#din djarin x empath!reader

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families in need of medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and albeit the bounty hunters as well. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has somehow led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths

Main Song: Everywhere I Go by Sleeping At Last

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

CONTENTS:

SEASON 1

Chapter 1: The Mercury Keeps Rising

Chapter 2: Our Magnetism To Recklessness

Chapter 3: I Could Be Your Sacrifice

Chapter 4: What It Means To Be Saved

Chapter 5: Closing In

Chapter 6: Coming Soon...

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djaren #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x jedi!readerseries #The Silver Lining Series #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #din djarin fanfiction #The Silver Lining #The Silver Lining The Mandalorian Series #din djarin #baby yoda #din and grogu #pedrostories

[pedropascallme]

Treehouse

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: “Then, as if one change hadn’t been enough, there you were.”

Warnings: Ever so slight implications of what could possibly verge on smut but only if you squint. Otherwise none!

AN: Part four of Stupid For You. Is this maybe slightly ooc? Perhaps. Fuck it we ball.

Soundtrack: Treehouse by Alex G

Since swearing the Creed, it was as though there was a giant “do not disturb” sign pasted on Din’s forehead that everybody but him could see.

Once he was tall enough, old enough, strong enough; once he had put on his helmet, never to remove it in front of a living being again, once he had vowed to walk The Way, nobody seemed interested in approaching him. Which was fine. There was an obligatory need to seem intimidating and untouchable in his line of work. Encountering anybody else consistently resulted in inconvenience and, more often than not, violence.

Plus, he hated small talk. 

He was fine keeping to himself. He was fine with the silence that he and he alone could create. He enjoyed his time alone, relishing in the fact that he could have the privacy that his heavy beskar allowed him. He needed the space to think, not of anything intimate, but of his duties, of which there always seemed to be too many.  

Din was far from lonely. But whatever higher being was out there—Hod Ha’ran, or maybe Kad Ha’rangir, depending on how you looked at it—seemed to crave chaos in the form of changing the course of Din’s life at the expense of his solitude.

He really hadn’t meant to get attached to the child. It wasn’t like he expected to be with him for long; the plan was to pick him up and take him where he needed to go. How much time could it possibly take? 

Much, much longer than Din had anticipated. 

But he couldn’t deny that he had a certain affinity for the kid. He was curious by nature, allowed to explore the world in a way that Din had never gotten to as a child. Maybe it was because he could empathize with the green tot, could understand the feeling of loss and abandonment that came with being a foundling thrust into a new way of life. Whatever the cause, Din had rather happily accepted the fact that the two were stuck together.

Then, as if one change hadn’t been enough, there you were. 

When you waltzed out of Peli’s shop on Tatooine, rag over your shoulder and dirt on your hands, you fawned over Grogu the same way Peli had. But you, unlike Peli, were so clearly eager to get off the dismal desert planet. Your eyes had almost the same depth of curiosity Din saw in the kid’s deep black ones, and there was something in the way you spoke that set his mind at ease more than Peli ever did when she “babysat” (her words). 

He was an absolute goner the moment Peli suggested that he take you along. “For the kid’s sake!” She cheered, and once you were out of earshot, she leaned into Din “and for your own, Mando.”

And then suddenly he had a roommate—a friend, even. One that spoke basic and didn’t destroy his ship. Someone who could keep things in order and ensure safety for the child when Din went out for those long stretches of time. That was the most daunting part of your presence, the unexpected sentiment of safety. Din recognized the irony; the fact that the big bad bounty hunter felt protected by your companionship, your quiet but constant reassurance. But nobody needed to know. It was his secret. And maybe when Greef casually mentioned Din’s more pleasant attitude as of late, how it seemed to coincide with your arrival, he’d brush it off. 

His secret. 

Din was also, quite frankly, terrified of you. Not for any particular trait you held—he thought you were beautiful, fascinating, and maybe one of the smartest people he had met, but that was just it: You were perfect. And Din was…Din was Din. He assumed you were disgusted by his occupation, bothered by his long absences, and disinterested in him on a personal level. He tried to ignore the part of him that said he only felt that way because he was afraid to get close. He could take physical harm, but emotional damage wasn’t something he craved any more of. He tried to dismiss the way you laughed, the way you spoke to him like he was just another person, the way you stubbornly insisted on doing everything on your own all the time. Maybe selfishly, he had always recognized himself as a leader, but it became increasingly obvious—to him, at least—that you were giving him a run for his money.

He had felt his mask slipping even before he had found you wearing his old armor. He attempted to help you out more often, tried to take care of you the way you took care of him and Grogu. His nicknames for you got more frequent, and while he knew you couldn’t understand the Mando’a, he worried he was crossing a line somehow. When he walked in on you imitating him, he couldn’t help but feel himself swell with pride at how you tried to emulate him, how you saw him. He couldn’t help the way he felt so eager to touch you, to have you physically experience his presence. When you began to use the affectionate Mando’a words he had gifted you, he was only mildly bashful, feeling as though you had suddenly swapped places. And what’s more: He didn’t mind. 

He had known from the start that he wouldn’t be immune to your charm, and the countless restless nights during which you were the one thing on his mind were proof. He thought of your lips, the curve of your breasts, the way you peered up at him from under your lashes—anything and everything about you consumed him, and he would’ve felt somewhat perverted about it if you hadn’t started to return his subtle flirting. He knew you knew, or maybe you didn’t, and you were doing exactly what he was doing and desperately toeing the line, engaging yourself in the prospect of something more. 

He hoped, at least, that it was one of the two. 

Either way, and as scared as you made him feel, he never wanted you to leave his side. Maybe it was inconsiderate to think that you’d stick around with him and the kid forever, with or without him having to ask. It was a silent prayer he held close to himself, though. Everybody else was an obstacle to him, in return usually seeing him as a walking weapon and nothing more. But he saw you as fresh air incarnate, as powerful as the suns of the planet he had picked you up on, and you made the ship of misfits he had accrued—himself included—feel whole. When you spoke to him you put more feeling into it than anybody else that addressed him ever had.

For once in his life, he looked forward to small talk. He was so absolutely stupid for you. He liked answering your questions, getting personal, bonding with you in a way he had never cared to with anybody else, that nobody else had ever cared to with him. The curiosity from others he had experienced was usually centered around discomfort, but with you it was a genuine attempt at getting to know him. And you didn’t seem to mind when he had put his hand on your leg, an act of unspoken loyalty between the two of you.

Or maybe he was reading into everything. Maybe he needed the sleep you kept hounding him to catch up on. 

Regardless, the exchange echoed in his mind when you left the cockpit. 

