#din djarin clan leader

[saradika]

— beneath the mask

din djarin x f!reader

rated t - 1.3k

tags: medieval!au, light angst, anxiety, arranged marriage, soulmate au, reader has a mother & father

prompt: "I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly” from the writing challenge hosted by the amazing and lovely @moonlight-prose 💖

when a mysterious stranger wins your hand at the tournament, you can't help but wonder about his intentions

With each step down the aisle, your legs threaten to give out.

A clicking of your teeth as you tremble, before you're gritting your jaw, biting your anxiety back. You have a reputation to uphold, even if you're only the daughter of a lord from a lesser house.

You're still a lady.

And this marriage would ensure a home for you. Protection. More than, if this man is what he says he is.

But a part of you desperately wishes that it was someone else at the end of the aisle.

You'd searched for a long time. For the glimpses that flash in your dreams at night. Knowing that he was out there - the one you had begun to think of as yours.

Your soulmate.

Never managing to meet the same eyes that reflect back at you in the darkness, just before you wake. Not once in the hundreds, thousands of people you’ve looked at, throughout your years.

And when none were found, you slowly gave up. Knowing the world was too large and you were too small, too poor, to seek them out.

Eventually agreeing to the match that your mother and father arranged.

If you could not have him, then you did not want anyone.

And now - the figure that waits for you stands tall.

Encased in gleaming armor, showing none of the nerves that wrack you. Making you wonder if you should have protested. Taken the path of the unwed, even if there was hardship in your future.

The stranger had won your favor, in the tournament. That is how the story will be told, passed on by your father.

Looking back, you remember very little from it. Knowing deep down that the winner would be the one to have your hand, whether you liked it or not. So much of it had turned to haze, as you had sat frozen there.

All but too nervous to watch, as weapons clashed, shields splintering.

Men you had known and grown up with falling beneath the sword of the mysterious man, clad in silver armor.

A Mandalorian, it was rumored.

Something from stories, you didn't know they still existed. An ancient clan of knights and warriors, honoring weapons and myths over sworn deities. Never revealing their faces to outsiders, and sometimes even to their own.

He had never killed any of them, and there was some comfort in that.

But that didn't mean he did not wound.

That he wasn't vicious, ferocious on the battlefield. Driven by an unseen force. Unrelenting, even when blood was drawn - splattering a bright crimson against his armor.

Showing just how he came to earn his station. The leader of his tribe, from the whispers you heard. Traveling far - slipping into the last few open brackets in the tournament, just as the first morning was starting.

Ripping through them all, in the days that followed.

You were given as the prize, in the end.

Even before the day ends, you would belong to him - ferried off to a new life tomorrow.

And this is what also slows your feet.

Wondering why such a man would come for you.

At the end of the aisle, you halt. The clergymany is speaking, but it's all white noise. Your own eyes wide and face solemn as you stare at your betrothed - your features reflected back at you in the tinted glass of his visor.

Acutely aware that you haven't seen his face. Not knowing what your husband was to look like.

Was he younger than you? Or older... older than your father?

Was his face kind, or was it as sharp as his movements? Was it all snarling teeth, beneath?

Were his eyes blue, or green, or just maybe... brown? Like his?

You don't know. You think not. Leaving you to wonder how you will bear it - to spend each day staring into their eyes while dreaming of anothers.

It's only when a voice raises that you're snapped from your thoughts. Realizing that the ceremony is waiting for you.

Managing, with a stammer, to repeat the words. To pledge yourself - your life and love - to this stranger.

The words repeated after, a low voice layering with metal. The shaking of your hands is still visible when they reach out to meet his, the tips of yours resting against wide, steady palms.

Covered in gloves but solid, like the rest of him.

Only the peek of tanned skin visible when he peels the glove from his hand. A small comfort coming in the warmth of his hand, as you slip the ring on his finger, settling it just above a scarred knuckle.

The careful brush of his fingers - a calming stroke against your skin, when he slips a matching one on yours.

Gentle, after everything.

Not him.

But perhaps, not a monster.

The celebrations swirl past you. There's music you don't remember. A meal that sits heavy in your stomach, from the meager amounts you managed to swallow.

A smile plastered on - assuring your excitement to family and friends - all while you worry about the hours to come.

Will he be as gentle as he was during the ceremony?

Or will it be more like the battlefield?

These thoughts linger, as the hours pass. Until the sun dips below the horizon, until the stars blanket the sky.

And then, you're alone.

Waiting in the finest room prepared for him in the guest wing. The pretty, ivory gown stripped from you, replaced with something thin and fine and silver - hand-sewn and intended to please him.

Pacing, until you hear the heavy steps approaching - as he returns from a meeting with your father, your dowry and your life handed over.

Leaving you frozen in place, as the door opens. Where he lingers, filling the space.

A different man than before, you think.

There had not been a slope to his shoulders, the way he moves as if afraid to frighten you.

His voice is different too - soft now, coaxing.

"I wish our meeting had been under more pleasant circumstances." Your husband tells you, as the door slowly shuts behind him.

Trapping you, now. The iron latch heavy, as it locks into place.

"But I could not bear to stand by." He continues, that hard edge creeping into his voice again, "You must understand."

"I don't." You manage - your brow pinched, shifting the smallest step backwards as he moves forward.

He goes still, at your retreat.

"Do you not, ner kar’ta?" His head tilts, "Do you not know why I have come?"

The shake of your head is small. Not understanding the name he calls you, his intentions.

He hesitates then, for a second. Before his hands are reaching - grasping the edge of his helmet. Slipping it from his head, as his head dips.

His hair is dark, beneath. Messy and curling, greying at the temples, down to the scruff that lines his jaw beneath plush lips and the curve of his nose.

And his eyes. That pretty shade of brown, the dark fan of his eyelashes.

You know them. Though you've never seen them, yourself.

For a moment, you can't breathe. Frozen for an entirely new reason - starting back at the eyes that you've seen so often.

"It's you," You manage. The words are no more than a soft gasp.

He lets you touch him, then. Fingertips tracing his jaw, those eyes slipping shut when your fingers brush the nape of his neck. Somehow knowing how the curls would feel against your fingers, already knowing each detail of his face.

Hidden deep down, revealed bit by bit in your sleep.

Only now, do you see all of him.

And only now, do you lean in. Your head tipping towards him, just as his forehead presses against yours. And it's now that you understand the warmth of his touch - the way it seems to soak into your skin. A lost piece of you, now becoming complete.

You hadn’t been able to find him - so he had found you, instead.

Unable to help the smile, as the dark pit in your stomach blooms into spring.

I wanted it to be you, you think - as your heart finally starts to beat again. I wanted it to be you so badly.

There's a hitch in his breath, with your touch. Fingers that stretch out and then curl, until you're taking them yourself, slipping yours between them.

"Now do you know?" Your husband murmurs, in the voice that you know as well as his eyes.

And you do - the answer coming easily, as you nod, "Because you're mine."

"Yes," He smiles.

"Yours."

i cant stop writing soft!soulmate din 💖 thank you for reading!!

ner kar’ta - my heart

#so sorry I am late my love #I have been thinking about this so much - such an great prompt and event!! 💖 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #writing challenge #din djarin imagine #din djarin

[rinixo]

aquae vivae

Din Djarin/Reader | 4.1k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, PIV sex, Mand’alor Din Djarin, breeding kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of pregnancy, subtle sex pollen, wedding night, oral sex

Your wedding night as the new bride of the Mand'alor.

AU of the 'trying to sleep' series (non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi). Can be read alone.

a/n: This follows the same general story as 'thrones and people and cities' but can technically be read alone.I tagged 'sex pollen' but it just barely fits that trope. Mainly just added it so folks who aren't into it can skip/you're aware of the inherent dubious consent of it - but there is nothing but 100%, enthusiastic consent from all parties here.

read on ao3

You pause at the edge of the pool, eyeing the dark depths. The sound of dripping water echoes through the caverns, the only sound apart from your thrumming heart.

The murmur of your name snaps your attention to the caped man halfway down the steps into the pool. Din is half-turned towards you, armored head to toe as usual, the end of his long, furred cape floating in the still water. The cape around your shoulders matches his, and you rub the soft fur with your fingers nervously.

Din reaches out a gloved hand. Stepping forward, you lay your own in it and let him lead you down into the water. You’re surprised - despite the dark chill of the cavern, the water is strangely warm. You wonder if it is fed by geothermal springs, deep below the crust of the planet, or if it is something deeper.

There’s magic in the sacred pools, Din had murmured into your hair one late night. He told you about how bathing in the waters had redeemed him, how it was the great catalyst leading to his eventual accession to the role of Mand’alor. Now, as you stand before him, hands grasped in his, you wonder if the tingling on your skin is from the magnitude of what was about to occur or something more. Something without a name.

When Din had explained to you what a Mandalorian wedding was like, you had been quite happy at knowing it was a simple sharing of vows. He had then suggested that the two of you journey into the depths below the city center, to where the caverns with the living waters were located. There, just the two of you, you would bind yourself not only to the man you loved but also become Mandalorian yourself. It was a big moment, and one you had put a lot of careful thought into.

“Are you ready?” Din asks quietly. Squeezing his hands, you smile softly.

“Yes.”

Though you had memorized the vows before venturing into the caves, Din lead you through the words. You were grateful, not wanting to embarrass yourself by stumbling over the pronunciation.

“Mhi solus tome.”

We are one when together.

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when apart.

“Mhi me'dinui an.

We share all.

“Mhi ba'juri verde.”

We will raise warriors.

—

Blinking at the late afternoon light, you followed Din up out of the caves, wet gown sticking around your legs. You were looking forward to changing out of your damp outfit and spending the rest of the evening with your new husband.

People buzzed around you the whole way back to your chambers, several of them wishing the two of you congratulations. You murmured shy thanks, the feeling of being the center of attention during what you felt was such an intimate time causing some of your innate timidness to come forward.

Din had explained to you that part of Mandalorian weddings included feasting and celebrating after the vows were shared. The families and clans of the couples were usually the extent of the guests, but with an apologetic smile, Din warned you that the feast to celebrate your union was likely to be much larger. He was quite beloved as a leader - as the first Mand’alor to resettle the planet since the Purge. The first royal wedding in decades, with the capital more populated than it had been in ages, was shaping up to be quite the affair.

The delegation from Naboo had also gotten involved. The ambassador, who had been so put off by your relationship at first, reveled in the chance to showcase Naboo. All week shipments of millaflowers and lanterns were arriving, along with cases of draping fabrics, mirrors, and jewel-toned crystal. He had even commissioned a gown for you to wear during the feast. Traditionally Naboo clothing was very structured, so you were thankful to see that the gown the ambassador had made for you was in the lake country style - lighter, made of lace and tulle, with a low, open back.

As you stepped into the gown, securing it at your shoulders and around your neck, you paused to look at yourself in the full-length mirror in the closet of your chambers. You had never worn something so lovely. Draped over a chair in the corner was your cape, now dry from its dip in the living waters. It was a symbol of your new status, and you mused at the fact that the gown complemented it quite well.

A knock at the closet door drew you out into the main part of your room. Din - your husband, you thought giddily - was standing there in his armor, sans helmet. You felt yourself flush at the way his eyes widened at your appearance, drinking you in.

“You look stunning,” he breathed, and you smiled at the compliment. You step forward and fuss with his armor - unnecessary, as it was spotless as usual - and looked up into his deep, kind eyes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you remarked, leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth gently. You felt him smile and tilt his head to chase after your mouth, but you pulled away teasingly.

“Later,” you whispered. “We have a feast to attend, remember?”

Din grumbled, and you smiled placatingly. You’d be lying if you didn’t want to forget about the feast and spend the rest of the evening alone with your husband, but you knew if you didn’t show up for just a little while the ambassador would drag you there himself.

“I have something for you first,” Din pulled a small pouch out and turned it over. Something silver fell out into the palm of his gloved hand.

“A pendant?” You watched him hold it up, and saw that it was a delicate chain with a silver charm at the end in the stylized shape of some kind of creature, no bigger than one of your fingernails.

“I asked the armorer to make it,” he murmured. “It’s a Mudhorn, the symbol of my - our - clan.” He reached forward and clasped it around your neck, the weight of the pendant laying heavily on your breast. “It’s pure beskar, made from a piece of my armor.”

You looked down, touching it lightly. “It’s beautiful.”

Din merely smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours, and you responded in a quiet moment of tranquility.

—

The feast was certainly one for the history books. The throne room made you gasp as you entered it, arm-in-arm with Din. The vaulted ceilings were lit with hundreds of beautifully crafted lanterns, mirrors, and crystals reflecting the shimmering flames around the massive space. The millaflowers and fabric draped every surface, the sweet scent of the blooms perfuming everything around you. You gave credit to those who had decorated - all of the decorations perfectly complimented the stark, structured Mandalorian architecture. It truly was a unification of your two cultures.

All around you guests came forward with well-wishes and gifts, which a never-ending retinue of assistants would take a place elsewhere. Grogu, who was also dressed up for the occasion, gurgled happily in his father’s arms at all of the attention. You, however, were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Sensing your discomfort, Din lead you up to the raised dais in the front of the room, where the two of you sat side-by-side in lavish seats set in front of the throne. You reached for a goblet and downed a mouthful of sweet, flowery liquor. Din - who had put his helmet back on before the two of you joined the celebrations - tilted his head slightly in amusement.

“Feeling all right?” He asked, placing his hand on your thigh soothingly. You nodded, placing your drink down on the table and sighing deeply.

“Yes, I just needed some space,” you admitted. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” he answered. “Just a little while longer.”

Guests continued to stream up to the two of you, though now that you were seated and there was a decadent table between you and them you felt more at ease.

An elder Mandalorian approached your table with a crystal carafe filled with a deep red liquid. Setting it gently on the table, they intoned in heavy Mando’a.

“Wine,” Din translates, “Made in the ancient tradition from herbs and tinctures symbolizing prosperity and love. It’s a gift from those who remember the old ways and hope that our union brings forth a new age of growth for our people.”

“Thank you,” you express, taking the carafe. The elder bowed, before shuffling away to allow others to come forward.

The number of people coming up to you seemed to go on forever, and you poured yourself a generous glass of the special wine to help distract you and calm your nerves. It seemed to be working, the sweet yet tart liquid filling you with a familiar warmth and ease. You offered some to Din, who accepted a small taste by lifting his helmet enough for you to tip the goblet into his mouth.

After a while, you felt yourself relaxing into the plush furs of your chair, leaning against Din’s side. You played with Grogu’s ears as he tucked into the snacks laid out on the table, smiling fondly at the child and his voracious appetite.

“Does this mean I’m his mother now?” You wondered aloud and felt Din chuckle.

“I suppose,” he mused. “I’m his father, and you’re my wife, so that would make him our child.”

“Hmm,” you wiped a crumb from the side of the baby’s mouth, amused. “I always imagined my first child looking a little more like me.”

Din coughed, tensing slightly next to you. “Well,” he intoned lowly, leaning a little closer so that his words were only audible to you, “Perhaps the next one will.”

He placed his hand on your thigh again, the thin fabric shifting as he rubbed your skin. You felt warm from your head to your toes, with most of the heat pooling between your legs and where Din’s hand was placed. Throat suddenly dry, you lifted your drink and took another sip.

“C-can we go soon?” You lilted, wanting nothing more than to return to your rooms with Din alone.

“Soon,” Din promised, and you tensed your legs slightly to try to alleviate the ache growing between them. It was a familiar kind of ache, one that you had felt before, wine or no wine. However, there was something different about the way your body was reacting to the man next to you, and you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to take it before pouncing on him in front of everyone in attendance.

Thankfully it was not very long before Din gestured to a member of his staff and had them assist the two of you in making a smooth exit. He passed Grogu, now pleasantly drowsy, to one of his aides and then guided you back to your shared chambers.

When inside you kicked off your shoes, sighing at the relief of the cool floor under your feet. Din let go of your hand and locked the doors behind you, the sound of it engaging sending a throb of anticipation through your body.

You stepped towards your bed, which you had been sharing with Din for months before this. Something about its wide surface, covered in soft linen and furs, felt different this time. It was now your marriage bed.

The sound of Din removing his helmet, the seal disengaging, made you glance over to him. He placed it down gently and started with the rest of his armor. You stood there as if transfixed, watching as the man beneath the armor was slowly revealed. You always enjoyed being the audience to this ritual, and tonight was no exception. In fact, your body continued to warm, shivers of need going up your spine.

Din turns towards you, dressed down only to his most base inner layers. Realizing you were staring, your hands went to the clasp of your gown before he stops you with a low murmur.

“Allow me,” he husks, and you drop your hands to allow him to undress you himself. His fingers, surprisingly soft despite his rough past, dusted across your skin as the lace and tulle were unwound from your frame. At the same time, he began to back you up until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Pulling a pin from where your neck met your shoulder, your gown unraveled and fell softly around your legs. Din’s hands paused, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you there, bare save for the beskar pendant around your neck.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, and you nearly moaned at the tone of his voice. It rolled over you, through you, like thick, rich honey and smoke. You could practically taste it. With a gentle push, Din laid you back onto the bed, standing over you with a hungry look in his eyes.

“I dreamed about this.” He kneeled on the bed, crawling up your body. “You, in my bed, wearing the symbol of my clan.” His head dipped to place a kiss to the center of your ribcage. “Bound to me.” You shivered again as his mouth trailed up to your collarbone, your neck, and across your jaw. Your hands, shaking with expectant thirst, snaked up his powerful arms to clutch at his shoulders.

You wanted to say so many things, all of the emotions that had built up catching on the tip of your tongue, but when you opened your mouth all that left you was a choked “please.”

Din’s mouth slotted over yours and you moaned deeply into it, body arching up to press against his firmer form. One of his hands came to your thigh, and you hitched it up around his waist, rolling your hips wantonly. Your hands ran under his linen shift, and you whined at the barrier between your skin and his.

With a groan, Din’s mouth released from yours just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side. He continued his exploration of your flesh, licking a slow stripe down your arched neck. You hissed as his teeth pulled at your skin, your nails scratching lightly across the skin of his upper back.

“Din,” you crooned, hand going to his head as he dipped down to tease the peak of one of your breasts with that wicked tongue. You cried out as he sucked roughly on your nipple, sensations of velvet and fire going straight to your swollen pussy. His mouth moved between the tips of your breasts, pinching and sucking and nipping at the flesh there until it was as swollen as your pussy felt.

He raised his head, eyes wild. He took in your body, writhing and panting, and thought you reminiscent of molten steel. You sought his gaze, pupils blown dark and wide with desire.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Din croaked, dipping his head down to nose the soft skin of your stomach. “Perfect creature…” he kissed his way down your lower abdomen. “I want to fill you up, sweet girl - do you want it too?”

You let out a wail as he licked a firm stripe up your leaking cunt. He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders so that you were bent - your upper back laying against the bed, your hips angled up towards his mouth. You were wetter than you thought possible, your pussy swollen and flushed. Din sucked firmly on your clit, moaning at the way you keened and shook in his grasp.

Your hands thrashed, clutching desperately at the furs around you. Your thighs tensed, squeezing tightly against the sides of Din’s head as he brought you closer to the crest of your pleasure.

The feeling of his mouth leaving you made you groan in frustration as he dropped your lower body back to the bed. You opened your eyes, brow furrowed as you propped yourself up to stare at your smug husband.

He climbed over you again, shedding his pants. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the hard cock between his legs, flushed and bobbing, leaking clear droplets of pre-spend. You laid back, legs spreading so that he could settle between them firmly.

“Eager girl,” Din teased. “You that desperate to have me inside of you?”

“Din,” you groused, “If you don’t fuck me soon I think I’m going to die.”

He laughed, husked low in his chest as he pressed himself firmly to your swollen entrance. You laid your head back onto the bed, sighing in relief as he began to stretch your walls. It felt like he was splitting you right down the middle in the best way, and you arched your back to let him sink in further.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re a jewel,” he breathed roughly, hips snapping forward until you wailed. “Taking my cock so well.”

You shifted your hips under him, angling yourself to take him as far in as your body would allow. He chuckled at your frustrated expression, arms braced on either side of your head. He bent forward to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

“My little wife,” he breathed over your lips. “Wants my cock so badly.”

“’S'good,” you slurred. “Big. Fuck me, please.” He answered you with a rock of his hips, hitting that spot inside of you that made you keen again.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he crooned against your mouth, hips slapping mercilessly against your pelvis. “Come on.”

“C-come in me,” you begged. Flashes of images - a little curly-haired baby at your breast, curled up against Din’s chest as he whispered to it lovingly, lowly - made your pussy clench around him. Your body ached for it in a way you had never experienced. You wanted him to get you pregnant, wanted to carry his child inside of you.

“Fucking - anything you want, sweet girl,” Din gasped. “Want me to fill you up “ he rides you hard, desperate for the way you cry with every punch at your guts. “You’re so good, baby, fuck-“

He continues to ramble, lost in how you’re tensing around him. “You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful, full of my child. You don’t know how badly I want it, so badly - I can practically see it -“

Emotion wells up in your chest, binding with the pleasure thrumming through you. You’re nearly there - fire rising from your toes and flooding down from your chest. Din dips his head to kiss your neck, and you start to tip over the edge. Your orgasm starts deep inside of your cunt, from where his swollen head is grinding up into your walls, and sparks down to where his pelvis rubs against your clit. Your vision goes white and you hear Din cry out as your desperate pussy wrenches from him his own release.

“T-take it,” he growls, hips snapping against yours, the head of his cock tight against the seal of your womb. You whine at the pressure of it, the feeling almost too good to bear. You shift your hips, pulling away before his head snaps up from your neck.

“No no no- take it,“ he groans, hand tight on your hip. You writhe under him, tears of pleasure pricking the corner of your eyes. His gaze on you burns, and you struggle to see him clearly through the fog of your ecstasy.

His pace remains steady, desperation clear in the way he rams his cock up into your cunt. “Your duty,” he gasps, leaning forward so that his chest nearly crushes you. “Do your duty and take my seed, bear my children.”

He holds you there as he pulses out the last of his release, breath leaving him in short pants through his nose. His teeth are gritted, brow furrowed, gaze locked to your eyes so that you can’t look away.

“D-Din,” you shudder, and his eyes soften. His grip on your hips loosens minutely, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“You did so well,” he praises you. “You’re so fucking good.”

You blink wetly, mind still focused on his cock and how it’s anchored inside of you, pinning you to the bed, plugging you securely. Din tilts his head at your determined expression, and when you roll your hips experimentally he sucks in air sharply.

“Feels good,” you mumble, drunk on the pleasure and the feeling of him still hard inside of you. Stars, how was he still so fucking hard? And why was your body telling you to make him come inside of you again?

Think about that later, you decide, hooking your legs around his waist and pushing him further up into you. He chokes again, head drooping to look at where the clutch of you holds him tightly inside.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re never going to know sleep without the feel of me leaking out of you.” He rolls his hips back before slamming back into you, your mouth opening in a satisfied groan. “Not until you’re fucked full of my child, sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding feverishly. It’s all you can manage to say, everything in you focused on where his body enters yours, in and out, inandout-

The two of you spend the entire night and most of the early morning like that, tangled together, until your bodies are near to collapse from exhaustion. It’s Din who taps out first, placating your desire with soft kisses to your temple and strokes to your still-swollen cunt. It isn’t long before your eyes start to droop, sleep just on the edge of your consciousness as he teases you to one last, lazy orgasm. You all but pass out, head resting on his chest to the feeling of him stroking your hair lovingly.

You wake hours later, alone in bed. Your body aches sweetly, and as you start you rise you roll your neck and groan.

“Good morning,” a raspy voice greets you, and you turn to look at where Din leans up against a dresser. He sips from a steaming mug, brow raising in humor at your bedraggled appearance.

“G’morning,” you croak, throat dry. Din sets his mug down, trading it for a glass. He comes over to the bed, sitting next to you, and hands it to you. You take it, gulping down the cool water gratefully.

“What time is it?” You asked, licking your lips. When he tells you - mid-afternoon - you scoff. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Din’s brow raises again, and he leans back against the headboard. “Thought you needed the rest,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Since you kept me up all night.”

You pouted, indignant and embarrassed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you mumble, and he laughs.

“Quite the opposite,” he husks. “And as much as I’d like to take responsibility for your behavior, I had a feeling it was due to something else.” You tilted your head in confusion, sipping more of the water.

“The wine,” he explained, and you thought back to the previous night - somewhat difficult a task - and remembered the crystal carafe.

“Turns out they mean “new age of growth” more literally than I understood,” Din continues. “That wine is made from herbs that act as an aphrodisiac and increase fertility. You drank a lot more of it than I did, so it hit you harder than it did me.”

You choke on your water, some of it dribbling down your chin. Wiping it away, you set your glass to your side and cover your eyes, groaning. Din pulls you closer and you bury your face in his chest, burning with embarrassment at the situation - and the implication.

“Silly girl,” he croons, hand creeping down your side. You look up at him, another shy pout on your lips, and he tips your chin up to kiss you slowly, deeply. You sigh into it, shifting your leg to straddle his lap and feel him smile against your mouth. You shift down to where his cock sits, firm and proud, and grind your bareness against him until he groans.

“More? So soon?” He whispers darkly, and you nip at him cheekily. Pulling back, you look your husband in the eye, a mischievous glimmer in your gaze.

“Might as well make sure it works, right?” You tease lowly, and shriek in loving laughter as he throws you down and begins to devour you again.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #mando x reader #din x reader

[dyns33]

Mando’a

A sweet Mandalorian story, with a sweet idiot Din and his son

The Mandalorian, Din Djarin, was a man of honour.

No, more than that, he was a good man.

Y/N had known it almost immediately, seeing him with the child. He held him like a father held his son, and at first she thought they were related by blood, and that the bounty hunter was green under his helmet.

In the end, Grogu was indeed his son, but adopted, and the Mandalorian was ready to sacrifice everything for him. Except maybe his job, because he needed money to buy food for the kid.

So he had to keep hunting down dangerous individuals, and he didn't like the idea of ​​leaving the child alone, nor the idea of ​​taking him with him.

So that was how he hired Y/N, after saving her from a drunken man in a cantina, and seeing that she and Grogu seemed to be getting along well.

           "I will pay you, of course." he promised.

           "If I can sleep and eat, and you're not hurting me, then taking care of this adorable baby is enough for me. You helped me after all, it's normal that I'm doing you a favour."

           "I insist."

Din didn't insist long, perhaps not to offend her, seeing that she wouldn't change her mind. Y/N really didn't mind just following him and staying with Grogu. She had always dreamed of adventures.

Despite everything, the Mandalorian seemed to find it necessary to show her his gratitude as often as possible, offering her several gifts, such as new clothes, a weapon to defend herself when he was not around, then a chainmail in Beskar, like the one his son was wearing.

           "I thought only Mandalorians were allowed to wear Beskar !" she said, wondering if this was a test.

