Jem | she/her | 🇬🇧 | writer | 42 In love with Din Djarin (👉🏻 other Pedro boys) Tumblr Masterlist | AO3 Masterlist 🔞 Minors DNI – explicit content 🔞 Join my tag list
A novel-length secret relationship story set after season 3, with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully developed characterisation.
Summary: A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Karga’s adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isn’t as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC!Reader (she’s physically a blank slate but has a canon-compliant background, so she’s you if you were born in the Star Wars Universe)
Word Count: TBC (>100k words in 16 chapters)
Author’s Note: This fic started as a oneshot for @burntheedges’s Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge in August 2024, but it accidentally turned into a novel – oops! It took me so long to write and edit (21 months!) because I’ve genuinely slaved over it. After I finished the first draft, I took some writing classes, then went back and edited every single word to get it perfect. It’s turned into something I’m really proud of, so I hope you enjoy! As always, concepts and lore are accurately researched to satisfy Star Wars nerds but also referenced/explained to ensure those less familiar with the franchise can enjoy and understand everything, too.
*** FULLY WRITTEN, CHAPTERS RELEASED EVERY THIRD SATURDAY ***
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
Damn it Mando, that really was reckless and stupid. He got real lucky that she’s so well versed in treating his injuries. Can’t wait to read how this whole flaying alive business will go! And I’m looking forward to her pov, how she’s dealing with that closeness to Mando!
Rules: make a poll with 10 of your favourite shows (they can just be 10 shows you loved watching or your top shows of all time), then tag 10 people.
Thanks for the tag @quinnnfabrgay 💖
This was pretty impossible to do, so I’ve gone with my all-time faves, and since I’m getting on in years now, some of them are kinda old. These are all shows I will watch over and over (and have).
Pick your favourite of my favourites...
Battlestar Galactica (2004–2009)
Bones (2005–2017)
Community (2009–2015)
Doctor Who (2005–2022)
Elementary (2012–2019)
Fringe (2008–2013)
Grimm (2011–2017)
House, M.D. (2004–2012)
The Mandalorian (2019– )
Stargate: SG1 (1997–2007)
Voting ended onJun 25
I’m just now realising how many of these shows feature autistic-coded characters 😃
Honourable mentions to the following as well, which were very firmly on the list and were very reluctantly culled...
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
AHHHHHHHHHHH! I LOVE THIS STORY SO DAMN MUCH I HAVE TO SCREAM ABOUT IT!!!!! YAHHHHHHH!!!! EEEEEEE!!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!
Okay, now that that's done...
There was so much here! This chapter had everything! Wound care. Trust. Dark humor. Mistrust. Competency. Respect. Attraction. Creed trauma. Creed protection. Intimacy. Fear. Relief.... I could go on.
Everything is so detailed and visual. It really feels like I am in that tiny cabin watching this all unfold. Not like an episode from the show or like a scene from the movie. Like I am there. In the cabin. Like I can hear the hiss of the injector and his helmet, like I can smell the burnt and melted fabric, like I can see the sincerity on Reader's face. It's masterful.
I think my favorite thing about this chapter was how Din seemed so pleasantly surprised by her willingness to honor his vows and beliefs despite the fact that she literally says "I don't get it but I understand." Him noticing the reverence she uses to remove and lay out his armor, the way she asks permission before even wiping his visor clean so he can see better (I'm looking at you, handsy Omera), her insistence that he needs to drink or else nothing she's doing will matter, and the solution she comes up with to make that possible, the way she doesn't flinch when he growls at her like a dog all because she is putting saving his life and saving his Creed on the same level of importance. No wonder he nuzzled that sleeve. He just fell in love.
Wait the sleeve nuzzling deserves more than one line here. TOUCH STARVED DIN I LOVE YOU. This is the equivalent of saying "sure, I'll have a slice (1) of pie!" and then taking one bite only to find out it is the single most delicious thing you've ever eaten, in fact it makes all other food taste like sand, and before you know it you are eating the entire pie out of the tin with a fork standing in front of the fridge. He was like italicized oh, this is NICE. And then the ache of her missing contact when she moved away? PLEASE! THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG.
Oh, he is going to be in so much pain as she starts to deal with these injuries, and I am going to hate that for him. But he is in the best hands possible (and if all else fails, maybe Grogu can hit him with the magic hand thing) and he is very, stubbornly tough, so I know he'll be okay.