Do Not Enter is written on the door way Why can't everyone just go away? Except you You can stay

~~~

Tag list <3

@queerponcho @abbygraceasd @sanscas @amberpanda99

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader

[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

[caskethrill]

the green-eyed monster ✷

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

summary: following grogu’s departure, you and din are both left empty with holes to fill— perhaps one of you more than the other. when held captive in a confined cell, you’re both forced to address the growing tension.

warnings: angst, discussions of children and pregnancy, din is kind of an asshole but he has his reasons, brief mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, jealousy, captivity, angry sex, ample mentions of breeding, manhandling, thigh-riding, degradation, unprotected sex, one allusion to anal sex, dacryphilia, glove kink (?), din manspreading needs a warning in itself, some fluff.

word count: 8.6k (sorry…)

authors note: pretend the razor crest was still standing strong after the season two finale of the mandalorian if u want to read this in peace

“are you awake?”

there wasn’t quite enough light to make out the turning of din’s helmet, but the rustling of beskar against thin cotton sheets was unmistakable.

“i am.” he answered. you had opened your mouth to ask why, and he had as well. there was a long silence; you both shared the same answer. instead, din patted the small sliver of space beside him in hopes you’d join him. when you didn’t, unsure, he spoke again. “come here.”

the sound that followed was the padding of your feet, crawling into the confined space with your back pressed to his broad chest. he waited until you were settled to unhand the blanket down over your body, the comfortable silence washing over you yet again.

there was an unspoken understanding between you both. you could feel his pain, his thoughts, his heart. sometimes he wondered if you were the only one who could understand him. you couldn’t have known one another for any more than six months, but he had never shared that much of his life with someone else. he is the first to admit that when he first took you in as a short-term passenger, one planet to the next, he was peeved. his personal space was being invaded and that wasn’t something he dealt well with. however, you were gentle and respectful. you considered his creed first and yourself second— giving. he thought that word described you best. at first, he hated that he’d grown wonted to your company. you only overstayed your welcome to look after the child, as per his request, but with each passing day, he grew more fond of you. you two developed a routine; he found you worked well together. he hoped you thought the same when he suggested you stay. “he likes you.” he explained, jutting his head in the direction of a slumbering grogu. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you actually enjoy having me around.”  you teased. he was relieved you couldn’t see his smile.

so you stayed. you figured it was the least you could do after he had given you a place to sleep, made sure you were fed, and took you to where you needed to be. you didn’t have anything to offer him in return; he’d scooped you up and off of nevarro out of the good in his heart— well, what good he allowed you to see, anyway. you were a loyal customer of peli’s and your ship had been damaged beyond repair by a herd of jawas. you couldn’t afford a commercial flight and din empathized with you. you, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes and a bag almost three-quarters of your size slung over your shoulder. he let out a long sigh as if you were the inconvenience of the century and gestured you aboard. you planned on jumping off wherever he docked next to keep from disrupting whatever schedule he was running on; you figured as a mandalorian he had much more important things to do, and all you were searching for was better work. initially, he offered to compensate you for the babysitting job he proposed to you. he asked you care for the child while he completed a day’s (or a few) work on the planet on which you’d been stationed, but you saw it as the perfect opportunity to repay your debt before you parted ways. he agreed. now, you could admit you liked the meagerness of the razor crest, and the easy decision to stay was one you made free of a guilty conscience.

din had warned you of the mission he was on— to return the kid to his kind, and while you respected such a sacrifice, you didn’t imagine it was one that would last; their bond was inseparable. you had gathered that din was truly a father to grogu, and he, a child. training with the jedi was better for his survival, sure, but not necessarily for his wellbeing. but like any good father, din was more concerned with his child’s needs than wants.

you couldn’t help but fall in love with the small green creature despite din’s countless reminders that “he won’t be around for much longer” and to not “get too attached”. you wondered if it was really you that he was reminding. nonetheless, you became a part of their little clan. a clan that had been broken apart just as fast as it formed— tonight had been no easy feat. you both silently moped back to the razor crest, the missing piece of both of you weighing heavy on your chests. din had immediately attempted to retire into his bunk, but you were quick to pull him into a tight, long hug. he reciprocated. no words were exchanged, and you eventually allowed him to disappear for the night. you found yourself lost in thought as you laid, curled into a protective ball, on your cot, hot tears burning your cheeks as you stared aimlessly into the darkness. you considered that the last thing din wanted was to be disturbed, but you couldn’t sleep and you knew there was no way he could either. you found the courage to shuffle through the small vessel and let your fingers hover over the button that separated the two of you. you weren’t sure how long you stood there, still and hesitating. you thought the worst he would do is pretend to be asleep, in which you’d pretend to believe him. however, when the divider zipped open, he could see through his visor that your eyes were puffy from sorrow. you looked so small, and the calling to take care of you swam deep in his chest. he was happy to share his company. if anything, he needed it just as badly as you did.

you’d begun to think din had finally fallen asleep until you felt his hand hesitantly creep up your side. at first, you were startled. not only by the sudden touch but also by the warm flesh of his palm. all you knew was the leather of his gloves. “i’m sorry.” he quickly apologized, already retracting in fear he’d misread the situation and invaded your personal space. you figured he had been considering the move for a minute, seeing how he had given you the time to fall into and break you from your daze. he hadn’t shared his bed with another before, that much was obvious. din could be clueless at times, and while it made him insecure, you found it endearing. “no,” you insisted, matching his pace to reach down and hold his arm in place. your fingers trailed downward to intertwine with his own. “it’s okay.”

he wasn’t sure if you had meant for your words to carry such a heavy double-meaning, but he relaxed anyway. it’s okay, he thought.

“do you always sleep with that thing on?” you quietly continued. he was always awake much earlier than you, and if he wasn’t behind the wheel, he was waking you with a soft caress of your cheek and call of your name. he’d inform you that he had to go, therefore leaving you in charge of the child. you never thought you would miss being forced awake at the crack of dawn.

you had seen his face for the first time today, he remembered, and while the memory made him uncomfortable, he knew it was an innocent question— if he always woke up before you, did he ever risk taking it off? the answer was no, he spent so much time buried in the helmet that he felt comfortable enough to keep it on. if sleeping without it didn’t make a difference and kept him from violating his beliefs, then he didn’t see the point in removing it. but now, he wasn’t sure where he stood as a mandalorian. he felt so naked with everyone looking at his exposed visage, except for grogu and yourself. he trusted you, he felt comfortable revealing the underside of his mask, like a wild animal exposing its soft belly, but he just hadn’t any real reason before tonight. without a word, he used his free hand to strip himself of the last piece of beskar on his body, blindly setting it in the sling in which the child typically occupied. “usually.” he replied.

your ears perked up in response to the hiss that emitted from the removal of his helmet. that wasn’t the intent behind your question, but you knew he wouldn’t have taken it off if he didn’t want to. you had witnessed much worse pressure regarding what he hid under that helmet, and you were sure what you saw wasn’t even the brunt of it. your heart started to pound rapidly as you realized he was completely un-armoured behind you, and while you figured the darkness that engulfed the space made it much easier for him, it was still a demonstration of trust no matter how you framed it. you wanted to tell him you’d lie if anyone asked if you’d seen him, that you hadn’t gotten a good look at his face and he didn’t have to consider himself a mandalorian no more. he had dedicated his entire life to his creed, and while he made a conscious decision to share that part of himself with the child, it broke your heart to see that taken from him. however, you were silently happy to put a face to his voice, especially his face. he was beautiful— from his aquiline nose to the soft curve of his jaw, you had to keep yourself from gasping at the sight of him.

“do you want children?” din asked abruptly. either his curiosity worked faster than his common sense or he had just abandoned all shame on the flagship with the child. when you didn’t answer, he continued. “i can imagine you with kids, pregnant.” he had, plenty of times. you were great with grogu. you were doting, patient, understanding; all of the things a mother should be. he sometimes wondered what you would be like with your own children, and the image he created in his head, your belly swollen with fertility, never failed to make his cock stir. he fell silent again.

“yeah?”

“mm.” he stifled. your voice was so tiny, he wasn’t sure if it made his heart crush or his pants tight. judging by the burning desire to shift his hips, he went with the latter.

“i don’t know if there’s anyone i could imagine having children with,” you answered plainly. you had your two boys as family. you had never imagined adding another member as you always thought this was more than enough— your heart had been filled beyond content, but now that you were missing a piece you assumed it was only natural for you both to search for something to fill that void.

“well, we made a great pair.”

din’s choice of words made your insides twist. the pounding of your heart was exiting your chest and heading south, finding domicile in-between your legs. “you think we would make good parents?” you countered, voice meek and uncertain.

he hardened at the sound of we. he wondered if you had ever let your thoughts wonder in the same direction. “we did well with him.”

“we did.” you agree. his breath fanned the back of your neck— it was steady, hot, and forced you to bite back a groan. you never thought you would feel such a thing. there was no barrier between you, nothing to keep you from turning around and touching him, feeling him.

“do you think we could do it again one day?”

one day. you hadn’t stopped to consider what your purpose here would be anymore. sure, he was the one who had asked you to stay, but that was under a different circumstance. he needed you to take care of the child. now what? he had every right to dump you wherever you landed and return to his lone hunting days. you knew better than to ever expect so little from him, his words told you. you turned your head to look into nothingness, hoping to find him somewhere in the dark, but you felt your nose graze his instead and your entire body lit on fire. “what, raise a foundling?”

“no, a child.” his hand ghosted underneath the loose tunic you wore and tickled the soft skin of your stomach. you shivered and he froze, cursing himself for sharing such intimate thoughts aloud. he thought his watchful eye had observed the same feelings in you, but perhaps he had been gravely mistaken. these secrets weren’t anything new but they were well kept— maybe they were better that way. “i’m sorry,” he expressed, beginning to pull and turn away for the second time tonight. his cheeks were burning from humiliation. today had scrambled his brain, he wasn’t thinking straight. “that was inappropriate. if you could please forget—“

“din,” you interrupted. that shut him up. he was always so well mannered and sometimes it was exhausting. sometimes you wanted him to be thrusting with you, like he was with everyone else. he treated you as if you were made of glass at times, leaving you to wonder if he either thought too little or too much of you. your hips pushed back into his— the action itself was feathery, timid, but he noticed. he gripped the exposed flesh of your waist by instinct, forcing your bottom flush to his groin. it was then you could feel the tent that had formed in his pants.

“hm?” his voice had deepened.

“fuck me, please,” you begged through an incapacitated whine— one much more desperate than you anticipated.

you both needed something to fill the space, the growing emptiness that had clearly submerged the both of you. there was no denying that this tension had developed long before this moment, through late-night conversations and subtle, warm-hearted touches, but neither of you craved it so badly until now. you felt like he was the only man in the galaxy, and even if he wasn’t, he was the only one you needed right now.

you didn’t have to ask him twice. he’d already tugged your damp panties to the side and shimmied his pants down far enough to let his aching cock spring free. he was vigilant— thrusts shallow and touches tender. his fingertips trailed upwards to fist at your throat and pull you back into his shoulder. his grip was dulcet as he dragged his wet lips up the sensitive skin of your neck, coming to a halt once they hovered above your own. you couldn’t see him, but you could feel his eyes boring into your own. you encouraged him with a bump of your nose to his, hand flying up to entwine in the dark curls atop his head. he fell forward, enveloping your mouth with his. you’d spent nights wondering what he tasted like, if he would be gentle or rough, rushed or slow. the reality was not comparable to your girlish fantasies. you melted into the kiss, his lips hot and fervent. he swallowed your wanton moans, restraining the groans of his own that bubbled in his chest. he didn’t pull away until his lungs felt near collapse. “so good for me.” he panted.

the way his tone shook betrayed the softness of his act. he was holding you as if you would break, and while you appreciated the thought behind his efforts, you couldn’t help but reassure him. “use me, din. it’s okay.”

you could tell he was holding back, that he needed it; the release, the control. he relinquished it today and you were presenting yourself to him to help fix that. he was meticulous and prudent, always one step ahead of everyone else. the problem being when things didn’t go his way, he felt like he was going to explode. you knew this, and you could see it in the way he walked, talked, and fucked you— he thought he was stealthier than that, but perhaps he had finally let someone close enough to just… know.

the way din fucked you like a starved man left room for no complaints. he kissed you so sensually and used you like nothing but an outlet for his frustrations. he so badly wanted to reproduce what he yearned for his entire life, what he’d finally gotten and had ripped away from him at his own hand— a family, and with you.

you fell asleep that night with your head on his chest, lulled by the rhythmic rising and falling of his breathing. you cared for him, given him your body. he had seen you at your most vulnerable, naked and squirming underneath him. kid or not, you didn’t imagine things returning to whatever “normal” you had spent so long perfecting. you expected things to change in the morning, and so did he.

different, they were, your ideas of change regarding the dynamic you shared. you woke alone, and while the empty half of his bed made your heart sink, you considered both his tendency to throw himself into his work and his growing adaption to impuissance. you scrambled up to the cockpit once you had gotten dressed, plopping down in the co-pilot seat with a buoyant greeting. you were addressed with a curt “morning” before he turned his focus back to the sky. you felt physically sick— in all of the time you’d known him, he had never said something so short. you barely recognized the tone of his voice.

at first, you wondered if he only needed you for the night— you’d never seen din so upset and in need of comfort. both of your minds were fogged by loss, need, and desire. you thought you knew him better than that— to shut you out in the cold. while din gave you his body, and he, yours, you couldn’t imagine where he stood in regards to your relationship, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near where you wanted him. he hadn’t mentioned it since that night and it had been days. it wasn’t even as if nothing had happened, which honestly, you think you would have been better. at least, in that case, you could pretend that nothing had happened. no, it was much worse. he offered a curt hello every morning, goodbye when he left for a job and goodnight when he clocked in for the night. it grew more painful with each passing day— you cried yourself to sleep each night, feeling stupid and unwanted. the humiliation of it all kept you from asking, but the care you had for him that burdened you so heavily kept you from packing your bags every day. you knew din, you loved din. romantically or platonically, it did not matter. you couldn’t just turn your back on him, so why was he turning his on you? was he ashamed? had he used you? did he want you gone? you couldn’t tell and you were getting sick of waiting around.

din had to complete a job back on nevarro— what, you didn’t ask. he at least had the decency to wait until you were awake, though he was already halfway off of the razor crest before you could even finish rubbing your eyes. you huffed and puffed your way around the ship for the millionth time, left with absolutely nothing to do, nothing to entertain yourself with besides the rants of teeming rage to no one in particular. did he expect you to wait here every single day, whine at the door like an abandoned dog? fuck him, you thought, waltzing your way off of the vessel and into the nearest bar.

din returned late in the night, the unfamiliar sound of an empty ship making his entire demeanour shift. he practically tore the place apart before hastening along the innards and outskirts of the volcanic planet. he was nervous things would change, too. maybe he was afraid, but in being so he sabotaged everything he had ever wanted. you had such a perfect dynamic and despite having yearned for this— real, tender love— forever, he didn’t know what to do with it now that it had slapped him in the face, so he pushed you away like a scared, lost child. paired with the grief he was experiencing for the first time, he grew overwhelmed and dumbly figured hurting you was easier than coming to terms with his emotions. he was still used to dealing with things on his own. it started as something fatuous, but by the time he had realized how selfish he was being, he’d already committed to the display of hostility. he noticed your efforts slowly diminish, saw how your eyes turned sad and the tone of your voice grew defeated. if he wasn’t ready for whatever the two of you were, you would have understood with a reassuring smile on your face and he knew that. heartbroken or not, you would’ve understood. he knew that and he hated himself for putting you through this— he wanted to be ready so badly. he wanted to let you in and he wanted you to be the one he fully gave himself to, but he didn’t know how. he couldn’t tell you that he wasn’t ready, but he also couldn’t let you walk away when he knows you’re everything he has ever needed. he was ashamed, and now he was afraid that his failure to communicate was the very thing that drove you away. his heart sunk into his stomach at the thought of never seeing you again— he was meant to protect you, to love you. he meant every word he shared, and he wouldn’t allow himself to leave in peace if the last memories you had of him were so dry and hateful. din djarin’s downfall would be his pride, that was for sure.

din stumbled into, what felt like, the hundredth cavern of the evening. his walk was furious and his words were swift as he interrogated nearly every soul he happened past. finally, a pubtender jabbed a finger in your direction, and for a mere second, his entire body relaxed, but it had gone as quick as it came.

there you sat nursing a cup of what he could only assume to be ale. your face was flushed, and the man sitting opposite of you didn’t seem to mind the advantage that came with your drunken state. he eyed you like a piece of meat. jealousy ripped through din’s gut and up into his chest like a bad meal, and it was when he approached your table, chest puffed out and chin pushed up, that the harmonious set of giggles that din loathed so much died out on your tongues. the grimey smile of the man before you dropped first, in which your curiosity led you to follow his frightened gaze. 

“having fun?” din asked. it was the first thing he’d said to you in days that wasn’t along the lines of “morning”, “i’m leaving”, or “goodnight”. he hoped his vocoder masked the bitterness in his tone, because you deserved to enjoy yourself— in fact, he’d never seen you let loose. this realization only angered him more. why with him, and not din? he had surely been less than agreeable as of late, but what stopped you before? your response to his arrival confirmed his suspicions of your murky cup; you shot him a lopsided grin, pushing yourself up from your seat to stumble into his big arms. “i missed you so much, you were gone so long.” you sulked into the crook of his neck, unbothered by the chilly beskar of his suit. his anger almost faltered.

however, din’s scowl hadn’t strayed from the man that sat behind you, quivering in his chair. din hadn’t even had the chance to form a full sentence yet. he didn’t need to. without a word, the stranger shot up from his seat and scurried off somewhere— anywhere that wasn’t within shooting distance of the mandalorian. he wondered if you’d failed to mention him to your little friend.

“let’s go,” he spoke shortly, unhooking the arm that had naturally fallen around your waist— to keep you from falling, he explained to himself. he tossed a small pouch of credits onto the table and turned on his heel to start for the door. he drowned out your slurred pleas— “have a drink with me, din. you’re so grumpy lately, come on. please, it’ll be fun.” the joy in your tone was enough to elicit a long sigh from his vocoder— he missed it, and it was gone because of him. he wondered how long you’d keep up, if he would have to scoop you up in his arms and carry you out kicking and screaming. he was relieved when you trailed behind him like a lost puppy instead.

he continued to brood the entire journey home, and although you were intoxicated, din’s silence didn’t go unnoticed. he sauntered onto the razor crest and you followed. when you sat down, he nearly slammed down a pale of water in front of you and demanded you drink, mumbling something along the lines of how he didn’t “want to be the one to clean up after you in the morning”. your eyes brimmed with tears. while a small part of you was glad you’d gotten more than his four go-to words, he’d made you feel like a burden. you weren’t sure how you’d gone from discussing children to this. you weren’t sure what you had done wrong this time, and you were too scared to ask. you tried to chalk it up to a failed mission, but he’d had plenty of those and he made a point of never taking it out on you. he was once gentle and nurturing under that hard armour of his. he always took care of you and the child first. perhaps it’s the child. you considered. while it was more believable, it wouldn’t help you sleep; your anxious ideas were beginning to gnaw away at your sanity. your fear was enough to sober you up, but you drank the water he presented nonetheless; to keep from a heavy hangover or a seething din, you weren’t sure. you rushed off to your cot once you were finished, leaving him to his thoughts to go drown in your own.

the alcohol certainly didn’t offer any comfort when it came to your emotions. you’d only drank in the first place to stop worrying about all of the turmoil that had developed between the two of you. din usually asked you to stay in the ship when he was gone, but with the child with his kind and after the way the past few days had been going, you needed to be anywhere but. he didn’t even ask questions when he found you, and that stung even more. you wondered why he had even bothered looking if you had become such an obligation for him. the stranger had approached after your first drink, in acknowledgement of the unease on your expression. you weren’t sure of his motives, but after your third or fourth drink (you’d lost count), you didn’t care. he made you laugh, with or at him, he definitely couldn’t tell. but he made you laugh nevertheless, and it was something you direly needed.

din knew he didn’t control you, didn’t own you. he had no right to be angry with the way he had been acting— but he was jealous, bitten by the green-eyed monster, and unable to deny the wrath that spread through his entire body when he saw the way that sad excuse for a man looked at you. the irony almost made him chortle— he liked to think of himself as much more honourable. he might be a bit delusional these days, he thought. it wasn’t that he hadn’t had relationships in passing, but that was the thing, they were in passing. he had no idea how to go about these things. he never took anyone as seriously as you. maybe it was just a fantasy he wasn’t made for, a thought to fill the void. he shook his head at the thought. it was something he could genuinely picture with you one day.

“get out here!” a muffled voice growled, followed by a string of loud, empty insults regarding your antics the night before. his anger grew hotter with each passing second you spent in your cot. you had fallen asleep in the midst of your overthinking. it wasn’t the sound that shook you awake, but the sudden jolt of the ship that forced your body upwards. there was a flock of pirates trailing the ship and it was safe to say that din’s right mind was more than murky— that much was obvious by his exacerbated piloting. you staggered out of bed and up to the front of the ship, following commands and attempting to ignore the many unneeded comments that crackled through his modulator. you tried to ignore them, you really did.

“god, would you quit acting like a sullen child?” you spat. it took din by surprise, his mouth quickly falling shut as he watched your hands fly off the controls, standing to your feet. he had never heard this tone of yours. “you turned your back on me. you made the big-boy decision to shut me out like an incompetent toddler. you are the last person in this galaxy that gets a say in what i do with my time. you are the last person’s opinion i care about right now, and you know what? i deserved last night after being forced to put up with you for so long. it was nice to have some decent company for once, and you went and ruined that too.”

you were right. everything you said was right, and maybe he would’ve agreed if you had kept the last sentence to yourself. he ripped his hands of the wheel to face you, hissing back, “then why don’t i drop you back off so you can go enjoy yourself with your little friend? clearly, i have more important things to do.”

you were no longer sad, but angry. no, fuming. he had just spent the past ten minutes begging for you to wake up and give him a hand, and now, here you were, and he wanted to dump you off of the ship. you knew where he stood, at least. “maybe if you weren’t such a piss-poor pilot, you could do that!” you dramatically threw your arms in the direction of the band of ships that were hot on your tail. that wasn’t true, you both knew that nothing you had said was true— his opinion was what mattered most to you and that’s why it broke you to hear him speak as if you had never meant a thing to him.

it became apparent that your child-like bickering was of less importance when there was a sudden twist of the razor crest, sending your body flying into his lap. you braced the fall by pressing your hands into his beskar-garbed chest, but he had already caught the meat of your hips between his fingers. he forced you down onto his thighs, spinning back to face the sky with his arms reaching around you to domineer the ship. your entire body throbbed with anger— you couldn’t tell if you wanted to sabotage his getaway plan just to see him suffer or if you wanted to rip his helmet off and show him what he was missing— you considered your compromising position clouded your judgement.

din knew he was outnumbered and made the ultimate decision to surrender to the assembly of corsairs. your lack of objection made him uneasy. your drive had come and gone in seconds, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you were thinking. he had thought over every scenario when he took you in— being looted, attacked, taken captive. he always imagined you’d be the more panicked between the two of you, but with the way your jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he thought you were anything but, even through the hushed whispers of “ransom” and “mandalorian” that he knew your sharp ears couldn’t have missed.

the marauder responsible for you held your upper arms so tightly you feared they would bruise, using the grip as leverage to shove you through an opened cell door where you stumbled forward and fell flat onto to your knees. the armoured-man snarled when he was pushed in behind you, but he managed to stand his ground. the beskar made him heavier, you thought through a huff. the slab of a door slammed shut behind din and he spun on his heels to face you. his head tilted looking down at you, and you could feel the heat of his glare without even meeting his eyes. you weren’t sure if he was angrier at you or the pirates. unbeknownst to you, his fury was quickly replaced by curiosity— he wanted to know what was going on in that brain of yours. you sat there for a moment, him with his arms resting indolently at his sides and you staring up at him in irritation. while he was accustomed to your big, doe-eyes and toothy smiles, he liked this look on you. he wondered if he really was playing a cruel game. you eventually fell flat to the floor, pushing yourself back into a wall. he sat opposite you, just a few inches to the left. you assumed it was to have the upper hand in regards to whatever went on the other side of your door— track the nearness of footsteps, listen for any conversation.

