Jem | she/her | š¬š§ | writer | 43 In love with Din Djarin (šš» other Pedro boys) Tumblr Masterlist | AO3 Masterlist š Minors DNI ā explicit content š Join my tag list
A novel-length secret relationship story set after season 3, with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully developed characterisation.
Summary:Ā A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Kargaās adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isnāt as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.
Rating:Ā Explicit (18+)
Pairing:Ā Din Djarin x OFC!Reader (sheās physically a blank slate but has a canon-compliant background, so sheās you if you were born in the Star Wars Universe)
Word Count:Ā TBC (>100k words in 16 chapters)
Authorās Note: This fic started as a oneshot for @burntheedgesās Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge in August 2024, but it accidentally turned into a novel ā oops! It took me so long to write and edit (21 months!) because Iāve 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. Itās turned into something Iām 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 youād like a tag for this fic only.
Authorās Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Dinās head, which means this oneās written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and heās 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 š
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 ā to channel this volcanic fury into action ā 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 Wardās face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as sheād 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 āNot my problemā when heād explained Nevarroās lockdown had already begun.
Thatās on him, though. He shouldāve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldnāt be in this mess.
Then thereās the woman heād hired to take care of Grogu. When heād instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadnāt meant with only minutes to spare. Sheād offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadnāt explained why, and frankly, he hadnāt cared. With lockdown looming, heād 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, heād 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 ā thatās all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. Heād 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 otherās throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. Heās already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. Itās the Armorerās 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 heād backed down. He couldnāt afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the jobās cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadnāt considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle ā has handled worse than this searing hell ā but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. Itās 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 heās relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking ofā¦ heās 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?
Itās 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 youād like a tag for this fic only.
Damn it Mando, that really was reckless and stupid. He got real lucky that sheās so well versed in treating his injuries. Canāt wait to read how this whole flaying alive business will go! And Iām looking forward to her pov, how sheās 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 š
This was pretty impossible to do, so Iāve gone with my all-time faves, and since Iām 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 (2004ā2009)
Bones (2005ā2017)
Community (2009ā2015)
Doctor Who (2005ā2022)
Elementary (2012ā2019)
Fringe (2008ā2013)
Grimm (2011ā2017)
House, M.D. (2004ā2012)
The Mandalorian (2019ā )
Stargate: SG1 (1997ā2007)
Voting ended onJun 25
Iām just now realising how many of these shows feature autistic-coded characters š
Honourable mentions to the following as well, which were very firmly on the list and were very reluctantly culled...
Authorās Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Dinās head, which means this oneās written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and heās 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 š
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 ā to channel this volcanic fury into action ā 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 Wardās face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as sheād 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 āNot my problemā when heād explained Nevarroās lockdown had already begun.
Thatās on him, though. He shouldāve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldnāt be in this mess.
Then thereās the woman heād hired to take care of Grogu. When heād instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadnāt meant with only minutes to spare. Sheād offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadnāt explained why, and frankly, he hadnāt cared. With lockdown looming, heād 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, heād 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 ā thatās all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. Heād 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 otherās throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. Heās already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. Itās the Armorerās 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 heād backed down. He couldnāt afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the jobās cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadnāt considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle ā has handled worse than this searing hell ā but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. Itās 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 heās relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking ofā¦ heās 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?
Itās 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 youād 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 š„² Alyssa, I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to provide such in-depth and insightful feedback - you are amazing!
I lolled at āhandsy Omeraā (she really was, wasnāt she?). I love writing a reader who surprises Din. I feel like he thinks heās 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 itās literally in the summary, I donāt think itās 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, yāknow, helmet), suddenly Din finds himself pie-less and wholly pie-addicted.
Iām so excited for you to learn the answers to all the things youāre wondering about - IG discovering Dinās back, Kargaās reason for wanting to keep Din away from his niece (thereās something more specific, but youāll have to wait a while for that one, Iām afraid!) š
Anyhoo, in light of your incredibly generous review, Iāve decided to give you a little snippet of chapter 3 as a thank you! Bear in mind Iām 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 canāt seem to distinguish between a soothing motion and a sensual one. Aiming for clinically professional, you smooth the gel across the large burn near Mandoās groin, but your focus keeps drifting to the impressive bulge only centimetres away beneath his black undershorts.
Thatās 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 ā 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 wasā¦ kriff. And when heād pressed his lips against your sleeve, the distinct prickle of facial hair through the fabric had sent lightning along your spine.
Youāve had a tantalising glimpse of the man beneath the mask, a privilege you assume few ā if any ā have been treated to.
Something shifts in your perception of him then, or perhaps you finally stop denying it. Either way, everything youāve learned crystallises into a devastating conclusion that settles low in your bellyā¦
The Mandalorian is attractive. Totally hot. Downright fuckable.
And in case youāre wondering... yup, thereās a touch of smut coming up! š
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
Authorās Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Dinās head, which means this oneās written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and heās 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 š
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 ā to channel this volcanic fury into action ā 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 Wardās face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as sheād 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 āNot my problemā when heād explained Nevarroās lockdown had already begun.
Thatās on him, though. He shouldāve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldnāt be in this mess.