           "The Mandalorians and their clansmen. I... You... You are my cya... my burc'ya. You deserve to wear dignified armour, which will protect you."

           "It's a real honour, Mando ! I'm happy to be part of your clan !"

           "Din. My name is Din."

After that, there were fewer gifts, but lots of lovely attentions. No doubt in Mandalorian custom, the leader had to make sure the other members of the clan were happy, healthy and safe.

As with Grogu, Din always made sure Y/N was okay. He always seemed nervous when he had to leave the ship, and he only relaxed when he came back and found them where he had left them, playing or sleeping.

Adoring his father as much as the Mandalorian adored him, Grogu threw himself into his arms every time he saw him.

           "I'm glad to see you too, ad'ika. You were good ? You didn't do too much mischief ? You will always be nice to your buire, uh ?"

           "Pato !"

           "Yes, that's good. I'll keep him, rest cyare."

           "But you just arrived, you..."

           "No." Din said, putting a finger to her mouth. "I know the little one. My mission certainly wasn't as exhausting as him, get some sleep."

At first Y/N slept alone, or with Grogu. The Mandalorian had made a bed for her in a corner of the ship, her own space, so she could have some privacy.

Then she had had a nightmare and to reassure her, the three of them had slept together. Then there had been a problem with the temperature controller, and they had huddled together so they wouldn't freeze to death until they got to a planet to fix it. Of course, Y/N still got sick and Din took care of her until she was better.

After that, without them talking about it, they ended up always sharing the same bed.

Y/N had been travelling with him for several months when Din gave her the necklace that indicated they were from the same clan, before removing his helmet to show her his face.

She was pretty sure he had no right to do this, even with his clansmen.

           "You are my cyare, and Grogu is my ad'ika. It is permitted."

           "Really ?"

           "Of course. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

Y/N smiled tenderly, nodding, which seemed to please him, and smiling as well, he leaned his forehead against hers.

That was the only small problem with Din.

He often spoke Mando'a, obviously without realizing it, and forgetting that Y/N didn't understand at all what he was saying. But she always tried to guess.

He was certainly polite. Kind. As always.

But nothing more.

His arms around her when he slept, his hand caressing her cheek when he had to leave, his smile when he looked at her, his forehead against hers, it meant nothing. Not what she would hope for, anyway.

When he was talking about her, Din was using a lot of words. At first it had been 'burc'ya', but soon it changed to 'cyare' or 'mesh'la'.

With Grogu, she became 'buire'.

When they met someone, she was 'riduur'.

Y/N dared not ask what that meant. Clan member, babysitter ?

She sometimes talked about it with the little one, who didn't really seem to be listening, or understanding, even if sometimes he would turn his little head towards her, and with his big eyes he seemed to say to her 'you are ridiculous, really ridiculous'.

It was Din who had explained that expression to him. Grogu often looked at him like that, with good reason. The child looked at his father like that when he was giving Y/N a nickname, and when he was offering her something, and when he was stammering, asking if he could hold her hand to not lose her in the crowd.

Grogu was still making that face when they arrived at the Armourer's. Din had found some Beskar and she was the only one who could make something useful out of it, for him or for other Mandalorians.

It was much harder than with Din to know what she was thinking behind her helmet, but she seemed happy to see the child, and surprised to see Y/N.

           "Your clan has grown ?"

           "Yes."

           "Did you take your helmet off ?"

           "Only in front of my ad'ika and my riduur."

           "Married ? Congratulations. Come see me if she gets pregnant, I'll prepare presents for your children."

           "We're not there yet, but thank you. I don't know if Grogu will be happy to have vodes or if he will try to eat them."

The little one then turned to Y/N, who had frozen and he stared at her, as if he wanted to say 'Finally. Finally my stupid father has put words to his behaviour and my oblivious mother will be able to understand that they are married. I'm tired and hungry now, feed me '.

           "Uh..." she stammered as she approached the Mandalorians. "Married ?"

           "You didn't respect the custom ? You didn't exchange your vows ?"

           "I did !" Din replied, before sounded less sure. "Well, I said my vows. After courting her, showing her that I would be a good partner. She accepted them."

           "Obviously she doesn't know what she accepted."

           "I... Cyare, you...  Haar'chak !"

He kicked a crate before leaving the forge, leaving the Armourer, Y/N and Grogu, who ran towards her, asking to be hug.

As if everything was perfectly normal, the other Mandalorian resumed her work in silence, finishing melting the Beskar, but as Y/N went to follow Din, she called out to her without looking.

           "Leave him alone for a moment. He needs to understand his mistake, then he'll come back. He's not a coward or he wouldn't be a Mandalorian."

           "He really thought we were married ?"

           "Obviously. But if he wasn't clear, it's his fault. He won't blame you for not understanding, and for not wanting him."

           "... I didn't say I didn't want him."

           "Ah. Then maybe you two should talk. Leave the child with me, I'll watch him."

Y/N didn't dare tell her that Grogu was very good at evading people if he felt like it, but she left him near the Armourer before going to find Din, who was sulking near a cliff. His helmet was at his feet and yet it was hard to know if he was happy to see her.

           "...Trikayc, cyare. Sorry." he whispered. "I'm not good with words, I thought my intentions were clear. You seemed to appreciate my attentions. I shouldn't have assumed…You were just kind and polite. I'm sorry."

           "Actually... I also thought you were just nice and polite. If you had translated some of the words... Or if you had kissed me."

           "Mesh'la... You mean..."

           "Why didn't you ever kiss me, if we're married ?"

           "What ? But I kiss you all the time !"

Approaching her to prove it to her before she could tell him that she would remember if he had ever kissed her, and if he had done it when she was sleeping it didn't count and would be very weird, Din leaned his forehead against hers, looking her straight in the eyes.

Then he didn't move, looking very serious.

           "…Yes ? I'm waiting ?" decided to say Y/N after a long minute.

           "It's a Mandalorian kiss."

           "...Oh. Din, you're adorable. An adorable idiot."

Y/N kissed him then, not like a Mandalorian, and obviously it was the first time someone kissed the poor man, who jumped a little, before relaxing, melting a little when she put her hands on his cheek and neck.

           "Kriff, if I had known, I would have done this a long time ago."

           "In addition to the rest." Y/N sneered. "Even if it's a little hard in bed with..."

           "Pato !"

Unsurprisingly, they looked down to find Grogu standing between them, clutching his father's leg, demanding to be lifted.

Either he had escaped the Armourer's watch or she had let him go.

Despite his sigh, Y/N knew that Din was happy as he took the child in his arms. Grogu squealed with delight as she fiddled with his ear. He was smart, he knew they had finally stopped acting like idiots.

           "So I'm his bure ?"

           "Buire. His mother. Or relative."

           "Riduur ?"

           "My wife. Partner."

           "Cyare ? Mesh'la ?"

           "It's time to go."

           "Din !"

           "I'll teach you Mando'a, later."

After greeting the Armourer, who seemed relieved that they were indeed married, otherwise Din would have become an apostate, they flew to a new destination. During the trip, when Grogu was sleeping, Din explained his culture a little better to Y/N, teaching her a few words, when she wasn't teaching him new non-verbal ways to show that he loved her in the cockpit.

While they were embracing, he translated to her the vows he had pronounced during their 'wedding'.

           “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.”

           "That's terribly romantic... Wait. Raise warriors ?"

           "Yes. We already have a child of course, but one day he could have vodes and..."

           "Vodes ?"

           "... Brothers and sisters ?" Din said shyly, placing his hand on her belly. "If you want, of course !"

Yes, the Mandalorian was a man of honour. A good man, a wonderful father, an exceptional husband, and an adorably awkward lover, and Y/N had known it as soon as she had met him.

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three - Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty: Guns for Hire

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers and a heavy role to bear. Now reunited their journeys across the galaxy are just beginning to complete their final mission.

Word Count: 7K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: fighting/violence, injuries, some wholesome moments, father-daughter moments

------

Dawn covers Nevarro as the covert surrounds the Gauntlet as you give your final goodbyes. The Armorer speaks to Bo-Katan and Din with Grogu in his pram by the bounty hunter’s side. You spot amongst the crowd the copper and white Mandalorian as he moves forward and you pull away the group as you stand in front of Kaz.

“I guess this is goodbye…I wish you could come.” You say your foot kicking at the rocks as he nods wishing that could be true.

“You’ll come back soon. With many Mandalorians then we can return home.” He says trying to think on the bright side you nod feeling your throat tighten up and your eyes burn. You fling your arms around his shoulders as he accepts your embrace your head buried in his neck as he holds your head close to him the other around your lower back. “Oh mesh’la I’ll see you soon.” He whispers in your ear as you try to remember this feeling. You pull back his hand cupping your cheek and wiping away a stray tear. A bunch of sad beeps comes from below looking down as R4 bumps against Kaz sad to leave as well. You both chuckle sadness in your voice as he rubs the droid’s head.

“I’ll miss you too R4.” He says and the droid nuzzles itself against his leg. Your gazes meet as he leans forward his helmet meeting your forehead as your eyes close accepting the Mandalorian kiss. You knew the others could see this but you didn’t care it was your life. “I’ll miss you mesh’la.” He whispers and you feel the affection and adoration in his words. You nod wordlessly if you speak you were sure to break. 

“You watch my ship you hear me..?” You say and he chuckles, his laughter a melody as you reluctantly have to pull back. “I promise not to take it on a joyride.” He jests and you give a sad smile trying to take him all in before you have no choice but to turn R4 following beside you as you return to the adults. Din and Bo-Katan were silent having seen the whole display and while Din wanted to shelter you from the world he knew he couldn’t take away this one moment of happiness. The protective father in him was afraid to see his little girl grow up but he had no choice but to watch her mature, fall in love, and soon she would leave to live her life.

The Armorer looks over at the four of you nodding, “Good luck on your journey.” She says and you all nod and before you know it your boarding the gauntlet and leaving Nevarro off to find these other Mandalorians. You were heading to Plazir-15 where the supposed remaining Mandalorians that were once Bo-Katan’s were off to. Entering the atmosphere see the large plains of grass as you that was covered in large domes that reminded you of the destroyed planet of Mandalore.

“There they are,” Bo-Katan comments and you see out the window seeing the large fleet station outside the city in an open clearing, the light cruiser with multiple other ships. “That’s quite a fleet.” Din comments and Bo-Katan nods,

“It took me a long time to assemble it. Most of it was captured from the Empire.” 

“I knew they looked familiar. Could come in real handy taking back Mandalore.” Din says and the female Mandalorian is silent, “Axe Woves is their leader now. It’s going to take some convincing to get them to join us.”

“I wonder what they’re here for?” You ask why such a large fleet would be on this kind of planet, “This planet isn’t on the New Republic Registry, so I’d guess it’s an independent world that hired them for protection.” Bo-Katan gives her best guess.

“Can’t imagine Woves will be happy to see you.” Din brings up the possible bad blood.

“Yeah….I’ll land outside the fleet’s perimeter. It’s probably best if we go in on foot.” She says when a fanfare fills the ship, “Welcome to Plazir-15. The Outer Rim’s only remaining direct democracy,” A voice comms through on the comms, “You’ve been assigned a docking slip. You will be guided on the assigned path. Engaging automated guidance.” The ship suddenly jolts as Bo-Katan lifts her hands seeing the controls being to move by themselves.

“What happened?” You ask as she huffs, “They’ve taken control of the ship. I guess we’re going for a ride.” Soon you land on your assigned docking and walk down the ramp seeing two imperial droids and the air is suddenly tense.

“Welcome to Plazir-15. Please proceed to your hyperloop pod,” The protocol droid directs you to the hyperpod. You four walk past the droids R5 staying on the ship with R4 joining you.

“Why do they have Imperial droids on an independent world?” Din whispers to Bo-Katan who shrugs, “It’s the Outer Rim. Your guess is as good as mine.” Entering the pod Grogu sitting next to Bo-Katan and you next to Din R4 in the middle as the doors hiss close.

“Bring us to the bay closest to the Mandalorian fleet.” Bo-Katan asks the pod as a female voice on the P.A. comes through, “As per Article Nine of the Coruscant Accords, permission must be granted from High Senate for access to self-defense forces in the peacekeeping zone. Do you grant permission to scan your chain code?” Bo-Katan and Din hold out their vambraces producing a chain code and R4 reveals your chain code from his system. Three beeps fill the air as it scans your codes.

“Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze, and Y/n Kenobi-Kryze. Your presence has been requested by the leadership of the planetary democracy…” It responds and Bo-Katan shakes her head, “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters. Perhaps at a later time.”

“Please do not attempt to leave the vehicle. This is not a request.” The automated system ignores her request and you're sent speeding toward the opulent and shining city.

“I’ve never been here before. Have you?” Bo-Katan asks and you both shake your head, “I haven’t even heard of it.”

“Do you think we’re gonna have to blast our way out of here?” You ask looking at the city passing by quickly as you draw closer, “We’ll find out.” The pod jolts to a stop and the five of you exit hearing the sound of light music, before a large banquet at the end of the table a couple dressed extravagantly with patrons all around. The room goes silent before the man stands waving you over,

“Join us! Come! It’s a party,” He lets a booming laugh as the guest join in as well, “Come! Everyone, special guests. Mandalorians and a Jedi.” You felt like entertainment as the guest ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ as you make your way to three already placed chairs beside the decorated man.

“I hope you like secretions. Take a little sip-sip. Come, please.” The three of you take a seat in between Bo-Katan and Din with Gorgu still in his hovering pram. The man with a large salt-and-pepper beard turns to the gorgeous woman next to him,

“Honey. Do you love me?” He asks in a sing-song voice as the woman laughs cupping his cheek, “Oh, my goodness. Yes, I do.” She repeats the same melodic tone as the both of them laugh.

The man turns to face you three holding his hand together as he introduces himself, “Let’s address the bantha in the room. I was once a facilities planning officer during the war. And thanks to the New Republic Amnesty Program, I was able to help rebuild Plazir-15.”

“You were Imperial?” Din asks and the woman rests her hand on Bombardier’s, “He was. Plazir suffered greatly under Imperial rule. My husband came here as part of his rehabilitation. He oversaw the rebuilding of this planet on which my family served as nobility since it was originally settled, and…we fell in love.” She says dreamily as her husband grins pressing a kiss to her knuckles,

“We fell in love. We did fall in love.” The two of them laugh and the Duchess’ eyes land on Grogu, “Could I perhaps hold the baby? Please?”

You both look at Gorgu as he coos Din speaking up, “He doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” The Duchess holds a small piece of fish making kissing noises and Grogu jumps out of his pram landing in her arms, “You are so fast. Yes.” Din sighs seeing the child being coddled

“You see, it was time for our planet to move into a new age. We held direct democratic elections for the first time in our history. We are both royals and elected leaders.

“And the Mandalorian privateer warships docked in your fields?” You ask and the Duchess looks over at you, “Oh, we hire them for protection. Our charter forbids us from having a military because of my husband’s Imperial past.” Bombardier nods,

“But because of this, all of our resources go to growth and the people.”

“I’d like to speak to these “privateers.” Bo-Katan asks and the Duchess nods, “That can be arranged. There is just one condition.”

“What?” Bo-Katan asks and the couple looks at each other before rising to stand avoiding the question, “You really must see the view. Right this way.” The Duchess gestures to the balcony as you all rise to stand and the festivities grow silent.

“We’ll just be a moment. Enjoy your meal, and don’t get up. Let’s show our guests the view.” Bombardier says charismatically to his citizens and they quickly return to the banquet as you’re led outside.

“We have a problem.” Bombardier says dropping the persona once away from the people, “Yes?” You say a bit confused.

“A droid problem.” The Duchess says and Din stiffens slightly before asking, “What kind of droid problem?”

“Malfunction.” Bombardier says and his wife cuts in, “A coordinated malfunction.” “We think.”

“What makes you think that?” Din says crossing his arms as the couple looks concerned.

“The planet’s Imperial droids were reprogrammed for peace.” The Duchess explains, “I personally oversaw the program. I can assure you they were completely rehabilitated for peaceful purposes. Exclusively.” Bombardier defends his work.

“We thought.” The Duchess says and Bombardier grabs his wife's hand, “They were, my love, I personally oversaw the program.”

“What kind of malfunction?” Din asks wanting to get to the bottom of it.

“I mean, nothing too serious at first. Unexpected power cycles. Deleted task stacks.” Captain Bombardier explains, “Then it got worse.”  The Duchess adds and her husband winces continuing,

“Traffic accidents. Heavy equipment failures leading to injury…Assault.”

“Assault?” You say surprised droids that were reprogrammed were causing this, “Respectfully, what does this have to do with us?” Bo-Katan asks.

“Our constables are ill-equipped to confront battle droids.” The nobles explain and it adds a whole new layer hearing the droids were imperial battle droids.

“Battle droids?” Din says coldly.

“Uh-uh-uh-uh. Former battle droids. They’ve been rehabilitated for civic duty.” Bombardier tries defending but his wife shakes her head, “We thought.”

“They were.” “Obviously not.” The two argue before Bo-Katan cuts them off, “The Mandalorian garrison outside your city walls can make quick work of your battle droids.” 

“That’s just it.” The Duchess says and you tilt your head, “What?”

“Our charter forbids any standing army from entering our city. Our constables aren’t even allowed to carry blasters.” The Duchess explains.

“But you allowed us to be armed.” Din points out and the nobles nod,

“Exactly. The people have voted that we are a pluralistic society,” Bombardier explains, “You are Mandalorians. Weaponry and armor are intrinsic to your culture, are they not?”

“They are.” Din says and Bombardier turns to you, “And you are a Jedi. Your kind was once soldiers during the Clone Wars but are meant to be keepers of the peace.” You nod hesitantly.

“That’s right.” You agree, you wouldn’t call yourself a soldier and definitely not a keeper of the peace as you’ve been described twice. But you didn’t know from history that Jedi were once meant to uphold peace across the galaxy before they became soldiers during the Clone Wars.

“You see where we’re going here?” Bombardier says gesturing with his hand trying to get you to understand, “You want us to eliminate your droid problem.” Bo-Katan comments.

“Exactly.” Bombardier snaps his fingers, “I knew you would help us.” The Duchess thanks you three before you even made a decision.

“Hold on there, Your Majesty. We didn’t agree to help you.” Bo-Katan holds her hand up and the Duchess steps forward, “Please, Princess Kryze. Your Grace.” She begs and Bo-Katan shakes her head.

“This is not intended to be a work of charity. Unlike my brethren outside your city walls, I am not a mercenary. Apologies if that is the impression I gave.”

“What I intended to convey is that I would hope that this “excursion” would be viewed as an act of diplomacy between our two planets,” Bombardier offers, “In fact, Plazir-15 would formally recognize Mandalore as a sovereign system and petition the New Republic to recognize it as such.”

“The mercenary captain, Axe Woves, indicated that he split from you because you had designs on ruling Mandalore once again.” The Duchess brings up the relationship between Bo-Katan and Woves. “Those plans have been abandoned,” Bo-Katan says harshly.

“The offer stands nonetheless.” The Duchess says as Kryze you two, “What do you think?”

“You had me at battle droids.” Din says and you nod, “Let’s get going.”

Before you could head off to begin your ‘excursion’ Bombardier stops you, “Wait Princess,” Three look back seeing him looking at you, “Do you mind showing your weapon? The Jedi are known for their craftsmanship for their lightsabers.” He asks and you are silent as he begs the Duchess looks excited to see the weapon and some of the guests are watching. You sigh feeling like a performer as you pull your saber from your belt and with a flick of your wrist the brilliant orange saber illuminates the room. The guest applauds in awe of the weapon as you wave it around with a deadpan expression wanting it over with.

“The hilt is beautiful this metal I’ve never seen before?” Bombardier examines the marbling of the hilt from his view as you retract the blade attaching the saber to your belt, “It’s beskar.” You say before you rejoin Bo-Katan and Din and you frown.

“I felt like a circus animal,” You sigh as R4 follows after you three Grogu staying with the Duchess and the Captian.

“These droids were all reprogrammed to serve the community from the stockpile of captured Imperial robotics scheduled to be scrapped at Karthon,” Inside the command center you met Commisoner Helgait as he stands in front of a large control table, the walls lined with screens showing security footage, “The droid’s reprogramming was a complete success, until one day, an isolated event…”

You watch on the screen a garbage droid pick up trash before violently flinging it around before leaving the mess, “Then others,” You see a B1 battle droid begin to throw around shopping goods as its owner looks horrified, “This is just a small collection of malfunctions that our security cameras caught.” You see the landspeeder controlled by a driver droid crash into a window as the crowd exclaims then in a restaurant the cook droid begins wielding knives quite viciously swinging them around as the patrons scream running away.

“Turn them off.” Bo-Katan suggests and Helgait looks over at her, “What?”

“Why not turn them all off? Who’s in charge of that?” She asks and Helgait points at himself, “I am. There’s a failsafe cutoff switch built into the system. However…” He shows the large red button before he pauses and you look at him,

“What?” You ask and he looks over at you, “The citizens voted against any interruption in droid services. They can’t live without it.” He laughs and Din crosses his arms,

“And why’s that?”

“The citizens are no longer required to work and can spend their days engaging in recreation, the arts, and participating in our direct democracy. If we shut down the droids,” He laughs at the idea, “Our citizens wouldn’t know how to survive. Our society would collapse.”

“Then what do you want from us?” Bo-Katan asks, “To seek out and decommission any remaining rogue droids, until we can fix the problem.” Helgait explains the female Mandalorian sighs holding out her hand, “Give us the list.”

“Well, for that, you’ll have to go to the lower level and speak to the Ugnaughts.” Helgait explains and you perk up hearing the familiar creature, “Ugnaughts?” Bo-Katan asks confused and Helgiat nods,

“Ugnaughts.”

Descending into the lower levels on a turbolift Din leaning against the glass wall, “See what happens when you rely on droids?” He says with malice and Bo-Katan looks over at him,

“Are you taking this personally?” She asks and he shrugs, “Just pointing it out.”

Bo-Katan sighs as the lift reaches the level of the Ugnaughts, “Let’s just finish this so we can be on our way.” Entering the workshop the Ugnaughts busy working on various droids that they seem to not even notice your presence

“I am Bo-Katan Kryze. Which one of you is in charge?” She calls out and they don’t even spare her a glance, “We were sent on behalf of The Dutchess and Captain Bombardier to help you with your droid problem. Hello?” She steps back looking at the two of you, “This is going nowhere.”

Din steps forward looking at all of them working, “I am Mandalorian Din Djarin, friend of Ugnaught Kuiil. You will answer our questions and help us with our task. I have spoken.” His wording draws the attention of all the Ugnaughts as they stop working and you find yourself at a table with some refreshments, “Thank you for your hospitality and for sharing your table with us. We were engaged to hunt down and eliminate the malfunctioning droids.” Din thanks them

“There are no such droids.” The head Ugnaught states with a shake of his head.

“You may not have heard the news down here, but your droids are wreaking havoc in the world above.” Bo-Katan comments and that seems to draw a reaction out of the Ugnaughts, “There is not much of which we are not aware. These halls are the central nervous system of the city. I assure you, the droids are not malfunctioning.”

“Citizens have been harmed by these malfunctioning machines.” She retorts and The Ugnaught places his drink harshly on the table, “This is not the case. I have spoken.”

“We’re not in any way suggesting that your work is to blame. The stories of Ugnaughts’ skill with smithing droids are legendary,” Din says doing damage control, “We know that Ugnaughts are considered the hardest-working species in the galaxy. We, like you, have been engaged with a task to perform. We will investigate the dangerous incidents. We would appreciate your help.” He pleads and the chief Ugnaught turns speaking to another one before they face you again now holding a disc

“Here are the locations of the droids you seek.” Din accepts the item gratefully with a nod as the three of you stand, “Thank you. We are in your debt. I have spoken.”

Leaving the lower levels the three of you plus R4 find yourself in a hyperloop pod and Bo-Katan looks over at Din, “What was that?”

“I’ve spent time with Ugnaughts. There’s a particular way to communicate with them. Accusing their work of malfunctioning is an insult.” Din explains and your heart aches slightly remembering Kuill and his sacrifice for your and Grogu’s lives, “Now, they’ve indicated that there’s a likelihood that the next event will be at the loading docks.” Din says looking over the disc holding the location of any malfunctioning droids.

“How sure are they?” Bo-Katan asks and Din shrugs, “Hard to tell. Ugnaughts always seem sure of themselves.” You and Bo-Katan chuckle slightly as you arrive at your location,

“Well, it’s the only lead we’ve got so we might as well have a look around.” She says as you exit the pod at the loading docks. The mechanical footsteps as you come down a ramp seeing repurposed B2 battle droids loading boxes of cargo. You can feel the anxiety coming from Din.

���I haven’t seen battle droids since the Clone Wars.” Bo-Katan says slightly in awe, “I have.” Din says coldly as you draw closer.

“Any of ’em look suspicious?” You ask trying to spot the possible rouge droid.

“They all look suspicious.” Din comments and suddenly a B1 battle droid foreman appears before you, “Halt. This is a restricted area. You are to vacate immediately.”

“We have a few questions,” Bo-Katan says and you see Din move over watching the fleet of B2 droids working.

“Show me your identification please.” The foreman holds his hand out.

“We’re here on behalf of The Dutchess to investigate the droid malfunctions.” You explain and the droid nods still not approving of your appearance, “Yes, I saw the reports. Rest assured, I’ve had the entire line of loaders undergo maintenance protocols as a safety measure. The uh, certification is on file.”

You all look over seeing Din wave his hand in front of one of the droids but it continuing working, “Uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The foreman calls out as Din looks at another one.

“Why’s that?” He says and the foreman looks slightly nervous by Din harassing the droids but they seem to make no reaction, “As a precaution. Their base function was warfare.”

“I thought they were just checked out,” Din comments then kick another droid as it stumbles while holding the cargo but it regains balance and continues working. “They were. Uh, what are you doing?

“Then this shouldn’t faze them.” Din says kicking another droid as the foreman calls out to him, “Uh, sir? Excuse me! Excuse me! Sir!” Din kicks another droid as it falls over on its side knocking the crate out of its hand. Suddenly the droid swings its arm out hitting Din sending him to the ground then runs away as Din pushes himself to stand.

“Re-certified, huh?” Din huffs as the foreman looks at him, “You should have left them alone.”

The three of you book it after him R4 on your heels as it knocks a bunch of pipes over and you slide under them before they hit the ground ahead of Din and Bo-Katan as you exit hitting a crowded street. You see the droid grab a crate and hurl it toward the three of you. The crowd yells and you whip out your saber the howl of the orange blade as it slices through the crate it avoiding hitting the three of you as you continue your pursuit.

