It’s that time of year again! Our 6th annual Dincember prompt list is here!
It’s quite late this year, and with that in mind, the prompts are broken up into the 5 weeks of December. You can either do one prompt, two, or all of them—it’s totally up to you!
I hope to see what you all create with the tag #dincember 2025!
All kinds of art, writing, and more are welcome. AI is not welcome, nor anything along the lines of copying others, tracing, and the like.
Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.
Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”
“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”
“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”
This only made you sob harder.
“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”
Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.
A/N: happy dincember my people :)
Pedro Masterlist
All my writing
(gif credit to pinterest)
“Why are droids always so angry?”
A deep sigh arose through your comlink.
“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”
Silence.
“You’re holding back your laughter.”
“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.
“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”
“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.
“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”
“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.
“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.
Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.
Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.
They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.
In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”
You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.
That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.
“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”
You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”
“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”
Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.
“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.
And here you were.
The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.
“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.
“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”
You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.
Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.
“Hey, Din,” you asked.
“Yeah?”
“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.
“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”
“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”
“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”
His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.
“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”
“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.
You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.
“Are we focused, Y/N?”
“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”
“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”
Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”
“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”
“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”
“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”
“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”
“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?
And why did you keep noticing?
You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…
…a music box.
“Bingo,” you said.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.”
“Very original.”
“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.
Din laughed too. He understood immediately.
You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.
“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.
“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.
“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”
As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.
You were suddenly unmoving.
“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”
The box fell from your grip.
“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”
“What’s going on?”
You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.
It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.
“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”
“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.
“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”
You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.
You could never pasts their tests. Never.
“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”
“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”
His tone was unconvincing.
“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”
“You’ve gotta find a way out.”
“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”
“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”
“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”
“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”
This only made you sob harder.
“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”
You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.
“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”
You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”
“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”
You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.
“I-I found one.”
“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”
You sobbed once more. “How?”
“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”
You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.
You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.
“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.
Din didn’t respond.
You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.
Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.
You grunted, falling back into the room.
“You get it?” Din asked, panting.
“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Good. Now stand up.”
You did.
“Walk to the window.”
You did.
“And jump.”
“What?”
“Jump now.”
It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.
You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.
A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.
You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.
You nodded. “I’m okay.”
He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.
You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.
You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.
“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”
Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.
“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”
You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.
“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)
notes: this is my first time writing for din so i'm sorry if it's not accurate :) anyways, since i'm going to college for astrophysics, this seemed like an appropriate prompt for me to do (also because i'm a space nerd)
this is another prompt from @dindjarindiaries for dincember!
star wars masterlist
The Razor Crest hummed softly as it drifted in hyperspace. You sat at the small makeshift workstation, tinkering with a malfunctioning thermal detonator. The compact device refused to cooperate, its stubborn wiring fraying your patience. Grogu babbled from his floating pram, watching your every move with wide, curious eyes.
"Don't touch that," you warned, flicking a glance his way. His tiny claw hovered over the edge of the table, aiming for your hydrospanner. "I mean it, kid."
Grogu cooed in protest but retracted his hand. He pouted, but his expressive ears perked up when a shadow crossed the threshold of the cockpit. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Din. His presence was as familiar as the hum of the Crest.
“Is that thing gonna blow up in your face?” Din’s modulated voice carried a teasing lilt.
“Only if I’m lucky,” you replied dryly, not looking up from the detonator.
Din leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His beskar armor reflected the dim light, making him look even more imposing. “You’ve been at that for an hour.”
“I’ve had worse company than a stubborn explosive,” you quipped. “What’s up?”
He hesitated. That was never a good sign. Din could stare down blaster fire and an entire squad of stormtroopers without breaking a sweat, but this? This pause made you suspicious.
“Get your coat,” he finally said.
You blinked, turning to face him. “Why? Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” His tone was even, unreadable, but there was a hint of something—anticipation, maybe? “We’re dropping out of hyperspace soon. Grab Grogu. You’ll want to see this.”
You raised an eyebrow but decided not to argue. If Din was being cryptic, it usually meant he was planning something. And while his surprises often included unexpected blaster fights or hostile negotiations, this didn’t have the same edge of danger.
“Fine.” You pushed back from the table, scooping up Grogu, who squealed in delight. “But if this ends with me patching up your injuries again, I’m taking your meiloorun.”
Din chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Not this time.”
---
The planet he brought you to was small, almost unremarkable at first glance. Its atmosphere shimmered faintly as the Razor Crest descended, the golden hues of its surface shifting like liquid. Din handled the landing with practiced ease, and soon, the three of you stepped out into a soft, sprawling expanse.
“Okay,” you said, surveying the area. “What’s the deal? Where’s the bounty?”