din watched those washouts empty the razor crest of anything worth a single credit through a small porthole in the side of what would now be known as your room for the time being. he glanced at you occasionally to check if you were still breathing; you hadn’t exchanged a word since your capture. your arms were crossed over your chest with your bottom lip jutted out. your eyebrows had knitted together in what he could only imagine to be frustration. he thought you looked cute. he wondered if you were trying to give him a taste of his own medicine.

the silence was long, and thick, as if you two were seeing who would crack first. with how din had been acting, it was not going to be you. you’d done enough chasing, and if he really just wanted to rid of you as he said, then so be it. you wouldn’t waste your breath. minutes developed into hours, and you had almost forgotten all about the stupid, silent competition you two were having. your tired eyes scanned over din’s figure for some new scenery, growing sick of the blinding white shade of your cell. you wondered if he had fallen asleep with how little he had moved— his head was tilted back, legs spread wide and bent at the knee, in which his forearms rested idly.

“enjoying the view?”

you jumped, head quickly snapping in the farthest direction from din. the calmness of his voice is what made you vexed. he was always so stoic— it used to arouse you, never knowing what he was thinking, but right now it only pissed you off. how could he be so collected right now?

“no.” you lied through your teeth, and he almost smiled under his helmet. he found your stubbornness endearing. he knew when you were lying. you had been ogling his thighs for the past ten minutes, and his eyes had never left you once. he could’ve been spending this entire time formulating a plan, but instead, he was focused on you— something he should’ve done days ago.

he didn’t move. you knew he didn’t believe you, and the way he only let out a suspicious hum made your blood boil. “it’s your fault we’re in here in the first place.” you said brazenly, not daring to tear your gaze from the T of his visor.

a long silence ensued— one that left you trembling. you wondered if you had made the wrong choice of words. but he knew it was his fault, and maybe apologizing should have been at the top of his list, but with the way your eyes raked over his figure, he wondered if it was also the least of your concerns. he would make up for it later.

his head slowly tilted into his right shoulder. “my fault?” he watched you swallow thickly— he took your taciturnity as encouragement to continue. “maybe i wouldn’t have been so distracted if it weren’t for the little game you were playing at the bar.”

then it clicked— din djarin was jealous. his sudden veer in mien at the cantina, the way he hissed the words “little friend“ as if they physically burnt his tongue to speak. you failed to realize in the heat of the moment. while this didn’t explain away any of his antics leading up to last night, it reassured you that he likely hadn’t had any plans for ridding of you, that in some twisted, soothing way, he still cared about you.

din was smart enough to know you hadn’t wandered off to the cavern with the intentions he suggested, to know that he’d likely forced you out. it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was that he didn’t trust others. he didn’t trust himself. you were beautiful, kind-hearted, intelligent. who wouldn’t take the chance if they saw it? envy nipped at his composure as he thought back to the man. it was din’s fault for not claiming you as his own, he thought.

“you’re blaming me for your inability to do your job?” you practically purred, a small, provoking pout appearing on your lips.

you could hear his fists clench with a quiet squeak, the leather tightening around his large hands. for a moment, the tone of your voice alleviated him of his worries— he could tell you weren’t angry, at least not for now.

“cat got your tongue?” you denied the smirk that threatened your lips, mimicking the tilt of his head with a cock of your brow.

“come here.” his voice is stern— it always was. he was always so certain.

your stare didn’t waver, offering him a short click of your tongue that informed him you didn’t plan on complying. you weren’t going to submit so easily. he put you through hell the past few days, and if he really wanted you, he would have to work for it. little did you know, din loved nothing more than a good chase; it was in his nature to be primal. after all, he was raised a hunter.

a large fist wrapped around the girth of your ankle, yanking you onto your back and across the short span of the floor. din used the same hand to pull you up by your neck, staring directly into the consternation that swam in your softened gaze. your face was only a few mere centimetres from his helmet. you betrayed the look in your eye as your small hand raised to claw at his fist, letting out a puff of air as you began to struggle. his grip only tightened. “don’t fight me.”

you weren’t sure if it was advice or a demand, but you continued to challenge it nonetheless. he sighed as you thrashed in his grip, falling deaf to his words, “it won’t do you any favours, baby.”

unlike you, din welcomed the wicked smile that was tugged at the corners of his lips, waiting another few long seconds before he slammed you down onto the cold tile of your cell floor and pushed himself up onto his knees. he straddled you, wrapping his gloved fingers around your wrists to pin above your head.  “are you going to be good?” he asked.

you nodded eagerly.

“that’s what i thought.” his deep voice crackled through the modulator, hooking his hands under your legs to pull your hips up and around his beskar-clad thigh. “go on, rut.”

your sangfroid had finally cracked— you spent so long glowering and dwelling just to find yourself in the same position that had gotten you there. you dragged your clothed core up the smooth steel of his armour, eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head forward to look down at you. you weren’t sure what made you more nervous— staring into the darkness or up into his helmet. not being able to gouge his expression made you sweat. you wanted to see his face twist in pleasure. you could feel the intensity of his famished stare with each jerk of your hips, but you wanted to see it. and most of all, you wanted to hear him. his long, ceaseless stints of silence left you determined, an unspoken game formulating in which you waited to see how long it would take him to crack. the uncertainty made a rush of arousal soak your panties, a small, damp circle to burgeon on the outer fabric of your pants. you arched your back to reach the edge of the slate of beskar, hips stuttering when you managed to nick your clit in just the right spot. with a gasp, you tugged desperately at his leg, and he obliged, allowing you to pull his thigh further into your mound. you nudged at his growing bulge with each push. “like a desperate bitch in heat.” he teased, coaxing a sheepish whine from the back of your throat.

but it still wasn’t enough— the lack of friction left you yearning, empty. your abdomen was beginning to burn, hips slowly losing momentum. you fell flat to the floor, cheek pressed to the cold tile with steady pants huffing through your lips. you were winded. “it’s not enough.” you complained in a defeated voice, looking up at him in need.

din let the back of his fingertips trace the bone of your cheek, flipping his palm to give it a slight tap. he then gripped your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, a disappointed expression masked underneath his visor. “you take what i give you.” 

both of his hands slipped underneath your knees, trailing up and under your bottom. he ripped his hand back and down, drawing out a cry from your lips. you weren’t concerned with the pirates that wandered the corridor of your cell— you’d stopped thinking with your brain long ago, and now, you thought with your cunt.

your hips flew back into the air in response to the sudden impact, and he took that advantage to pull your legs up and into your chest. he had fallen forward to pin them down with his forearm. it was then he spotted the wetness that had stained your garment. his gaze flickered down at the space between your thighs and the now slick trail of essence you’d left on his thigh. it glimmered.

din lifted his free hand to give a slow, experimental swipe of one of his long digits at the darker patch of material. “aw, what’s this?” he chortled when you squirmed. “have i gotten you all hot and bothered, sweetheart?”

the sound of his ignominious choice of words made you huff, swinging your arms around to the back of his hips to attempt to pull him in— he didn’t budge. “you want me to fuck you?” he tsked. “all you have to do is ask.”

so you begged; you cried, you pleaded, you solicited. he just sat there, head tilted and with no doubt, a shit-eating grin. you turned to your last resort, the one thing you were confident would get you what you wanted; “fuck a baby into me, please, din.”

din may have been specific about his creed and be considered an honourable man among others, but he was still a man— a feral, primal man. you hit him in his soft spot. not only would it get what you wanted, but it also won you your little game— an untamed growl birthed from his chest, tearing off both layers of cloth that kept him from delving deep into your pussy. you were clever, especially when you wanted something, he would give you that. “i can smell you.” he spat as he pulled his stiff length from the confines of his pants.

din let out a long sigh as he buried his cock between your legs, sinking into your tight, wet cavity like a sheath to a sword. his entire body swallowed your own.

this time was different— he was predatory. he had a purpose, a challenge. he was no longer struck with grief. this was no longer about grogu, or that greasy stranger in the bar, or putting you in your place. this was about making you his, and only his. pregnant or not, he didn’t want to have to worry about anyone mistaking you for anyone's but his own. “you’re mine.” he claimed, and it made you dizzy.

“please, again,” you begged, kissing at any exposed patch of skin you could find.

“you. are. mine.” he accentuated each word with a strike of his loin.

you could feel the bulging veins of his length rub into your walls with each thrust, and the pit of your stomach burned with desire. your slick had already begun to dribble down your folds, a suckling sound emitting from your cunt with each jolt he gave— you were sucking him in and he had to fight to pull back.

“look at that, you were made for this.” din heaved, unable to break his gaze from the sight of you unwittingly lugging him in. your body was so naturally submissive to him, already prepared to milk him of his cum. “this is all you’re worth. to be fucked and filled, by me. do you hear me?”

“yes.” you cried.

“by who?”

“by you, din. only you.”

"good girl." 

it was exactly what he wanted to hear. his chest swelled with gratification, head falling forward and into your shoulder. his palms slid down the supple flesh of the underside of your thighs, pulling your legs back and open with each pound of his groin. “you’re gonna make me a daddy, huh?”

the words made you tremor.

“when your tits start to swell and your stomach grows with my seed, everyone will know who fucked this pretty pussy of yours.” din had you spellbound— feeling your breath rip from your chest with each thrust. “you want that, don’t you? for everyone to know you belong to me, to my cock?”

wanton moans filled the cell, and din swore they made his balls dilate with necessity. he didn’t give you the chance to reply, figuring you could barely make a word out between each babble of pleasure, let alone take a breath. your chest rose and fell arrhythmically. he raised a gloved hand to cover your mouth, muffling your uncontrollable noises.

you felt the leather chafe against the skin of your lips, and you couldn’t help but bite into the material to keep from sobs racking your entire body. din took the anchorage to his advantage, tugging his hand free of the encasing, only to stuff your mouth with the hide.

din didn’t think you could get any tighter, but judging by the snug walls of your cunt, he knew you were close.

“you can cum, but i’m not going to stop.” and he didn’t. even as your entire body convulsed underneath him, he never faltered. he continued to relentlessly pummel into your sopping heat, and you knew he wasn’t going to cease until your womb was painted white.

you were drowning in euphoria, tears slipping freely from the corners of your eyes. your hands scattered to clutch the beskar of his helmet to ground you, head falling back and eyes falling shut.

“i will dump however many loads i have to into you every day until your stomach is round with my child. i don’t care if i have to finger it up that cunt of yours myself.”

you wondered if you had blacked out because while you had failed to notice the hissing his helmet that effused with its removal, you hadn’t missed the clear and crisp sound of his voice. your eyes fluttered open, greeted with the tan face of the man whose cock stuffed the innards of your heat. you were in a daze, looking up at him in disbelief until it registered that were staring into din’s eyes. he’d ducked his head out and snatched the bucket out of your hands and to the side.

you moaned at the sight of him, deep in between your legs, but you couldn’t look. it felt so wrong— your stomach twisted, and if you thought your body was shaking moments ago, you were now vibrating. but he wanted you to, he wanted you to see the man who was making you feel this way. he liked how it made you demure, how it made you squirm. he pawed at your jaw, correcting your turned cheek. even though he was fully clothed, he felt so bare. he felt naked— the adrenaline pumped through his body, and his cock twitched.

din was grateful for his visor. he hadn’t much practice in concealing his expressions, and he wondered if the tears threatening his eyes were as obvious to you as they were to him. when he looked down at you, orbs glazed over and face fucked out, he was met with relief. he couldn’t help but dip down and kiss you. it was frenzied and wet, but control was the least of your concerns. his lips trailed down your jaw, up your neck, and to the shell of your ear. “you’re lucky i don’t have anything to plug you up with. would leave it in there for days, make sure you savour every last drop of me. would use your ass instead whenever i need a toy to play with.” he nipped at your earlobe, and you wailed. your hole quivered with need— you were going to climax again, and he was, too.

din pushed himself into you from the balls of his feet, palms slamming down at either side of your head. the very sight of his face contorting in pleasure was enough to push you over the edge, and the constricting of your cavern was enough to milk him for all he was worth— long spurts of his sticky seed nuzzled in deep to your walls. his thighs clenched, a series of groans and moans falling freely from his lips. the sound was so raw, so uncensored. it made you shiver.

your legs closed around his waist to pull him flush to your mound, unable to control the spasms of your muscles as they tensed and relaxed.

din looked down at you in revere, running his bare palm up and through your hair. he waited until your body had stilled to slowly pull his cock out from you. ropes of creamy-coloured cum spilled down your thighs, and he had to keep himself from staring once he’d plopped down next to you. he dug the wet glove out between your lips and pulled you tight to his chest.

“you could’ve just said something to me, but i suppose that wasn’t so bad.” you joked breathlessly, and din chuckled. he pressed ample kisses to your temple, fingers soothing the skin of your hips. he countered with a string of whispered apologies, promising it would never happen again.

now that you’d dealt with the first problem, you just had to find your way out of here.

#this has more angst than i was anticipating… #going to watch grogu and din reunite again actually #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin oneshot #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the mandalorian

[chaoticgeminate]

Iridescence Fictional Universe Masterlist

Welcome to my most ambitious writing project yet, I hope you find something you enjoy here.

Went ahead and made a taglist, so if you haven't joined it yet and you'd like updates to this series please follow this link :)

As I add more to this universe I will generally make edits to this page, including creating an organized timeline of published stories and a glossary of characters. Pay attention to updates made to the list of unreleased stories, certain ones are going to have coded readers so I'm going to be as open and transparent about it where I can be.

Each of the titles are their own mini-series and worlds, all interconnected into one massive fictional world.

Any and all asks/requests are welcome, whether you are curious about a certain story or an event that happens for a specific pair or even world building stuff.

If you would like to become a side character for the 'verse just hit me up in DMs :)

The Series Rating is 18+ and I ask that all minors respect that rule, some of the parts will feature semi-graphic descriptions of violence and gore or concepts of death, there will likely be smut, and regardless of the individual rating of each segment I'm going to tag everything as M.

Happy reading 💖

World Building Snippets:

Origins of Magic

Were-kin vs Shifters

Dieties, Priest(ess), Protector

Currently Released WIPs:

Chasing Shadows - Shade!Thief x Purple Witch fem!Reader

Precious Sea Glass - Dragon!Pero x Nereid fem!Reader

Blood Price - Regent Lord!Max x Light Elf fem!Reader

Sparkling Embers - Hellhound!Javi Gutierrez x Half-Pixie fem!Reader

Hunter's Gambit - Werewolf!Frankie x Selkie fem!Reader

Whiskey Serenades - Coyote Shifter!Jack x Foxwoman fem!Reader

Clear Skies - Mage!Marcus Moreno x Astromancer fem!Reader

Locked & Loaded - Dave York x Psychic fem!Reader

Forest Affairs - Sidhe!Din Djarin x Sidhe Green Witch!Reader

Series To Come:

Tempting Fates - Incubus!Oberyn x Nymph!Ellaria x Magician fem!Reader

Sunset at Noon - Dark Elf!Ezra x Cambion fem!Reader

Spell Stalkers - Javier Peña x WereJaguar (Latina) fem!Reader

Resonating Heartbeats - Marcus Pike x Voduun (Black) fem!Reader

Bloom Again - Dryad!Maxwell Lord x Floraed (AMAB) fem!Reader

Untitled - Mage!Dieter Bravo x Shaman fem!Reader

Untitled - Empath!Zach Wellison x Wind Dragon fem!Reader

Untitled - Saytr!Charlie x Faun fem!Reader

Untitled - Dreamwalker!Nico x Apothecarian fem!Reader (has Fibromyalgia)

Untitled - Domovoi!Gio x Haltija fem!Reader

#chaoticwriting #chaoticmasterlist #Iridescence Fictional Universe

[unhinged-summer-fun]

FLUNKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST.

Because I can’t do things by halves, I’ve decided to mash up flufftober, whumptober, and kinktober this year on days I choose to write fills for. I’m not gonna tag anyone for these, sorry, but you can bookmark this post and come back in November for the complete list. Strikethru text indicates I didn’t get to that prompt.

Day 1: Boba Fett x GN!Reader x Sarlacc (Winning the other a teddy, bound, and masks)

Day 2: Dave York x F!Reader (choking/gagging, sneaking out together, asphyxiation, public sex, orgasm denial)

Day 3: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader (lazy Sundays, licking, pet play, anxiety)

Day 4: Dave York x F!Reader (Sparklers & Fireworks, taken hostage, gags)

Day 5: Comandante Veracruz x F!Reader (watching the sunrise, broken nose, swallowing, gun play)

Day 6: Pero Tovar x F!Reader (Fireman’s carry, touch-starved, hunger, masturbation, nipple play)

Day 7: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader (meddling friends, numbness, blindness, accidental stimulation, massage)

Day 8: Din Djarin x F!Reader (cooking lessons, exotic illness, pegging)

Day 9: Dave York x Reader (text messages, tears, cock worship)

Day 10: Max Phillips x F!Reader (pillow fight, impact play, aphrodisiacs, hospital)

Day 11: Agent Whiskey x Reader (Love Notes, overstimulation, fucking machines, dehydration)

Day 12: Frankie Morales x Reader (Sleepy kiss, begging, biting)

Day 13: Boba Fett x Din Djarin (pillow talk, This Is Gonna Leave A Mark, anal, sex toys)

Day 14: Boba Fett x GN!Reader x Sarlacc (sequel to Day 1, slow dancing, under pressure, orgy)

Day 15: Ezra x Reader (delirium, fever dreams, silly traditions, ass worship, spanking)

Day 16: Zach Wellison x Reader (falling asleep together, recovery, role reversal)

Day 17: Pero Tovar x William (Great Wall) (“Please don’t move!”, dread, knife play, restrained/bondage)

Day 18: Frankie Morales x Reader (uniforms, costumes, doctor’s visit)

Day 19: Max Phillips x Reader (bitten, bleeding, flowers, food play)

Day 20: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader (sequel to Day 3!) (lost & found, secret crush, roleplay, object insertion)

Day 21: Din Djarin x Fennec Shand (bleeding through bandages, blood-matted hair, knuckle kiss, size difference, seduction)

Day 22: Din Djarin x Boba Fett x F!Reader (they made me do it, cursed/demon/obsession, flirting at work, cunnilingus, spit-roasting)

Day 23: Maxwell Lord x Reader (you break it, you buy it, hold me in your arms, lingerie, forced (consensual) orgasm, angry sex)

Day 24: Zach Wellison x Reader (flashback, caught in the rain, praise kink)

Day 25: Max Phillips x F!Reader (cuddling & snuggling, escape/flight/hiding, bite fetish, being recorded during sex, body swap)

Day 26: Elder God!Boba Fett x F!Reader (art of second place) (fallen, new hobby together, sleepy sex, mirror sex)

Day 27: Agent Whiskey x Reader (“I’m cold” “here, have my jacket”, passing out, collapse, clothes swap, daddy kink)

Day 28: Zach Wellison x Reader (nightmare, panic, soothing baths, empathic bonds)

Day 29: Javier Peña x Reader (too weak to move, overworked, up against the wall kiss, creampie, face-sitting)

Day 30: Boba Fett x Din Djarin x Fennec Shand (threesome, suspension, ghosts, fall asleep in my lap)

Day 31: Oberyn Martell x Reader (holiday traditions, disaster zone, stockings)

Back to main masterlist.

#flunktober #masterlist #unhingery

[beskarhearts]

Where You Belong (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series Pt. 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, nightmares, loss, anxiety, angst (and lots of fluff)

Word count: over 7.5K

Summary: Din takes you on a picnic but also realizes he had forgotten to tell you something very important.

Notes: This chapter... it was an experience to write it. I am really interested to see your reaction to it and I hope you love it! I was also wondering from any other fanfic writers and from you readers: what do you think is the best time to post new chapters?

Previous Part ____ Next Part

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You walked into your grandmother’s room to find her pacing around frantically. You instantly recognized the expression on her face. She was pissed. Absolutely livid. Her face was all scrunched up, her eyebrows bunched together, and she was biting her lip raw. She didn’t even notice you in the doorway, clearly too busy being consumed in her thoughts. “Who put you in this great of a mood, Gram?” you joked, half expecting her to go off on a tangent about your mother. The two of them had been at each others throats lately, especially ever since you accidentally revealed to your mom that your grandma had been training you.

Her train of thought broke and she jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting any visitors. She turned to look at you, her eyes warming up a little bit at the sight of you but you could still feel the upset radiating off her body. You both were similar in that way: you both felt deeply. “Damn Mandalorians.”

It was now your turn to scrunch up your eyebrows, giving her a quizzical expression at her answer. You had heard of Mandalorians and knew they were armored bounty hunters. But your knowledge didn’t really surpass that.  “Mandalorians?”

She scoffed, as if the question was so stupid, and shook her head. “Yes. I ran into one on my way home from town and,” she bit her lip, trying to find something to say besides just a string of curse words “They are ignorant and awful people.”

The statement shocked you. Gram was a strong, hard-headed woman who wasn’t ever afraid to tell the truth. But she wasn’t biased. She was accepting of all people, creatures, animals, and even droids. It was just part of her, to accept people as they were and not judge them based off what they looked like or their beliefs. “Woah. What is so wrong with Mandalorians?”

You knew it wasn’t because of their job. You lived on Jakku your whole life and had seen everything, from scavengers to bounty hunters to even worse. It was part of everyday life here and never appeared to bother her. “They hate us. Because of who we are.”

“What?”

“Mandalorians and Jedis do not get along. They are enemies.”

She finally sat down on her bed, strumming her fingers against her thighs. She was still frustrated but seeming to calm down. You sat next to her, looking over at her. “Why?”

“There was a Mandalorian-Jedi War that happened on their planet, the planet of Mandalore.”‘

“Mandalorians have their own planet?”

“Not anymore. In the war, the Jedi’s won but they destroyed Mandalore. It’s practically inhospitable.”

Your face softened. That sounded horrible. You couldn’t imagine your home planet just being destroyed into absolute nothingness. Your Gram noticed your expression and shook her head. “You are too kind. You can’t empathize with the Mandalorians.”

“Their whole entire planet got destroyed. That seems... extreme.”

The woman stood up, now facing you with a fierceness in her eyes and her finger pointed at you. “The only reason that war happened is because the Mandalorians hated us. They didn’t understand our powers and instead of leaving us alone, they created weapons and armor to destroy us.”

“Okay. But that was in the past.”

“It doesn’t matter. That hatred is still there.” She bent down so she could be eye level. “Listen to me closely. If you ever meet an Mandalorian, do not trust them or befriend them. Because as soon as they learn what you are, they will hate you and probably want to kill you. Mandalorians are brutish people with no compassion. They might as well be damn droids. Do you understand?”

You had never heard your grandmother speak about anyone like this and it shocked you to the core. You questioned whether or not this was just some old beef she was still holding onto, or whether this was reality. Either way, you nodded your head slowly, not wanting to upset her further. “Okay. I won’t.”

_________________________________

“Din, this is taking forever.”

“Sweet one, you are being very impatient.”

“I just don’t like my vision being restricted.”

“I am leading you to something you will like.”

“Can’t I just close my eyes on my own and you can take your big man hands away from my eyes?”

“No. Because you will look.”

You huff at his response, crossing your arms as Din continued leading you towards this secret destination. It was true - you probably would try to sneak a peak - but you just wanted his hand off your face because it was making you uneasy. One hand was still gloved but the other wasn’t and that was the one covering your eyes. His whole hand was so large, covering a ridiculously large portion of your face, and they were warm. You could feel yourself flush from the skin to skin contact.  “Well, are we close at least?”

“Yes.” 

Din had told you that you guys were landing on a random planet and he had a surprise for you. He had locked you in the ship, telling you not look out the windows of the cockpit, and gone outside for what felt like forever. Then once he finally came back, he insisted you couldn’t look until you were at the surprise. But that had felt like forever ago and you two had just been walking on and on. You tried to pay attention to your surroundings as much as you could, gathering clues as to where you were and what you were doing. You knew their was grass because it was brushing against your ankles with each step you took towards your destination. It was also moist, meaning you were probably on a planet where it rained. Every once and a while, you would heard a loud squawk ring out, meaning there were animals of some type around. But otherwise, all you heard was the rustling of the breeze against the grass and what you believed to be trees. You didn’t hear any other voices or sounds for miles, meaning you were most likely completely alone.You could feel the sun on your skin, spreading warmth throughout your body. It sounded weird but you could smell the nature. You could smell the grass and the wind and something sweet - maybe a fruit or flower of some sort.

You continued walking until your foot tumbled into something hard, causing you to spring forward and Din held you up so you didn’t fall. “See? This is a safety hazard. I could of died just now.”

Din let out a scoff and he was so close that it felt like you could feel the modulator reverberate through you. “I’m holding on to you. You weren’t going to die.”

“That’s what you think. But just wait. A rock is going to take me out and then you will be sorry.” 

Din finally stopped, your body once again lurching against him in the sudden  change. His hand still covered your eyes, fingers pressed tightly together so you couldn’t peak through. “Are you going to keep blabbering or do you want to see what it is?”

You smiled big, finally satisfied that you had stopped walking. “We are finally done walking?”

“You whine a lot for a person being surprised.”

You let out a laugh at the insult. “And you are very bossy for a man being the surpriser.” 

Another exasperated sigh. “Maybe we should head back to the Crest.”

“Oh, shut up and take your hands off me.” Din’s hand finally dropped from your face and it took you a second to adjust to the surroundings. It was bright, the sun shining above you two. You blinked a few times, finally adjusting to the change when you let out a small gasp. 

You were stood in the middle of a field full of hundreds of flowers. They were of all kinds, some short and some tall. Some were large and some were small. They came in every color you could ever imagine and you swore you had never seen something so beautiful. You had never lived in a place that wasn’t mostly barren and almost monochromatic. You knew there were planets with flowers and colors and vibrancy, but you never could of imagined that it could be this gorgeous. You took a deep breath in, smelling the divine sweetness of all the plants surrounding you. A small laugh escaped your lips at the wonder of it. This seemed like a place totally unscathed by the word. It hadn’t been touched by the evil and corruptness of this galaxy and there was an inherent pureness to it. 

You heard a shuffle through the flowers and looked down to find the kid, grabbing at flowers with a big smile. You knew what was coming before it even happened as he grabbed a handful of petals and shoved it into his mouth. You giggled as Din bent over, scolding him about not eating everything he saw.