The B2 droid jumps onto the front of a moving landspeeder as it screeches to a stop, it grabs a power unit chucking it at you. Din pulls you out of its path before it could flatten you. You three continue after it before R4 appears beside you telling you an alternate path, “Keep going!” You yell before turning down an alleyway and running inside a bar. Dodging a waiter as you rush through the restaurant patrons let out surprised noises seeing a person run through the establishment. You spot the droid appearing before a window and you push up on a table diving through the window and landing on it. Glass litters the ground as you swing your saber out it dodging the droid suited for war swings a metal fist catching you in the face. Your saber is sent flying out of your grasp as you crash to the ground. It advances on you and before you could whip the Darksaber out two shots fill the air before the droid drops to the ground dead.

You sigh seeing Bo-Katan holding her two blasters and soon Din is in front of you as constable droids arrive, “This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene.” You hiss in pain as Din’s hand touches your lip feeling it split.

“You should see the other guy,” You joke to the dead battle droid as he pulls you to your feet shards of glass falling from your body, you had some minute scratches as your saber returns to your hand with the force. Din mumbles under his breath using his cloak to wipe at your bleeding lip, “You’re so reckless you know that?”

“Scold later, I found a spark pad.” Bo-Katan says and you two turn seeing her hold up the pad from the destroyed droid, “What’s it say?” You ask as she reads the inscription,

“The Resistor.” She says and you tilt your head, “Sounds like a droid bar.” Din says and Bo-Katan chuckles flashing the small metal piece.

“And there’s an address.” Leaving the crime scene to find this address while the constable droids deal with the wrecked B2. Walking through an alley following after R4 who leads you to the address.

“Let me do the talking in there.” Bo-Katan says to Din, “Why is that?”

“Because I wanna get the information fast and get to the fleet.” Bo-Katan explains and Din nods, “So do I. What’s your point?” You hear music playing outside the multiple bars and nightclubs that seem to cover this secluded street.

“You kicking droids is really not helpful.” You pipe in and he gives you a look, “I figured out which one was malfunctioning, didn’t I?”

“You did it your way, now let me do it mine, okay? This is the address.” Bo-Katan comments as you enter the building. Music plays as droids chatter amongst themselves with them various droid beverages. It’s dead quiet with your arrival as all the droids look over at you.

“I don’t think they get many of our kind here.” Din comments as you slowly make your way to the bar where there is a bartending droid, “Can I help you?” He asks and Bo-Katan takes charge of this investigation.

“That depends. Is this The Resistor?” She questions and the droid nods, “This is.”

Bo-Katan places the spark pad from the B2 on the bar and the bartender picks it up examining it, “That spark pad was found on a rogue battle droid.”

“We give out lots of spark pads. What are you getting at? The bartender says returning the spark pad and Bo-Katan leans forward pointing at the bartop, “There has been a string of malfunctions that all point to this oil can.”

“You can check my registry. We are in full compliance with Planetary Hierarchical-” “If you don’t start answering questions, I’ll yank your memory circuit and dissect it back at the lab.” Din grabs a tool that sparks electricity aiming it at the droid's face as it is silent you and Bo-Katan look at Din. You see from the corner of your eye a blue protocol droid trying to leave.

“Nobody leaves.” He orders and everyone in the bar is frozen, Bo-Katan grabs his shoulder pulling him, “A word?” Din lets himself be pulled before glaring at the bartender, “Stay where I can see you.” Joining the small huddle Bo-Katan whisper-shouts at him.

“What are you doing?” Din rolls his eyes and you see the movement in his helmet, “You’re wasting your time. You can’t reason with droids.”

“Din, their behavior is programmed. All they do is reason.” You stress but the bounty hunter wasn’t convinced, “They’re also programmed not to harm organics. How’s that going?” He retorts and Bo-Katan pinches the bridge of her nose,

“Look, you are not helping. Just because the malfunctioning droids happen to visit here doesn’t mean that this one is in on it.” She says, “I want to help.” The bartender offers.

“You want me to pull your hearing sensors too?” Din snaps back and you glare at the older man, “Din!”

“We are worried that if these horrible incidents continue, we will be…” The bartender explains before growing silent, “You’ll be what?” Din presses still suspicious.

“There are concerns among my customers that we will be replaced.” The owner explains. “By what?” You ask.

“Humans,” The droid says, “Most of us have been refurbished and reprogrammed. Some droids on Plazir date back to the Separatists. The New Republic would send them to scrap. But here on Plazir, they are given a second chance.”

“Well, these catastrophes don’t help your argument.” Diin retorts and the droid nods, “Exactly. That’s why we need your help. We don’t want to be replaced. We still have a lot to contribute. Human life is so short. They don’t ask that much of us. Organics created us. It’s the least we can do.” Suddenly the droids around you beep in unison agreeing with the bartender’s statement. R4 beeps too bumping against your leg and you pat the atsromech’s head. You’re led to the back office as the bartender droid sits at a desk.

“Do you have a record of what each of the suspects ordered?” Bo-Katan asks and the droid shakes its head “That is not how it works here. There is no selection of beverages as with organics. Here, droids are served Nepenthé.”

“What’s Nepenthé?” You ask the bartender as they pull out a box full of spark pads while flipping through them. “It is a viscous lubricant that protects against mechanical wear while delivering program-refreshing sub-particles.”

“So Nepenthé reprograms the droids that drink here?” You ask thinking you understand, “It patches the programming as the commands of the mainframe change.” Finding the multiple malfunctioned spark pads and scanning them.

“It seems the malfunctioning droids all imbibed from the same batch of Nepenthé.” It observes and the three of you look at each other.

Inside a morgue that was for the malfunctioning droid, the female lab tech opens a drawer revealing the destroyed B2, “These are the remains of the latest malfunctioning droid.” The lab tech withdraws the oil from its system before moving to a larger machine.

“We’re looking for programming sub-particles.” Bo-Katan asks and the woman nods placing the vial into the machine, “Yes. Let me isolate them.” The machine starts spinning as the data beings loading,

“All right, let’s see if they give us a reading. The particles are definitely present.”

“What are the chances that they’re still active?” You ask and suddenly you’re shoved behind a wall by Din as Bo-Katan pulls the lab tech to the ground, “Get down!” The white spherical lab droid spins violently attacking you all with its laser blasters.

“Watch out!” You say to Din unleashing your saber and throwing it at the droid it splits in half the blade returning to your hand as you all try catching your breaths from the sudden attack “They’re still active.” You breathe out as you look at the sparking lab droid. Following the incident, the lab tech brings a small sample of the oil under a microscope,

“These are the sub-particles.” She says before pausing, “Curious…”

“What?” You ask as you see on a screen what the tech was viewing, “They’re actually nano-droids.”

“How did nano-droids get into the Nepenthé?” Bo-Katan asks before you spot some markings on the droids, “What’s that?” You point at the screen, “The striations? Just an aberration in the metal. Probably malleability limitations at this scale.”

“No. It’s writing…” Bo-Katan says and you all notice the few lettering, “Rotate the perspective.” She asks and the lab tech rotates it once analyzed you see the writing, “It’s a chain code.”

“If it has a chain code, then we should be able to determine its point of origin.” You say and the lab tech nods checking out the chain code, “In theory. Let me see what I can find out…Yes, here we are. They were originally manufactured by the Techno Union. Been in cold storage for ages. The chain title says it didn’t arrive on Plazir through Droid Acquisitions. How strange…”

“How did it arrive?” Din asks as the lab tech dives deeper into the chain code, “They were requisitioned by the Security Office.”

“Is that unusual?” You ask and the woman looks back at the three of you, “It’s illegal. There’s no record of this transaction on the government registry. These droids were ordered by an individual.”

“Is there a name?” Bo-Katan asks and the chain code reveals who purchased it.

“Our head of security. Commissioner Helgait.”

You returned to the security office to capture your perpetrator exiting the turbolift seeing Halgait working away on the large console, “Check the cycles of security cameras for any potential irregularities.”

“Commissioner, we have some questions for you.” Bo-Katan calls out as the three of you move towards the man who waves you off, “Sorry, I have to check the data farm for anomalies.”

“We know about the Nepenthé. And the nano-droids. They didn’t malfunction.” Din says, “You programmed them to disrupt and attack. You’re coming with us.” Bo-Katan tells him walking towards him when his hand hovers over the large failsafe button,

“Everyone, freeze! If I trigger this failsafe, it will convert the planet’s docile workforce back into battle droids and unleash them upon the unsuspecting citizens of Plazir! Don’t make me do it.” He yells as Din and Bo-Katan aim their blasters at the man, “There’s no way out, Commissioner. Give yourself up.”

“Give up? I never give up. I didn’t give up to the corrupt Republic, I didn’t give up to the Empire, and I won’t give up to you.” Helgait spits and Bo-Katan frowns, “You’re a Separatist?”

“Separatist is a pejorative term,” Helgait shrugs, “I support democracy. Count Dooku was a visionary. He was cut short in his prime by the Jedi enforcer-” A sharp jab across the back of his skull and Helgait collapses to the ground. Standing behind him is yourself lowering the hilt of your saber. Everyone in the room looks shocked not even seeing you move, even Din and Bo-Katan knowing you were right beside them. Looking at where you stood only see R4.

“Politics.” You say shrugging as Helgait groans in pain. Returning to the festivities with Helgait in tow the Duchess and Captain Bombardier look at the Commissioner confused,

“What are you doing with Commissioner Helgait?” The Duchess questions as Din pushes the man forward, “We found the cause of your malfunctions.”

“Is this true?” The Duchess demands shocked and Helgait nods solemnly, “I’m afraid it is m’lady.”

“Despicable.” Bombardier scoffs and Helgait glares at him, “If that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” “I beg your pardon.”

“This planet is unrecognizable since he arrived.” Helgait blames the Captain as he breathes deeply, “I had a feeling you hated me.” 

“I’m disappointed in you, Commissioner. You served my family well,” The Duchess says before returning to her husband’s side, “But Captain Bombardier is the love of my life. And I know his heart is true. Sure, he’s made some mistakes in the past, but who here among us has not? Is there no room for a little bit of forgiveness in a galaxy so vast?” Helgait looks distraught bowing his head in forgiveness,

“I am sorry to have disappointed you, My Lady. Perhaps someday I can earn such forgiveness from Your Grace.” He begs and the Duchess frowns, “Perhaps. As for now, you must live in exile on the moon of Paraqaat.” A squad of constable droids escorts Helgait away.

The Duchess turns back to the three of you “And as for you, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, Lady Y/n Kenobi-Kryze, and Din Djarin of Concordia, I grant you an audience with our deployment of Mandalorian privateers,” She turns and grabs an item stepping towards Bo-Katan, “I also give to you both our highest honor, the key to Plazir. You will always be welcome in our domed paradise.” Bo-Katan accepts the gift graciously the three of you bowing to them.

She places Grogu on the ground and then to you, “Come young jedi,” You are a bit surprised before coming forward, “And to this little ones, I grant knighthood.” Your eyes widen slightly as you slowly bend to a knee.

The Duchess is given an elaborate blade, “You are now a knight of the Ancient Order of Independent Regencies.” She says to Grogu before moving to you placing the blade against each of your shoulders, “Though your trials of a jedi are not complete young jedi you will always be a knight in the eyes of Plazir.” You bow your head slightly as Din comes over picking up Grogu, “Go in peace, brave travelers. Until our paths meet again.” You four bid goodbyes and soon you find yourself back in the hyperloop pod.

“Now approaching landing field three.” The automated voice says as your sent zooming toward the fleet. Bo-Katan is silent looking out the window, “They’re Mandalorians. You’re their leader. They’re going to follow you.” Din speaks up and Bo-Katan shakes her head,

“I’m not their leader anymore. Axe Woves is.” You look over at the woman, “Then what’s your play?” You ask and she grows silent once again, “I’ll know when I get there.” Reaching their landing field is a bit of a walk before you come to the fleet, it was impressive the light cruiser and the imperial ships as well. You thought you’d seen a lot of Mandalorians from the covert this was twice as many. The Mandalorians under Woves command grow silent seeing the four of you arrive. You spot Woves sitting on a crate when he spots Bo-Katan as he rises to stand.

“Have you come back to join the mercenaries?” He calls out and Bo-Katan steps forward, “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet.”

“It’s no longer your fleet, is it? I’m now in command and grown quite fond of it.” Woves counters and Bo-Katan nods, “Then I challenge you, one warrior to another. Do you accept my challenge?” It’s silent as you wait for his response,

“I do.”

Woves fire a wrist rocket but Bo-Katan activates her jetpack sending her into the air and charging at Woves, knocking him to the ground with a kick. The two flips over both vibroblades are brought out as they swipe and slash at one another. Bo-Katan seems to get the advantage on Woves throwing him to the ground and disarming his blade. Woves rise charging at the woman with his jetpack the two are sent into the air ramming into a starship. Fists are thrown when Woves catches a fierce punch against her sending her to the floor. Bo-Katan charges him with her jetpack increasing her speed and pulling him into a headlock, “Do you yield?” With a yell, he rockets them on top of a starship. It’s brutal and vicious as they fight when Bo-Katan drags them down to the ground with a whipcord launcher. Woves sends a wave of flames but she blocks the blast with her personal combat shield. Bo-Katan gets the final advantage pinning him to the ground and holding him a knife point

“You’ll never be the true leader of our people. You won’t even take the Darksaber from her. She’s the one you should be challenging.” Woves says his words filled with venom as Bo-Katan presses the blade closer to his neck shaking him, “Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands.” She hisses before releasing him sparing him but is the victor.

“Mandalorians are stronger together.” Bo-Katan speaks to Woves’ followers as Woves rises to stand, “But a child possesses the blade. Followed by a misguided zealot. One, I might add, who has not one drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.” His words are filled with venom and your blood boils your hand moves to your saber but Din rests a hand on your shoulder calming you down.

“Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the Way, just as our ancestors did,” Bo-Katan defends him, “He is every bit the Mandalorian that they were. Certainly as much as any of us. For Y/n she will be a rightful ruler for Mandalore better than any of us.” You hear the slight pain in her voice and you felt uncomfortable having their eyes on you seeing their young ruler. You were probably the youngest wielder of the Darksaber many adults with much more experience in life than you have. If Bo-Katan meant to control the fleet you would be ruling over this and more. Your hand rest on the Darksaber feeling the weight on your hip, the responsibility too much for someone like you.

“But according to our ways, the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber.” Woves retorts and Bo-Katan grows silent her weak hand shown. Without the Darksaber she would not fully have their support. The old memories returning now reveal the truth of the true owner of the blade.

“Then she shall have it,” You call out moving towards the woman holding out the hilt, “This belongs to you.”

“It’s not a gift to be given, no matter how well intended.” Bo-Katan shakes her head, she was already gifted the saber once and that led to the fall of their homeworld. “It’s not a gift,” You say before turning to the other Mandalorians

“While exploring Mandalore, I was captured. And this blade was taken from me. Bo-Katan rescued me and slayed my captor. She defeated the enemy that defeated me. Would this blade then not belong to her?” You explain looking at them who remain silent before raising your voice, “Would it not belong to her?”

Woves is silent before nodding having no choice but to agree, “It would.” You move to stand before Bo-Katan holding out the hilt of the weapon, “I return this blade to its rightful owner.” She looks down at you as you hold out the weapon.

“You could still rule Mandalore…” She whispers but you shake your head, “That’s not the life I was meant to live.” You respond and she takes the weapon as you rejoin Din’s side. You watch her look at the weapon before activating it in the presence of the Mandalorians. You had your ruler of Mandalore, you were all going home.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three #clan of three series #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din x reader #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader

[zeb-z]

I am absolutely positively losing it at how Bo Katan drops the ball so hard. I was prepared for her to be more of an obstacle in the face of Din having the Darksaber, for her to be petty and reluctant to give up any form of leadership she has having gathered the Mandalorians - but she really sat on that throne and gave us nothing.

It’s so Bo Katan to be such a disappointment. To go against what she claims her morals to be. If she really wanted the Mandalorian people to be reunited, for Mandalore to be reclaimed, she wouldn’t have just given up upon not getting the Darksaber. She wouldn’t be turning away anyone who still wants to join the cause of reclaiming their planet. She wouldn’t have given up at such a roadblock if she had really cared for her people and her culture.

Bo tells Din to retake Mandalore and lead them himself, as if there’s no greater joke. Wave that thing around, they’ll do whatever you say. And when he asks if she’s given up, she lashes out. Sits there and says his people gave up long before the purge, how his cult fractured their people, how his beliefs are a joke. How he’s a fool to go to a planet that’s so destroyed it’s hopeless, and he calls her out. I thought you said the curse was a lie, make up your mind.

She only uses ‘our’ when she says ‘our people’ to continue to insult him, accuse him of what she’s done before, what she’s doing now - failing their people. Scattering the Mandalorians. She picks and chooses what traditions and cultures of her people to take to heart based on convenience. She’s not loyal to her people but to her own ideals and power.

This is why Din Djarin has always been and always will be a better leader and representation of the Mandalorians. The way he follows has always been about protecting his clan and himself, but when his tradition is put against saving his child, he saves his child and would do so over and over again. Yet he still wants to atone because the respect of his people is important to him. Versus Bo Katan, who does not care enough about her people to even consider trying to bring them together without being the ruler of them all, to try and keep her people alive even if it means rethinking tradition.

To her, ruling has never been about the people of Mandalore. It has never been about reuniting their people who survived a cultural and a literal genocide. Ever since her days in Death Watch, it has never been about truly leading her people into something better. It has always been about her pride. It has always been about being right.

#bo katan really said 🤡🤡🤡 #i was waiting on someone to call her out but she really just made a fool of herself no questions asked huh #place your bets on mando finding the planet is safe enough to return his people there and then bo Katan coming in to challenge him #anyways do you think there’s any OG true mandalorians still kicking out there #because how fun would it be to get a history lesson from someone who was there for all of that shit #the new mandalorians and death watch and the cultural genocide and the actual genocide and Jaster Mereel #GOD the dream would be for a mando to compare din to jaster and promise to follow him #im a firm believer in reluctant but fair and caring ruler din djarin #sw #Star Wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #the mandalorian s3 #din djarin #bo katan kryze #tcw #the clone wars #the darksaber #z speaks

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 19: The Bloodied

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: In this time and place, as war descends, it all changes.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, Big Epic Battle, return of the Razor Crest 💙, violence, blood, passing allusion to post-traumatic stress, ho so much action, and so much lore bullshitting just go with me here.

A/N: The walker described in this isn’t any specific canon version. Somewhere between an AT-AT and an AT-ST let’s say. I dunno, picture whatever you want. Thanks for reading!

--

The room fills for the final muster. 

It’s a scene similar to the first time you’d been in here, but now you’re witnessing it from the other side. Armoured and armed soldiers file into the chamber, an audience gathering before the conflict begins. 

This time though, rather than hiding in the shadows by the forge, you’re among the congregation, seeing the Armourer up front waiting as everyone files in. You stick to the back, find yourself shuffled along a row to stand uneasily by Fennec Shand. She leans a shoulder against yours, a gesture of staunch reassurance.

We got this.

Your eyes move over the backs of many helmets, scanning until you spot him. The man you miss more than you would breathing air must have been first in here. Front and centre, Din stands with his back to you and just a little side on. From your vantage point, you can make out the edges of the familiar heat sig sensor on his helmet’s right side. You can’t see any of the T visor, so he wouldn’t spot you staring at him unless he turned full to the right.

He must know you’re in here though. Whether he cares or not, you have no clue anymore.

Over the many broad shoulders between the two of you, you can’t tell if Grogu is with him.

Still, you whisper a silent entreaty, ‘please let them both be okay…’

Footsteps and shuffling whittle down to silence. Everyone waits. The striking figure at the front of the procession pushes her shoulders back, runs a gaze across the crowd, and speaks. 

‘War is here,’ she says. ‘And we are ready.’

The room fills with the beating of wrists. You and Fennec join in, tapping your comms cuff to your new wrist guard. As the sound fades to quiet again, the honorary battle commander continues.

‘We stand on the frontlines to defend our homelands. Mandalore. Concordia. Every place Mandalorians have come together to build a future. Every place the old, dead empire has tried to take from us.’

You can tell her words are meticulously chosen, because the room swells with an earnest pride and a thrum of determined energy.

‘As the Watch,’ she continues, ‘we’ve nurtured foundlings, raised warriors, and preserved our cultures. We have long held true to the words of the Creed. And it has led us through the dark. Now, we each of us have stood in the Living Waters. By the miracle of liberating Mandalore, we grow brighter. The bonds we forge and the strength we gain from them will continue to lead us.’

‘And it is with this revival that we must learn to reach into new space. We honour the Creed, as it speaks of ourselves and our past.’

She reaches behind her and once again draws out that familiar device. The one containing the texts of the Creed, its originals, its translations. The controlling lore of the people collected here. She places it down on her table.

‘Yet we have come to learn that there is more to our ancient Way than we knew. Now we have learned that the Creed goes further. It speaks of our future. And with the royal Clan Kryze guiding us, we have the way forward to meet it.’

The air pulses like a beating heart. The flames of the forge dance across the ocean of beskar. Everyone holds.

‘Bo-Katan Kryze is our leader, and she is also our guide, it is time we followed her on the path to walk both worlds. Each and every world.’

You’re puzzling over what this reverent monologue could possibly mean – what worlds? – when the woman standing before her people does something that beats the breath from your lungs and sends dizzying electric shocks through your body.

The Armourer, the devout and steadfast leader of almost every person in this room, reaches up and – with a soft hiss that echoes over the hushed crowd – lifts her helmet up, and off. An angular face, large eyes and a wide mouth. She nestles the golden mask under an arm and watches.

It remains deathly quiet for a long, agonising stretch. 

Slowly, just one at a time, and then a few, and then everyone in the place is lifting their hands to their own faces. The air is filled with the sounds of unclasping, pressure releasing. Beskar sings against itself as removed helms are cradled and caressed in gauntleted arms.

You look side to side with eyes wide and mouth agape, in crude contrast to the stoic and steady facial expressions of those around you. The unknown features of people you’ve lived and worked with for weeks are still and focused. Like they knew. Like they were prepared.

Then you’re searching. Over the arms raising and heads shaking out hair and sweat, you strain to see it. The helmet you’d held between your own hands and the man behind it. But he’s obscured. Too far away. You’re just not tall enough. Desperate, you raise onto your toes, craning your neck over the crowd.

‘Here,’ Fennec grabs your wrist and drops to a knee. You gawk for a second but she smacks her thigh with the other hand. ‘Up,’ she mouths.

This is ridiculous but you don’t even pause. You accept her boost, grasp her shoulder and let her hoist you up above the heads of the group. Fortunately everyone is distracted, some unspoken rule that no one looks around rippling across the congregation. They all stay focused front and centre, where the Armourer looks at each and every one of her people in turn.

Not at you yet though. From the very back, toppling a little, shaking violently, you sweep your gaze over to the spot you know him to be standing.

And you see it. You see him.

Dark curls. Damp and sticking to the nape of his neck and around his right ear. 

Huh. He has dark, brown hair. The sight slots into the image you’ve tried to hold in your head all this time. The sketch you’d traced out with your hands. 

Din is holding eyes front as well. All you can see of his face is the slight edge of a sharp jawline and nose. The fuzz of a scruffy beard. Hardly enough. Not enough.

Despite yourself, knowing it to be futile, you will him to look around. Look, I’m here, Din. Please, I’m here.

But you have to drop down before the Armourer, or anyone else, spots you. Giddy and a little nauseous. The grip on your forearm tightens as Fennec stands again. She leans in.

‘See what you needed to see?’ she asks.

You just let out the breath you’d been holding, hold up a trembling hand and stare hard at it. Try to steel yourself.

You hadn’t. Not at all.

A long, high-pitched siren cuts into the reverie that had engulfed the room, sweeps across the people who had just taken a step to change forever.

The Armourer speaks, clear voice projecting to every corner of the room, ‘Go, and bring glory to Mandalore.’

The whole room moves as one, helmets going back on and everyone proceeding to their assignments. Perfect, regimented, united.

Fennec Shand claps a hand to your shoulder and peels off, going to her mission, whatever that may be. Jolted back to reality, reminded of your mission, you cast about for Ari Wren, knowing you have to follow her into whatever comes next – no matter what. You spot her helmet first as it lifts up and over her head, spy just a hint of short cropped blonde hair as the mask locks back into place. She sees you too and strides forward.

‘This way,’ she instructs, fully composed like she hadn’t just uprooted her whole identity. ‘Stick with me.’

You let her guide you, all the while still looking back over your shoulder, just trying to get one more glimpse, one more look, just one.

You don’t see him again.

The first phase of the attack is nothing more than a battle of attrition. The enemy throws waves of ground troops at the Mandalorian defences. You stick with Ari Wren, barely holding onto awareness as pure adrenaline and instinct course through your veins and grant you unimaginable speed and strength. 

‘Stay in step,’ she yells. 

Shoulder blades pressed to the hot metal of her jetpack, you move as she moves. Your footwork is doing double-time to keep up with her rapid twists and lunges, the sword and shield seemingly featherlight in her hands. Each time laser fire comes at you, she’s there – shielding and deflecting.

In turn, you incapacitate anyone that gets under her guard. The close quarters lets you take soldier after soldier by surprise, sending them screaming to the ground clutching at ruined limbs.

The two of you make your way across what’s become the battlefield, move through the acrid air and across the ash-soaked scorched earth. Smoke rising all around, you position yourselves in the anticipated trajectory of their ultimate weapon. It hasn’t emerged over the embankment yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

You remain dimly aware of the rest of the battle – cover fire soaring overhead, the other fighters moving in your forward lines, and a pitched dogfight rending the sky above. But for all the chaos that has erupted since the imp forces descended, the world may as well be you and the Mandalorian yanking you out of the path of an oncoming pulse blast.

But then disaster strikes. It’s your fault. A trooper comes at your duo wielding a bayonet-clad phase rifle, the long nasty blade on its barrel glowing red hot with energy. They lay down attack fire on approach and, as Wren deflects each shot, move in to take a swipe with the sharp, searing edge. Your companion bats it to the side. She brings her own sword around fast, but the enemy manages to parry, twisting side-on.

Seeing an opening, you duck under Wren’s extended arm and take aim at a kidney. But she wasn’t expecting it and you’ve moved under her centre of gravity. You stagger each other and the split second of imbalance is enough for your foe to rend a long slice up Wren’s outer thigh, carving a line along the outside edge of her beskar.

She falls to a knee, then slumps back with an agonised cry. The assailant squares up as you stumble to regain balance. Before you can do anything, he’s drawing his rifle up to your face.

‘N--!’ Your cry is cut off by the soldier in front of you jerking sideways, a violent twist as he drops dead to the ground. Behind him, two more troopers are sprinting toward you, weapons drawn. But again, first one then the other jolts as if struck and falls.

Whirling and twisting, scanning the perimeter, your eyes finally look up and you see it. The long barrel of a sniper rifle and the curved sights of the assassin’s helmet peak over the far ridge.

Fennec Shand.

You stare for a moment until Wren barks your name. It pulls you back and you see you’re being surrounded by a rank of attackers, all sporting savage-looking shock batons. Some are already being taken out by Fennec’s pinpoint cover fire. But if you don’t fucking move soon, you and Wren are doomed.

