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#kinda like to think he got that one done after he gave up Grogu
dindjarinandlysakane · 10 months
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The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 34 - I need you
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When Din Djarin meets a beautiful cake seller from Nevarro, do you think he’s just going to stand back and let her suffer at the hands of her abusive boyfriend? After a lifetime of heartache and pain, Lysa Kane realises she’s not on her own any more and finds an unlikely friend in the Mandalorian. And Din Djarin does not like men who treat women like that, not one tiny bit. Friendship/comfort and maybe something more…
Masterlist
Chapter 34 - I need you
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It was late afternoon by the time Din finally emerged from his sleeper.
He had slept far longer than he had intended, but couldn’t deny that he felt refreshed after finally getting some much needed rest.
Stepping into the living area, helmet firmly back over his head, feeling more than a little disorientated. He drew the eyes of the two figures standing behind the counter of his little kitchen area.
“Patu!” came the sudden voice of Grogu, as he offered Din an excitable look. 
And Din could only give a bemused frown, noticing now that the tip of his son’s nose and the very tops of his ears, were covered in a white coating of flour.
“Afternoon,” came Lysa’s sudden warm and teasing voice, as Din’s eyes slid to hers.
Lysa’s green eyes seemed to sparkle in the late-afternoon sun. She looked so heavenly now, stood there in a long, pale lilac tunic, cleaning up the counter with a small white cloth. With Din so caught up in the sheer disappointment of his inability to track down Crix these past few days, and so worried that he had failed her. He had barely noticed what Lysa had been wearing when he had arrived back at the cabin this morning.
“Sorry,” he uttered, in a voice far huskier now than he had expected. “I slept longer than I thought.”
Lysa smiled up at him wrinkling her nose, but didn't say a word. Remaining utterly silent as she moved around the counter now and approached him.
Din felt his heart begin to hammer away inside his ribs, as she drew near.
And within a second or two she had come to stop just an inch from him. Smiling, oh-so deliciously, up at him. As though he was the only person to exist on this earth.
Din parted his lips, breathing hard, not quite sure what she was doing.
But within a moment she had raised her hand, as Din flushed profusely behind his beskar helmet, feeling her warm fingers accidentally graze his skin, as she did up the loose button on the tunic that covered his neck.
Din cursed himself for not checking that it was done up in its entirety before he had left the sleeper.
But Lysa didn't seem to mind, lowering her hand and grazing her palm over the armour plating that covered his chest as she did so.
He appreciated her discretion and subtlety now. A warm feeling growing inside the Mandalorian, at her proximity to him.
“We’ve been baking,” she said with another gentle smile, turning and nodding towards the counter behind her, to where a veritable bounty of sweet-breads, pies and loaves now sat. “Haven't we, Grogu?”
Grogu from his position on the counter beside the goods, gave a chirp of happiness, as he waddled toward the edge of the edge of the kitchen island toward Din.
The tall Mandalorian strolled towards his son, before swiping a gloved finger over his nose and the flour that lingered there.
“Looks like I missed all the fun,” Din uttered in a ragged voice, thick with sarcasm. Baking being something he was certain he would always prefer to leave to a professional like Lysa.
But Din quickly noticed Lysa shoot him a smirking look from the corner of his eye, coming to stand beside him now. Elbows resting on the counter behind her easily. Her body looking utterly perfect beneath her light tunic dress, as she posed there, Din noted. Giving a hard swallow.
“You know I’m liking this gravelly voice thing you’ve got going on,” she retorted in a playful tone, pointing at his throat and narrowing her green eyes tauntingly. “Kinda reminds me of an Anzellan. Sorta…husky, y’know?”
Her voice was teasing now, as Din turned to her, tilting his head in a faux-look of annoyance.
“An Anzellan? Really?” he swiped back, not able to stop the smirk that seemed to twitch at his lips, moving around Lysa now, until she was pinned between him and the counter at her back.
Her smile seemed to widen at this. But she did not back down. Merely giving a nod and pursing her lips.
“Oh yeah, I can really see you with one of those little white goatees,” she said sarcastically, swirling a delicate finger in the air between them.
Din couldn't help but let out a chuckle, as he looked down at her, their bodies a mere breath apart now.
From here, he could see the sweet rise and fall of her breasts beneath the bodice of her tunic, and smell the sweet heady scent that seemed to cling to her every pore. The sight and sound intoxicating him fully.
And yet, Din still was not ready to back down on their game.
Instead, leaning into her now, so much so, that he saw Lysa hitch a breath in expectantly, as he reached over her shoulder…
…only to pluck a corner chunk from a fruity sweet bread that was sat on the counter behind her. Before pulling back and allowing Lysa breathing space once more.
He looked now to see her completely flushed, her breaths seemingly ragged in her throat, as she stared up at him with dewy, parted lips. Her eyes burning with a want, that had not been there a moment before.
Din lifted his helmet a little, at an angle he knew that Lysa would be unable to see any of him, before taking a bite of the cake, feeling his heart racing as he did so.
It felt like a wild gesture. Likely nothing to anyone else, but to Din it felt reckless and flirtatious. And as he lowered his helmet once again, he saw Lysa stare at him for a long moment. Her beautiful green eyes travelling over his face. Her expression laced with curiosity.
Before she suddenly narrowed her eyes once more, giving a smirk, and reaching an arm out. Suddenly pressing her hand against his chest, pushing him to an arm’s length away.
“I should charge you for that, Din Djarin,” she said, uttering his name with a vixen-like tone to her voice.
But Din could only chuckle now, as he took a step or two back from her, raising both hands to either side of his head, in a gesture of faux-innocence. 
“You can add it to my tab,” he said with a grin, as he sauntered casually towards the door to the Refresher. Knowing full well that Lysa’s eyes were on him as he rounded the door to his washroom, the door sliding shut behind him.
Din, with the full intention of taking a very well-deserved, and very cold sonic-shower.
…………………………………
Twenty minutes later Din stepped out of the Refresher, feeling clean and well-rested finally for the first time in days.
He had changed into a fresh black tunic beneath his beskar, his mind still on the playful words shared between him and Lysa. The smirk having barely left his lips the entire time he had stood beneath his sonic shower.
With the hot jets of steam and water having soothed his burning skin and aching muscles, he entered into the living space once more, seeing Grogu helping Lysa with stirring a pan of vegetable broth ready for their supper.
Her green and twinkling eyes met with his as he strolled towards the pair of them.
“I was thinking,” she said, her voice having returned to its normal tone now. “I probably need to start making deliveries again soon.”
She smiled, wrinkling her nose as her gaze shifted to the stove in front of her.
“Otherwise someone will try and move in on my patch,” she said in a warm voice. “That… and I need the credits.”
Din noticed her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, as she avoided his eye, holding onto Grogu’s arm gently as he stirred the broth with a large wooden spoon.
It was obvious that she had been contemplating this for a little while and Din understood the need for her to try and get back to some sort of normality. But that still didn't stop Din’s stomach from dropping a little.
“Can you do it from here?” he asked suddenly, causing her to look up at him quickly, her cheeks turning even more scarlet than before. “The cooking part I mean?”
She was quiet for a moment, as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, mouthing at the air.
“I could…but this is your space. Yours and Grogu’s,” she said with a gentle smile, her eyes dropping one more to the broth. “I should probably go back to my apartment…now that Crix is off-planet.”
But Din gave an instant frown taking a step closer to her now, his gaze roving across her beautiful features.
“Is that…what you want?” he asked questioningly, causing her to look his way once more.
“No...” she said almost instantly, looking like she was breathing hard now, staring up into Din’s beskar-covered face.
Din gave a lick of his lips, not able to keep his eyes off her at this very moment in time.
“Then stay,” he uttered finally, watching as a blushing smile appeared on Lysa’s perfect face at his words.
She looked happy now, almost lighting up the room as she gazed back at him.
“Okay,” she said in just a whisper.
Din felt his chest constrict. A feeling of utter warmth consuming him.
Din knew that he didn't want to be apart from Lysa again. Not now…or in fact, ever.
He knew that deep down the longer she was with him, the harder it would be to see her leave. Enjoying the moments they spent together amongst the chaos that the past week had thrown at the pair.
Grogu gave a sweet chirp now, as the broth bubbled a little in the pan, unaware of the conversation the two adults had been having. And Din watched as Lysa turned down the heat a little, glancing up at him once more, mouth open about to speak.
But Lysa did not get the chance to utter a word, as a sudden loud beeping filled the room.
Din gave a frown, turning to where his portable comms device sat on a storage unit beside the front door, beside his Z-6 pack. The light on top flashing red with every loud beep it made.
Din made his way across the room, reaching the device as Lysa and Grogu watched him with interest.
He pressed a small grey button, answering the transmission…
…to see the face of Bo Katan staring back at him, floating as a holo before his face. 
“I need your help,” she said starkly, her voice crisp and low. “Can you come to Mandalore?”
Din hovered for a moment, chancing a glance Lysa’s way briefly, before turning back to the red-head.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked. He had only just returned from a trip off-planet, and didn't particularly relish the idea of leaving so soon again. His thoughts on Lysa and her having to spend yet more days alone here after all that had happened to her.
“Our scouts have seen what seems to be a rogue TIE-fighter in our airspace,” she explained. “And we need someone with a ship, much faster than any of ours, to track it down for us.”
Din let out a sigh. “Is there no one else that can track it? Grogu and I have only just gotten home-”
But Bo Katan gave a shake of her head. “No one with an N-1 Naboo Starfighter,” she said with a smirk. “Besides, you told me that if there was ever anything we needed-”
“I know, I know. That I’d be there-” he said, looking again to Lysa and Grogu. The former who was now, wiping at the already sparkling countertop with a damp cloth, obviously pretending she couldn't hear every word of his conversation.
Would she be as disappointed as he was, that he and Grogu would be leaving again, so soon after getting home?
If this were a less risky task he would likely ask if she wanted to come with him. The memory of her so desperately wanting to travel and see the stars once again, flitting into his consciousness.
But what Bo Katan wanted from them sounded dangerous. So this was something he would have to do, just him and Grogu. Making his mind, somewhat reluctantly.
Din looked back to Bo and huffed. “We’ll be there,” he said lifting a hand to close the comms link.
Bo Katan smiled. “Good. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
And with that she closed the transmission before Din even got the chance to, causing her face to disappear from view.
Din let out another long sigh, strolling on over to other side of the counter where Lysa was stood.
“I’m guessing you won’t be staying for dinner then,” she said, offering him a kind smile. Yet Din sensed a hint of disappointment lingering within it now.
“I’m sorry,” he replied meaningfully. “Bo Katan is the ruler of Mandalore. Our homeworld. I made her a promise that she will always receive my loyalty, and for that I’m bound to help her when she needs it.”
Lysa blinked several times, her mouth opening as a sudden look of realisation appeared on her pretty features.
“So…a-are you and her…?”
Din’s eyes suddenly widened behind his beskar helmet.
“No,” he replied in an instant. Likely quicker than he should have.
But Din now wanted to make it clear now that there was nothing between him and Bo Katan.
His heart focused on someone far closer to home, despite her likely not even realising it. 
“As leader of Mandalore, I would follow her to the ends of this Galaxy. But she’s not….we’re not….”
Lysa nodded hurriedly. “Of course…” she said, offering him a bright smile, a look of relief that matched Din’s, now flitting onto her face. “I was just, y’know…” she gave a visible swallow, “...curious, is all.”
Din felt his shoulders relax, his lips twitching up into a prideful grin behind his mask.
Grogu peered up at the two adults, chirping as he pointed towards the broth in the pan before him.
At this, Lysa chewed on her lip for a second. “Well if you're going to leave again, let me at least send you off with some food to take with you.”
And with that she took a step back and bent her head, searching in a low cupboard. Before pulling out a metal flask, some cups and a tiered metal container and beginning to bustle about decanting bread, cake and portions of broth into the containers.
Din watched as she worked for a moment or two, before turning to gather a few items he needed to take with him and Grogu, while she was distracted.
Din had never been one for many possessions when he travelled, but knew that he would need to ensure his weapons were all present and he had enough ammo in case things got hairy.
Not even five minutes later, having collected together everything he needed, including his jet pack and his blasters, by the front door to the cabin, beside the now-full cartons of food. Din moved back over to where Lysa was standing beside the long kitchen island in the centre of the room. Grogu, who was already at Din’s feet now, waiting patiently, gave a gurle as he watched the adults with interest.
Lysa smiled at Din, as the tall Mandalorian came to stop just a foot or so away from her. A moment hanging in the air between them. Something warm and oh-so welcome.
Din knew he didn't want to leave, and also sensed that Lysa did not want him to go either.
She looked as lovely as ever now, her long wavy golden hair tied back from her face now by two thin golden braids. The smooth skin of her collarbone reflecting the sunlight that shone in from the viewport behind him.
To Din she looked like a mirage.
A dream.
And Din could only stare back at her, his heart constricting in his chest.
He worried that despite their conversation earlier, that by him flying off-planet once more, Lysa would choose to leave. To go back to her apartment, and leave his cabin once and for all, not wanting to spend another day here alone.
“We’ll be home in a day or so with any luck,” he said in a low, hushed voice through his modulator. “Just…stay. Don't leave.”
But Lysa just smiled a beautiful smile, as she took another small step into Din now, closing the gap between them completely.
“Just come back as soon as you can,” she whispered now, her words full of meaning as she spoke. 
And with that, she pressed a hand to his beskar-covered chest, staring up at him, licking at her lips in a way that caused Din’s eyes to linger at her mouth momentarily. 
“It’s getting harder and harder to be apart from you,” she continued, blinking up at him through long lashes.
Dank farrik.
Din wanted to kiss her now. More than he had ever wanted something in his life.
And right now, Din knew that Lysa wanted that too.
He could see her now, breathing hard, eyes sultry and full of desperation.
But before he could say even another word, Lysa had leaned herself into him, her face suddenly lingering close to his beskar helmet.
“...I need you, Din,” she uttered in what was barely a whisper, pulling back slightly as she slid her palm lower against his chest.
And Din felt his entire body react as her hand came to rest on the space just above his belt, her gaze never leaving his face.
Both adults knowing the true intention behind those words. A declaration of something far more than company and friendship now…
Din felt his entire body becoming hot, his breaths becoming hard and ragged in his throat…his body reacting to her touch. 
Arousal flooding his veins like a drug.
And Lysa didn't look like she was faring much better, her pupils now dilated, her ample chest rising and falling hard with each needy breath she took.
Dank.
Din wanted her.
He wanted her badly. It taking all his effort not to fling off his helmet and take her right here, right now. Both his mind and his body practically urging him on to do just that.
But, as if on cue, as though trying to remind the two adults that he was still there, there came a sudden loud chirp from their feet. causing Lysa and Din to break from their moment.
Lysa retracted her hand suddenly from Din, taking a sudden step back as Din did the same, both sets of eyes travelling down… to see Grogu staring up at the pair of them.
Din gave a sudden heavy sigh.
“Kid…” he groaned meaningfully, shaking his head, as he glanced back up to see Lysa looking his way.
She was biting on her lip, a laughing smile painted onto her flushed face.
She seemed to stare at him for a long moment, her pretty green eyes roving across his obscured face.
Before she suddenly leaned in, placing her hands to either side of his beskar helmet, standing on her tip toes..
…pressing her lips to his visor in a gentle kiss- just for a moment. Before pulling away once more.
Immediately she turned from him, going back to clearing the spotless counter. A smile still lingering on her face.
And Din could only stare after her for a long few seconds, his heart thundering inside his puffed up chest, before he turned slowly on his heel and heading for the door wordlessly, as Grogu followed…
…unable to help the beaming smirk that lingered on his own lips as he went.
……..
@its5-15wakeup @thecraftyartist @crazypaine @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @marysucks-blog @siimiasoi @livinxdeadxgrl
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intricatecakes · 3 years
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darthmaulification · 2 years
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i fear you close by, i love you far away | din djarin x reader
A/N: sooo... y’all really ate that one accidental marriage proposal ask, so here’s a part two. 😁 it got a little messy, but hey— we live, laugh, love in this household. also, grogu definitely acts younger in this, like he’s kinda Baby Infant.
(title is a quote from thus spoke zarathustra by friedrich nietzsche)
hope you enjoy! kiitos ja kippis! 💗
summary: he’s held your blaster for five months. unbeknownst to him, he’s had your heart for even longer. 
content: angst with a happy ending, two idiots in love, gn!reader, soft! din, pining, awkwardness, brief miscommunication, self doubt, idk when this is in canon before they know grogu’s name ig, love confessions, happy ending
word count: 4,158
Maybe it’s your dad’s fault that you’re so non-confrontational, because there’s no way this can all be you. No... he had anger issues and a big mouth, he was definitely confrontational. Maybe your mother then? No, she could speak her mind and had enough lip on her that got her into trouble every other week.
A frustrated sigh escapes you, both because you’re kicking yourself for being a doofus about The Situation at Hand, and because the wrench slips off the bolt and slams into the metal wall of the Razor Crest with a clang. The wires hidden behind it started mysteriously smoking a while ago, and you had offered to check out the problem, but Din and his amazingly bad mechanics had to act all chivalrous and he ended up “fixing” it himself.
Of course, he didn’t fix squat and the panel leaked smoke again not long after, so that finally managed to banish Din up in the cockpit to wallow in his hurt ego as you took up the task this time. Though it’s easier said than done, and you don’t know how the Mando did it, but he’s managed to screw in the bolts so tight that the first wrench actually broke when you tried removing them.
Now you’re on the spar, and the stupid, measly bolts that Din screwed back in are virtually impossible for you to pry out.
“Stupid, idiot Mandalorian...” You grit your teeth, aligning the wrench (which doesn’t fix perfectly with this type of bolt, but it’s the only one left) and using all the strength you can muster in your noodle arms to tug at Din’s horrible, horrible handiwork.