You turned back to look at everything when your eyes landed on a blanket in the middle of the field, laid out perfectly. It was one of the blankets you had bought at the marketplace, it’s beautiful array of colors nearly blending in with the flowers. Neatly arranged on the blanket was a variety of food and a container of drink. You felt the biggest smile crawl onto your face as you realized what it was. “Din Djarin, did you set up a picnic?”

You turned around, seeing him standing there in the field with the kid held in his arms. The sight of it took your breath away. The sun reflected off Din’s armor, making him stand out and shine. The contrast between the silver of the metal and the flowers around him was stunning. The kid was held in his arm, trying to get away with a big toothy grin on his face, a petal in the corner of his mouth as his ears flopped gently in the breeze. You were taken aback by how beautiful your family was and how much joy a single moment like this could make you feel. You felt in that moment like this is where you belonged. Wherever Din was was where you knew you were meant to be.

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Din said, shrugging his shoulders as if this wasn’t the one of the nicest things anybody had ever done with you. You found yourself wanting to run towards him and hug him, feel him hold you in his arms, with your kid between you guys letting out little giggles. “I thought this would be okay. A nice stop.”

“Okay?” You shook your head at Din. “Din, this is... breathtaking. I have never seen anything like this.”

Din stepped towards you, his helmet leaning down as you made eye contact with his visor. “I’m glad. You deserve something like this.”

You shyly smiled at his words, cursing yourself for feeling your face heat up. “So do you, Din.” 

_________________________________

You had now spent hours out here, sitting in this field with Din while just talking and playing with the kid, who had somehow successfully caught (and eaten) three butterflies. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping slightly, although it was a pleasant, welcoming coolness after a day in the sun. You had eaten food and it was all delicious. Succulent, juicy fruits and bread that had been warmed by the sun. Now the child was asleep and back in his hover pram, the cover on completely in order to block any light from bothering him. 

You turned to look over at Din, who had sat with you the whole time, and suddenly felt incredibly rude. “Din, you didn’t eat anything.”

Din shrugged his shoulders. You knew he probably hadn’t even noticed. When you first joined him, you noticed that he could go hours without eating. It was very inconvenient for him to eat, especially when there were people around. And you understood that but you swore the man could go literal days without consuming anything and he wouldn’t even think twice about it. You eventually started forcing him to eat, leaving him alone in the hull of the ship while you and the kid sat in the cockpit, that way he could eat alone and properly enjoy a meal. “I’m fine.” 

You shook your head and started pushing the food in front of him. “No, come on. You need to eat.” You looked all around, surveying the area for any people. You hadn’t seen a single soul today and Din told you there were no inhabitants on the planet, which you found shocking. “How about I take the kid back to the Crest and you can eat out here? Enjoy the fresh air.”

You started rising from your place on the ground when Din grabbed at your arm, pulling you down. “No. Don’t go.”

You smiled at the tone of his voice. “It’s fine.”

“Wait,” You paused again, looking back at Din to see his helmet looking right at you. “I trust you.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows, not exactly sure how that pertained to the discussion but you still felt warmth pool in your chest. “I’m very glad you trust me but I don’t know what that has to do with you eating.”

“I have an idea.”

You quirked an eyebrow, tilting your head at him. “What?”

“Just sit right there, okay?” 

You nodded slowly, dropping yourself back down next to him. You watched as Din’s hand left your wrist and he brought them up to his neck, pulling at the bunch of fabric wrapped around it. “Din, what are you doing?”

The fabric pooled away from his neck and you tried your best to tear your eyes away from the skin but found it hard to. His skin was tan, surprising to you since he always wore the armor, but it looked warm and inviting. “Just let me do something.”

Din scooted closer to you, taking the scarf in his hands and folding it over before bringing it up to your face. You leaned back a little until he pulled the fabric over your eyes and you realized what he was doing. You felt him tug at the back of your head, securely tying the fabric in place. “Can you see anything?”

You turned your head in the direction the voice was coming from. It was pitch black and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing unless you tore the fabric away. “No. Completely dark.”

“You okay like that?”

You smiled softly at his question. You appreciated how he always checked in on you, to make sure you were okay. Even if it inconvenienced his comfortability. “Yes. I’m very comfortable with blindfolds.” You meant it as a joke but felt yourself cringe at the words that spilled from your mouth. “That sounded way worse than I meant it.”

You heard Din snort, a sound that wiped away any embarrassment you felt. “Okay. I’m going to take it off. Just don’t take the scarf away from your eyes.”

“I won’t.”

A click rung out, followed by a long hiss, and it suddenly hit you. Din was taking his helmet off. You knew he did that before. He surely didn’t shower or sleep with it on. But when he was doing those things, you weren’t sat right next to him. You didn’t have the power to look, not that you ever would put him in that situation. You found yourself wondering if he had ever done this before with anyone else. 

You heard some shuffling and a plop on the blanket, probably him placing his helmet right next to him. You listened closely for the next sound to signal what was happening when you heard him take what sounded like a bite, that was followed by a hum. You smiled, glad that Din was able to enjoy the meal and not just scarf it down as fast as possible like he always did. “This fruit is good.”

Maker. You felt like your whole entire body just melted. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that since Din’s helmet was off, you would hear his voice. Like his actual voice. Nothing modulated or tainted by a helmet. Just him. And it was the best sound you had ever heard. His voice was still kind of raspy like it was in the helmet, but softer and so much warmer. It reminded you of the sun and the happiness it brought you. And it was a weird thing to think, but you thought that his voice sounded like how brown eyes look. At least how you think his eyes looked. You suddenly cursed his damn helmet for blocking out his sweet voice and couldn’t believe this was your first time hearing it, unfiltered and just so uniquely Din. 

“Y-yeah.” You mumbled out, still being so affected by hearing his voice. 

“Are you okay?” You smiled brightly at his question. You swear you could listen to him talk all day. The man could never shut up and you would be perfectly content. You found yourself plotting ways to get him to take off the helmet so you could hear it more often, not caring that you had to wear a blindfold in order to hear it.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You are just... smiling.”

You probably looked like a raging lunatic, a blindfold over your eyes and the biggest smile on your face as Din just sat there and ate. “I’ve never heard your voice before. At least not without the helmet.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got a great voice.” 

“I have a great voice?” Genuine confusion could be heard and you let out a little chuckle at it.

“Yes. It’s nice. Comforting.” You spared him anymore details, probably already making a fool of yourself and not wanting to embarrass him further by droning on about his voice, because you knew you could do it.

“I’ve never had anyone tell me that. Though I can’t really think of anyone whose heard my voice before.”

“Well, I feel honored.” You laid back against the blanket, not being able to see it, but facing the sky. You brought your hands to behind your head, leaning back on them. “Talk more.”

A small noise, perhaps a clearing of the throat, could be heard in response to that. “About what?”

You paused a moment, thinking before coming to an answer. “Teach me some Mando’a.” You loved hearing Din speak Mando’a. It was a part of his life he was able to share with others and you imagined hearing him speak it without the helmet on was even better.

“Okay. Let me think.” Din paused and you heard him take another bite. You imagined him, fully clad in his armor with his head poking out. You had a hard time imagining his face but you still had a few ideas. He probably had brown hair that matched eyes. He didn’t seem like a guy with light hair or really, really dark hair. He probably had a nice, strong chin that matched his personality. “Mesh’la.”

You repeated the word, nodding when he hummed to indicate you pronounced it properly. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful.”

You smiled. That seemed like a perfect word to describe this moment. “Good word for this place.”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Aliit. That means family.”

You smiled again. “Aliit. I like that word. Keep going.”

“Cabur.” 

“And that means?”

“Protector.” 

“Very fitting for you.”

“You think so?” His voice was softer this time and you could sense a feeling of either pride or perhaps gratefulness. It made your heart soften. You knew how seriously he took protecting you guys, and cabur seemed like the perfect title for him. 

You nodded quickly. “Of course, Din. Tell me more.”

“So needy.” You heard him laugh and Maker, it was even better than his voice. Even warmer and brighter. 

“Shut up and keep talking.” You teased, one of the corners of your lips quirking upwards.

“Mir’sheb.”

“Ooh, let me guess. Something sweet and nice.”

“Smart ass.”

You let out a loud laugh at that one, sitting upright again, getting closer to Din and hearing his laugh echo out once again into the field. His laugh was all-consuming and like that first breath of fresh air after going so long without it. “What does shit head mean? That way I can have a new, special nick name for you.”

Din let out another laugh at the joke. “I don’t know about shit head but shit is osik.”

“I like that word.”

“Of course you do.” 

You both chuckle and you hear him eat some more food. “One more word.”

You heard him hum, pausing for a few moments. “Murcyur.”

“What does that one mean?”

“Kiss.” 

You froze completely. Why the hell would Din say something like that? Because now all you can think about is kissing Din and the mere thought of it is giving you heart palpitations and you feel like you might just explode. His lips are just out, exposed. Probably very kissable. They are probably like his hands - rough but also soft. The kind of lips that are masculine but gentle, not over aggressive. 

Shit. This is not okay. You can’t be thinking about kissing Din. Because this is just a rabbit hole and one second you are thinking about kissing Din and the next you are wanting to marry the man. And you don’t live the kind of life where you can just think things like this.

Then you realized you couldn’t see Din and what if he was going to do something. Something like kiss you. You’re pretty sure that if he did that, you’d fucking pass out and you can’t have that happen. You let out an awkward chuckle, not even sure why you were laughing but not able to stop it. “Good to know, buster.”

Where the fuck did buster come from? You are pretty sure you have never, ever said that word your whole entire life. And you are certain that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Out of all the dumb shit to leave your mouth, that took the cake. Change the topic, dumb ass. “Can I ask you a question?”

You didn’t even have a fucking question planned. What were you doing? You heard Din say, “Yeah.” and your mind blanked. 

Any question. A single question. “What happens if someone sees your face?” 

Great, now he probably just thinks that is all you care about. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if you are in the refresher and I accidentally walk in on you? Do you have to kill me?”

“Do you often think about walking in on me when I’m in the refresher?” Din said the words plainly, like he was asking an innocent question, but you swore you could hear the grin on his face.

You scoffed theatrically, hoping you weren’t showing just how flustered you were. “No. I was just inquiring.”

Din hummed, still teasing you, and you suddenly wanted him to shut up very badly. He was getting too cocky. “Well, one of two things happen if someone sees me. First option is I kill them.”

“Well then I will definitely never walk in on you in the shower.” You paused. “N-not that I wanted to.”

“Well, I wouldn’t kill you anyways. I never could.”

“What then? Drop me off on a planet?”

Din scoffed like you had suggested the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I would never abandon you. Ever.”

“Well then, what is this second option?” Din is suddenly silent and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he simply disappeared. “Hello?”

“Well, you either kill them or... ummm-” You hear him fumble with his words and normally you’d find it adorable (especially without the helmet) but now it is just making you nervous.

“Or..?”

“Marry them.”

Now that caused you to take a sharp intake of air in and then start choking like a damn idiot. You swore that the galaxy had it out for you in that moment because this was all way too much for you to handle. Din and you in a field of the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen, talking about kissing and marrying and hearing his voice... It was like you were overdosing. 

Then you were hit with the realization of what Din truly said. If Din wouldn’t kill you or ditch you if you ever accidentally saw him... shit. “Huh... neat.” You muttered, finally trying to collect yourself.

“You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Make a joke or something. “You just better hope I never accidentally see that face of yours because you don’t want to be stuck with me as your riddur.”

“How do you know that word?”

“What word?”

“Riddur.”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the woman at the stand had taught you that word and not Din. “You must have said it before.”

“I’ve never said that word before.”

“Oh, yes. It must of been from my secret Mando’a tutor then.” You smirked, hoping Din shrugged it off and luckily he didn’t say anything else.

“Let me put my helmet back on.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“No. It’s getting dark and I’ve had it off long enough.” You heard some movement and then a click that you registered as Din’s helmet being put back on. You then heard him shuffle towards you, his fingers untying the knot and the scarf dropping from your eyes. You blinked a few times and realized it was getting pretty dark, the sun just barely skirting the horizon. You turned, seeing Din besides you, putting the scarf back around his neck. 

You gave him a small smile. “This was nice.”

“Yeah. It was.” He gave you a small nod before starting to stand. “We should start heading back to the Crest.”

“Yeah.”

_________________________________

Your nightmares happen way less often but now when they occur, it’s worse than before.

It is always the same thing. Your home, the very place you had been born in all those years ago, was up in flames, illuminating the night sky in a way that caused your stomach to twist up. The wounds on your back and arms were fresh, stinging so much with every movement that it felt like you would bunch over and hurl from it. You keep stumbling and that’s when you find them. Your parents, laid on the ground like rag-dolls. Like they were meaningless. And every time you see them, you let out a wail so loud it seems to consume every part of your being, until you are nothing but the very pain you feel.

That is usually how it would end. But now it wouldn’t just be your parents. Din would be there, in his beskar armor, laid out on the ground. And you couldn’t see his face but every fiber of your being knew he was gone and it was your fault. You would feel your stomach absolutely drop and this terrifying dread fill every part of your body, consuming you until you felt like you’d collapse. And even when you eventually woke up, sweat covering your body and your hands shaking, that feeling would still be there, eating you up raw.

Tonight was no exception. You woke up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating with such an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over you, almost drowning you in it. You brought your shaky hands up to your face, wiping away at the tears streaming down it. Nights like these were tough. You’d lay there on your cot, staring up at the ceiling and fighting sleep. Because you couldn’t fall asleep and see it again. The images were already burned into your mind and that was bad enough. Experiencing it again was a hell you couldn’t endure multiple times, especially not in the same night.

You sit up, planting your hands on your knees and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. The Crest was completely silent, until you heard a small sound from the cockpit. You looked over to where Din slept, finding the door closed which meant he should of been asleep. You reach for the blaster you’ve kept hidden under your pillow, your fingers reaching around it and pulling it in front of you. Your hands were still shaking slightly but you held the blaster confidently in front of you, rising from the cot and slowly letting yourself step towards the noise coming from the cockpit, tip toeing silently towards the ladder leading to the small space. You keep one hand of the blaster, using the other to slowly make your way up. You pop your head up, blaster coming up with you, and exhale when you see it’s just Din in his seat, polishing some armor. 

“Din, what are you doing?” You quietly hiss, pulling your whole body up and into the cockpit, putting the blaster down and sitting down in the passengers seat.

Din looked up at you, his helmet moving from his armor to your face. He was in his pajamas still, long sleeve shirt and long pants covering most of his skin. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I,” You trail off, not wanting to bother Din with your nightmare. You would rather ignore it and just talk with him. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You were just knocked out when I came up here.”

“Oh, so you watch me sleep now?” You raise an eyebrow teasingly, already feeling more at ease. 

“Yeah. The drool really does something for me.”

You gasp at Din’s quip, your mouth slightly widened in shock. “I do not drool.”

“Okay, sweet one.” Din sarcastically said, his helmet rolling back down to the armor in his lap.

You roll your eyes, scoffing slightly to which you hear Din chuckle. “Why are you polishing your armor in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just... thinking.”

You lean against one of the chair’s arms, tucking some hair behind your ears. “What were you thinking about?”

Din let out a small sigh and you furrowed your brows. Something was going on. He placed his armor on the floor besides him, looking back up to you. “What do you want from life?”

You tilted your head back, a little shocked by Din’s question. “What do you mean?”

“When you imagine your life in the future, what do you want?”

That was a heavy question. Once, long before the worlds cruel hands had twisted your life, you had hoped for a rather normal future. You could of seen yourself working on Jakku, taking over your father’s business. Maybe even settling down one day and having a kid or two. It was very domestic and probably boring, but it was calm and docile. So wildly different from the life you had been given so far.

But now life was so different. For the longest time, you didn’t think about your future. You just focused on getting through the day. Life was hard enough and plaguing yourself with thoughts of what could of been felt like a cruel joke. Now it was different, though. You found yourself hoping, yearning for some kind of future. And in every version of it, you found yourself incorporating Din somehow. Today you had done that very thing. Laying in that field with Din and the kid, no worries or concerns, made you think. It would be nice to live on a planet like this, where you didn’t have to worry about anybody or anything. Just you, the kid, and Din. 

But that kind of thought was embarrassing to admit out loud. Because while you could confidently say that you and Din were friends, in the end you had been hired to take care of the ship and the kid. And you guys never put a timeline on you job, but you knew it would come to an end one day. Whether that was cause the kid was older or Din didn’t need you anymore or maybe Din found something else, something you didn’t fit into.

“I don’t really know. One day I want to just... settle down, I guess. Not always be so worried.” You shrugged at your answer. It was true, but you let out a lot. “What about you?”

“I never really thought about it before. But now... with the kid and you, it’s hard not to.”

You quirked your head at the answer. You knew the kid had to be part of the reason why Din was thinking about this, but he also mentioned you. Did that mean that in his future he saw you? Or was he just thinking of how one day you’d be gone? “What do you mean?”

“I just want to do right by you guys. You two deserve to be happy and safe.”

“We are happy and safe.”

“This isn’t the life you two deserve. You deserve normalcy and-”

“Din, stop.” You saw the man lean back against his chair, exasperated. “You have changed my life for the better. And the kids. We were both in such dark places before you came along. So don’t belittle what you’ve done for us.”

“Yeah. But I can’t even get the kid to where he belongs.”

You pause at that. To where he belongs? What the kriff did that mean? He belonged with Din, his father, and you. He was safe here. “What?”

Din turned his helmet towards you and let out a loud sigh. “Dank farrik.” 

You looked up at him as he rose from his seat, putting his hands on his helmet like he was cradling his head. “What is it, Din?”

Din let his hands drop, looking over at you. “I haven’t told you something.”

Your heart stopped. This wasn’t good, at all. You could sense it in Din’s demeanor and his tone. “What is going on?”

“The kid... doesn’t belong with me. His powers are too much for me. I can’t help him. He needs someone who knows how to train him.” You knew where this was going before Din even finishes and you feel your stomach drop. “I was quested to find a Jedi who can take him in.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, your head dropping to look down into your lap. You couldn’t look at Din right now. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was shaking, tears pricking at your eyes. 

“I got lost in this, in you. It’s been so nice, like life is normal.” You knew exactly what he was talking about because you had felt it almost every day. And you should of known it was too good to be true. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika.” 

You felt his hands try to reach out for you and you pushed them away, finally looking up at him and feeling tears rush down. “Don’t.” You stood from your seat. “Don’t cyar’ika me. You should have told me.”

He should of. He knew how much you had lost. He knew your family had been ripped away from you and how hard it was for you to move on. And then he gave you a family. The kid and him were your new family. And you had dumbly let yourself fantasize about the future of your family. Of raising the kid with Din and maybe one day your relationship with Din would move further. You had let yourself do that, all without knowing that this family would be taken away from you too. And you were supposed to let it happen.

What Din was saying made sense. You knew the kid was powerful. You could feel it before you were made witness to his abilities. You knew it was why people wanted him, so they could exploit it. You thought that was the extent of it though. You didn’t think about how the kid would need training. You had let yourself get too caught up in your feelings and in your love for him to see past it, towards the kids future. 

“I know.”

“You kept that from me. You let me join you guys without warning me. You gave me a family... a family that’s got an expiration date on it.”

“What?”

“I have lost all my family, Din. I can’t do that again. You’ll find a Jedi and then the kid will be gone. And then I’ll be gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

You threw your hands up. “Din, the only reason I’m here is because the kid. Hell, the kid is the only reason you brought me on. Without him, you would of left me because you didn’t want me.” You feel your voice crack with the last sentence. You were distraught and angry and these emotions were wrecking havoc on you.

“That’s not true. All I want is-”

“No, it is.” You interrupted. “If the kid hadn’t liked me and wanted me to come, I wouldn’t have. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone.” 

A silence fell over the cockpit, a tension so palpable that you swore you could cut into it. You hated this. You hated what you were feeling and you hated arguing with Din and you hated that you knew you were going to lose him. Part of you wished you were still naive, that you could of been allowed to think your silly little thoughts about family.

“I don’t want you to go. Please.”

You winced at the way Din spoke. It was raw and you swore you could feel the pain. But you just turned away. “I can’t do this again.”

“I lost my family too. I understand this.”

And maybe that was true. But you don’t think he would ever understand the guilt settling into the pit of your stomach. The kid needed a Jedi, someone who understood the Force and could train him. He needed a master, someone so exceptional because the kid’s connection with the Force was strong, making his powers even stronger. 

You were once trained. Your grandmother had shown you how to use the Force, how to be one with it and allow it to flow within you. But that night, when you had lost your family and used your abilities to kill... it wasn’t the same. You no longer felt a healthy respect for the Force and felt wonder at the way you were able to use it. All you felt was fear of what you could become. So you abandoned it, tried your best to forget all of your training and vowed to never use it. A vow you had now kept for years. Now all your training might as well had been reversed. Even if you wanted to use it, you couldn’t train the kid. It took years for your grandmother to train you and in order to even begin to think about training the kid, you would need to retrain yourself, which you didn’t even think was possible. And even it was possible, the child was too powerful for you. You’d never be able to help him like a true Jedi Master would be able to.

And you felt at fault for that. If you were a better Jedi, a better teacher, a better person, you’d be able to do it. And you’d be able to keep the kid with you and Din. You wouldn’t have to hand him off to someone you didn’t know.

“You don’t understand.” You croaked out, wiping away all the tears. 

“Then tell me what I don’t understand.”

You remembered your mother’s words. Her preaching to you over and over again to never tell anyone what you were. You remembered your Grandmother ranting about the distain between Jedis and Mandalorians and how if a Mandalorian learned what you were, they’d hate you. And you could of seen Din looking past that, not being biased. But now if he learned what you were and how you couldn’t train the child and keep his kid with him, he’d hate you. And you wouldn’t blame him. So you couldn’t ever tell Din, could never reveal that part of yourself to him. You’d have to keep it hidden like you’d done your whole life.

“I need to be alone.” You turned to the ladder, slipping down it without giving Din a chance to stop you. You marched over to where the kid slept, opening the door and finding him peacefully asleep, huddled with a blanket in his hammock. He was blissfully unaware of the way you were failing him and of the turmoil going on in your mind. You felt more tears fall down, your hand reaching out to grab his little hand.

You had gotten too close to him and Din. But you knew if you stayed, you’d only get closer. The child needed help. And Din was so intoxicating. You couldn’t distance yourself from either of them.

Unless you left.

_________________________________

Din found her sitting in the same field of flowers from yesterday, hugging her knees to her chest and staring into the sunrise. It was early morning and there was a crispness to the cool morning air. Even with the helmet on, Din could smell the sweetness of the flora. If the situation were different, Din would love to sit out here with her like they had done last night. But things were hard right now.

He hadn’t slept at all. He had just sat in the cockpit, staring out the window and reflecting on just how badly he had messed up. He knew he messed up, really bad. He knew it when he realized he had never told her about his quest. But he didn’t think he truly understood just how much it would have impacted her until she looked at him with those eyes. They were so full of hurt and betrayal, and Din hated that he was the one to cause it. That was when Din realized how much deeper this went for her. And he knew there was something she hadn’t told him. Something that was eating away at her, at his cyar’ika. And he wanted to know what it was so badly, but he also wanted to respect her boundaries like she had done for him time and time again.

Din stepped towards her, lowering himself down to sit besides her. She didn’t turn to look at him, her steady gaze remaining on the array of colors illuminating the sky as the sun rose. 

“I’m sorry.” Din’s heart broke at the apology she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She had nothing to be sorry about. Everything that had happened was his fault. He should of told her about the kid as soon as he agreed to let her on and especially once they started getting so close. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Din sighed, laying his hands down on each side of his body, clutching onto the ground like it was an anchor. “I should of told you.”

She nodded her head, finally looking over at him. He could see the fatigue on her face but in this light, she still looked so beautiful. It shocked Din how someone could so consistently take his breath away. “I understand it is hard for you too.”

That was definitely true. Din hadn’t had a family in so long. And now that he did, he was so scared of losing it but it also felt like a definitive. The kid had to be trained and it tore away at Din, but he couldn’t do it. The child needed someone who knew how to help him and Din knew it should be sooner rather than later. Perhaps that was why he never referred to the kid as his son and always kept this small barrier up. Because Din knew if he fully let the kid into his heart, he would break once he had to let him go. And perhaps that was the pain every parent had to endure but he couldn’t accept it. He had already lost too much.