One of the squad lunges in to attack.

Reaching back, the gaffi stick slung across your shoulders swings free and you connect it with the on-comer’s chest plate, the slugged end caving it in and sending him flying backwards. You spin to slice the barbed spear across another’s throat, blood making a crescent streak across the air.

Fennec hits one in the knee and, as he drops, your weapon rises to meet his face. The helmet shatters and your blood roars.

One after another, you never stop rotating. Cries of pain from your weapon and grunts of shock from the impact of a rifle blast work the group circling you down to the ground.

When it’s clear, you look back to Fennec, hoping she can see your nod of acknowledgement through the scope. She raises an arm to you.

Then you fall to Wren’s side, where she’s gripping her wound and cursing in fury.

‘Wren,’ you start, dropping your weapon and trying to assess the damage. ‘Hang on—'

An ear-splitting siren rips the air apart. Its meaning runs your blood cold. The walker is incoming. Wren tugs at your arm, a ‘help me up’ gesture. But you shake your head, lay your own hands over hers at the top of her thigh where blood spurts from the edge of the armour plate. 

‘No, no,’ you urge her back. ‘Don’t move.’

‘Have… to…’ she grits through her helm. But even the small movement she just made causes red to well between your fingers. 

‘Shit!’ you cry. ‘Gods, Wren. Hang on… Help!’ You look around frantically, yell into the deafening chaos of battle. ‘Help!’

Hells, think clearly, would you? You shake yourself and smack your comms. ‘I need help! Wren is down.’

Within moments, two Mandalorians have landed on either side. One, in medic garb, shoves you aside and begins to tend to her leg. They tap the ground to indicate she needs evac and you hear her grunt in abject frustration. Tries to wave them off.

‘No…’ she moans. ‘Need to…’ She tries to sit up but jolts with a cry of agony. She grips a fist tight before shaking herself and slapping her own comms, muttering into her helmet. You can’t hear who she’s talking to – why is she on a different comms channel?

Another siren has you whirling, then craning your neck up, back. A huge mechanised leg raises over the first fortifications only hundreds of feet in front of you, stomps down with a thundering crash.

You cradle your ears. Terror shoots through you. Whipping around, you look for another jetpacked fighter who could get you up there. Someone, anyone. But they wouldn’t know where to place the charges. How to time it. You sense your plan being blown to hell and panic sets in. This is it – that thing is going to wipe you all out.

Another gargantuan limb brings the monster closer and sends a garrison into full retreat. The horrifying sound of the thermal cannons warming up fills your ears with a sickening buzz. There’s no way to stop it. You look up to the heavens with defeat heavy on your chest. 

That’s where you see it. A pinprick at first, but growing larger. The gorgeous old gunship streaks across the sky, threading the needle through cannon fire and laser blasts. In a sharp nosedive, the Razor Crest is on full burn on its approach to you. It turns to make a low bank and passes over your heads. A figure drops from the hold, in a rapid descent to the field of battle not far from you.

Din hits the ground with a forward roll and releases a salvo of his whistling birds into the waiting war troopers. He’s incapacitated them in a matter of seconds as you sprint toward him. Up and fighting any and everything between the two of you, he makes his way to meet you in the middle. You can’t stop yourself from barrelling into him.

He just plants a hand on your waist and pulls you close, ‘Hang on!’ he yells.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to stifle your cry as his jetpack engages and rockets you both upwards, soaring toward the body of the walking terror. Nothing but empty air below and laser fire raining all around, you bury your face into his neck. Through the haze of fear and adrenaline, you feel him pull you tighter.

The underside streaks toward you. He manoeuvres to ascend up the thing’s body but, just as you come level with it, the rockets on Din’s pack cut out. Suspended in the air, weightless for one terrifying moment, a scream begins to bubble up as you anticipate a precipitous drop. 

But Din fires his whipcord ahead, planting its grapple at the top and swinging your bodies into the side of the massive unit. He twists his weight so he lands squarely against the side, shielding you from impact. Dangling together from the façade of the stalking, swaying machine, he nudges at you.

‘Climb!’ he yells, urging you upwards. 

‘Your jetpack!’ you shout back. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve got it, just climb now,’ he pushes. You reach up and grab the whipcord. His free hand helps you along, grabbing your legs and heaving upwards to give you purchase. You don’t know how his shoulder isn’t being torn from its joint, but he seems to be holding on. So you grit your teeth, ignore the cord cutting into your hands, and climb.

You hand over hand with the cord and plant your knees into the vertical surface. Push every shred of fear away and focus on what’s in front. Halfway up you glance back and almost scream again. Hundreds of feet below, the monstrosity steps through more barricades, nearing the centre of the fray. But you also see Din, who’s holding fast, looking up, watching you. You turn around and keep climbing. 

The second you reach the top, the whipcord whizzes back. You’re already scrambling toward the pilot hatch when Din’s voice crackles over your comms piece. ‘Just like you planned – you take the personnel, I’ve got the undercarriage.’ 

Gods, so he had been listening. 

Wind whips your face and the roar around you is deafening, but you get to the hatch and pop a thermal charge into the lock. Crawling back and shielding your head, you wait for the ‘croom ’ then leap forward, grip the edge of the opening, and swing yourself inside. The smoke and noise from the explosion has stunned your cabin buddies. They only manage a short shout of alarm before both find their necks snapping at unhappy angles.

You surge onto the portal, jabbing at controls and resetting target maps. The walker groans under the strain of turning 180, but the cockpit’s sights swing around until the advancing forces come into view. You set the target locking system and throw the lever into full drive before sending a quick blaster shot into the control panel. The guns below the cockpit begin a continuous barrage. You watch for a moment as squadrons scatter and tanks implode.

You back away and make for the hatch. Scrambling up onto topside, you hit comms.

‘Din!’ you cry. ‘We gotta go! Din?’

Instead of a reply, the Mandalorian rockets up over the edge and plants his feet metres from you. He strides forward, holding one hand to his helmet, shouting at R5 to bring in the Crest, and reaching his other arm out to you.

You don’t pause, moving in and resuming your grip on his shoulders. He holds for a second, then you’re fighting panic again as you launch upwards. This time though, you manage to keep your eyes trained down. 

You see the walker, marching back into its own lines, sending explosions into troopers and hovercannons. Then, perfectly timed, the detonators Din planted on the underside go off, buckling the legs and sending it tumbling into the central armoured column.

Good.

Then your vision is obscured and your momentum arrested. You start in alarm before making sense of the scene. The Crest has sailed elegantly into your line of ascent and Din has cut the jetpack, landing you both on the aft entry of the old gunship. It’s a heavy impact and the only reason your knees don’t collapse is the strong hold he has on you. You both stumble back into the hold of the ship.

As soon as you’re steadied, he lets go and makes for the cockpit. You give in to a brief moment of uninvited despair when he looks over his shoulder and barks, ‘C’mon!’ Then you’re following.

You allow yourself little beats to revel in being on the Crest again, but not for too long. The janky locker door that never quite shut all the way. The peeling paint on the ladder. The access panel that always flickered and whirred. Gods, you’d missed it so much. 

As you enter the cockpit, Din is taking his seat and engaging the controls from R5. You spot Grogu tucked in his pod, which is securely strapped into his flight seat. He looks over at you and waves his arms, burbling in excitement.

The seat on the other side, your seat, sits empty.

Your heart aches at the sight.

As if the ship senses it, the Crest groans and lurches nose down for a moment, forcing you forward. As Din rights its moorings, you flop back into the chair.

‘Get strapped in,’ he yells over his shoulder. He punches at the controls and brings the ship around to witness the skirmish taking place in the sky. The cockpit’s windows afford you a view of the aerial battle, so high up you can see the curvature of this moon and the combat below looking like a crawling insect colony. The fighters up here are intercepting and taking down enemy craft on approach, preventing any from breaking through to attack ground forces.

‘Just in time,’ Din says. ‘The Guild has arrived.’

‘Oh shit,’ you say, pulling the straps around and craning your neck out the window. You spot it. A hefty old transport frigate, Leaf Ghogal’s little army of bounty hunters, plugging a descent toward the edge of the fray, getting ready to drop a mess of bloodthirsty fighters right into the thick of it.

But Din seems unfazed. It puzzles you for a second before he flips the cockpit comms on and speaks to someone on the other end.

‘You’re up,’ he says.

‘Copy that, Mando my man,’ comes a reply – a painfully familiar voice. ‘Our frenemies will be taking a one-way jump to buttfuck nowhere in 3- 2- get goin’ hahaha.' 

Still eyeing the transport a ways off, you have a perfect view of it shuddering for a moment – the hyperdrive straining in the high atmosphere. With a massive shockwave, it shooms into nothingness. The energy fallout from its rapid departure collects the edge of a soaring tiefighter, taking its portside wing and sending it careening to the ground. 

‘Woo! Two fer one!’ The disembodied voice hollers and it hits you. 

‘Wha— Torre? ’ you sputter.

‘Hey dove,’ Torre’s voice echoes around the cockpit. ‘You made it.’

‘What are y-- what is-- what?’ 

‘Making up for my bullshit, hon,’ he says. ‘Or a little of it, at least.’

Din interrupts, like you aren’t in a full tailspin over this little fucking alliance going on right now.

‘Another mercenary outfit inbound,’ he says.

‘On it,’ Torre chirps, the clacking of keys being hit in rapid succession accompanying the transmission. 

You start to say ‘where?’ but Din just points. Another transport carrier trundles just behind where Leaf’s ship was. Your eyes track it as the Crest banks across the range. Huge, fit to carry upwards of two hundred combatants. Worlds, you think. If they land it’ll be a bloodbath.

But Torre’s counting down again and the boat – blip – bends out of existence. Just like that. 

‘That’s cleared,’ Din says.

‘Roger, roger,’ Torre responds.

This is too surreal. ‘Torre,’ you shout. ‘ What-- why are you doing this?’

A long sigh slips from the speakers.

‘Your Mando came and got me,’ he tells you over the comms. ‘Told me about how that fucker Cephlate used me. And how he got to you. Fuck. For that, and for the rest… Well, ‘m sorry.’

A beat of quiet as you absorb that. Then the Crest chimes in with its alert system, alarms blaring around you.

‘And speaking of the Devil,’ Torre says. ‘His craft is inbound.’

‘What?’ you yelp. ‘Cephlate is here?’ 

‘Indeed,’ Torre answers you. ‘Got his private little army in on this shitshow.’

Ice slides up and down your spine and sends cold shards to your extremities. The freeze of a carbonite unit crawls over your skin. Him. Your side aches right where your scar has steadily faded away. But it now throbs as if fresh. Your face, where he’d held onto your chin and threatened you, burns.

The only thing stopping you from succumbing to wild panic is the T visor that’s swung round to stare at you.

‘He’s not gonna touch you,’ Din snarls low. ‘Ever again.’

You lean into your chair, breathing deep into your belly as he turns back to the ship’s controls.

‘What can you do about it?’ Din asks.

‘Not much, I’m afraid. I’ve tried hacking in but he knows my tricks. All I can give you is something to aim for.’

A string of data rolls across the Crest’s targeting system, forms into a ship holo. An ugly, heavy-duty gunner-craft. Cannons and railguns weigh the beastly thing down. The holo rotates to reveal a glowing patch on the underside. Small and tucked against the exhaust latchings. You lean forward to get a good look at it. 

‘The stitch that will unravel his shields,’ Torre explains. ‘Aim for that. And he’ll be done.’

‘Okay,’ Din says. ‘I think you’re good then.’

‘Copy that.’

‘You gonna cause trouble?’

Torre’s chuckle rumbles over the speakers. ‘No worries there,’ he says. ‘Old mate Greef here hasn’t taken his pistol’s sights off me for a single second.’

‘I’ve got him, Mando,’ the high magistrate’s voice follows on. ‘We’ll take him back when the fight is over, won’t we IG?’

‘Bye then, dove,’ Torre’s voice sinks into you. ‘I’ll always be sorry.’

The transmission cuts.

Distracted by the insanity of what just happened, you miss Din’s question. He’s fiddling with settings on the HUD and, at your silence, looks back.

‘Huh?’ you ask.

‘I can’t aim for something like that and fly at the same time,’ he says. ‘So which do you want to do?’

‘Which do I--?’ You notice for the first time an addition to the instrument bank next to the flight chair you’re buckled into. A set of ship controls, twins to the ones Din’s got a hard grip on up front. Protruding just within reach. 

‘Had to get another ship mechanic to help install it, ‘m sorry,’ he says, watching you. ‘It was fiddly. The Crest did not want to cooperate. But we did it.’

‘Wh--,' you’re speechless. You reach over and they glide easily outward so you can orient them in front of you. Giving each an experimental twist, you feel the hefty tilt and take in the trigger buttons just by where your forefingers rest. ‘Oh wow… Din. But- I can’t--’

‘You can,’ he says. ‘I know it.’

Aware you can’t waste time on doubt, you heave a deep sigh. Looking at the ship holo, at the tiny opening Torre’s given you, your fingers hover over the triggers. Something inside you makes the choice. 

‘Aim,’ you say. ‘I’ll aim.’

Nodding, he spins back around and flips a switch. The controls under your palms hum with energy and a HUD blinks in front of you. The Crest shudders as its weapons system primes itself.

Hells, how are you going to fucking do this.

‘I’ll draw him onto us, tell me when you’re ready and I’ll give you an opening,’ he says. Without further ado, he pulls his own controls back and the Razor Crest soars. 

How are you going to do this.

The Mandalorian pilots his ship through a mess of crossfire and the occasional spacecraft trailing smoke and plummeting to the earth. The menacing looking ship of the outer-rim warlord comes into view and Din positions the Crest right in front of it, racing ahead and catching the enemy crew’s attention. Pulls serpentine manoeuvrers to dodge the laser fire that begins a bombardment.

How are you—

Static crackles over the comms and the sickly, savage voice of the figure you’ve had nightmares about fills the space. Delighted, arrogant and bloodthirsty. Cephlate waxes lyrical about finally having the opportunity to ‘destroy you Mando, and all you hold dear’.

But you’re barely taking it in, fixated on the targeting system and trying to fathom how you’re going to do this.  

How, how, how—

Spiralling thoughts are interrupted by a feather-soft tendril of energy nudging at the edge of your mind. It swirls against your consciousness and seems to await permission. 

You look over at Grogu, whose eyes are shut tight and hands twitch with power. The sense of connection within you grows brighter, promises aid. Begs entry.

‘Ready?’ Din calls.

‘We have this,’ you shout. Looking at the child, you let him and the Force flood your mind, whip through your senses and snake into your arms and hands, held firm on the controls. They hum harder, some awareness deep in the bowels of the ship slips into you, a quiet there you are, where have you been? You set your shoulders and shout, ‘Now!’

Din hurls a lever back and reefs on the controls. The Crest drops into a free fall. The rear thrusters cut and tip the boat so you’re looking up into the sky. Laser fire passes overhead as does Cephlate’s ship. The glint in the underside, the break in the shield, is plain as day to your heightened senses.

You, Grogu and the Crest lock onto it and your fingers move of their own volition, releasing a single pulse that streaks ahead. Where it hits home, exactly on target, a burst of crackling, festy grey energy widens from the spot, shimmering over the whole ship. The entire shield system drops away in a few heartbeats.

‘No!’ the warlord bellows. ‘You--!'

Din smacks the comms to another channel over the top of his cries. ‘Move in,’ he commands whoever’s on the other side. To you, ‘Keep firing!’

You’re already setting up to unleash an angry broadside along the bottom of the vessel. He hauls the thrusters back on and gives you a perfect bank for the barrage to take out its engine array. When the Crest clears the front of the ship, it wheels around and you can take aim at the top-mounted cannons.

You see several other Mandalorian jets and fighters move in weapons free, your little T-Wing among them. It and the rest send explosions to impact on all sides of the vessel. Your ship makes another turn and you get to pass again – feeling feral, you zero in on the bridge and send the bow of the ship up in flames.  

It’s not long before the monstrous dirigible is listing, tilting away from the centre of the fight, toward the chordal coast where the imps’ forward party had been encamped. It disappears over the rim of the small mountain range bisecting the landscape. Moments later, a spectacular explosion reaches toward the skies.

You watch it as the Crest’s trajectory evens out, sails across the cleared air. You scan the radar, friendly craft soar around you. 

Only the roar of wind and the groan of the ship fill the cockpit. You loosen your grip just slightly on the controls as a wide grin spreads across your face. You glance up at Din, seeing his shoulders steadily drop as he relaxes. You laugh.

‘Well that, felt incredible,’ you say. He starts to turn toward you.

A burst of static covers what he says back. A boisterous voice thunders over the speakers, declaring glorious victory and the imp forces scattering like baby womp rats, the jet-packed Mandalorians running them down with ease.

You listen, fidgeting a little as a weird pang starts to bother your side. 

The comms cuts to reports of mopping up but Din turns it to low, moving dials and flipping the landing gear into standby.

You keep your hands on the gunner grips in case any last-minute moves are needed, but try to sit up a little straighter to stretch out the tightness that is drawing your abdomen into a knot. The tension of the fight setting in, maybe?

Din leans back. ‘Guess we can head in,’ he says, moving to turn to you again. Your heart beats harder, damn near straining against your chest. ‘And maybe we can t—’

‘Ebbe!’

The tiny, panicked shriek from Grogu causes you both to whip around to him. Your concern twists your guts. A strange nervous vibration is working its way up your spine, into your skull and clouding your vision. Your mouth is filling with icy shards and your ears start ringing. 

‘Grogu?’ you say. ‘Baby, wha—’

‘No!’ Din surges from his chair.

‘Is he okay?’

‘Oh Gods, no, no, no!’

That’s when you realise that he’s not lunging at Grogu but toward you. And Grogu is fine, but he’s pointing to your middle with fear-filled eyes.

Din kneels before you and chants your name. ‘Hang on. Please just, hang on, love. Stay, stay with me, hey! Stay with me!’ His confusing demands grow fuzzy and further away as he talks.

You finally look down. The haze and hot tendrils clawing at your eyes make it hard to see, but that’s definitely something sticking out of your stomach. You move a hand to it. It’s hot, and vibrating with a quiet menace. Your fingers come away bloodied. ‘Ohhhh wha…’ You fade out.

--

Prev | Next

Forgive me.

Thank you so much for reading this weird little story.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

[swinging-through-the-stars]

Okay, Sith!Luke au sounds incredible!!! I haz questions

What's Din's whole perspective on things? Is he (like canon) blissfully unaware of who and what Luke is? Does he know and just not care? Is he just doing anything to protect Grogu, only to realize that the 'teacher' is very dangerous but has also imprinted on Din just as much as Din has fallen for him?

What about Grogu? Does he understand the darkness in Luke? Is he averse to it? Or does he go all in on the dark side to protect his dad?

OOOOHHH YES YES YES I'd LOVE to get into Din and Grogu stuff! (I'm realizing this will be another long one so there's your warning lol)

As for Din --

In my AU, after the Death Star blows up in 0 ABY, Luke begins to take personal undercover missions to continue undermining the Empire. To stay anonymous, he hires an untraceable mercenary that doesn't ask questions and is also not fond of the Empire - this is where Din Djarin comes in. (Din doesn't have a lot developed pre-Mando season 1 other than he's been bounty-hunting - and before that - taking mercenary jobs for a while, so why not utilize that for a story I want?) While working with Luke in this time period, Din has absolutely no idea who Luke is other than he carries a "red laser-sword" and doesn't show his face. He knows Luke as The Stranger, and for a few years takes jobs from Luke since he pays very well (that Empire money eh). Din is vaguely aware that his jobs have small impacts on the war against the Empire, so he is fine with complying, especially since they are relatively low-risk.

Things take a turn in 4 ABY when Luke hires Din to rescue Han Solo from Jabba's Palace. (one of the few pieces of fic I finished -- FREE SOLO) In this mission, Din sees Luke's face, learns his name (however doesn't recognize it from anywhere), and learns that he KNOWS specific people that a key to the rebellion (Lando, Han Solo, Leia, Chewbacca). The whole ordeal puts Din in more trouble than he bargains for. Luke declares an end to their business relationship because of this and cuts Din off, but it doesn't kill Din's festering curiosity as to who Luke is. He doesn't pursue further, but that curiosity lingers until they meet again.

Luke and Din meet again in a way that mirrors the end of Season 2 of Mando (because I thought it was a fun idea, and YES I have managed to write that out too -- SHADOW ON THE BRIDGE). This is where Din learns that Luke is not only a Sith, but the EMPEROR of the Neo Empire. I've been (ever so slowly) updating the fic of the aftermath of that, where Din meets with Luke again and where they begin to have those conversations of what will happen to Grogu.

In this next fic - First Steps into Darkness - I do want to explore how Din takes up the mantle of Mand'alor and how he uses his previous relationship with Luke to rebuild his world and also create an alliance to further push the Imperial Remnant threat out of the galaxy. Din deals with opinions about this from all sides, from Bo-Katan who has a difficult time trusting Luke, to Din's Clan that are between against and neutral on the matter. (Also keep in mind that I've been planning this part of the story before Mando S3 -- I do use some aspects of S3 but also very much divert from it).

What keeps Din coming back to Luke is ultimately his curiosity, both in Luke's abilities as a leader/negotiator and in him being this mysterious entity. Luke's fervor for his religion, his quest for familial answers, his internal battle of identity -- these are all things that Din relates to. (Luke's a bit more of a hot mess than Din is but -- you know, they have commonalities that they can lean on).

I also really like the concept of the Darksaber having its own sort of Force sentience to the point where Din has to work with it (it's a little like Haunted!Din but instead of outright possession it's more like -- Venom, or something like that, where they work together). Having Luke as a resource to navigate that territory further connects the two.

Needless to say, despite what rumors and warnings Din has been given, he doesn't understand why the "Dark Side" of the Force is considered the "bad" Force and why the "Light Side" is considered the "good". Perhaps it's because he's only really interacted with Luke, and perhaps it's because Mandalorians have a checkered history with getting along with "Light Side" Jedi users as well. His perspective could be biased or he probably just believes that Luke is not what others want to make him seem. Either way, the fact that Luke is a Sith doesn't necessarily make Din distrust him outright, especially since he's the only one that will agree to help hone Grogu's powers.

OKAY, ONTO GROGU -- YEAH THERE'S MORE --

Since's Luke's appearance in rescuing them from Gideon's Cruiser, Grogu is INTRIGUED with Luke and the pull to the Dark Side. In his little mind, Luke is powerful, really cool, and can make Gideon pee his pants -- of course he sees that and goes "ooh I wanna be like that guy".

First Steps into Darkness, while I mentioned will go into some of Din's story, will ultimately be a focus on Grogu (when I eventually finish it lol). I think child characters (especially cute bait like Grogu) often get the short end of the stick in terms of development, and it's SUCH a missed opportunity in my eyes. Children have very simple and blunt observations, and they SOAK up the world around them -- putting the mess of Sith Luke and through GROGU'S perspective is so fun to me.

Luke is not afraid of teaching Grogu, but he's afraid of Grogu idolizing him like HE did Vader. Despite Luke's attachment to his father, Vader was -- NOT really the best father, and deep down Luke knows that and is afraid. He keeps a distance from Grogu that Grogu is always trying to close. Grogu knows that Luke is just a teacher and that he's often not very personable with him. But Grogu sees how Luke's power has the ability to protect, he sees something in him like did with Din (who was also not very warm at first). Grogu believes that if he learns what Luke knows, he can too can become that protector that can stop wars and help those he cares about.

Grogu also continues to learn from Din about Mandalorian culture, so he isn't completely split between one or the other -- in fact, Luke encourages Din to keep sharing his roots with his son. The teachings of both Mandalorians and Sith are eventually the teachings that shape Grogu's perspective on loyalty, emotions, power, and so on. He's observant as hell, so he soaks everything up like a SPONGE.

And let's be honest, the Grogu realizing he could learn some tricks that maybe the Jedi forbade sounds a bit fun to him. He is still a kid after all.

Sorrynotsorry that was long -- I love talking about these concepts, and honestly answering these questions is helping me type out my thoughts to use as reference later. It's getting me fired up to keep writing and editing too.

Thank you again for the questions @just-prime -- I hope you found this interesting!!

#sithlukeau #sith luke skywalker #dinluke #din djarin #grogu #thank you for the ask

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Eight)

Summary: Bo-Katan and Clan Mudhorn track the Mandalorian mercenaries to Plazir-15, but they are recruited by the planet’s strange rulers to sort out an ongoing issue before they can meet them.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Originally, I was gonna write the entirety of the droid investigation into one chapter but by the time I wrote 4k words, I decided to split it up over two chapters instead lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Eight The Malfunction (Previous Chapter)

“There they are.”

Looking up from the console’s buttons, Din’s brows rose in surprise when he caught a glimpse of the Nite Owl’s one-time stolen fleet; it was comprised of several Gozanti-class Assault Carriers, Kom’rk-class fighter transports, fang-class fighters and the Imperial light cruiser that once belonged to Moff Gideon. Seeing the light cruiser that (Y/N) had nearly died on and where they’d been forced to say goodbye to Grogu again sent a shiver down Din’s spine and although he knew that it was under the command of the exiled Mandalorian, he silently vowed never to set foot onto a ship that held such dark memories for his small family. “That’s quite a fleet.”

Bo-Katan continued to fly the Gauntlet across the clear skies of Plazir-15 as she spared him a brief glance over her shoulder. “It took me a long time to assemble it; most of it was captured from the Empire.”

“I knew they looked familiar.” (Y/N) got up from her seat and crossed the starfighter’s cockpit to lean against the console beside Din. “Could come in real handy taking back Mandalore.”

“Axe Woves is their leader now,” Bo-Katan replied with a small sigh. “It’s going to take some convincing to get them to join us.”

Din watched as the captain bit her lip and remained silent, the look of sympathy briefly crossing her beautiful features causing his heart to thrum in his chest. He was constantly amazed by his wife’s ability to empathize with the struggles of others, regardless of the language and culture barriers she’d often times run into; he remembered how kindly she’d treated the Tuskens and the Frog woman, how selflessly she’d defended the people of Freetown and Mos Espa, and how – despite the recent slew of confusing contradictions – she’d eagerly thrown herself into learning all that she could about the Way of the Mandalore. The conflicts and infighting amongst the various factions of Mandalorians was baffling to her, but that didn’t prevent her from spending their week of searching for the stolen fleet commiserating with the woman who already failed to unite her people once before and who was obviously fearful of failing once again.

Searching for any means of easing the nervous tension in the cockpit, Din asked, “I wonder what they’re here for?”

“This planet isn’t on the New Republic Registry, so I’d guess it’s an independent world that hired them for protection.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat and began fiddling with the frayed edge of her fingerless glove. “Can’t imagine Woves will be happy to see you…”

Bo-Katan absentmindedly nodded, clearly lost in her own ruminations ahead of their meeting with her former forces. “Yeah.” Disappointment filled (Y/N)’s eyes and Din placed a gloved hand atop hers for comfort as the Nite Owl continued. “I’ll land outside the fleet’s perimeter; it’s probably best if we go in on foot.”