You followed his gaze, and your breath hitched. The sky above was a tapestry of stars, brighter and closer than you’d ever seen. Nebulas swirled in vivid colors—violets, blues, and golds—while constellations stretched in intricate patterns. It was as if the galaxy had folded in on itself, presenting its wonders in one breathtaking view.
“Din,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away. “What… how did you find this place?”
He shifted beside you, his voice quieter now. “Picked up some star charts during a job. Thought you’d like it.”
“‘Like it’?” You laughed softly, overwhelmed. “Din, this is… incredible.”
Grogu reached up, his tiny hand grasping at the stars as if he could pluck them from the sky. You held him close, feeling a wave of emotion you didn’t expect.
Din stood beside you, quiet but solid, the kind of steady presence you’d come to rely on. His helmet tilted ever so slightly as he watched the scene unfold, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.
“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence, “is this your way of trying to impress me?”
He turned his helmet toward you. “Is it working?”
You snorted. “I don’t know. You’re pretty hard to impress yourself, Mr. Star Charts.”
Din made a soft, amused sound. “Thought you might appreciate the view. Astrophysicist and all.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, did you crack open a textbook to prep for this? Next thing I know, you’ll be spouting quantum theory.”
“I’d rather stick to tracking fobs and blasters,” he shot back, but there was warmth in his voice.
Grogu squirmed in your arms, letting out a series of excited babbles. You adjusted your hold on him, and he immediately grabbed a piece of your jacket, pulling it toward his mouth.
“Okay, little guy, relax,” you said, gently pulling it away. “This is a ‘look but don’t eat’ situation.”
Din chuckled again, a low rumble that made your chest feel lighter. You turned toward him, watching the way the stars reflected off the curve of his helmet. Even without seeing his face, you could tell he was watching you—really watching you.
“Thanks for this,” you said quietly, letting the sincerity bleed into your words. “I needed it.”
He shifted a little, the faintest hint of hesitation in his stance. “I just… wanted to see you smile.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty. For a guy who spent most of his time grunting or giving one-word answers, Din could hit you with the kind of sentiment that knocked the wind out of you.
“Well,” you said, swallowing past the lump in your throat, “mission accomplished, Mando.”
You took a step closer, lifting up on your toes to press a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the warmth of the moment, and you lingered for just a second longer than you probably should have.
When you pulled back, Din didn’t say anything right away. But his posture shifted, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.
“Come on,” he said, voice softer now. “Let’s stay out here for a while.”
“Only if you promise to stop being so cryptic next time,” you teased, but you followed him anyway, Grogu snuggled securely in your arms.
Word Count: 1109
Rating: General
Summary: After your favourite Mandalorian's latest assignment with the New Republic means that his return to your cabin is delayed, you head to bed, thoroughly miserable. But when Din finally arrives home the reunion does not go entirely smoothly, as you find yourself needing to warm him up, with adorable consequences.
Content Warnings: None!
Author's note: I love it when big scary bounty hunters are secretly little spoons.
Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist
You were accustomed to Din arriving back to your cabin on Nevarro from his various assignments with the New Republic at all times of day and night. You had come to learn, after several disappointments, not to wait up for him on the days that he said he would be back. Before, you would feel the unmistakable despondency creeping in as his arrival times grew later and later, usually caught up in some bureaucratic nonsense.
Tonight appeared to be no exception, as the time on your chronometer when Din had promised to be back came and went, with still no sign of him, nor any word from him as to how long he would be. You had tried your best to stop letting it get to you, but you could not deny the sinking feeling that you felt in your chest each and every time he wasn’t back with you at the time he had promised. The cabin felt so dark and lonely without him. You were miserable without him, you felt somehow incomplete without his presence.
With nothing else to do and no point in waiting up for him, you decided to make yourself your favourite hot tea and climb into the cot you shared with Din in order to try and get some sleep. The thought of climbing between the blankets without him was thoroughly unappealing, but the lack of contact proved that whatever he was caught up in was out of his control. He was probably somewhere out there, just as frustrated as you were. You missed him terribly, but perhaps when you woke up, Din would be where he belonged: back with you.
Sometimes, the sounds of the N-1 engines descending through the atmosphere to park outside the cabin would wake you up. But despite your unhappiness and concern for him, you had been so tired that you were in a deep sleep by the time Din finally arrived home. The N-1 parking up did not raise you from your slumber, nor did Din and Grogu as they arrived back at the cabin. The first sign that Din had returned home was the sound of the door to the room you shared together opening.
“Din?” You said sleepily, into the darkness.
“I’m home, cyare.” Din’s familiar, deep, soothing voice sounded into the Nevarrian night. You heard him beginning to carefully remove his beskar’gam, a comforting sound that told you he was closeby. “Don’t get up.”
“Glad you’re home,” You sighed happily, halfway between wakefulness and slumber. You soon fell back to sleep.