And her words still echoed in his mind. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone. Is that what she wanted? Or did she truly not realize how much he cared for her? Because Din heard that and felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Unlike the child, Din allowed himself to get closer to her than any other person in the galaxy. Perhaps it was naive, but he thought once the kid was gone, he would still have her. That she would want to stay with him. That she would be by his side in whatever came next. “Sweet one.”

She closed her eyes for a minute at the nickname and Din brought a gloved hand up to her face, just barely brushing her cheek but he felt her lean into it. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and tell her just how much he cared for her. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and he felt himself choke up as she opened her eyes, looking straight at him. “I can’t lose you, cyar’ika.”

Her eyes softened and she nodded slowly. “I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t. Even when the child is gone... you can stay. I want you to stay.” 

“Yeah?”

Din’s heart clench at her need for reassurance. He hadn’t even realized how reliant he was on her until the thought of her leaving scared him to death. He swore he needed her more than he needed air. “Yes.”

She reached her hand up, holding onto the one that touched her face. Din brought it away from her, feeling her twist her fingers within his. “Okay.”

Din let out a deep breathe, feeling whole again as she leaned her forehead against his helmet. She closed her eyes and Din brought his other hand to hers, linking his fingers with hers so both of his hands were full. This is where he belonged: with her. Wherever she was was his home. 

He felt the words on the tip of his tongue. But those three words had the power to change so much and he had already felt like he was so close to losing her. He couldn’t risk it.

Perhaps another time, he could tell her how much he loved her.

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy​ @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow​ @fangirlalexia​

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine

[eiressofinspirationwrites]

Revelation

Din Djarin x Reader

TW: Some description of blood and significant injury to reader.

Description: When something goes wrong on a mission, you and Din are forced to stand and fight. Then, Din is forced to reconsider some things and makes a major revelation to you.

********************

When the body of the last Corellian pirate hit the ground, you and the Mandalorian were standing back to back. The two of you had assumed that position to cover each other's backs as you fought off the band of pirates. Din knew you could handle yourself in a fight so he'd focused on his half of the pirates. He'd curse himself later for not paying better attention to your fight.

For a few minutes the only sounds that could be heard was the labored breathing of you and the Mandalorian exhausted after your ordeal. Then your voice broke the silence.

"Din," You gasped.

The Mandalorian knew something was horribly wrong before he even turned around.

You never used his given name like that when you were out in the open. His name was something you reserved for quiet, tender moments in the Razor Crest.

When he turned you were already facing him but you were looking down. Your face was creased with confusion as you processed the blood painting your shirt and hands.

Your blood Din realized.

"I didn't even-" your sentence was cut off when your knees gave out as the adrenaline ebbed away.

Din shot forward faster than anyone should have been able to move in so much armor. His hands caught you before you hit the ground but the sudden stop elicited a small cry from your lips.

"I've got you, cyar'ika," Din gently promised as he eased you down.

He wasted no time tearing off his cape. He balled it up and placed it underneath your head to cushion it against the forest floor.

"Din," your voice cracked, "I'm scared."

Din did his best to mask his own fear to keep you calm but truth be told he was terrified. You'd never been hurt on his watch like this before.

"Everything is going to be okay," he promised as stoically as he could manage.

"I'm sor-" you were cut off by the shout of pain that Din elicited from you as he applied pressure to your wound.

"I know it hurts," Din empathized, "but we have to slow the bleeding. All of our medical supplies are back at the ship."

"Din," you whimpered, after he used his comm to contact Cara for help, "I don't think I'm going to make it. There's too much blood."

"Don't say that," Din growled, but under the helmet there were tears starting to form and he was thankful his helmet was there to hide them, "You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you weren't and..."

"I love you, too, Din," your hand shook as you reached up underneath the helmet to press your palm against his cheek.

"Don't-" he pled, as he leaned into your touch, "Don't you dare say goodbye."

"I'm sorry," you apologized through your own tears, "I'm so sorry."

"You've got nothing to apologizs for, cyar'ika," Din assured you, "but I need you to hold on just a bit longer, okay? Cara will be here any second and she will be able to help us fix this."

"Din," your voice cracked and your breathing continued to shallow, "I'm going to die."

"No. No, you're not," Din ordered, "You are going to be fine."

"Take care of the kid," You said, "Most importantly take care of yourself too. Promise me."

"Please, stop," this time it was Din's turn for his voice to crack, "You're going to be okay and we are going to take care of the kid together."

"Promise me," your voice became sharper for just a moment, "Please."

Din could see it in your eyes, you were truly terrified. He had never seen you so scared in all the time he'd known you.

So, he took a steadying breath and said, "I promise. We'll be okay."

Relief visibly washed over you, "I love you so much, Din."

You started to say something else but it was like a switch was flipped. Your body just seemed to give up. The last thing you heard as your eyes slid shut was Din calling your name. Desperately trying to keep you with him as everything grew dark.

********************

It was dim when you opened your eyes. At first you thought you were in some kind of afterlife but then you realized that you were in fact in a bed and someone was in the chair beside that bed. They were obviously asleep by the way their chin was tucked against their chest.

It took you several more moments before you registered who it had to be sleeping in that chair. Despite the dim lighting in the room, you easily recognized the silhouette of Din's armor but something was off. Literally.

In the next moment you realized that Din's helmet had been removed and was sitting on the bedside table.

You let out an involuntary gasp that jarred Din awake.

"What's wrong?" He asked with intense concern as he sat forward.

"Y-your helmet," you had already screwed your eyes shut, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to look. I didn't realize when I woke up."

You heard Din let out a soft chuckle, "Cyar'ika, it's okay."

"Your creed-," you started to protest but Din cut you off.

"Some things are more important," his voice was soft as he took your hand in his and squeezed it gently after pressing a kiss to it, "This whole thing made me realize how little time we have and that time can be taken away at any moment. I don't want to end up in a situation like that again and have one of us die without me being able to share all of myself with you. You've already given all of yourself to me. Let me give all of myself to you, cyar'ika. So, please open your eyes for me."

You took a breath before you opened your eyes as Din had asked but it didn't do much good since seeing your beloved's face for the first time took it away in a heartbeat.

You'd dreamed about this moment for so long but had truthfully never expected it to come. Now that it was, you were so totally overwhelmed that you started to cry.

"What's wrong?" You could hear the panic in Din's voice and could tell this wasn't how he expected this to go.

"I'm sorry, my love," you apologized, "I've just dreamed of this for so long and you're just even more perfect than I imagined."

"I could never measure up to you, mesh'la," a small smile graced his lips as Din shook his head lightly.

"We'll just have to agree to disagree," you smiled and then laughed a bit.

"What?" Din asked.

"Karga owes me 100 credits," you smirked.

"Do I even want to know for what?" Din sighed.

"He thought your eyes would be green," you explained, "I just knew they had to be brown and I was right."

Din shook his head but he was smiling anyway, "You're impossible."

"That's why you love me," you laughed.

"One of the many reasons I love you," he said before he leaned in for a tender kiss.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #tw blood #tw reader injury

[rexsjaigeyes]

congrats on the milestone🎉🎉🎉 I woke up feeling angsty so.... 18 with Boba if u want!👉👈💞💞

Thank you! I know this is really late, but hopefully you still want that angst!

Prompt #18 by @starrynightdeancas: “I don’t trust you anymore.”

Boba Fett x gender neutral reader

Words: 1.3k (I am so sorry lmao it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: so much angst, semi-unhappy ending

A/N: Think of this as an alternate version of Rekindle. Not necessary to read it before reading this, but def has a similar plot so it might sound familiar to some.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You should have known that the whispers of his name within Tatooine wouldn’t have been for nothing, but you were not prepared to come face-to-face with Boba Fett. To others, he was purely a fearsome bounty hunter and now practically royalty. But to you, he was a ghost from your past — your thought-to-be-dead lover and a former partner whom you trusted with your life.

You knew it was selfish to think about the meaning behind him keeping such a secret from you, but you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to wrong him so much that he never told you he was alive. Was your whole relationship a lie? The relationship on which you had built years of trust suddenly vanished as soon as you set your eyes on his freshly-painted armor. Bile rose to your throat as you locked eyes with the green helmet across the throne room.

You felt like you were frozen in place, your feet staying rooted to your spot in the corner of the crowded room. He held your gaze for far too long, and every second that passed made you feel smaller and smaller under his unwavering gaze. A woman approached you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed her if she hadn’t stopped right in front of your line of sight. You almost jumped back, so unaware of your surroundings that you hadn’t even heard the woman sneak up on you.

She regarded you with a stoic expression, only sparing a quick inquisitive glance over your body before nodding over her shoulder and demanding, “Follow me.”

You knew she was taking you to Boba, and as much as it scared you to finally confront him, you felt more intimidated by the woman in front of you, so you wordlessly did as she said. She weaved through the crowd, expecting you to be a few steps behind her without sparing a glance over her shoulder to check. If you weren’t shaking from nerves, you would have been in awe of the intricate palace as she led you down a hallway to a small room isolated from the noise of the throne room.

She told you to wait there, but you felt like jumping out a window if it meant you could escape this poorly-planned attempt to gain closure from your old lover. It was too late for you to berate yourself any further because the door slid open, and you inhaled sharply as Boba entered the room. And just like that, you already felt your resolve slipping. He looked as large and imposing as ever, but you knew that beneath all the armor, there must have been at least some of the man you grew to love all those years ago.

He approached you slowly before carefully lifting a hand to your cheek. You didn’t mean to wrench your head away, but your body moved of its own accord, and you were shocked to feel wetness on your cheeks as you looked away from him. He didn’t move or say a word, and you knew he’d stay like that forever if you didn’t make the first move. So with angry tears streaming down your face, you said what had been on your mind since the moment you heard he was alive.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Boba?”

His silence felt deafening, and it only made you angrier. You looked up from the ground, once again locking eyes on that damn helmet that you hated at this moment. He didn’t even have the decency to show you his face — the face you had memorized and longed to see again. It seemed like everything he had once trusted you with was now gone, and it hurt far too much to see how distant he was with you. Despising the silence, you decided to take advantage of it and let the bubble of emotions within your chest finally burst.

“I thought you were dead,” you spat with narrowed eyes. You wished you could gauge his emotions, but it was always so hard with the helmet on. He stood still while you continued, “I mourned you, Boba. Do you understand that I thought you were gone this whole time? For 5 years...”

He still remained silent, and your eyes searched his visor for any sign that he even acknowledged the weight of what you said. Scoffing, you decided this was a waste of time if he didn’t even want to answer you. You made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Wait,” he said softly, and you almost cried again just from hearing that voice that you hadn’t heard in so long. “Let me explain.”

You turned, desperately trying not to lean back into his embrace once his hand left your wrist. A beat of silence passed, and you felt your patience wear thin. Boba stuttered as he tried to explain himself — something you hadn’t expected from someone like him. But as he tripped over his words, you deciphered what he was ultimately trying to say.

He never found you because he had other things he had to take care of. You understood what he was trying to say, and you empathized with everything he had gone through on his own. But it hurt that he thought he couldn’t reach out to you for help. And the worst part was that you were all alone for the past 5 years, when you could have been with the most important person in your life instead.

“I could have helped you,” you whispered, feeling more tears well in your eyes. “You didn’t have to go through that alone. And you have no idea what I went through on my own too, Boba. I had no one else but you.”

But he already knew that last bit. That’s what stung the most. He knew everything about your past and that you were all alone in such a large galaxy. You had all but pledged your allegiance to him so many years ago, promising to stay by his side no matter what. And you thought he meant it when he promised the same thing too, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Was it all just a lie?

You could have sworn you heard a soft whisper of an apology before Boba reached out for you again. You let him hold your face this time, but you couldn’t bear to look at him while your tears stained your cheeks.

“I’m here now, cyare.” His thumb brushed away one of your tears, but you cringed at the familiar Mando’a nickname he had given you so long ago. “You can join me here, at the palace,” he offered.

You had half a mind to take him up on that offer. But you knew that the hurt you still felt would only fester into more distrust for Boba. You needed time, and you needed to know he wouldn’t leave you again.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head and pulled away from him, your heart lurching in your throat as you tried to say the words you wish you didn’t have to say. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. I– I need time.” You turned your back on him, unable to look at him, even with his face covered by the helmet. “Goodbye, Boba,” you murmured over your shoulder, trying to keep more tears at bay with a shuddering breath.

You weren’t sure how much time you’d need, but you hoped that one day, you’d be able to return to the palace and join Boba’s side. And until that day comes, maybe you could finally learn to live on your own, without relying on a ghost from your past.

-----------

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#i am SO sorry for how poorly written this is #Idk why this prompt was so hard for me #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x y/n #boba fett x you #boba fett x gender neutral reader #divswrites #1.7k follower celebration

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 5

Chapter Five: Closing In

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, One Bed Trope, Awkward, Plot Holes

Word Count: 10k

A/N: I swear I don’t mean to take months to update! I get sidetracked so often by random things and other obsessions. I’m at a point with this story where I get lost with the timeline so then I have to reread what I wrote (try not to cringe at my writing) and then continue on writing the next chapter. Usually, I’m very organized with my outline so I don’t lose track of where I am plot-wise, but Star Wars is— it truly is something else. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re one step closer to the season finale. Love you guys :>

Song: De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – EVENING

It had become apparent to you that Din was touch-starved, even though he never openly admitted it. You could trace the progression of his need for physical contact, starting with subtle gestures like a comforting touch on your elbow or a gentle squeeze of your hand in public. These small interactions held unspoken messages of affection, revealing a side of Din that he rarely showed to the world.

His tactile expressions of intimacy grew more pronounced over time. Your heart skipped a beat the first time he cupped your face, his gloved hand warm against your cheek. The tenderness of that touch spoke volumes, carrying a depth of emotion that words couldn't quite capture. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that you were not alone in this unpredictable universe.

One memory stood out vividly: a day when the three of you found yourselves in a cantina on an outer rim planet. The credits Din had earned were put to practical use, securing supplies and a decent meal for all of you. While Din went to order drinks, you focused on the child, ensuring he was comfortable and fed.

Amid your care-taking, an unfamiliar man appeared, his presence casting a shadow over your booth. You regarded him with skepticism, raising an eyebrow as his words dripped with overconfidence.

"Can I help you with something?" you responded, your tone laced with a mix of caution and annoyance. The stranger's attempt at flirtation was as transparent as the space beyond the cantina's windows.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?" he purred, his words dripping with unmistakable intent.

Suppressing an inward sigh at the sheer predictability of his approach, you let a subtle, sarcastic smile curve your lips. The galaxy had taught you to navigate these situations with a mix of wits and composure.

As the child cooed beside you, curiosity evident in his innocent eyes, you shifted your gaze back to the stranger, his overconfident demeanor oozing from every pore. Your reply was measured, tinged with a hint of dry amusement, "Clearly, I'm not alone and occupied, so if you could leave, please."

Undeterred, the stranger continued with his advances. "C'mon, baby, don't be such a priss. I'll show you a good time."

You were on the cusp of rising from your seat, ready to firmly reiterate your point when a sudden shift in the atmosphere seized the cantina's attention. It was as if the air had changed, thickened by an invisible tension. The chattering voices seemed to hush instinctively.

Amid the palpable silence, Din materialized like an imposing guardian. His presence radiated authority and raw power, his Mandalorian armor reflecting the ambient light, turning him into an almost mythical figure. His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and unyielding, "She said leave."

The room held its collective breath as the stranger's bluster crumbled in the face of Din's command. The confrontation became a silent battle of wills, one that spoke volumes without the need for further words. The stranger's retreat marked a victory for the indomitable force that Din embodied, leaving the cantina in stunned silence.

Your gaze shifted from the defeated stranger to Din, who stood there with an intensity that both reassured and electrified the room. His unspoken declaration of protection wasn't lost on you, a testament to the bond forged through shared trials and unspoken connections.

And then, with a swift shift, Din's demeanor transformed. His grip on patience loosened, and his actions spoke volumes where words had been unnecessary. In a heartbeat, he had seized the offender, the loud crack of bone echoing through the hushed cantina as the stranger's resistance was brutally halted.

Your breath caught, a sharp inhale of surprise and a hint of awe, as the resounding crack of bone filled the air. It was a stark punctuation to Din's swift and decisive intervention, a thunderous echo of authority that cut through the cantina's previous cacophony. The clatter of utensils and the discordant symphony of bowls added to the jarring chorus, a testimony to the power that had just been unleashed.

The stranger, once so assertive, now resembled a scurrying insect, his escape marked by a trail of spilled drinks and overturned stools. He disappeared into the crowded haze of the cantina, no longer a contender in this silent duel.

Throughout this confrontation, Din's gaze remained unyielding, a force of nature that had momentarily swept the establishment into a hushed reverence. As the patrons bore witness to the unassailable might he wielded, their earlier bravado had crumbled into hushed awe.

With the situation resolved, Din's attention shifted back to you, and that deep, unspoken connection that had been nurtured through shared challenges seemed to shimmer in the charged atmosphere. His gloved hand gently found yours, prompting you to rise from your booth. You cradled the child securely in your arms, his innocent eyes bearing witness to this display of protective strength.

“I could have handled it,” you spoke, your voice soft and understanding, and Din nodded, a faint hint of gratitude in his voice. “I know.”

A beat passed between you, the atmosphere laden with unspoken words. Then, Din continued, his words tinged with vulnerability, "I could not just stand there and do nothing," he said, “I would... the things I would do to ensure you and the child are safe.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the weight of his unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a promise forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. A vow to protect and cherish, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of the galaxy.

You blinked, your gaze filled with understanding and affection. With a gentle hand, you reached out, placing it over his heart, and whispered, "I know. I would too."

To your surprise, he was the first one to initiate the hug. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you into an embrace that felt surprisingly warm beneath the cool, unyielding exterior of his beskar armor. You still held the child in your arms, creating an intimate tableau of unity. Surprisingly, the hard plate of his chest was comforting, the armor a symbol of his steadfast protection. In his embrace, you felt safe, secure, and trusted, as if nothing in the galaxy could harm you as long as you were in his arms.

Maybe that's why you two ended up where you are now. In the passing days and nights, your connection deepened, communicated through silent reassurances by the simple touch of an elbow or the light squeeze of his gloved hand. Din seemed to always find a reason to be near you, seeking excuses to touch and hold you, even if only for a brief moment.

There were times when you would prepare food for the three of you, and Din would just watch from a few steps away. Despite the helmet, you could feel his gaze as he observed you move around the small workspace, heating the food. You would glance over your shoulder to smile at him, and his heart would flutter wildly.

In those moments, you could see the shimmering outline of his silver aura mixing with shades of reds and maroons, a silent testament to the emotions he kept hidden behind the beskar helmet. 

The nights in the cramped bunk leave you no room to move, but you find it surprisingly comfortable, curled up together. The baby sleeps soundly in his hammock nearby, his tiny breaths filling the small space with a sense of peace.

During those nights, Din often surprises you with unspoken acts of service. He'll quietly slip out of bed, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, and return with a cup of hot caf. He never says a word, but the gesture speaks volumes, warming not just your body but your heart as well.

Sometimes, he'll softly hum a lullaby, a hauntingly beautiful tune that you've never heard before. The melody dances in the air, soothing both you and the baby, creating a bond that goes beyond words between the three of you.

As you lie there, nestled in his arms, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you've found something exceptional in the vast, unforgiving galaxy.

The peace the three of you had found seemed almost too good to be true. It was a fragile tranquility in a galaxy filled with chaos, and you knew deep down that it wouldn't last long. Still, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a small sanctuary for yourselves.

But as you entered the flight deck one day and saw the look on Din's face, you knew that the serenity was about to be shattered. Concern etched your features as you asked, "What's wrong?"

Din didn't immediately reply. Instead, he pressed a button, and a flickering hologram message of Greef Karga materialized before you. His gravelly voice filled the cockpit, delivering a message that sent a chill down your spine.

"My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive," Greef Karga's hologram began. "You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, and you exchanged a knowing glance with Din. It seemed that your past had come back to haunt you again, and the peace you had briefly tasted was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand from Tatooine.

Greef Karga's hologram continued to flicker as he outlined the dire situation on Nevarro. His gravelly voice held a tone of urgency as he explained, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize."

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you and Din. It was clear that this was no ordinary mission; it was a perilous gambit that carried immense risks. Karga's proposal hung in the air, the unspoken words echoing loudly in the confined space of the Razor Crest.

"So, here is my proposition," Karga continued. "Return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange, and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism."

The concern in your eyes didn't escape Din's notice as you voiced your doubts. "This has to be a trap, Din," you asserted, your voice tinged with worry.

Din nodded in agreement, his thoughts mirroring yours. "Possibly."

A small, determined smile graced your lips as you continued, "We're gonna need help... from our friends."

As you glanced at the sleeping Child, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of you. It was a decision that would determine the course of your future and the safety of the innocent life in your care.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Din made his decision clear. Without uttering a word, he steered the Razor Crest toward the coordinates Greef Karga had provided, the ship leaping into hyperspace. The die was cast, and a treacherous path lay ahead, but the bond between you and Din, and the allies you had made along the way, offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

SORGAN, 9ABY – DAY

The Razor Crest soared over the lush tree canopy of Sorgan, its engines humming like a contented beast. As the forest gave way to an open area, Din carefully brought the ship down, landing with the grace of a seasoned pilot.

Exiting the ship, you and Din followed a worn path that led to a common house in the distance. The atmosphere was different here, far removed from the cold metal of your ship. It was a place where the rustic charm of Sorgan had found a home.

Inside the common house, the commotion caught your attention. A sizable crowd had gathered, their voices mixing with the clatter of glasses and the low hum of conversation. At the center of the room, a makeshift boxing ring had been set up.

You and Din approached the ring just as Cara Dune, faced off against a male Zabrak fighter. Cara’s movements were swift and calculated, her strikes a testament to her combat prowess. The Zabrak, equally skilled, proved to be a formidable opponent. Each of them tethered to a laser that crackled with energy. The makeshift boxing ring suddenly felt smaller, the tension palpable as the combatants engaged in a fierce battle.

As the bout reached its climax, Cara executed a flawless maneuver, pulling the Zabrak in with the tether that connected them. The Zabrak, caught off guard by her sudden tactic, found himself unable to escape her grasp.

With a swift and decisive motion, Cara forced the Zabrak to tap out, his admission of defeat ringing through the air as the laser tether fizzled out between them.

Cara's triumphant grin illuminated her features as she basked in the adulation of the crowd, her chest heaving with exertion from the intense match. With a playful twinkle in her eye, she extended a victorious finger, punctuating her declaration to the assembled spectators.

"Pay up, mudscuffers! Come on. That's mine, thank you. All right, thank you," Cara exclaimed, her voice carrying over the din of the cheering crowd. In response, several patrons begrudgingly reached into their pockets, producing credits to settle their wagers.

You, Din, and the Child entered Cara's line of sight, drawing her attention away from the crowd. Din's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the noise of the common house as he addressed her directly.

"Looking for some work?" Din inquired as he broached the subject with Cara and you all decided to take a seat and have a drink as you discussed the situation.

"It's a straightforward operation," Din elucidated to Cara, his voice low and measured. Leaning forward, he rested his left forearm on the table, his gaze unwavering as he outlined the details. “They're providing the plan and firepower. I'm the snare.” Meanwhile, you tended to the Child who fussed beside you, keeping one eye on the conversation.

"With the kid? And her?" Cara inquires, casting a glance your way.

"That's why we're reaching out to you," you respond softly, meeting Cara's gaze.