Before either Din or (Y/N) could reply, a cheerful fanfare played over the starfighter’s communication radio and was accompanied by an equally-pleasant voice. “Welcome to Plazir-15, the Outer Rim’s only remaining direct democracy. You’ve been assigned a docking slip. You will be guided on the assigned path. Engaging automated guidance.”

The Gauntlet suddenly jolted and began flying towards the planet’s domed city, causing (Y/N) to stumble and Din to wrap a steadying arm around her waist as Bo-Katan slapped a gloved hand on the console’s unresponsive buttons. “What happened?”

“They’ve taken control of the ship.” With a huff of annoyance, Bo-Katan flopped back in the pilot’s seat and looked at Grogu seated beside her. “I guess we’re going for a ride.”

Grogu cooed in delight and bobbed his head along to the music still emanating from the radio, causing (Y/N) to giggle and Din to smile beneath his helmet. In no time, the Gauntlet touched down on one of the city’s landing pads and the ramp lowered on its own accord; they bid R5 goodbye and after exchanging wary looks with one another, the four of them walked down the ramp and began crossing the landing pad. “This is…interesting,” Din commented, forcing himself not to reach for his blaster when he caught sight of the Imperial Death Star and astromech droids positioned by the monorail platform.

“Welcome to Plazir-15.” The RA-7 unit gestured towards the occupied track at the top of the raised platform. “Please proceed to your hyperloop pod.”

As they passed by the Imperial droids, (Y/N) shuddered and looked over at Din and Bo-Katan in discomfort. “Why do they have Imperial droids on an independent world?”

“It’s the Outer Rim,” Bo-Katan replied with a shrug as they ascended the platform and stepped into the empty pod. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Din and (Y/N) sat on one end of the pod while Bo-Katan and Grogu’s pram sat opposite them and once the doors slid shut, the Nite Owl addressed the hyperloop’s automation. “Bring us to the bay closest to the Mandalorian fleet.”

“As per Article Nine of the Coruscant Accords, permission must be granted from High Senate for access to self-defense forces in the peacekeeping zone. Do you grant permission to scan your chain code?”

(Y/N) stiffened while Din and Bo-Katan allowed the automation to scan their chain codes and when she made no move to produce hers, Din’s brow furrowed in concern. “Alor’ad? Is everything all right?”

“…Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” The captain trailed off and silently held out her wrist so that the automation could read the chain code emanating from her arm band.

“Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze and Solia Corrik…” Din’s eyes widened in shock and (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest as she avoided their questioning gazes. “Your presence has been requested by the leadership of the planetary democracy.”

Bo-Katan gritted her teeth in impatience. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters. Perhaps at a later time-”

“Please do not attempt to leave the vehicle. This is not a request.”

Without warning, the hyperloop pod shot forward and raced along its track. They scrambled to brace themselves and when they finally succeeded, (Y/N) sighed and finally looked over at Din. “Solia Corrik is the name my mother gave me when I was born and when she died, Solia Corrik died with her; I started going by (Y/N) (Y/L/N) when I fled Naboo – it was safer that way, easier to avoid Imperial detection, and it was what she wanted for me – and I’ve avoided having my chain code scanned at every chance I could, but I never had the heart to officially change my name. I’m sorry that I never told you, Din-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, alor’ad.” Din reached over and held one of her hands while the other caressed her cheek. “If you say your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), then that’s what I’ll call you. You respected my Creed without question and called me ‘Mando’ until I finally worked up the nerve to tell you my name, and you deserve the same level of respect.”

(Y/N)’s worried expression softened into a grateful smile and after giving the palm of his gloved hand a brief kiss, she took a glance out of the pod and bit her lip as she studied the domed city they sped through. “I’ve never been here before. Have either of you?”

Bo-Katan shook her head and Din removed his hand from the captain’s cheek to rest it on the handle of his blaster. “I haven’t even heard of it. Do you think we’re gonna have to blast our way out of here?”

“We’ll find out,” The Nite Owl replied, shifting in unease and exchanging a look with Grogu as the pod came to a stop and its doors slid open.

The three of them stood and exited the pod, slowly walking down the stark-white hallway while Grogu’s pram drifted along behind them; Din struggled to keep his hands hanging loose at his sides but he pushed through, his curiosity over the strange-looking planet only slightly overshadowing his cautious nature. The doors at the end of the hallway slid open to reveal a grand dining hall decorated with green ferns and woven tapestries, where beings of all shapes and sizes were seated around a sprawling table and enjoying a midday feast while musicians serenaded them with a gentle tune.

“Join us! Come!” A bearded man dressed in an opulent uniform exclaimed from the head of the table and beamed as he waved them over. “It’s a party, come! Everyone, special guests: Mandalorians! I hope you like secretions. Take a sip-sip! Come, please!” As they made their way around the long table, the bearded man sat back down beside a woman donned in an elaborate gown of blue, purple and pink. Din, knowing his wife’s affinity for fashion, glanced over at (Y/N) expecting to find an awed expression on her face, but his brow furrowed in confusion when all he saw was shock. “It’s truly an honor to meet such impressive warriors!”

Din and Bo-Katan sat on the man’s side of the table with Grogu’s pram while (Y/N) sat in the unoccupied seat beside the opulently-dressed woman, who gave them all a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble home. I am the Duchess of Plazir-15 and this is my husband, Captain Bombardier.”

While the Duchess spoke, Din’s eyes flicked over to Captain Bombardier and he pursed his lips in distaste when he spotted the badge pinned onto the front of his uniform. “Let’s address the bantha in the room,” The bearded man sighed and gestured towards the pin. “I was once a facilities planning officer during the war and thanks to the New Republic Amnesty Program, I was able to help rebuild Plazir-15.”

“You were Imperial?”

“He was,” The Duchess confirmed, resting a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder before continuing. “Plazir suffered greatly under Imperial rule. My husband came here as part of his rehabilitation; he oversaw the rebuilding of this planet on which my family served as nobility since it was originally settled, and…” She held her husband’s hand and gave him a sweet smile. “We fell in love.”

Captain Bombardier chuckled and reverently kissed his wife’s knuckles. “We fell in love. We did fall in love.”

Watching the happy couple shamelessly revel in their romance, Grogu cooed in delight and the Duchess’ brown eyes lit up as she looked up at Din. “Could I perhaps hold the baby? Please?”

“He doesn’t take kindly to strangers…” Din carefully replied but before he could say another word, the child leapt through the air and landed neatly in the Duchess’ lap; while the royal couple laughed in delight and Grogu happily ate the small fish that the Duchess bribed him with, Din sighed in exasperation and sat back in his seat.

“Pardon me if I speak out of turn, Your Majesty, but was your gown designed here on Plazir-15?”

The Duchess gave (Y/N) a smile while she continued to feed Grogu. “The gown was but my petal parasol was imported all the way from Naboo many cycles ago, an anniversary gift from my father for my mother. When I inherited the royal wardrobe, I had my favorite pieces converted into holograms and the originals put into storage so that their beauty would never fade.” The Duchess quirked her brow as she assessed the surprised captain. “Your surname is Corrik, is it not? Any relation to the House of Corrik?”

“My mother was Lomiya Corrik,” (Y/N) replied, her eyes roving across the elaborate parasol while a melancholy smile formed on her lips. “She kept a record of every piece she ever designed, and this was one of her favorites.”

Beneath his helmet, Din couldn’t help but smile for his wife while the Duchess excitedly raved about the House of Corrik, who had nothing but her memories to remind her of her late mother; it must comfort her to know that her mother’s legacy continues to live on through her artistic creations, he thought to himself, ignoring the twinge of guilt as he recalled how her mother’s treasured journal had been lost in the blast that destroyed the Razor Crest so many months ago.

“In fact, Naboo helped to inspire Plazir’s transformation!” The Duchess explained as Din refocused his attention on their conversation. “You see, it was time for our planet to move into a new age. We held direct democratic elections for the first time in our history.”

Captain Bombardier nodded. “We are both royals and elected leaders.”

“And the Mandalorian privateer warships docked in your fields?” Din inquired.

“Oh, we hire them for protection; our charter forbids us from having a military because of my husband’s Imperial past.”

“But because of this, all of our resources go to growth and the people,” The bearded man added and gave (Y/N) a smile. “We also take great pride in preserving our planet’s history.”

Bo-Katan, trying her hardest not to lose patience with the eccentric couple, sat forward in her seat and clasped her gloved hands together. “I’d like to speak to these ‘privateers.’”

Captain Bombardier exchanged a brief glance with the Duchess. “That can be arranged…there is just one condition.”

“What?”

Din rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle way the bearded man gestured towards the balcony and cheerfully announced, “You really must see the view. Right this way!” The other guests curiously watched them stand and Captain Bombardier waved them off. “We’ll just be a moment! Enjoy your meal, don’t get up! Let’s show our guests the view.”

“We have a problem,” The Duchess lowly explained as they walked towards the balcony overlooking the domed city.

“A droid problem.”

Din’s brow furrowed at the mention of droids. “What kind of ‘droid problem’?”

“Malfunction.”

“A coordinated malfunction-”

“We think.”

(Y/N) frowned in confusion. “What makes you think that?”

“The planet’s Imperial droids were reprogrammed for peace.” The Duchess’ words were tinged with a subtle accusatory tone as she gave her husband a knowing look.

“I can assure you they were completely rehabilitated for peaceful purposes exclusively.”

“We thought.”

“They were, my love, I personally oversaw the program!”

Din interrupted the couple’s light squabbling to ask a clarifying question. “What kind of malfunction?”

“I mean, nothing too serious at first. Unexpected power cycles, deleted task stacks…”

“Then it got worse.”

“Traffic accidents, heavy equipment failures leading to injury-”

“Assault.”

Din stiffened while (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow. “Assault?”

The Duchess nodded and Bo-Katan shifted her weight as she addressed the royal couple standing before them. “Respectfully, what does this have to do with us?”

“Our constables are ill-equipped to confront battle droids-”

“Battle droids?” Din’s heart dropped into his stomach, the only things keeping him from spiraling into the painful memories of his parents’ deaths being the sound of Grogu’s worried coos and the weight of (Y/N)’s hand resting on his bicep.

Captain Bombardier hastily shook his head. “Uh-uh-uh-uh, former battle droids. They’ve been rehabilitated for civic duty.”

“We thought.”

“They were.”

“Obviously not.”

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenched in annoyance. “The Mandalorian garrison outside your city walls can make quick work of your battle droids.”

“That’s just it. Our charter forbids any standing army from entering our city,” The Duchess explained as she gently caressed Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Our constables aren’t even allowed to carry blasters.”

“But you allowed us to be armed.”

“Exactly!” Din and Bo-Katan exchanged a look as Captain Bombardier continued. “The people have voted that we are a pluralistic society. You are Mandalorians; weaponry and armor are intrinsic to your culture, are they not?”

Din nodded. “They are.”

“…You see where we’re going here?”

The Nite Owl smiled despite her obvious exasperation. “You want us to eliminate your droid problem.”

“Exactly!” The Duchess beamed at them. “I knew you would help us!”

“Hold on there, Your Majesty. We didn’t agree to help you-”

“Please, Princess Kryze, Your Grace. This is not intended to be a work of charity.”

Bo-Katan’s nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Unlike my brethren outside your city walls, I am no mercenary.”

Captain Bombardier bowed his head in deference. “Apologies if that is the impression I gave. What I intended to convey is that I would hope that this ‘excursion’ would be viewed as an act of diplomacy between our two planets. In fact, Plazir-15 would formally recognize Mandalore as a sovereign system and petition the New Republic to recognize it as such.”

“The mercenary captain, Axe Woves, indicated that he split from you because you had designs on ruling Mandalore once again,” The Duchess added.

“…Those plans have been abandoned.”

The bearded man merely shrugged. “The offer stands nonetheless.”

Pursing her lips, Bo-Katan turned to look at (Y/N) and Din. “What do you think?”

“That having the support of both Nevarro and Plazir-15 will reestablish Mandalore’s political influence throughout the Outer Rim and signal to the New Republic that it deserves to be recognized as a sovereign system,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered the royal couple’s offer. “Politically, it’s a smart move that will only benefit Mandalore in the long run.”

The Nite Owl, impressed by the captain’s diplomatic answer, turned her attention to Din. “And you?”

“You had me at battle droids.” Her lips twitched as he gave her a small shrug.

“Then it’s settled. The three of us will investigate and eliminate your droid problem.”

The Duchess beamed in happiness and Captain Bombardier clapped his hands. “Thank you, Princess Kryze! There’s just one small thing to address before you begin.”

Bo-Katan’s gloved hands briefly clenched into fists. “Yes?”

“You and Din Djarin are Mandalorians, but Solia Corrik here is unfortunately not; if she will be joining you on your mission, then our charter forbids her from carrying any weapons into the city.”

Flinching at the casual use of her birth-name, (Y/N) nodded and began to reach for her blaster but Din’s hand shot out to stop her. “Alor’ad, wait. I think you should stay here at the palace with the kid.” His wife opened her mouth to protest but Din took a step closer and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “(Y/N), I lost both of my parents to Separatist battle droids. I don’t wanna lose you and Grogu to them, too.”

(Y/N)’s expression softened in understanding and she nodded as she holstered her blaster and the Duchess spoke up. “Rest assured, your companion and the baby will be well taken care of while you complete your quest.”

“Thank you for extending your hospitality to my family, Your Majesty,” Din replied, bowing his head in respect and reaching forward to pat Grogu’s head. “Be good for our hosts, kid. Bo-Katan and I will be back before you know it.”

The child released a quiet coo and when Din turned back to the captain, she rested a hand on the beskar covering his cheek and gave him a small smile. “K’oyacyi, ner kotep beroya.”

Din’s heart warmed in his chest at his wife’s traditional Mando’a farewell: Come back safely, my brave bounty hunter. He leaned his forehead against hers in a brief Keldabe Kiss and placed his hand atop hers. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.” After she gave him one last smile, he forced himself to step back and turn to a pensive-looking Bo-Katan. “Ready to fix a droid problem?”

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

Din and Bo-Katan were instructed by the Duchess to pay the city’s command center a visit so that Commissioner Helgait, the elderly head of security could brief them on the city’s ongoing struggles with their reprogrammed Imperial droids. The command center was filled with rows and rows of monitors displaying live security footage from all across the domed capitol city and from what Din could see, the people of Plazir-15 seemed content with their lives governed by direct democracy, albeit too reliant on their droids. None of them would be in imminent danger if they didn’t rely so heavily on droids to keep the city running for them, he thought to himself, a surge of the old familiar distrust of all droids causing his jaw to tightly clench.

“These droids were all reprogrammed to serve the community from the stockpile of captured Imperial robotics scheduled to be scrapped at Karthon.” Commissioner Helgait sat at his desk and pressed a series of buttons on its surface to pull up several archived security tapes. “The droid’s reprogramming was a complete success…until one day, an isolated event…” A garbage disposal droid was shown erratically flinging a rubbish can’s contents across an alleyway. “Then others. This is just a small collection of malfunctions that our security cameras caught.” The next footage to play depicted a B1 battle droid hurling a woman’s shopping bags, a chauffeur droid speeding through a crowded terminal and intentionally crashing a land-speeder into a wall, and a cook droid in a bustling restaurant attacking frightened patrons with knives.

“Turn them off.”

Commissioner Helgait looked over at Bo-Katan, who was staring transfixed at the monitors before them. “What?”

“Why not turn them all off? Who’s in charge of that?”

“I am,” The elderly man replied with a shrug. “There’s a fail-safe cutoff switch built into the system. However…”

In an incredible show of self-restraint, Din suppressed his frustrated sigh. “What?”

Commissioner Helgait chuckled humorlessly. “The citizens voted against any interruption in droid services. They can’t live without it.”

“And why’s that?” Din asked, already knowing the answer to his own question but allowing the head of security to speak.

“The citizens are no longer required to work and can spend their days engaging in recreation, the arts, and participating in our direct democracy. If we shut down the droids, our citizens wouldn’t know how to survive.” Commissioner Helgait sighed to himself and shook his head. “Our society would collapse.”

Bo-Katan tilted her head in confusion. “Then what do you want from us?”

“To seek out and decommission any remaining rogue droids, until we can fix the problem.”

Exchanging a wary look with Din, the Nite Owl heaved a small sign and nodded. “Give us the list.”

“Well, for that, you’ll have to go to the lower level and speak to the Ugnaughts.”

Din instantly perked up at that. “Ugnaughts?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded. “Ugnaughts.”

After thanking the head of security for his assistance, Din and Bo-Katan stepped into the elevator and traveled down to the city’s lowest level; his past friendship with Kuiil gave him an insight to the Ugnaught’s skills as droidsmiths, recalling how Kuiil had managed to revive and reprogram IG-11 to act as a nurse droid instead of an assassin droid. Shaking off the wave of sadness he experienced whenever he thought about his fallen Ugnaught friend, Din clasped his hands and remarked, “See what happens when you rely on droids?”

Bo-Katan’s brow arched in curiosity. “Are you taking this personally?”

“Just pointing it out.”

“Let’s just finish this so we can be on our way.” The elevator stopped and when its doors slid open, they stepped out into a bustling workshop and watched several Ugnaughts hard at work performing maintenance tasks on decommissioned and reprogrammed Imperial droids. “I am Bo-Katan Kryze. Which one of you is in charge?” The Ugnaught droidsmiths kept their attention on their work, so the Nite Owl forced a patient smile and tried again. “We were sent on behalf of the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to help you with your droid problem. Hello?” Again, none of the Ugnaughts acknowledged her words or their presence in the workshop, and Din huffed a quiet chuckle at Bo-Katan’s growing annoyance as she turned to look at him. “This is going nowhere.”

Instead of answering, Din took a step forward and loudly addressed the workshop. “I am Mandalorian Din Djarin, friend of Ugnaught Kuiil.” The droidsmiths finally looked up from their tasks as he continued. “You will answer our questions and help us with our task. I have spoken.” The Ugnaughts left their work unfinished and gestured for the both of them to join them at one of the workshop’s tables; Bo-Katan shot Din an impressed look as they took their seats and nodded respectfully at the droidsmith who handed her a cup of broth, politely taking a sip while Din spoke. “Thank you for your hospitality and for sharing your table with us. We were engaged to hunt down and eliminate the malfunctioning droids.”

“There are no such droids.”

The workshop was silent until Bo-Katan set her cup of broth down and rested her elbows on the tabletop. “You may not have heard the news down here, but your droids are wreaking havoc in the world above.”

The same Ugnaught smiled wryly. “There is not much of which we are not aware; these halls are the central nervous system of the city. I assure you, the droids are not malfunctioning.”

The Nite Owl blinked in confusion at the Ugnaught’s flippant tone. “Citizens have been harmed by these malfunctioning machines.”

“This is not the case. I have spoken.”

Din bit his lip, wishing that (Y/N) were there to employ her more natural talent for diplomacy; since she wasn’t, though, he took a deep breath and followed his wife’s example. “We’re not in any way suggesting that your work is to blame. The stories of Ugnaughts’ skill with smithing droids are legendary. We know that Ugnaughts are considered the hardest working species in the galaxy and we, like you, have been engaged with a task to perform. We will investigate the dangerous incidents, but we would appreciate your help.”

After considering his words, the lead droidsmith made a gesture towards his comrade and when he handed him a holo-disc, the lead droidsmith placed it in Din’s open hand. “Here are the locations of the droids you seek.”

“Thank you.” Din bowed his head in respect. “We are in your debt. I have spoken.”

The Ugnaughts nodded and watched them walk across the workshop, where they entered the elevator and traveled back up to the highest levels; neither of them spoke until they were seated in the hyperloop pod, looking out at the darkened night sky and admiring the twinkling lights of the domed city as they sped by. “What was that back there?”

“I’ve spent time with Ugnaughts.” Din shrugged and sat back in his seat. “There’s a particular way to communicate with them; accusing their work of malfunctioning is an insult.” He looked down at the holo-disc and scanned the Aurebesh printed across its surface. “Now, they’ve indicated that there’s a likelihood that the next event will be at the loading docks.”

Bo-Katan hummed in interest. “How sure are they?”

“Hard to tell, Ugnaughts always seem sure of themselves.”

The Nite Owl chuckled. “Well, it’s the only lead we’ve got so we might as well have a look around.” They fell into a comfortable silence and after a short while, their pod slowed to a stop at a bay overlooking the crowded loading docks. Exchanging a look, they exited the pod and made their way down a series of staircases, and a chill went down Din’s spine at the sight before them; B-2 battle droids, the same ones responsible for his parents’ deaths, were carrying cargo boxes to and from various ships and transport speeders, and their labor was overseen by several B-1 series battle droids. Although Din was relieved that (Y/N) and Grogu were safe in the palace, he couldn’t help but long for their comforting presence as he struggled to keep the memories of that terrible day at bay. “I haven’t seen battle droids since the Clone Wars.”

Din gritted his teeth. “I have.”

“Any of ‘em look suspicious?”

“They all look suspicious.”

Bo-Katan didn’t reply, his cryptic words hanging untouched in the air while they stepped down onto the dock and approached the nearest droid foreman. “Halt. This is a restricted area. You are to vacate immediately.”

The Nite Owl gave the stern droid a polite smile. “We have a few questions.”

“Show me your identification, please.”

“We’re here on behalf of the Duchess to investigate the droid malfunctions.”

“Yes, I saw the reports.” While Bo-Katan and the droid foreman talked, Din strayed off to where the battle droids marched in a single-file line and studied their imposing forms as they passed him by; he waved a gloved hand in front of one’s face and saw no reaction, but he merely repeated the gesture with the next droid in line. “Rest assured, I’ve had the entire line of loaders undergo maintenance protocols as a safety measure. The, uh, certification is on file. I wouldn’t do that if I were you!”  

Din glanced over his shoulder at the droid foreman, unperturbed by its warning shout. “Why’s that?”

“Well, as a precaution,” The droid foreman carefully explained. “Their base function was warfare.”

“I thought they were just checked out.”

“They were-” Without waiting for the droid’s full reply, Din gave the next battle droid in line a hard kick; predictably, it merely staggered a little before returning to its place in line and carrying its cargo box to a nearby ship. “Uh, what are you doing?!”

“Then this shouldn’t faze them,” Din shrugged before kicking the next battle droid that passed them by, taking some pleasure in his rash and potentially dangerous experiment.

“Uh, sir? Excuse me! Sir!”

The next battle droid in line immediately stumbled when Din’s boot connected with its leg and dropped its cargo box but after it picked itself up, it suddenly back-handed Din across the dock and took off running. Groaning in pain, Din scrambled to his feet while Bo-Katan fired her blaster at the fleeing battle droid and sprinted after it, quickening his pace once he realized that they were dangerously close to the city streets; he could hear Bo-Katan running behind him as the battle droid knocked over a stack of rubbish and while he jumped over the makeshift obstacle, the Nite Owl propelled herself into the air to avoid the scattered mess. The alleyway opened up into a crowded street and frightened citizens screamed as the battle droid barreled through them, and Din and Bo-Katan were forced to shove their way after it.

Illuminated by the colorful neon lights of the various shopfronts, the imposing battle droid stopped to pick up a cargo box and throw it at them; Bo-Katan activated her jetpack to fly beneath the cargo box while Din dropped to his knees and slid on the smooth stone that paved the street. His body ached in protest but he pushed on, racing to catch up with Bo-Katan as she pursued the battle droid down another alleyway; the moment they emerged from the alley and stepped onto another street, they were forced to drop to the ground to avoid a power unit hurtling straight towards them, which exploded in a ball of fire as they scrambled to their feet and ran after the fleeing droid.

“Keep going!” Din shouted to Bo-Katan before peeling off and sprinting down the less-crowded adjacent alleyway; the battle droid passed the next opening before Din could reach it, forcing him to run into a cantina to continue his pursuit. Patrons shrieked in fright and darted out of his way as he charged through the cantina and when he caught sight of the nearest window, he seized the opportunity and dove straight through it; he tackled the battle droid and they landed on the street in a flurry of shattered glass, and he scrambled to draw his blaster as the battle droid jumped to its feet. But before it could attack, several blaster shots rang through the air and the destroyed droid collapsed onto the street to reveal Bo-Katan holstering her weapons.

“Are you all right?” The Nite Owl asked as she crossed the street and helped Din stand; when he gave her a breathless nod, her shoulders relaxed and they watched four constable droids surround them and the lifeless battle droid and project holographic crime scene barriers to keep any curious civilians away.

“This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back.”

They both looked down at the battle droid’s sparking remains and Bo-Katan crouched to retrieve a rectangular object fastened at its waist. “I found a spark pad.”

Din’s brow furrowed beneath his helmet. “What’s it say?”

“‘The Resistor.’”

“Sounds like a droid bar.”

When Bo-Katan stood, she flipped the spark pad over and arched a brow before showing him the Aurebesh printing. “And there’s an address.”

The Nite Owl started down the street and with an exasperated sigh, Din ignored his aching muscles and followed after her. It was going to be a long, long night.

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

Mando-a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain K’oyacyi, ner kotep beroya-Come back safely, my brave bounty hunter Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain

A/N: Like I said last week, we’re having work done in the house and it’s been difficult finding time to write, but I’ll hopefully have the next chapter up on time! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​​​​​​ @sinon36​​​​​​ @seninjakitey​​​​​​ @thatonedindjarinfan​​​​​​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​ @welcometothepedroverse​​​​​​ @sarahjkl82-blog​​​​​​ @elinedjarin​​​​​​ @itsnottilly​​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​ @impala1967666​​​​​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​​​​​ @icee228​​​​​​​ @siimiasoi​​​​

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #baby yoda #bo katan kryze #the dutchess #captain bombardier #comissioner helgait #axe woves #koska reeves #star wars #din djarin x f!reader

[teecupangel]

Mandolorian Desmond AU?

When you think about it, there are really not that many changes that need to be made to make a Mandalorian Desmond AU because the Mandalorians have a lot of similarities with the Brotherhood.

Hell, they even have their own ‘Creed’.

So, for this setup, we’ll incorporate Desmond’s backstory to fit with Mandalorian culture.

In this scenario, Desmond is a Mandalorian instead of a Foundling. He would be the son of two Mandalorians with his father being the leader of their Clan, one of the most secretive Clans of Mandalorians and some even believe they were a myth.

To Desmond, he was simply living in a secret isolated compound known only as the Farm.

Just like all Mandalorians and Foundlings, he would start his training as a child but it would be harsh and brutal for him. He would grow up being unable to satisfy his father and his mother spends most of her time off-world as a bounty hunter.

Things become much harder for him when his mother returned with a Foundling named Lucy. She joined their training and it became clear that she had the skills to thrive in their training. The other children begin to whisper that, given enough time, she would be able to dethrone Desmond from the top spot of their ‘class’.

