you all pushed the boat to get going and boarded, the droid beeped as IG helped us know what he was saying. We told it to go downstream then it head down. It was slow and all of you were anxious on getting out.

It wasn’t long when the tunnel was ending. “That's it. We're free!” Greef yelled but you saw a glimpse of a trooper.

You shook your head. “No. No, we're not. Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel.”

“It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming.” Cara said looking at Din.

“Stop the boat Hey, Droid, I said stop the boat. Hey! I'm talking to you. I said stop!”

“We're still moving.”

“Looks like we fight.”

“There are too many. Then what do you suggest? 'Cause I can't surrender.”

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child.This is unacceptable I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

“You don't have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn't even get to daylight.”

“That is not my objective.”

“We're getting close. Saddle up.”

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

“What're you talking about?”

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

“Are we gonna keep talking, or we get out of here?”

“I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the child.”

“Wait. You can't self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right? Right?”

“That is correct.”

“Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”

“Listen, you're not going anywhere. We need you. Let's just come up with a...”

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

“But you'll be destroyed.”

“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”

“No. We need you.”

“There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”

“I'm not sad.”

“Yes, you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice.”

“IG? What're you doing?” IG walked out of the boat as the lava started to melt his legs slowly.

You looked away once he got to the end of the tunnel. You heard the explosion, when you looked back you were basically out, smoke surrounded the boat as the troopers that once stood had steam coming off of their bodies.

That’s when you heard a ship above you. You snapped your head up. “Oh no.” You pulled your sabers and igniting them.

“Moff Gideon!” Greef yelled. Moff shot but you noticed it was around all of you. “He missed!”

“He won’t next time.” Din said looking up.

“Our blasters are useless against him.” Cara commented looking at you.

“Let's make the baby do the magic hand thing. Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing,” Greef waved at the kid. Having the kid wave back. “I'm out of ideas.”

You shook your head. “That’s not how it works Greef.”

“I’m not.” Din said grabbing his jet pack.

“Here he comes!” Greef yelled.

You looked up as the tie fighter came right towards all of you. They shot as it got closer. Once it got to close you forced jumped and landed on the fighter. You felt your leg get nicked from how fast the fighter was going. You looked forward to have the wind pass your hair. You breathed heavily as you climbed closer to the cockpit.

You looked back to hear see Din was flying with you too. He came next to you. You smiled as you ignited one your sabers, he shot a couple of times over Moff. Before you could Moff turned the fighter making your and Din roll to slamming into him. The saber just inches from cutting him, You looked at the wing then at Din. “I am going to cut the wing!” You yelled over the fighter shifting through the air.

Din looked up at the large wing before nodding. When you stood up you Din grabbed your ankles as you swung. It cut a bit shifting slightly. You did it once twice then half of it was dangling. The fighter shifted down quickly making you get snatched from the sudden gust of air. You felt Din’s hand disappear, you squeezed your eyes shut as your whole body started to spin. When you opened them you were noticing how high you were. You watched as the fighter crashed and what looked like no one could have survived if.

When you looked back your heart raced as the ground started to get closer. You closed your eyes until you felt someone quickly snatch you. You jolted into the cool metal, leaning into the metal. “I gotcha.” He said holding you close as well.

You smiled at him as he flew you both to where Greef and Cara stood with the kid. When he landed he did it slow before putting you down, you both wobbled to stand. You found that now everything has fallen silent with no war noises growing around you.

As Din talked to the others you walked over to pick the child up. “How you feeling kiddo?” You held him close to you as he cooed and giggled.

“You ready?” Din asked making you turn around. You nodded smiling at him.

Cara came up to you and pet the child’s ear. “Take care of this little one,” She looked back at Din. “Or maybe it’ll take care of the both of you.”

You smiled and nodded back, you said your goodbyes and headed back to the Crest. Your stomach turned to think about the kid leaving the both of you, finding a master. You tried to think if there was even a master out there alive. You knew many and most of them are gone. However you knew the force would guide the both of you to where one can safely have him.

#din djarin x f!reader #mando #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandolarian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #jedi reader #pedro pascal #din djarin

[oh-three]

Mando S3E6:

- Oh no, he's going back to Trask, isn't he? - But....the fish............That felt so cruel to it omg. - Ayyy, Bo-Katan's Mandos. Koska Reeves is back, nice. And is that Axe Woves doing the speaking? He didn't have much screentime before. (It is him!) - The Mon Calamari sounds familiar. - NOOO, THEY BROKE THE TITLE THEME CHAIN. - Yeah, no, not Trask. - Accidental tourism 101 - Damn, that is a fast train. Getting Hunger Games & Jurassic World vibes here. - ..............What the hell is this place. - "You want us to eliminate your droid problem." Oh my god. - "You had me at" Ayyy, never thought I'd hear that line in Star Wars, especially not from Din. - Whoaa, okay, this is robot workforce future but Star Wars. Didn't see that coming. Also, yeah, this whole episode is a prime example of why we shouldn't do let t hat happen irl. - Ayyyyyy, Din's mention of Kuiil and "I have spoken" to get the Ugnaughts to hear them out. Didn't realize "I have spoken" was a cultural thing of their kind. - ominous marching noises - THEY USED THE SAME B1 VOICE ACTOR FROM TCW! MATTHEW WOOD MY BELOVED. - Ah, the droid problem. - Holy fuck, it just threw a crate. I didn't realize Super Battle Droids could do that. Or jump, or tear things up. Guess they'd capable of more than shooting, huh? - "You kicking droids is really not helpful." / "I figured out which one was malfunctioning, didn't I?" 😂 - Damn, okay, the bartender does give a good point though. - There we go. Nanodroids. Of course. - I knew there was something off about the Head of Security, but wow. He's a Separatist. I didn't see that coming. - Grogu, that's cheating! - We're finally getting somewhere omg - Ooh, Mandalorian challenge ritual. - I feel like I've seen Woves's actor in something else before, but maybe not. No, I have. Bakshi, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I just watched that last year, hence why I didn’t recognize him back in S2. I wonder how it passed me by when I watched AOS though. Like, I didn’t recognize him at all then. Glad to see Woves being given the screentime for me to recognize him now, though. - Now that the argument's turned to Din's ways, why do I feel like he's about to remove his helmet? - No shit, I thought her saving him previously would come back to haunt him like this. But damn, he's just giving it to her like that, I still kinda didn't see it coming. - There you go, Bo. Happy now? You got the Darksaber, you got your fleet, what more do you need? - LMFAO I KNEW THE COMMISSIONER LOOKED FAMILIAR. LITERALLY CHRISTOPHER LLOYD.

No hate, but this is definitely my least favorite episode out of each season so far. The whole society on this planet somehow both bored and annoyed me, and I’m not quite sure why. Probably got something to do with the naivety of the rulers giving droids full access to the workforce. There were a couple of really neat cameos though, and I loved the scenes featuring Din & Bo’s dynamic. Oh, and her fight with Woves, that was neat, glad neither of them died.

#the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian #star wars

[moon-ursidae]

THE MANDALORIAN 3x06 SPOILERS

i’m caught up! didn’t think i would tonight but here we are!

i’ve seen some heavy spoilers for this ep already :/

so i know some of what’s coming

more darksaber focus in the “previously” hmm

god they really have just been setting shit up that bo-katan is gonna get the darksaber back and rule the mandalorians

last episode really propelled that one

idk i’m just kinda annoyed at this point

this season is just- ugh idk

i’m just gonna shut the fuck up about it until the episode is over

or when it’s relevant to the episode

empire ship??

WOAH THE WAY THAT TANK DRAINED WAS FUCKIN SICK

THAT’S A WHOLE STAR DESTROYER??

OH???? I WAS WONDERING WHEN THESE 2 WOULD SHOW BACK UP

AHHHHHHHH

omg the drama of this romance

guns for hire OOOOOOOOO THIS INTRO GOES HARD

i like that bo’s formed a relationship w grogu but that also makes me scared

like there’s so many things that make me think that something is gonna happen to din…

all of these major plot points being given to bo katan?? bad news bears man

god din is so attractive

i’m still shocked when i hear his name

like it’s still insider info to me

JACK BLACK AND LIZZO OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOOODDDDDDD

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

IAVSKABSKEBFKXBZKZVAOSVSKSBAL

i know lizzo was GEEKING being able to hold grogu

she’s gorgeous

jack black is having a week huh? fuckin good for him he deserves it

droid problem?

god i love jack black he’s so silly

“progrum” HAHAHAHAHAHA

BATTLE DROIDS?

din may fuck shit up if that’s the case

this feels so fucking video game-y

grogu do be lovin the scritches

GOD THE DIN DJARIN HEAD TILT™️ SO HOT

“you had me at battle droids” i knew he was gonna fuck shit up

HOLD ON I JUST HEARD “these droids” AND PAUSED IS THAT FUCKING CHRISTOPHER LLOYD

OH MY GOOOOOODDDDDDDDDD

IT’S FUCKING CHRISTOPHER LLOYD

the music from season 2 UGH so good

the fucking seperatist droids oh my god there’s so much history with these droids and din and bo

UGNAUGHTS???

DIN ASKING ABOUT THEM TOO UUGGHHHH

KUIIL I MISS YOU

if nobody hates droids, din djarin has left this realm.

one thing about din djarin? he’s gonna look damn good in an elevator

i’m gonna fucking cry if nick nolte voices any of these ugnaughts

“i am mandalorian din djarin, friend of ugnaught kuiil. you will answer our qustions and help us with our task. i have spoken.” I HAVE SPOKEN😭😭😭😭😭😭

THE WAY THEY IMMEDIATELY LISTEN AT THE MENTION OF KUIIL 😭😭😭😭

the voice of this ugnaught is SO FAMILIAR.

it’s pissing me off that i can’t name the actor

the practical effects are fucking awesome

it’s gonna piss me off that i can’t name that voice actor

ANYWAY

god the lights reflecting off of din’s armor is so sexy and will never not be sexy

BATTLE DROIDS SINCE THE CLONE WARS??? SO HIS HOME WORLD WAS ATTACKED AFTER???

din’s gonna fuck around and find out huh?

HOLY SHIT HE DEFINITELY FOUND OUT

HE GOT HIS SHIT ROCKED

that’s concussion # what now?? like 60?

THE SOUND OF THE DROID HITTING THE BESKAR HAHA

now THIS is the bounty hunting shit i missed

THAT LOOKED A LOT LIKE R2D2???

PLEASE THE WAY HE DOVE THROUGH THE WINDOW??? HE’S SO CRAZY I LOVE HIM SO MANY

THE LIGHTING IS FUCKING GORGEOUS

THIS IS THE BOUNTY HUNTING SHIT THAT I’VE MISSED OH MY GOD

this is also so obi-wan and anakin coded

plz din is so stubborn i love him

YOU CAN’T TAKE THE BOUNTY HUNTER OUT OF HIM I LOVE IT

this is literally an rpg game. there’s side quests to side quests and quest steps to quest steps

this is just becoming an episode of criminal minds: star wars edition

DARKSABER DARKSABER DARKSABER DARKSABER DARKSABER DARKSABER

THE MUSIC CUE AHHHH

THIS IS LITERALLY JUST AN EPISODE OF CRIMINAL MINDS HAHAHA

CHRISTOPHER LLOYD TEA TEA TEA

SEPERATIST??

COUNT DOOKU??

AHHHHHHH

YES MORE JACK BLACK AND LIZZO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

SHE’S SLAYING

OH MY GOD GROGU HELPING HER😭😭😭

the difference between axe at the beginning seperating lovers meanwhile din and bo are helping these two lovers is so good

DIN DJARIN OF CONCORDIA?????

CRYING CRYING CRYING CRYING

HIS FULL TITLE I’M YELLING

KNIGHTHOOD FOR GROGU YEAAAAAAAA

oh god here we go

the gurls are fighting 👀

damn she rocked his ass

oh he’s pissed goddamn

this is crazy

wait is the knee slide in this episode?? i know kate was talkin about it in an interview but idk if it’s this ep

not this fight i guess

that was a cool fight sequence tho!!

here we go about who is the actual leader and who has the fucking darksaber

he’s gonna give her the darksaber isn’t he?