Speaking of that beskar clad devil, you hear him up in the cockpit, low murmurs floating into the crawl space you’re currently squished in. He’s probably talking to the baby, probably using that low, sweet voice he does that he adamantly gaslights you into thinking he doesn’t do, and your heart swoons. Then, you shut down that little parade before it gets out of hand and starts making you hurt again.
But, like every other time, you’re too late and the heart sickness nestles itself deep in your chest in a place you can’t reach to swipe it away.
Resigning yourself to wistful thoughts yet again, you bring the wrench back up to the bolt and start twisting. Muscles strained and bolt unmoving, you listen past the blood pumping in your ears to hear Din move about somewhere above you. His footfalls, heavy, familiar, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to after working with him for nearly a year. 
The wrench slips again, the bolt remains, tears prick the backs of your eyeballs even though you beg them not to.
At first he was stony, he was Mando; distant and cold in a way that you remember feeling distinctly put off by him. He was rude, and short-tempered (though he never really got that angry with you), and had enough blood on his hands to stain his skin— But so were you, and so did you, and that’s what made you stick around and put up with his crap, because Din did the same with you, and because you knew he was so much more than he let on.
You caught the tenderness he treated others less fortunate than him with, like that time on Jakku when he gave a young, brown-haired girl some credits for food, or helping an entire village like he did on Sorgan with Omera and Cara, or every other favor he’s done for another. Din never had to extend his time, energy, and even heart to others, but he did, and that’s how you knew, even past the cold exterior, that the man has a kind soul. A giving one at that.
It’s even more noticeable with the... baby, whatever the little green bean is, that Din has a soft heart behind the cool beskar case. When he’s explained to you how the little one even came into his possession, it changed your perspective on the bounty hunter forever.
He’s not just another self-serving person in this greedy, cruel galaxy— No. Din is righteous and honorable, he’s kind, willing to help, smart, resourceful, and for as much as he’ll joke about you all dying every time the Crest’s hyperdrive falters mid-leap, and he has to reboot the system in the middle of an asteroid belt, Din is the sweetest man you’ve ever met.
This time, when the wrench slips again (actually denting the wall this time, hooray), you’re so lost reminiscing you don’t even care.
And then you saved his life— only once, and compared to how many times he saved your skin— but it was enough. All it had been, about four months into knowing him, was tossing him your extra, shitty blaster (that you didn’t even know still worked, but had faith) in the heat of a skirmish. And it was enough. 
That’s even when he stopped being just Mando to you, and you learned him to be Din. Din Djarin. He has such a lovely name, and the way he said it the first time sticks to your memory like a fly to sugar paper.
You look up when he moves again in the cockpit, footfalls close enough to the ladder that you hastily wipe away your tears just in case. He’s never seen you cry before (not counting times you’ve been injured, that’s different) and you certainly don’t want him to see you now, like this, and for him to ask, “What’s the matter?” because what would you even tell him?
Nothing, you’d say. You wouldn’t say a thing.
~
Din should probably go down and tell you how he feels. And... maybe if he doesn’t do that this time, he should at least go help with repairs. He stands up from the pilot’s chair, takes a few steps towards the ladder, then walks back and sits down again. No... you wouldn’t want him helping with anything, especially considering the only reason you’re fixing it is because he did a piss poor job the last time.
Which Din does recognize he did a really shit job and should have let you repair the wires in the first place.
But he didn’t because he doesn’t want you to need to do anything— Not when he’s around, not when he can do it, because he wants to do everything for you—
Din shakes his head, and the baby squeals when the light bounces of the chrome, tiny hands clapping in excitement. Din turns his attention to where he’s nestled in his carrier, a chuckle passing his lips in a huff. The child’s wide-eyed, inky stare bores into him, and Din can’t help but think that somehow the little baby is able to see right past the visor and the beskar straight into Din’s soul.
Maybe he can, considering all the other magical things Din’s seen him do.
“You laughing at me, kid?” Din murmurs, reaching over and gently rubbing one of the kid’s long, velvety ears, to which soft coos are the result. His three finger tiny hands grasp at Din’s wrist, pulling at his gloves and sleeves. Din flips his palm so that the baby can place his hand in his, and like the ad’ika does, smacks his palm as hard as he can muster against Din’s in tiny pats.
“Mm. And now you’re beating me up? How cruel.” Din uses his other hand to gently guide the kid’s hands away, and tiny fingers wrap around Din’s pointer finger. Inside him, Din feels his heart skip a beat and warmth floods in his chest, the kid gripping him so tight like a lifeline. For a split second, the all-too familiar regret rears its head, but the kid looks up at him with a toothy smile and it all recedes like the tide.
“Verd’ika.” Din calls the little green alien, prying his hand away (with some effort) to turn back to the console of the Razor Crest. There’s nothing to do, pressing buttons and flipping switches provides enough distraction to keep Din’s thoughts focused away from The Situation at Hand.
Except, not really, because in no time flat he’s pulled the blaster you’d given him out of the holster on his shin, and is just cradling it in his hands like a baby bird. The thing’s tiny, fits perfectly in his palms, and is lightweight but still a loaded, weighty weapon. A few of it’s silver edges are either rusted or just dirtied, but Din doesn’t care because it’s perfect.
He flips it over, holds it in one hand like he’s about to fire it, rests his pointer finger along it’s smooth barrel. Even though he’s had it for five months now, every time he removes it from the custom holster he got for it, it still is like the blaster pistol sets ablaze as a mini star in the palm of his hands.
And you gave it to him. You did.
There’s no way you could’ve known the weight of that decision— ancient Mandalorian courtship rules, ritual, vows, and then eventually riduurok— but every single day since Din’s been wanting to tell you.
He wants you to know that even from the beginning, for as much as he acted like an ass and was probably the biggest douche in the galaxy, that he’s smitten with you. From your wit to even your sometimes unbearable sharp tongue, Din thinks you’re the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful person he’s ever met. And he’s thought that for months, and now he carries your pistol.
Off to his side, the baby coos curiously, beckoning his attention. Din turns and sees the child lift his small arms in a gesture that very clearly says “Up”. As he stands, a low groan escaping him, Din slides the blaster smoothly back into its holster, where it’s weight is grounding like an anchor holding down a ship.
“Okay, bud. Let’s go see if the ship’s not broken anymore.” Din says as he picks up the green child, letting the kid snuggle against the cool beskar of his cuirass. His gloved fingertips rub circles on the baby’s wrinkly forehead, and the little one coos, his big eyes going droopy. Din huffs a laugh, then makes his way towards the ladder, to the hull of the Crest— to you— and each step feels like wading through shallow water.
~
You manage to get one bolt undone. Out of six. How you’re going to get out the other five when the first one’s left you winded, breathless, and aching— You don’t know. To make matters worse, being cramped in such a small space has left your knees and hips sore, your back pinched, and you’ve kept accidentally hitting your left elbow on the ground, so now your funny bone’s gone off the walls in pain a couple of times.
“Fuck.” You say to yourself, squirming a little and freeing your legs out from under you, groaning when your knees pop when you stretch. It must be a sight to look at you right now, halfway in a tiny hole in the wall, just your boots sticking out like a sore thumb. The hilarity dawns on you, and you let your head fall against your arm, laughing softly.
“Jeez.” A long sigh passes your lips, and you shake your head as the amusement wears off and the heartache seeps back in all over again. It’s been like this for months, moments of happy clarity away from the all-encompassing, all-consuming yearning you feel for Din. It’s hard being in such close quarters— living with— the man you just... want.
He is up in the cockpit, really only a few steps away, you can tell him now— it’s not like he’s launching the Crest into hyperdrive, or needs all his attention to evade some sort of dogfight he’s gotten you all into. No, Din is just in the cockpit, talking to the baby, and you going up there wouldn’t be a distraction to a dire problem. And it’s not like The Situation at Hand is a distraction— Maker, this is you wanting to tell Din over and over again I love you, will you be my boyfriend, I love you, you’re so sweet to me, and hot too—
“Hey?” Din’s voice sounds directly behind you, and you jump— with the motion, accidentally hit the top of your cranium on the tiny crawl space’s ceiling and it’s immediately white hot pain. Din curses, you curse and drop the wrench, the baby cheers thinking it’s a game, and your poor head screams. You shuffle out, one hand gripping your throbbing head, the other pushing you free, and muttering, “Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow.”
When you’re finally released from your metal cage, Din’s hand find your elbow and he helps you to your feet. The shift in altitude plus the headache you feel coming on has you dizzy, and your feet stumble and then you find yourself falling into Din’s chest. He grunts, steadying you, and the cool beskar against your suddenly very hot cheek is pleasant.
“S-Sorry.”
“Sorry!”
You both say at the same time, yours a flustered shout and his an awkward mutter. The two of you push away from one another, Din shifting the baby on his hip as you straighten out your shirt and fix your pants— Distraction, awkward, awkward distraction.
“Are you, uh, you okay?” He asks with a cough, setting the child down next to his feet. The kid smacks at Din’s boots, then turns his attention to you with a soft, curious hum. You give the little green bean a pained smile, stilling rubbing at your head.
“Yeah, yeah— I’m okay, Din.” You start, waving a nonchalant hand and trying your damnedest to not focus on your burning cheeks and hoping Din isn’t either, and also the pain in your noggin, “I’m okay.”
“I uh— Sorry, again. I startled you and now you’re hurt—” Din cuts himself off, and the amount of sheer, pure guilt in his tone instantly makes you feel bad about bumping your own head. Especially since Din’s shoulders sag, and he gets all closed in on himself and stiff like he does when he’s upset. You shake your head wildly, gesturing with both hands, open palm.
“No! No need to feel bad, I’m good.” Offering Din your trademark bright smile doesn’t seem to lighten the mood like it usually does, and he looks down and away, his inky black visor glinting in the light. The change in behavior is... peculiar, to say the least, because Din’s never been one to act... sad before.
Or maybe he has, in his own way, and you’ve just never noticed. Why is it so easy to feel guilty?
“What’s wrong, Din?” You ask quietly, concern lacing as you reach down to pick up the child, who’d been pulling at your pant leg. Giving him a quick smile, you turn your attention back to the Mandalorian in front of you, who looks suddenly so forlorn it’s startling. 
“It’s... nothing. Nothing.” Din replies, voice despondent and low, sounding so defeated, and he lightly shakes his head. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn a low sigh— sounding a lot like a curse, but in a foreign tongue— passed through his modulator on an exhale. He looks back up at you, straightening his posture, then away again, off to some faraway place only he’s able to see.
“Oh. Okay.” There’s a creeping uncertainty that starts to grip you, like when you know something bad is about to happen, or there’s signs that you’re about to receive really terrible news. Speaking of, your heart drops a bit when you remember why you were even stuck in a hole in the first place, and that the job didn’t go as planned.
“I, um, wasn’t able to fix the wires.” You say lamely, feeling utterly useless, and you gesture with your chin behind you, “The bolts... gave me trouble.”
“Oh. Okay.” Din echoes your earlier words just as lamely, and you really can’t pinpoint if he’s disappointed or upset with you, but it doesn’t really matter. The fact you couldn’t do your damn job is what irritates you beyond belief, and has made you uncomfortable aware of how... unimportant you feel to the whole equation.
This time, not even The Situation at Hand can distract you from the reality that it’s really Din that does everything. He chases bounties, makes credits, pilots the ship, does all the talking, does... it all. Why does he even need you here?
“Am I getting fired?” You blurt out in spite of yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth the second the words stop tumbling from it. Din perks out of surprise at that, both motions startling the baby, who makes a noise of displeasure. You hastily transfer him to your hip and bounce him a few times, attempting to calm him down, but the rising tension in the small atmosphere doesn’t help.
“What?” Din says, utterly astonished by your presumption, but your thoughts are racing too quickly to pick up on his astounded tone, nor the way his entire posture jumps like he’s ready for sudden action. The Mandalorian steps closer to you, hesitantly lifting a hand with intentions to place it on your shoulder, but he pauses when you speak again.
“Fired. Like “Sayōnara sweetheart” or “See you” or “Your butt’s out the door” or—” The ramblings stumble in your mouth and you choke over your words until they’re just unintelligible noises of exasperation. The kid’s started to fuss a bit more and you pass him over to Din out of habit, and when your knuckles brush Din’s vambraces you recoil like you’ve been burned. Pulling your arms tight over your chest, you hug yourself to stop the trembling that’s started make you shake as if you’ve gotten the chills.
“I know that I’m not a fighter, I’m barely an engineer, and I don’t help on hunts— So I get it, I guess, that you’d wanna... cut me loose.” Blinking rapidly to restrain unwanted, frustrated tears only makes them harder to hold at bay, plus the unhappy noises of the kid you feel you’ve upset, and Din’s ever-present, complete silence only indicates the worst in your mind.
“I’m sorry— I still get it, don’t worry— but I’m also sorry.” You say briskly, shaking your head and dropping your gaze, because how could you be so dumb, and why did the Maker have to curse you to fall in love with your employer?
“Cyar’ika, I’m— I’m not— Firing you?— No.” Din stutters, and he’s multitasking at trying to still make the kid relax (who’s squirming and fussing in his arms) and also trying to say the right words, and also trying not to hyperfixate on the tears on your lashes, but he can’t, and it makes him feel all tangled up inside. Tangled up in the bad way, not like he felt before when he thought of you and The Situation at Hand.
At his words, you look up, equal parts hopeful, unbelieving, and somewhat embarrassed. If he really wasn’t about to fire you, then maybe you should just hang your head and quit, because the episode you just had was probably the most humiliating thing you’ve done in a while. With your mind almost malfunctioning and your face burning, you ask tentatively, “You... You aren’t gonna fire me?”
The kid’s been kinda screaming the whole time, so you’re a bit surprised when Din seems to hear you perfectly, and his visored gaze locks on to yours like a targeted missile. He shakes his head, just twice, and the whole time, even though you can’t see his eyes, you feel them pierce into you.
“Never. Not in a million lifetimes.” Din replies and his voice is filled with so much conviction, so much honesty, that you instantly believe them to be true.
“Soo... I just had an emotional breakdown for nothing?” You ask dryly, wide-eyed, and following Din’s hands as he pats the kid’s back comfortingly and the baby stops squirming and screeching as loud as he was.
pat, pat, pat.
“A little bit.” He huffs a small laugh, so low that the breath almost doesn’t catch on his modulator and comes out as a single staticky crackle. You blink, and the tears resting on your waterline fall. Accidentally, is all— for no reason, of course. The kid smacks Din on his visor.
smack!
“Soo... you were all weird and solemn and not looking at me for nothing?” Din jerks at that, shifting on his feet defensively, glancing away before turning back to you. You decide to hyperfixate on how the silver of his beskar glints and gleams, and at the cooing green baby with his adorably big ears, and not the tightness in your chest.
“Hey! Well— I—” He starts, then stops, then tries starting again, “I just— you, me— We make a... good team?”
Din trails off his stumbling words to a half-statement that sounds a lot more like a question. He’s quiet for a while, seeming to mess with the baby’s beige robes and his cape instead of continuing. 
“Yeah?” You pry, and Din finally seems to tire of your shared “bundle of joy”, shifting him in his arms a little, but that only has the green alien squirming again. Din huffs a sigh and says something in a language you don’t understand.
“I just think...” Din sets the kid down and the little squirt wanders off, then he straightens up and clears his throat. Something changes in him, a newfound confidence that blossoms in his chest like the unfurling of roses in spring, a courage that ignites him to the bone. You can tell, from the way his shoulders set, to how his head tilts and the light reflects off of him in a kaleidoscope of rays and shadows.
In two more steps he closes the gap between the two of you, his tattered cape swishing near his knees. You have to crane your neck to look up at him. 
It’s the most... intimate he’s ever gotten with you. The closeness of his body like a moon obscuring the sun during a solar eclipse, Din fills your entire view. His helmet tilts down until his visor is locked with your doe-eyed stare, and to your utter, immense surprise, he lifts a hand to slowly— carefully— caress your cheek. His leather-gloved knuckles are as gentle on your skin as a butterfly’s wing.
“I just think we could be... more.” He whispers and its so faint that you barely hear it, let alone let it register and process in your mind. A tiny voice inside your heart sings, and it’s that stupid swooning sensation that swirls in your chest, and it’s the wistful thoughts, and the heat in your cheeks, and The Situation at Hand seems less like a situation and more like destiny.
“Yeah?” You don’t know how else to reply, not when Din cradles your face in his palm and glides his thumb up and down your cheek. Half unconsciously, you press into his touch, desperate for his warmth, the semi-roughness of frayed leather, and the smell of blaster residue on his fingertips. He swallows hard and goes stiff like he does when he doesn’t know what to do.
You do though, and you reach up to place your hand on the bottom rim of his helmet, fingers resting atop the beskar’s trim edges and flat planes. The metal’s smooth, cool, and also Din. His other hand grips your wrist, and you’d almost think he’s worried you’d try to remove his helmet— break his Creed— but instead his fingers are only an anchor to hold you in place, and to not let you go. 
“I think I’d like that. Being... more, that is.” You respond softly, and from beneath his helmet, you feel Din hitch a breath, then sigh, long and happy. It’s at moments like these you so yearningly want to see the look on his face— not the beskar, but the man beneath.
“I’d like that too.” He rumbles, the smile in his voice potent, and it’s then you realize he’s so close to you, your chest brushes against his cuirass. The inky visor foggy at the bottom from your exhales, and you focus so hard on it that it’s almost as if you can see the eyes underneath. 
“Close your eyes. Please.” Din rasps, his voice almost shaking and desperate, and you do, plunging your world into darkness. All noise seems to fade away— the sounds of the Crest, metal rattling, the kid somewhere eating something he shouldn’t— and then there’s movement from the abyss, a soft hiss of escaping air, breath on your face.
“Din, what are you—”
And then his lips are on yours.
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lordabovehelpme · 3 years
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Injured- Din Djarin x Reader
Request: Well, everyone sees Din as Grogu's father and they even tell him, but one day Reader tells him that too and Din says "Yes, he has a father but he doesn't have a mother... yet" and looks directly at Reader 👀*heart eyes, motherf* - @along-the-lines-of-space
A/n: Hon! This is such a cute idea!!! I kinda went a different direction with it, but if you want me to do it again, totally tell me! Love ya! 