Cara sighs, weighing the risks. "I don't know. I've been advised to keep a low profile. If anyone runs my chain code, I'll be in a cell for life."

"I thought you were a veteran," Din remarks, his silver helmet catching the light as he speaks. The defeated Zabrak fighter drops a credit on the table and nods at Cara, who offers a smile. "Come back soon," she calls after him.

"I've been a lot of things since. Most of them come with a life sentence," Cara explains, her expression serious. "If I so much as board a ship registered to the New Republic, I'm—"

"We have a ship," Din interjects, his voice firm. "I can take you there and back, and there'll be a handsome reward waiting. You can live free of worry."

"I'm already free of worry, and I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore," Cara says, taking a sip from her cup. "Especially not for some local warlord."

"He's not a local warlord," Din interjects, his voice low and with a growl. You finish the statement, your tone was distant, eyes glazed. "He's Imperial."

Cara takes a deep breath and offers a small smile as she nods. "I'm in."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

"Does your contact need to vet me?" Cara leans against the side of the cockpit panel, her arms crossed. Din shakes his head. "Doesn't know you're coming."

Cara raises an eyebrow. "Really? That could be a problem."

"It won't. But if it is, that's his problem." Din shrugs before exiting the cockpit. You give the Child a gentle pat as he sits beside you, then follow Din down the ladder and to the weapons locker with Cara.

"Is he alright up there alone?" Cara asks, nodding towards the cockpit. 

Din nods. "Yeah." He opens the locker, the doors hissing as they slide apart. Gesturing to the array of weapons, he adds, "Pick one."

"Do you trust the contact?" Cara inquires, brows raised as she sifts through the locker's contents, a grin playing on her lips.

Din lets out a sigh. "Not particularly," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of wariness. "He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business."

"So then why are we going?" Cara questions, her tone laced with curiosity as she glances over at Din.

"I don't have a choice," Din responds, his voice carrying a weight of resignation. He pauses, then reaches out to pull you closer to his side, anchoring you against him as he leans against the ship's panel. "You saw what happened on Sorgan. They'll keep sending hunters," he continues, his gaze steady. "The kid and her... they'll never be safe until the Imp is dead."

"And you're okay with bringing them back there?" Cara asks skeptically, a hint of concern coloring her tone. You frown slightly, your expression conveying a sense of determination as you respond, "I can take care of myself."

"What about the kid? We need someone to watch that thing," Cara remarks, gesturing towards the Child above in the cockpit. Din nods in agreement, acknowledging the need for a trustworthy guardian. "Yeah."

"You got anyone you can trust?" Cara inquires further, her gaze shifting between you and Din.

You feel Din's thumb brush over the exposed part of your hip, a comforting gesture that sends a subtle warmth rippling through your body. He hums softly, his presence enveloping you in shades of silver and grey, a reassuring aura amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

Suddenly, the ship begins to rumble, Cara stumbles, her hands reaching out to brace herself against the wall. Meanwhile, Din swiftly pulls you closer to his body, a protective instinct evident in his actions. With a gruff huff, he releases you and heads back up the ladder.

You and Cara follow Din up the ladder, only to find the Child meddling with the controls, causing the ship to thrash and rumble. Din takes charge, settling into the pilot's seat to stabilize the Razor Crest once more.

"We really need someone to watch over him," you remark, holding the Child securely in your arms while Din nods and agrees, “Yeah.”

MOISTURE FARM, ARVALA-7 — SUNSET

The Razor Crest settles on the desolate planet of Arvala-7, its rocky surface bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. As the ramp lowers, you step out alongside Din and Cara, the hovering pram carrying the Child trailing close behind.

Your eyes fall on the Ugnaught Din mentioned, a figure named Kuiil, who greets you warmly as you make your way to his home. With a nod, you duck your head to enter the tunnel-shaped structure, eager to get to know Kuiil.

"It hasn't grown much," Kuiil remarks, his eyes fixated on the Child.

Din nods in agreement. "I think it might be a Strand-Cast."

Kuiil shakes his head slowly. "I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly."

"I had a dream recently," you begin, your voice soft but earnest. "A creature like him named Yoda appeared to me… this little one is likely to be one of his kind."

Din listens intently, his gaze underneath his helmet fixed on you as you speak.

"It’s why I followed you, at first," you continue, turning to face him. "Because the last time the Empire had Force Sensitive children…" You trail off, overcome with emotion. "I just couldn’t leave him there."

Din's gauntleted hand gently clasps yours, emanating a comforting warmth that sends a tender sensation coursing through your veins. You feel a soft flush rise to your cheeks as you meet his gaze, the visor of his helmet lending an air of mystery to his expression.

Kuiil clears his throat, his gaze shifting between you and Din. "You and Din make a formidable pair," he says with a nod, his tone carrying a note of respect. "A union like yours brings strength and unity in uncertain times."

A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily. However, Din's firm grip on your waist draws you closer to where you sat, anchoring you in his reassuring presence.

Meanwhile, Kuiil turns to Cara with a playful glint in his eye. "This one, on the other hand," he remarks, "looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

You gesture toward Cara with a smile, introducing her to Kuiil. Cara responds with a nod, her own smile reflecting the camaraderie in the room.

Kuiil's eyes settle on Cara's arm, where the telltale tattoo of a Dropper catches his attention. "You were a Dropper," he observes, prompting Cara to raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Did you serve?" she inquires the Ugnaught.

Kuiil settles onto a stool, his expression taking on a thoughtful cast. "On the other side, I'm afraid," he admits. "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt, and now I serve no one but myself."

As Kuiil speaks, the room is suddenly interrupted by the mechanical steps of an approaching figure. You glance toward the entrance and see an IG-11 droid entering, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Instantly, both Din and Cara spring to their feet, blasters are drawn, their defensive instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, you remain seated, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on your face.

The IG-11 droid, its metallic voice crisp and clear, breaks the tension with an unexpected offer. "Would anyone care for some tea?"

Kuiil, ever composed, raises a calming hand towards Din and Cara. "Please lower your blasters," he urges, his voice steady and assured. "He will not harm you."

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Din asserts, his voice tinged with anger as he keeps his blaster trained on the IG unit.

Kuiil interjects calmly as IG-11 places the tray on the table in front of you, "Not anymore. It was left behind in the wake of your destruction.”

“I found it laying where it fell. Devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remained of its neural harness.” Kuiil recounted to you and you listened intently.

"Reconstruction was quite the challenge, but not impossible," Kuiil reflects, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It had to learn everything anew. This is not a task for mere machinery. It demands patience and repetition. Day after day, I nurtured its growth with care and affirmation. And as its experiences expanded, so did its personality."

Din remains skeptical, his tone betraying his doubt as he inquires, "Is it still a hunter?"

"No," Kuiil replies firmly, "but it will defend."

As the IG-11 droid offers, “Tea?” Cara grabs the cup and takes a sip while you exchange glances with Kuiil, sensing the sincerity in his words reflected in the warm hues of the sunset. With a reassuring touch, you rise from your seat and place a hand on Din's outstretched arm, gently guiding down the blaster. "He speaks the truth," you affirm softly. "It’s okay. We’re okay."

Reluctantly, Din secures his blaster back into its holster, his tension easing slightly as he acknowledges the reassurance in your words.

"I've encountered some difficulties," Din admits as he approaches Kuiil, who is tending to the Blurrg.

Kuiil emits a thoughtful hum. "Seems like you've been managing quite well. Especially with her support," he remarks, nodding in your direction. You're engrossed in play with the Child, introducing the little one to the droid, while Cara observes with interest.

As Din watches you, bathed in the warm glow of the setting suns, he can't help but marvel at your radiance. Your smile outshines even the brightest stars in the galaxy. In that moment, he feels a profound sense of gratitude for having someone like you by his side.

A warm sensation stirs within Din as he watches you laugh at something the Child finds amusing. The primal urge to claim you as his own surges within him, an instinctual longing he struggles to suppress. Beneath his helmet, his jaw tightens as he fixates on you, momentarily lost in the intensity of his emotions. When you glance his way and offer a smile and a wave, his heart swells with longing, yearning for a world where he could have you all to himself, free from the burdens that weigh upon you both.

Swallowing hard, Din tears his gaze away, attempting to regain his composure. "That's not... that's not why we're here," he insists, his voice tinged with an edge of determination.

"I assumed as much. There must be another reason for your return," Kuiil observes with a knowing hum.

Din's voice carries a low, earnest tone as he addresses the Ugnaught. "I need your services."

"I'm retired from service," Kuiil responds, his voice measured.

Ignoring the subtle refusal, Din presses on, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. "I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught.”

The Ugnaught, displeased by Din's persistence, harumphs. "I have a name. It is Kuiil."

Din's gaze remains unwavering as he makes his request clear. "I require someone to protect the child, Kuiil."

Kuiil shakes his head, his resolve unwavering. "I am not suited for such work. I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol duties."

Din's voice grows firmer, his tone resolute. "No. I do not want that droid anywhere near him."

"Why are you so distrustful of droids?" Kuiil asks, his tone curious yet skeptical.

Din's response is matter-of-fact. "It tried to kill him."

Kuiil nods, understanding. "It was programmed to do so. Droids are not inherently good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them." He looks to Din, hoping to impart some sense to the Mandalorian.

Din's voice carries a distant gravity as he speaks with a serious tone. "I've seen otherwise."

"Do you trust me?" Kuiil's gravelly voice breaks the silence, his gaze steady on Din.

Din nods thoughtfully. "From what I can tell, yes."

"Then trust my work. IG-11 will join me," Kuiil asserts, his tone resolute. "And we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery."

A weight seems to settle on Din's shoulders as he exhales softly. Kuiil's continues, "None will be free until the old ways are gone forever."

Din takes a moment to consider, his mind churning with the implications. Finally, he meets Kuiil's gaze and nods. "Okay."

"The blurrgs?" Din queries, a hint of confusion in his voice as Kuiil starts to walk away.

Kuiil pauses, turning back to face Din. "And the blurrgs will join me as well," he affirms, his tone carrying a sense of finality.

Kuiil turns once more and continues on his way, leaving Din standing there with a contemplative expression. As he disappears from sight, his parting words linger. "I have spoken."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

After securing the blurrgs in the Razor Crest's cargo hold, Din takes control of the ship's controls, steering it towards Nevarro. With the ship set on autopilot, you and he descend the ladder into the cargo hold, where the Child sits in his hovering pram, eyes wide with curiosity as he emits a soft cooing sound.

As you assist Kuiil with feeding the blurrgs, your attention is drawn to the sounds of grunting nearby. Slowly turning, you find Cara and Din engaged in an arm wrestle, their muscles straining against each other in the dim light of the cargo hold. Despite the intense competition, they appear evenly matched.

As you observe Din's impressive display of strength, a flutter of excitement stirs within you, mingled with a hint of something more intimate. His determination and power are undeniably captivating, igniting a subtle thrill that courses through your veins.

"I got you, Mando," Cara declares with a huff, her voice laced with determination.

Din's response is confident as ever. "Care to double the bet?" he challenges, his voice resonating with a subtle intensity. You catch a glimpse of his gaze behind the visor, sensing his determination.

Intense heat rises to your cheeks at the sound of his gruff grunt, the raw energy of the moment heightening your anticipation. You’ve been buzzing with anticipation for weeks.

But the heat fizzes out as a moment of panic grips you as Cara struggles, her hand dropping abruptly from the arm wrestling match. It startles both you and Din, prompting him to rise to his feet with urgency.

As you rush over to the Child, you hear Din's firm voice addressing the little one. "No! No, no! Stop! We're friends, we're friends. Cara is my friend!" he asserts, his tone authoritative.

Stretching out your hand, you tap into the Force, attempting to gently ease the Child's grasp on Cara. Gradually, the tension dissipates, and you release your hold on the Force, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Eager breaths escape your lips, leaving you slightly winded from the unexpected exertion.

Cara gestures toward the Child and voices her concern, "That is not okay!"

"Hmm. Very curious," Kuiil remarks, his gaze shifting to you and the Child.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaims, her alarm evident.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense," Kuiil adds.

"Mudhorn?" You interject, your curiosity piqued. You glance over at Din, who has now moved closer to you, checking to ensure you're okay as you still catch your breath from the ordeal.

"What is it?" Din inquires Kuiil while keeping you close by his side.

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this… This I've heard rumors of," Kuiil replies.

Cara shoots the Ugnaught a skeptical glance. "What? When you worked for the Empire?"

Kuiil stands his ground, his tone resolute. "When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

"Yet somehow, you walk free," Cara retorts with a scoff, rising to her feet. But Kuiil remains unfazed. "I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon what I am nor whom I shall serve."

As the swirling colors of intense emotions overwhelm your senses, you feel a surge of turbulence within. It's a challenge to maintain composure, especially given your empathic abilities.

Sensing your discomfort, Din's demeanor softens, a rare glimpse of tenderness shining through. In a voice touched with kindness, he addresses Kuiil, "Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?"

Kuiil acknowledges the request with a nod, his expression solemn. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

With purposeful movements, Kuiil sets to work, the hum of machinery filling the space as sparks fly from the welding gun. Meanwhile, the Child observes with wide-eyed curiosity. Feeling Din's comforting touch on your lower back, he guides you back up the ladder toward the cockpit.

You move to take a seat on a nearby chair, but before you can settle, Din swiftly pivots from his pilot chair. His strong hands encircle your waist, pulling you onto his lap in a single fluid motion. You emit a surprised yelp as you find yourself seated sideways, legs draped over his, and your head nestled against the cool surface of his beskar pauldron. Instinctively, you loop your arms around his neck to maintain your balance.

"Din! Cara could walk in any second," you whisper urgently.

He responds with a nonchalant hum. "She won't mind."

"But—"

"You seemed winded earlier, using your..." Din's voice trails off as he adjusts a few controls, and you finish his thought, "The Force?"

"Yes," he confirms.

You release a sigh and reach up to lightly touch the side of his helmet, wishing you could see beyond the reflective visor. "Din, I'm alright. It just took me by surprise. Later, I'll speak with the kid about using the Force responsibly. It's something we need to ensure he understands."

As you utter the word "we," something ignites within Din's chest. The notion of you wanting to stand by his side, to be integrated into his clan, strengthens his need to claim you as his own, to initiate the formal courtship.

With a gentle movement, he leans his helmet closer, as he uses his left gloved hand to hold the back of your neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his. The warmth of your skin contrasts with the cool touch of his beskar armor. You instinctively close your eyes, sharing a moment akin to the gesture known as the keldabe kiss.

You emit a soft sound, unable to suppress it as you sense him gently squeeze the back of your neck, expressing his desire to draw nearer. Din gruffly murmurs, "Soon, Cyar'ika. Soon."

"You better be fully clothed in there, I'm coming in!" Cara's voice echoes through the ship before the doors hiss open and shut, signaling her entrance. She finds you still seated on Din's lap, a sheepish expression on your face.

Wide-eyed, you attempt to slide off Din's lap, but he pulls you closer in a tighter grip. Your embarrassment intensifies, your cheeks burning as Cara smirks at you. Wanting to hide, you bury your face between Din's neck and shoulder, the heat of the moment igniting a mix of desire and embarrassment throughout your body.

Cara meticulously cleans her blaster as she addresses both of you, "So, we're heading to Nevarro?"

Din, still seated with you on his lap, engages in the conversation, "Have you been there before?"

"No," Cara responds, settling into her seat with the blaster and a rag in hand. "We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war.”

Din nods in acknowledgment. "The warlord we're taking out was an Imperial officer.”

Cara's curiosity piques. "What station?"

Din turns his chair, keeping you snugly in his hold, as he explains, "Hard to tell. No insignia anymore.”

You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp once more, but his arm around your midsection keeps you firmly in place.

"We took out the safehouse when we snatched the kid." Din continues, his tone grave. "More Imps have reinforced since.” 

Apologies for the oversight. Here's the revised text, retaining the original dialogue:

"There's something more going on," Cara remarks as she begins to clean a different rifle.

"Maybe. We'll find out more when we land," Din replies, his gaze fixed on the controls.

The doors hiss open, and IG-11 steps inside, its robotic voice announcing, "I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?"

"I'm not hungry," Din says flatly.

The IG-11 leaves.

Cara's chuckle echoes lightly in the cockpit. "You got a real thing for droids, don't you?" she teases.

Din's voice remains monotone as he responds, his helmet reflecting the dim light. "I got a real thing for that droid."

"The Ugnaught said he rewired it," Cara mentions, her tone casual.

Din shakes his head, his expression hidden behind the helmet. "That droid was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature."

Cara's departing words linger in the air as she heads back down to the cargo hold, leaving you and Din alone once more.

A hushed quiet falls between you, the hum of the ship's engines filling the space. You break the silence, the words catching in your throat. "We need to get ready..."

Din's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "Just let me hold you a little longer, Cyar'ika," he murmurs, his tone laden with affection. You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you, and with a quiet nod, you reply, "Okay."

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DUSK

The Razor Crest descends into a desolate corner of Nevarro, the distant hum of its engines fading as it settles on the uneven terrain. Your pulse quickens, the rhythm echoing in your ears as you adjust the cloak robe to conceal your lightsaber, keeping it out of sight.

The four of you dismount the ship, perched atop blurrgs, and spot Greef Karga approaching, accompanied by three other bounty hunters including a human, Nikto, and a Trandoshan. He strides toward your party, a mix of urgency and caution in his steps. "Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando, but things have gotten complicated since you were last here,” he says, coming to a halt a few paces away.

As he surveys the group, Greef Karga remarks, "It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail," His gaze shifts to Cara. "I'd suggest the shock trooper stays back to guard the ship. These lava fields are swarming with Jawas."

"She's coming with us," you assert firmly.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up," Greef Karga argues, attempting to dissuade you.

"She's coming," Din insists.

Greef Karga grudgingly relents. "Fine," he seethes, then relents once more with a resigned sigh. "Fine." Gesturing to Cara, he adds, "Just cover your tattoo. No need to draw unnecessary attention."

"Now, where's the little one?" Karga inquires. Din activates a button on his bracer, causing the hovering pram to glide forward, its hatch hissing open. Greef Karga leans in to inspect the Child, drawing uneasy gazes from the group. Fingers hover near blasters as tension mounts, and you clench your jaw.

"So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about. What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head," Greef Karga remarks, lifting the Child briefly before returning it to the hovering pram. Din swiftly closes the hatch with another press of his bracer, bringing the pram back to his side.

As the group prepares to embark on their journey across the lava fields of Nevarro, Greef Karga lays out the plan. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all. The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light," he explains. You nod in agreement as your group rides the blurrgs, ready to traverse the treacherous terrain.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — EVENING

As the group settles in for the night, a campfire crackles, casting flickering light on the surrounding faces. You find a spot on the ground, seated cross-legged like the others. Positioned between Din and the Child, Kuiil patiently feeds the young one while you quietly finish your meal.

Across the fire, the three bounty hunters sit, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. With a keen sense, you observe them, your empathic force powers awakening to perceive shades of darkness and red, hinting at hidden motives and deceit.

As you unconsciously shift closer to Din, preparing to whisper your observations, Greef Karga's voice cuts through the quiet night. He gazes at the Child, remarking, "I guess the little bugger's a carnivore. Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie."

"Let's go over the plan again," Din interjects, brushing off Karga's comments.

“We three enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him,” Greef Karga explains matter-of-factly, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

Din quickly follows up, “Tell me about his reinforcements.”

“They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter,” Greef Karga replies nonchalantly.

“And what if they don't?” You press further.

“They will,” Greef Karga asserts confidently.

Din shakes his head, “That's not good enough.”

Greef Karga sighs heavily, “If, for argument's sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and your Jedi will cut down anyone who bucks.”

“I’m a medic, not a Jedi,” you mumble with a clenched jaw.

“How many will there be?” Din asks Greef Karga.

“No more than four,” Karga replies as he rises from his seated position, heading over to the large piece of meat roasting over the campfire. He reaches out to grab a piece, confidently stating, “He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me. Nothing can go wrong.”

However, his confidence is shattered as a large beast emerges from the darkness. It's a species of winged, predatory reptavians native to Nevarro. With a large wingspan, scaly and dry skin, and a dragon-like appearance, these reptavians have a pointed snout, a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and two brownish eyes.

One of the reptavians swoops down, sinking its teeth into Greef's arm, eliciting a pained grunt from him. Chaos erupts as blaster fire fills the air, echoing against the rocky terrain. Each member of the group takes aim, firing at the winged assailants with precision.

With swift movements, the Mandalorian secures the Child in his hovering pram, shielding the youngling from harm. Meanwhile, you ignite your lightsaber, its vibrant purple hue casting an eerie glow in the dim light. Swinging it fiercely, you fend off the winged creatures with determined strikes.

Amidst the commotion, a blurrg and a Trandoshan bounty hunter fall victim to the creatures' relentless onslaught. As one of the reptavians swoops down to snatch another blurrg, it meets its demise in a barrage of blaster fire, falling lifeless to the ground. Unfortunately, in the chaos, a blurrg is accidentally struck by friendly fire.

After the Mandalorian's flamethrower repels the winged creatures, a tense silence settles over the group, broken only by the occasional groan of pain from Greef Karga. As the dust settles and the smoke clears, everyone remains on edge, waiting to see if the creatures will return.

Moving swiftly, Kuiil rushes to Greef's side, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "He's hurt badly," Kuiil announces, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Ow!" Greef insists through gritted teeth, his bravado failing to mask his discomfort. You kneel beside him, your focus on assessing his injury. The deep bite mark left by the reptavians catches your attention, and you speak with authority, "Hold still."

"They got you good," you murmur, your focus still fixed on the deep wound.

"How bad, Cyar'ika?" Din's voice comes from behind you as you work.

"Bad. The poison's spreading fast," you reply, urgency lacing your tone as you inject Greef Karga with a pen, hoping it will slow the venom's progress.

"So this... This is how it happens," Greef Karga says between labored breaths.

Cara rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?" you urgently call out.

“Anyone? I'm guessing that's a ‘no’,” you say with a huff, frustration creeping into your voice. You glance back at his arm, noting the venom's continued spread. “It's still spreading. This isn't working.”

“Get this thing outta here,” Cara exclaims, prompting you to realize that the Child had approached unnoticed.

Observing the Child, Kuiil interjects, “Wait.”

The Child extends his tiny green hand and places it atop Greef Karga’s arm. With a wince, Karga cries out, “He's trying to eat me!”

You sense it too—the subtle hum of the Force emanating from the Child. With each focused use, the Child begins to harness his abilities, channeling them to gradually heal Greef Karga’s arm, leaving no trace of a scar. Witnessing such skill from one so young fills you with awe; Force Healing of this magnitude is exceedingly rare. A collective exhale fills the air, each member of the group seemingly sharing in the astonishment of witnessing such a miraculous feat.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

As the sun begins to ascend, casting a dim light across the rugged landscape, the group presses onward. Smoke billows from the small volcanic vents scattered throughout the rocky terrain of Nevarro. An uneasy silence envelops the group, with Greef Karga's companions forging ahead, leaving you, Din, Cara, and Kuiil to tread quietly behind on foot, the Ugnaught trailing along atop the last remaining blurrg.

Cara speaks softly, directing her question to both you and Din. "You think they're having second thoughts?"

Din responds in a hushed tone, his voice barely audible. "Could be. I need your eyes."

"I'm watching," Cara confirms with a nod.

An hour later, your group arrives at the outskirts of Nevarro, with Greef Karga leading the way and you, Din, and Cara close behind. "I guess this is it," Greef Karga remarks, gazing out at the view. But something tugs at your gut, a feeling that something isn't right.

Before you can react, Greef abruptly turns around and fires at his associates, sending them collapsing lifeless to the ground. The sudden violence startles you, Din, and Cara. They swiftly unholster their blasters, aiming them at Greef Karga, while you grasp your saber hilt, activating it in readiness to deflect any blaster fire.

Din and Cara keep their blasters trained on Greef Karga, who raises his hands in surrender. "There's something you should know," he confesses as he ensures that both the bounty hunters are truly dead and kicks away their blasters. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it."

Your brow furrows as you listen to Karga's plea. "Go on," he continues, "You can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

Cara grits her teeth and shoots Karga a scowl. "We'll take our chances," she asserts firmly.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef Karga reasons, causing Cara to grow more agitated. "This is ridiculous," she tells Din.

"Perhaps you should let him speak," Kuiil interjects calmly, while you maintain a steady gaze on Greef Karga.

Karga points out, "Listen, we three need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you two…"

"No," Din interrupts firmly.

Cara clenches her jaw, her blaster aimed at Greef Karga. "Let's just kill him and get outta here," she suggests, her frustration evident.

You feel the Force connecting you through your empathic powers, sensing the true colors of Greef Karga. Taking a deep breath and deactivating your saber, you speak up. "He's right."

Din lowers his blaster, while Cara hisses in disbelief, "What are you doing?"

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the child," Din explains to Cara, who responds with a warning, "It's a trap."

"Bring me," Din suddenly interjects.

"What?" you exclaim, taken aback, while Greef Karga echoes, "Bring you?"

"Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him," Din states with determination, and Karga nods, “That's a good idea. Give me your blaster.”

As Din hands over his blaster, it prompts you to protest as you take a step closer to him. "No! Hold on, it should be me. Bring me instead," you insist.

