in honor of mando and grogu coming out soon: what are your favorite din djarin fics??
hiiii nonnie friend!! 👋🏼 thank you for this ask, I’m soooo in love with our fave beskar clad space dad and his green little baby!! there are so many good fics about din around and I’m always in awe of the talented writers who share their work with us. here’s a random selection of some of my faves:
🌌 Stars fading by the talented @bergamote-catsandbooks
🌌 Touchstone by the talented @sawymredfox
🌌 It’s getting tight by the talented @queenofslowburn
🌌 The Long Way Round by the talented @din-cognito
🌌 locked out of heaven by the talented @quinnnfabrgay
🌌 Sight Unseen by the talented @reedispunk
🌌 Brown Eyes by the talented @thedivinereverie
🌌 long gone and found (two parts of the same story) and Meet the Teacher by the talented @burntheedges
🌌 Surgar, Spice and, Starlight by the talented @lamentationsofalonelypotato (link to first part of the series)
🌌 Best Kept Secret by the talented @lincolndjarin (link to first part of the series)
this list is by no means exhaustive and please feel free to drop your fic recs in the comments too!! 💫
Summary: You saw Hiyori and Zoro sleep together in a bed and you ran away, thinking of the worst.
Song: WINE - Rema
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
The biting wind whipped your cloak around you, a constant, unwelcome embrace. You pulled it tighter, the rough wool doing little to ward off the gnawing chill that seemed to seep into your very bones. Wano Country, even in its supposed peace, held a formidable cold, especially in the shadowed, less traveled corners of the land.
You were looking for him, for Zoro, a familiar gnawing in your gut that wasn’t entirely due to the weather. He had been out on a mission, a solo venture that had stretched far longer than expected. Concern, a warm ember in the frigid air, had finally gotten the better of you.
You moved through the sparsely populated outskirts of a village, the snow-laden trees arching like skeletal fingers against the bruised twilight sky. The path ahead was barely visible, a ghostly suggestion through the deepening gloom.
It was then, through a break in the trees, that you spotted it – an old, isolated house, its thatched roof heavy with snow, a single, faint light glowing from a window. A flicker of hope, or perhaps just curiosity, drew you closer.
As you approached, the sounds of the wind seemed to soften, replaced by a hushed stillness emanating from the house. You crept towards the window, your heart thrumming a nervous rhythm against your ribs. The light within was warm, inviting, a stark contrast to the relentless cold outside. You peered in, your breath catching in your throat.
And then you saw them.
Hiyori. And Zoro.
They were asleep. Together. In a single bed, their bodies curled against each other for warmth. Hiyori was nestled against Zoro’s broad back, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow. Zoro’s arm was draped loosely around her, a protective gesture even in slumber. The scene was one of unexpected intimacy, of quiet comfort found in the desolate landscape.
A hundred emotions, sharp and disorienting, crashed over you. Shock, a bitter wave of disbelief, a fierce, unbidden pang of something akin to jealousy. Your mind, already on edge from worry, churned with a thousand worst-case scenarios.
This wasn't just a shared bed for shelter; there was an undeniable closeness, a trust that spoke of a bond far deeper than mere friendship. The image seared itself into your mind, a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade.
Without a second thought, spurred by a sudden, overwhelming urge to flee, you spun around, your boots crunching on the frozen ground. You ran. You ran as if the very demons of Wano were at your heels, the image of their sleeping forms a burning brand behind your eyes.
The cold air stung your lungs, but you barely registered it, fueled by a desperate need to put distance between yourself and that scene, between yourself and your shattered expectations.
Your rapid footsteps echoed in the sudden silence of the woods. You didn't look back, didn't dare. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig beneath your feet, sounded like an approaching threat.
The trees seemed to close in, their shadows twisting into grotesque shapes. Then, a sharp crack echoed nearby, followed by the distinct sound of movement – not the wind, but something deliberate, something with intent.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness, a hulking silhouette against the pale snow. Another followed, and then another. You were surrounded. Panic flared, hot and suffocating.
You were caught, ambushed, your flight cut short by this unexpected, terrifying turn of events. The wolves of Wano, they called them, the hunters who preyed on the lost and the vulnerable. You had stumbled right into their den.
Just as the first of them lunged, a guttural roar tore through the night, a sound that vibrated with raw power. It was a sound you knew, a sound that had always represented unwavering strength, unyielding resolve.
Zoro.