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You can hear the hatch open, signifying the mandalorians return. Climbing down the ladder you watch as he drags the quarry to the carbonite freezer. But he moves slower than usual, almost as if he is stuck in his own world.
As soon as the quarry is frozen the mandalorian collapses onto the ground. The harsh clank of metal on unforgiving metal ringing through the hull. He groans and shifts to lay on his side. Gasping you rush to his side. “Mando?”
You pull his head onto your lap and look down into his visor. He grumbles and nuzzles into your thighs.
“Mando, what happened?” You gasp again when you notice a growing pool of blood below his knee. “What happened?” This time you say it louder, needing to hear his answer.
“Quarry… explosive… didn’t notice.” He turns his helmet further into your thighs and his breaths starts to even out.
“No no no, come on. Stay with me.” But, your pleads mean nothing to him. If it weren't for the fact that he is bleeding out, you would laugh at how funny his snores sound in the vocoder. Cursing, your mind starts to work out a plan. You take his head in your hands and wiggle from beneath him. Placing your elbows under his armpits you struggle to pull him over to the bunk.
Rushing to the fresher, you grab a bowl of water and a couple washcloths. You had already gave up on lifting the beast of a man up onto the bunk, so you’ve grabbed blankets and pillows and placed them around him.
Making sure he is still asleep, you start to take his leg armor off. Cringing, you realize that there is no way to treat his wound with his pants on. You sigh, “Forgive me, but you’ll die if I don’t.” Slowly you unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. Heat rises to your cheeks and you bite your lip, giving one last look at the mandalorians visor, you pull his pants down.
You curse at the length of his wound, it travels down from the middle of his thigh to below his knee. “Okay, prepared to be healed.” Dunking the washcloth in the bowl, you start to clean the wound as best as you can. You’re gentle yet firm as you scrub away the already dried blood.
As soon as you’re content with your cleaning job, you grab some bandages and start to wrap his leg. It’s now that you fully realize how exposed your mandalorian is. His pants pulled down to his ankles and his beautiful tan skin exposed for your gaze.
You would think he would be smaller without the bulky armor, but it’s almost as if he has become larger. The air no longer flows in and out of your lungs, it suffocates you with his natural spicy scent.
He groans and you shrink, afraid for when he wakes up. Thankfully, he stays asleep. Sighing, you shake your head and try to run from your improper thoughts. Grabbing a bacta shot, you tap the end, getting rid of air bubbles, and inject the medicine into his meaty thigh.
Taking his pants off all together you fold them and toss them into a corner. You grab another blanket and drape it across his form, giving him some much needed dignity. Trying to make him even more comfortable, you take the rest of his armor off, leaving him in his underclothes and helmet.
You tuck the blanket around him and make sure his head is supported by the pillow. However, when you go to walk away your heart tugs at you. You get a nasty feeling that as soon as you leave, he’ll wake up in a worse state. Weighing your options you eventually lay down next to him.
His soft snores are faint but they soothe your anxiety of him being dead. Slowly, you shimmy towards him. It’s cold in the ship and you can feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. Biting your lip, you lift the blanket and snuggle up against his side, mindful of his leg.
He should be okay for now; or you hope so. The warmth radiating off of his body is starting to make you sleepy. You look up at his chin, admiring the hair that has started to grow underneath his chin, obviously it's been a few days since he’s shaved. Snapping back down to look at his covered chest, you curse at yourself so being so plain with your ogling.
You close your eyes and nuzzle into his chest, succumbing to your slumber.
***
Thrashing limbs and groans wake you up. “Cyare.”
“Hey hey hey.” Your eyes beg to stay closed but you stay awake and sit up. His hands grab at you. “It’s okay, don’t move, you’ll exhaust yourself.”
“Cyare…” His head leans back down on the pillow.
“Hey big boy.” You rub small circles on the back of his hands. “Stay here, I am going to go get some water.” He grumbles something, but you’re already up and walking over to the kitchen area. Filling the bowl back up, you also grab a glass for him.
Sitting back down near him you peel the blanket back. In a panic, the mandalorian reaches down to cover himself.
“Sorry, I had to take your pants off to get to it.” He doesn’t say anything. “Alright… I um got you some water. Let me just rewrap this and then I’ll leave you.” He still stays silent. You frown as you realize that the bandages are already bloody again; must have been from him moving. “Mando, I’m gonna need you to not wake up in tizzy fits anymore, you’re just opening the wound back up.”
You unwrap the bloody bandages and wet a washcloth, then begin to clean it again. He hisses when you press it to his body.
“Sorry… sorry.”
“It’s okay.” One of those warm palms grabs your hip and rubs your skin.
“Okay, this is going to hurt, but you’ll feel much better in about ten minutes.” You grin as you hold up a bacta shot. As you poke it into his thigh, the hand squeezes your hip. “All done, now it’s time to wrap it up, okay?” The hand gives you a couple squeezes.
After you finish wrapping the wound, you pull the blanket back over his form and go to get up. “Cyare, stay.”
You cup his helmet. “I can’t, you need to drink some water.”
“Turn around.”
Giving him an apprehensive look, you follow his command and turn around. One hand stays tracing circles on your hip, while you can hear the other shuffle around. The glass clinks as he sets it back down and the hand on your hip tugs you back towards him.
“You can look now cyare.” You turn back around. “Come here, m’ tired.” He lifts the blanket and his arm, creating a perfect space for your body. Succumbing to his offer, you snuggle up into side. His arm settles down around your shoulders and his fingertips graze across your skin.
***
It’s become routine for the two of you. Every couple hours you’ll unwrap and redress his wound. Then you give him a bacta shot and within ten minutes the stoic mandalorian no longer has a filter. This time being no different. However, he was complaining about the pain so you gave him the shot before dressing the wound again.
“Cyare.”
“Mhm?”
“Am I going to die? I feel like I am going to die.”
Biting back your laughter, you play along. “You can’t die on me, you have a son to take care of. What would he do without his father?”
“Yes, he has a father, but no mother...yet.” His visor tilts to look at you, his voice lower than usual.
Raising your eyebrows, you continue to wrap his wound, “Mm, is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“Well where are you going to find this special lady?”
His hand reaches up and cups your face. “She’s right here. And she’s quite pretty too.”
Your eyes snap to meet his visor. No, that can’t be right, it’s the bacta that's talking. “Alright, hot shot.”
Under his helmet he frowns. “No cyare, I’m serious.” His hand drops from your face to grab at your hand. “Wanna have children with you. Want you to be the mother of my kids. Wanna wake up and be able to kiss you.”
Your mouth is opening and closing, you probably look like a fish out of water, but you don’t care about that right now. You can’t even start to gather your thoughts, they’re moving too fast for you to even process them.
After a few minutes of you just staring you finally start to form words. But his soft snores are the only thing he offers.
***
The spot next to you is cold when you wake up. Panic rips through your body as you shoot up and search for the mandalorian.
A deep chuckle sounds from behind you, “I’m right here cyare.” You turn around and spot him sitting on a chair, thighs spread wide as he keeps his injured leg straight. He has a pair old black shorts on, that are way too short for your mind to comprehend.
“Why… when did you get up?” Your rub at your eyes, trying to shake away your sleep.
“I felt better, and I was hungry. Did you sleep good?”
“Ummm… yeah.” Suddenly all of what he said earlier comes back to you, making heat flow to your cheeks.
Almost as if he understands what you were saying, he leans over and sets his elbows on his knees. “Listen, cyare… I’m sorry for what I said-”
“Did you mean it?” You interpret him before you can stop yourself. Cringing at your abruptness you peer down at the blanket and start to play with the edge.
“What?” He genuinely sounds confused.
“Did, did you mean it? Um, what you said?” The thread that you have been picking at has become even more interesting.
“Cyare, look at me.” He reaches out and his index finger lifts your chin. You let him and finally meet his visor, fighting back the part in you that begs for you to run away. “I am sorry for being so blunt, but I did.”
You nod, not totally processing what he said yet. “Oh.” His hand brushes away the stray hair that fell in your face. Then it finally hits you, “Oh!” Shuffling closer to him, he brushes your hair. “Well you know… I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You grin up at him and he chuckles.
Standing up you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him. He pulls you close, slotting his helmet into the space between your shoulder and neck.
“But let’s take it slow, okay?”
“Of course cyare.”
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I hope you liked it! As always, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! 
Love, Lordy :) 
Masterlist 
Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty​ 
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"Hello, beautiful" - Din Djarin x Mandalorian!reader
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Summary: You had pushed Din away when he had needed you most. You had pushed him away when he had felt like he failed. But the truth was that you had failed him. (Set during Season 2 Episode 7/8) Requested by Anon: "Hi, I love your writing!! Could you do a fluff/angst oneshot with a Mandalorian reader where they see each other’s faces for the first time? Thank you!" - Thank you so much, hun! I hope you like how this turned out. I had a lot of fun writing this lil piece!  Warning: heavy angst and hurt, violence but only briefly mentioned, reader is acting like a bit of a shebs’palon (but they apologize and make up), you and Din speak Mando'a (Translations at the end)  Category: angst, fluffy ending (it ended up a lot more angsty than I anticipated, sorry!!)  Words: about 3.600 Notes: No use of (Y/N) and gender-neutral (if I missed something regarding gender please tell me and I’ll fix it) Also, kinda established relationship? At least a platonic one. Note 2: You're a Mandalorian that grew up in the same covert as Din. It won't be mentioned in this fic but you are/were as clueless as Din about other Mandalorians and their way of living.  Note 3: I think I gave myself whiplash from the title and the summary of this fic. They don't seem to match but I couldn't figure out what else to name this story, asgscgeh just bear with me. 
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"Hello, beautiful" - Din Djarin x Mando!reader
Back then when you had boarded the Razor Crest you didn't know the man flying it. You have seen him before but you didn't know him. However, you knew what he had to do and you knew you would accompany him, help him, be there for him and the little one. You never expected for all this to happen. You never expected to care so deeply for him and the kid. Maybe that was the reason why you had reacted the way you did. Maybe that was why it had hurt so much. But all that didn't excuse your words or actions. All that didn't make it any easier when the time came to let go.
Your mind was clouded ever since what happened on Tython. Whenever you closed your eyes, all you saw was Grogu in the grips of one of these dark troopers. All you saw were his big eyes staring at you when he got taken away. All you could think about was how you weren't fast enough to save him. How you failed. And you knew Din felt the same. He blamed himself, too. You knew it the moment you had taken his hand in your own. You felt it in the stiffness of his fingers that tightly curled around yours, seeking comfort, something to ground himself to. You were his pillar of strength just as much as he was yours in that moment. When you tilted your head his visor was as blank as usual, just like your own, but you knew. You saw the sadness in him. And it broke your heart even more. You stayed close to him during the flight to Nevarro, when you went to pick up Mayfeld and on the flight to Morak, too. You two gave each other comfort and strength. But that changed when Din returned from the imperial base on Morak.  "Can I talk to you?" You slightly turned your helmet to the side to glance at Din who was standing beside you, his hands closed to fists and his arms stiffly pressed to his sides. He hadn't talked, let alone looked at you since he had returned from that imperial base. You had suspected that something must have happened, something that Din didn't want to talk about. But now that he was approached you in such an uncertain und uncomfortable manner you knew that something was very wrong. You straightened up and nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way to a more private corner of the Slave I. Din didn't waste a single second and began walking into one of the small sleeping chambers that had just enough room for the two of you to stand in. The moment door closed behind you without a sound you suddenly felt the tension in the air heavily on your shoulders. However, you tried to not let it show, put on a brave face and crossed your arms before your chest. You stood completely still but behind your dark visor your eyes flickered over Din's form, trying to figure something, anything out. Even though you had been a part of the covert for all your life and could read the body language of other Mandalorians fairly easy, you still struggled with Din sometimes. He had always been a mystery to you and you had only really got to know him after you helped him escape from Nevarro with Grogu. Before that you had rarely walked into each other and when you did you always just nodded at each other in greeting, never sharing a word until you had boarded the Razor Crest that night. And even though you and Din had grown rather close during your time on his ship you never really got a hang of it, of him. You had no idea what he wanted to talk to you about, you had no idea what was wrong. When he didn't turn around to meet your hidden eyes with his own visor you grew a little anxious, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't unlike Din to hesitate before talking, he always seemed to consider his words before speaking up. But he had never ignored you before, he had never avoided your gaze before. And that hurt more than you thought it ever could. You only knew him for a considerably short time but the thought that he was pushing you away was clenching your heart so tightly it made your breath stammer over your lips. That he was pushing you away now of all times shot a hot, blinding pain through your chest.  "What do you want to talk about?" you asked, forcing your voice to sound strong even though you had never felt so weak and helpless before. Your eyes dropped to Din's fists that shook slightly. You let your arms fall down to your sides as you took one step towards his back. Cautiously you reached out and placed one hand on his shoulder. Your touch was light, you almost didn't even touch him but he still flinched. You gulped down the hurt and carried on. "Din?" "I took it off." You blinked rapidly and furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?" you asked, your voice sounding even heavier through the modulator than usually. "I took it off" Din repeated, his tone suddenly harsh as he shook your hand off his shoulder and turned around to face you. He had turned around so fast it caught you off guard. You would have stumbled if he hadn’t placed his own hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady. Din's posture was stiff and straight, no typical head tilt, no hands on his belt with his weight shifted more on one leg. The man in front of you was a stranger.  "What, Din? What did you take off?" you asked taken aback and with your voice laced with worry. Your eyes were flickering from his helmet to his hands that were placed on your shoulders as you tried to decipher the meaning of his words. It was this moment you realized that his harsh tone wasn’t directed at you but at himself. And it was this moment you realized he wasn't angry. He was terrified. And seeing Din truly scarred right now with his body trembling… that scarred you more than you could have ever imagined. You didn't even dare to breathe anymore. What could possibly scare Din so much that his whole body was shaking? You wanted to reach out for him, wrap your arms around him and draw him in, to comfort him like you had done so many times before. You were about to take one step forward when he spoke up again.  "My helmet" Din's voice broke. "They saw." He didn't need to explain who 'they' were. You knew. You suddenly knew what he had done in that imperial base. You knew why he was ignoring you. You knew and the only thing you could do was stare at him, your visor completely blank. You couldn't even tilt your head to give him some kind of reaction, you just froze with your breath stuck in your throat. You weren't even sure what you were thinking in that moment, your mind was blank. Only when Din put his hands on the sides of your helmet like he had done so many times before, did you find your way back into reality. Your head snapped upwards, your eyes wide behind the darkness of your visor. The touch, his touch that normally felt so soothing suddenly felt restricting. Or maybe it were your thoughts that kept drawing the circle in which they were racing tighter and tighter. Maybe they were cutting off your breath.  "Please, say something." You could almost see his eyes frantically searching for yours behind the visor. His eyes. Eyes you had never seen before and always had to imagine just how he had to imagine your eyes, too. Eyes they had seen. Some imperial men had seen them… before you. Your heart clenched at that thought and you took one step back, finally able to move again. Then you sucked in a sharp breath as Din's hands fell from your helmet. Lowering your head, you shook it in disbelief and confusion. You had no idea how to feel, how to react. All your life you had been taught… you knew there were other Mandalorians, other ways but… "I… I need some air" you chocked out. You were too overwhelmed. You needed some distance to clear your thoughts, to understand what you felt. So, you pushed him away just like he had done with you.  _______________ You and Din hadn't talked since then. Not on the Slave I. Not when you had gone out with him and Boba to recruit Bo-Katan and Koska. Not even when you were fighting against Moff Gideon with Din. But your thoughts had been racing through all of that. Screaming and clawing at the walls of your mind. You knew Din was suffering. He was suffering because of you and how you had reacted. You knew were wrong and needed to fix this… And then that Jedi appeared to take Grogu with him and you froze, unable to from any words or thoughts, unable to protest. This had been Din's and your mission. Grogu needed a teacher. But all those logical reason didn't make it any easier to watch. It wasn't any easier to watch as Din took the little green bean on his arm. It didn't make it easier to watch him remove his helmet so the little one could see his face for the first time. It didn't make it easier when you saw the slight tremble wandering through Din. You didn't need to see his face to know he was fighting against his tears.  But what made it even harder was when Din sat him back down and Grogu tiptoed towards you. You immediately leaped forward and scooped him up, coming to a halt right beside Din. You cradled him in your own arms, hugging him tight as you felt the tears clouding your eyes. Grogu stretched his little hands towards your helmet just like he had done with Din. You didn't hesitate to rib it off and let it fall to the ground. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing else mattered anymore. Underneath your hair was a mess of unkempt tangles and locks, your eyes filled with tears as you looked at Grogu with them and not through the visor for the first and last time. He placed one of his hands underneath your eye, clumsily wiping away the tears. A sad smile stretched over your lips at that. He cooed softly as you hugged him tighter against you while quiet sobs shook your body.  "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ad'ika" you whispered so quietly even you struggled to pick it up. But maybe the heartbeat was just echoing too loudly in your ears. Either way, Grogu might not know what the words meant exactly, but when he tried to hug you back you were certain he had understood the weight in them.  But all this didn't make it easier to set him down and to let him go. _______________ You were still staring at the elevator door even when it had stayed closed for many minutes now. You still hoped they would open up, so you could see him again. You were still staring at it even when the others slowly left the room, their gazes lowered and not looking back as they were walking into the elevator to get to the ship, leaving you two alone. They walked into the same elevator in which Grogu had disappeared into. You knew that this was the best for him, but that didn't hinder your heart from shattering. You sucked in a sharp breath and closed your eyes when you felt another wave of tears forming in them. But when you felt a hand intertwine with your own they snapped open again and it took all your willpower to not look to your right, to not look at Din whose eyes were also still focused on the elevator. It took everything in you to not look at Din without his helmet on. This was the moment you realized that you could faintly make out some of his features from the corner of your eye. You could see him, parts of him, for the very first time. And it forced the tears in your eyes to spill over as you collapsed on the floor, breaking your fall with one hand whilst the other was still in Din's. He didn't let go of you, instead he slowly let himself fall beside you. So close you could feel his warmth beside you. So close it made you unable to breath.  "I'm sorry" you whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Your voice gained in volume as you wailed in pain. You had lost Grogu once more. You had pushed Din away when he had needed you most. You had pushed him away when he had felt like he failed. But the truth was that you had failed him. "I am an awful friend. I am an awful partner. I-I-" you sucked in shallow breaths, clawing at your throat with your free hand as you sat back on your legs. Then Din squeezed your hand and you froze. Your mouth opening and closing without producing a sound. He tugged your hand towards him, cupped your hand in between his own and placed it over the chest plate where his heart was beating underneath while still staring straight ahead just like you were. "Stop" you hissed. "You are supposed to hate me. Please, just push me away. I don't-"  Before you could finish your sentence Din suddenly pulled you to him. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand placed on the back of your head as he pressed you against his chest. "You're supposed to hate me!" you screamed while you clawed at his coat, burying your fingers into the worn out fabric while tears burned their path into your skin. You didn’t understand this. How could he act that way, how could he bear to hold you in his arms after how awful you had reacted, after how badly you had hurt him? How could he even stand to be in the same room with you? "Why don't you hate me?" you begged, your voice barley over a whisper now. But Din didn't answer you. He just kept you pressed against him until your body stopped shaking, until your wails and cries died down and all you could do was to exhaustedly melt into him. Your shoulders were still shaking every now and then when you sucked in a sharp breath and the tears had left behind deep paths in your skin.  "You're still a Mandalorian" you whispered after a while, your voice hoarse. "It didn't make you any less of a Mandalorian. I would have done the same. I wouldn't have hesitated and that makes how I reacted even worse. I'm sorry!"  "It's okay" Din suddenly whispered back. You tensed up at that and it took all your willpower to not free yourself from his embrace, to not push him away again, to not run away.  "No, it's not!" you barked back. "When I boarded the Razor Crest we said we would have each others back, that we would always be there for each other. I said I would always be there for you!" You pressed your eyes closed, forced the tears back.  "Hate me. Push me away, scream at me! Kriffing, just leave me behind!"  Din tightened his grip and placed his head on top of yours. You felt his chin press against you as his breath tickled over your hair. And you couldn't hold the tears back anymore.  "Please, just hate me."  "I don't" he said, his voice soft but stern. "You hurt me but I don't hate you." You let out a stifled cry and pressed your face underneath his chin and against his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling his skin against your own for the very first time.  "I'm sorry" you said, your voice breaking.  "I know" Din chuckled slightly and slowly let his hands wander to your face, cupping your cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears. "It's okay, we'll get through this." We'll get through losing Grogu. We'll get through our pain and hurt. We'll get through this together. You nodded as you sobbed, your fingers slowly relaxing until they completely let go of Dins' coat. Your arms dropped to the ground with a thud while Din drew slow circles on your cheeks, brushing back your hair every now and then until your body relaxed against him. For a while you two stayed like this, seeking the comfort of the other. Then he slightly tugged at your head, wanting to pull it back and you immediately understood his question. You tensed up. "I don't deserve to look at you" you whispered, pressing your face further into him.  "That's not your decision" Din stopped and took a deep breath.  "I want you to see. I wanted you to be the first one to see and I'm sorry that it wasn't you."  "Don't apologize" you croaked out and slightly shook your head in between his hands. "You have nothing to apologize for. I would have done the same." You felt Din nod against you, the humming sound in his chest vibrating in your own.  "I want you to see me" he began again. "But I also want to see you… if you'll let me?"  Your hands shot up to cup his cheeks just like he was cupping yours as you nodded. "Yes."  For a few moments in which your hearts were beating against each other’s ribs, no one moved. You didn't dare to be the first one to move, you didn’t dare to be the one to initiate, so you waited. Din sucked in a deep breath before he slowly pulled your head back. You felt his eyes wander over your face immediately. However, you kept your eyes lowered. "Please, look at me."  Your lips began to tremble, your eyes shut tightly. For a few seconds you just focused on how his face felt underneath your fingers. You focused on the slight stubble you could feel, the deep lines in his face formed by hardship and worry. You focused on the warmth of his skin seeping through your gloves, on the locks of hair that were tickling against the back of your hand. Then you slowly looked up. You looked up, you laid your eyes on him and your breath got stuck in your throat. You couldn't think as tears formed on the corners of your eyes once again. You got lost in the warmth of Din's deep brown eyes. You got lost in the gentleness of his smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips ever so slightly and the uncertainty of his furrowed brows. You lost yourself in him just as he was losing himself in you, in your eyes, in your own quivering lips.  "Su cuy'gar, mesh'la." You couldn't hold back the tears anymore just as you couldn't hold back the small sad smile forming on your lips. "Su cuy'gar, mesh'la" you retorted with a small, breathless laugh. For a few more heartbeats you just looked at each other, eyes soft and filled with tears, fingers wandering over the others face, exploring the scars, lines and imperfections. Your heart was hammering rapidly against your ribs, so much that you were able to feel it thumbing in your throat. Then Din slowly pulled you forward until your foreheads were firmly pressed against one another. You felt his breath tickle over your face and it made shivers run down your spine. The tears in Din's eyes finally spilled over as he let his hands wander to your hair, inching to pull you even closer. A soft laugh left his lips when you wiped away his tears with your thumbs. It made your heart swell and clench at the same time.  "Ni ceta" you whispered. "Ni ceta. Ni ce-"  "K'uur, ner sarad" Din interrupted you as he stroked through your hair. You closed your eyes and breathed in his soothing scent, concentrated on his heart beating against your ribs, his breath ghosting over your lips. He was so close you could almost feel the smile on his lips. Your eyes shot opened, locking onto his when you felt his thumb brush over the top of your lip, tracing your mouth. His eyes were slightly hooded, filled with the impulse to lean forward. But he didn't. Instead he raised his brows slightly, questioningly, asking you. And all you could do was wordlessly nod. Din closed the small gap between the two of you in an instant, placing his lips over yours, so lightly it felt like only a gust of wind, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. You melted into him, pulling him closer, pressing into him. You kissed him back, your lips dancing against his just as cautiously. And then you cried once more, sobbing against his lips, losing yourself in the sensation. You felt his pain in that kiss, his worries and fears. You felt the loss that was clawing at him, breaking him slowly piece by piece. And that made you kiss back harder, more desperately. You put all your own sorrow into that kiss but also all your love.  When you two slowly pulled away, you both stared breathlessly at each other. No one spoke up but you didn't have to, to understand the other. You could see everything you needed to know in Din's eyes for the very first time. You would get through this. You would work through this. You would overcome the pain and hurt.  _________________________________  
Translations:
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you Ad'ika - little one, son Su cuy'gar - Hello Mesh'la - beautiful Ni ceta - sorry, lit: I kneel (grovelling apology)  K'uur – Hush Ner sarad – my flower
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Taglists:
Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty
Din Djarin Simps: @theflightytemptressadventure​ / @sarahjkl82-blog / @remmysbounty / @undeniableadrenaline / @kassidydjarin / @freeshavocadoooo / @dindaddy / @wonderless-screwup / @helena-way07 / @n0ffitar / @24-blackbirds
If you want to be added/removed/switched to another taglist at any point just let me know! Crossed out names I was unable to tag for some reason. Also, I think some of you changed their usernames? Sooo, I hope I managed to tag you correctly...
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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years
Text
Taking Care of Business (Chapter Seventeen)
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Summary: (Y/N) and Din clarify their relationship as they team up with an ex-Imperial sharpshooter to infiltrate a secret Empire-controlled refinery.
Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: A long chapter this week! I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Seventeen The Believer (Previous Chapter)
One of the things (Y/N) loved about sewing was the sheer complexity of it. Envisioning exactly what you wanted to create and carefully planning out each stitch before the needle could even touch the fabric, methodically constructing something out of nothing but your own imagination and with only the simplest of tools to help you. Sewing had always been therapeutic for her, a way of distracting herself from the challenges of life and proving that she could be more than what the Rebellion had turned her into, and it was onboard the Slave I when (Y/N) realized just how important the pastime had been to her.
Ignoring many encouragements to rest, (Y/N) had disassembled and cleaned each and every weapon onboard the ship, her hands moving on auto-pilot while she skillfully disassembled and put blasters back together. But the task wasn’t challenging enough to make her stop thinking about Grogu and the terrified look in his eyes as the droids had taken him away; the Empire had already taken so much from her, but she’d be damned if she let them take away the child she and Din had grown to love.
“Hey,” (Y/N) glanced over as Fennec sat down on the bench beside her and gestured to the blaster rifle in her lap. “You’re gonna burn a hole through that rag if you keep cleaning like that.”
At the assassin’s comment, her hands stilled and she registered the lingering soreness in her arms; she met her gaze with a brief smile and shrugged indifferently. “What can I say? Boba Fett has some incredibly filthy weapons. Seriously, you’d think that one of the galaxy’s most legendary bounty hunters would take the time to clean his blasters.”
“Keep cleaning like that and he just might hire you to do it for him.”
(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “A former Alliance Starfleet captain joining up with an assassin and a living legend; wouldn’t that be something?”
Nodding, Fennec’s eyes flicked over to where Din was seated in the corner. “Probably not as exciting as joining up with a Mandalorian warrior.”
“We’re here. Prep for landing.”
While Fennec went off to speak to Cara, (Y/N) set the half-cleaned blaster rifle down and made her way over to Din, who was preoccupied with adjusting one of his pauldrons. “Din, are you sure that this is a good idea?”
“No,” He answered truthfully, the visor of his helmet tilted up towards her as she stood in between his spread legs; his modulated voice sounded rougher than usual and her heart broke when she realized that he’d been crying. “But what other choice do we have? None of us knows any other ex-Imps who’d be willing to help; Mayfeld may be one son of a mud-scuffer but his allegiance isn’t to the Empire.” The ship began its descent as Din held one of her hands between his gloved ones. “We’re gonna get the kid back, alor’ad, I swear on everything I am that we will.”
“I know,” (Y/N) gave him a soft smile and allowed him to rest his helmeted head against her stomach. “I know we will.”
The ship landed smoothly on the surface of Karthon and after Boba lowered the ramp, Cara left to retrieve Mayfeld from the endless field of scrap metal. Din insisted on checking (Y/N)’s blaster wound while they waited and she reluctantly allowed him to wrap a bandage over her fresh bacta patch, understanding the reasons for his over-protectiveness. She was lowering the hem of her top when Boba emerged from the cockpit and her brow rose in surprise; he’d applied a fresh coat of dark green paint to his beskar armor, making it appear as good as new. Now he really looks like a legendary bounty hunter, she thought as she watched him and Fennec walk down the ship’s ramp, remembering all the stories and cautionary tales she’d heard about the man.
“Let’s go.”
Din gave her hand a final squeeze before dropping it and walking down the ramp. Pressing a hand to the bandage at her side, (Y/N) slowly followed behind and her eyes were immediately drawn to the man in the New Republic prison jumpsuit; the joking look that had been on his face quickly fell as he watched Din exit the Slave I and she couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, knowing that he deserved to feel fear after everything he’d done during and after the Rebellion.
The two of them stopped in front of Mayfeld and Din inclined his head. “Mayfeld.”
“Hey, Mando, long time.” Mayfeld was looking at everything but the Mandalorian as he anxiously asked, “What, you came here to kill me?”
Cara clenched her jaw. “All you need to know is I bent a lot of rules to bring you along.”
“Why am I so lucky?”
(Y/N)’s anger rose at Mayfeld’s sarcastic response and she didn’t stop herself from snapping back. “Because you’re Imperial.”
“Hey, that was a long time ago, all right?” He insisted, furrowing his brow while he glanced between her and Din. “And why the hell does me bein’ ex-Imperial matter to you, princess?”
“You still know your Imperial clearances and protocols,” Din interrupted, his gloved hands tightening into fists at his sides as he loomed over the man. “Don’t you?” Mayfeld frowned in confusion but kept silent as they all headed back into the ship, following Cara’s orders to change out of his jumpsuit and into a spare set of clothes. Din helped (Y/N) sit and stayed by her side while the ship took off and their guest took a seat across from them; Cara sat beside her, her eyes narrowed and diligently trained on Mayfeld, and Fennec’s arms were crossed over her chest. “We need coordinates to Moff Gideon’s cruiser.”
“Moff Gideon?” Mayfeld asked incredulously before shaking his head. “Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard. I’m not doin’ that.”
Cara let out a sigh and glanced over at them before replying, “They’ve got their kid.”
To (Y/N)’s surprise, Mayfeld’s hardened expression faltered. “The little green guy?”
“Yeah, the little green guy.” The gloved hand that rested on (Y/N)’s shoulder twitched and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
“So…I help you guys get him back, you guys let me go?”
(Y/N) snorted in amusement at his hopeful tone. “That’s not how this works.”
“Well, then what’s in it for me?”
Beside her, Cara pursed her lips in annoyance. “You get a better view.”
Mayfeld sighed, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees before answering. “All right, but here’s the thing: I can’t get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal. I believe there’s one on Morak.”
“Morak?” Din repeated, his modulated voice laced with disbelief. “There’s nothing on Morak.”
The man shook his head. “It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” (Y/N) and Cara exchanged matching looks of disgust, their time with the Rebellion making it difficult for either of them to stomach their new passenger. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”
(Y/N) tilted her head to look up at Din and after a brief moment’s hesitation, he reached for the nearby control panel and pressed a button. “Fett, punch in the coordinates for Morak.”
“Copy that.”
The ship hummed around them as it prepared to enter hyperspace, and (Y/N) felt an unexpected pang of sadness; she missed piloting a ship, the familiar task having the same effect on her mental health as sewing. I’ll add the Razor Crest to the ever-growing list of things that the Empire’s taken away from me, she thought as the image of Grogu’s face crossed her mind again. With Din’s assistance, she got up and moved to join him and Boba beside the navigation system but not before she heard Mayfeld speak again.
“Hey, Marshal, who the hell’s the girl anyhow, some sort of royalty or somethin’?”
“Her name is (Y/N), and she’s Mando’s partner. That’s all you need to know.”
She wasn’t sure if Din had heard Mayfeld and Cara’s exchange but she didn’t say anything to him, allowing him to wrap a steadying arm around her waist and looking over expectantly at the bounty hunter working the controls of the navigation system.
“I did an initial scan of the planet,” Boba announced, gesturing towards the navigation system he’d been tampering with and waiting for them to move closer before continuing. “This is what you’re talking about, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the refinery right there.” Mayfeld gestured towards the blue-tinted image of a massive stone structure.
Fennec shifted as her eyes remained trained on the hologram. “Wonder what they’re refining in there.”
“Looks like rhydonium. Highly volatile and explosive.”
Mayfeld snickered at Boba’s words. “Yeah, kinda like this one, huh?”
(Y/N), Din and Boba all turned around and the man’s joking grin fell; the bounty hunter turned back to the hologram with a sigh. “They have anti-aircraft cannons protecting it.”
“And a platoon of security forces.”
Din nodded. “So we go in quiet. Let’s take another look…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Slave I soon landed on the surface of Morak, hidden away behind a dense forest of trees, and after arming themselves the group trekked through the foliage to the edge of a cliff. It overlooked a dusty road and just as they arrived, an Imperial vehicle passed by and into a tunnel carved into a nearby mountain.
Mayfeld turned away from the sight to look at them, apprehension quickly filling his eyes. “I’m not gonna need long inside so once I get the coordinates, you guys gotta get me the hell out of there.”
“You get to the roof, I’ll drop in and pull you out.”
Cara nodded, her hand moving to rest on the blaster at her hip. “All right, Mayfeld and I will swap out for the drivers in the tunnel-”
“Hey, as much as I’d like to take a road trip with Rebel-dropper here, that’s not gonna work.”
The marshal’s brow rose as she examined his face. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
Mayfeld sighed in exasperation. “Well, because these remnant bases are set up and run by ex-ISB. If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you’re gonna be detected and it’s guns out.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, (Y/N) couldn’t help but scoff at his words. “You sure do know a lot about Imperial remnants.”
“Hey, if you wanna accuse me of somethin’, princess, then just say it!”
(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Din’s stern voice. “We don’t have time for this. Fennec will go.”
“No, I’m wanted by the ISB,” Fennec shook her head. “I’ll trip the alarm, too.”
Din turned to Boba beside him. “Fett?”
Sighing beneath his helmet, Boba cryptically replied, “Let’s just say they might recognize my face.”
An idea began to form in (Y/N)’s mind while Mayfeld and Cara began bickering, and she took a deep breath before speaking up. “I’ll go.”
Her companions all turned to look at her but her eyes were only focused on Din, who had visibly tensed at her declaration. “You can’t, alor’ad, you’re a former Rebellion captain; you’ll show up on New Republic registers the same as Cara.”
“…Not necessarily.” She glanced down at the rocky ground to avoid their confused stares and continued. “The Alliance Starfleet kept a record of all the smugglers within the Rebellion but since it was imperative that our missions remained secret, they never kept records of our genetics. So, there’s a pretty good chance that I won’t show up on any ISB genetic scans.”
“And there’s a pretty good chance that you will.”
“Then I’ll avoid getting scanned.”
“I don’t trust Mayfeld.”
“Last I checked, I can take care of myself.”
“You’re still injured.”
“I’m fine!” (Y/N) insisted, her frustration with the Mandalorian mounting with each excuse he gave her. “Look, we don’t trust him to go in alone and I’m the only one of us who has a chance of not being caught! We’re wasting time arguing when-”
“I’ll go with you.”
(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock and she was vaguely aware of Mayfeld’s amused chuckle somewhere nearby, but her eyes remained trained on the visor of Din’s helmet. “Hey buddy, I may be good at fast-talkin’, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards. So, unless you’re gonna take off that helmet, it’s gonna be me goin’ in with your smuggler gal here.” He ignored the pointed glare (Y/N) shot him as he shrugged a shoulder. “Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”
Din continued to stare down at her. “You two are not going alone. I’m coming with you…and I won’t be showing my face.”