HE IS EVERY BIT THE MANDALORIAN THAT THEY WERE YUUUP YUUP YUUP LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

“then she shall have it” I FUCKING KNEW IT.

“would it not belong to her?” i-

ANYWAY

DIRECTED BY BRYCE DALLAS HOWARD YUUUUUUP YUUUUP YUUUUP SHE SLAYS EVERY TIME

i’m gonna do a whole seperate post about some of my other thoughts bc i have MANY.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian s3 spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #the mandalorian season three spoilers #the mandalorian 3x06 spoilers

[welikethoseoddslove]

Adventure (A Din x reader story pt.3)

Warnings: Mild Language, physical contact (non-violent), mentions of killing, aIso the gif isn't mine

Pairing: Mando x reader (the 18+ content starts later, this is, again just a real long introduction between you two...we'll get to the spicy stuff soon I promise)

Previous Chapter Summary: Dead set on stopping any bounty hunter from harming the Child, you're faced with ending up having to fight the Mandalorian. A task you are dreading. But in the mean time, you can't let Kuiil know your secret plan and must help him train the warrior to ride a blurrg.

“A bounty hunter” you confirm, looking over at him. He nods. You hoped he couldn’t hear the shake in your voice. How were you going to stop this one?

“Thank you” the voice that came from under the helmet was deep, earthy. You had to take a second to process how sincere that statement sounded.

You were about to get him as far from this place as possible, give him some bad directions or something, but Kuiil, worried by the sounds of the Blurrg fight, was right on your tail.

He saw the blinking tracking fob you were still holding and looked down at the Mandalorian.

“We will help you.”

The bounty hunter looked up at him, about to stand in protest, but Kuiil shut that notion down with his simple yet, somehow always effective, “I have spoken”

You smirked remembering the first time you had heard him say that. In a situation not too dissimilar to this. Oh god…but you were no Mandalorian. This legendary thing before you…he was supposed to be the best of the best. The most resilient, well equipped fighters in the land. How were you supposed to stop him? This would be a hard fight. This could be a deadly fight. Oh Maker, what had you gotten yourself into?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Kuiil gesturing towards you.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, realizing you had completely zoned out.

“I said he will ride with you.” He explained.

“Um. What?” you blurted out. Blurrgs were definitely not made to accommodate a second rider…let alone one as…you glanced down at the armored man…let alone one as broad as that.

“It will be a short ride. And there are near invisible ravine openings in the land here that only the blurrgs raised in this valley can avoid. It is like the map is etched in their mind.” He explained to the bounty hunter, sounding quite proud of his animals. Normally you would have smiled quietly at this, finding the old man sweet. At this point he felt like a grandfather to you.

But you couldn’t focus on that because the bounty hunter had hopped on behind you and to balance had to press his firm chest-plate up against your back. “You better hold on, Mandalorian,” you said gruffly, really not loving this situation. You weren’t ready for this. You had to train more, get back into the swing of things. Oh what were you on about? Even at your best, you would have never been able to beat a Mandalorian. You were going to die. You were straight up just…going to die. Maker. Shit.

You really hoped he didn’t have some mind-reading tech programmed into that helmet of his. Oh but he definitely has a pulse sensor.

Realizing this, you focused on your breathing. Slow intakes of breath cooled you down. You tried to put your frantic thoughts out of your mind and focus on…something real. Something tangible. The familiar hopping of the blurrg, and the rough rope reins in your hands, and the strong arms around your waist-

Wait…what?

You had been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed when the bounty hunter, obeying your command, had wrapped his arms fully around you. You weren’t small by any means, with a decent build and muscular core, but his armored forearms dwarfed your waist…

Though you were moderately successful at keeping your heartrate down for the rest of the ride back to the farm, you couldn’t help but let a blush creep onto your cheeks whenever the bounty hunter would tighten his arms around you at a particularly high jump or how at the landing he would kind of jostle into you and mutter something like a sorry as his leather-clad fingers dug into you.

As you all dismounted in front of the farm-house Kuiil commented bluntly on the Mandalorian’s shaky-looking riding skills. He said we would have to train him before he would be able to reach the encampment.

It was hilarious to watch. Seeing the Mandalorian being thrown from the blurrg time and again. You leaned your elbows on the fence, giggling a bit when he would jump at the charging animal. You thought he didn’t hear you but on maybe the fourth time you laughed at him his helmet turned and made…well not eye contact exactly, but you could tell he was staring pointedly.

You put your hands up in protest. “I’m sorry! But it’s a little funny.” You say through a laugh. He walked over to you. Oh, shit, did you overstep? “I don’t have time for this. Do you have a Landspeeder or a Speeder bike I could hire?” he says, annoyed. He’s standing face to face with you now, only the bar of the fence between you. You realize just how tall he is. He looks down at you and tilts his helmet to the side, you realize you hadn’t answered him yet.

“No. We don’t, sorry. Come on now, you’re a Mandalorian! Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. I’m sure you can handle this foal.”

It was only after saying that up to the dark visor of the helmet that you realized how in awe you sounded.

I mean why shouldn’t you be? All those stories when you were a kid? How could you not feel…just a bit like you were meeting a fairytale hero…Oh shut up, you thought to yourself, don’t go all soft for the guy who’s gonna kill you in a few hours.

Go on babe, read the next chapter.

#mando x y/n #mando x reader #din djarin #din and grogu #din the dad #mando the himbo #space himbo #the mandolarian #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din x reader #the mandolorian s2

[adidegmez]

now mandalorian s1 and s2 spoilers

I've always seen about mandalorian before i started watching star wars. Then i started watching mandalorian, i didnt think i would like it. But i really loved it. Mando is so cool his voice, his stance, his armor they are all perfect. Mando is perfect. He is honorable, kind, funny and his relationship with grogu is cute.

I was taking notes while watching the episodes, now I will write down these notes and my thoughts after the seasons.

Kuiil was nice i liked him. And i knew he was going to die when the mandalorian first said goodbye and left. And mando showed his respect to him in the end.

s1 ep6 anakinnnn it was nice to see him.

i didnt trust IG-11 either but he saved grogu and the others.he was cool.(i wrote down this note and then after 5 minutes he died)

Luke i didnt see that coming and r2.I love them scenes were great.

i love cara dune. She is cool. she is a good person.

Fennec and Boba they were cool.

Peli is so funny

Edit: I didn't write about Ahsoka. She is Ahsoka yes, i liked the actress(and i know and love her from daredevil) but something is not quite right and i don't know what.

well I have one last question, why didn't she said she was no jedi. She is not a jedi anymore but she didn't say anything about it.

thanks for reading, i have spoken. :)

[intricatecakes]

I just wanted to tell you how much I ADORE the way you draw Din !! The hair is just perfection (I could stare at it for hours, it's stil witchcraft to me) and the likeness to Pedro is just the cherry on top 🥺

🥺🥺🥺 tysm that is so sweet!!!

#asks #going 2 cry on this fine sunday afternoon #u are too nice #i can never get his hair right on the first sketch #by the time i get to lineart im on a new sketch layer adjusting his hairline again #i refuse to stick to the canon haircut from the finale okay #let din have his soft curls and also his beard and mustache #kuiil voice: i have spoken #xxlumos

[esthcim]

Part of me wants to one day draw/paint adult Hope in something akin to Light’s saviour outfit from LR just because of the sheer lack of AU’s there, but let’s be real right now: he couldn’t hack it on the job:

No interest in pitching errant Moogle’s skyward.

No acting skills what-so-ever, even in a fine purple suit on a gold statue.

Would want to explore the desert ruins over helping Fang topple religion.

Alexander would make a heckin’ big chonky Chocobo. And most of all...

Ain’t no back pocket on that feathered skirt for a boomerang.

#Where does the boomerang go? (Crack) #Kuiil voice: I have spoken

[dindjarindiaries]

moment of silence for our favorite ugnaught and vapor farmer,,

Kuiil 😔 *salute emoji*

#i always hear his name in din’s voice #kuiil #the mandalorian #you have spoken

[djarinsbeskar]

gif credit: @di-n​ for this beauty 

EXPLORATION ARC: PART 1 - NEXT TIME

A/N: And so friends, we begin our rapid descent into filth. I have to admit, whenever I write anything remotely sexual, especially in a fic for the first time, I get so flustered worrying that people will think it’s too crude or too much. But then I remembered that this is exactly why y’all are here and I felt much better about throwing away any inhibitions and embracing the filth. 

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Injury detail, injury treatment, language, masturbation (male and female).

Summary: It’s mighty hard to distract yourself from your mysterious and alluring shipmate, so why bother?

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

What do we do now?

Three months later… and you still hadn’t received an answer.

After the mess on Mynock, the devastation at the loss of both Biran and Kuiil and the mystery that still surrounded the child, you had been drained, physically and emotionally.

So, after your question had received nothing but silence in answer and being too tired to demand one, you had holed yourself away in one of the only private areas of the Razor Crest, a storage area adjacent to the cockpit. Half of it was taken up by the slabs of carbonite the Mandalorian kept his quarries in, but there was space enough to sit and try to work through the slew of emotions you had been bombarded with in only twenty-four hours.

You had scoffed, resting your head back against the unforgiving metal of ships interior; twenty-four hours ago, you had been lamenting the loss of adventure, of some sort of elusive fulfilment. Once again, caught up in thinking the grass is greener on the other island… It was a flaw you were beginning to recognize in yourself and you weren’t happy about it.

An incessant longing for an unknown goal.

You wanted to make a difference when you were stuck on Pamarthe, so you joined the Rebellion and it had given you a purpose.

After the Empire fell, and your skills as a combat medic became obsolete, you chased that same desire for purpose back to the Outer Rim in the hopes that altruistic work in a voluntary clinic would somehow satisfy that longing.

Then the New Republic pulled back the curtain and shown that in essence, things had not really changed, that you had somehow wasted years achieving something that suddenly felt hollow. And it was unfair. Unfair because you knew it wasn’t hollow, you knew the galaxy was in a better place than it was before you joined the Rebellion and yet you felt your life was lacking once more.

Biran had soothed the jagged edges of a life that hadn’t been able to fit in any one particular place and – for a time – you had been content with working in his practice. Until the moment you weren’t. When the gaping maw of dissatisfaction crept back into the corner of your eyes, making you agitated and wishing for more once again.

You seemed to have gotten your wish the day the Mandalorian had entered your life and brought with him an unyielding ability to take life by the jaws and roar right back at it. He seemed to create his own purpose, the child a testament to that, and even if you had no way of knowing the innermost workings of his mind, you were fascinated by it, by him.

You spent so long seeking a purpose when you should have been creating one of your own instead.

It was a sobering realization as you sat alone beside the generator room on the cold metal of the Razor Crest’s storage room, nothing to show for that wasted time but a bloody arm and a dead friend.

The tears came then, for Biran, for yourself, for the child, even for Mando. You had buried your face in your arms and allowed yourself to grieve.

You had no idea what to do. 

A little less than two days after your hasty escape from Dandoran, you entered the cockpit again sheepishly.

If you hadn’t heard the Mandalorian moving around the ship, climbing the ladder down to the hold or the hiss of the refreshers hydraulic door opening and closing, you would have thought he hadn’t moved an inch since you were last there.

You had had a severe talking to yourself over the last day and had laid to rest a portion of the self-loathing you had been wallowing in, realizing it wouldn’t do you any good to stay fixated on things you could no longer change. It had given you a measure of peace. Self-awareness was not always a flattering reflection, but with it, you were able to see what needed to be worked on.

The slightest incline of his helmet to the right was the only indication he gave you that he was aware of your presence, the child cooing happily from the seat beside him when he saw you.