He burst from the trees, a whirlwind of emerald fury. His sword, a glint of polished steel in the dim light, moved with impossible speed, deflecting the first attack with a clang that sent sparks flying.
His eyes, sharp and ablaze, were fixed on your attackers, but his presence was a palpable shield around you. He had woken, heard your panicked flight, and come running.
The attackers, now facing the legendary swordsman, faltered for a moment, their initial aggression tempered by a healthy dose of fear. But they were desperate, their numbers a clear advantage. They pressed their attack, their movements coordinated and brutal.
You watched, frozen for a moment by the sheer force of Zoro's intervention, then by the terrifying reality of your situation. You weren't just in danger; you were the bait. They had seen you, and now they had him.
Zoro moved with a ferocity you’d only witnessed in the heat of battle against truly formidable foes. He parried, he dodged, he struck with precision, each movement economical and deadly. Yet, even as he fought with the skill of a demon, you could see the strain.
He was still recovering, his movements not quite at their peak. And his focus was divided – on defending you, on dispatching these attackers, and perhaps, a flicker of worry in his sharp gaze when he glanced your way.
You couldn’t just stand by. Your own survival instinct, buried beneath the shock of what you’d seen earlier, surged to the forefront. You were no damsel in distress. Drawing your own weapon, a familiar weight in your hand, you joined the fray, aiming to create even a sliver of an opening for Zoro, to distract them, to show you weren’t entirely helpless.
The fight was a desperate dance in the snow. The attackers were relentless, their desperation fueling their aggression. You fought back-to-back with Zoro, a chaotic symphony of steel on steel, grunts of effort, and the hiss of wind.
Every time you felt yourself faltering, a powerful presence beside you would hold the line, a silent testament to his unspoken promise of protection.
He moved you behind him, his voice a low growl, "Stay back." But you couldn't, not entirely. The earlier vision was receding, replaced by the stark reality of the present danger, and the undeniable fact of Zoro’s protection.
With a final, powerful surge, Zoro disarmed two of the attackers in quick succession. Their companions, seeing their advantage dwindle, hesitated. Zoro, seizing the moment, let out a fearsome yell and unleashed a devastating flurry of strikes.
The remaining attackers, realizing they could not win, scattered into the darkness, their howls of pain and frustration fading into the night.
Silence descended, broken only by your ragged breaths and the crunch of snow under Zoro’s boots as he turned to face you. His chest heaved, his muscles still coiled with the residue of battle. His gaze, usually so direct and unwavering, held a hint of something unreadable as it swept over you.
"You… you're alright?" he rasped, his voice rough with exertion.
You nodded, your own breath catching in your throat. You were alright, physically. Mentally, however, you were a tangled mess of conflicting emotions.
The sight of him, so fierce and protective, fighting for you, had stirred something deep within. But the image from the house, the one that had sent you running, still lingered, a phantom ache.
"I… I saw you," you managed, your voice barely a whisper. "At the house."
Zoro’s brow furrowed, his gaze sharpening. He stepped closer, and you braced yourself for an explanation, for anger, for anything other than the quiet understanding that began to dawn in his eyes.
"Hiyori?" he asked, his voice softer now.
You nodded again, unable to meet his gaze. The shame of your hasty retreat, of your misinterpretation, washed over you.
He let out a sigh, a puff of steam in the frigid air. "It wasn't what you think."
He reached out, his calloused fingers gently cupping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his intense stare. "The night was like this," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I was injured. Badly. She found me. The house… it was the only shelter."
He paused, his thumb tracing a gentle stroke across your cheekbone. "She took me in. Cleaned my wounds. Kept me warm. For a time, I was delirious with fever. She… she stayed by my side. She is a kind woman. And she was… she was helping me heal."
His words were a balm, slowly easing the tightness in your chest. He wasn't hiding anything. He was telling you the truth, the unvarnished, unglamorous truth of survival and kindness. The intimacy you had witnessed was born of necessity, of a shared vulnerability in a harsh world.
"And… you slept together?" you asked, the question still heavy with residual doubt.
A faint smile touched the corners of his lips, a rare, genuine thing. "Yes. We slept together. For warmth. For protection. You were running through the woods, alone, in the cold. I heard you. I came after you. Because that’s what I do. I protect those I care about."
His gaze held yours, unwavering now. The intensity wasn't just about the fight; it was about you. It was about the concern he clearly felt, the relief that you were safe.