To say that (Y/N) was angry with her partner was an understatement; she was infuriated that after everything they’d gone through together, Din didn’t believe that she could complete the mission without him. She was fuming throughout their planning session and when they prepared to make their way to the top of the tunnel, she ignored his attempts to help her and instead asked Cara to guide her down the rocky slope. She’d also be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated about the way he was risking his Creed; the Way was more important to him than anything and the thought that he was putting it at risk because of her made her feel equal amounts of irritation and guilt. I’m not going to be the one responsible for breaking his Creed, (Y/N) silently vowed, not when I know how much it means to him.
While the next Imperial vehicle passed underneath them, the four of them jumped down onto its roof and crouched low as it entered the tunnel. Cara disappeared into the vehicle and soon after, it came to a jarring stop; the sudden movement made (Y/N) hiss in pain and clamp a hand down on her healing wound, but she was quick to climb down onto the ground before Din could try and help her.
“Looks like we lucked out,” Cara called, opening the side hatch and kicking one trooper out. “These two had a passenger with them.” The marshal tossed a second unconscious body out of a vehicle and (Y/N)’s stomach dropped when she recognized the uniform of an Imperial naval captain.
“Wow, what irony; the former Rebel captain putting on the uniform of an Imperial captain!” Mayfeld snickered beside her as she knelt and began stripping off the man’s outer clothes. “I’d offer to swap outfits with you, princess, but that Imperial kepi’s not really my style.”
“Shut up and get changed,” Din growled and despite her frustration, she watched with satisfaction as the man paled and hurried to comply with his order; the Mandalorian, who had already gathered up the second trooper’s armor, moved closer to her once she stood with her borrowed uniform. “Can we talk?”
(Y/N) brushed past him and began walking towards a nearby crevice in the tunnel wall, calling over her shoulder, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Alor’ad…” His plead didn’t do anything to stop her and moments later, she heard his heavy footsteps follow her into the crevice. “C’mon, alor’ad-”
“Don’t you ‘alor’ad’ me, Din.” She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to face him as her anger finally boiled over. “You don’t think that I have what it takes to finish this mission on my own.”
Din let out an exasperated sigh. “(Y/N), that’s not true-”
“Yes, it is! You’re putting yourself and your Creed at risk all because you don’t trust my skills.”
“No, I’m not-”
“Then why?!” (Y/N) demanded, tears of frustration prickling in her eyes. “Why would you insist on coming along and-?”
“I love you.” Din’s words echoed through the crevice and she froze as he continued on uninterrupted, his voice beginning to waiver. “(Y/N), I love you and I can’t lose you, I just can’t. I’m already the one who got you injured and made you lose everything that mattered to you, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t be the one responsible for getting you killed, too.” Tossing the trooper’s armor onto the ground and ripping off his gloves, he stepped forward and held her face between his warm, tanned hands. “Nothing in this galaxy means more to me than you and the kid, alor’ad, nothing. Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. I love you.”
A tear streamed down (Y/N)’s cheek and Din’s thumb gently wiped it away as she replied, “And I love you too, Din Djarin.” She pressed a kiss to his palm and his helmeted forehead lowered to rest against hers; after taking a moment to revel in their love confessions, she looked up into the visor of his helmet. “Din, you’re not responsible for what happened; my blaster wound is nearly healed and my possessions…they were only possessions.”
“But your mother’s journal, your dream-”
“I won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt that the only thing of hers I had is gone, but the Empire can never take away my memories of her. And as for my dream…” She held the uniform in one arm and rested a hand against his beskar-covered chest, directly over his heart. “It’ll come true one day, Din, but only if you’re there with me.”
“Hey lovebirds, we’re kinda on a time crunch here! Hurry up!”
Din let out a frustrated growl as he pulled away from her. “I swear on the Maker, if we didn’t need his Imperial clearances…”
Her partner kept watch at the entrance of the crevice while she quickly changed into the Imperial captain’s uniform and once she was fully dressed, she headed back to where Cara and Mayfeld were waiting; the marshal flashed her a sympathetic smile as she moved to stand beside her. “Grey wool looks terrible on you, Captain.”
“Feels terrible, too.” (Y/N) grumbled, fidgeting as the rough material rubbed against her skin. “Imps don’t know krif about constructing comfortable uniforms.”
From his spot inside the vehicle, Mayfeld snorted in amusement. “What are you, one of those fashionistas from Naboo or somethin’?” She refused to look in his or Cara’s direction, and her jaw clenched as the man began to laugh. “The silence is incredibly telling, princess. Who would’ve thought that an Alderaanian could work alongside someone from Naboo? You know, since Naboo’s kinda to blame for the rise of the Empire…”
(Y/N) was spared from answering when Din appeared from the crevice and made his way over to them; it was jarring to see him wearing something other than beskar and she knew that it couldn’t have been easy for him to pack his Mandalorian armor away after so many years of wearing it.
“Look at this! Oh, the shame; now, that right there is worth the price of admission.”
The three of them ignored Mayfeld’s remarks as they moved to stand beside the Juggernaut. (Y/N) avoided glancing over at the marshal standing beside her, instead keeping her eyes on the visor of Din’s new trooper helmet. “Wish I could say it looked good on you but I’d be lying.”
“Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunner, or we’re never getting out of here.”
“We got you,” (Y/N) felt a hand on her elbow and when she looked over, Cara was smiling as she continued. “Both of you.”
(Y/N) felt the tension immediately leave her body, her shoulders sagging in relief when she realized that Cara didn’t despise her; they shared a smile of understanding and Din held out the burlap sack towards the marshal. ���Take care of this, keep it safe.”
Cara nodded firmly and accepted the bag. “I will.”
“Hey guys, still on the clock.” Mayfeld called out and with one final look, (Y/N) and Din turned and made their way over to the side of the vehicle. “What would they say on Mandalore?” She allowed her partner to help her up into the cab, rolling her eyes in annoyance as the man continued to talk to Cara outside. “It’s a shame you’re not comin’ along with us. You got such a sunny disposition, can’t imagine how fun you are in one of these…”
“Please let me shoot him, Din, I promise that I’ll only mildly injure him.”
Instead of answering, Din huffed out a quiet laugh while he settled in the seat beside her and (Y/N) focused her attention on the road ahead as Mayfeld worked on starting the Juggernaut. The engine roared to life after several moments of fiddling with the controls and the man cheered. “And we are off!” The vehicle lurched forward and the cab was silent while they journeyed out of the tunnel; just as she felt herself begin to relax, Mayfeld looked around her at Din. “Hey, how’s it feel? Huh?” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him gesture to the armor he was wearing. “I mean, c’mon, man. You still get to wear a helmet, right?” Neither of them answered and Mayfeld sighed. “All right, you know what? I’m takin’ this thing off, I can’t see anything.” With his free hand, he removed his helmet and set it aside before focusing back on the road ahead. “I don’t know how you people wear those things. And by ‘you people,’ I do mean Mandalorians.” (Y/N) felt her anger begin to rise at his taunts and she bit her lip to keep from speaking, keeping her eyes trained on the scenery outside. Just when she thought that he’d grown tired of talking, though, he spoke again. “Feels better when it’s off.”
Unable to contain herself any longer, (Y/N) turned towards Mayfeld with a harsh glare. “Just shut up and drive the kriffing vehicle, Mayfeld.”
Mayfeld smirked and raised a hand up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet now.” When she turned back to face the road, she felt Din’s gloved hand wrap around hers and gently squeeze. “So, a Rebel smuggler, huh? Whatcha smuggle for ‘em, spice? Weapons? Chak-root?” She didn’t reply so he let out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t peg you as the mercenary type. I thought that the Naboo were supposed to be peace-lovin’ people…but I guess that changed when they helped the Empire rise to-”
“Juggernaut Four, you’re running hot. Be sure to watch your cargo heat limits and speed.”
“Copy that, Three. We hit a couple bumps; thanks for the heads-up.”
The man beside her looked down at the vehicle’s monitors, his brow furrowing in worry as he struggled to check their cargo’s levels, and Din finally spoke up. “Don’t worry about the rhydonium. As long as you drive steady, you’ll get us to the refinery.”
They continued down the road, eventually coming across a small village. (Y/N) reached forward and activated the vehicle’s horn, carefully watching as the children hurried off of the road; seeing the children playing not only reminded her of Grogu, but of all the cities and villages she’d evacuated during the Rebellion. Even on the most heavily-controlled planets, children found ways to ignore the Imperial influences surrounding them and try to enjoy what little childhood they could; kids are resilient no matter their circumstances, she thought as the vehicle drove out of the village, but they shouldn’t have to be.
As if reading her thoughts, Mayfeld chuckled. “Yeah. Empire, New Republic…it’s all the same to these people. Invaders on their land is all we are. I’m just sayin’, somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling and others are being ruled. I mean, look at your race.” He gestured towards Din, and (Y/N) could feel him tense up in anger; even she knew that it was a Creed and not a race, but it was clear that the man was only trying to rile the Mandalorian up. “Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a choice? So how are they any different than the Empire? If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing and if you were born on Alderaan, you believe somethin’ else. But guess what? Neither one of ‘em exist anymore.”
“I’m warning you, Mayfeld…”
“Hey, I’m just a realist, princess.” The man shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a survivor, just like you two-”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Din’s stern voice filled the cab of the vehicle. “You are nothing like us.”
Mayfeld snorted in amusement. “I don’t know, seems to me like your guys’ rules start to change when you get desperate.” (Y/N) glowered as he gestured to the Imperial captain’s uniform she wore. “I mean, look at you, a former Rebel captain wearin’ the uniform of an Imp. And you,” He looked around her at Din. “You said you couldn’t take your helmet off, and now you got a Stormtrooper one on. So what’s the rule? Is it that you can’t take off your Mando helmet, or you can’t show your face? ‘Cause there is a difference…”
At his observations, (Y/N) squirmed uncomfortably in her seat; Din had removed his helmet several times in her presence, though only while she was blindfolded, had her eyes closed or they were surrounded by darkness. He’d assured her several times that removing his helmet in her presence wasn’t breaking his Creed, since she couldn’t see his face, but Mayfeld’s words gave her pause. Have I been forcing Din to bend the Way of the Mandalore, she asked herself, uneasy with the idea of her partner compromising his beliefs for her. The hand that was holding hers flexed, and she knew that Din was also uncomfortable the man’s theorizing.
“Look, I’m just sayin’, we’re all the same. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy.” Something shifted in Mayfeld’s eyes and he was quick to turn his attention back to the road before continuing. “As far as I’m concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you’re doin’ better than most.”
Before any of them could say another word, a voice called out from the cab’s communication radio. “Control, this is Juggernaut Three, we might be coming up on some route interference…Control, Control, we need a new-” The Juggernaut Three pilot screamed over the sound of blaster fire before the transmission cut out.
(Y/N) and Din turned to one another as Mayfeld began panicking. “What was that?”
“Please stand by for reroute.” The voice emitting from the communication radio was punctuated by a deafening explosion far ahead of them, fire and smoke filling the sky as the wreckage of a vehicle came into view. “Juggernaut Four has been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?!”
“The rhydonium’s still stable,” Din called out, glancing away from the monitors to look at (Y/N) as he lowered his voice. “Everything’s gonna be okay, alor’ad.”
“Juggernaut Five, maintain speed and course. Proceed with caution. Rerouting course, stand by.”
Mayfeld’s eyes widened in horror. “‘Proceed with caution?’ Is she serious?!”
“Control, this is Juggernaut Three, requesting-” The pilot was cut off by shouts and blaster fire. “Abort, abort!” There was another explosion, its shockwaves shaking their vehicle as they soon swerved around the wreckage of another Juggernaut.
A chill ran down (Y/N)’s spine, and she quickly looked away from the wreckage to stare at Din beside her. “They’re blowing up the rhydonium.”
Something heavy suddenly hit the side of their vehicle. “What the hell was that?”
The three of them looked down at the monitors to see a ship full of people flying alongside their vehicle, one of them already standing on their roof. “Pirates. Keep driving, I’ll take care of it.” Din opened the window beside him and leaned out before shooting at the pirates; (Y/N) watched the monitor with mounting panic, taking note of how close the blaster fire was to their volatile cargo.
“Are you seriously shooting a blaster near rhydonium?!”
(Y/N)’s jaw dropped when she spotted what the pirates were holding in their hands. “They’ve got thermal detonators…”
“Terrific!”
Din pulled away from the window and hurried to the ladder in the back of the cab. “Just keep it steady!”
“Get these guys off, get ‘em off us!”
“Just shut the hell up and keep driving!” (Y/N) shouted, watching her partner climb up the ladder and open the hatch before turning back to the monitors; as Din shot the attackers, their vehicle shook and the rhydonium levels began to fluctuate dangerously when one of the pirates thermal detonators exploded behind them, the monitor’s blinking red and an alarm blaring as she swore, “Dank farrik…”
“They’re trying to blow the rhydonium!”
Mayfeld huffed out a sarcastic laugh at Din’s exclamation. “You think?! You should’ve left me in prison!”
Despite their dire situation, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Finally, something you and I can agree on!” Another loud noise on the roof of the vehicle made her look down at the monitor to see Din fighting off more pirates; he’d somehow lost his blaster and was fighting them without a weapon, but he seemed to be doing all right for the moment. “Mayfeld, pick it up. Drive faster!”
The man’s brow furrowed but he listened to her command, pressing his foot down on the accelerator; they both lurched back as the Juggernaut sped forward and just as (Y/N) was breathing a sigh of relief, the alarm sounded and the rhydonium levels began to rapidly rise. “I don’t think faster’s a good idea!” He slammed on the brakes, instantly slowing the vehicle and stopping the alarm.
“What are you doing?!”
“The rhydonium’ll explode if we go any faster!” (Y/N) shouted back, scooting over to open the window and lean out to get a better look at the fighting; she watched as Din was knocked down onto his back, his helmeted head hanging over the edge of the roof as he was pinned down by three attackers. A fourth attacker hurried over to the open rhydonium container and retrieved a thermal detonator from his pocket, and that’s when (Y/N) knew she had to act.
“Where the hell are you goin’, princess?!” Mayfeld asked as she began clambering out of her seat, her hand pressed tight against her healing wound. “You’ve got a hole in your side and no blaster, remember?”
(Y/N) gritted her teeth and climbed up the cab’s ladder. “I don’t need a blaster.”
Ignoring the mounting pain in her side, (Y/N) clambered onto the roof of the vehicle and hurried over to where Din and the pirates were; she planted a hard kick onto one pirate’s back, sending him flying off the roof and freeing up Din’s hands so that he could take care of the other two. The beeping noise emitting from the thermal detonator grew more incessant as (Y/N) wrenched it off the rhydonium and, seeing no other option, threw it as hard as she could towards the pursuing ships; the force of the explosion sent her flying back into Din, and they both crashed onto the roof of the Juggernaut.
“(Y/N)…(Y/N), you okay?” Din panted, letting out a grunt of pain as he rolled over to onto his side and held the side of her face with a gloved hand. Still winded from the fall, she nodded and he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Uh, Mando, I gotta stop! I can’t cross at this speed!”
The Juggernaut began to slow down as it neared the mouth of the bridge and while they helped each other sit up, (Y/N) spotted four more ships filled with pirates fly through the smoke and dying flames of the explosion; her heart sank when she saw the activated thermal detonators in their hands. There’s no way we’re getting out of this, she thought with dread, clambering to her feet to stand beside Din as he raised his fists. The unmistakable sounds of approaching TIE Fighters made (Y/N) whirl around just in time to see the Imperial ships shoot the ground on either side of their vehicle before hitting the approaching pirate ships; hating herself for feeling relieved, she allowed her partner to guide her down the ladder and into the cab of the Juggernaut.
From her seat in between Mayfeld and Din, (Y/N) watched with a mixture of horror and disgust as Stormtroopers gunned down the remaining pirates while others stood and saluted them as they drove into the refinery. Now that the fighting was over, guilt began to wash over her; the pirates that they’d fought and killed were only trying to defy Imperial rule, just as the countless people she’d smuggled off Imperial-controlled planets had done.
“Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy…”
You did it for Grogu, (Y/N) told herself firmly, clutching her side as she glanced over at her partner. Din was breathing heavily, his hand massaging his unarmored shoulder, and she could tell from his body language that he was thinking along the same lines as her.
“Never thought you’d be happy to see Stormtroopers, huh?” Mayfeld grinned, saluting back to the Stormtroopers flanking the Juggernaut with ease.
(Y/N) hated herself a little more as she silently agreed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
A/N: Idk about this chapter, I edited a lot of it while recovering from my first dose of the Covid-19 vaccine so I’m not as sure about it as I’d like to be but I hope you like it! Thank you guys so much for reading!
Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain
Chapter Eighteen
Taking Care of Business Masterlist
Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​
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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years
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The Mandalorian - Imagine Din Being Protective (Part 4)
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Wow.  I got it done during a lunch break, and I’m so happy.  This is set near the end of Season 2.   It is pretty long, just a fair warning. 
Warnings: spoilers for near-end of Season 2, blasters, brief fighting.
   You watched the unusual exchange unfold before you before Mayfeld’s gaze swept over the group before flickering back to land on you.  He seemed to puff out his chest a little as he eyed you with interest.  “And who’s this lovely miss?”  Wonderful.  Just fantastic.
   Over the last several days, you learned that the Empire had been steadily recuperating behind the scenes.  The Razor Crest had been obliterated in the matter of seconds.  But worst of all, the Grogu was taken.  It was like one giant nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from, only to find yourself lying in a cot aboard the Razor Crest.  But you didn’t.  Instead, you were standing in the middle of a junkyard to recruit a prisoner who could help locate the child.  
   Now to top it off, this scruffy guy was hitting on you?
   You gave him a look, arms folded across your chest.  “The name is _________.”