You had taken the same seat as before, letting the child clamor up onto your lap to make room for you both. Silence still reigned and you were suddenly so aware of how much you relied on external white noise during your last meetings with him; the murmur of a bustling crowd, Biran’s jokes or simply your attention being focused on an injury. Without such distractions, the Mandalorian’s silence was deafening.

You knew he didn’t converse easily, that much was obvious from his abrupt statements and cantankerous nature whenever you saw him. But you had never felt the lack of cues – physical or verbal – until you sat in his ship with him alone. It felt like you were being asked to treat a patient when you could neither see where they were hurt or listen to their reaction; their breathing or any pain they might be in. You were adrift in this ship and for the first time since you saw him braced against that alley wall on Klatooine, you felt a jolt of nervousness race up your spine.

“How’s your arm?”

The question was spoken quietly but still felt too harsh on your ears. Maybe you were just feeling overly sensitive, you couldn’t tell at this point. All you knew was that the sound of his voice was jarring when only moments before you felt as though the silence was drowning you.

“It’s fine.” You muttered after a moment, “It wasn’t deep.”

“You know I would have---” he started before he cut himself off, the frustration evident in the huff he exhaled afterwards. No, Mando was definitely unaccustomed to speaking with you when the bickering and banter that provided you both with a safe wall to hide behind was stripped away.

But you knew what he was trying to say; I would have taken care of it.

Your chest filled with a soft warmth at the thought. But you didn’t mention it. Instinct told you that he would get defensive or spooked, like one of the regal crested stags native to Pamarthe. Massive and intimidating but would bolt at a loud noise or sudden movement. You felt that if you acknowledged the emotion, the tentative willingness he had tried to express to dress a wound for you, he would immediately throw up more walls, more barricades around himself.

You appreciated the sentiment none the less.

He seemed to appreciate the fact that you didn’t bring it up too, because a few silent minutes later, he spoke again.

“I don’t need to tell you that Mynock isn’t safe for you anymore.”

You looked up from where you had started playing with the child on your lap, simply passing his small metal ball to him before he handed it back to you. He seemed to take immense joy out of the game, delighted to show you his toy but equally excited to have it back in his hands in the next moment.

Mando kept his face forward as he spoke, so all you could see of him was the breadth of his shoulders where he had crossed his arms across his chest and the back of his helmet as it leaned back against the headrest of his chair.

“…But I’ll take you to whatever planet you want.”

“Oh.” Was your pitiful excuse for an answer. Pitiful, because you were slightly embarrassed that amidst your self-reflection, you hadn’t once considered your next move. You frowned. You always had a plan, but now? You had no idea where to go.

You mulled over your next words carefully.

“Can I think about it? I have to… figure out where would be best.” You continued when he offered nothing in response. It was true; you had no credits, no clothes, you didn’t even have a toothbrush you realized grimly. You had to be smart about where you went next if you were going to survive.

You ran through the list of friends and contacts you still had from the Rebellion, pilots and other medics who would no doubt help you in a pinch without question. You could go home, the clans on Pamarthe were loyal to a fault but your mind immediately shut that idea down as a wave of nausea washed over you, a combination of homesickness and fear making you feel slightly ill. No, you hadn’t been home since before the Rebellion, and you weren’t about to break that streak now.

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts, that you didn’t notice Mando’s quick glance at you over his shoulder. He had never seen you look less put together. Hair a disaster, clothes bloodstained from your arm and slightly sooty from the fires. Your face was clean, and so were your hands so you had obviously washed up at some point. You were a mess, honestly. But he was relieved to see the same fire that lit your eyes remained if a little subdued, the underlying steel of intelligence that glinted like beskar was still there. He knew you had seen worse than what happened on Mynock, knew you were tougher than to let it break you, but his own guilt over sending the child to you aggravated his worry that you might be… altered, changed, different because of what he did.

Obviously, his worry was misplaced.

He might wear beskar armor, but you were the one who had a spine of it.

“Let me know when you figure it out.”

He spoke slowly, as if perhaps, he shouldn’t say those words. Their ambiguity was dangerous, leaving a back door to interpretation, but your appreciative smile he caught in the reflection of the wraparound transparisteel of the Razor Crests’ observation viewport made him forget momentarily why ambiguity was such a bad thing in the first place.

 That was months ago.

Somehow, neither of you mentioned your destination again. You never told him where you wanted to go, and he never asked if you had decided.

The fact was almost dangerously acknowledged when Mando landed the Razor Crest to refuel a week later, when he had made the offhanded remark that you needed clothes and whatever else you might need as you travelled because, as he put it, “a man shouldn’t’ be told he can’t access half of his ship just because you’re waiting for your clothes to dry” and handed you a pouch of credits as he pushed by you gently to get to the entrance of the ship.

He could have asked you then where you planned to go, it was the perfect segue into that conversation, but after a tense moment when he stood at the top of the open ramp on his way to find work to tie them over until he started taking Guild jobs again, he straightened his shoulders and simply nodded to the child,

“Take care of the kid while I’m gone.”

That change in topic seemed to put the idea of you leaving to bed and you never brought it up again.

Not when you returned with several sets of clothes, feminine products, medical supplies, and foodstuffs for the ship on Ryloth.

Not when he brought back a thin sleep mat on Lothal with only a grunt in response to the thanks you had offered him after he had noticed you rubbing out a kink in your shoulder the day before.

Not when ‘I won’t be long’ replaced the stiff order of ‘take care of the kid’ thrown over his shoulder whenever he left you both alone, taking the time now to stroke the child’s long ear as you held him in your arms, feeling his eyes on you as he spoke.

No… the two of you had fallen into a delicate, if slightly hesitant routine; one that didn’t involve you leaving the Mandalorian or his child.

Next time, it appeared, did not end in goodbye.

Adjusting to life on a ship again had been both easy and difficult.

Having spent a portion of your life sleeping in hard, cramped spaces with a number of other rebels, living on the Razor Crest was not as difficult as one might think. It wasn’t idea, Maker no. But there was running water (even if it was constantly recycled), something of a galley (kitchen was too generous a term, but there was a single nanowave ring and small cooling chamber) and somewhere soft to rest your head at night (even if your pillow was just a bunched-up blanket).

The areas you struggled with predominantly, could be summed up in two words: boredom and privacy.

You were used to spending twelve hours or more a day on your feet treating patients. Complacency and downtime were not in your repertoire, and while you can admit that you took advantage of the rest for the first week or two, you soon found yourself getting agitated and itching to do something.

The child proved to be an excellent distraction when he wasn’t holed away in the cockpit with the Mandalorian. While he was a darling little bogwing who fussed extraordinarily little, he needed constant vigilance. You learned very quickly that those doe-eyes hid a proclivity for mischief you had only glimpsed at back in Mynock. If you didn’t keep one eye on him at all times, you would lose sight of him only to find him in the cooling chamber looking for food or Maker forbid, in the weapons chamber.

Apart from keeping up with the child, you had taken to cataloguing the medical knowledge you had swimming in your mind on an empty datapad you had found in the storage area by the galley one day. You lamented the loss of the stacks of datapads you had collected over the years to further your knowledge and keep up to date with the latest medical advances, so you took it upon yourself to organize a one-stop-shop for all the information you had accumulated. It was antiquated given the knowledge was already in your head, but it filled the time, nonetheless.

Regarding privacy however, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any.

You had flatly refused to take Mando’s bunk when he had thrown the offer to you soon after Ryloth, and instead took it upon yourself to reorganize the holds setup. The small alcove by the galley that kept excess inventory of food, ammunition, blankets, and medical supplies was relocated to the storage area outside the generator room on the same level of the cockpit. The generators themselves had been too noisy to sleep beside so, despite being a larger area, you had settled the sleep mat down in the now empty alcove across from where the crates Mando used as a table and chairs was set. You didn’t need a whole lot of space while you slept, so it suited you fine. You had spent years sleeping on ships so a somewhat soft mat – however thin – was all you needed to get a good night sleep.

Rather, it was your feeling of invading the Mandalorian’s privacy that you struggled with. Your unwitting shipmate was a large, somewhat stifling presence in the beginning, and you felt an illogical imposition on his life before growing more accustomed to living with him after several weeks. 

 It was as you got used to him though, that your troubles began.

After six weeks of travelling on the Razor Crest, you had learned several things about the Mandalorian.

One, that despite the ship being as small as it was with three – read; two plus a pint-sized gremlin – people living in it, Mando could be elusive and you could easily go days without seeing him and even longer without hearing him speak. Whatever progress you had made previously during your encounters in getting him to talk only seemed to apply in small doses. You found yourself growing used to silence and adjusting to speaking softly without realizing it, your normal speaking voice sounding too loud even to your own ears.

Two, for all you did see of him, you had never once seen him without every stitch of armor on him. Beskar wasn’t light and you knew he had to remove it sometimes to shower and sleep and eat, but you never heard even a whisper of metal clattering as he took it off or put it back on. The only thing you ever heard that would suggest he ever took his armor off, was the sound of the water in the refresher as it ran down his body. Mando only showered when he was certain you and the kid were both asleep, a habit you had picked up on only when the sound of the spray pulled you from unconsciousness for the fifth night in a row. The simple sound of the water and the occasional splash as he rinsed his hair – if he had hair – or body clean of soap immediately pushed tiredness and any hope of sleep away, which led you to fact number three.

That your attraction to the Mandalorian was growing, rather than dissipating, the longer you were around him. Whatever attraction you had entertained on Mynock over the years was magnified when you were forced to live in such close proximity to the man each and every day. Perhaps it was because you didn’t have as much to focus your attentions on, but you suddenly felt hyperaware of his every movement whenever he was in your presence and each of those movements seemed more enticing than the last.

There was the time he was cleaning his blasters.

Mando had just entered hyperspace after finishing up a job on Sriluur and after a grumbled, “No, I did not see a Raquor’daan” after your tongue-in-cheek question upon his return, he returned to the hold after putting the ship on autopilot.

Unexpectedly, he pulled one of the durasteel crates out from beside the makeshift table instead of remaining in the cockpit, the sound of the crate dragging across the metal flooring making both you and the child startle while he took a heavy seat down and pulled out the blaster at his hip. Another two followed as he lay them out almost reverently on the table.

Given that his adopted father was staying down in the hold, the child very quickly lost interest in playing with you and his metal ball. He whined at you insistently until you placed him in the crab carapace that sat on the same table in front of the Mandalorian before taking your seat again to focus on the compilation of medication doses per age, race, and pre-existing condition on your datapad to keep yourself occupied.

“No.”

You were amused when Mando’s filtered voice stopped the kid from touching the blaster without the warrior even having to look up from where he was using a small pipe brush to clean out the barrel of the first blaster. The little bogwing only watched him as he slowly tried to take a small, but no doubt important part of the blaster that sat on the table closest to his small frame, waiting to be cleaned.

After a few moments of this back and forth between father and son, you recognized when the Mandalorian was beginning to lose patience. The clipped edge of his voice that usually took a lot longer to show itself whenever he spoke to the child. The deliberate turn of his helmet to look at him as he spoke. All tiny, insignificant things you were becoming aware of despite yourself.

“Okay buddy. Let’s play over here instead.” You reached across the table and picked him up before Mando reached his limit and sat back down with the child on your lap, a safe distance from the blasters and the child’s wandering claws. Mando didn’t say anything, his movements never faltering as he lifted the barrel up to the front of his T-visor, inspecting its interior for a few measured moments before he set it down and picked up the next piece, satisfied.

While the little bogwing was most certainly not impressed to have been removed from Mando’s side, you had discovered a secret weapon early on that you could pull out whenever the child became fussy. It was truly a lifesaver of a thing; one you thanked the Maker for every time it stopped a tantrum or soothed away a fear.

You simply pulled your hair over your shoulder and waited for the tell-tale widening of the child’s eyes before his clawed hand wrapped around a bunch of the strands. He was content to hold it, pull it occasionally and enjoy its’ texture and color. You flattered yourself that it was comforting to the child, but you knew nothing comforted him more than the cool steel of beskar under his cheek whenever Mando held him.