Isolated by the rank of his father and his own single-mindedness to please him, none of the children tried to console him nor say that it was bullshit since, by the time she could reach Desmond, Desmond would have gotten better as well.

Instead, the whispering and his father’s silence broke Desmond and he… just stopped trying.

He did the bare minimum and no amount of his father’s ‘pushing’ worked until…

Finally, Lucy did surpass him and they all ‘graduated’.

Desmond left the Farm and became a bounty hunter like his mother, taking odd jobs here and there. He pretty much cut off any relationship he had with the Farm but he does answer when they call. They rarely ever call though. The most contact he has with the Farm were his mother who showed him the basics and gave him some tips on bounty hunting before leaving him alone but, at that point, he saw her more as a teacher than an actual parent so he simply ignored the aching of his chest, and Lucy who liked to leave him messages about what she’s doing. He doesn’t understand why Lucy was sending him these messages and never bothered sending a message back although he does read them.

It’s fine. He knows Lucy didn’t think he would answer anyway.

Everybody in their Clan knows…

He was alone.

Whatever plot you’d like to have can be pushed by making Lucy send a message that catches Desmond’s attention. If you want Desmond to interact with Din Djarin, the setup could be that Lucy is in a spot of bother after allying herself with Din Djarin in a quest gone wrong.

Unorganized Notes:

Their Clan is part of a bigger Family and Desmond would find out from the other Mandalorians that their Family is one of the most secretive Families out there with one of the Clans having ties to the first ruler of the Mandalorians. Desmond calls bullshit on that 'connection' though.

Their Clan is also ostracized by a lot of other Clans because of how they trained their young. Their Family is also not that well-liked because they tend to… be less honorable than usual, having no qualms with dirtying their hands to get the job done. Desmond would later find out that, even by Mandalorian standards, he’s actually better than most of them due to his training. This only ends up making him feel even more isolated.

To further incorporate AC Lore, the Mandalorians are what the Brotherhood had evolved to but, because of how long it has been, it’s not the same Brotherhood anymore. Only hints of its origin remain in Mandalorian culture with even the Creed having evolved into something else. On the other hand, Desmond’s Family is the closest to the Brotherhood’s successor even if they have been heavily influenced by Mandalorian culture and tradition.

If you wish to include other non-modern Assassin’s Creed characters (like Altaïr, Ezio, and Ratonhnhaké:ton), they can all be part of the same Family as Desmond but as part of one of the other Clans.

For more twists and turns, this could be the setup where Desmond Miles let the world burn and the survivors used Isu tech to travel to another planet to start anew. This planet would later be called Mandalore and Desmond Miles is actually the first ruler of the Mandalorians, his real name having been lost in the passage of time. Our Mandalorian Desmond could be a reincarnation of Desmond Miles or we can totally HZD this and be an actual clone of Desmond Miles, taken from some kind of DNA sample (perhaps called Sample 17???), and his father’s disappointment in him is because he simply cannot match up to the legend of Desmond Miles.

#mandalorian desmond #yeah i call it quests #din is like… an rpg quest master at this point #assassin's creed #desmond miles #lucy stillman #do i tag star wars in general or just the mandalorian? #shrug #when in doubt #don't add any XD #teecup writes/has a plot #ask and answer #fic idea: assassin's creed

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 3) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: The Wielder

Summary: The true wielder of the Darksaber fights for Mandalore.

Mouse Note: And here is the moment of what I see as the biggest writing failure of Season 3 of the Mandalorian and the only issue I had with it. So, naturally, I fixed it. Also, the best chapter I wrote in this series. I hope you guys enjoy!

            The Darksaber hummed with energy in (Y/N)’s hands. The Mandalorians and Moff watching them froze in shock at just how easily (Y/N) held the blade. (Y/N) threw out their free hand, and Gideon flew backwards, struggling to come to a halt as (Y/N) stood.

            They rolled their wrist, ignoring the ache of their side. The Darksaber thrummed with power by their side as (Y/N) stood tall and watched as Gideon straightened. He watched them warily. The saber seemed to react much too naturally to their grip as if meant for them.

            And it was.

            The pieces came together in the watchers’ minds. Mando remembered (Y/N) disarming Gideon, destroying his chance of victory on the cruiser so long ago. Bo-Katan recalled (Y/N) killing the creature that had trapped Mando. If there had been any doubt in the blade, each moment solidified (Y/N) as the true wielder of the Darksaber.

            (Y/N) spun the Darksaber at their side once more. The silver light danced across their burnt orange Ushti markings. “What’s the matter, Gideon? I thought you wanted to kill the Mandalorians. Don’t tell me you’re hesitating.”

            Gideon growled beneath his helmet and gripped his staff tightly. He ran at (Y/N) and swung his staff down. (Y/N) blocked, spun, and slashed down at Gideon. The beskar alloy of his armor didn’t hold up against the pure lightsaber.

              His helmet shattered as he reared back. Gideon’s eyes were vessels of pure malice as he glared at (Y/N). They had destroyed his clones, taken the Darksaber for themself, and now they had proven beskar alloy wasn’t a match to the real deal. They were destroying everything Gideon had built.

            Gideon swung his staff down, and (Y/N) parried. Each move Gideon made, (Y/N) mirrored with form they had spent hours on alongside Luke. Even without a lightsaber, his training had instilled in them the instincts needed to fight.

            Mando watched in amazement, holding Grogu closer protectively as he tried to push himself up. His ad’ika had grown so much, and although his stomach curled in worry about (Y/N), he couldn’t help the tide of pride sweeping over him. The Armorer was right. They had the makings of a great Mandalorian, and they were barely getting started.

            Bo-Katan’s eyes widened beneath her helmet as she watched (Y/N) fight. The Darksaber swung effortlessly in their hands, meant to be there. That was the power it was supposed to instill in its wielder. (Y/N) was perfectly matched for it. Every part of their fight seemed instinctual—(Y/N) was born for it.

            Gideon was a raging monster. Each move was filled with anger, slashing and spinning and hitting at the teenager before him. He was driven only by pure greed to win, to destroy. He needed kill (Y/N), drive them into dust. Gideon had to win the Darksaber back, defeat Mandalore, become the great leader the Empire needs. He just needed to kill the Jedi first.

            (Y/N) was calm and practiced. Each violent attack on them was parried with smooth precision. (Y/N) was in their element. Every motion felt practiced and right. The Darksaber hummed with approval, whispering encouragement as they fought. (Y/N) felt the Force thrum as they jumped and pushed Gideon back. They were nowhere near a master, but the fight was in their blood.

            “This fight is mine!” snarled Gideon. He slammed his staff down, and (Y/N) braced against it. “I will erase this planet.” He pressed down, and (Y/N) was forced to their knees. “And I will erase you, an Ushti who will die a no one!” He kicked out, and (Y/N) grunted as they slid backwards. Their pirate injury was bleeding heavily again. “You are nothing!”

            “(Y/N)!” cried Mando, pulling himself towards them.

            (Y/N) looked at him and felt themself push up to their feet again. The Darksaber thrummed louder with power as pure determination overtook them.

            “I am (Y/N) of the Ushti Hilo Clan,” said (Y/N), kicking Gideon.

            He grunted as he stumbled back.

            “I am Force-Sensitive, trained by Luke Skywalker,” said (Y/N), throwing a hand out.

            Gideon flew backwards, slamming into a container behind him. His staff clattered away across the floor.

            “I know who I am,” said (Y/N).

            Gideon pushed up to his feet, his powered armor supporting him. He glared at (Y/N). “I will kill you and take that saber for myself. Mandalore will fall to its knees before me.”

            (Y/N) paused and gazed at the Darksaber in their hands.

            They looked to their buir, the brave Mandalorian fighting for his planet and his people, forged by bonds of loyalty, stronger than blood.

            They glanced at Grogu, their brother, cooing for them, reaching out to support them with the Force, their family.

            They turned to Bo-Katan, the princess of Mandalore, the woman who had never given up on her planet, dedicated her life to protecting and serving her people.

            They watched the Armorer fight, willing to risk herself and her people to bring Mandalore back and forge a new era.

            They saw the Nite Owls and Covert battling for Mandalore, ready to unite for their home and bring Mandalore back to glory.

             They felt the pure determination to protect the Mandalorian Way radiating from everyone fighting for their home.

            “No,” said (Y/N). They knew what needed to be done.

            “No?” Gideon crowed with laughter. “You don’t have a choice. One by one I will end the Mandalorians and raze Mandalore until all that is left is ruins and me, victorious with the Darksaber, ruler of Mandalore in the Empire’s image!”

            “No,” said (Y/N) again. “You don’t get it. Mandalore isn’t yours. It will never be yours. It won’t be ruled by someone like you.” They gripped the Darksaber tightly. “And if this weapon means you have a chance to, then I will make sure you never have the chance to wield it.”

            Gideon laughed cruelly. “I will always have the chance. Mandalore is ruled by it. I had it once, I will possess it again.”

            (Y/N) shook their head. “No, you won’t. Because Mandalore shouldn’t be ruled by a single weapon. Mandalore deserves to be ruled by someone who fights for it, who protects its people.”

            The Darksaber deactivated at their side. (Y/N)’s hands slid up around it, and their grip tightened.

            “I won’t let Mandalore be destroyed over this anymore,” they said. “I won’t let Mandalore succumb to darkness.”

            The Force thrummed, and (Y/N) pressed it into the hilt.

            Gideon’s eyes widened. “No!” he shouted, rushing for them.

            Mando’s eyes widened, and Grogu cooed in worry. Bo-Katan gasped.

           (Y/N) pressed their hands together.

            The Darksaber shattered.

            The blade exploded.

            The reverberation of power sent (Y/N) and Gideon flying. Mando closed his eyes behind his visor and brought his hand up to guard Grogu, whose ears flattened in fear. Bo-Katan shut her eyes and turned her head away from the blast. Above the platform, the Armorer, Nite Owls, Covert, and troopers were all forced to stop to watch the explosion billow out from their leaders below.

           Mando's eyes opened, and he was immediately scanning for (Y/N). He could see them lying a few feet from where they'd stood, lying on their side. Blood splattered the ground beneath them. His eyes widened. "Ad'ika!" he cried. His heart leapt for joy as he saw (Y/N) stir.

           (Y/N) pushed themself shakily onto their arms. They coughed, blood seeping from the wound on their side. Around them, shards of crystal from the Darksaber glinted like dying stars on the ground. (Y/N) swept their hand over them, pulling them to their pocket. They still respected the Darksaber—it only ever wanted to serve Mandalore as it had its original wielder—but they had to destroy it. Anyone could hurt Mandalore and rip its people apart once more if the Darksaber existed.

            A few meters away of them, Gideon lay in a heap on the ground. The pure energy of the explosion had cracked his beskar alloy, the amalgamation of metals unable to handle the power of a lightsaber. It was no equal to pure beskar, only a perversion of the Empire.

            Gideon lifted his head, and his eyes widened as he saw scraps of metal lying across the ground, as destroyed as his ambitions. “What…have you done?!” he shouted, trying to pull himself up. His now useless armor just weighed him down as if the beskar itself was fighting against him, trying to protect Mandalore.

            “I made sure no one like you can ever divide Mandalore again,” said (Y/N), their voice even with pure conviction.

            They pushed themself to their feet. Blood dripped down their side, and they pressed a hand to it futilely. Their hand came away stained red, but that wasn’t going to stop them. They stepped towards him. One movement at a time, even as their body screamed at them, (Y/N) advanced on Gideon.

            Above them, the Mandalorians were finishing their battle. The sky erupted into flames as the cruiser crashed towards the surface of the planet. Bo-Katan and Mando were shakily pulling themselves to their feet.

            The battle was ending. And it was time for Gideon’s reign to end as well.

            (Y/N) stood over Gideon before falling to their knees. Their eyes were set with determination as they met his gaze, still filled with malice and promises of cruelty if he ever stood again.

            But (Y/N) had made a promise too.

            “I swore I would kill you,” said (Y/N) calmly.

            Gideon chuckled cruelly and sneered. “Jedi don’t kill for revenge.”

            (Y/N) reached out and pulled their beskar Ushti dagger from Gideon’s belt. The silver metal ran red with the blood dripping from their hand. Their eyes were set with purpose as they met Gideon’s gaze.

            “I’m not a Jedi. I’m a Mandalorian.”

            Gideon’s eyes widened.

            “This is the Way.”

            (Y/N) plunged their dagger down.

            Gideon gasped, coughing for air and reaching out for (Y/N) as they ripped their knife away and pulled back. “Manda—lorian…” He fell back, limp.

            It was over.

            (Y/N) stumbled back before collapsing to the floor. They fell into silver armor as Mando pushed himself forward to his ad’ika.

            “Buir…?” coughed (Y/N), gazing blearily up at Mando as the blood loss caught up to them.

            “I’m here, Ad’ika. We’re here,” said Mando, holding them close. (Y/N) relaxed in his hold in exhaustion. Grogu reached out for their arm and cooed comfortingly.

            “We need to get out of here!” warned Bo-Katan.

            Above them, the cruiser was crashing down on the base. Axe had made it to them, and he was going to destroy every remnant of the Empire on Mandalore.

            Good, thought (Y/N) through the delirium of blood loss, A clean slate for Mandalore…

            “My jetpack is out of fuel,” said Mando, holding (Y/N) tighter and reaching for Grogu. He wasn’t sure he could protect them, but he’d be with them.

            Bo-Katan gazed up at the crashing cruiser. “Mine too.” She activated her small energy shield. “But I’m with you until the end.”

            “Buir,” murmured (Y/N) as their head lulled against Mando’s chest. They weren’t sure if they’d be able to speak again. Their injuries were agonizing, and the heat of the flaming cruiser was rushing over their skin. “Buir…I love you.”

            Mando sucked in a breath, and he pulled (Y/N) and Grogu closer. “I love you, too, (Y/N). You and Grogu are my adike. I love you.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and their eyes fluttered close. If they were dying, then at least they were happy. The final scene they saw before them as they fell into unconsciousness was Grogu raising a hand before them as the flames rushed towards them.

            The Force hummed as Grogu’s power rose around them.

            (Y/N) smiled.

            This is the Way.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite



#clan of three #x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #nb reader #x nb reader #x teen reader #x teen!reader #platonic #platonic x reader #father figure #found family trope #found family #mando x teen!reader #mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian #mando x reader #mandolorian x teen reader #mandolorian x teen!reader #mandalorian x teen reader #mandalorian x teen!reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x jedi reader #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x teen reader

[kalevalakryze]

The Protector

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV) Pairings: Bo-Katan Kryze &Sabine Wren, Din Djarin & Bo-Katan Kryze Characters: Sabine Wren, Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin  Warnings: No Graphic Tags, Sparring, Depression Era Bo-Katan Kryze Notes: For @whumptober 2023 Day 19 & @sabineweek Bingo Prompt Fill "Mandalorian Protectors" & Sabine Week prompt "Sabine and Bo-Katan." Timeline is set around Mandalorian S3. Prompt: Sabine & Bo-Katan | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.” | Mandalorian Protectors AU Word Count: 3,120 AO3 Link: Here!

The perimeter alarms went off in a way that brought goosebumps to Sabine’s skin. There weren’t many beings alive who knew Clan Kryze’s ancestral home still sat on Kalevala, and from the list of those alive, even fewer could be trusted to show with less than hostile intentions. 

Her helmet was pulled on in short order; Bo-Katan did not utter a word to her protector as she stalked from the desolate Throne Room. Rain fell in thick droplets, rapid in their descent to the earth and in their journey of thoroughly soaking the thick material of Sabine’s flight suit. 

The N-1 was bright, chrome plating catching the flashes of lightning as it arced from the skies from several kilometers away. The pilot was just as reflective as his starship, fresh, unpainted armor catching the ever-present gloom of the storm as he landed. There was no Death Watch signet on his armor, and no threat in the way he exited his ship, in fact, the Mandalorian hadn’t even acknowledged the Protector upon his exit, instead turning back to his ship to prepare something from inside. 

Sabine’s fingers flexed towards the Westars at her side, peering through the raindrops on her visor as he worked. She could not see what was loaded into the pram, but soon, white-painted durasteel hovered two feet from the Mandalorian’s side, and he’d finally graced her with his acknowledgment. “I’m here to see Lady Bo-Katan Kryze,” He began, the wind caught most of his voice through the vocoder, chin raising as he regarded the strange woman and stranger armor. 

“She is not here, you should leave,” Sabine called, shoulders squared and chest puffing out as she regarded the unknown man. Bo-Katan had mentioned a Mandalorian fitting the description of the man, but as her sole Protector, she couldn’t be too careful. 

The Mandalorian paused, hopelessness sagging his frame. “Could you pass along a message, from a friend?”

Walking in long strides, Din Djarin had to move fast to keep at Sabine’s heels, the pram floating behind the two Mandalorians, and raindrops falling to the old carpet where it dripped from their armor. Bo-Katan did not raise her empty stare from indents in the floor, even as their purposeful strides bounced off the cavernous walls. 

“Lady Kryze,” Sabine pulled her helmet from her head, tucking it under her arm as she approached to bow her head, purple strands of hair falling in her face as she did so. Din seemed taken aback at this, but wisely allowed the Protector to continue once she’d garnered the attention of the Princess. “Din Djarin has come for you,” 

The chrome Mandalorian stepped past Sabine, allowing her to take her place to Bo-Katan’s side once more, boots having long since worn into the stone from her weeks of silent vigil at the older woman’s side. “I have come to join you,” He called, imitating Sabine’s posture; shoulders squared, chest puffed out, chin raised. At least an uncivilized member of the coverts could show some respect to the Leader of their people…

For the first time of the day, Bo-Katan’s weight shifted in the throne. Sabine felt the warmth of relief as Bo-Katan’s shoulders rolled. “There’s nothing left to join,” Bo-Katan refused to see it in her grief, that there was something to join, yet Sabine could not step from her place, it was not her duty to make the woman see that, not yet at least. 

Sabine’s head turned away as Din turned to stare at her for an explanation. Her teeth gritted and her fingers flexed around the rim of her helmet. It took a lot to keep her mouth shut, but she’d been trained for this, and had devoted her life to this. If Bo-Katan was not ready, Sabine could not force her…

Din’s confusion showed in his tone, his weight moved from the balls of his feet to his heels. “What of your plans to retake Mandalore?”

Bo-Katan scoffed and Sabine winced. “When I returned without the dark saber… My forces melted away,” Those piercing chartreuse eyes settled on her, bringing the younger Mandalorian to attention. She was the only one who’d stayed, after all. She was sworn not to the dark saber, but to Bo-Katan, and would continue to be until her death in battle. 

Din still seemed confused by this, his head shook in disbelief. “Then where is the stolen fleet?” He hadn’t spotted the stolen imperial ships on the surface, but he’d known the lengths she’d gone through to acquire such a scale for her nite owls. 

The muscles in Sabine’s jaw flexed. She had no kind thoughts on the usurpation of Bo-Katan Kryze for the spineless brute that had rallied her own forces against her. She’d kept her tabs on each of them and had watched every moral Lady Kryze had bestowed upon them all melt away under the promise of a handful of credits. “Making their way across the galaxy..” Bo-Katan answered, beskar catching on the smooth stone of her throne as her weight dropped back again. “As mercenaries,” She added almost sourly. 

Din Djarin’s head turned to the protector then, looking at the armored warrior from the paint splatter on her greaves to the colorful mark that named her commander of the guard stamped proudly into her breastplate. “Why have you stayed, then?” 

Golden eyes flickered towards Bo-Katan, though the woman had looked away pointedly. “Where she goes… I go,” The younger woman declared pridefully. There would never be any uncertainty about where her loyalties lay, ever since she joined the Mandalorian Protectors and had found the Regent Leader working as a Rebel. Saxon didn’t need her, and Mandalore hadn’t needed another to join the cause of bleeding it dry. Bo-Katan had freed the planet, and herself, and while the Imperials reigned havoc upon their homes, she would never forget the kindness that had come in war. 

“Do you still have the saber?”

“...I do”

“Then you lead them,” There was disdain in her tone, Bo-Katan was weary of the interaction already, it seemed. Sabine released a slow breath as she slipped her helmet back over her head, preparing to escort the chrome Mandalorian from Clan Kryze’s castle. “Wave that thing around, and they’ll do whatever you say.” 

“So you… gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?” There was a sadness in his voice, one Sabine could echo. Bo-Katan and herself had argued extensively about the planet’s survivability, and if saving their home would even be worth it. Each time, it seemed to only dull the woman’s will to do much more than sit upon the throne and mope. 

Coming from Din Djarin, however, this seemed to spark anger. Bo-Katan’s lip curled, and Sabine had to calculate the time it would take her to leap between the two. For a woman who spoke of the heaps of Mandalorian blood spilled by her own, she was always so ready to attack even the slightest offense, to defend herself and her honor, oftentimes forgetting that she had Sabine to help carry that weight. 

“Your cult gave up on Mandalore.” She snarled, muscles in her jaw twitching, though neither Heiress or Child of the Watch moved for their weapon, despite stirring hostilities. Still, Sabine took a step down, closer to the apex of tension between them all. “Long before the purge,” A deep breath as the older woman’s brows furrowed, her weight shifted forward and her eyes narrowed. “Where were you then?” 

“The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before,” Her voice dropped; Bo-Katan had never been one to shy away from her part in Mandalore’s destruction or in the part those fallen, fragmented members of her clan had in the division of their people. “Fractured and shattered our people…. Go home… There’s nothing left.” Sabine’s chin dropped at the conviction in Bo-Katan’s voice. It was the same argument, with a different, hopeful Mandalorian in her place. 

Din Djarin did not back down, however, and Sabine had to commend such an act. “I am going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the living waters, and be forgiven for my transgressions,” 

There was something familiar in his tone, a voice that had been mimicked by Tristan when he’d run off to the Imperial Academy and returned to Krownest years later with a Jetti and a band of rebels. A promise in his voice that she knew from experience could only be put down with death. Maybe Bo-Katan needed her own Tristan, like she had… A look towards the redhead’s quiet, seething form had told her that no, Din Djarin was not the spark that would reignite the fire of Bo-Katan Kryze. 

“You are a fool.” Her weight shifted against the throne once more. The woman was finished with the conversation, that much was clear, as her tired gaze moved to Sabine before lingering back to empty walls, sinking back into the ghosts of her memories, in paintings that had been taken off the walls when the wails of their ancestors grew too loud. 

“There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore,” She continued, eyes moving across the stone, as if she was watching the choppy animating of a children’s holofilm play out. “They supplied beskar ore to our ancestors, and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned.” 

“You said that the curse was a lie. Make up your mind,” 

Sabine did not often wear her helmet outside of battle, but now she was thankful for the beskar hiding the way her lips split into a smile. He certainly had a fire in him, that was undeniable. 

“If you want to go to the mines,” Bo-Katan finally turned to look at him once again. “Be my guest. They’re beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari,” 

“Thank you… And I will find out if the planet is really poisoned.” Sabine finally moved from her post to escort the spitfire as he turned away from Bo-Katan. 

“Goodbye, Din Djarin.”

“He’s got a point, Lady Kryze,” Sabine began upon her return to the throne room, frowning at the way Bo-Katan sat back on the throne, a gauntleted arm thrown over her eyes in frustration. 

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Wren,” Bo-Katan snapped without looking at her. Sabine let out a soft sigh as she jogged up the stairs of the throne. The younger Mandalorian sighed as she removed Bo-Katan’s helmet from the side of the throne, setting it carefully on the floor under the hawk-like gaze of its owner until she’d removed her own and set it at her side as well.

Carefully, Sabine perched on the arm of the throne, hands in her lap, nervously picking at the fabric that covered her knuckles. “You’re the smartest person I know, Lady Kryze, nothing is going to change that-”

A scoff from the redhead, as she turned her body to face the back of the throne, armor scraping against each other as she curled her legs onto the chair with her. For someone who stood so tall and took up so much space, it made her chest ache to see her let the world swallow her up. 

“Would you like to spar, my lady?” 

This, at least, seemed to get some life from the woman. Sabine needed to keep active, and as much as she liked running the trails around the castle or dancing around the cavernous rooms, a good fight was what they both needed to get the blood pumping and burn off Lady Kryze’s simmering stockpile of rage. 

Bo-Katan was always a ferocious sight in battle. Being able to witness the woman’s prowess in battle was like having a front row seat to the stories passed down between clans, of warriors with the fires of the Great Forge burning under their hal’cabur, bending the battlefield to their demand as they fought for what was right.

There were no stormtroopers to be found under her fist, yet, as the woman taped her knuckles on the other side of the mats, Sabine could still feel the tangible thrum of anticipation, a thundering in her heart at the promise of being the one to pull the Mand’alor from her stupor, however brief it may be. 

Shaking the throes of anxiety from her fingertips, the Protector stretched her arms above her head, palm locking against the opposing elbow until the familiar stretch in her arms thrummed through muscle. Bo-Katan was occupied on the other side; while she did was not one to miss her morning exercises, it had been all too long since she’d allowed the armor to come off. Sabine filed the knowledge away to polish it for the woman later, if all things worked according to plan. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, little Wren.” There was humor in her voice was she spoke, yellow-green eyes unblinking as she adjusted the way the dark blue material rested across her knuckles. 

“My apologies, Lady Kryze,” The woman’s voice held no apology, but the hints of mirth that Bo-Katan had come to appreciate in her company. A smirk tugged at full lips as Sabine released her arm, swinging them out to loosen up before repeating the process on the other side. 

“Alright, Protector, let’s see if you’ve still got it,” There was a spark in her eyes, an ember of something that had been doused by so many before, but not quite put out, not yet, not while Sabine had anything to do with it, at least. 

Bo-Katan waited for Sabine to strike first, air displacing around her fist as she jabbed out, using her forward momentum to follow Bo-Katan’s sidestep up with an elbow jabbed outwards. Bo caught the elbow against her forearm, shoving Sabine back to stagger her momentum. 

“You start with that?” Bo-Katan taunted, sharp eyebrow raised as Sabine spun on her heel, fingers flexing as golden eyes reassessed. 

“Had to make sure you were going to be on your game, this time. Didn’t want to leave you in the dust like-”

Before Sabine could finish, she was put into a terse defense as Bo-Katan snapped forward. Blow after blow was caught on forearms and the meat of her thighs, muscles aching and shaking under the feeling of bruises blooming under powerful hits. 

Bo-Katan wasn’t holding back, a smile seemed to pull at her lips as she sunk into the familiar burn, a predator pushing their prey to the bring, playing with their food… It was the most Bo-Katan had seemed like herself since capturing the Imperial fleet and laying eyes upon the dark saber once more. 

Before Sabine knew it, a foot was hooking behind her ankle, her body was being pitched forward into a steady column of the older Mandalorian’s body, and, in a last-ditch attempt to regain some control of the situation, they were soon both tumbling to the mats, Sabine’s arms circled around Bo-Katan’s shoulders, pinning one arm under her own as her back hit the mats. 