I'm so curious about what might happen when/if IG were to take a trip to deliver more supplies. Would he snitch to Greef about Din being there? The N-1 is parked in the driveway, it's not like its a secret. Also, Din's little pang of "why would he be so hell bent on his niece not being around me? :(" made me so sad. (maybe it has something to do with the fact that Greef knows that your go-to answer to someone seeing your face even accidentally is "well I'll just kill them", Dinjamin, just sayin')
AHHHHHH this is the sort of review every author dreams about 🥲 Alyssa, I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to provide such in-depth and insightful feedback - you are amazing!
I lolled at “handsy Omera” (she really was, wasn’t she?). I love writing a reader who surprises Din. I feel like he thinks he’s pretty well-versed in how the galaxy works and can predict how most people will react to him, so I really enjoy turning his expectations upside down and introducing him to a strong woman who is also kind to the core. The sort of qualities he clearly liked in Omera, but in a less patronising (and less handsy) package, and with less krill farming involved.
And since it’s literally in the summary, I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say that your pie metaphor is going to be surprisingly prescient much later in the fic, when, after spending the whole of lockdown eating said pie (albeit with no actual pie eating because, y’know, helmet), suddenly Din finds himself pie-less and wholly pie-addicted.
I’m so excited for you to learn the answers to all the things you’re wondering about - IG discovering Din’s back, Karga’s reason for wanting to keep Din away from his niece (there’s something more specific, but you’ll have to wait a while for that one, I’m afraid!) 👀
Anyhoo, in light of your incredibly generous review, I’ve decided to give you a little snippet of chapter 3 as a thank you! Bear in mind I’m still polishing off the final edits, so this may or may not be identical to what goes up the weekend after next...
Smearing on the bacta gel strains the atmosphere even further. Suddenly, you can’t seem to distinguish between a soothing motion and a sensual one. Aiming for clinically professional, you smooth the gel across the large burn near Mando’s groin, but your focus keeps drifting to the impressive bulge only centimetres away beneath his black undershorts.
That’s definitely not a blaster.
The outline is so defined you can trace the full length of him with your gaze, thick and heavy. Heat crawls up your neck to your ears and down to certain other parts of your body.
Your mind replays the memory of helping him drink – your arms encircling his broad shoulders, your aching breasts pressing against his back, his body heat burning through your clothes. His natural voice had sparked a flame inside you, deep yet soft, and so much richer without the vocoder. It was… kriff. And when he’d pressed his lips against your sleeve, the distinct prickle of facial hair through the fabric had sent lightning along your spine.
You’ve had a tantalising glimpse of the man beneath the mask, a privilege you assume few – if any – have been treated to.
Something shifts in your perception of him then, or perhaps you finally stop denying it. Either way, everything you’ve learned crystallises into a devastating conclusion that settles low in your belly…
The Mandalorian is attractive. Totally hot. Downright fuckable.
And in case you’re wondering... yup, there’s a touch of smut coming up! 😏
Was on the verge of art burnout so I'm writing instead (you can read some of the current WIP here). Print shop project is still in the works, including this business card design that I also plan to offer as a print.
Anyway, words. What are words. Why are words so hard.
Series summary: Din Djarin has made more than his fair share of enemies as one of the galaxy's more fearsome bounty hunters, and he has always been prepared to deal with them should they resurface and come looking for him. But it isn't him they come after. It's you. To rescue you, he'll have to fight his way through an arena of gladiators. Sacrifices will be made, Blood will be spilled, and old scores will be settled... but will you both make it out alive?
Series warnings: canon-typical violence, fight sport, blood, injury, death, hostage/prisoner situation, see individual chapters for additional warnings.
Part One - 4.2k
Part Two - 6.6k
Part Three - 5.3k
Part Four - 5.3k
Part Five - coming soon!
Part Six - TBA
Part Seven - TBA
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
I went down a rabbit hole of Mandalorian AUs all centered around Din and Grogu coming to Earth or an Earthling ending up in the Star Wars Galaxy. So I decided to compile them. I haven't read them all. But its a fun trope and I thought it would be fun to pull them together.
As always, mind the tags and warnings for each fic and if you enjoy them let the writer know, with comments and reblogs!
A Galaxy Far Far Away
We'll start with mine, cuz why not!
Din sets a course for a far away galaxy in an effort to keep his son safe, from bounty hunters and Imps. Unbeknownst to him he lands in the back woods of our readers home in New Hampshire USA. Its October and Halloween is right around the corner. Our reader is an OC hybrid in that while she is not physically described, she has a backstory.
Not My Stars
by @keldabe-kriff
I have read this one and LOVE it!!
An armored stranger shows up at your employer's company picnic, seeming a little lost and out of place. One act of kindness and a chance meeting later, he utters a phrase that upends your world:
"These stars are not my stars."
In what you hope is not the biggest mistake of your life, you offer him a place to stay.