At the thought, your eyes shifted to the man in question, oil rag in hand as he gently ran it over each part of the disassembled blaster, slow in the drag down the exterior of the barrel and examining it regularly before continuing.

It was the first time your breath had caught looking at him.

The way he completed each task so meticulously made you feel like you were witnessing a ritual; there was something innately private and intimate about how the warrior took care of his weapons. Should you look away? Perhaps… but after a few monotonous weeks, your eyes drank in the sight, taking in far more than you would usually be aware of in such a mundane act. The dexterity of his gloved fingers as they ran over each part of the weapon, they way they expertly shifted to disassemble the other two blasters laid out on the table, as if with a simple touch, the steel fell apart to obey his wishes.

It was the first time you felt an image of him, a fantasy, brush against your mind.

A fleeting image of those same fingers running down your spine slowly, deliberate, and certain in their path. As experienced with handling a woman as he was when he handled a weapon. The brush of his knuckles down your sternum, along your cheek. The strength of his grip behind your neck or holding your hips down.

You startled, yelping as the child giggled when he yanked your hair after your momentary lapse in concentration.

The visor shifted slightly to look at you and you hoped the guilty look on your face didn’t tell him everything you had just imagined before he pointed at the child,

“Mind your manners, kid.” He rasped before turning back to his work.

The child cooed in delight, thinking all of this was a truly wonderful sport and pulled your hair again. You laughed at his antics, slightly embarrassed as your yelp had been drawn out in surprise as opposed to pain. You didn’t think the child was even capable of inflicting pain; even at his most excited, he never pulled your hair hard and it softened your heart to him further.

The Mandalorian only sighed in your peripheral, pushing himself to his feet and making his way around the table. Those fingers you had been thinking about not two minutes earlier gently untangled the child’s claws from your hair and picked him up into his arms to settle him down.

“You’re too young to be pulling girls hair yet, ad’ika.” You heard him chide in that low baritone as he moved further into the hold towards the child’s hover-pram. It took every ounce of self-control not to let your jaw hit the ground. You barely succeeded.

Unfortunately, you didn’t succeed in stopping your thighs from shifting, subconsciously rubbing them together to relieve the uncomfortably need that settled there, quickly escaping to your mat under the pretense of needing to untangle your hair from the child’s ministrations. 

 Then there were the numerous times you had to get by each other, to get down the ladder to the hold, or to leave the ship, or even just to get into the cockpit. Anywhere that involved you both being in the same space at the same time resulted in the Mandalorian brushing against you accidentally as you crossed paths. Like you said before, Mando was large, and the Razor Crest was not.

One fateful encounter had yet to leave your mind.

You had been frantically looking for the child for nearly half an hour after breaking your second cardinal rule:

 Do not take your eyes off the child.

Well, you did. And you were – once again – contemplating the pros and cons of throwing yourself into a sarlacc pit over facing the wrath of the Mandalorian if you didn’t find the sneaky little bogwing he called a son.

You linked your hands behind your neck as you released a long breath to try and calm your rapidly increasing panic. He wasn’t in his hover-pram (though his metal ball was there so surely, he couldn’t have gone far?), he wasn’t in the crab carapace (it sat cold and empty apart from the few errant credits Mando had tossed into it the day before). He wasn’t in the refresher and he wasn’t in the cooling chamber. He wasn’t hiding under the blanket you used for a pillow and he wasn’t playing in the carbonite chamber. You had even taken a panel or two from the side of the ship to see if he had gotten into the electricals, but they too were missing a little green terror.

“He can’t have gone far…” you whispered to yourself, your eyes scanning every single area of the hold carefully, looking for any movement or flash of green that might tell you where your charge had escaped to.

Your eyes landed on the rarely open hydraulic pocket door beside the refresher at the front of the ship, to the bunk where you knew the Mandalorian slept whenever he got the chance to.

What were the odds that things would work out in your favor, that the child wouldn’t be in Mando’s private quarters? That you could quietly continue your search elsewhere on the ship because underneath it all, the child knew there was nothing interesting in there?

The odds? Fucking zero.

Closing your eyes as you dropped your head back on your shoulders, you dragged your hands over your face,

“Why me?” you groaned into your hands, feeling infinitely sorry for yourself before you dropped your hands and stared at the open hydraulic durasteel door in distrust, as if it were going to alert Mando of your trespassing for even pondering the idea.

It’s just a room. The lovely, logical part of your brain said, soothing your nerves before the treacherous, licentious part finished the sentence:

It’s just a room where the Mandalorian sleeps…

It’s just a room where the Mandalorian removes his armor…

It’s just a room where the Mandalorian---

You curtailed the rapid descent your thoughts were plummeting towards and took three confident steps towards the room to prove to yourself that you were unfazed. You faltered on step four, but as your foot landed on the metal flooring, you were practically in front of the room already. So, you glanced in with a slight arch of your neck, leaning to the right.

This was the only place on the Razor Crest you hadn’t seen fully. Mando never locked it, but you tried to respect what privacy he did have by avoiding it. You understood that everyone had their space; a single area that was theirs to completely unwind in, even momentarily. You understood the significance of a place like that and invading Mando’s made you feel guilty.

The room itself was clinical in its simplicity. Your eyes roved over the bunk to see if the child was there. You took another step in so you could lean down to see if he was down the side of the bunk, where several metal shelves sat empty apart from a single blaster and a piece of durasteel armor that looked suspiciously like Mando’s old vambrace. He must put his armor there whenever he takes it off. You couldn’t think of another reason for there to be so much wasted space in the room otherwise.

“Psst, kid. Are you in here?” You hissed, not wanting to tempt fate and draw the Mandalorian’s attention if he heard you.

As it happened, the odds that you had put at zero for yourself might as well have been negative infinity, because the response you received was a filtered throat being cleared that had you spinning in place to see Mando watching you with his head tilted and a thumb hoked in his utility belt as he leaned against the wall casually.

And there was the child – proud as the tooka who caught the titterling – sitting in one strong arm, watching you with curious eyes as you stood back up, heat rising to your face as you floundered.

“I---”

“Found him.”

Mando saved you from what was no doubt going to be a terribly awkward attempt at an explanation as to why you were snooping in his bunk, so you merely offered him a sheepish smile when he didn’t question you. You held out your hands when the green monster stretched his own short arms out to you.

Mando pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to hand the child over and his body ate up the space around you.

It was surreal and slightly unnerving, the way his body seemed to dwarf any space he walked into, particularly this small area in front of his bunk. The breadth of his shoulders blocked the light behind him, and you were ensnared by the faint memory of their strength from realigning his arm after the Houk Incident. You mind was suddenly barraged with sinful images of anchoring your nails into those shoulders, or the sight of your thighs thrown over them as he---

“Can’t take your eyes off him for even a minute.” You laughed to cover your runaway thoughts, honestly you needed to get laid the next planet you landed on, fingers stroking absentmindedly over a large ear while the unpainted helmet stayed trained on you before nodding slowly.

“He gets into more trouble than you do.” He rumbled, the faint lilt of a tease making you instantly narrow your eyes, secretly thankful for the more familiar territory.

“That’s rich, coming from the guy who ended up wanted by not only the New Republic, but the Empire and Bounty Hunters Guild as well.”

He scoffed as he rolled his shoulders back and crossed his arms, a clear rebuttal he decided didn’t warrant a verbal response, but it made you smile slyly in response, eager to keep the upper hand as you moved to get by him.

“You’re quite impressive, you know?” You purred as you passed him, the warrior not conceding an inch of space to let you get by him more easily, his body remaining an impassive mountain in front of you.

“Yeah?” His voice – husky even when filtered – dripped with a curiosity he tried to mask with arrogance as he tipped his head back to look down at you from his greater height while your front brushed against his lightly. You could practically hear the smirk behind his helmet in that one word.

You smiled sweetly at him and – for the first time – touched him for reasons other than medical as your patted the beskar on his chest twice,

“Mhm…��� you hummed slowly, squeezing past him finally even as he turned slightly to keep his eyes on you, eyes that were scorching your body despite your inability to see them,

“You single-handedly united the galaxy in getting all three of them to agree that you’re a menace.”

Your saccharine smile grew at the indignant noise that left the warrior in response, the sound so boorish and organic coming from a man who could at times seem as emotionless as the droids he despised. It was a human sound, and your heart thrilled at it, the sensation settling between your legs as you wondered what other human sounds the Mandalorian could produce as you escaped back up the ladder to the cockpit before he could respond. It stroked a primal part of your ego to have been the one to draw out a sound, even one of derision, from him.

You thought about that sound for longer than you cared to admit, one of the few others you had added to the growing catalogue of memories you had accumulated over your short time on the Razor Crest. Each memory was capable of tormenting you to the point of arousal while you stubbornly refused to give in to your body’s need for release over thoughts of him.

You might have broken your second cardinal rule of ‘do not take your eyes off the child’ but you were steadfast in sticking to your first cardinal rule:

Do not cross that line with the Mandalorian. 

 You might have been able to abide by that rule if all you had to worry about was the limited content you had to fantasize about. The way he moved, his voice, those glimpses of the human underneath the metal when he spoke in that growling language whenever he was frustrated, or the occasional groan from a stiff neck after too long in the pilot’s chair. The faint memory of the tanned skin you had seen when treating that poisoned stab wound over three years ago. You could deal with all of those. They were ambiguous and vague.

Vague enough that when you did succumb to your own please and give yourself the release you craved night after night while biting your lip to contain even the smallest sounds escaping, you could fool yourself into thinking that it was any nameless, faceless man and not the Mandalorian you travelled with.

That changed the day you were exposed to the sheer strength and power of the Mandalorian first-hand as he wrestled a quarry into the ship after a hunt. The base, primordial desire for physical strength used for the purpose of provision and protection was stoked inside of you.

Mando had shown up with a live quarry, a Trandoshan who – once on the ship – had made one last desperate effort to escape, using the Mandalorian’s distraction as you came out of the refresher to break the binders with the brutal strength Trandoshan’s were known for and lunge right at you. Whether it was to kill you or to use you as leverage for Mando to release him, you never found out.

You had managed one startled step back before the Trandoshan was tackled to the ground in front of you. Mando’s size belied his speed and he quickly had a knee pressed into the quarry’s back, a hand pressing down on the Trandoshan’s neck to keep him in place while he used his free hand to try and restrain him once again.

The image of Mando’s body, humming from the thrill of a fight and the testosterone that rolled off of him because of it, seared itself into your mind. How the quarry could hardly move under the strength of his knee pressed down on his back. How – even under all that armor – you could practically see his muscles ripple and strain taut as he kept the quarry subdued enough to attach a new set of binders.

It was primal.

And it was your undoing.

As you let your fingers roam down beneath your sleep shorts that night to find yourself already soaked, you didn’t even try to stop the memory of Mando man-handling the quarry from filling your thoughts. You didn’t stop the memory from morphing into something else as you imagined yourself underneath him instead. Imagined the Mandalorian using that strength on you for an entirely different reason as you easily sunk two fingers inside your twitching cunt, desperate to be filled by something more than what you could give yourself.

You imagined his hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you down, to keep you submissive and could almost hear his voice growling in your ear while you desperately tried to replace the sensation of your own fingers inside you with his. Your other hand traced down your overheated body to circle your clit lightly. Your hips bucked, your body already strung too tight as a whimper slipped past your lips as you imagined he would no doubt leave you wanting more, removing his fingers to replace them with the blunt head of his cock. Just the thought of him pushing into you was enough to send you over the edge, biting down on your lip hard enough that you tasted a tang of copper from where your teeth broke the skin while your orgasm washed over you. You were left panting in the pitch-black hold of the Razor Crest wondering how long you could handle your attraction to the Mandalorian before it drove you crazy. 