Din begins, "Cyar'ika—"

You sharply turn your head to face Greef Karga. "Do they know?"

Greef Karga begins to respond, but you cut him off, your voice tense with urgency. "Do. They. Know?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Okay," you swallow, your mind racing through the options and landing on a decision. "You bring me in. Say that Cara captured me and convinced Mando to trade me instead of the Child." You then hand over your saber hilt to Greef Karga who pockets it.

"No. Absolutely not. You are going back to the ship with Kuiil and the Child," Din interjects, his tone firm.

"But without her or the Child, none of this works!" Karga exclaims, trying to reason.

"I’m going with you," you assert, stepping closer to Din. As he meets your gaze through his visor, you see the conflict in his eyes. He starts to protest, but you cut him off with a whispered plea, "I am going with you, and there is nothing you could say to convince me otherwise. We face these things together." You reach out and touch the side of his helmet, feeling the cool metal beneath your palm as you press your foreheads together. "Let me be there for you, like you were for me. Please."

Din hesitates, visibly conflicted. Finally, he lets out a shaky exhale. "Maker help me. Fine, fine. But you listen to me, alright? When I tell you to run, you run. Got it?"

You nod, determination in your eyes. "Okay."

Din grunts out his plan. "Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. Once you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

"Here's a comlink," Kuiil says, handing Din the device. "I will keep the child safe."

Kuiil looks at Cara and advises, "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

"Let's go," Din nods, prompting everyone to prepare. He turns to you, offering a pair of silver binders. You secure your hands in front of him, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the familiar sensation of the cuffs.

With a click, your hands are bound, and he asks softly, "Not too tight?"

Feeling playful, you respond with a cheeky grin, "You could make it tighter."

There's a warmth in his chest, almost like laughter. His mouth quirks into a smirk. "Cyar'ika, you are going to be the death of me."

You freeze, sensing the shift in his demeanor beneath the helmet. It's almost like awe or something.

"What?" he asks, catching your reaction.

"You're smiling, I can tell by your voice," you note, smiling yourself. Your eyes meet the visor of his helmet, and his skin prickles with awareness.

Suddenly, he wants you a lot closer. In his lap. Straddling him, maybe. Your hands in his hair, and his in yours. But there's no time for that. You clear your throat, breaking the moment, and gesture toward Greef Karga, who is waiting for the other pair of stun cuffs to restrain Din.

Din regains his composure, walking over to Greef Karga to be cuffed. As he does, Cara conceals her tattooed arm with a cloth, and Kuiil picks up the Child from the hovering pram. With your group heading in opposite directions, you hope fervently that everything will go according to plan.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — DAY

Greef and Cara escort the bound Mandalorian, you, and the hovering pram toward the town. At the gate, they come across two scout troopers riding 74-Z speeder bikes.

"Chain code?" one of the Scout Troopers demands, eyeing Greef Karga suspiciously.

Greef nods toward you and Din. "I have a gift for the boss."

The Scout Trooper repeats, "Chain code?" with insistence. Reluctantly, Greef retrieves his card and hands it over.

The Scout Trooper scans Greef's card. "I'll give you 20 credits for the helmet," he offers, eyeing the Mandalorian's helmet.

Greef lets out a fake laugh. "Ha-ha! Not a chance. That's going on my wall."

Din leans in to Karga, whispering, "On your wall?" Greef shoots him a pointed look. "Go with it."

"Go ahead," the Scout Trooper says, returning Greef's card. The group proceeds forward into town.

Cara gives Greef a sharp look. "You said four. There are more than four troopers."

Greef explains quietly, "Four guarding the client. Many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse."

Cara suggests, "Slip him his blaster."

Greef shakes his head. "Not yet."

You approach the cantina's entrance, Greef Karga announcing, "Here we are." As the door slides open, the once bustling space is now eerily empty, save for the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers stationed inside, their presence unsettling.

Greef nods towards the troopers. "You see? Four." He then leads you and Din towards the Client, gesturing towards both of you. "Look what I brought you. As promised."

The Client moves closer to Din, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns of Din's beskar chest plate. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It's remarkable how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans."

Your expression twists in disgust as you watch the Client touch Din's armor. Then, the Client's attention shifts to you, his hand reaching out to grab your face. You meet his gaze with a defiant glare as he remarks, "Ah, the Jedi. Word travels fast whenever your kind is spotted." His tone drips with disdain. "What a waste."

As the Client releases your face, you feel a surge of revulsion. Sensing Din's simmering anger, you brace yourself.

"Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" the Client proposes to Greef Karga, who accepts with a nod.

An RA-7 protocol droid sets to work at the bar, preparing drinks for Greef and the Client. Gesturing towards a nearby booth, the Client invites, "Please, have a seat."

As you take your place, the Client begins, "It's regrettable that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable."

He turns his attention to Din. "Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire enhances every system it touches." You let out a derisive scoff, prompting the Client to continue, undeterred. "Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside." He gestures towards the window. "Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos."

You grit your teeth and suppress a retort, sensing the Client's emotions swirling before you, a dark maelstrom of black and red hues.

"I would like to see the baby," the Client requests.

Greef Karga clears his throat. "Uh... It's asleep."

"We'll all be quiet. Open the pram," the Client insists, narrowing his eyes. You swallow nervously, feeling a sense of unease. But before the situation can escalate, a stormtrooper approaches the Client and murmurs something discreetly. The Client stands abruptly. "Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call."

A stormtrooper sets up a holoprojector as the Client strides over to it. Under the table, Greef Karga discreetly unbinds his restraints, while Din swiftly does the same for you, his hands deftly removing the cuffs. "Give me the blaster and her saber hilt," he instructs Karga, his tone firm.

"You get one shot," Greef Karga reminds Din as he hands over your saber hilt. Din passes it to you with a determined nod.

Cara leans in close, her voice barely a whisper. "This is bad. You said four."

"Well, there are more. What can I tell you?" Greef Karga replies quietly.

A tense moment hangs in the air, and you sense a shift in the atmosphere. Before you can react, gunfire erupts from outside the cantina, catching everyone off guard. The shots strike the Client and his stormtroopers, sending them sprawling to the ground. Instinctively, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef dive behind a nearby table for cover. Amidst the chaos, the RA-7 protocol droid is caught in the crossfire and falls to the ground, incapacitated.

Taking cover behind various pillars, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef cautiously assess the situation. Through the shattered windows of the cantina, a line of death troopers becomes visible, their ominous presence sending a chill down your spine. As if that weren't enough, an Imperial Troop Transport rolls onto the scene, unloading a squad of stormtroopers, further escalating the situation.

"Four stormtroopers?" Cara scoffs, her expression darkening. "This is bad."

The Mandalorian quickly contacts Kuiil via comlink, his voice urgent. "Kuiil? Are you back at the ship yet?" After a tense moment of silence, he presses, "Are you there? Do you copy?"

"Yes!" Kuiil's voice crackles through the comlink.

Din wastes no time. "Are you back at the ship yet?"

"Not yet," Kuiil replies.

"Get back to the ship and get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!" Din's command is sharp and resolute.

The roar of engines interrupts the chaos, drawing your attention outside. An Outland TIE fighter swoops into view, its retractable solar collectors gleaming in the sunlight. The Imperial officer emerges from the cockpit, clad in full black attire, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. His voice carries over the commotion as he declares, "You have something I want."

"Who's this guy?" Cara asks, her confusion evident.

"You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not," the officer asserts ominously.

"Kuiil, are you back at the ship yet? They're onto us!" Din urgently tries to reach Kuiil through the comlink.

No response.

Din attempts again, growing increasingly desperate. "Kuiil, come in!"

Still, there's silence.

"In a few moments, it will be mine," the officer threatens, his tone dripping with menace.

"Kuiil! Do you copy? Kuiil!" Din's voice echoes with urgency.

"It means more to me than you will ever know," the officer adds, his words sending a chill down your spine.

"Kuiil! Are you there? Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil, come in," Din pleads desperately.

"Kuiil? Are you there? Do you copy? Kuiil? Kuiil!"

TAGLIST: @wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil @n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x forcesensitive!reader #ethereal writes #thesilverliningch5 #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian rewrite #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #the mandaloria/reader #pedro pascal x reader

[happy-beeeps]

I Don’t Do Droids Pt 4

Pairing: translator!reader x Din Djarin

WC:2.5k woohoo! Longest part yet!

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of space slavery, incredibly quick speed throughs of episodes 1 and 2 on my part.

A/N: We’ve jumped ahead! I wanted to start focusing on their relationship, and getting Yodito in the mix. Also, I’m sorry if anyone is disappointed that I skipped over massive parts of each episode, I didn’t want this to just be a speed through of the episodes. I probably won’t even touch on much of episodes 5 and 6, this is just a good spot to start! As always, if there’s something you want to see, let me know!

* * *

In the months you’ve spent flying with Mando, you had to admit, this was one of the weirder jobs you’d accompanied him on. The lack of information, the remote location, and the clientele had made this a much more… complicated mission.

Still, you had to admit. That shiny beskar pauldron on his shoulder glinter with just the right amount of starlight, you could imagine the motivation for finishing the job. Letting a glance linger on him a moment more, you tried to think what he’d look like covered in the silverish metal.

“What are you staring at vaar’ika?”

“Thinking about what your bucket head is gonna look like with a matching tin suit.” You responded, earning a quiet scoff from your counterpart. He relaxed back in his seat for a moment, before switching the controls to autopilot. “Gonna check the weapons. Can you watch the ship?”

“What did you hire me for?”

“Speaking mostly, you already excel at that.” He placed a gentle touch to the top of your arm, letting it linger just a moment too long before tearing his glance away. Even under the shield of his visor, his eyes felt heavy on you. “Right then I’ll just… watch the ship.” You smiled, turning your attention to anything, the stars bleeding into one another out the window, the dust under the controls, literally anything but the giant man standing behind you. Once you heard the door behind him close, you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The months you two had spent close together, waiting for him on the ship while he wrestled in a new quarry, hunched over children's books you had saved on your datapad while you tried to teach him new languages, your feelings for the Mandalorian had absolutely flourished. You hated it. Each moment spent with him was suffocating, you felt butterflies in your belly when he touched you, leaving scorching marks where his fingers had been.

All this fanfare for a man you couldn’t even see.

The sound of quick beeps brought you back into your senses, as you prepared to switch the ship off of autopilot. “Mando!” you called, and were met with the sound of bustling and clambering as he stepped back into the cockpit. The bright light of Arvala-7 soon came into view as he pulled the ship out of hyperspace, and you looked around at the landscape as you circled around to land. “Looks like Tatooine.”

“Not every sand planet looks like Tatooine.”

“Yeah, well, this planet also has Jawas, so it’s basically Tatooine, alright bucket head?” “There are no Jawas here. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Who’s the linguistic genius of this operation?” You asked, earning nothing but an exasperated sigh from the man next to you as he set the ship down in a seemingly deserted sand patch. “I still think there’s Jawas here.”

* * *

“Just, stay here. Don’t start anything.”

“You act like I haven’t been with you for months now.”

“And you have the blaster I gave you?”

“Alright thanks dad, go do your thing now. I’m a functioning adult.” The ramp lowers as he prepares to step out into the blinding sunlight before he turns to face you. “I need to train you more on a blaster.” With his final remarks, you’re left on the ship, with a tiny blaster gifted to you by the weapons obsessed man before he steps out.

He makes it, by your guess, maybe a tenth of a click away from the ship before he gets absolutely rocked by two gigantic creatures. You laugh for a moment, before realizing how long it’s taking him to get up. “Oh shit,” you mumble, before keying in the code to lower the ramp to run out to him. Once you’re out there, and the gigantic creatures face you, you realize how stupid you look, tiny blaster pointing at these huge animals, shots reflecting off their thick hide. “I thought I told you to stay on the ship!”

“Oh yeah you have everything totally under control here!” You call, while one of the animals tears itself away from Mando to come charge at you. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” you call out, sending shots at them and resorting to a run. You’re saved by a large shot to the animals side, more following onto the remaining member of the herd. You glance over at Mando, pinned by one of the beasts, when a small Ugnaught approaches, riding his own creature. “Thank you.” Mando offers, and you’re always put off by how reserved he is with strangers. If he’s quiet with you, then he’s radio silent to everyone else.

“You’re a bounty hunter?” The man offers him.

“Yes.”

“And you?” He says, looking over at you, where you stand. The two of you must be a sight, a battered Mandalorian and a you, clad in your favorite skirt and shortened top from a market stall in Naboo, you had prepared yourself for a day of comfort, and secret blaster practice while he got the quarry. “I’m his translator.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, looking pensive for a moment before giving a short and simple, “I will help you.” Mando looks over at you, and you glance up at the Ugnaught again before he speaks once more. “I have spoken.”

* * *

The Ugnaught’s camp is quaint, you happen to quite like it. Mando looked large and uncomfortable, nestled around smaller, homier things, but you happen to feel rather at ease. The man seems kind and blunt, two things you value, and it reminds of your home in Coruscant, or the small place you lived on Tatooine. Now, however, you are brought to the ever present mortality of your counterpart's profession, as you saddle up behind him on the bluurg he will ride to the location of the asset. You and the Ugnaught will return to his farm after dropping Mando off, you know better to mess with him and a quarry, and frankly, from the way it sounds, it would take a miracle for you to not die on the way. “Hey, Mando?” you start, as you stand next to him by the bluurg, “can you try not to die on this one?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Just… try double hard?” He looks down at you, holding your wrist for just a moment before softly speaking, “Is that the scarf I bought you on Devaron?” Before you could offer a reply, the Ugnaught returned. “We will leave when you’re ready. I have spoken.”

The ride to the asset’s location is long, and under different circumstances, probably enjoyable. Blurrgs were fun to ride, they way the bounded over the canyons made you feel free. The feeling of dropping off Mando at the encampment still clung to you like a wet rag. You couldn’t wait to be done with this bounty.

* * *

You appreciated that the Ugnaught (whose name you learned was Kuiil, when you realized that Mando had forgotten to ask) was kind enough to not only keep you at his camp for the night, but keep you busy. He was kind, talkative, and appreciated the help in small repairs. “You seem to have much knowledge of many things. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Naboo originally, I had a very expensive education.” “Naboo is wonderful, so I’ve heard. Was rule under the empire hard on your people?” The question struck you with some difficulty. The rule was by no means hard, you just happened to be unlucky. “Not entirely. I didn’t get to live there long. I enjoyed it very much though, I would love to go back.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I…  was studying to be a handmaiden for the queen. When I was twelve, the academy was attacked. We were picked off and sold into slavery. My owner fell into hardship, and freed all of us before fleeing the system. I was on Tatooine for many years before I was helped by a man. An old bounty hunter, who needed some assistance on a job. He gave me credits and contact, and dropped me off on Coruscant.” Kuiil hesitated for a moment before reaching over and placing a gentle hand on yours. “I was a slave for many years. I worked for my freedom, and now I live here in peace. I empathize with you. You would’ve made an excellent handmaiden, but I think you work much better with the Mandalorian.”

“Thank you. Although, I have to admit, he’s fun and all, but have you seen how fancy some of the dresses the Nabian royalty get to wear?” With that Kuiil let out a hearty laugh before patting your hand. “Get some rest. Your Mandalorian will return in the morning. He cares deeply for you.” He rose with this, and you stretched out on the bench in the hut. You shot him a confused look quickly, “What do you mean?” He smiled before walking towards the small cot in the far side of the room. “I have spoken.”

* * *

Kriff. He was going to kill you. Actually kill you, chop you into little pieces and then feed them to Kuiil’s blurggs. You knew it wasn’t your fault, Kuiil had assured you that Mando would’ve been in the hut with you too, but still.

Jawas had stripped the entirety of the Razor Crest. Every tiny piece. They even took the very thing you were looking for, the ceramic caff cup you got on Rodia. “Kuiil. He’s going to kill me.”

“He will not.” “He’s gonna drop me off at Mustafar and never look back.”

You spent the day assisting Kuiil with any repairs you could, and practicing your shooting at the abandoned part of his farm. Every passing minute made you more anxious, you needed him to be back soon, but you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel when he returned, and asked to go back to the ship.

It was nearly the following nightfall when he returned, and you could tell by the way he walked that he was not very pleased. You ran out of Kuiils house to meet him, “Mando!” you yelled, running towards him, he visibility softened at the sight of you, grabbing your arms before asking, “Are you ok? The Jawas took everything. Were you on the ship?”

“Mando I’m so, so sorry. I thought you said there weren’t any and I didn’t even think to guard it and-”

“We’ll deal with it somehow.” He responded, before turning his attention to the busted control pad on his arm, leaving you to soak in the adorable green bundle at his feet. “This is what everyone was searching for?” Kuiil asked, causing Mando to look up for just a moment.

“I believe it's a child.” he responded, leaving you to send them both a scoff. You scooped up the tiny baby in your arms before turning to them. “Ugh, men. Of course it’s a baby. It’s PRECIOUS.”

“Best to turn it in alive then.” Kuiil said, sending a sinking feeling into your gut. Turn it in. For some reason or another, this was a bounty, and it was Mando’s job to turn it in.

“I will take you to the Jawas to get your parts. I have spoken.”

* * *

You and Mando had returned to the ship, him absolutely caked in mud, and you still smirking over the memory of his butchered Jawa Trade Talk. The ride back to Kuiil’s was quiet, him brooding over the baby in its floating bassinet. He had mentioned something amazing had happened, but said nothing more. “You’re lucky they didn’t try and use Jawaese, you can barely get trade talk down.” You had teased, trying to lighten his mood. After a few moments of silence he retorted, “Says more about my teacher than me.” With a gentle nudge to your side.

Now, you were practically knee deep in parts, as you worked with him to repair the ship after he had bargained with the Jawas, and retrieved their weird fuzzy egg. The baby was beside him, enclosed in the bassinet, while he worked on finishing up some of the interior wiring in the hull. Kuiil had turned in for the night, leaving the two of you to work until you were exhausted.

There was something about seeing him like this, with the baby floating behind him, tools slinging off of his hip as he repaired the ship… he’s almost paternal. Your heart flies up to your chest as you watch him work in the soft work light you had loaned from Kuiil, and the warm fire that barely dripped in from outside the camp. In spite of yourself, you let yourself stare a little more, wondering if he’s handsome underneath that helmet. What color his eyes are. You’re almost sure they’re brown, the inviting and comforting kind. You can’t shake it, it’s the same desire you felt on Devaron. The woes of falling for a man you’ll never see. Your moment of solitude is up when he turns to face you, letting a breathy laugh escape from under his helmet-- so slight the modulator almost lets it by. “What are you staring at?” Maybe it’s the light, or maybe it was the chaos of these past few days, but you let yourself say it. “You.” He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to you, leathered hand snaking around your wrist. “Would you believe it if I said I was staring at you too?” You turned away from him, a deep blush spreading across your face as you tried to look anywhere but at him. “Your dumb visor blocks me out, how am I supposed to know if you’re lying or not?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” Your red faded into a pink as his hand snaked up to rest on your cheek, you leaned into it and felt him step even closer. “Can I trust you?” he asked, his voice soft and quiet. He leaned over and tapped out the work light next to you, plunging the hull of the ship into pitch black. “You can trust me.” You whispered, and his thumb traced your cheek for just a moment before he responded. “Good. Close your eyes” In seconds, you heard the sound of his helmet coming off, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing them closed with all your might before you felt his lips on yours. You sighed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers along the edges of his hair. It felt longer than you expected, but not unkempt. His breath tasted like caff, and something else you couldn’t quite place, and you could melt into how soft his lips were. This was perfect, this was bliss. You could die right here and now so help you gods. He pulled away far too soon, and you soon heard the hiss of the helmet reconnecting. “You can open your eyes now,” he murmured, and he was once again illuminated by the soft work lamp. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that,” he spoke, and you stepped towards him, placing his hand in yours, “Well, maybe I’ll just have to stare at you more often.”

#din djarin x reader #din #din djarin #din djarin imagine #sw imagine #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #Mandalorian #mandalorian imagines

[ezrasarm]

WIP Tag Game

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

Thanks for the tag @alwaysbethewest and @din-damn-djarin!

It’s a really random assortment at the moment. A lot of them haven’t been active in a long time but I still intend to get back to them at some point.

My creative writing portfolio lol

Big Boys Must Cry Benny Miller x reader

Untitled Paz Vizsla x Mandalorian!reader

Untitled Din Djarin x empath!reader

Lil' Javi Somethin' Somethin' (that's what the doc is called okay?) Javier Peña x reader

Roommates Part 4 Frankie Morales x F!reader

Untitled Ezra x reader (requested)

Cold Water Benny Miller x reader

Untitled Fives x reader

Untitled Waxer x reader

Untitled no ship TCW, empath!reader

He Was A Friend of Mine platonic Llewyn Davis x reader

Tagging (but hey no pressure): I actually feel like I’ve seen this going around a lot and I have no idea who’s already done it and who hasn’t so if you haven’t been tagged yet and want to do it consider yourself tagged by me! What are you up to?

#tag game #moose talks #wips

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 1

Chapter One: The Mercury Keeps Rising

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families in need of medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and albeit the bounty hunters as well. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has somehow led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths,

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: YA’LL IM BACK TO WRITING MY SOUL OUT HERE YAY! I feel like this is gonna be a weekly updated fic or updated twice a week if I’m feeling speedy hehe. Did I turn to the Enneagram again? Yep! You are an Enneagram Two for this fic! Yay! (Cause I’m an Enneagram Two :>) And Din is an Enneagram One, so ya’ll are romantically compatible. Anyways, my thoughts and explanations are gonna be in the end notes! Leave a comment to let me know if you want this series or if I should scrap it. :)

Song: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

Just a little longer now… Shouldn't be much longer. Wait, what is this about? You’ve been having trouble sleeping since you were young. The nightmares were nothing new, but the sharp flares in your chest and side kept bothering you recently. Your nervous system's acting up and now being awake feels unsafe as you lay there in your cot, clutching your chest, feeling each breath that escapes from your nose and out through your mouth as you stare at the ceiling above you.

You were a long way from Bogden 3, where you were raised. Nevarro wasn’t the ideal place to hide. It was situated within a sector of the Outer Rim Territories, in a system with a singular star and asteroid fields. An ashen world of black sands, with rocky and volcanic terrain that consisted of regions of rocky flats and hills along with vast fields of lava, which contained lava rivers both on the surface and underground. 

The planet became a bounty hunter hive after the fall of the Empire. The Bounty Hunters’ Guild owns hubs throughout the Galaxy. One of such hub is located on the Outer Rim planet Nevarro, which functions as a cantina. The cantina works around the clock, has its brewery, offers a wide selection of drinks with snacks, provides coolness from the air conditioner, and is a favorite place for rest and meetings of bounty hunters.

By some luck or the unknown ways of the Force, no one had recognized you nor put a bounty on your head yet. After aiding the Republic during the revolution against the Empire and after the Battle of Yavin as a healer and a medic, you left to medically aid those in need after the war. If you were being honest, you missed your friends in the Soaring Hawkbat Clan and the people who raised you. However, you knew that what you were doing needed to be done. 

Droids may sometimes be unreliable, and no matter how sophisticated technology becomes, there is no substitute for the human touch. No droid, no matter how dexterous, can offer compassion. It might be able to store and process more medical information, but only people can offer a truly sympathetic ear. As one of the few who possessed the knowledge to provide primary care to the sick and wounded, Greef Karga eventually established a small medcenter a few blocks away from the cantina.

You decide to push yourself up and away from your cot, seeing the glimmer of light peek through the window. Cleaning up, getting dressed, and after quickly eating a piece of purple fruit, you sling your brown satchel over your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the medcenter. As you enter, you greet the 2-1B droid which had modular limbs that allowed them to use a range of surgical tools and other medical instruments based on their patients' needs. You made your way over to your desk, setting down your bag and then sterilizing your hands afterward.

Different energy and buzz were happening around Nevarro. As you patched up one of the Trandoshan and sold them a couple of cans containing bacta for a good amount of credits, you had overheard them talking about receiving a job from the Client and planning a flight to Arvala-7. Living on this bounty hunter-infested planet taught you to listen for information and to use it to your advantage when necessary. They were usually given a holopuck, a simple holographic device used to display an image of the quarry and the bounty payout. However, they were only given a tracking fob, the Trandoshan briefly flashing it to you before tucking it away in their belt.

The next few hours were spent treating different families with various illnesses and injuries, then sending them off with some medication and a specific date to return. This was your usual routine, nothing new to note except for that tiny piece of information from earlier.

The sound of the doors hissing to life causes you to turn your head. If you were being honest, this was the last person you expected to show up in your medcenter. Your mouth gaped open as you take in the sight of the tall and imposing figure in front of you. The unmistakable shape of the Mandalorian helmet and polished silver causes you to nearly choke on your saliva.

“Do you have any bacta spray?” The sound of his rough and modulated voice causes you to try and gather your composure as he walks towards you, which proves to be slightly challenging. You clear your throat and look at his vizor, “Yeah, let me just go to the cabinet to get some.” He doesn’t respond, leaving you to awkwardly stand there for a few more seconds before moving to retrieve the bacta spray.