"I… I ran," you admitted, your voice catching. "I thought… I thought the worst."
"I know," he said, his tone understanding. "And I'm glad you're safe. But I would have found you. Always."
He then lowered his hand, but his presence remained, a radiating warmth that had nothing to do with the physical proximity. You stood there in the quiet aftermath, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body, replaced by a different kind of energy.
The fear was gone, but the confusion remained, tangled with a growing sense of… something else. Something that felt surprisingly hopeful.
The next few days were spent in a strange, new equilibrium. You stayed with Zoro, helping him to recover further, the wilderness retreat offering a much-needed privacy. Hiyori, true to her nature, was gracious and understanding when you finally encountered her again at the house.
She explained her situation, her own anxieties about the changing times in Wano, and her desire to forge alliances. She spoke of Zoro with a deep respect, acknowledging his strength and his protective nature, but her gaze when she looked at him held only the warmth of a grateful friend.
The incident in the woods, however, had shifted something between you and Zoro. The unspoken understanding had been laid bare. You had seen his vulnerability, his reliance on Hiyori’s care, and then, his instant, fierce protection of you. And he, in turn, had seen your fear, your mistaken assumption, and your courage in joining the fight.
One evening, as the fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the small house, Hiyori presented Zoro with a sword. It was a magnificent weapon, its hilt adorned with intricate carvings, its blade gleaming with an almost ethereal light.
"This is Enma," she said, her voice filled with reverence. "It belonged to my father, Kozuki Oden. He entrusted me with it, and I entrust it to you, Zoro. You are the only one in Wano, perhaps in all the seas, who is worthy of wielding such a blade. For its power, and for the burden it carries."
Zoro accepted the sword with a solemn nod, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and respect. He ran a hand along its hilt, a silent communication passing between him and the legendary weapon. You watched the exchange, a silent witness to history being forged.
As the weeks turned into a month, your bond with Zoro deepened. You found yourself drawn to his quiet strength, to the way he moved through the world with such unwavering purpose.
You learned about his past, his ambition to become the world’s greatest swordsman, his loyalty to Luffy. And he, in turn, began to share more of himself. He spoke of his training, of his mentors, of the wounds he carried, both physical and emotional.
There were moments, quiet and stolen, when your hands would brush, sending a jolt of awareness through you. There were conversations that stretched late into the night, fueled by a growing curiosity about each other’s souls.
You learned to read the subtle shifts in his expression, the quiet hum of his presence. He was no longer just the strong, silent swordsman; he was a complex individual, burdened by his past but driven by a fierce loyalty and an unshakeable sense of justice.
One particularly cold night, the wind howled outside, rattling the shutters of the house. You were huddled near the fire, a blanket wrapped tightly around you, when Zoro entered the room. He looked tired, the day’s training having taken its toll. He glanced at the empty space beside you, then back at your face.
"Cold?" he asked, his voice low.
You nodded, your teeth chattering slightly. "A little."
Without a word, he moved towards the bed. He pulled back the blankets, then lay down beside you, his broad back a solid, comforting presence. He didn't touch you, not immediately. He simply lay there, his breathing evening out, a silent anchor in the storm.
You hesitated for a moment, then slowly, tentatively, you shifted closer. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, a potent antidote to the biting cold. You rested your head against his shoulder, the rough fabric of his gi a familiar texture against your cheek.
He let out a soft sigh, and then, very slowly, his arm came to rest around you, pulling you gently against him. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own. There was no awkwardness, no pretense, just a profound sense of peace. In that moment, with the wind howling outside and the warmth of his body a shield against the world, you felt utterly safe.
It was more than just warmth you found in his embrace. It was a deep, unspoken understanding, a trust that had been forged in the crucible of shared experiences. The image from that first night at the house, the one that had sent you running in fear and confusion, now seemed like a distant, almost laughable memory.
What you had witnessed then, was not a betrayal, but a moment of unexpected vulnerability, of human connection in its purest form.
You realized, as you drifted into a peaceful sleep, nestled against the man who had fought for you, who had shared his quiet strength with you, that your journey with Zoro was just beginning.
And the path ahead, though uncertain, felt filled with a warmth that would banish any lingering cold. . . .
I’m sort of hoping that Franky will make him a Terminator eye that shoots laser beams or something… Not because Zoro wants it but because Franky, Luffy, Chopper and Usopp think it’s the coolest thing ever.
2087
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