   “Yeah?  Nice name for a nice girl.”
   Cara Dune made a fake wincing sound.  “I would back off if I were you.”
   He gave a shrug.  “I don’t hear her complaining.”
   “You better hope she doesn’t,” Cara taunted, giving him a warning look.  
   Mayfeld narrowed his eyes.  “Or what?  The Mandalorian is going to shoot me?”  He gave a laugh, shaking his head at the idea.
   “Thinking about it,” Din sighed in annoyance, the beskar chestplate rising and falling dramatically with the gesture.  He stood, hand resting on his belt in a casual stance just across from you, completely unaware of how content you were observing him in moments like this.  A part of you wondered if his annoyance with Mayfeld stemmed from his past experience working with the man, or if even a small part was because of the obvious flirt attempt he made at you.
   The prisoner’s eyes widened and brows lifted incredulously as he gestured to you.  “What, is this your girl now?  Finally got over Xi’an, eh?”
   You tried to keep the surprise and curiosity from your expression at the mention of this female, but your eyes instinctively darted to Din, whose visor was still glued to Mayfeld and refused to look your way.  The man caught this subtle expression and smirked.
   “Oops, sorry,” he shrugged with mock regret.  “Didn’t tell her about the ex, I guess.  I’ll try and keep things on the down-low then until you have a chance to talk about it.”
   You hadn’t asked Din too much about his past.  He expressed his disdain for the way he used to be, so you figured it was something best left untouched until he was ready to speak more on the subject.  Of course you didn’t want to assume that he had never had a love interest before, but he seemed so closed-off when you met him.  It was hard to imagine anyone could melt that ice.  Unless this Xi’an was something special.
   You felt a twinge in your chest.  It was like jealousy walked through the front door unannounced and picked a place to crash for a while.  It wasn’t taking over, but could be bothersome if you paid too much attention.  So you decided not to.  There were too many other things to worry about.
   “Alright, let’s get moving,” Cara said impatiently.  “We’re wasting time.”
   You boarded Boba Fett’s ship, taking your seat as the others did. The new ally began the take-off, and several seconds passed in silence before Din spoke up.  Mayfeld scoffed at the idea of obtaining coordinates to Moff Gideon’s ship.  Cara sighed and informed him that the kid was taken.
   The kid.  The child.
   Your little baby.  You kept seeing his face, his tiny green features and big brown eyes.  You pictured him happy as he sipped some broth and smiled at you.  Or the time shortly after you learned from the former jedi that his name was Grogu.  You and Din spent the afternoon calling him that and sharing laughs at how his ears perked.  The image was replaced with the most recent memory you had of him, when he was ripped right from your arms by strange droids at the seeing stone. You glanced down at your arms, heart sinking.  The bruises those droids left had already healed from bacta patches, but your arms had never felt so empty.
   Your thoughts were interrupted by Din’s disbelieving tone.  “Morak?  There’s nothing on Morak.”
   “It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?”  Mayfeld replied.  “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”
   Silence fell over the group again.  Cara glanced your way, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe the prisoner or not.  You gave a shrug.  This was Din’s idea, and if he thought it would work, you trusted him.
   Din commed Boba.  “Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak.”
   “Copy that.”
----------
   “I did an initial scan of the planet,” Boba said.  “This is what you’re talkin’ about, right?”
   Mayfeld gave a nod, pointing to the holomap.  “Yeah, that’s the refinery right there.”
   “Wonder what they’re refining in there,” Fennec mused.
   “Looks like rhydonium.  Highly volatile and explosive.”
   “Yeah, kinda’ like this one, huh?”  Mayfeld chuckled, gesturing to Cara.
   From where you stood, you could see Boba’s look of unamusement and practically feel Din’s annoyance as the two stared at him.  That sight almost made you laugh, but the situation wasn’t exactly a laughing matter.
   The group speculated on the measures the Empire had taken to keep its refinery secure.  It didn’t sound like getting in would be very easy.  Fortunately, between a criminal, three bounty hunters, a New Republic officer, and you, a pretty decent plan was cooked up.  They were going to hijack a delivery truck and infiltrate the refinery that way.
   The question was, who?  Who was going to hop into the truck with Mayfeld?
   As it turned out, neither Cara nor Fennec could.  The ex-ISB had rigged the scanners, and both of them would be recognized in the database.  Even Boba couldn’t, and while the others stared at him in confusion, you chuckled under your breath.  You even heard a hint of amusement in his tone as he said that they might recognize his face.
   “Great, so it’s me going in alone,” Mayfeld shrugged.
   “No way,” Cara protested.  “The minute he gets inside, he’ll tip ‘em off.  He’ll be a hero.”
   “Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” he pointed out, offended.  “I’m doin’ you guys a favor.”
   “I can go.”  You spoke up much quieter than you intended, and the bickering didn’t stop, so you tried again.  “I can go with Mayfeld.”  At that, the conversations around you came to a halt as they considered the idea.  Cara nodded, impressed, while Mayfeld eyed you curiously.
“You, uh, sure you can handle it?”  He folded his arms.
“I’ve been traveling with Mando for a while now, and I’ve helped him and Cara on multiple occasions,” you told him.  “I think I can handle walking in there and laying low while you get the coordinates.”
He held his hands up in understanding.  “Well, okay.  I think it’ll work.”
You stole a glance at Din to see his visor already fixed on you.  It was that stare.  The protective one that made you feel safe from everything else, yet vulnerable to him.  It was like the air was stolen from your lungs for just a moment.  You figured he would protest, but you hadn’t expected what he’d say next.
“I’ll go,” Din volunteered.
   Mayfeld’s gaze traveled to him, and he scoffed.  “Hey buddy, I might be good at fast-talking, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards.  So unless you’re gonna’ take off that helmet, it’s gonna’ be me and _________ heading in there.  Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”
   “That’s not an option,” you argued, feeling the pain well up at his words.  You couldn't imagine what Grogu was going through, even now as the lot of you debated how this situation was going to play out.  You didn’t want to think about it, but you kept seeing him reaching for you.
   Din’s words drew the gazes of the entire group.  “__________ isn’t going in there.  I’m coming with you instead.  But I won’t show my face.”
   “No, Mando, even if you’re going, I’m going too.”  You blinked away the tears that had just started to blur your vision, fortunately catching them before they fell, and looking at him with resolve.  “I can’t stand by and do nothing.  Not with our baby being held by the Empire.”
   It was suddenly quiet.  Much too quiet.  And that’s when you realized your mistake.  You hadn’t called Grogu the baby.  Or even just his baby.  You had definitely used the word our.  It made you want to vanish into the jungle- especially when you took in how the group was looking at you.  Cara’s lips parted in a surprised smirk as she tipped her head slightly.  Fennec raised a brow, though her expression didn’t betray her intrigue in any other way.  Even Boba Fett’s eyes seemed to soften; whether it was over your expression of care for the child or out of pity at your slip-up, you weren’t sure.  You didn’t even want to look at Din, but you found yourself staring into his visor, searching for some indication of his feelings on the matter.  There was nothing, just silence.  Mayfeld sighed, though it didn’t sound like exasperation.  It almost sounded sympathetic.
   “Look, typically for a delivery like this, there’s only two troops,” he pointed out, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.  You looked to him, glad for the attention to be taken off of you.  He caught your pleading gaze and let out another sigh.  “It’s uncommon, but not unheard of.  I think we can get by with the three of us.  But you gotta’ lay low, like you said.”  He pointed at you, and you nodded.  “Alright.  We’ve got to go.”
   The nerves were building up in your chest as you, Cara, Din, and Mayfeld dropped onto the juggernaut.  This wasn’t like going undercover at the cantina.  This was a whole other experience entirely, but you felt ready.  Before long, the two troops were taken out, and their armor taken away.
   Din disappeared around a corner to change out of his Mandalorian armor and into the Imperial trooper gear.  Mayfeld complained about the smell of his newly acquired armor, and you were grateful to be wearing the spares that were tucked away.  You found a spot on the juggernaut to slip the armor on.  It wasn’t built for a female, so it wasn’t the best fit.  Still, it would have to work.
   Suddenly, Mayfeld chuckled.  “Look at this.”  You peeked your head out of the juggernaut to see what looked like a trooper approaching, but you knew to be Din.  “Oh, the shame.  Now that right there is worth the price of admission.”
   “Wish I could say it looked good on you,” Cara said, smirking.  “But I’d be lying.”
   Din ignored her statement.  “Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunners, or we’re never getting out of there.”
   “We got you.”
   “Take care of this.”  Din handed her the duffel with his Mandalorian armor.  “Keep it safe.”  As Cara took it, she assured him with a sincere look that she would.  You knew she would.  Like you, she knew what it meant to him.
   “Hey guys. Still on the clock,” Mayfeld reminded them.  “Me and _________ are all ready to go.  Right?”  He leaned over and gave your boot a nudge from where he sat.
   You shrugged and were glad to pull the trooper bucket over your head.  For once, you could be the mysterious face under the helmet.  “I’m ready when you’re ready.”  Not to mention your voice sounded pretty cool in the modulator.  Such a shame that it was a stormtrooper helmet because you could get used to this.
   While Mayfeld was busy taunting Din in an unsuccessful attempt to get a reaction, you looked to Cara.  
   “Wish me luck.”
   “Oh, I will.”  She shot a glance at the chatty man.  “Considering the company you’re going to have.”  Then she looked back at you with that smirk from before.  “So what was that about earlier?”
   You pulled the Imperial bucket off your head so that the modulator wouldn’t broadcast your voice.  “I don’t know what happened, Cara.  I can’t believe I said that.  We’re definitely more than travelling companions at this point.  I care a lot about him. I think I even... ”
   She nodded, smirk becoming a more reassuring smile.  “I understand.  It seems like he feels the same about you.”
   “Still, I’m afraid that I overstepped in calling Grogu our child.”  You shook your head.  “He hasn’t spoken to me since.”
   “Well there’s not a whole lot of time to talk, and it’s the kinda’ thing that takes time to sort out,” she pointed out.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine-”
   “Hey, if you two ladies are done, we have to get moving,” Mayfeld called.
   “Yeah, yeah,” you groaned, pulling the helmet over your head again.  You clambered into the front of the juggernaut to get situated.  The two guys were already seated and taking a look at the vehicle’s controls.  Mayfeld seemed content to be with his helmet off, while Din of course kept his on.
   “Feels better when it’s off,” he commented, glancing over at his companion.  Din’s trooper helmet simply turned to look in his direction.  He gave a smile in response before turning his attention to the road again.  “__________, you too, huh?”
   “I don’t ever get to wear a helmet, so I’m just enjoying this while it lasts.”
   “You’re enjoying this?” Din asked.  His tone didn’t seem to carry any disdain, just innocent curiosity.
   “Well, not this.  I mean the helmet.  It’s nice to have some privacy when I’m surrounded by people who get to cover their faces.  You guys don’t know whether I’m smiling or what in here.”
      “You’re smiling right now,” Din said, making you turn your visor in his direction suddenly.
   “How did you know that?”
   “I can hear it in your voice.”  And as if to prove his point, you picked up on the amusement in his tone as well.
   Right.  You forgot for a moment that he had a lifetime to discern emotions through helmets, being that he was a foundling in a Mandalorian community and all.
   “You know, you two are just adorable,” Mayfeld interjected humorously.  “Seriously, I’m touched.”
   The conversation died down again after that.  You were rather pleased with the exchange you had with Din.  At the very least, he didn’t seem irritated with you about your earlier statement.  Things seemed to be going rather smoothly.
- - - - - - - - - 
   You’d never been so happy to see Imperial troops in your whole life.  As Mayfeld pulled the juggernaut into the safety of the Empire base, they flooded the bridge and fought off the oncoming pirates.  Din had re-entered the vehicle, groaning in pain from his fight.  You noticed his armor had been busted off in some places from the fight.
   “Mando,” you said softly, hand on his forearm.  
   His visor looked to you as he said in a strained voice, “I’m alright.”  His reassurance put you somewhat at ease.  You knew he wasn’t really fine- he had injuries- but he was okay.  He made it.
   “Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers.”  Mayfeld saluted the line of troops that saluted and waved as the vehicle passed by, most likely to make things convincing.  He and Din stepped out of the juggernaut to be met with actual applause and cheers.  One even clapped a gloved hand on Mayfeld’s shoulder in congratulations.  It would have been heartwarming if not for the fact that it was the Empire, and these people were working toward an oppressive future.  You hopped out of the vehicle, glad to be on solid ground and not on a shaky roadtrip with rhydonium in the back.
   “Okay,” Mayfeld said.  “All we gotta’ do is find a terminal.”  You moved to Din’s other side, and the three of you began making your way through the crowd of cheering troops.  His gloved hand took yours for just a moment and gave it a light squeeze, and you returned the gesture before separating.  “Should be in the officers’ mess.”
   “I’ll stand by and keep an eye out,” you said.
   “Good,” Mayfeld nodded.  “We’ll make it quick.”  You watched as the two men headed for the mess hall, and you found a spot along the wall to wait, bucket tucked under your arm.  The occasional trooper stopped by to congratulate you or give you a pat on the back.  This extended contact with Imperials was starting to get to your nerves.  
   Mayfeld and Din still hadn’t returned.  Whether you were being paranoid or not, you weren’t sure.  Better to play it safe.  You headed in the direction they had gone earlier, helmet still under your arm, and tried to act casual.  Mayfeld was standing at the doorway, eyes shifting between the floor and his surroundings.  No sign of Din.
   “Where is he?” you demanded.  “Is he okay?”
   “He’s in there.”
   You followed his gaze to the mess.  Everyone in the room had their helmet off.
   “I don’t see him.”
   Mayfeld sighed.  “He’s over there by the terminal.”  Both of you leaned in to sneak a glance, and you gasped softly.  You saw his form standing there in the very back, head of messy brown hair.  “I couldn’t go in.  He had to do a facial scan to get the information.”
   “You could’ve gotten me to do it.”
   “That’s exactly what I said.”  He shook his head.  “But we wasted enough time as it is.  He was worried about you going in there alone.  You know, he’d really do anything for that kid, and for you.”
   Oh, Din.
   “Trooper,” an officer said, and his eyes were fixed on the dark-haired man in the corner that you knew was the man you’d fallen for.  He rose from his seat, and your heart was pounding.
   “We need to do something,” you said.
   Mayfeld shook his head, eyes on the floor.  “I can’t.  I already said can’t go in there.”
   “Fine, I’ll do it.”  You straightened up, taking a deep breath, and quickly walked through the mess until you intervened the officer’s path.  “Sir.  You called for me, sir?”
   He paused, eyes narrowing, as he stared at you.  “I was referring to another trooper.  The one by that terminal.”  He moved to get around you, but you side-stepped to block him again.  “I’m sorry, you’re sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”
   He gave you a condescending look.  “No, but thanks anyway.”
   You hoped that Din had escaped the mess because there was nothing more you could do unless you caused a big scene, which was not in the plan.
   “Trooper,” he continued, stepping around you.  But to your surprise, he was faced with another.  Din had walked over.  Inwardly you burned at the thought of the Imperial officer looking at his face.  You averted your gaze, feeling as if it would be wrong not to.  Even though you wanted nothing more than to drink in his features while you could.  
   “You should pay attention when a superior officer addresses you,” the man said.  He tipped his head to one side in observation.  “What’s your designation?”
   Din spoke, voice unmodulated and sounding so small.  You’d never heard him sound so unsure before.  “Transport crew.”
   “What?” 
   “My designation is transport copilot,” Din said, forcing his tone to sound confident as possible to make it more convincing.  
   “No, son,” the officer chided.  “What’s your TK number?”
   “My TK number is…” He hesitated, and you could do nothing but stand aside and wait, holding your breath.  How many numbers were in a TK number, anyway?
   “This is my commanding officer, TK-593, sir,” Mayfeld’s voice interjected as he strolled in front of you.  He spoke so casually that you were sure he’d pull it off.  “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant Tk-111, sir.”  He gestured to you.  “This is TK-501.”  Then, he glanced at Din.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a bit since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”
   Your eyes wandered past Mayfeld, catching another glimpse of dark, messy hair.  To some it might seem a minor thing, but to you it was adding to the escalating situation.  Brown eyes locked with yours, and your breath hitched.  Din was looking at you.  There was a trace of warmth in his eyes, and your hesitation vanished.  You took in the way his brows furrowed slightly over his eyes, crinkling them at the edges.  You memorized each feature.  His nose.  This cheekbones.  The handsome way he seemed to be looking right back you.  You quickly turned your gaze back to the officer in front of you who looked in Din’s direction.
   “What’s your name, officer?” he belted, enunciating each word.  Seeing Din’s face had been a shock, and in the middle of the stress, this officer’s behavior almost made you laugh, but you swallowed the giggle that threatened to make things worse and kept your composure.  The officer leaned in, waiting for a response.
   Mayfeld took the liberty of answering instead.  “We just call him ‘Brown Eyes.’  Isn’t that right, Officer?”  Din’s eyes flickered over as he gave a hesitant nod.
   “Come on,” Mayfeld landed a hand on his shoulder and his other one on yours to lead you away.  “Let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils...”
   “You’re not dismissed.”
- - - - - - -
   In short, things had gone from bad to worse.  Mayfeld was growing shakier by the minute as this guy ranted about the Empire and the sacrifices that were made so far.  You kept glancing at Din, who looked just as concerned as you, as Mayfeld visibly became more distressed.
   Finally he raised a blaster and shot the sick man across the table.  It turned into a firefight that ended just as swiftly as it began.  Once the mess hall had quieted, Mayfeld handed Din his trooper helmet.
   “You did what you had to do,” he said.  “I never saw your face.”
   Din stared at him for a moment before accepting the helmet.  He quickly put it back over his head just as more troopers arrived on the scene.  You sprung into action, pulling out the blaster at your belt and firing.
   From there, it was just a quaint little trip out the window and along a ledge above roaring waters of the refinery with several stormtroopers in pursuit.  Shots were fired.  You ran.