 But it wasn’t until a month later, three months since Mynock, when Mando’s penchant for colorful injuries proved to be the straw that broke the bantha’s back.

You had landed on Scipio a week ago.

The frigid atmosphere of the planet was only made worse by the fact that the majority of structures in its capital city sat at a high altitude to escape the snowstorms that could leave entire ships buried in a matter of hours.

It was the first Guild job the Mandalorian had taken in a long time, but it offered a good bounty. From the short answers you had managed to pry from the stoic warrior as you entered Scipio’s atmosphere, he was a money launderer. A disgraced member of the Banking Clan back in the day before he found spice and flesh trafficking to be a more lucrative venture.

The guy was a genius when it came to cleaning dirty credits, funneling them into dummy accounts and businesses, directly influencing the rise in power of several top tier warlords of the fallen Empire. You had thought to question why it was so easy for former Imperials and their supporters to gain power but then you answered your own question. Credits. Credits could buy you anything; buy your survival, buy loyalty, and even buy freedom.

The Mandalorian didn’t seem too concerned about the quarry himself, rather the security detail he might have around him. This type of guy would rather pay someone to die for them instead of picking up a blaster themselves.

The spaceport where you landed doubled as a motel, equipped to stand the sub-zero temperatures and for people like yourself and the child, who would usually remain on the ship, provided somewhere safe to sleep for the duration of your stay. Mando had been frustrating as he explained again about keeping an eye open while in the motel, to double check the locks and not to let the child out of your sight.

It had ended with you snapping at him that you weren’t stupid, weeks of frustration catching up on you.

You had effectively shut him up though, and after a few tense moments he reached out to stroke the tip of the child’s ear gently,

“I won’t be long.” His voice was measured in its control to bite his tongue on a sharp retort, so you only nodded once in confirmation.

You regretted your short temper the moment you had snapped at him. You knew he kept his worry over the child to himself but sometimes he tended to hover, particularly when you weren’t on the Razor Crest. But having once again woken that morning to slippery thighs and the lingering image of a blurred silhouette scraping his teeth down your neck, you were feeling a bit high-strung.

So you had lashed out in your irritation, and a week after he left, you still felt bad about it.

The motel itself surrounded the spaceport. For the first day you had distracted the child and yourself by sitting at the window and pointing out the different ships that landed and took off, the high vantage point of the rooms allowing you to see a good portion of the entire port.

You told the child what each ship was (those that you knew, anyway) and told him which was fastest and what each one was used for and even the ones you knew how to fly (even if that list was miserably short for someone from Pamarthe). You still had your suspicions that the child could understand everything you said to him and so spoke to him as if he did. It did no harm and he seemed to enjoy the attention, babbling on your lap, and pressing his forehead to the window.

The ships had been a distraction for all of a day. Neither of you had warm enough clothing to tackle exploring the outdoors so your exploration was limited to the corridors of the motel and the extended sheltered area of the spaceport. The freezing chill still managed to permeate the vast port and you soon found yourselves back in the room for the next few days.

When the commlink Mando had given you crackled on your wrist, you nearly wept with happiness that you might soon be getting off this planet. You would take a week in hyperspace over the prison you felt you had been in within the four walls of the motel room. There were only so many conditions, symptoms, and treatments you could document on your datapad before you started losing the will to live.

“We take off in twenty.”

The commlink warped the unmistakable voice of the Mandalorian, probably due to the raging storm outside affecting the connection but you didn’t care. You guys were leaving, and you wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of Scipio.

Packing up the few items you had brought with you for the child, you placed him back in his hover-pram and closed it around him to protect him from the cold. Pressing another button on the commlink, it began following you as you started making your way down to where the Razor Crest was docked. The few moments you had to spend in the freezing blizzard to get onto the ship felt like a life age, the snow and wind biting into your skin beneath your clothing and almost burning with how cold it felt.

You turned towards the open ramp of the Razor Crest, desperately wanting to close it but you knew the Mandalorian had been out in that weather far longer than you had, and the quicker he got in, the better.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long as a few minutes later, the hazy blur in the blizzard sharpened to reveal the beskar clad warrior with a limp figure over his shoulder. Your eyes raked over him, narrowing at the slightly tremble in his left leg as he threw down the prone body none too gently on the floor of the hold. He reached to his right to press one of the manual controls to lift the ramp and finally shield you all from the snow before he reached down to grab the human man by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the carbonite chamber.

He hadn’t said a word to you but then again, that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He preferred silence and you were used to it.

Instead, you took a few liberties and climbed up to the cockpit to initiate take off procedures. The Crest was old, bless her, but after a moment or two you managed to get her up in the air and out of atmosphere. Once you were able, you activated the autopilot. You were still at cruising altitude and would only be able to enter hyperspace once you were a suitable distance away from the planet.

Mando hadn’t come up when you had taken off and you noticed his absence. It wasn’t like him to remain down below so, with a moment’s hesitation, you returned back down the ladder to find him sitting on one of the large crates with his head back against the wall.

Your eyes immediately focused, mind sharpening as you assessed him from a few feet away. Breathing was normal if a bit heavy, nothing bent at a wrong angle or limbs missing.

You let your eyes drop to the leg you saw tremble slightly. The flight suit Mando wore under his armor, especially the bottoms, were soaked through so you couldn’t tell if the darkened stains on his thigh were melted snow or blood.

“No.”

Your eyes snapped up to his helmet which had turned slightly once you caught his attention.

“No?” You questioned, a frown settling over your eyes as he sat up with a grunt.

“I don’t need you patching up ever scratch and bruise.” He snapped.

Oh, he was cranky. That meant he was in pain.

It was true that Mando had flatly refused any help if he ever came back bruised and sore and for the most part, he probably didn’t need any medical attention. Half the time you didn’t even know because he simply dealt with it himself wordlessly. He had lived this life long enough without you, he knew how to handle himself. Most of the time. Your trained eyes were able to spot a mile away what he could deal with himself and what needed more practiced hands. If he was acting like a cantankerous reek again, then you knew it was time to step in.

You scoffed and took the few steps towards him, completely professional as you dropped to your knees in front of him. You didn’t miss the strangled noise the modulator picked up from behind the helmet, but you didn’t have time to worry about how you might look kneeling in front of his open legs.

All you were focused on, was the shredded duraweave near his knee, dried blood crusting along the flesh of his inner thigh just shy of the beskar plate sitting over his left thigh. You clicked your tongue and sent him a withering look,

“Seriously?”

A growl reverberated from his chest, a string of that foreign language leaving him before he looked away. He looked petulant.

“In Basic if you don’t mind.” You asked sarcastically, eyes already back on the wound underneath the torn duraweave. Your fingers picked a shredded edge of the duraweave to get a better look. You were reminded instantly of the wound he received from the poison laced dagger with you first met him, but you were relieved to note that this wound seemed clean of venom.

That was about all that was clean about it though, because unlike the single laceration of the dagger wound, his thigh had a semi-circle of shredded puncture wounds where something had obviously sunk into his flesh and shook its head.

“Fucking nerfherders, what bit you?” You turned your eyes back up to him, startled by the size given that the single row indicated only one side of the jaw met his flesh. You worried momentarily if the back of his thigh carried similar wounds where whatever it was bit down but you would deal with this first.

“Whitefang.” He bit out, the frustration in his tone evident but you had grown accustomed to him acting like this whenever he was hurt.

You had gotten to your feet again, turning away to your small area where you could rifle through the medipack you had built for such occasions. You almost dropped the bacta and saline when you turned back to him.

“A whitefang? How in Malachor did you---”

“He didn’t only have mercenaries guarding him.” Mando spat, groaning when the anger in his voice caused his muscles to tense and the obvious pain that followed. You shook your head and knelt back down, sitting on your heels as you peeled back the shredded edges of the duraweave, stopping only when a gloved hand wrapped around your wrist in warning. Your eyes flickered up to the expressionless T-visor, a sigh leaving you as you looked back down.

“I’m only pushing it back as far as the wound goes. I won’t see any more of you than it takes to treat your bite.”

You tried a different approach to your usual Mando Method. Negotiation as opposed to strong-arming him. You didn’t try to remove your wrist from his grip, despite how tight it was but your patience seemed to work because with a steady exhale, his grip loosened and released you. You nodded once,

“There, that wasn’t so hard?”

Mando simply leaned his head back heavily and looked up towards the ceiling, his hands resting back on the crate behind him and leaving you to your work.

You turned back to his thigh now that the hard part was over, truly he was a menace when it came to looking after himself. You tutted to yourself while you cleaned the caked, dried blood from around the puncture wounds with clean gauze soaked in an antiseptic solution and assessed their depth as you did so. There were seven punctures in all, the two canine fangs being the largest and deepest, so you focused your attention on them first.

While the Mandalorian hadn’t said a word despite the sting the antiseptic no doubt caused, he let out a soft exhale when you cleaned them out with saline water to flush out any dirt that might have entered the open wounds. You bit down on your lip to hide the slight smile, he seemed to enjoy that part last time too. Now that you were sure he wasn’t in any immediate danger; you allowed your eyes to travel down the length of his body on their way back to his thigh.

You covered the hitch in your breath with a small cough when your eyes passed over the prominent bulge that was nearly at eye level; he was hard. Your mouth instantly went dry as you turned back to his thigh with a bit too much force, a heavy tension settling in the air that was making it hard to focus. 

So, you tried to lighten the mood when he sighed again softly at the cool liquid on his heated skin.

“Careful Mando, or else I’ll start to think you enjoy getting injured.”

You had quickly moved on to threading the dissolvable medical thread through a wicked sharp curved needle and began to layer tight, neat stitches inside the two deepest wounds, anything to distract your hands and eyes from straying somewhere they were wholly unwelcome.

The needle moved easily through his flesh, the thread laced with bacta, one of the greatest creations to come from the last five years of medical research which allowed the healing qualities in bacta to penetrate the body better, using the physical thread to hold the flesh together while it knitted everything back together quicker than the body would be able to by itself.

The Mandalorian hadn’t moved since you began, but you felt the telling warmth on the top of your head where his eyes had settled, watching you sit between his legs and once again, soothing his pain. You hadn’t expected an answer given his mood, so when he did reply, you nearly dropped the needle you were carefully putting away for cleaning later.

“In my line of work, you learn to like a little pain.” His voice sounded thicker, a dark undercurrent to the usual rasp and it made your cunt clench at the veiled insinuation. He must have known you could see, right? He hadn’t made any move to hide his obvious arousal, but then maybe he felt that to draw attention to it would be to acknowledge it.

You smoothed a large bactapad over the wounds, the smaller punctures not deep enough to warrant stiches and satisfied there were no other wounds on his thigh. You used the action to buy yourself some time as you ran your tongue over your bottom lip, desperately trying to get some moisture back as your mind ran wild with the possibilities that single sentence meant about the Mandalorian.

When you had done all you could do, you bit the bullet and looked up at him again. His head was tilted down, not hiding the fact that he was watching you as you worked, and you just knew your underwear was ruined from the image that lay before you. The Mandalorian leaning back with his legs spread and watching you like the hunter he was.

“I’m sure there are other ways you can enjoy that without getting you leg bitten off.” The words that left your mouth were smoother and said with a confidence that made you want to pat yourself on the back. You packed up the medipack and stood up, keeping your eyes on his visor so they wouldn’t be tempted to stray down to the bulge that had yet to disappear.

“No strenuous exercise until they’re healed.” You ordered, your tone allowing for no argument as you turned to put the medipack away, thankful that he couldn’t see the flush on your cheeks when you started moving towards the galley to prepare something to eat for the child and be away from this suddenly stifling situation.

Mando seemed content to remain where he was for a few moments longer before he stood to test his leg on his full weight. You staunchly kept your back to him under the guise of heating a ration pack on the nanowave stove, but you could feel him brush past you on his way to the cockpit.