Your eyelids fluttered open as you felt the mattress sink with Din's weight as he made himself comfortable on the cot next to you. You smiled as you felt the cotton of his soft clothes as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. But something was wrong. Rather than the warm, steadying embrace you had grown accustomed to, your ordinarily calm, unwavering Mandalorian trembled from head to toe.
“Din, what’s the matter?” You said concernedly, now fully awake. “You’re shaking all over. Did something happen?”
“I’m ju-just so...” Din struggled to speak against the chattering of his teeth, “C-c-cold.”
“Oh, come here, love.” You said as you pushed him carefully onto his side so his back was facing you, pulling the blanket around the two of you as you did so. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen and pushed them under his shirt so your hands came to rest, palms splayed, against his firm stomach that was beginning to soften slightly with age. “Let me warm you up.”
“Th-th-thank you,” Din said, still shivering.
“Was the job somewhere cold?” You asked sympathetically.
“Ha-had to report to ice pl-planet… Hoth.” Din explained. So that was what the delay had been, then, you surmised.
“Is Grogu alright?” You asked, concerned about what the cold would have done to a being as tiny as Din's son.
“Ye-yes…” Din nodded, “Left hi-him in the ship while… talked to Teva.”
“Okay, just rest now. Focus on getting warm.” You soothed, stroking his dark curls gently between your fingers.
You lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Din in your arms, despite how much he was still trembling. It was a welcome change, despite the less-than-ideal conditions that had brought about a shift in your dynamic. Din always liked to gather you up in his arms protectively and hold you close and of course you enjoyed his enormous, warm presence that engulfed you whenever he held you in his arms. You had never felt a greater sense of safety or belonging in all your days than when you were in Din's arms. But every once in a while, it was nice to have a role reversal, to hold him and make him feel how much you loved him and wanted to protect him, too. The absolute love and devotion in your relationship flowed both ways and it was an honour to remind Din of that.
As you laid there and held him tightly, continuing to stroke his bare skin underneath his clothes with your palms, you felt how the tremours that had wracked his body decreased in both their frequency and ferocity. You were grateful that what you were doing had worked, that Din seemed to be warming up from the frigid air on Hoth that had frozen him to the bone.
“You feeling any better now?” You asked as you dropped a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.
“Much better.” Din sighed happily, though you could tell from the fatigue in his voice how exhausted he was.
“That’s what I like to hear,” You said in relief, “Why don’t you get some sleep, Din? You sound exhausted.”
“I am,” Din huffed.
“Awwww, honey.” You soothed. “You can tell me all about yours and Grogu’s latest adventures in the morning.” You said, rubbing Din’s stomach softly again. "But first, rest."
“Will do,” Din’s voice was barely above a whisper now, heavy with sleep. “Goodnight, cyare.”
“Goodnight, Din.” You whispered. “I love you.”
“Love you…” Din mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep finally embraced him. You could tell, with a smirk, from his even, shallow breaths that he had dozed off.
You were grateful for how easily sleep seemed to have come to him. After a long, arduous job like the one he had returned from, he needed his rest. You were desperate to hear the tales from his adventures but you knew that could wait because sometimes your big, formidable bounty hunter just needed to lie there and be the little spoon, as you helped to warm him up from the cold.
Pairing: Din Djarin x *reverse age gap*plus-size*fem!OC
A moment that hasn’t happened yet in You Were Marked
“Din?”
“Yes?”
“How many days have we known each other?”
“Thirty-five.”
“Thirty-five days since I threw a rock at your head.” Marathel looked thoughtful. “How many days was it … when you made the decision to come to Unmanarall and find me?”
“Um … five days before that. Karga — he’s my contact for new bounties — gave me the puck with the recording on it. I don’t know how long he had it before he told me.”
Marathel nodded. “So, forty days. Forty days ago you made a decision that changed my life forever.” Her brows knitted together for a few moments, then she took his hand and held it tightly in both of hers. “Thank you.”
“I —“
“I may never see you again after you leave me on Nevarro, but you have given me the most magnificent gift. You have shown me what a man can be. That a man can be kind and not cruel. That a man can touch me and it won’t cause me pain. That a man can make me feel happy and not terrified. And I will be grateful for that knowledge for the rest of my life. Always and forever. Bam’ser y byth’ser. Thank you, Din Djarin, Bounty Hunter. Fawr’lch, byth’ser.”
These last two words were whispered as she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him with her face against his throat; she tucked her head under the edge of his helmet, fitting perfectly against him as she’d always had, these forty days after he’d decided to chase down the most vague of information on a whim. A whim had brought him to this moment, with this lovely woman holding him tight, and he knew that his life had been changed forever as well. Forever.
Forever.
I will know you forever.
His breath trembled in and out of his helmet as his arms encircled her. Finally, he was able to whisper back to her,