Then thereās the woman heād hired to take care of Grogu. When heād instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadnāt meant with only minutes to spare. Sheād offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadnāt explained why, and frankly, he hadnāt cared. With lockdown looming, heād 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, heād 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 ā thatās all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. Heād 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 otherās throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. Heās already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. Itās the Armorerās 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 heād backed down. He couldnāt afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the jobās cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadnāt considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle ā has handled worse than this searing hell ā but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. Itās 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 heās relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking ofā¦ heās 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?
Itās 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 youād 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 Dinās help to find her way home.
Country Roads
by @itsjuststardust
Also new to me!
Youāre a nurse who owns and runs a farm in rural America. Youāre 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. Thatās it. Thatās the story... Well, thatās 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, youāre 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 š
Thereās another over on AO3 as well: Aliit Be Ehn by ChiknStripz. I donāt think they have a Tumblr blog, but itās a decent-sized fic and worth a read!
Authorās Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Dinās head, which means this oneās written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and heās 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 š
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 ā to channel this volcanic fury into action ā 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 Wardās face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as sheād 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 āNot my problemā when heād explained Nevarroās lockdown had already begun.
Thatās on him, though. He shouldāve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldnāt be in this mess.
Then thereās the woman heād hired to take care of Grogu. When heād instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadnāt meant with only minutes to spare. Sheād offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadnāt explained why, and frankly, he hadnāt cared. With lockdown looming, heād 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, heād 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 ā thatās all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. Heād 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 otherās throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. Heās already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. Itās the Armorerās 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 heād backed down. He couldnāt afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the jobās cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadnāt considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle ā has handled worse than this searing hell ā but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. Itās 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 heās relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking ofā¦ heās 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?
Itās 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 youād 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. Pedroās 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. Hereās a variety (they are all, of course, my beloved Din)...
āØ 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 Kargaās adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isnāt 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.
āØ A oneshot and a drabble Iāve 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 youāve exchanged marriage vows, when Din finally removes his helmet for you, and you get to see his gorgeous face for the very first time.
āØ And two new WIPs Iāve begun since then:
Refugees from TV Land - Earthling!Reader inherits her great-uncleās 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 endedā¦ 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 sheās busy having an existential crisis, heās 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 Readerās phoneā¦
Zero pressure, but if youāre up for it, Iād love to see covers from...
Authorās Note: Thanks for all the love for chapter 1! We are now switching POVs and jumping into Dinās head, which means this oneās written in the third-person. So just a reminder: in third-person POV, she/her pronouns are used for OFC!Reader, and heās 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 š
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 ā to channel this volcanic fury into action ā 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 Wardās face flashes in his mind. Even through the flickering lines of the holo, he could see her stony expression as sheād 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 āNot my problemā when heād explained Nevarroās lockdown had already begun.
Thatās on him, though. He shouldāve checked in with her before he left. If he had, he wouldnāt be in this mess.
Then thereās the woman heād hired to take care of Grogu. When heād instructed her to arrive before sundown, he hadnāt meant with only minutes to spare. Sheād offered some excuse about Karga delaying her but hadnāt explained why, and frankly, he hadnāt cared. With lockdown looming, heād 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, heād 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 ā thatās all it had taken for his anger to overwhelm his training. Heād 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 otherās throats again? His jaw tightens at the mere thought. No. Heās already redeemed himself, scouted Mandalore, and helped unite his people. Itās the Armorerās 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 heād backed down. He couldnāt afford to piss her off, not if he wanted to keep getting paid work.
With the jobās cancellation, the equation had been simple in his mind. He needed to return to his son, no matter the risk. He just hadnāt considered the risk might be to his life.
Pain he can handle ā has handled worse than this searing hell ā but this is different. This is weakness, poor judgment. Itās 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 heās relying on a stranger for medical aid.
Speaking ofā¦ heās 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?
Itās not suspicion that claws at him, but rather a sudden ambush of curiosity.
CONTINUE READING THIS CHAPTER ON AO3
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What a chapter!! I liked how you delved into Dinās 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 āflaying aliveā issue. Thanks for the wonderful chapter!ā¤ļøā¤ļø
Yeah, these exist in the SWU; theyāre called fried crispics! Iāve always thought they could be Dinās guilty pleasure ā the spicier the better (since he was raised among Mandalorians).
Of course, itād be just his luck that crispics turn out to be the one food in the galaxy Grogu doesnāt like š
Iām imagining Din stopping at a crispic stall in the bazaar, happily buying a ton of these, while Grogu looks on, aghast at his fatherās inexplicable crispic addiction when there are perfectly good frogs in the pond at home, and Dinās desperately scambling to justify himself, like, āSorry, kid, itās the only thing I can afford right now,ā 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:Ā A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Kargaās adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isnāt as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.
Rating:Ā Explicit (18+)
Pairing:Ā Din Djarin x OFC!Reader (sheās physically a blank slate but has a canon-compliant background, so sheās you if you were born in the Star Wars Universe)
Word Count:Ā TBC (>100k words in 16 chapters)
Authorās Note: This fic started as a oneshot for @burntheedgesās Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge in August 2024, but it accidentally turned into a novel ā oops! It took me so long to write and edit (21 months!) because Iāve 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. Itās turned into something Iām 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 ***
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