“Pity.” He dropped the word on your lap without stalling his movements as he passed you, his voice still thick and laced with a sinful darkness before his presence vanished entirely up the ladder, albeit a bit slower and into the cockpit so he could get you all into hyperspace.

When you heard the tell-tale hiss of the cockpit door closing, you braced your hands on the edge of the galley counter, a shaky breath leaving you.

What the ever-loving fuck what that?

A few hours later, and you were in the refresher, the hiss of the shower the only security that your moans were smothered as your fingers played with your clit, expertly circling it before swiping over the sensitive bundles lightly. Your head fell back, the water soaking your heated skin and running down your body the same way you imagined his hands might, how his tongue might follow that same path.

Your eyes closed on a whimper as you slid a finger insider of yourself, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how easily it slid in, your arousal providing the perfect lubrication.

You still hadn’t been able to unwind from the tightly strung ball of tension the Mandalorian had left you in hours before and despite your better judgement, had locked yourself in the refresher seeking even an ounce of relief. You should have been ashamed, getting off to the memory of a man who – while being someone you already accepted your attraction to – was a patient in that moment.

It didn’t matter that he seemed just as aroused, that he stoked a desire deep inside you with his words. You didn’t even know his name and yet, the physical attraction you felt for a man whose body you had seen only slivers of, was unlike anything you’d felt for anyone you had been with before. He had you soaked with a few choice words, a tilt of his helmet and his legs spread arrogantly as if he hadn’t just been bitten by a whitefang.

You moaned quietly as you imagined yourself kneeling between those thighs again, but this time not to treat an injury but to satisfy a different sort of ache. You thought about the noises he might make if you took his cock into your mouth; if he would try to control your pace and how much of him you took. You added another finger as you wondered if he would finish in your mouth, or if he was someone who wanted to finish deep inside your cunt instead. If he would pull you up from your position between his legs so he could sink into you and fuck you until he finished.

You could feel your orgasm cresting, your fingers drenched with your arousal and a final forbidden fantasy of what he must look like when he came – what expression would paint the face you would never know as he spilled inside you – was what had your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You couldn’t muffle your cry at its intensity, nor could you control the moan spilling from your lips despite swearing you would never say it, never acknowledge outside your own mind that you wanted him.

But you couldn’t help yourself, and it changed everything.

“Mando…”

He was right the first time.

He should have fucking listened to his instincts when they told him you were dangerous on Klatooine.

He should have known when that lick of desire danced across his body the night he first met you.

He should have known when the blush he caused to rise on your cheeks made his chest swell with masculine pride.

He should have known when he hesitated every time he went to ask you what planet you wanted him to bring you to.

And he should have damn well known when he had to stop himself from fucking you the moment you knelt between his legs to treat his bite.

But he hadn’t listened and now he was stood frozen on his way to his bunk, the sound of his name laced with desire as it rolled off your tongue on the other side of the refresher’s door rooting him to the spot.

He felt himself get painfully hard under his armour again.

He had felt edged all day after trying – and failing – to calm himself down in the cockpit after you had finished with him. He recited his Creed in his head over and over until the memory of you looking up at him with those expressive, intelligent eyes had him hard again almost instantly.

Din felt his lips curl into a snarl at the sound of you moaning his name, at the torture you had unwittingly inflicted on him now that he knew what you sounded like in the throes of pleasure. It would be so easy, so easy to just pull the door open and give you a real reason to moan his name.

He clenched his hand to his side where it itched to open the door, it would be so easy…

He shook his head, trying to shake the insidious thoughts of giving in to the attraction that had skyrocketed since you began travelling with him.

A shift of his weight sent a twinge of pain through his thigh and that grounded him.

No, not tonight.

He continued on his path to his bunk before he had been interrupted, locking the hydraulic door behind him before he removed his helmet and ran a hand down his face.

Not tonight.

He removed each part of his armor, setting it down on the shelves beside the bunk, fingers ghosting over the bactapad that still clung to his thigh, the whispered memory of feeling your fingers on his bare skin again causing his cock to twitch beneath his flight suit before he removed that as well.

Not tonight.

He lay back heavily on his bunk, muscles and joints exhausted from the arduous week on an ice planet. He let his eyes roll closed when his hand wrapped around the hard shaft of his cock where it lay heavy against his stomach, lips parting on an exhale. The memory of his name on your lips filled his head as he swiped his thumb across the head of his cock to spread the pre-cum already leaking from the tip and hissed at the sensitivity.

Not tonight, he thought as his grip tightened as he stroked himself towards a quick release, but one day soon he would make you pay for the torment you inflicted on him today.

He came with a low groan, your voice in his head chiding him once more about no strenuous exercise and he smirked in the darkness at the memory, fatigue making his eyelids heavy.

Soon.

Some liberties I have taken with Star Wars Canon:

- Pantran whitefangs (a species of big cat) are native only to Hoth, and are notorious for being impossible to domesticate and are constantly hunting. Anyone who tries, usually ends up dead. For the purposes of Stitches, it didn't seem likely that a money launderer would hide on Hoth. It's a desolate planet with a population that "would just about fill a cruiser". Scipio was at one point, the centre of the Banking Clan during the Galactic Republic and was such an important location that both the Republic and Separatists each sent ambassadors to ensure there was no corruption there. It has a larger population and more cities, somewhere I can justify a money lauderer hiding out in. This is why I transplanted Whitefangs to a different planet though I have made sure that it was an equally frozen one!

- Bacta usually removes the need for literal stitches as we know in real life, but I theorized that, while bacta is a perfect healer given time; in triage and emergency care, going back to basics sometimes helps. That's why I tried to combine the idea of bacta thread, something that would physically hold a wound together and prevent blood loss while the bacta worked in the interim.

- The generic "bending the Creed but not breaking it" spiel about reader seeing Din's body so long as it's not his face.

Stitches Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @pychedelic-star @nova646 @theflightytemptressadventure @wantingtobekorra @computeringturtle @slayerette26 @kesskirata​ @greatcircle79​

Hopefully I haven’t forgotten anyone! But drop me a message if I did! 

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin fic #din djarin #mando #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[yoditopascal]

Aliit (Part One)

This is my first fic in YEARS (and my first star wars fic ever!) so I hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave any constructive criticism you have!Also, this is not beta-read so if you see any mistakes I apologize in advance!

Tags/Warnings: Din Djarin x Reader, Boba Fett x Reader friendship, Rated Mature for future fight scenes and possible smut? Reader is named because I hate using Y/N, Reader is also BIPOC, voice kink, plus sided reader

Mando'a translations for this chapter: Sarad (flower)

Summary: "Sometimes family is more than just blood."

Stripped of her armor, disgraced, and cast out by her tribe Boaz Wrotek has had her identity taken from her. On her journey to find herself she finds that home and family are not what she originally thought them to be and there is more to being a Mandalorian than just creed alone.

Masterlist//Next Chapter

The Mandalorian

The sky was lit with bright orange and red as the sunset behind the brown and purple landscape, casting a balmy glow over the land. Boaz stood on the bars of the railings, basking in the sunset’s warmth that had washed over her. Behind her, a bantha moaned trying to get her attention.

“Yeah, alright I hear you Sarad.”

Jumping down from the coral railing, Boaz went back to her task of refilling the bantha’s food and water supply. Now content with their full troughs the three hairy beasts grunted in satisfaction as they ate.

Smiling warmly Boaz scratched one behind its horns and looked back out towards the horizon expectingly. Kuiil had been gone for a few hours now, having told her that one of the bluurgs got loose in the night, and she was starting to get a bit worried as he hadn’t returned from retrieving them yet. Stretching the tired muscles in her arms and back, she hopped over the railing of the Bantha pen and started towards their shared home, intending to get dinner going before he returned.

Just as she turned to walk into the tent, she heard the telltale groan of a bluurg out in the distance. Turning around and expecting to see Kuiil with the beasts she was surprised to find another creature walking with a slight limp in his step along behind them.

A figure who she immediately recognized the moment she saw his helmet.

A Mandalorian.

As the duo neared Boaz approached and took the leads from Kuiil. As she was leading the two lethargic bluurgs to their pen, she kept glancing back at the Mandalorian. The more she looked at him the more her blood felt like it was boiling,

‘What the hell is a Mandalorian even doing all the way out here?’

Scrunching up her nose in mild anger Boaz slammed the pen gate a little harder than necessary, drawing both men’s attention as she walked up to them again.

“Boaz we have a guest.” Kuiil started as he penned his own bluurg with the others. The Mandalorian stood off to the side uncomfortably, not knowing how to interact with the woman sensing that she did not want him there.

“I see that, Guess I’ll go snd start dinner.” Boaz turned on her heel and went into the tent, pouring drinks for herself and Kuiil, as they entered shortly behind her.

“Many have passed through,” Kuiil said as he accepted the cup that Boaz offered to him. “They seek the same one as you.”

“Did you help them?” The Mandalorian asked as he silently watched the woman leaning on a support beam by the makeshift stove sipping from her cup, she stared him down with what he could see as both curiosity and annoyance.

“You’re a bounty hunter?” she nearly choked as she stood straight back up.

“Bo-“Kuiil tried to calm her but she continued as she got closer to Kuiil so he could see the temper in her deep brown irises.

“He’s a bounty hunter,” she argued, “a Mandalorian at that, he’s gonna get you killed Kuiil, he shouldn’t- “

“The one he is after has caused much grief to this planet,” Kuiil interrupted

“We will help him so that we may return to peace,” he continued as he took a sip from his cup. “I have spoken.”

Frustrated, Boaz knew that once he set his mind Kuiil couldn’t be swayed. “Fine.” She fumed as she stormed from the tent bumping the Mandalorian purposefully with her hip as she did so.

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” The Mandalorian’s modulated voice spoke through his helmet with a sigh as he turned his attention back to Kuiil.

“She will come to understand.”

The Ugnaught watched her back as she trotted off, he knew she’d be angry at him for helping another bounty hunter, but he wasn’t expecting her to storm off as she had. Usually, she would just fume in silence until their company was out of ear range before she said anything to him, this was definitely not like her.

“You never answered my question." the Mandalorian drew Kuiil’s attention back to him as he asked again. “Did you help them?”

“Yes, they died.”

“Well, then I’m not sure if I want your help.” He tilted his helmeted head to the side trying to get a better read on the elder Ugnaught.

Turning back to the Mandalorian cup in hand he sat across from him looking somewhat lost in thought.

“You do, I can show you to the encampment.”

“What’s your cut?”

“Half.”

“Half the bounty to guide? Seems steep.” The Mandalorian was taken aback as he leaned back in his seat but was not completely surprised, there was always a catch.

“No. Half the bluurg you helped capture. Only one of them belonged here.” Kuiil clarified

The Mandalorian once again tilted his head this time to show his confusion. “The bluurg? You can keep them both.”

“No, you’ll need one to ride,” Kuiil answered firmly “The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

“I don’t know how to ride bluurg.” admitted the Mandalorian with a bit of defeat in his tone.

“I have spoken,” Kuiil said once more as he stood and began looking through shelves and drawers for extra sleeping necessities amongst his and Boaz’s scattered belongings in the tent.

“You can sleep here for tonight, We’ll begin teaching you to ride in the morning.”

“What about her?” the Mandalorian asked as he briefly cocked his head in the direction that Boaz had stormed out, not wanting to overstay his welcome with her.

“She will return once she’s ready.” The Ugnaught sighed as he glanced back out of the tent in the direction she had left, then back to the Mandalorian as he handed him a small blanket from a random shelf.

“Get some rest.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the book of boba fett #boba fett #grogu #reader #named reader #reader is bipoc #aliit

[babygirlrex0504]

Bounty Pt 6

Greef has sent the message. Din has now grabbed both Cara and Kuiil. As traveling back to Neverro you think about what could happen when getting there, meditating to see a warning.