Ner naak
by @ohwaitimthewriter
The fic that inspired mine! Has been on hiatus for a few years, but BAM out of the clear blue sky it's back getting updates!!
First Book: HORIZON Din Djarin meets you, an earthling, with no idea of the existence of an outer space.
In a Universe Far, Far Away
by @hdlynnslibrary Incomplete - *Permanent Hiatus* (please do not let this hinder you, it really is very fun and worth reading!!)
Chapter 1: Midnight Snack (this fic doesnt have its own masterlist, so I'm just starting you off with the forst chapter)
The night before your favorite show airs its finale for the second season you find yourself transported under stranger circumstances into a galaxy far, far away. Where everything and everyone is similar, yet different from what you were expecting.
Across An Ocean of Stars
by @orcasoul
This is one I don't know!
Nothing much happens in your small town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas, USA. All of that changed one morning when strolling in the woods, you encounter a strange metallic man and his even stranger green child...
Out of this World
by @kaysfanficcorner
Another new one for me! Din Djarin and The Child touch down on Nevarro a few months after the events of season one. Greef Karga and Cara Dune introduce him to someone with a bizarre background from a strange planet, and they ask for Din’s help to find her way home.
Country Roads
by @itsjuststardust
Also new to me!
You’re a nurse who owns and runs a farm in rural America. You’re doing the best you can to get by when Mother Nature decides to complicate your life even more than it already was by having a tornado drop a man and his radioactive Furby onto your truck. That’s it. That’s the story... Well, that’s all you had expected the story to be, something to laugh about once the shock wore off, and everyone went their separate ways. Too bad (or lucky for you, you’re still unsure), life had other plans for you, the strange armored man and his strange green sidekick.
If you have one or you know one by another writer you'd like to add, let me know.
I cannot express how much I love the Din Djarin x Earthling!Reader pairing!!!
Thanks for putting this together, Hazel; some of my favourites are already on here!
If I may, could I please add to this list the wonderful @wrathkitty and her delightful fic, Short Debts Make Long Friends, in which the reader finds herself in the Star Wars Universe and proceeds to interpret everything through the lens of millennial pop culture to hilarious (and often poignant) effect. I adore both the fic and the author 💖
There’s another over on AO3 as well: Aliit Be Ehn by ChiknStripz. I don’t think they have a Tumblr blog, but it’s a decent-sized fic and worth a read!
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
Last Episode was definitely one of my favorite ones so far and one that stuck in my head. Pedro’s acting was so spectacular in that scene I had to capture it.
Thanks for the tags @sawymredfox, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @the-blind-assassin-12 and @ak-vintage (your covers are all exquisite!), thank you to @604to647 for revitalising the game, and the biggest of thanks to @saradika for creating the templates.
I did this the first time it made the rounds, but I can't pass up a chance to get creative. Here’s a variety (they are all, of course, my beloved Din)...
✨ Alternate covers for two I did last time around (one fic now fully written and being regularly posted, and one oldie posted years ago):
Hush - A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Karga’s adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isn’t as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.
Be-All and Endor - Languishing in a dull and lonely existence on the forest moon of Endor after travelling there to help salvage Death Star wreckage, a nearly fatal encounter with a mysterious bounty hunter out in the forest heralds an opportunity to utilise long-forgotten skills and develop something more profound than you ever thought possible.
✨ A oneshot and a drabble I’ve written since the last time I did covers:
Oh, Your Love is Sunlight - Din takes Reader to a beautiful uninhabited planet for a surprise picnic date, although he has a few more surprises in store before they leave the sun-drenched paradise.
Revelation - The breathtaking moment after you’ve exchanged marriage vows, when Din finally removes his helmet for you, and you get to see his gorgeous face for the very first time.
✨ And two new WIPs I’ve begun since then:
Refugees from TV Land - Earthling!Reader inherits her great-uncle’s isolated cabin and an antique projector that she rigs up to watch her Mandalorian DVDs. She wakes up from a nap to find the show has ended… until stormtroopers chase Din THROUGH the projected doorway. Now, Reader must acclimate a Mandalorian and a fifty-year-old green alien toddler to Earth.
Face Reality - Earthling!Reader finds herself in a Galaxy Far, Far Away and meets Din. While she’s busy having an existential crisis, he’s busy having his own at learning that a whole other universe of people watched him remove his helmet. But is he really identical to Pedro Pascal? If only they had an iPhone charger, they could just check the photos on Reader’s phone…
Zero pressure, but if you’re up for it, I’d love to see covers from...