With Bo-Katan’s foot wedged around her shin, the purple-haired Protector was able to koala both legs over the one, knees locking around the thick muscle of Bo-Katan’s thigh as she pitched them to the side, hands scraping, burning against the rough material of the mat as her hands rubbed flat into the floor, pushing herself off the redhead just enough to get a hand on her shoulder.

From the corners of her eyes, she could see the way purple and blue were already beginning to bloom across olive skin, could see the way the freckled skin flushed, sweat-slick and almost shining in artificial lights. Bo-Katan said nothing, breathing through parted lips, a much quieter contrast to the deep swallows Sabine was breathing. Intermingled and tangled, Sabine stared down at the older woman, shock and a sliver of fear at being the one to get the Bo-Katan Kryze on her back.

The silence dragged with Sabine frozen in spot, and Bo-Katan’s eyes raking inquisitively over the protector. 

It took a rush of… something, surely not confidence, that had words spilling past Sabine’s lips, words she had mulled over and had not considered articulating when Bo-Katan seemed desperate to stew in her misery. “Lady Kryze-” She paused as if waiting for permission to continue, however, she forged on before the woman could acknowledge her. The younger woman sat up, leaning back against the redhead’s bent knees. “If there is a way to reclaim Mandalore, don’t you think we should? Mandalorians… we’re stronger together,” Her finger twitched against the soft fabric of the woman’s tank top, anxiety brimming over the surface as the embers in her eyes simmered. 

“I’ll take one final step,” Bo breathed, voice dark and heavy, lips smoothing into a mask of dispassion as her hands settled against Sabine’s arms, fingertips dancing across bruised elbows before she was guiding the young Protector off of her. Letting herself drop to the mats beside her, Sabine reached to brush her hair out of the way, watching Bo-Katan as she rose and wiped the sweat from her brow. “All you have to do is make me.” When Bo-Katan rose next, she extended a hand down to the woman below her. “Show me…” A pause, like the woman was reconsidering this moment of vulnerability, even with the woman who had seen her through her worst times. “Show me the way, Wren.”

Something itched at the back of Sabine’s mind. The Jetti paired with Tristan’s ‘Ghost’ crew had mentioned the Force to her once, nothing but passing in an explanation of a blind man and his blue son, but from how her vod’ika had explained it, she could only consider it to the feeling of the Manda. When she reached to take Bo-Katan’s hand, there was a flash of the image, distorting in the Manda’s memory of gold and grey armor, reaching to take the blue gauntlet of the woman before her. 

Ursa Wren had once been this person for Bo-Katan Kryze, and she had met her end for it, at the hands of Moff Gideon. Bo was danger, she was carnage and blood and ruin. But Sabine always did have an affinity for volatile experiences and people. Ticking bombs were her specialty, and no matter how long the charge that was her Mand’alor lay dormant, Sabine was her mother’s daughter. She knew the risks, and the dangers that came with it, and time and time again, the Wren would follow the Owl to ruin. 

Sabine’s hand clasped in Bo-Katan’s as the image steadied, offering a stretch of her lips, a smile as she tugged Bo-Katan until their shoulders bumped. “Then let’s get to work, my lady.”

#sabine bingo #whumptober2023 #no.19 #lyrics #I'm not as stupid as you think I am #star wars #the mandalorian #Bo-Katan Kryze #Sabine Wren #Fanfiction #depression tw #Mandalorian Protectors #bobine #bo katan kryze #din djarin

[dyns33]

Flufftober 29 - The Mandalorian

Din Djarin x reader

There had always been several clans of Mandalorians, who didn't really get along.

But all more or less agreed on one point : the Betazorian clan was the worst of all.

Even worse than the Children of the Watch.

Using technology and knowledge that they jealously guarded, they had dared to modify the Beskar, making it more flexible, more malleable, of a dark colour, close to the material of the dark saber, which was nevertheless reserved for the leader, and forging armour and weapons that made them nearly indestructible.

A real blasphemy.

They were known to be violent. Swift, merciless, leaving no survivors.

They didn't really follow the creed, chasing money and power, respecting nothing, only thinking about their own gain, being ready to kill everyone to get what they wanted, even members of their own clan.

Some said they had been banned. Others that they were gone of their own accord. In any case, they had left Mandalore before the purge, and many wondered if they had sold the other Mandalorians to the Empire.

There was no evidence, but it was their style.

After they left, there had been many legends about the Betazorians, but no one could say they had ever seen one in person. It was impossible to tell how many there were, where they were, and what they were doing.

O all this, Din Djarin did not care at all.

He too had never met a Betazorian, he was not looking for them, too busy taking care of his own clan, while doing several missions for the guild.

For him, it was just a children's story, to test young recruits by trying to scare them, nothing more.

He had travelled the galaxy for years. If there were any Betazorians still alive, he would know.

For some time, he had the chance to have Y/N at his side to help him a bit. They had met in a small town, he had done her a favour, she had asked him if he needed an extra crew member.

The young woman was quite a good mechanic, clever, avoiding fights but knowing how to defend herself, and most importantly, she was taking care of Grogu when he had to be away, and the kid liked her.

Din liked her too. But he didn't quite know how to tell her. He wasn't sure if he should tell her. Everything was going perfectly well and he didn't want to scare her away.

Then there was a problem with one of his missions. The ship was attacked, the enemies were too numerous for him to deal with all of them, and then Y/N had done something strange.

After getting Grogu to safety, she pressed down on the black bracelet she always wore and an armour materialized around her, complete with a helmet that looked very much like a Mandalorian's.

No weapon seemed to have any effect on her, nor punches, and she crossed the battlefield without the slightest difficulty, killing attackers one after another, until there was no one left.

Din was speechless.

When she took off her armour, Y/N looked a little scared. By him. Taking Grogu in her arms, she asked him not to ask any question.

He didn't.

But he thought for several days about what had happened, about these combat techniques, about this armour, and when he went to see the Armorer to bring her resources, he stupidly asked her if she had ever heard of such technology.

           "... A black armour ? Similar to ours, but stronger, and materialising ?"

           "Yes."

           "You met a Betazorian, Din Djarin. You are lucky to still be alive."

           "... No. She's not... It can't be. They're killers, traitors. They don't ally with other Mandalorians."

           "Maybe your 'friend' has plans for you. Like handing you over to the last members of the Empire, along with the child. Be careful. You can't trust her."

When he returned to the ship, he found Grogu all alone, in his small bed, with food and his favourite toy. Except he wasn't interested by it at all, staring desperately at the door and making strange squeaks when he saw Din, fidgeting a lot.

Searching everywhere, the Mandalorian realized that Y/N was no longer there. He prepared for the worst, expecting an attack from the Empire, but nothing happened. She was just gone.

Despite the pain of this betrayal, Din tried to go on his way as if everything was fine. It was not easy, and it was even less so for Grogu.

The kid really got attached to Y/N. He obviously missed her a lot. He refused to eat, to sleep, running around the ship, throwing his toy, and crying.

           "I can't do anything, kid. She's gone. Eat, you love it."

           "Pato ! Ga !"

           "You have to eat."

           "Pa !"

           "... I can try to find her. But it won't help. She's a Mandalorian, like me. She knows how to hide, and she won't be happy to be followed."

           "Pitalo !"

           "Very well." Din sighed, knowing the kid was stubborn.

As he had expected, it was not an easy task to find Y/N. He was even convinced when if he managed to locate her, it was only because she had decided to let him find her.

She had settled on a small planet, in the forest, far from everything.

Not knowing how she would react, he left Grogu in the ship, closing the doors behind him so the kid wouldn't follow, before heading back to her camp.

Y/N was sitting by the fire. She didn't seem surprised to see him, she didn't move, watching him carefully.

           "I wasn't sure you would come."

           "I wasn't sure you wanted me to come."

           "It depends. Are you following me because you want to kill me, or do you need something ?"

           "... Grogu misses you."

This answer seemed to surprise her. Y/N frowned, as if trying to find out if he was serious.

           "I miss him too." she said slowly. "But you know what I am. What I was, anyway."

           "You could have told me, we could have talked about it."

           "I know very well what the Mandalorians think of the Betazorians. You would have mistrusted me, rightly so."

           "Because I have to be wary of you ?" he asked, tilting his head.

           "No. But the reputation of the Betazorians is not exaggerated. They are cruel, vicious. They were, at least. I am the last. I made sure of it, and I made sure that no one can't find the modified Beskar. I just kept my armour on, just in case."

           "So there are no more Betazorians. Only remnants, and this armour. And the kid who refuses to sleep. You could come back."

           "You believe me ?" Y/N wondered, resuming her sad and frightened expression, exactly the same as when she had used her armour to save his life. "Don't you want to ask me more questions ? Ask me how I know that everyone else is dead ?"

           "Yes. But no. You're not one of them. You're part of my clan."

She looked at him for a long time, trying not to cry. Then she looked down at his feet, starting to smile, and laugh, sobbing slightly. Din followed her gaze and found Grogu, holding his leg as he watched Y/N, visibly pleased to find her.

           "... I told you to stay in the ship."

           "You know he only listens to me." Y/N sighed as she got up to approach, lifting Grogu who began to purr, pressing his face to her neck. "I'm glad to see you again too, little green guy. So you are not sleeping ? You need to sleep. Excuse me, I thought your daddy wouldn't want me to stay while learning the truth."

           "You have proven over and over again that I can trust you. I… hoped I showed you that you could trust me too."

Slowly, Y/N put her hand on his shoulder, and pressed her forehead against his helmet.

Under other circumstances, it wouldn't have bothered Din. But she was also a Mandalorian, so she knew full well what that gesture meant.

           "I missed you too, Din Djarin. Let's go home now."

           "... Yes, Cyare. I mean, Y/N !"

She snickered gently, joined by Grogu, even though the kid couldn't figure out what was funny.

Or else he understood perfectly, since he was the one who had insisted on looking for Y/N, becoming good and calm again only when they were all in the ship, the clan of three finally reunited.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #flufftober 2022

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three - Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: The Apostate

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers and a heavy role to bear. Now reunited their journeys across the galaxy are just beginning to complete their final mission.

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: some wholesome moments, light violence, semi-angst, slight ptsd

------

A covert hidden in the shadows now out in the light though still hidden on a planet. The waters before the cave lap at the shore as a boy stands in the waters other Mandalorians surround him as their leader steps forward a helmet resting in her hands.

“I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…” She starts and the boy recites, “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors…”

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…” 

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

The clans look over the signets glimmer in the sunlight, banners of the smaller clans representing the covert.

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

The Armorer looks down at the boy who stands in the water as he recites the creed, “This is the Way.” She says

“This is the Way.” The boy responds and the whole covert repeats those words. The Armorer raises the helmet placing it on the boy’s head as it covers his face.

“From this moment on, I shall never remove my helmet.” She says and the boy nods, “From this moment on, I shall never…”

The words are interrupted by a dinosaur turtle that storms the beach attacking the Mandalorian covert. The water sprays over them all as the adults rush to kill the creature with their weapons, others getting the children back to the caves.

“Go! Go! Go!”

“Young ones, to the cave!”

It swings its arms and head snapping at them causing the water to pull some other as they fight against the creature and protect their own.

“I got you! I got you!”

The creature eats a few Mandalorians their screams filling the air and the others attempt to plant explosives on the monster but are unable to pierce its thick hide. Grappling cables pierce it trying to subdue the creature. But it’s sheer vast and strength as it rolls flinging Mandalorians attached into the air and some pulled underwater. The Armorer rushes forward saving one of their own only to be thrown back by the creature. The boy rushes forward to try to save the Mandalorian on the ground but the creature charges toward him. Paz Vizsla reaches the child pushing him aside, “Get down!” Firing at the creature as it charges toward him.

Two torpedoes strike the creature at its side distracting it as it turns towards the ship heading off to attack the Mandalorians look spotting a starship heading back towards the creature. Another attack comes from an X-Wing firing straight at its face right as the N-1 fires its final torpedoes killing the creature a large explosion of water and guts comes flying down from the air as the creature screeches before collapsing. The Mandalorians watch as the starfighter and the X-wing land beside the creature, as they draw closer to see who their saviors are. The canopies of both open revealing from the N-1 starfighter the exiled Mandalorian with his child and from the X-wing a mix of both Mandalorian and Jedi.

You both exit your respective ships as Din with Grogu leads towards where the Armorer had walked off to. You’ve never seen this many Mandalorian since Nevarro when they first rescued you and Grogu but it seemed like they have only grown more. Din creates a path as they look at the three of you as they pass by. You could feel their gazes follow you as they take in your appearance. Probably for the fact you wear no helmet and the weapons that rest on your hip that have them whispering.

“Bic cuyir a jetiise..Witch…te adiik cuyir nayc Mando…” (It’s a jedi. The child is no Mandalorian) You ignore most of their whispers and insults are mainly thrown at you. Until you catch the gaze of Paz Vizsla his hands holding the large blaster and you feel the heated glare coming from the man. Turning your gaze forward at Din’s back as you enter the cave. You see the forge created just like the one on Nevarro and Glavis Ringworld. She stands with her back towards you both before she speaks up her voice echoing throughout the large room.

“You have removed your helmet. What’s worse, you did so of your own free will. You are no longer Mandalorian.”

Din steps forward placing Grogu down on the ground then looks at the Armorer, “The Creed teaches us of redemption.”

“Redemption is no longer possible since the destruction of our homeworld.” The Armorer retorts.

“But what if the mines of Mandalore still exist?” Din says as he seats himself a the table on the floor with her join. You and the child sit on the sides as Din looks at the female Mandalorian who shakes her head, “All was destroyed in the Purge.”

Din pulls out a piece of green glass inscribed in it Mando’a and places it on the table, “Is this inscription, not Mandalorian?” The Armorer grabs the crystal looking over the fragmented writing,

“Where did you come upon this?” She asks, “Jawas. They came upon it by trade from a traveler who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore.” Din explains. During your travels following the Pykes, you had encountered Jawas that had this crystal that spurred Din to look for the covert hidden somewhere in the Outer Rim.

“Then this relic only proves that Mandalore’s entire surface has been crystalized by fusion rays.” The Armorer says returning the crystal back to Din.

“But a traveler was able to retrieve this, so perhaps, it is not poisoned. If I visit the planet and I can bring you proof that I have bathed in the Living Waters beneath the mines of Mandalore, then by Creed, the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.” He explains his plan and the Armorer is silent before nodding and accepting his quest,

“This is the Way.”

Din stands and you follow as you pull the child into your arms. He looks at the Armorer giving her a sharp nod, “Then I will see you again.”

Leaving the cave to see some Mandalorians cleaning up others waiting to see what is to happen with their visitors seeing you three exit. Din heads towards the ship taking the child as you trail behind still feeling the gazes of the few Mandalorian. A hand shoots out grabbing your arm and stopping you in your tracks. Your skin crawls from the contact as your hand reaches for your saber. The hand is tight around your bicep and you could tell a bruise was going to form.

“Gar kelir ratiin cuyir eyn aruetii..” (You will always be an outsider) Paz Vizsla leans to growl the insult for only you to hear, his grip on your arm harsh. You are silent as you keep your gaze forward your hand grasps the saber on your belt but doesn’t pull it off your belt, “Partaylir tion'ad gar cuyir olar” (Remember who you are here) He releases your arm with a shove and you stay still your hand shaking just to turn around and beat the crap out of him for touching you. You look down releasing your grasp on the saber seeing your hold on the Darksaber not your own. Steeling your face and moving past the Mandalorians watching the interaction climbing into your X-Wing and starting it up.

R4 gives some concerned beeps as you sigh putting in the coordinates that Din sent you seeing Nevarro show up on your navigator, “All good R4…let’s just get off this planet.”

The N-1 and the X-wing enter the Nervarro airspace as a transmission comes through that you accept, “Welcome to Nevarro, independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your visit.” A woman’s voice comes through.

“Here to visit a friend.” You respond and you’re granted clearance and given a spot on the tarmac, climbing out as R4 exits its spot. Joined up with Din and Grogu you move towards the city it is even more lively and different from when you first visited since… A droid greets you both as you enter the city gates, “Greetings. Welcome to the port of Nevarro, gem of the Outer Rim. Our esteemed High Magistrate welcomes you and hopes that your stay will be a prosperous one,” You see trade going on, children running through the streets but not in fear but in play in a game of chase, “We invite you to visit our shops and markets, enjoy local delicacies, marvel at the black lava canyons, or soak in the geothermal springs.”

You look around at the streets of Nevarro City and the cleanliness and safety that is a part of it. Droids and different species of people roam the streets and none move away from you and the Mandalorian in fear greeting you as you pass by.

“A lot has changed around here.” You say seeing the people playing music as children dance and play in the large center, before you is a statue of IG-11 in his honor. Without the droid’s sacrifice, none of you would have made it off Nevarro alive.

“Do you remember your old friend?” Din says to Gorgu who looks at the droid in curiosity.

“Mando!” Turning seeing Greef looking great in crimson robes truly shows his status as Magistrate. Walking down steps followed by a protocol droid he greets the Mandalorian with a firm shake and he sees you with a large grin on his face. “I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it. Ah and Y/n it is good to see you too. You’ve gotten much older since the last time.”

You bow your head slightly in greeting, “It’s good to see you Karga.”

“Magistrate Karga.” Din greets him and the protocol droid steps forward, “That’s High Magistrate Karga to you.” Greef waves the droid offer gesturing towards the large building you assume to be the town hall,

“Come. Let’s catch up on old times.” Entering his office everything looked so modern and just better compared to old Nevarro.

“It’s so good to see you both. Welcome back.” Greef says as you lean against his desk Din standing behind you, the child in Greef’s chair using the force to spin himself around.

“Doesn’t even look like the same place.” Din comments and Greef smiles proud of the hard work put in, “I know, we’ve done a lot with it. The citizens have been so instrumental in making this all work, and look at this. We are an official trade spur of the Hydian Way.”

“Congratulations.” You say and Din nods, “We’ve got a construction boom going on in the city. The belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system. There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro.”

“I can see.” Din says, “I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs. You, the kid, and the little one, you can settle down, you can hang up your blaster. Live off the fat of the land.” Greef creates the picture-perfect lifestyle.

“Grogu.” Din says and Greef looks at him confused, “Come again?”

“His name is Grogu.” The small infant stops spinning perking up when his name is called and you smile at him making him giggle slightly, “Oh. If you say so. Come, I wanna show you something,��� Greef leads you both to the large balcony showing the city landscape pointing off in directions. He points over to a large area far off in the outskirts of the city, somewhere private away from all of this “Now, as I was saying, there’s a beautiful parcel available right down here by the flats.”

Din nods stepping away from the balcony and standing by the desk where Grogu still sits in the large chair, “I appreciate the offer, but I have some matters to look after.”

“Oh, I’m confused,” Greef frowns as the two of you re-enter the room, “I thought you had completed your mission, but you’re still running around here with them.”

“It’s complicated.” You explain leaning against the door frame to the balcony as Greef stands between you two,

“I completed my quest. He returned to me. I removed my helmet, and now I’m an apostate.” Din explains.

“Which is all the more reason for you to stay here with us,” Greef offers to step closer to the man, “Where you are from, you may be an apostate, but here, you’d be landed gentry.”

“Magistrate.” The protocol droid halts your conversation and you all turn to see it waiting by the doorway,

“High Magistrate.” “Yes, High Magistrate. Apologies.”

Greef sighs letting the droid enter, “Your timing couldn’t be any worse.”

“But it’s just that, there’s someone here to see you.” The droid explains and the man waves him off wanting to get back to your conversation, “It can wait.”

“But it’s pirates!” The droid yells and you all look back now more concerned, “Pirates in the courtyard.”

Following behind the two older men and before exiting out to the streets Din helps pull the mask of your cloak to hide your face. Reaching the streets you can hear shouting from what you assume to be the pirates, “Get out of my way or I’ll split your circuits.”

“Oh, my stars.” “Stand aside, droid, don’t you know who we are?” The pirate shouts at the droid blocking the school.

“Come on, Vane. That’ll be enough of that.” Greef calls out as the lead pirate steps forward you and Din trailing behind letting the High Magistrate deal with this.

“Greef Karga, my old friend. I knew you wouldn’t insult us. Come, join us for a drink.” The Nikto holds his hands out a wide grin across his face seeing an old friend.

“Let’s continue this conversation back at my office,” Greef says before pointing to the building, “This, this is a school.”

“Well, that explains why she wouldn’t let me inside.” Vane says as the other pirates laugh before pointing to the school, “I forgot, it was your cut of my boss’s treasure that built this saloon. Pirate King Gorian Shard’s name is familiar to all in this sector.”

“Come, join me for a drink back at my office. We’ll toast to your captain.” Greef repeats he’d rather have rowdy pirates drunk in his office than where children are nearby.

“We drink here,” Vane says and the other pirates make sounds of agreement.

“That is a school now,” Greef says tired of the back and froth.

“I say it’s still a bar. Now, bring us a drink.” His hand rests on his blaster and Din speaks up leaning against the tree beside him.

“Is there a problem here, Magistrate?” He says his arms crossed his chest as he watches the pirates that take in the Mandalorian and also the hooded figure next to him.

“Is there a problem here?” Greef says before looking back at Vane, “What do you think?”

“Not if you serve me a drink.” Vane repeats himself and Greef steps forward. “Not in my school.”

Vane chuckles looking back at his crew, “You hear that, boys? His school. You paid us for murder and mayhem inside these doors. Sounds like you went soft.” He taunts the man as Greef tilts his head his hand pushing back his cloak slightly revealing the blaster on his side, “You think so? Try me.”

Vane pulls out his blaster but before he can use it it’s shot out of his hand and Vane groans in pain from the blaster heat, “Tell Captain Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates. Now get outta here.” Vane glares and the others pull out their blasters, but you and Din shoot them down quickly each backing the High Magistrate as Vane laughs nervously now completely alone and defenseless.

“Get out of here, Vane. Now.” Greef warns him and you watch the pirate quickly flee down the street as you move closer to the man, “Sure you wanna let him go?” You ask watching him disappear around the corner.

“He’ll let it be known that Nevarro is respectable now and not to be trifled with.” Greef says before looking at some service droids, “Have the service droids scrub up out there.”

“Yes, sir, right away.” The droid says as others quickly come in and start cleaning up the mess the four of you moving down the street. Greef sighs looking at Din, “I gotta level with you, Mando. I need a Marshal.”

“What about Marshal Dune?” You ask, since arriving you haven’t seen the woman at all in Nevarro.

“After she brought in Moff Gideon, she was recruited by Special Forces,” Greef says and Din quickly notices the sudden silence that came from you hearing that name. “And what came of Gideon?” Din asks watching you from the corner of your eye as you trail back.

“Ugh. He was sent off to a New Republic War Tribunal,” Greef says producing a scoff from Din, “So… What do you say? You ready to put on the stripes and collect a healthy stipend? You’d make a very fine lawman.” He offers and Din is reluctant of that kind of job.

“Why not request one from the New Republic?” He asks and Greef shakes his head,

“The last thing we intend is to bow down to yet another far-off bureaucracy. No. Under my watch, Nevarro will become the first truly independent trade anchor in this entire sector.” He explains he had worked hard to make this a respectable place not to have it fall under the rule of another damned empire or republic.

Din sighs shaking his head, “I can’t serve as your marshal. I have something pressing to attend to.”

“Apologies. I didn’t know you were here on business,” Greef chuckles before waving his hands around the town square to show off everything there is to offer, “What can we provide?”

“I need him back.” Din says as you look up at the statue of IG11 and Greef laughs, “IG11 was destroyed on the lava river. This is just a statue.”

“These are his parts, are they not?” Din asks and Greef nods, “I mean, what’s left of ’em. We were lucky to recover any of his parts after he self-destructed.”

“I need a droid I can trust to help me explore Mandalore, and he’s that droid.” Din points at the statue that is just remnants.

“Hey, what about R4?” You ask as the droid beside you beeps ready for duty and Din shakes his head. “Don’t trust that droid.” He says and you scoff crossing your arms as R4 gives sad beeps.

“Hey he didn’t mean it…he’s just a picky.” You whisper to the droid trying to cheer him up as it gives a depressing beep accepting your failed attempt to lift its spirits.

“Mando, we’ve got plenty of droids around here, we’ll find you one. I guarantee it.” Greef says and Din shakes his head and points at IG. “Let me give it a shot.”

Returning to Greef’s office in a workshop the remnants of the droid lie across a table as Din tries reviving the droid plugging it into some power while fixing some circuits and boards, “There. He’s hooked up to power. Let’s see if we can wake him up.” Din steps back looking at the droid before turning on the power button on the droid. A low hum fills the room as it powers up a beeping sound showing its turning on. “There you go.”

“Subparagraph sixteen-teen-teen of the Bondsman Guild protocol waiver…” IG’s voice is all distorted as it glitches and stutters, “Immediately produce said…The bounties are mine. Assets to be terminated.” The legless droid lunges at you and the child in your arms and you stumble back as it crawls toward you.

“Terminate assets. Terminate assets.” It repeats as Din shoots at it but it keeps charging at you and the child, “Greef!” You yell before tossing the child over to the man that catches him as IG grabs your leg and you’re pulled to the ground. 

“Terminate asset.” It repeats as its hands try wrapping around your throat but you fight against the strong droid.

“Mando, shoot it! Shoot it!” Greef yells as you keep fighting the droid above you. “Don’t you kriffing shoot me!” You yell.

“Terminate.” Using your full body weight you fling the heavy droid off you it landing before a bust of Greef. Waving your hand as it falls off the pedestal and crushes the droid’s head. Din pulls you to your feet as you look at the destroyed droid,

“Now that’s using your head.” Din says and Greef still holding the child looks at the droid, “I think he defaulted to his old programming.”

“You think?” You say as Din’s plan of finding a droid adds a whole new step.

“That’s too big a job for you to do by yourself. Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droid smiths of the Outer Rim,” Greef explains returning the child to Din with the help of a service droid to carry the parts of IG as the man leads you through the streets of Nevarro, “They’ll have IG back to his old self in no time.”

“Are you sure they’re up for it?” Din asks as you turn down a street, “I don’t think I can handle him with all his limbs if things go scud.”

“Why don’t you ask ’em for yourself?” Greef offers while knocking on a small window about your hip height, “Who?”

“The Anzellans.” Greefs points to the now small window and you see a small creature you assume the Anzellans as he looks at you four,

“What do you want?”

The three of you sat in a very small room, barely fighting all three of you, Greef opting to stay outside though hunched over listening. Grogu watches the creatures even smaller than him work on the droid as they speak louder in their language before cursing as the main one turns to Din.

“No. Can’t fix. No. No, no. The broken.” It says and you two look confused at it. “Uh… Okay.” Din says as it speaks Anzellan as he waves his hands pointing at the droid before back at the two of you see you didn’t understand.

“The broken. It broke.” He repeats and Din shakes his head, “I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?”