Warnings: violance, blood, swearing, and major character death

Taglist:@pascalshimbo @flowersgirl02 @yourunstablegf

Previous Next

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat at the cockpit trying to meditate once more. You sat listening to the hum outside of the ship, listening to the voices downstairs, as they were arm wrestling, well Din and Cara. Kuiil and the IG unit stay behind and watched, hell you were shocked that Din even let IG-11 aboard with the blurgg. Since it was too stuffy you decided to here to meditate.

You sighed as everything zoned out. “No!” You saw the blast bolt pass but this time not blue it was red. You watched as you looked around and saw rock and tie fighters.

You watched as what looked like stormtroopers flooding in with a someone wearing a black suit with horns on the helmet. Fire. War. Blood. Death. As you swung your saber you felt a bolt hit you chest. Mixture of blood and tears filled your vision before the person stood above you. A Mandalorian? You closed your eyes.

“No! No, no! Stop!” You gasped as you dropped to the floor, you looked around to know if someone was holding you up, when you found no one your heart started to race. You pushed your hair out of the way and noticed that voice was coming downstairs. You stood up and skid down the ladder.

“That is not okay!” Cara said holding her throat.

“What happened?” You said over the commotion.

“Curious.”

“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara said to Kuiil.

“What?” You said as Din handed you the kid.

“The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense. This I've heard rumors of.” Kuiil explained.

Din looked at you then at Kuiil. “Yeah he knows.” You whispered.

But they did not hear you as they bickered back and forth you looked at the kid. Who kept glaring at Cara. You felt the anger from the kid as he kept staring. Which made you worry, yet you had the same feeling. Din looked at you for a moment. “Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now.” You snapped out of your mind as Din stood up. “Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?”

“I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands.” He responded looking over at Cara.

You handed the kid back as you watched Kuiil fix the pod. You couldn’t stop thinking of the person with the horned helmet. You thought of what the place looked like trying to point out what it is from. If you have been there before, it could have been a vision but from stress it could also not be. A loud thud made you jump and snap your head over. IG was moving up towards where Din was, you heard voice echo as you watched IG come back down.

“Care for a meal?” He asked looking down at you.

“Thank you.” You reached as you ate whatever was on it.

Kuiil looked at you. “He knows?”

“Huh?” You said looking up.

“Like I said before I have heard rumors about people that have those powers that could take down nations but use them for their purposes.” He explained.

“Force Users?” You whispered.

He didn’t say anything before he nodded. “I have spoken.”

It was silent after that, as the Crest landed already Cara and Kuiil walked off first. You saw Greef standing at a good distance. “You okay?” Din asked placing a hand on your back.

You nodded. “Nightmare.” You whispered. He nodded as the pod came next to you. “Be careful.” You whispered as you placed your hand on his. “Please.”

“Of course Cyare.” He whispered before walking off.

You followed as you walked off Greef half smiled. “Sorry for remote rendezvous but things got complicated after you left.”

You glared at him feeling your sabers burn in your back. How did he survive? He explained what was going on, recommending Cara to cover her tattoo. After introducing and looking at the child before heading out. It was dark out night time. Him and his people followed him while we fell back watching his move.

“One wrong move and my sabers go flying out.” You whispered to Din.

He looking at you. “Relax.”

You rolled you eyes smiling as Greef said we should make camp. We set the fire and that’s when he explained how it looks. There is man that travels with a squad with him and how he kills anyone that gets in his way. He sounded just like a Empire Lieutenant, destroying anything and anyone.

As everything settled you heard something fly above you. You snapped your head up just as everyone else did. It wasn’t a ship no…an animal. That’s when the thing dove down and scooped one of Greef’s men up. Everyone shot above trying to hit the creature. It got Greef having him hit the ground. You shot a couple more times before the thing flew off. You looked over to see Greef being helped. You walked over and knelt down.

“He's hurt badly.” One of his men said as they helped him to the log to sit him up.

“I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Ow!” You looked at his arm and saw his deep it was.

“Hold still.” You said grabbing his arm to hold still

“They got you good.” Cara replied.

“How bad?” He asked sweating a bit.

“Bad.” You whispered. “The poison's spreading fast.”

“So this... This is how it happens.” Greef whispered.

“Don't be so dramatic.” Cara scoffed.

“I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?”

You snapped your head up. “Anyone?”

“I'm guessing that's a "no".” Greef said sounding defeated.

“It's still spreading. This isn't working.” You whispered trying to control it. You tried to use the force to heal him with no success. You heard something coming next to you to see the kid lifting his hand up.

“Get this thing outta here.” Greef grunted as the pain was coming harder.

“Wait.” You whispered as you picked him up.

“He's trying to eat me.” Greef said dramatically

You rolled your eyes, as the kid’s hand got closer you watched as the wound closed up. You watched the amazement in Greef’s eyes. Then the kid fell, you caught him before getting up and held him close. You looked down at him and he nodded as you did as well.

You walked over to place him back before Din came up. “Is he alright?” He whispered as you closed the pod.

You nodded. “It takes a lot of energy to do something like that.” You whispered looking over at everyone.

“I am going to stay up, get some re…” Din started before you place a hand on his shoulder.

“You need to rest. I can stay up for a few and I promise I will wake you.” You said smiling at him.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Fine 2 hours.” He mumbled before you rolled you eyes as he sat close to the child and you.

When the morning came you watched as you came closer and closer to the town. That’s when Greef shot his men and you, Cara, and Mando drew your weapons as Kuiil waited behind ready to grab the kid.

Before you could shoot Greef put his gun away. “The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it,” You glared at him then looked at Din. “Go on. You can gun me down here and now and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe.”

“We'll take our chances.” Cara replied glaring as well.

“The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?” Greef explained hands up.

“This is ridiculous. Let’s just kill him and go Mando.” You said looking at him.

“Perhaps you should let him speak.” Kuiil said over all of us.

“Listen, we both need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you two...” Greef started but you shook your head.

“No. Let's just kill him and get outta here.”

“I agree this is nothing wrong all over it.” Cara said looking at Greef.

“He's right.” Cara said putting his blaster away.

“What are you doing?” Mando said through his teeth.

“As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the child.” She explained.

“It's a trap.” You said looking at Greef.

“Bring me. Bring you?” Greef asked looking at all of us.

“Tell him you captured me and her.” Mando suggested. “Get me close to him and I'll kill him.”

“That's a good idea. Give me your blaster.” Greef agreed having his hand out.

“This is insane.” You whispered.

“It's the only way. Well, I'm coming with you.” Cara said shaking her head as well.

“No, no, no. That would make them suspicious.” Mando said disagreeing.

“I don't care. I'm coming.” Cara said looking at both of you.

“Tell them she caught us.” You said looking at Greef.

“Fine. Then she can bring the child.” Greef said back.

“No. The kid goes back in the ship.” Mando said shaking his head.

“But without the child, none of this works!” Greef disagreeing.

“I have a plan. Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. When you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors. Here's a comlink.” Mando explained as you handed the child wrapped in his blanket.

You looked down at him. “Down be afraid little one. We will be back.” You said to him rubbing his ear.

“I will keep the child safe.” Kuiil said as he reached down to him.

“Don't forget to cover your stripes.” Greef reminded Cara as she wrapped a cloth around it.

“Let's go.” Mando said as they handcuffed you and him.

You watched as Kuiil rode away on his blurgg back to the Crest. You hoped that he would get back safe. As you reached the town two stormtroopers watched the front. You watched as Greef and them talked before letting us through. He was right, it was different. Imperial was all over the place, covered.

“We really messed it up.” You whispered loud enough for Mando to hear you.

He nodded in response as you all shuffled into the cantina. The client was in there, sitting down. Greef showed how he brought us to him. The client looked up and down and nodded.

“It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans.” He said looking at Mando then at you. “I believe that we can take you alive, just like the child. You will be in great use.”

“Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?”

“I would be obliged. Please sit,” Cara pushed you and Mando forward which you walked to sit across. “It is a shame that your people had to suffer so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion?

The Empire improves every system i touches Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now, Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution?”

“I see nothing but death and chaos.” You spat glaring at him.

“ Of course for a woman of your stature that you would see it that way,” He inhaled and looked at the pod. “I would like to see the baby.”

You looked up at Greef who was caught off guard for a moment. “Uh...It is asleep.”

“We all will be quiet.” He insisted. “Open the pram.” Before he could open it someone whispered something to him. “Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call.”

When he walked away Mando leaned in. “Give me the blaster.”

“You get one shot.” Greef said handing it to him.

“This is bad. You said four.” You said looking and watching.

“Well, there are more. What can I tell you?” He said through his teeth.

“Yes, Moff Gideon?” The client said.

“Have they brought the child?”

“Yes, they have. Currently, it is sleeping.”

“You may wanna check again.”

You looked at Mando who watched carefully. As they opened it nothing was inside. Before you could shoot blaster bullets came through. You all ducked and the men were mowed down. You all leaned against something that was covering you. You looked through the window to see more and more stormtroopers coming into view. “What in the…” You whispered looking at Greef.

“Four stormtroopers?” Cara said to him as Greef shook his head.

“This is bad.” You said looking at Mando who was already a step ahead.

“Kuiil? Are you back to the ship yet?Are you there? Do you copy?” There wasn’t anything before his voice came through.

“Yes!”

“Are you back to the ship yet?”

“Not yet!” Still no movement they just stood there waiting.

“Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!” That’s when something came behind them. You watched as the man in black armor came out.

Your heart stopped however there was no helmet just his suit. You looked over at Mando as he looked at you.

“You have something I want.” He yelled to all of you

“Who's this guy?” Cara asked looking at you.

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not.” You frowned at that statement. This isn’t good. He was in your dream, it had to be.

“Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? They're onto us!” There was no answer you bit your inner cheek.

“Kuiil, come in!” Mando said sternly.

“In a few moments, it will be mine.” That’s when you felt the force darken. You looked down gasping a little and Cara looked at you.

“No.” You whispered looking at Mando who said in the comm again.

“Kuiil! Do you copy? Kuiil!”

“It means more to me than you will ever know.” You felt the tears hit your eyes. No.

“Kuiil! Are you there? Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil, come in. Kuiil? Are you there? Do you copy? Kuiil? Kuiil!” He said repeatedly.

However…you knew he wasn’t going to answer. Kuiil was gone.

#din djarin x f!reader #the mandolarian x reader #mando #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal

[queenofspades6]

More Than Partners (The Mandalorian x reader)

Forbidden Love

Summary: A little conversation between the Mandalorian and Kuiil about Mando’s feelings for Y/N, a Jedi who follows him everywhere. But what happens when you hear everything the bounty hunter said?

———

Chapter 2>

———

***

When you arrived at the Ugnaught’s place in Avala-7, he greeted you and the Mandalorian with open arms. At first, Kuiil was astonished to see a young woman with the bounty hunter. And even if he didn’t say a word, the Ugnaught was aware that you were a powerful being. He couldn’t help but wonder why a Jedi would stay with a Mandalorian after the battle of Galidraan. Jedi and Mandalorian were not known for their friendship.

The Ugnaught served you and the Child food. He wasn’t wealthy and yet, here he was, serving you everything he had on a tray.

“Thank you, Kuiil, sincerely.” You said, clear recognition in your eyes.

Mando was watching you, and the Child eat with a protective gaze while talking with Kuiil. You stared at them, enjoying the brief moment of peace.

When you finished your plate, you glanced at the Child and saw him already sleeping upright.

“I am going to take the Child to bed.” You declared, standing up.

Mando gazed at your plate, and noticed you only ate half of your food. As if you were reading his mind, you headed towards him under the watchful eye of Kuiil.

“I left you something to eat for when you’re alone.“ You muttered, a slight smile appearing on the corner of your lips.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his eyes still on you when you took the Child in your arms and headed towards the bedroom.

You were no longer in the room, and the Mandalorian suddenly felt uncomfortable. Something was missing. Or someone... Even if Mando knew you were in the next room with the Child, he needed to see you and feel your presence. The Mandalorian was restless, and even though he was wearing an helmet, the Ugnaught noticed his discomfort.