   It wasn’t until you were pulled further onto Boba’s ship by Din that you were able to stop and breathe.  Mayfeld was set free by Cara and Din after he blew up the Imperial refinery, and after he left, Boba set a course for Moff Gideon’s ship.  For the first time in a while, you and Din had a moment alone as he found the duffel bag of Beskar armor.  He paused as if thinking it over, before setting the duffel back down.  The stormtrooper visor was focused on you again.  You had long removed yours, and so you gazed back with your own eyes.  Suddenly, he placed a hand on either side of his helmet and slowly began to lift.
   “Din,” you whispered, quiet enough so no one else would hear, as you gently stopped him with the touch of your hand to his wrist.  He let go of the helmet only to put his hand over yours.
   “You need to know,” he began.  “About Xi’an.”
   “What?  No, no, there’s no need.”
   “I could tell it bothered you.”
   “Well, yes… Mayfeld made it sound like she was rather important, like you just finally got over her, and it bothered me that you never mentioned her.”  You shook your head.  “But I guess there was no reason for you to.”
   “There was nothing to get over,” he said simply.  “We flirted here and there.  It wasn’t anything real.  It wasn’t love.  I think Mayfeld was just bitter because you weren’t responding to his attempts.”  The chuckle that emitted from Din’s stormtrooper helmet made you smile.  It was a sound that you never imagined getting used to.
   You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips.  “Thank you.”
   “For what?”
   “For talking with me,” you replied.  “I was worried that after earlier you were irritated.”
   “Earlier?” His tone went higher ever so slightly in realization.  “Oh, right.  Your turn to talk.”
   “My turn?” you gulped.  “No way.  Let’s just forget it happened.”
   You could almost hear the amusement as he tipped his head, the visor staring at you in silence.
   You sighed in defeat, observing your hands as you fiddled with the stormtrooper gloves.  “Alright, well...the truth is, it sort of slipped out.  I think of the kid as yours because, well, you’ve been looking after him since before I met you.  And the Mandalorian we spoke to said that you are as his father, by creed.”  You paused, glancing up at his visor before continuing.  “But...I’ve also come to think of him as my own as well.  When I met the two of you, of course I thought he was a cute little guy, but I never imagined I could love someone so much.  I adore Grogu, really, even though I haven’t cared for him as long as you…”
   “That does not matter.”
   “What?”
   “It doesn’t matter that I’ve known him longer.  You care about him, and that’s what’s important,” Din nodded.
   “I do care about him.  As my own.  And with the two of us…”
   His visor was so close all of a sudden.  “The two of us…?”
   You ducked a little, recalling how he embraced you on that planet after a tense training session.  “You know.”
   “Do I?” he teased in a low voice, helmet even closer.
   “With the two of us together, sort of, I guess I thought of us as a family...I guess.  And it slipped out earlier.  In front of all those people.”  You raised a hand to cover your face in embarrassment at the memory.  Din didn’t say anything for a moment.  He reached up to pull your hand from your face gently, and with the other he lifted the stormtrooper helmet off with a deep breath.
   As you peered into those brown eyes once more, you smiled.  He smiled too then, the movement making his eyes crinkle.  It was a lovely sight, and you lifted a hand, pausing just below his chin.
   “Is it okay?”
   He gave a small nod, and you reached up to touch his cheek.  It was a little stubbly toward his jawline.  Then you went up to start at the crease between his brows and trace down the length of his nose to his lips.  He tenderly took that hand in his and kissed the fingertips.
   “We’re going to get him back,” he said.
   You smiled again.  “I know we will.”  Then, your smile faded.  “And if we find where he belongs, with a jedi, then I am prepared to do what’s best for him.”
   His eyes look sad as he responded, “me too.”
   “For now,” you said quickly.  “Next stop is Moff Gideon’s ship.  We are going to take him down and get Grogu back.”
   With that, Din leaned in and planted a feathery light kiss on your lips.  It was something you had not expected since the moment you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian.  You never imagined that you’d end up with him, seeing his face, or kissing him.  You returned the kiss, touching his cheek again as you let him pull you closer, wrapping both arms around you.
   The last few days had felt like a nightmare that you hoped to wake up from.  But now it seemed that even in the darkness there was a glimmer of hope.  The nightmare would give way to a dream.
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jbbuckybarnes · 3 years
Text
Scared & Sacred - Ch. 2
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy, angst, lots of emotions, canon typical violence, fighting
M A S T E R L I S T
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Chapter 2 - The Letter
Every night you prepared some more food in little portions to keep you alive on the journey you would start soon. You had three pairs of every clothing in a compartment that you would put into a bag, bought another bag on the last planet to put the food, water and a blanket in. Even got a cheap med pack on the last planet. On the next planet you‘d leave. You‘d find someone to bring you back to that harmonic place where the nurse droid told you that you were expecting.
„Cyare?“ You closed the compartment as you heard him come closer. „Hm?“ You looked up at him in front of you, holding a fuzzing Grogu. „Something‘s upsetting him.“ Arms reached up and grabbed Grogu out of Din‘s gentle grasp. „Hey, sweetpea, you‘re safe here. We won‘t let anything happen to you, yeah?“ You tried to calm him a bit. It worked a tiny bit, but he wiggled free again to sit on your lap and nuzzle into your belly. „Better?“ You chuckled and got a coo of agreement, making you chuckle. Eyes wandered up to the Mandalorian again, „It‘s okay, he can sleep here.“ It would be a nice last night having Grogu sleeping right on top of you, showing love to his sibling. You started to notice that region of your body growing harder to the touch. „Do you mind if we share?“ Din‘s modulated voice reached your ears. „I‘d prefer sleeping alone, if I‘m being honest.“ You answered softly, shutting him out of your heart and bed. „Did I do anything to upset you? You‘ve been very distant since we left Arcaro.“ That was the harmonic planet, you saved the name internally. „I miss your touch.“ „Oh, no no. Just having a lot on my mind at the moment. Going through memories of my childhood and all.“ That was only half a lie, so you didn‘t feel very bad. „If you need to talk, you know I‘m there.“ You nodded softly, starting to hear Grogu snore. „Get some sleep, Din. You have people to hunt tomorrow.“ You smiled and saw him nod before heading off to his cot.
You couldn‘t sleep with the journey ahead on your mind, so you grabbed a piece of flimsy and started writing a letter to Din that you would leave behind, attaching your soup recipe that the kid liked the most. You put it in an envelope and put it between your pillow and the mattress. Shortly after the exhaustion of the day got you to fall asleep for a few hours. 
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Din and Grogu were hunting for a Corellian woman while you got the last important pieces for your journey and the ship. You filled up the food supply, bought another melee weapon and you found a very used vest that would hold off blaster shots that you put on under your gown. Once all of that was done you checked through your backpack and side bag and put them on your body. A deep breath went through you as you looked around one last time. This was a great home and protection for a while, but it was time for another chapter in your life. You‘d miss Grogu a lot, as well as the beskar armored man with the patience of a Jedi.
You headed down the main street of the city to find a ship you could fly with all the way back towards the planet of Arcaro. You ended up meeting a woman that used to be a fighter for the Republic. Hated the Empire and thought bounty hunters are annoying. Seemed safe enough. As you took off she asked, „What‘s your business here?“ „Leaving behind the people that helped me run from the people that hunted my family because I‘m with child and they weren‘t ready to accept that kinda life.“ You kept it short but clear. „Damn, that sounds like a lifestory if I ever heard one. Who knocked you up?“ She was direct. Reminded you of Cara. „The man that protected me for the last months. Very kind, kind of emotionally incompetent, definitely wouldn‘t take the news well.“ „I see.“ She nodded before jumping into hyperspace. She knew you had the credits to pay her, everything else was just listening to your interesting story and getting a good tip for a market.
— POV CHANGE —
Din stepped into his ship with Grogu. It was dead silent, not completely unusual. What was unusual was the fact you didn‘t react when he called out „Cyare?“ The child in his arms cooed in confusion and looked up at him with a frown. „She might still be caught up on the market. We‘ll wait.“ But even that plan fell away once he had fully arrived home and opened the compartment that you had fully stocked before leaving. „Oh, I‘m having a bad feeling about this,“ he whispered to himself as he closed the compartment and put the scanner on his helmet on. Only your footsteps, no others in sight. That didn‘t make sense. She never really went on walks, when she did she always was back in time to welcome him. He followed the steps and arrived in another hangar. „Hey, you there!“ He pointed at the slightly intimidated man near the hangar. „Y-Yes?“ „Have you seen a human woman in white and blue gowns, a green bag and braided hair? This big, cloak is blue too, with white details on it.“ „She went through here, yes.“ „Did she seem afraid?“ „No, she was acting normal. Talked to a woman that frequently takes travellers with her to other places. Seemed to be ready for a trip.“ „Dank ferrik! Thank you.“ NOW he was a different type of concerned. Why did you leave? Willingly! He scanned over the holopad the man held, taking in the information on it that he hoped was about the ship you were in.
When he got back he noticed one of his weapons missing in his arsenal, your blue blindfold on the co-pilot seat and everything neatly cleaned and organized in the kitchen. This was starting to kill him from the inside out. What had happened? What would make you get up and leave on purpose? From the man you loved and the child you cared for so much? He checked your bed. It wasn‘t made. The only thing in here that wasn‘t neat and tidy. And there he saw it, something sticking out from under your pillow. His mind went back to the time he found a little booklet there. A booklet about human children, medical stuff. He took off his gloves and grabbed the flimsy, opening the envelope he held in his hands shortly after and noticed it was a letter addressed at him.
*Dear Din, I know this might be confusing. That I‘m gone now, that I went without telling you. I know it‘s dangerous out there and that you are a big reason I‘m still breathing, but I couldn‘t bear the idea of making a decision benefiting you and leaving me lost. When you told me you weren‘t ready for a child, I knew I had to leave. I won‘t decide against it and I didn‘t wanna hear from your voice that I shouldn‘t keep it. I‘ll miss you. I‘ll miss Grogu. He‘ll miss his unborn sibling too. I know how excited he was for it. I‘m content with knowing that the child was created out of love. Two months and about a week ago. I hope that gives you rest about the situation. I‘ll go back to Arcaro. The place with the beautiful market and one of the best nurse droids I‘ve ever met. I‘ll figure out where to go and how to be on my own from there. I hope you don‘t mind that I took one of the weapons you barely used in the last months. Have this recipe for Grogu in return, he loves it the most and sleeps the best after eating it. Love, Y/N*
Din was drowning in an ocean of feelings. He wanted to cry, scream, beg, jump in happiness and yearned to have you in his arms. Oh, how much he wanted to have you in his arms right now. How much he wished you would‘ve told him that day. He would‘ve pushed away all your doubts. He would‘ve worshipped you, your body, the wonders happening inside of you. Instead you were running from him like he was some disgusting monster. 
He sat down in the pilots seat with Grogu on his arm and the letter in the other hand, setting it down gently and punching in the coordinates to the planet you mentioned. You‘d arrive there after him if he did this trick right. 
— POV CHANGE —
You gave the Republic lady a big tip and a hug. „It‘s rare to meet someone to talk to like this. Thank you for the ride and the long talk.“ You smiled at her and she grabbed both of your arms gently. „I land here every now and then, so if you ever see this piece of metal land, say hello.“ She grinned and let you go.
You stepped down the ramp of her vessel to see the market you loved so much fairly empty. It was really early in the morning on this planet. You got closer to the market and saw how some vendors currently refilled their little shops. „Where do you think you‘re going?“ A dark voice was audible behind you. It was familiar. „Kuuvi?“ You turned around to the man that has been hunting you for a year now. He used to be a good friend. „Yes, it‘s me.“ You turned around to him with a smile. „How have you been?“ You asked as if he didn‘t have the capacity to kill you right there. „Eating good, having a nice ship, good people around. How about you?“ He shrugged. „Except for the nice ship I can only say the same.“ „Where is your tin can?“ „Oh, he‘s just getting some supplies. Looking for a better ship at the moment. Razor Crest is great and all, but it gets crammed in there.“ You chuckled. Being royalty made you a master of lies sometimes „Twi‘ku still wants you on his doorstep.“ He gave a dirty grin. „You still work for that half-rotten idiot with bad rates? Moff Gideon would pay you so much more, I mean he‘s the source.“ „Either would pay me enough to retire if I deliver you.“ „Well, would be against the code of any guild.“ „Huh?“ „Pregnant women aren‘t allowed to be hunted.“ With a sweet grin you watched him realize the information you had just dropped and frown, enough distracted time to run one of your knives through his throat. He grabbed after you, getting out his vibroblade, but you had a gun trained on him in return, stepping on his lung and taking out the knife. „Traitor!“ You pulled the trigger and burned a hole through his heart. Two more men were running at you, one got a blastershot to the throat and the other got your new staff punched over the head.
You looked up to see people around the market hiding behind stuff, before hearing a saber lighting up behind you. „It‘s nice to see you alone for once.“ Moff Gideon. You were dead. You were so damn dead. „What do you want from me?“ you growled and heard him chuckle. „Not much, you just took something from me that you can‘t give back.“ „My brother killing your daughter isn‘t something that involves me!“ „No, but I overheard you are with child, so we might as well call it even.“ He charged at you with his dark saber, but just before it could hit you there was something big landing between you both.
„Nobody hurts my child.“ You heard his possessive and protective voice. „Oh, how sweet.“ He attacked Din ruthlessly, making you both step back further and further. Troopers came at you from left and right and you took out the second weapon you stole from Din, shooting left and right while leaned against his back. Behind you the saber strained against Din‘s arm guards. „Give up. You won‘t win this.“ Gideon hissed at him. You heard more jetpacks land behind you. Three blue Mandalorians landed in Din‘s sight behind Moff Gideon. „You have something that‘s mine and you better give it to me.“ You heard a familiar female voice. „Bo-Katan Kryze.“ His voice was somewhere between a chuckle and an unsure shakiness. There were no living stormtroopers anymore in just seconds and the four Mandalorians closed in on Moff. His saber not working on their armor. „Any last words?“ Bo-Katan asked with a serious voice. „They‘ll never stop coming for you. For your children, your family, your friends, your religion. They will always watch.“ Din put a blaster shot through his head from a low angle, „Psycho.“
He turned around to envelope you into the safety of his arms, „Cyar‘ika!“ You were shaking and gripping onto his cape, „I‘m okay. We‘re okay.“ „You can‘t just run off like that.“ He sounded wound up, probably thinking about what would‘ve happened if he hadn‘t arrived in time. „I thought-“ „Your thoughts aren‘t the reality. You really thought I‘d tell you to get rid of your unborn child. I told you children are seen as sacred in Mandalorian culture.“ You looked behind him and got a nod from a helmetless Bo-Katan, „We‘ll get this done, go talk.“ Din tightly put his arms around you and you shot up into the sky before landing on top of a building. His hands, freed from gloves, wandered over your cheeks. „I wish you would‘ve told me. I wish so much that I could‘ve been able to tell you to stop worrying and I wish you would‘ve been able to see me jump in joy at the news. I know we don‘t talk a lot, but this was the time you should‘ve talked. If I had said something negative you still could‘ve left.“ Your lip started trembling, he was right. You were so dumb for doing this. „Hey, no no, I understand why you did it, cyare.“ His helmet touched your forehead. His hands wandered down your sides, „Can I?“ You nodded and felt his hand wander over the hardened skin on your lower belly. He went on his knees before you, hands on your hips before they wandered to his helmet. „Din, no.“ You whispered and heard the hiss. „I thought about this for a long time. There is not one way, there are multiple ways that all have the same core. Look at Bo-Katan, Boba, all these people we met. I grew up in a version of this religion that doesn’t work for me anymore, I don‘t want that to be our child's life too. I want to live it our way.“ And with that the helmet came off. „They are gone, no one can hurt you two and Grogu anymore.“ „But the Empire.“ „We‘ll deal with it.“ The helmet went down and you could finally see his face. Soft face, with harsh features, smiling, „Besides. You looked pretty hot fighting off those idiots.“ „Wait till I break your hand while delivering the child.“ You chuckled with tears streaming down your face. He was so beautiful, so gentle. His nose pressed against your belly, his grip on your hips tightening just enough for you to feel even safer. „Where‘s Grogu?“ „On the ship, probably eating all the supplies.“ You both chuckled and enjoyed the moment for a while longer. „I can‘t wait to meet you, ad‘ika,“ he whispered to your unborn baby. There was so much love in his eyes that you started crying again. „Oh, cyare.“ He took your face in his hands with a caring frown on his face. „Don‘t mind me, just hormones.“ You chuckled to lighten up the situation. „My riduur.“ His bare forehead met yours. „Huh?“ „It- It means partner.“ He said it with such an innocent unsureness that you had to whisper a small, „Oh, baby.“ „I‘ll open up to you more, yeah? We‘ll find a good planet to stay.“ „I like this one so much.“ „I know, cyar‘ika. But maybe we should go to Sorgan for a while before coming back here. Grogu will have children to play with and you will be able to relax.“ His thumbs still caressed your cheeks. „Okay, my knight in shining armor.“ You smiled and kissed his nose, before taking his helmet and putting it back on his head.
You flew back to where you had fought, finding Bo-Katan with the dark saber. „I can rule over Mandalore again and you both are more than welcome there once it‘s done.“ She sent you both a smile. „We might take you up on that.“ You smiled back at her. „We‘ll clean this up and make sure nobody else is hunting for your children. We owe you for finally having this in our hands.“ She held up the saber. „Thank you,“ Din said sincerely and nodded before you said your goodbyes and went back to the ship.