“Mando, he said he can’t fix it,” Greef calls from the doorway translating from his distance spot and Din shakes his head pointing at IG, “That’s no good, I need this one. This one is my friend.”

“It not friend anymore. Memory circuit broken.” He says spitting on the droid in shame as Din sighs, “He says the memory circuit is shot.” Greef calls out and the two of you look at the man understanding what the Anzellan was saying but he continues to translate.

“No more.” The small droidsmith says, “Well, put in a new one.” Din says and he shakes his head,

“No, no, no, no. Not work. Don’t make new one. Very hard to find.” One of them says and the other shakes his head, “No.”

“He said they don’t make ’em anymore. They’re very hard to find.” Greef calls out and you both look at the man,

“We got it,” Din calls out.

“Buy new droid. This one poodoo.” The Anzellan says, “He says you should get a new one.” The two of you ignore Greef’s not needed translation.

“Can you fix it without the memory circuit?” Din asks and the droidsmith thinks before nodding, “Yes, but IG no think.”

“What if I find you the part?” Din offers and the creature nods, “Okay, now. Then no problem. We fix.”

“If you can get a new part, he says he can fix it.” Greef says and you turn to the man, “We understand him pretty well Greef,”

“No! No! No! No! No! No, down, down!” You whip your head seeing Grogu holding one of the Anzellan hugging it as the other tries freeing him,

“No, Grogu. He’s not a pet.” Din says reaching over and trying to free the droidsmith,

“No squeezie. Not squeeze. Not squeeze. Bad baby!” The trapped Anzellan yells before getting free and looking at the child, “Oh, he’s a bad baby.”

“Sorry about that. He’s young.” Din apologizes as droidsmith looks at the child, “Yeah, bad baby. Oh!” He screams but again as Grogu tries reaching over to grab him. You and Din struggle in the compact space to get Gorgu away from him.

“No, Grogu.” “Come kid!”

Returning to the port reaching your ships as R4 gets settled into the droid port as you head over to Din who stands beside Greef,

“We hope to see you soon.” Greef says as he shakes hands with Din and you nod goodbye, “Keep IG-11 safe until I get back with that part.” Din says.

“If the Anzellans can’t find it, I don’t know who can. Safe travels.” Greef says stepping back as you both board your ships starting them up and quickly exiting the atmosphere.

“Being a Mandalorian’s not just learning about how to fight, you also have to know how to navigate the galaxy, because you never know where you might be headed next,” You hear Din speaking to Grogu teaching him about the ship as you follow beside him listen at the softness of his voice, “This here is your hyperspace map. You determine your range by looking at your fuel gauge. And this…”

A beep fills both your and Din’s ships and you see your enemy proximity warning indicator going off, “…is your enemy proximity warning indicator.” He says as you see the starfighters appear. “Hang on, kid, we got pirates.”

“Avast, Mandalorian. You can’t just sneak away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood,” You hear Vane’s voice through your comms, “We’re Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men, now you’ll answer to him.”

“Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming,” Din says before quickly banking left while you go right the starships splitting up following after you both.

“After them!” Your fast maneuvers through the asteroid field as you have four starships after you firing at you. Quickly accelerating through two asteroids that are colliding barely making it through hearing one of the ships explode behind you.

“All good R4?” You yell spinning the ship around and firing at one of the ships hitting an engine before dodging the other two ships as they are on your tail. You dodge and weave space rock and blaster fire and you see Din heading towards you as you flip your ship flying right above him upside down you hear R4 squeal as Din takes down the two following you as you fire at his three only taking down two as the last one avoids the fire. Spinning the ship around as you chase after the last one Din following right behind you. The ship you assume with Vane in it speeds around a large asteroid the two of you quickly following behind revealing a large warship. You let Vane head towards the safety of the ship as you see their weapons appear aiming at you both.

“Dank farrik.” Din sighs and you curse seeing the target lock, “They have a kriffing target lock on us.”

“Stop where you are. You’re outgunned.” You hear what you assume is Gorian Shard through your comms, “I have no quarrel with you, Gorian Shard.” Din answers and you hear a laugh through the transmission,

“What a kind sentiment from a man who just destroyed eight of my fighters. Surrender your ships and I will spare your lives.” Shard says and you sigh looking at your fifth turbo engine locked and loaded.

“You trust me Din?” You ask as you lock in your coordinates with Din letting R4 take control of the ship. “Yeah, kid?” He asks confused as you crack your knuckles.

“Hey Grogu, never trust a pirate.” You say before thrusting your hand out and Din watches the warship spin as you used a large amount of the Force, “Hit it R4!” You yell, as they fire at the two of you but Din quickly flips the red button jolting forward beside you before you both jump to lightspeed leaving behind a furious pirate king.

Reaching the Mandalore system and exiting hyperspace as you follow Din toward a planet seeing on your navigation that it’s Kalevala.

“This is Kalevala,” Din says through your comms as you begin your descent into the atmosphere, “It’s another planet in the Mandalorian system.” You look over the lush fields and rocky mountains and right along the seaside, you see a castle.

“Is that?” You ask, “Yeah, that is a Mandalorian castle.” Din says as you depart to land on the platform the rain creates a rhythmic beat on the canopy as it opens climbing it and throwing your hood over your head to avoid getting completely wet as the four of you venture into the castle. Reaching the entrance of the imposing castle you remove your hood and are greeted by a blue footman droid who speaks to you, “Din Djarin, Mand’alor Y/n Kenobi-Kryze.” The droid bows its head slightly at your presence and you shoot Din a look at the title you were given. You hated the title given because of the weapon on your hip, was this how people were to address you? Following the droid down a long hall as the rain poured violently outside the castle, banners of a house crest..your house crest, and the Night Owl as well. At the end of the long hall was a throne and sat was Bo-Katan the droid stands by her side as she looks over at your four.

“Bo-Katan. It is Din Djarin and your grand-niece Y/n Kenobi-Kryze.” The droid announces your presence as she looks over at you two. She looked tired as her head rests in her hand.

“I am here to join you.” Din says and Bo-Katan shakes her head sadness in her eyes, “There’s nothing left to join.”

“What of your plans to retake Mandalore?” You ask and she looks down at her feet before reaching your gaze a forlorn expression on her face. “When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away.” She says.

“Where is the stolen fleet?” Din asks and Bo-Katan waves her hand as if they were leaving, “Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries.” She says before sitting up having lounged on the wide throne.

“Do you still have the saber?” She asks already knowing the answer to that question and you nod, “I do.”

“Then you lead them. Wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.” She points at the weapon at your belt and you frown. You didn’t want this either you didn’t want to rule.

“So you’re giving up your designs to retake Mandalore?” You ask, it had been her goal to rebuild the home she had lost. She had already lost so much in her life, her home planet, her sister, her nephew, and she had almost lost you. If keeping Mandalore inhabited was the only way to keep the last remnants of her family safe then so be it.

“Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge. Where were you then? The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people. Go home. There’s nothing left.” Bo-Katan says her venom-laced words aimed at Din.

“I am going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions.” Din states and the princess laughs shaking her head thinking him to be crazy.

“You are a fool. There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore. They supplied beskar ore to our ancestors and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned.” She explains.

“You said that the curse was a lie. Make up your mind.” Din retorts and Bo-Katan leans forward staring at the Mandalorian, “If you want to go to the mines, be my guest. They’re beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari.” She leans back on her throne. She had really given up on her promise of restoring Mandalore,

“Bo-Katan…” You whisper but Din speaks up. “Thank you. And I will find out if the planet is really poisoned.” He says before he takes your hand and starts leading you out of the great hall you glance back at your grand-aunt as she rests on the throne watching. Your plan of traveling to Mandalore would only be a journey for you three to discover. To determine whether that planet really was cursed or was legend keeping the chance of rebirth at bay.

“Goodbye, Din Djarin.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three #clan of three series #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #mando x reader #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction

[elisemscott1122]

Different Mandalorian Houses (Canon and Legends):

modern day, only Canon clans:

* House Viszla

- Tarre Viszla - creator of the Dark Saber

- Pre Viszla (Death Watch Leader)

- Paz Viszla (Children of the Watch)

- Ragnar (Children of the Watch)

* House Kryze:

- Bo-Katan Kryze (Nite Owl)

- Satine Kryze (during clone wars, Duchess of Mandalore. New age)

- Korkie Kryze

- (Bo-Katan’s father, mentioned in The Mandalorian show season 3)

* House Kast

- Rook Kast

- Veraslayan Kast

* Clan Wren: (first loyal to the Empire)

- Sabine Wren (Ghost Crew, Rebels)

- Ursa Wren

- Tristan Wren

- Alrich Wren

* Clan Saxon: (loyal to the Empire)

- Gar Saxon (killed by Ursa Wren)

- Tiber Saxon

* Clan Eldar

* Clan Rook (vassal of House Kast)

- Rook Kast

- Tayari Rook

* Clan Awaud: (eventually rebel alliance ties)

- Nam Beroya (leader)

- Vera Beroya (leader)

- Aga Awaud

* Clan Mudhorn

- Din Djarin

- Din Grogu

Legends clans/dissolved clans:

* Clan Keldau

* Clan Bralor

- Neth Bralor (leader)

- Jogo

- Rav Bralor (hired by Jango Fett to train the clone armies)

* Clan Cadera

- Jicoln Cadera (leader)

- Torian Cadera (leader)

* Clan Beviin

- Dinua Jeban (adopted)

* Clan Beroya (tied to clan Awaud later on)

* Clan Carid

- Baltan Carid

* Clan Deshra

* Clan Detta

- Suvar Detta

- Cham Detta

* Clan Kaja

- Kaja Honn (leader&founder)

* Clan Chorn

* Esok’s Clan

- Esok

* Clan Farr

- Ceta Farr

- Yenko Farr

* Clan Fett (mainly legends)

- Jango Fett

- Boba Fett

- Cassus Fett

- Arla Fett

- Sintas Vel

- Ailyn Fett

- Makin Marec

- Mirta Gev

- Vorten Fett

- Khomo Fett

- Melvin Fett

*Clone Troopers were not considered a part of clan Fett although they shared Jango Fett’s DNA*

* Clan Gedyc

- Lorka Gedyc (once head of Death Watch)

* Clan Ha’arangir (named after Mandalorian war God Kad Ha’ariangir)

- Kur Ha’arangir (leader)

* Clan Itera

* Clan Jeban

- Dinua Jeban

- Briika Jeban

* Clan Jendri

* Clan Jennis

* Clan Kelborn

- Merrk Kelborn

* Clan Keldau

* Clan Lok

- Artus Lok

- Mirli Lok

* Clan Lone

- Zadik Lone

- Akaavi Spar (left her clan to be with Lone)

* Clan Ordo

- Canderous Ordo

- Chernan Ordo

- Jekiah Ordo

* Clan Priest

- Dred Priest

* Clan Rodarch

* Clan Shale

- Arla Shale

* Clan Sharrat

- Kassor Quade

* Clan Skirata

- Kal Skirata

- Munin Skirata

- Ruusaan Skirata

- Jaing Skirata

- Ilippi Skirata

- Tor Skirata

- Ijaat Skirata

- Kad Skirata

(Adopted)

- Jedi Bardan Jusik

- Jedi Etain Tur-Mukan

- Omega Squad- Niner Skirata, Atin Skirata, Darman Skirata, Fi Skirat

- the Nulls

* Clan Sornell

- Koblus “Ko” Sornell

- Haarm

- Gheedor

- Two unnamed Sornell children, and expecting one

* Clan Spar

- Akavvi Spar

* Clan Tenau

* Clan Varad

- Mavrix Varad

- Tyrus Brokenblade

* Clan Vevut

- Novoc Vevut

- Ghes Orade

- Mirta Gev

* Clan Nerak

- Ballag (leader)

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #star wars tv #starwars #tv shows #disney #disney plus #tv series #star wars

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 12: The Visit

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You have more questions than before. The same goes for Din.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, Calvinball with canon and Mandalorian lore (making it up), light angst.

A/N: A short chapter here, will post the next one fairly soon. Been an interesting week to be a Din Djarin/Pedro Pascal fan hasn't it? Hope you're hydrating! Thanks for reading, big love.

--

The leader of the revived Mandalorian people is not so proud as to deny you to work on her speeder. She has a refreshing air of keen intelligence and frank regard. You like her.

Bo-Katan Kryze stands beside you as you fiddle with a mess of pistons and shaft lines. She asks an occasional question, but mostly looks out across the work site. Her people move about with quiet efficiency. They’re on a ranging operation – a huge group surveying a ruined city. Din had said he needed to go out there to see her – pay respects or something. So, after a terrifying meeting with a leader named simply, the Armourer, your group of three had flown the Crest out to join them.

The shade of the hangar is surprisingly cooling in the rocky, hazy clime. You spy Din by himself across the expanse, lifting crate after crate from a transport tray and stacking them neatly against a craft. You make a mental note to bother him later about adequate rehydration.

You’ve decided the person standing next to you is your best option to ask about what’s been gnawing away at you in the time it took to reach Mandalore. She and Din seem to hold each other in a profoundly high esteem, and you can see she deeply cares for him, and Grogu.

And, since Din’s big speech about the ‘sacrifices’ you made and the ‘honour’ and ‘loyalty’ you exhibited in retrieving that beskar cache, she’s ensured you’ve been welcomed and your offers to assist their rebuilding efforts accepted.

Although it was mostly when she’d reached up, removed her helmet and looked you dead in the eyes that did it. When you realised there was so much here you didn’t know. So much about Din Djarin the Bounty Hunter. So much about Mandalorians. What little you’d gleaned from discs and stories. It was nothing at all.

Still, it was just the one question you couldn’t shake at the minute. Just ask it. She’ll give you an honest answer, you think, then you’ll know.

You twist a coil of wire around and around the kit, worrying at it over much as you force the words out.

‘What does sha--’ you pause on the unfamiliar word, push it around your mouth. ‘What does shareekah mean?’

Bo-Katan turns to you sharply, but keeps an even gaze that takes in your pinched features and nervous fiddling with the bit’s end.

‘Cyar’ika?’ she asks, putting more softness on the final syllable than you had managed.

‘Sure, yes. That,’ you strip more rubber from the coil and continue twisting.

You glance sidelong at her, see Bo’s eyes soften. Then you look out into the glare. She follows your gaze to see the lone figure straighten and stretch out. 

‘It’s a form of endearment,’ she murmurs. ‘Generally, it means “darling”, “or “sweetheart”.’

The part ready, you slip it into place, plugging the ignition gauge into the new switch you’ve created, trying to remember how to breathe. You can handle this.

But, Bo continues. ‘It’s meaning is contextual though. In certain contexts, it can also be held to mean, “most beloved”.’

Oh. Force the new question past dry lips. ‘What kind of contexts?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she shrugs, arches a brow. ‘Bringing a stranger with no clan to a secretive people’s home world and convincing everybody present it was a really good idea?’

You jam the speeder’s hatch closed a touch too hard. Bo looks back at you. You give yourself a shake and huff, ‘Okay, she’s ready.’

A couple of flicks to the dash and the machine hums to life.

‘You’re going to see a lot more room at the top end now. And the glide will be tighter. I suggest heading out somewhere flat and opening her up.’

Bo-Katan gives you a small smile, a hand on your shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ she says. She replaces her helmet and swings a leg over the saddle, wasting no time zipping out from the sheltered spot. The engine roars overhead a moment later and you hear an honest-to-gods, ‘Wooooo!’ fade out.

That makes you smile. It’s a relief.

Another speeder glides in and you prepare to begin again. The towering rider dismounts and takes up a stoic vigil behind you, leaving you to your thoughts. You glance up and see Din out in the sun, looking back at you.

After witnessing a compelling ritual of armoured Mandalorians filing through a mess tent, some taking to gather around dotted fires to remove their helmets and eat, and others stepping away, fanning out to private spots – including Din, hand first squeezing your shoulder gently – you excuse yourself, begging fatigue, and head the short distance back to the Crest. 

The dusk air finally brings a cooling breeze, and you settle on letting that carry your simmering nerves back down to the earth. Seating yourself in the opening of the ship, feet thumping out a nervous pattern on the ramp, you breathe the sharp air and try to calm. You’d been growing aware of the true depth of Din’s feelings for you – even before you’d finally reckoned with each other. The conversation with Bo-Katan confirmed it. And now you’re left to wonder why it has sparked such a sharp panic within you.

There was no question you’d fallen hard for Din Djarin. Who wouldn’t? You thought you’d experienced great, epic loves before – but they all paled compared to this.

A problem was that when those old romances had crashed and burned, you’d never been sure you could piece yourself back together. And now this. What would happen to you if you lost this? You angle to the side and lean hard against the wall of the Crest, willing its cool hard surface to draw you down into yourself. It seems to hum back.

‘Be honest,’ you say aloud. ‘Am I completely fucked?’

Silence. Your breath ghosts against the wall of the ship.

Another problem was the one that had settled hard over you since stepping foot on Mandalore. This was a devout people, with a troubled and difficult history. The customs and culture were rigid, out of a survivalist’s necessity. And, as far as you could tell, their beliefs revolved around mystic superstition and ancient scriptural doctrines. Even the more pragmatic among them, like Bo-Katan herself, had an air of fateful intent around everything they said and did.

It had all given you the distinct feeling that what you and Din had found together did not fit into their way.

Even if it did, what did it mean? 

What did the love of a Mandalorian mean, ultimately? Where were you heading? What was Din expecting? You know he takes it all incredibly seriously – it’s his identity. How do you fit into all this?

You don’t know how to ask these questions. So, with an avoidant will, you push them to the side. Ferry them away like so much else. For now, you think dimly.

Out of the darkened evening, you spot a pair of lights heading for you. Din and Grogu emerge into the glow of the Crest a moment later. Grogu hurries forward to hop into your lap and you nuzzle the top of his head, enjoying his content purr and feeling calmness wash over you finally. 

Din takes you in, huddled in the door of the ship with his son. ‘Shall we get some rest,’ he asks, approaching you with a hand outstretched. You take it and stand, letting him crowd you around and into the hold.

--

Later, when you’re asleep against his chest, cool breath tickling his neck, Din once again thinks back to his conversation with the Armourer. 

After depositing the beskar and engaging in a stilted exchange of formalities, you and Grogu had been dismissed. You’d shot him a puzzled look as you followed the kid out. A what-the-fuck-is-her-deal kind of look.

Once alone with the Armourer, the two of them had sat down and discussed the best use of the beskar.

‘We have many needs, now that Mandalore is revived,’ she’s saying. Din just nods and agrees with whatever she suggests, flattered to accept an upgraded flamethrower. He’s just waiting for the inevitable. The Armourer’s perception and intuition were always an intimidating thing.

And sure enough, once the ingots of precious metal have been allotted, she goes still and stares hard at him.

He waits. Feeling not entirely ready.

She looks to the door you’d exited through, then returns her gaze to him.

‘You have coupled,’ the Armourer says.

‘Yes.’

‘She is not Mandalorian.’

‘No…’

A long, pregnant wait. She leans in.

‘Have you ever removed your helmet?’

‘No.’

‘Has it ever been removed by others?’

‘Never.’

‘This is the Way.’

‘This is the Way.’

She stands and strides to her forge.

That wasn’t so bad, he thinks. But then he’s thrown.

‘Do you know why we follow the Way, Din Djarin?’ she asks. He’s not sure what answer she is seeking. ‘The main reason?’

Once again, he waits.

‘To survive,’ she says. ‘We have been a diaspora, carved apart and hunted. We’ve followed the Way so we may continue. Do you think that holds true now that we are a united people of Mandalore?’

She turns back to him, seems to be genuinely waiting for an answer. He says, in all honesty, ‘I don’t know.’ 

It hadn’t even occurred to him to question it.

She tilts an appraising helm at him, moves back to sit opposite him again. He’s never witnessed her so restless.

‘Neither do I,’ she says, low and intense. He’s floored. ‘But I contemplate this question, every day, seeking the answers for the good of our people. As I do so, you should contemplate the questions that plague you now. Where do you fit? And where might she?’

The Armourer lets that shockwave wash through him. Then, changes the subject.

‘Your apprentice, Din Grogu, is due for his first Sojourn of the Will with his fellow students. There is one coming in a single moon’s turn. It is an important undertaking for every apprentice.’

Din welcomes the change in the course of this discussion and thinks. He knew he would have to face Grogu taking part in one of these things eventually. Had been dreading it actually. But it had to happen sooner or later.

‘I suppose now is a good time,’ Din ponders. He doesn’t want to be apart from his kid. But the Armourer’s right, it is an important rite of passage.

And, it means alone time with you. Time to figure all this out.

Time to tell you how he truly feels, maybe.

--

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(I am ambivalent about the movie announcement - swinging hard in positive-negative directions. But I don't think I like the new artwork that came with it at all. Something about the light reflected on Din's helmet is giving me BSG Cylon vibes? And is that an exploding ship he's jet-packing away from? Because if so, how is the poor child breathing...? Anyway, those are my thoughts byyyye.)

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

[msflowerpot]

For those of you who would looooove content that is just straight badass Mando (not that there is something wrong with smut but come on??)

(Re)convene Time travel, whole gang of Ezra, Din, Boba, Fennec, Omega, Ashoka, we go fuck palp up!

According To Creed Every chapter is like a new episode of The Mandalorian, kinda awesome ;3

All hail the Mand'alor Wholesome badassory, where everything is great <3 Now this one is a little tricky with it’s chronological order. I don’t really agree with the authors choice. I might be wrong, but here is how i would read it;

The found The name (first chapter) The council The historian The legend The temple The name (fourth chapter) The name (second chapter) The name (third chapter) The name (sixth chapter) The leader The name (fifth chapter) The son The name (seventh chapter) The name (eighth chapter)

All help us survive Din forces Boba to be part of the mandoade 😆 Aliit ori'shya tal'din A uncompleted story about a dad failing to not adopt every child he meets.

An Unworthy Hand Seconds after Grogu was taken away by Luke, what was going on in Din's mind?

All the story's A ridiculous and comedic story of "what happens after Din leaves with Grogu after Tattoine". Sadly, the author discontinued the story since the didn’t know how to keep it going...

Back in Beskar Another hilarious story of what happens after Grogu and Luke takes off in season 2. XD

Mand'alor'ika DIN IS TINY!!! I REPEAT, DIN IS TINY!!!! (adult mind in tiny body back in time)

Blow in Like a Hurricane (Everyone Will Know my Name) Nobody seems to realise that the unsuspecting Din is actually Mand'alor. Including Luke and Leia XD Buir Everyone’s POV on the Dadalorian and Grogurt.

Clones and Kings Rex gets a task from Ashoka, "Take care of this dude. He is a magnet for disasters" Curse and Cure Din takes (tries) his role as the Mand'alor with some help from Luke, Leia and other members of the universe. Demons Run When a Good Man Goes to War Evil people has done something bad to someone (it's Grogu, always is), and Din is royaly pissed off. Din Djarin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Time Travel Incident Time travel, Din meets Anakin and Obi. Anakin is convinced that Din is some oooold Mandalorian.

Filling the Empty Nest Din figures out what to do with himself after season 2, misses Grogu, and somehow ends up rebuilding Mandalore. From Foundling to Father Din is eight. Gets rescued. His dad learns how to be a dad to him. (I seriously wish the author will continue the story T.T) Short works Some sad some interesting. Honor thy Clan What would happen if most of the survivors after the purge was children? General Mudhorn (and the time traveling bush) Just like the title says, plus som time travel Grogu's Adventures in Acquiring a Buir Grogus POV from the beginning to the moment Luke takes him away. Homebound Ain’t some teenage angst Ben Solo going to stop the might Grogu! if love is the answer, you're home Din is just being a dad, missing his son. And then there is Luke who is really bad at tracking.. In harmony The ehh.... the armor is alive... The Mand’alor and the Jedi These stories are by faaaar the best ones out there. I can’t give the author enough love. The writing, the pacing, all the characters that stays.... I can’t recommend it enough! If you love The Mandalorian, then you will DEFINITELY love these works!!!!!! Lost in time The clones Rex, Cody and Fives travel forward in time. Din's dad instincts kicks in. Mandalorian Menace Time travel, Din adops Anakin. F*** you Jedi more alike than apart Din and Sabine doing a heist and become mandosiblings (boba and Din are bros)😎 My Neighbor, My Neighbor, and Me Modern AU Din and others No Holy Cities Around the time when Din is introduced to the mandalorians. Nowhere King Time travel. Din has been Mand'alor for a long time, and then... the most horrible happens... he comes from nowhere and plans to fix the galaxy. Only the Parent You Will Be Hera Syndulla and Din Djarin's children call to each other and then stuff happens. Oya Manda'lor! (15 years and up (cus this ain’t america), warning of smut) This one is mostly 98% badass buuut... ehh... there is mentioning of smut.. and the other works of the same person... is hella ssmutty 😳 Time travel, Din meets Jaster. Phoenix Rising: Stronger Together Duology (15 years and up (cus this ain’t america), warning of smut) This one... again, mostly badass, around 89% badass. There is smut😑 Din is in pieces after Grogu left with Luke. Ashoka comforts him and Bo-Katan is a bitch. Ring out the song of the Midnight Blade Din and the darksaber takes on the empire. Highly recommend that you listen to the song at the same time you read this one. https://youtu.be/toJD2eJ4zvo Suddenly, I'm Respectable AU in which Bail and Breha Organa have a backup plan in place for Leia's rescue. The Consequences of Wearing a Touchy Mystical Laser Sword Din (and some others (not gonna tell😉)) shrink to their child sizes and try to fix the galaxy. Some humor, hehe. The Deserter Okey... everyone is allowed to pine for Din, but Din is as sexual as a brickwall!!!! The Pros and Cons of Time Travel and Force Visions Time travel. Mando being (as usual) a himbo, while senators and Jedi try to understand the situation... The Way of Conquest Time travel. Me, the force, Yoda and the author are giggling like maniacs 8D Truth and Consequences Okey soooo this one doesn’t really have Din in it... much... Tor Vizla and Jaster Mereel gets bonked on their heads by their grandchildren. The Mandalorian and the Rebel Spy Cassian gets adopted by Din's buir and they, sort of, grews up together. They're Gonna Give You Hell This one is by far the funniest shit ever🤣 do NOT read where you need to be quiet!! (i accidentally laughed in a quiet auditorium...) Time is a social construct Time travel, Din adopts Satine and Obi. Trust Luke travel to Mandalor and training begins. Vortex Amnesia for Din, he only remember that Grogu left. Nope. 2 years have gone by! You Can Worship the Ashes Time travel. Din saves Fives. you were only waiting for this moment to arise Rey gets (sort of) adopted by Din.

#the mandolarian #din djarin #mand’alor din #archive of our own #ao3fic #mandalorian #aot fanfiction #ao3 masterlist #mand’alor din djarin #grogu #din and grogu #mando and grogu #bo katan kryze #paz vizsla #boba fett #luke skywalker #leia skywalker