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
What a chapter!! I liked how you delved into Din’s mind. And the water moment! The sudden intimacy and trust while they are still strangers was so good. You have me really curious about how things will bloom between them once they survive the ‘flaying alive’ issue. Thanks for the wonderful chapter!❤️❤️
Yeah, these exist in the SWU; they’re called fried crispics! I’ve always thought they could be Din’s guilty pleasure – the spicier the better (since he was raised among Mandalorians).
Of course, it’d be just his luck that crispics turn out to be the one food in the galaxy Grogu doesn’t like 😅
I’m imagining Din stopping at a crispic stall in the bazaar, happily buying a ton of these, while Grogu looks on, aghast at his father’s inexplicable crispic addiction when there are perfectly good frogs in the pond at home, and Din’s desperately scambling to justify himself, like, “Sorry, kid, it’s the only thing I can afford right now,” then promptly adds another five portions to his order.
A novel-length secret relationship story set after season 3, with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully developed characterisation.
Summary: A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Karga’s adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isn’t as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC!Reader (she’s physically a blank slate but has a canon-compliant background, so she’s you if you were born in the Star Wars Universe)
Word Count: TBC (>100k words in 16 chapters)
Author’s Note: This fic started as a oneshot for @burntheedges’s Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge in August 2024, but it accidentally turned into a novel – oops! It took me so long to write and edit (21 months!) because I’ve genuinely slaved over it. After I finished the first draft, I took some writing classes, then went back and edited every single word to get it perfect. It’s turned into something I’m really proud of, so I hope you enjoy! As always, concepts and lore are accurately researched to satisfy Star Wars nerds but also referenced/explained to ensure those less familiar with the franchise can enjoy and understand everything, too.
*** FULLY WRITTEN, CHAPTERS RELEASED EVERY THIRD SATURDAY ***
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
Author’s Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Din’s head, which means this one’s written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and he’s referred to as Din, not Mando (because he knows his own name). More detailed notes at the end! I massively appreciate any and all replies and reblogs, as well as comments and kudos over on AO3. Thank you 💖
Immobile and on his knees, Din seethes with a rage he has no way to release. His muscles scream at him to slam his fist through something solid – to channel this volcanic fury into action – but the slightest twitch sends liquid fire racing through his nerve endings. Trapped in his own body, his arms stiffly splayed like some malfunctioning droid kneeling before its Maker, he can only helplessly pant through his agony. A Mandalorian warrior reduced to feeble inaction.
The forced stillness only fuels his anger, creating a feedback loop of pain and impotent wrath that threatens to consume him as he stews over who deserves the brunt of his ire.
Colonel Ward’s face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as she’d cancelled his job over the comm while he was still in orbit. His fists clench, sending fresh waves of pain up his arms as he recalls her impassive response of “Not my problem” when he’d explained Nevarro’s lockdown had already begun.
That’s on him, though. He should’ve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Then there’s the woman he’d hired to take care of Grogu. When he’d instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadn’t meant with only minutes to spare. She’d offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadn’t explained why, and frankly, he hadn’t cared. With lockdown looming, he’d barked some instructions, then hauled ass to the N-1.
Though he must admit, his irritation faded the moment she transformed his intolerable agony into a more bearable torture. Her quick thinking with the limewater was impressive. She deserves his gratitude, even if she did just scold him with the same eerily calm authority the Armorer employs when dressing down a wayward tribe member.
Which leads Din back to the person most deserving of his fury: himself. For his own reckless stupidity.
Every Mandalorian child learns to read atmospheric conditions, and the cloud formations he could see from orbit had been textbook warning signs. Still, he’d checked planetary broadcasts, hoping he was wrong. As the embargo signal had blared through his cockpit, his fists had tightened around the control sticks, his teeth clenching behind his helmet. Three seconds – that’s all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. He’d silenced the broadcast with a jab of his finger and pushed the thrusters anyway, like some cocksure apprentice with a death wish.
But what was the alternative? Return to Mandalore, where the tribes are at each other’s throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. He’s already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. It’s the Armorer’s job to ensure they stay that way. Now, as both a father and a teacher, Grogu is his only priority.
The kid had been crushed when Ward had vetoed his inclusion in this mission, and so had Din. Though his training has been going well, there was simply no role for a small alien child on a three-week undercover mission as Imperial security. The Colonel had insisted he go alone or not at all, and he’d backed down. He couldn’t afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the job’s cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadn’t considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle – has handled worse than this searing hell – but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. It’s the worst kind of example he could set as both a teacher and a father, and that knowledge burns almost as badly as his wounds. His guest was right; he did a stupid thing. And now he’s relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking of… he’s been so consumed by his self-directed fury that he let his attention lapse. Where is she? Is she still settling Grogu down, or did she already move to the refresher to find the medpac? Why is she taking so long?
It’s not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.