You found Grogu arms deep in a jar of nectar. „Oh Grogu.“ You giggled and he turned around with his signature coo, ears falling at being caught. „It‘s alright, but don‘t do it again. You wanna see your dada‘s face?“ You asked picking him up, cleaning him with something from one of your bags. His eyes got wider and his ears perked. You let down both your bags and the cloak before turning around to Din. „Ready?“ You smiled and he nodded before taking off his helmet. The child gasped and reached for his face, so you held him up to it. He babbled while touching all over his face, Din chuckling and intently listening. Had he always looked like that beneath the helmet when talking to Grogu? „Dada.“ His and your eyes widened at that. You turned Grogu around to look at you and praised him, „Good boy, you love your dada so much, don‘t you?“ A tiny giggle came from his body before he wiggled again. „You wanna say hello to your sibling?“ Another squeak. You sat down on the floor, so did Din while also losing some parts of his armor. He watched as the child put his hands on your belly and closed his eyes, you felt the gentle tingle again. His tiny green nose nuzzled into your skin right where he felt his sibling through the force. „You‘ll see it in a couple months.“ You smiled down at Grogu and gently touched his ears. He could sense that good things happened. That you both weren‘t as worried as you usually were. „Let‘s go to Sorgan and meet the children you like playing with, yeah?“ Another happy squeak came from the green child. „Ner aliit.“ Din murmured softly. You understood without asking. You were his family now and he was yours.
___
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The stars in your eyes
Pairing: Din Djarin x reader
word count: 1.1k
summary: Din notices you have been distant and different, so he pushes his nervousness away and comforts you in the best way. 
warnings: angst, PTSD, fluff, sad!reader.
Requested? Yes! by the lovely @just-trying-to-survive-marvel  🥺💗. Thank you for trusting me with this angel, hope you like it! sorry it’s kinda short :(
(gif by the lovely @josepedropascal 🥰)
💗💗💗💗💗
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The suns were setting on Tatooine as Din walked back to the crest with the little green bundle of joy secured in his arms. His mind kept on focusing on the same thing over and over again, making the anxiety rise in his chest as he exhaled. The Mandalorian figured Grogu must have felt the same way because he kept quiet during the whole trip, which was unusual for him. His ears flopped down in concern as his dad entered the crest, trying not to make too much noise; his big eyes looked at him in concern, quietly asking him what was going on. Din’s heart broke as he saw his son’s eyes so sad and concerned - and he knew his eyes must’ve looked like that too. 
Both Din and Grogu were oh so worried, for you. You hadn’t been your usual cheerful self, your energy was missing in the ship, although you were right there. Din noticed almost immediately, throwing you worried glances through his helmet (which he knew you couldn’t see) every now and then. You didn’t seem to notice, but when he asked if something was wrong, you shook your head and gave him a fake smile trying to convince him you were just fine. Din didn’t want to push or pressure you in any sort of way, so even though he didn’t believe you, he nodded and gave you some space. 
But that was almost half a week ago, and now he was growing sadder and sadder every day. He immediately started searching for you hoping to find your beautiful eyes staring up at him with that dashing smile he knew you gave only to him. But as none of that happened, patting, he started running around, calling out your name, worried sick, thinking you left the ship and wandered in Tatooine all by yourself. 
The anxiety left momentarily his body as he saw you sitting in the cockpit, your feet dangling not far from the ground, absolutely quiet and lost in thought, looking at the magnificent view before you. You didn’t even hear them come back in. 
As soon as he saw your tear-stained face, the anxiety came right back, his heart shattering. Din knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave you all by yourself and he and Grogu wondered in the planet, but he didn’t have the heart to wake you up as he saw you sleeping so peacefully in your shared cot before they left. You had been sleeping a lot more than you usually did, which did nothing but aggravate Din’s worries, caging his anxiety in his chest.
He and Grogu kept quiet as they approached you to avoid startling you. Din knelt beside you and seeing as you were still lost in thought, he reached out a hand to caress your face. You flinched away from his touch, closing your eyes. You couldn’t see his eyes, but as Din saw you react to his touch he felt his heart fall to the ground and jerked his hand away, shocked at the fear he’d caused you. He felt tears swell in his eyes, because he may have been a cold hearted, intimidating Mandalorian to others, he never expected you to be the one frightened by his hand. He blinked the tears away and got up, leaving to put the kid in his sleeping place. 
He slowly approached the cockpit again, careful and keeping his distance, Din looked up at you the sad look on your face as you lifted your arms up for him to hold you. Din let out a breath he didn’t knew he was holding in and immediately secured you in his arms. You stood like that for a while, both holding on to each other as you cried silently and kept on repeating “I’m sorry” over and over again. He hushed you gently, rocking you back and forth and then lifting you up to sit in the pilot’s seat with you on his lap and your head resting on his chest. He held you tight, afraid of letting you go, afraid you’d shatter in a million little pieces. 
After a while, you looked up at him, eyes shining with tears, the black line of Din’s helmet staring back at you. He waited for you to talk, pressing his cold helmet to your forehead. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, feeling your chest get heavy over again. 
“Hey cyar’ika, look at me, it’s fine. Everything will be just fine. I don’t want to pressure you, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just know I will always be here to hold you close to my heart, know that I will do anything to put back those beautiful stars in your eyes, my runi” Din whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His words put a smile on your face because you knew he was not a man of words, but rather actions. And as he was talking to you softly, holding you lovingly in his arms, you whispered something to him. 
“I love you Din”
You felt his heart skip a beat and then it started beating so loudly in his chest, you couldn’t help but laugh quietly. You slightly pulled away to look at him and placed a hand on his helmet, you couldn’t see his eyes but you knew the look he was giving you, so full of love and yet he was speechless. You smiled softly and placed a kiss on his neck, where you could feel his soft skin. 
“It was on a day like this” you said, lips still close to his neck. You began explaining what had happened to you, all those moons ago, tears running down Din’s cuirass. Every word, every image, came rushing back to you. The mandalorian began stroking your hair softly, in a loving manner to try to calm you down, but listening closely and focusing on what you had to say. 
The night had fallen in Tatooine when you finished explaining to your mandalorian the reason for your sadness and why you had been shutting him out for the past few days. Why you couldn’t hold it in anymore, why you were so afraid. Din had patiently waited and listened to all you had to say and when you were done he pulled you away from him, still holding you in one arm while he placed the other one on his helmet. He lifted it just enough for you to see his mouth, soft and plush. Your breath got caught in your throat as you looked at his mouth for the very first time. 
“I love you, ner kar’ta” Din said as he put his lips softly onto yours. You kissed him gently, holding the helmet in place as your lips moved together. The angle was a little weird but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything or anyone else. Din felt and looked like an angel, making you feel oh so loved. 
You were so in love with your mandalorian and your mandalorian was so in love with you. 
💗💗💗💗💗
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shygirlwriter · 3 years
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here, have some mando s2 finale meta
yeah so idrk how everyone tags their spoilers here (I think I hit the big tags), but this contains FULL SPOILERS for the mandalorian, up to and including s2ep8, “Chapter 16: The Rescue.” and just to be upfront, I enjoyed the episode overall and think that there is potential in the new story they seem to be setting up for s3 and beyond. I do not think it completely shit the bed-- the first 40ish (out of a total 45) minutes of the episode were really great, old-school Star Wars stuff. but I 100% understand, and in broad strokes agree with, the criticisms I’ve seen from others. this got way longer than I thought it would so i’m putting it under a cut.
but I think the biggest thing about the mando s2 finale is that it indicates that the production team thinks that they’ve been making an entirely different show than the viewers have been seeing. and I think it comes down to lack of setup of themes, then constructing the finale as if there was that setup, leading to unearned (supposed) catharsis. 
I understand how Favreau, Filoni and Co. came to the decision to end it the way they did, and I think that there is a universe where this ending can be satisfying. on its face, if you don’t take emotions into account, it is indeed a satisfying conclusion to the particular story arc of the season. Din has accomplished the task (return the kid to the Jedi) he was given at the end of s1. Grogu was reunited with a Jedi who can and will train him. Din recognizes that he is unable to care for Grogu the way he needs to be cared for (i.e. he knows pretty much nothing about the Force, the Jedi or what “Jedi training” entails) and lets him go with Luke.
unfortunately, this show (and s2 in particular) has been all about the emotions. Even from the very first episode of season 1, when Din shoots IG-11 to prevent him from killing the baby. The closing image of the premiere-- Din reaching into that little cradle with his finger --became an iconic image immediately. the end of s1 literally came out and had the Armorer straight-up tell Din that since the kid is a foundling, until he can be returned to the Jedi, he is his father. and season 2 has only reinforced that-- aside from all the cute single-dad moments of him taking care of Grogu, there’s Ahsoka specifically noting their strong bond in “The Jedi,” and the fact that he willingly (albeit as an absolute last resort) removes his helmet in “The Believer” for the express purpose of obtaining coordinates to Gideon’s ship so that he can rescue the kid. Not to mention other characters (Cara, Mayfeld, etc.) referring to Grogu as Din’s child. do not act like Din was not secretly relieved when Ahsoka went back on her part of the deal and said that she couldn’t train Grogu (BECAUSE HE’S TOO ATTACHED TO HIS PAPA!) 
and then the finale comes and expects us to believe that he would willingly a) remove his helmet in a roomful of people, and b) hand over the kid, even to a Jedi. neither of these things make sense with the character of Din Djarin as he’s been presented in the show thus far. 
point the first: at no point has the show spent more than 30 seconds at a time forcing Din to reckon with the idea of having to give up the kid. this one’s pretty self-explanatory, and imo is just lazy writing. 
point the second: the show never demonstrated a crisis of faith on Din’s part. which is especially weird, since it seems like it set one up and then never followed through on it. Bo-Katan and her crew immediately write Din off as a cultist in “The Heiress,” which seemed at the time to be setting up a thematic arc of Din questioning his faith. (even though Bo-Katan is immeidately hella derisive of Din’s faith to the creed, and “The Rescue further demonstrates her (and Koska too, tbf) to be a Bad Person when she’s shown being space-racist toward Boba.) The show re-canonizes Jango Fett (and Boba, by extension) as Mandalorians, and Boba shows Din the chain code in his armor in “The Tragedy.” But while he doesn’t criticize Din’s dedication to the creed, Boba does seem to be more of the helmet-optional type in his older age. This is the perfect setup to have Din question, at the very least, the helmet-on-always aspect of the creed-- even if he doesn’t take Bo-Katan’s words on their face, Boba’s chain-code bona fides do prove his heritage and he’s seen without the helmet --but nothing really ever comes of it.
Din removing his helmet in a roomful of his friends/allies to say goodbye to Grogu seems like it wants to be a cathartic moment, combining both saying goodbye to his son and decisively violating the creed he has lived by his entire life (and I argue this is different from taking off the helmet in “The Believer” since he does not immediately put it back on at the first opportunity, like he does after the shootout in the officers’ mess), but the show did not do the necessary setup work for that to track as a catharsis. 
I don’t necessarily have a problem if Favreau, Filoni, and Co. wanted to wrap up this arc in s2 so they can move in different direction with season 3. Din bested Gideon in combat and earned the darksaber, which now I guess makes him manda’lor (a title he doesn’t even get a chance to fully accept/process before the darktroopers and Luke’s x-wing show up), and now has to contend with Bo-Katan (and possibly other members of the Mandalorian diaspora, but we’ll see.) Pivoting into a show about Mandalorian politics is not necessarily a bad idea. The problem is that, once again, there has been little-to-no buildup in this direction! The show never gave us any indication that Din had any desire to get involved in Mandalorian politics, even at the beginning of the very same episode when he tells Bo-Katan that if she can help him get Grogu back, she can have whatever she wants including the darksaber.
could this have worked? could we see a world in which Din, after meeting other Mandalorians with different relationships to the creed, questioned his own loyalty to it? could we see a world in which Din slowly comes to terms with the prospect of leaving Grogu, and being sad about, it but also realizing that the child will be better off with a Jedi who understands the Force and can train him?
on both those counts, I say absolutely yes! but we would have needed several more episodes’ worth of set-up for this to have landed with the kind of impact “The Rescue” thinks it has. Din Djarin and Grogu’s story seemingly ends with a whimper.
(And on a tangentially related note, I’m more than a little concerned about the post-credits stinger with Boba and Fennec. Do I really like what Temuera Morrison and Ming-Na Wen have done with these characters in just a handful of episodes? Hell yeah, I do! Am I excited to see an OG Star Wars character, who got shafted real hard when Disney acquired Lucasfilm and de-canonized most of the EU, get to be badass again (and be badass while being played by an older (Morrison is like 60) man of color, who’s also returning to a role he kinda-sorta played twenty years ago)? Hell yeah, I am, because I Am A Boba Fett Stan Now, I Guess!)
(I know not to put much stock in the rumors about on-set conflicts during production of s2 and Pedro Pascal allegedly leaving the show, since they’ve been publicly rebuked by the man himself and multiple entertainment-news articles I’ve seen indicate he’s confirmed by sources to return for s3. But the increased prominence of another Mandalorian character in the latter part of this season, coupled with the announcement that The Book of Boba Fett will debut in December 2021, aka the same time frame as Mando s3, does have me a smidge on edge about the possibility of making this show into an anthology with s1-2 focused on Din and s3 (at least) focused on Boba. Sure, Din Djarin is “The Mandalorian” of the title, but he’s by no means the only Mandalorian on the show.) 
tl;dr: s2 of the mandalorian sets up a lot of interesting thematic material, then doesn’t follow up on it, but constructs its ending as if it did. and that’s why I think it feels uniquely unsatisfying to a lot of fans. 
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blademaster122 · 2 years
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Stars Are Red Chapter 2
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Chapter 2: Assassin Intell
Fennac saw the  palace she thought that Boba and Din was injured or worse dead she ran into the palace to the trown room seeing Boba and Din with a man who looked like an assassin.
"Boba are you guys alright?" She removed the weapon from her back and loaded it. "I leave the two of you alone a couple of hours and this is what happens?"
Din sighs "look Fennac we are fine actually better than fine we had some help."
"Who exactly is that?"
"He's talking about me."
Fennac turned around to see a woman in red Mandalorian armor.  But her helmet was off and in her arms brown hair in a braid to the side.
"I'm Shine your Fennac for what I was told I'm here because Bo Katan is after Din she wants the darksaber and since.  Din won't fight her for it she gotten through her head that she can take it if he's dead."
"so who's the lovely friend we got over here?"
"Someone who tried to shoot Din's brains out that's who." Boba butted in
The assassin gave a light chuckle
"You do want you can to survive isn't that right Din?"
"You sure put a few holes in the walls pretty high weapon he's got." Fennac was quick to anwer.
Boba nods she was right "Here see if you can get a good look at this weapon Fennec."
He threw the weapon over to her and she caught it.  "I think I'd be able to that we got a place to keep our friend here?"
"My name is Hill Sky I go by Hill." The sniper spit out.
"Where exactly are you from?" Shine asked
"What's it to you princess it's clear that you don't care for your kind?"
Din pulls his knife from is boot and places it to his throat.
"Answer her!!"
"Whoa some is getting triggered here aren't we?"
Shine places her hand on Din's shoulder.
"Din Stop he's not wroth it."
"It's kinda hard when he tried to kill me! " Din said annoyed.
"Stop It she's right lower the knife your not a monster Din!!" Boba yelled at him.
Din knocked the assassin over and placed his knife back into his boot.  Grogu made another coo noise he was in the room watching.
Din turned and looked at him "I thought I told you to stay in the room?" Grogu let out a huge toothy smile.
A deep laugh came from the assassin "Wow I heard the stories of the little one but I didn't know he was snot green."
Grogu smile turned into a frown with what he had said his hand came up over the words and he started to float the assassin in the air and was quick to throw him against the wall hard.
"Ahhh!!!" The assassin screamed in horror.  "I'm gonna kill that little brat!!"
Shine picked up Grogu "Hey that's enough we already tried to keep your dad from trying to kill him we don't need you to try the same!"
Grogu lowers his hand and looks at his dad he moved both of his hands up his way clearly wanting his dad to pick him up.  Din walked over and picked him up from Shine.
"I would have done something like it too if he called me snot green." Din Commented.
Once again the smile returned to Grogu face the assassin stood back up or tried Boba and Fennac held him up with both arms.
Shine was shocked on how someone as little as Grogu can pick someone up like that and toss them like a rag doll then going back to a laugher and a smile.
Grogu had his little hands over Din's the little smile he had made Shine chuckle.  A huge roar came from the downstairs.
"Now What!!?" Shine yelled out loud
"It's the Rancor." Boba spit out he shaked his left hand.  "I'll take of it."
"The hell is a Rancor??" Shine asked
"It's a monster type alien as far as I know. Din anwered.
Hill let out a very loud unsettling laugh out he was quick to get out off Boba and Fennac's arms with a rifle he moved from his boot and was quick to fire it out.
"So long Din Djain." Laughing evily  then a loud bang
It took everyone a second including Din to understand what he was talking about then he felt the sharp pain in his neck he put his hand to it to feel something hot and sticky get on his glove it was blood he was bleeding.  Shine's eyes widened he has been shot in the neck.
"Din your bleeding!!" Shine cried
Din sighed clearly off guard he was quick to respond.
"It's fine only gazed my neck didn't do to much damage."
Fennac walked over to him Boba was worried but ends up dragging Hill somewhere he wouldn't hurt anyone else.
"Move your hand I wanna see it."  Fennac orders Din.
Din didn't cause a stir he removed his hand yes he was bleeding but he was right it barely hit his next only the side of it made a huge cut.  Shine let out a breath of relief she barely met the guy and here an assassin had tried to blast his ass twice already.
Fennac pulled out a bandage from her pocket and started to rap it around Din's wound it took a few minutes to fully wrap it up.  Soon blood soaked the bandage but it didn't soak through completely but one could tell that there was an injury there.
Grogu made a yelp it was clearly a worried one he saw the blood that was dripping down Din's wound he tried to touch it trying to heal it but Din grabs his little hand.
"I don't think this is something you can heal Grogu. "
Shine shakes her head "wait he can heal injuries?"
Din nods "But Only Small injuries."  He sighed "besides I've been injured before this is nothing."
First thing coming to Shine's mind "What the hell am I getting myself into."
author notes: I update this fanfic more on Wattpad so check out my Wattpad.
read chapter one: https://www.wattpad.com/1205404713-stars-are-red-chapter-1
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