“I see you are quite close to Y/N.” Kuiil stated, a serious look on his face.

The bounty hunter hesitated.

“I am. She looks after the Child when I can’t.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Silence filled the room again, and Mando tensed at Kuiil’s tone.

“What do you mean?“ The Mandalorian questioned, grateful that his helmet was covering his embarrassment.

“I noticed how you stare at her when she is not looking, how your gaze lingers on her a bit too longer, how you watch over her when there is no danger.“

Although Mando was wearing an helmet, he avoided the Ugnaught’s look, already feeling his cheeks flushing.

“I have seen this look on many people, Mandalorian. I can’t see your face, but I know how you feel towards this young Jedi.“

“I don’t feel anything for Y/N.“ The bounty hunter replied instantly, clenching his fists tightly.

Even though you were in the next room, you heard the words distinctly.

Mando didn’t feel anything for you...

Your vision quickly became blurred, and you suddenly wanted to throw up. Taking a glance at the Child who was still sleeping, you leaned against the door of the bedroom. Your heart beating faster, you tried to focus on the Mandalorian’s mechanical voice.

“Are you sure?” Kuiil asked, chuckling a little.

“I-I am not in love with her.”

Your body felt heavier, and you almost fell against the door. A tear ran along your cheek, and you tried desperately to repress a sob.

You were a Jedi. You couldn’t have feelings, and especially not for a Mandalorian. And here you were, with your heart in pieces and a lot of tears to shed. You knew it would happen. You knew falling in love was risky and that love meant suffering, yet, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the Mandalorian. You had not seen his face, and you didn’t care. When you heard the rumours about Mando, you first thought he was a ruthless and skilled bounty hunter. But when you met him, you could see through his shiny helmet and deep down you knew he was a good man.

“So you don’t feel anything for her?“The Ugnaught insisted.

Kuiil was smirking, you would have sworn it.

“I am a Mandalorian. I can’t feel anything.” You heard Mando muttering with his modulated voice.

Why was Kuiil trying to find out if the bounty hunter loved you?

Why was he insisting like that?

“I didn’t ask if you can or can’t. I asked if you love her.”

“I can’t.” Mando whispered, as if he regretted the words he said.

Frowning, you took a deep breath, hoping Kuiil and Mando didn’t hear you.

“I-I-”

“You don’t need to lie to me, Mandalorian. I saw it with my own eyes. No helmet can protect from love.” The Ugnaught declared solemnly.

“I care for her.” Mando admitted, holding his breath through his helmet.“More than I should.”

At the sound of the Mandalorian’s voice, you pressed yourself against the door, trying to know if what Mando said was true. But the doors couldn’t support your weight, and you crashed on the ground, making a lot of noise and revealing your presence in the process. Sighing, you looked at the Child, hoping you didn’t wake him up. He was awake, standing up in the bed, watching you with a questioning look on his face. Putting a finger in front of your mouth, you told him to stay silent.

“She cares for you too, Mandalorian. You should tell her before it’s too late or you will regret it all your life. I have spoken.” Kuiil claimed, already standing up to wash the dishes.

Slowly opening the door, you tried to glance at the Mandalorian. He was still sitting where you left him some minutes ago. You couldn’t see his face, but he was obviously lost in thought, not daring to move from his seat.

Taking a deep breath, and against your better judgment, you gestured to the Child to return to sleep, and headed towards Mando.

“Mando.”

At the sound of your voice, he startled and his cheeks flushed a little under his heavy helmet.

“Is the Child sleeping?” He questioned, clearly avoiding your gaze.

You wanted to see his reaction, but Mando’s visor was looking at the wall behind you.

Silence was usually comfortable between the two of you, yet today, you weren’t the only one feeling ill-at-ease.

“Can I ask you something?“ The bounty hunter asked, daring to glance at you quickly.

“You just did.“

“You know what I mean, Y/N.” He said with a stern tone that sent shivers to your spine.

Adrenaline rushed through your body, and you smirked at the Mandalorian. He cared about you, so why should you act like you had not heard anything.

“Did You hear my conversation with Kuiil?”

His voice was filled with anger and concern.

Was the Mandalorian afraid you heard what he said to the Ugnaught?

“I-” You tried to mutter.

Lying was easy, and telling the truth was risky. Yet, you chose to stay true to who you were, and you couldn’t lie to Mando, even if it meant he would break your heart.

”I heard everything.“

Confidently, you faced the Mandalorian and noticed him staring at you.

You would have killed to know how he was feeling right now.

Was he furious?

Suddenly, the bounty hunter stood up and you felt his hand reaching out.

“Y/N... I-” He whispered, unsure of what he was doing.

”I am sorry.”

Without realizing it, the Mandalorian took a step towards you.

“Was it true, Mando?” You questioned, getting closer to him.

Bowing his head, he stared intently at the ground.

“What is true, Y/N?”

“You know what I mean.“

He cleared his throat, and you slowly searched for his gloved hand. Wrapping your fingers around his, you heard the Mandalorian let out a stuttering breath and his grip tightened on your hand just a bit. Staring at your intertwined fingers, and then looking up, Mando stroked your cheek tenderly, and you tried to enjoy his touch on your skin.

“I care for you, Y/N. You aren’t just my partner.” He whispered in your ear, almost touching your skin, and making you shiver.

”I know.”

“I care more than I should.”

Hearing the remorse in his voice, a single tear ran along your pale face.

“I care too.” You replied, your voice breaking in the process.

The Mandalorian caressed your face with his gloved hand, and then your lips, opening them slightly. You swore you could hear his halting breathing even though he had his helmet on.

“We should not.” He murmured with his mechanical voice, obvious desire in his tone.

“And why not?”

Without thinking about the consequences, you got closer to Mando, hoping he would change his mind.

You caressed his helmet, acting as if it was his skin against your touch. He took your hand away from his face, and fundled your chin with his hand.

“Y/N... I can’t.” He whispered, clenching his teeth.

Seeing him being so conflicted between you and his Creed made you feel awfully sad. You couldn’t ask him to choose. Never.

“I understand, Mando.”

Trembling, he stroked your cheeks again, enjoying your skin against his gloved hand, and secretly hoping the moment would last forever.

Sticking your tongue against your palate, you hoped you would not burst into tears in front of the Mandalorian.

“Y/N.” Mando said, wiping your tear away.

Pulling his hand away from your cheeks, you forced a smile and planted a small kiss on the side of the helmet, where his cheek would have been.

“Goodnight Mando.”

Without looking behind, you headed towards the bedroom where the Child was probably sleeping again. Tears were falling in your face, but you didn’t care. Maybe one day, you thought. But hope was a dangerous thing.

“Goodnight Y/N.“ Mando said, alone in the room.

He had never felt so lonely, even if you were just in the other room.

⬇️Chapter 2⬇️

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[fanfoolishness]

Holding Space (The Mandalorian)

An Ugnaught's lifespan is twice that of a human's, but there are times when even a being holding the long view can still find space to hope. Kuiil POV, 1000 words.

***

Arvala-7 is a world of earth and water. It is a world of vicious summer rains flooding the canyons in gouts and torrents, and a world of fierce winter heat that bakes the mud into landscapes strange and beautiful. It is a world that hides its secrets, buries them deep beneath the ever-shifting surface.

Mudhorns slumber in darkened caves, feeding off the nutrient-rich mosses clinging to the reddish stalactites. Blurrg roam freely over the cracked mud plains, chasing the earthen-mice for sport and protein, grazing on the mud-choked grasses hidden within darkened fissures. It is on this world that he stakes his claim, a lone Ugnaught's defiance writ small on the galaxy's scale.

His memory stretches, back and back, when he allows it. The Republic in its glory once gave lofty promises to his people, claiming to uplift them into the galactic sphere, removing them from the hunger, the war, the struggle of their homeworld. He was so young once. Their words rang of hope, and he listened.

A deal struck, a debt tendered. Ushered they were into the glittering Core. But they found no succor in the dizzying spires of Coruscant; there was only servitude in golden halls, a quiet shriveled sorrow in the promises left broken.

Yet the Ugnaughts have always been a patient people, possessed of the wisdom that a longer lifespan grants. He watched the travails of the half-lifed humans, and he toiled in his time, and he endured the way the wealthy ignored him with polite plastisteel smiles. And when their trappings fell around them, their hollow men revolting in terribly clean violence, he was ignored once more. All that truly changed was the insignia.

Through all of it, he was not surprised.

The years continued, time’s march unending, and he let himself bury his hopes. It was best that way. His debt had been passed back and forth, round and round, a chit to bargain with. He faded from Coruscant, to Duro, to Corellia, always, always working for others and not himself.

He had learned, long ago, that this was the way of the galaxy; he had learned that he would work, and he would pray, but he would not hope. He was no longer young, and his joints creaked, and his knuckles swelled.

But a bright human in a blue cloak, his smile flashing, traded for a city in the clouds. He treated them as people, not as servants; he trusted their skills, the wisdom and cleverness in their hands and minds. They built a world their own, tunnels shaped for their hands and bodies, their language echoing in the dark. They were not seen as lesser.

When the Empire intruded on their hidden city in the air, their deadly Mandalorian called to heel, surprise at last came upon him. He had assumed imminent destruction, and prepared for nothing less.

The man with the bright smile told them to take all they could, to find a new life, all debts repaid. Kuiil’s hands hung heavy at his sides, but they would not remain idle long. Not when his own dreams called to him.

***

Arvala-7 is home, now. It is a world of predictability and rhythm. After so many years in tunnels and corridors, it is strange to feel the wind on his face, but not unwelcome.

Kuiil watches the summer rains fall, and he farms moisture, lichens, blurrg. He is himself. There are no demands upon him except those he sets himself, and he watches the sun rise in the morning, and the moon rise in the evening, and he is at peace.

Until the hunters come.

He knows not what they seek. It is unimportant but for the way it intrudes upon the peace he has so carefully cultivated. That is what cannot stand.

He aids the would-be seekers, urging them onward, away from his humble valley. They fail, again and again, and the debris of their failure stains the red-brown earth. The blurrg avoid the canyon of flames, and Kuiil turns his face away. Death and destruction linger in his home, a stain on the horizon that lingers in his gaze.

A new day dawns, and the Mandalorian sets boot to mud. He battles the blurrg, speaks with a determination that chills the bone and stirs the blood. Kuiil believes he has found the answer to the trouble in his valley in this hunter. And he has, but not in the way he thinks.

The Mandalorian returns with a child, a creature small and weak and something new. Kuiil wonders, looking into its large eyes, if this is not what he was meant for.

He repairs the hunter’s ship with the aid of the Mandalorian. He knows not what the hunter will do with the child. He knows the man was not sent to rescue. But he has also heard the stories sung of Mandalorians, and their foundlings.

The ship, renewed, takes to the air. Kuiil hopes.

There is work still to do, though. He travels to the canyon of flame and ruin, and finds a prize. Kuiil’s hands keep busy, remembering their skill, their use.

The child with the down-turned ears echoes in his mind, a memory of what should be, a reminder that he promised to serve. His hands take the promise, mold it, stretch it, spark it into the former bounty droid. Hardware shifts into software shifts into experience, and Kuiil leads. He teaches. He guides.

He remembers the little child with the brown-black eyes and the hungry face, and low in his chest, deep in his blood he holds space.

“Should they return,” he murmurs into the gold-red sunset, “we will care for them.”

IG-11 stands tall and steady and true beside him. “Yes,” it agrees. “I know my purpose.”

“And I mine,” Kuiil says, voice a low, dry chuckle. “I have spoken.” The sun pours over the mud-fields, and the fields crack, their water evaporating in the winter heat.

He knows not if the Mandalorian will return. Long years ago, there was little he could have hoped for.

But the galaxy is different now, and Kuiil holds the space.

#kuiil #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #ig-11 #star wars fanfiction #my mando fic #cameos from din djarin & grogu & lando calrissian & boba fett :-D