You usually aren’t this nervous or anxious around anyone, but the Mandalorian was completely different. As you rummage through the cabinet, you try and fight the overwhelming urge to sense his feelings, but it is no use. He radiates with deep hurt from his past but tries to bury his soul in the dark. This Mandalorian weights living heavy on his spine. A man who has created mistakes grips at them until his hands are bruised and burning. You wince at that, nearly dropping one of the bacta sprays but manage to catch it, turning to the Mandalorian keenly observing you as you make your way over to him, trying to ignore the waves and streaks of grey and silver glowing around his figure, you quickly hand it to him while saying, “I hope three is enough for now.” 

He curtly nods, “How much?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to pay. It’s fine.” The slight tilt of his helmet almost causes you to blush, you feel his curiosity and concern, “I insist.”

You blink and shake your head again, “Nope. Just… be careful on your journey. That’s enough for me.” You sense his confusion and interest before he turns and walks away, leaving a trail of gray streaks only you could see, hearing the slight clink sound of beskar, and the doors closing.

Once you’re sure he left, you bring both of your hands to the side of your face, using two fingers to rub into your temple, sighing in embarrassment and disappointment for allowing yourself to nearly reveal who you truly are. Having strong Force empathy abilities involved picking up impressions of an individual's feelings and general emotional state. There was no explanation for the aura you could see around individuals, a specific color for each living creature that encompasses their character, personality, morals, past, present, and sometimes, a rare glimpse of their future emotions.

You try and ground yourself by closing your eyes and breathing, controlled and steady breaths of air as you reassure yourself that you’re safe. The peace doesn’t last long, as flashes of visions begin to cloud your periphery. Loud explosions on Nevarro, blaster fights, the unmistakable loud cries of a child, and the Mandalorian at the center of it all. You fall to your knees, clutching your chest tightly and the other to hold your upper body. You sensed the dark side, anger, fear, aggression, and a lust for power from this planet long before, but now you sense there is something much more sinister approaching.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – NOON

After a few days, you intercepted a transmission from the Mandalorian successfully capturing the bounty from Arvala-7, and must be directly given to The Client. While the Mandalorian was gone you had been secretly training, meditating, and gathering more information about whoever this Client may be, allowing the Force to guide you to the path you must walk on.

You step out of the medcenter to see the Razor Crest preparing to land on the settlement's spaceport and disembark. You toss the hood over your head and use a scarf as a mask, hiding in the shadows, watching the Mandalorian and a hover-pram pass you by swiftly and you catch a glimpse of a green creature inside. Your mouth slightly drops open in shock and the quiet feeling of the Force settles inside of you as you eye the baby.

You follow the two of them from a distance, not wanting to be noticed or seen. The Mandalorian turns right into an alleyway, and you wait a few seconds before trailing him. You hide behind one of the stone pillars, keenly observing his movements. The Mandalorian pounds loudly on a metal door and a TT-8L/Y7 gatekeeper droid,  a simple photoreceptor mounted on a retractable eyestalk. The Mandalorian shows a disc as proof of identity. You notice The Child reacts in surprise as the droid retracts.

The door unlocks, and you realize you must follow them without getting caught. Your eyes close as you calmed yourself, deep breaths in and out, registering the light and sound waves around you, every particle and atom. Tiny pieces of music, notes in the air that only you can hear, each sound of your heartbeat, you hold my breath and try to swim. Making infinite room for hope and oxygen, every cell across your skin comes to life, and slowly willing the light particles to bend and render you invisible to visual and audio detection.

When you open your eyes, you silently gasped, seeing a pair of Remnant Stormtroopers exit the house, and watching The Child lowers its ears and head. Your hands clench in a fist so tight you reminded yourself to breathe, following after the Mandalorian and the Stormtroopers before the door slides shut behind you. Inside the corridor, one of the stormtroopers roughly yanks the Child's cradle. Your eyes narrow in agitation and annoyance, the Madalorian is quick to say, “Easy with that.” To which the first Stormtrooper snarkily replies, “You take it easy.”

The stormtroopers lead you to a frail old man who you assume to be the Client and to a familiar-looking doctor on the side, the Client is delighted, “Yes!” He holds the tracking fob and approaches the Child, “Yes, yes, yes! Yes.” The Doctor begins to scan the child with a device, eventually, the scanner beeps to his delight, “Very healthy. Yes.”

The Client stands taller to speak to the Mandalorian, “Your reputation was not unwarranted.” The Mandalorian isn’t the least bit flattered, opting to question him, “How many fobs did you give out?” To which the Client responds, “This asset was of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure its delivery. But to the winner…” He walks over to the desk, bringing out a large container, “Go the spoils.” After a few buttons are pushed, the sides of the container bloom open to reveal bars of Beskar. The Mandalorian comes closer to the center table, holding two bars of beskar as you frown in disappointment.

“Such a large bounty for such a small package.” The Client says, and the Child cries and coos for the Mandalorian as he is taken away by the doctor. He can’t help the guilt that bubbles inside of him, he asks, “What are your plans for it?” The Client isn’t amused by his inquiry, “How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?”

Two more Stormtroopers appear from the room to the right, standing behind the Client, “That Beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” With that, the Mandalorian places the two pieces of Beskar inside the container. No longer speaking and leaving with his prize as you follow him outside undetected.

Once you were in the main streets of the city, you pull back your cloak and render yourself visible, watching the Mandalorian walks through the marketplace and down the steps into the sewer below. You feel the heavy weight on your chest, unsure if the emotions you feel are coming from him or if they are your own. You shake your head and make your way to the Cantina, needing a drink after all of the information you’ve gathered.

You were taught about Master Yoda, a legendary Jedi Master and stronger than most in his connection with the Force. Small in size but wise and powerful, he trained Jedi for over eight hundred years, playing integral roles in the Clone Wars, and helped in the upbringing of Master Luke Skywalker, to which your clan members were deciding to join him or not. Could this Child be another one of his kind?

The Cantina doors opened and you were immediately greeted by Greef Karga, “Well, look who we have here our favorite medic! Never thought you’d step foot in this place.” You shrugged in response, trying to shake off the stares of the different guests in the Cantina, “I gotta support Mikgel from time to time. Besides, he said he owed me a free drink.” You walk a bit closer to Greef Karga’s table as he asks, “Why would a woman like you, so carefree spirited need a drink?” 

You sit on the other side of the booth, placing both of your arms atop the table, “Would… finding out about Imperial Forces hiding in out in a safe house on our planet count?” Greef Karga chokes on air and winces, you tilt your head down and raise an eyebrow, “Did you think you could keep this from me? What the hell are they doing here?”

He regains his composure and leans forward to whisper his reply, “I never intended to keep it from you. I was trying to protect you.” You scoff in disbelief and annoyance, “Protect me?”

To which Karga says, “Yes! Protect you, if they knew who you were and what you are they’d–” You rarely get angry, always choosing to see the good in people, but you sense the feeling of Karga’s greed and mixed lies.

You raise your hand, palm facing him, “Don’t lecture me about something I’ve lived and fought through. Giving them your services makes you an accomplice, a rat, and a damn coward.” The taste of acid and the waves of color that is radiates off of Karga is a mix of a bright lava orange and red, his simmering anger hisses at you, “Look who’s to talk. Hiding all your life. Running from your own future. Isn’t that a bit selfish and cowardly?” You deflate at that, understanding that he is partially right.

But before you could respond to the sound of the doors hissing open, you turn your head to see the Mandalorian entering the cantina, which silences its patrons as everyone gazes at him. Completely decked out with shiny new armor, he is completely unbothered as he approaches the table where you and Greef Karga are conversing. Karga heartily laughs, “Ah! Mando! They all hate you, Mando. Because you’re a legend!”

You try and get out of the booth and leave but Mando uses his right hand for you to stay put, so you settle back down again. You raise your eyes to hear the raspy voice of the Mandalorian confront Karga, “How many of them had tracking fobs?” Greef Karga scoffs and gestures around the Cantina, “All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you.” The Mandalorian looks at you, “What about her?” To which you look up at him and frown, “No. I’m just a medic getting a drink after a tough day. But congratulations, I guess.”

Greef Karga continues, “And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit with us, my friend.” The Mandalorian obliges and unclips his Amban sniper rifle, placing it on the side of the couch before you move a little to the right to give him room to sit next to you. He took up almost half of the booth with his width and physique. You feel your left arm warm up with how close he was, the comfort that allures you to his orbit was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You choose to look straight ahead, trying not to acknowledge him pressed up beside you, luckily Greef Karga opens his mouth to talk, “They’re all weighing the Beskar in their minds, but not me. No. I, for one, celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well.”

Your right leg bounces up and down in anticipation Karga continues, “Hell! Even I’m rich.” He chuckled and digs into his breast pocket to reveal the two bars of Beskar he was given by the Client. You roll your eyes in annoyance, but the Guild Master says, “Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?”

Mando cuts to the chase, “I want my next job.” Greef Karga takes a sip of his drink before placing it down on the table, he eyes him with confusion, “Next job? Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I’ll take you to the Twi’lek healing baths.” You frown at that and Mando doesn’t seem to care, “I want my next job.” Karga sighs, “Sure. Fine.”

“You hunters like to keep busy, right?” Karaga says with an amused tone, “Well, these are all far away.” He places a bunch of holopucks on the table and the Mandalorian reaches out to grab one, “The further, the better.” Karga smiles, “Well, take your pick. You’ve earned it.”

Mando places the holopuck on the table and it whizzes to life, showing an image of a Mon Calamari. “Ah. That’s the best one of the lot. A nobleman’s son skipped bail. Looks like you’re headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything and simply takes the puck and moves away from the table, grabbing his Amban sniper rifle, seemingly satisfied with his pick. You turn to watch him go but he freezes, and you use the force to reach out what he’s feeling, to be flooded with waves of guilt. Your eyebrows knit together as you hear Mando ask, “Any idea what they’re gonna do with it?”

Karga is packing the rest of the holopucks, “With what?” The Mandalorian turns to face him, “The kid.” Karga shakes his head, “I didn’t ask. It’s against the Guild Code.” Mando’s voice goes deeper as he points out, “They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” You raise your eyebrows at Karga, as you smile smugly at him, “I asked the same thing.” To which he says, “Are the two of you working together? The Empire is gone. All that are left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you both, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.”

You rolled your eyes and the Mandalorian grunts out, “That’s a joke.” Greef doesn’t give a remark about his statement, instead, he says, “Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t reply and simply takes his leave. You shake your head, scoffing at Karga and he calls out your name as you near the exit, “I suggest you keep yourself out of sight with those Imperial troops. For your safety, of course.” You say nothing and leave the Cantina, you feel the ground shaking under your feet and feel the pressure building until you can't breathe.

You shake your head, and the temptation of the dark side calls to you, to give in to your rage and hatred, you internally fight it off, gritting your teeth as you say, “No.” You catch your breath and focus, rationalizing your decision to break into the Imperial Remnant safe house to save the Child, then you will yourself to move towards the medcenter.

You swiftly walked towards your desk, grabbed your satchel, and opened the flap of the leather. Finding the fabric that wraps around the object you were searching for, you pull it out of the satchel and unwrap it. The lightsaber hilt that you haven’t touched since the day you left the clan, weighs heavy in your hands but the familiar cool touch of silver and gold metal forged into one grant you a sense of comfort. You wrap the hilt once more, not yet needing your lightsaber, placing it inside your satchel and instead arm yourself with a blaster. As you were gathering a few bacta sprays, the double doors sounded open, you don’t look over your shoulder as you say, “We’re closed for the day.”

“I need your help.” You feel your eyes expand and widen, the familiar voice of the Mandalorian causes you to wince a little bit as you turn to see his figure standing a few feet away from you.

You try to act nonchalant ask you ask, “What did you um… need?” Mando steps a bit closer to you, which causes your back to hit the cabinet door, his grave voice echoes through the modulator, “I need your help with rescuing the kid.” You swallow away your nervousness, “What? Why would you ask for my help?”

“You never showed up to the Cantina until today. You were asking Karga about the Imperials and you were curious as to why there were here. You never carry a weapon with you so I’m assuming you’re about to infiltrate their base. It looks like our interests are aligned,” Mando stated plainly as you quietly shook your head, “You don’t know me. So why trust me at all with this?”

It takes him a moment to form a response, you watch as his shoulders rise and fall with every intake of breath, then he says, “I’ve heard the good you’ve done for the people of Nevarro. No judgment or malice. Sometimes giving them medical care for free. You’re right, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done before. But right now, I do know you’ve only done the right thing. So, I’m asking for your help.”

You were startled by his response, completely breathless by his honesty and directness. You had thought he didn’t know who you were, just some medic around Nevarro, plain and simple. But it seems the Mandalorian also keeps tabs on the citizens around the town.

The color aura of the Mandalorian returns as you blink at him, feeling his emotions bouncing off of him and you becoming the receiver. Sparks of white and silver illuminate him, sensing his sincerity and need to save the Child. You lick your lips as an anxious tick and then nod, “Okay. I’ll do it. What’s the plan?”

The sun was beginning to set, casting shadows on your figures as you swiftly walk down the marketplace and down the alleyway to see the giant green metal door to the Imperial safe house. You make a right to find the hovering pram in the dumpster, and you feel his rage beside you. Like wildfire within him, mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke. It's fight or flight buried in his mind as alarms will sound.

You both climb up to the rooftop of the building across, positioned on his stomach, using his sniper rifle to listen to his targets. Clicking the side of his helmet to which the device whizzes and the static could be heard as you lay flat next to him. You figured he was listening to the targets and waiting for him to relay the information. After a few seconds, the Mandalorian quickly says, “We need to get the kid out of there before they leave.” You nodded as you lifted your hood up, “Okay.”

You both climb down off the rooftop. The Mandalorian bangs on the green door and is greeted by the gatekeeper droid. However, the Mandalorian violently grabs the stem, causing it to screech and rips off the droid's head, causing it to short circuit. He quickly walks away to the side, causing the two stormtroopers to come out to investigate. 

One of them tells the other, “Check the perimeter.” 

You and the Mandalorian plant a grav charge on a nearby wall, he grabs your wrist to hide behind another wall, “Cover your ears.”

You follow his instructions, using both of your hands to cover them, the beeping chirps louder, then sparks begin to fly, blowing a hole in the Imperial compound. Alarms are blaring, as you both walk into the corridor, positioning yourselves and waiting for the stormtroopers to advance.

The yellow lights flicker and eventually short-circuit, catching a glimpse of sparks flying on the side of the wall. You see the stormtroopers pass you and the Mandalorian to inspect the giant hole in the wall, using the flashlights on the side of their blasters to find nothing.

You both appear from behind the stormtroopers, the Mandalorian shooting the both of them from behind. Another stormtrooper enters the corridor and finds his fallen comrades, one of whom has a smoking hole in his chest. The Mandalorian once again appears from the shadows, knocking him down with his blaster and shooting him as well.

So far you hadn’t even needed to draw out your blaster, Mando is truly skilled. You walk through the corridors of the facility, checking each corner for stormtroopers. You and he venture deeper into the compound where he traps a fourth stormtrooper with his grappling cable and stabs him with his vibroblade. 

You shoot a door open and the stormtrooper manages to get a hit on this shoulder pauldron, causing him to jerk backward but manages to shoot the stormtrooper inside the laboratory. You both walk inside and you spot the doctor and an IT-O Interrogation Unit. The doctor begins to plead for his life, “No, no, no, no, please. Please. No. No, no.” You raise your blaster to shoot down the IT-O Interrogation Unit, watching the pile of junk collapse on the ground. 

Mando raises his blaster to shoot at the doctor, but he begs you both once more, “No, please. Please don’t hurt him. It’s just a child.” You and the Mandalorian walk toward him and he continues to plead, “Please. No. No! Please. No. No, no.” Mando grabs him by his chest and shoves him to the side, causing him to fall to the floor. He points and clicks his blaster at him, and he curls into a ball with his arm stretched out begging. You make your way to the machine keeping the child, finding him deep asleep.

You feel the Mandalorian break at the sight, alarms are still blaring, but it's too late for holy water now. He points the blaster, angrily asking, “What did you do to it?” He doesn’t get an immediate response which causes him to repeat the question harshly, “What did you do to it?” The doctor shakingly replies, “I protected him. If it wasn’t for me, he would already be dead! Please! Please. Please.”

The doctor whimpers as you quickly grab the Child and leave with the Mandalorian. You make a right but here the doors open, Mando grabs you and presses you up against a wall to hide behind some of the storage crates. You suddenly feel nauseous and can hear your own heartbeat flutter as you register the cool kiss of his armor against your warm flesh. You close your eyes as you feel the rise and fall of your chest and hear Mandos’ quiet breathing.

You try to push down your powers and senses, not wanting to feel his emotions at this particular moment right now. You feel the strings and waves radiating and intertwining with yours, the silver wisps curling with your bright shining colors. You tightly shut your eyes, hoping that you were almost out of this compound.

Suddenly, you hear the Mandalorian whisper, “They’re gone.”

Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to meet his gaze through his vizor, there is a spectrum of color, surrounding you both. Your mouth partly opens to say something but there is no sound. For a moment, you believed he felt something too, the pull of gravity within your orbit. However, Mando pulls away from you and the colors disappear once more as if it was never truly there.

Neither of you spoke as you trail behind him and walk into a storeroom. The unexpected sound of the door opening catches you and Mando off-guard as two stormtroopers with flashlights attached to their armor try to shoot you both down. One of the stormtroopers says, “Split up. We’ll flush him out.”

You see their flashlights give away their positions, giving you and him time to defend yourselves. You turn to your left to give Mando the Child, letting him carry it, and make your way to the other stormtrooper.

“Give it up. There’s nowhere to–” You hear the groan of the stormtrooper being taken down by Mando, and you do the same to the other one, hitting him over the head with your blaster before knocking him out completely.

Another stormtrooper announces his arrival, “Hey!” To which you grab Mando’s Ampan sniper rifle on the floor, electrocuting him with the fork end of the device.

As you both exit the storeroom only to run into a stormtrooper. You both exchange gunfire, the sharp whizzing sound of blaster fire echoes in your ears, and the Mandalorian shoots him down. A second stormtrooper blasts his way through, and he unleashes his flamethrower on the second stormtrooper, scorching him. The Child looks away as this happens. The charred stormtrooper falls to the ground.

You groan in annoyance, “How many are there?” Mando hums, “Way too many for the Empire to be considered gone.”

You follow him and enter the meeting room with him holding the Child. Seemingly empty you walk straight to the exit doors, however, they open to reveal four more stormtroopers, “Freeze!” You three are completely cornered, “Don’t move! Hands up!” One of them yells, “Drop the blasters!”

You glare at the stormtroopers as Mando speaks calmly to them, “Wait. What I’m holding is very valuable. Here.” Mando gestures to you to do the same as you get down on your knees to place your blasters on the ground and he gently places the Child on the floor as well. “Now turn and face me!”

A stormtrooper commands, but neither of you moves, allowing yourself to have faith in the Mandalorian’s plans. You watch him clench his fists, and you hear the device on his arm chirp to life. “Stand up!” They command once more but you don’t follow their orders. A beat passes. The sharp sound of whistling birds creating fireworks as he unleashes them onto your enemies, you hear them groan in pain as it takes out all of the stormtroopers.

Mando gently picks up the Child and his blaster to which you grab your blaster from the floor, quickly exiting the compound. You walk side by side with the Mandalorian through the streets of Navarro, feeling the menacing stares of each bounty hunter. You spot their tracking fobs have been reactivated, loudly beeping as they point it towards your direction. Soon enough you are surrounded by several armed bounty hunters.

You spot Greef Karga stepping into view, “Welcome back! I’m surprised to see you ask for help from our talented healer. Now put the package down.” You analyze the several bounty hunters, trying to find an escape. “Step aside. I’m going to my ship.” Mando said, and Karga softly chuckles, “You put the bounty down and perhaps I’ll let you pass and our medic can be easily forgiven, after all, she’s done for the citizens of this town.”

Mando doesn’t relent and states, “She and the kid are coming with me.” You turn to look at him in surprise that he wouldn’t just leave you here to face the consequences of your actions. “If you truly care about the kid and her, then you’ll put it on the speeder and you’ll let her walk away as if none of this ever happened and we’ll discuss terms.” An R6 astromech droid, on the speeder, turns its head.

“How do we know if we can trust you?” You asked and Karga scoffs, “Because I’m your only hope.” You watch Mando walk over to the speeder and you feel your eyes begin to fog with oncoming tears. Karga says your name, “Walk away and we’ll discuss this later.” You clench your jaw and glare at the bounty agent before turning your back toward him, and placing your hand on your blaster as you sensed it, the tingling in your spine and throughout your body.

Mando whirls around and shoots at the other bounty hunters, jumping onto a repulsorlift vehicle carrying luggage. You quickly take cover and shoot down the other bounty hunters running towards the Mandalorian and hopping onto the repulsorlift. Deep and commanding, he demands the astromech droid, “Drive!”

The droid shakes its head in disapproval and Mando raises his blaster at him, “Drive!” The astromech screeches in fear and drives the repulsorlift vehicle while you and Mando are shooting down as many bounty hunters as you can.

You aim for the sniper above and shoot while Mando covers the ground as you drive by. The astromech is shot down by Karga, you see bright yellow sparks and you hear the droid power down. You hear Mando whisper, “Are you okay?”

To which you hum and nod, “Mhm. I’m fine.”

It’s now deadly quiet as the rest of the hunters step closer toward the repulsorlift. The fork end of the amban rifle peaks through the luggage as Mando aims and blasts bounty hunters into ash. Different species groan and clamor to hide behind various objects.

“That’s one impressive weapon!” Karaga states and Mando’s voice booms as he announces, “Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna walk to my ship with her and the kid, and you’re gonna let it happen.”

“No. How about this? We take the kid and the medic, and if you try to stop us, we will kill you and we strip your body for parts.” Karga says menacingly, and suddenly you feel someone pull your leg, dragging you and you yelp out in fear and surprise.

Mando is quick to your aid, using the butt of his rifle and then shocking him with the fork of his weapon, completely stunning the first bounty hunter while you shoot down the second.

You spot the rest of the hunters advancing towards you with their weapons, firing every part of the speeder.

Greef Karga yells, “Don’t hit the target or her!” As a last resort, Mando activates his flamethrower, which causes the bounty hunters to fall back for a moment, only for it to run out of fuel. You lay down next to the Child, craning your head to the right to gaze at his peaceful sleeping form.

You feel the sudden weight of Mando hovering over you and the kid, trying to protect both of you til the end. You hear the Child coo beside you and smile in adoration.

You reach into your satchel and dig for the lightsaber hilt, readying yourself to defend Mando and the Child the moment it comes down to it. Without notice, you hear the whooshing sound of rockets streaking through the air to hit one of the bounty hunters straight through the chest. Fortunately, several fellow members of the Mandalorian Tribe, donning jetpacks and blasters, come to your aid, taking out several bounty hunters.

You watch in awe as the Mandalorians skillfully use their weapons in taking out the remaining bounty hunters, the head infantry lands close to the speeder and says, “Get out of here! We’ll hold them off!” To which Mando replies, “You’re going to have to relocate the covert.” The head infantry responds, “This is the Way.” And Mando echos back, “This is the Way.”

The firing continues and Mando carries the Child and helps to pull you up. You and the Mandalorian board the Razor Crest, but are soon cornered by Greef Karga, “Hold it right there.” You both turn to face Karga as he states, “I didn’t want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code. And you,” he turns to talk to you, “Since you’re with him they will come after you too now. And the Imps will soon follow.” You raise your chin as you steadily replied, “Let them try.”

The Mandalorian uses his grappling hook to trigger the carbonite chamber, unleashing some tibanna gas in an attempt to blind Karga. You expertly doge his attempts to shoot at you only for you to outstretch your hand, using the Force to let his weapon fly out of his hands, he stands there completely stunned and Mando uses his blaster to shoot him off of the Razor Crest.

The hatch closes and you strap yourself in, the Razor Crest takes off, watching the other Mandalorians provide covering fire through the window. You comfortably soar into the skies of Nevarro. You spot the head infantry flying beside the ship and salute him before flying off.

The Mandalorian makes a remark, “I gotta get one of those.” And you snort in amusement. The Child is seated beside his lap and is reaching for something. The Mandalorian unscrews the metal ball on the stick and gives it to him to play with before taking the Razor Crest into space.

End Notes:

YAYYYYYYYYYYYY! SPACE DAD STORY!

You are a force-sensitive empath! HORRAY! 

You can force cloak yourself because this skill tends to come to people as more of a natural talent, for it is extremely difficult to learn otherwise; thus, the reason the ability is rarely seen.

The reader is an Enneagram 2! You are a part of the Heart Center; The benevolent, embrace of the good in other people, engage in every emotional love, you experience and feel their emotions more than anyone else. Helpful, natural nurturers, understanding, generous, supportive, mistaken as the passive, embodiment of what love and embrace look like.

The Mandalorian is an Enneagram One personality type with a Nine wing. Enneagram Ones belong to the body center, along with Eights and Nines, and they naturally make decisions based on gut instinct. The Mandalorian likes to feel in control, particularly of his physical environment. For Enneagram Ones, freedom and independence are important.

SO THAT'S A GLIMPSE INTO THEIR PERSONALITY TYPE AND THE WAY THEY MAKE CHOICES! 

All will be revealed in the coming chapters! I can’t wait for you guys to read them AHHHHHH

Thank you for all the reblogs, comments, feedback, and likes! Ya’ll really are too sweet and I truly appreciate your kind words. SEE YA IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!

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