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#mando stories
eggdrawsthings · 2 years
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reposting cos i have no new SW doodles to post rn, and i just wanna have these 2 drawings in the same post 🤡
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naarisz · 6 months
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Dagor Dagorath has never been more chaotic.
I have a new au idea! I like the canon Dagor Dagorath trio, but I feel like these three dumpster fires would be soo fricking funny in their position.
A man, an elf and a maia. Will they save or doom the universe forever? :D
Some info for the pics:
1. Character sheet and some more information. (Sauron, Maedhros and Túrin, I forgot to write their names onto the sheet.)
2. After Námo announces the new prophecy.
3. Sauron heals Maedhros scars. (That he gave him back then, of course. Dramatic aholes.)
4. Their whole adventure consist of searching for silmarils (again, yeah) for Fëanor to break them to renew the Trees, preventing the total annihilation of every soul, fëa and ëala on Arda. Aaand fleeing from Melkor's forces, of course. They're not in warrior shape. :D
5. Bonus: Names
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owlyjules · 1 year
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Little Obi-Wan/ Jangobi Doodle for my little wife!
I want to make art of the clones next!!
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morallyinept · 7 months
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A list of all my favourite DIN DJARIN Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.
Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤
PART 1
⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.
Stepwise & Din Djarin Masterlist - @the-scandalorian
Push & Pull - @sinsofsummers
The Cassandra Complex Series - @netherfeildren
Fear Not The Abyss CultLeader!Din & The Mandalorian Masterlist - @psychedelic-ink
Take Me To Church Series - @frannyzooey Western AU
Touching Din - @archieimagines
The Mandalorian Masterlist - @absurdthirst So much to choose from!
Hands - @againstacecilia
Your Creed, My Quest Series - @atinylittlepain
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beecastle Couldn't pick just one!
Bleed For Me Series - @saradika Vampire!Din
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beskarandblasters Couldn't pick just one!
Defanged - @concussed-to-pieces
Acting Out - @cool-iguana
The Minotaur Series - @djarinsbeskar
Warmth Of You & Din Djarin Masterlist - @ezrasbirdie
Feel It - @ezrasbirdie Din x Cobb
It would be - @fuckyeahdindjarin
Din Djarin Masterlist - @theidiotwhowritesthings So many good ones!
In Knots - @radiowallet
Possession - @prolix-yuy Featuring Cobb Vanth
Silk Series - @juletheghoul 1970's AU
The Sweetest Melody - @noisynaia
The Only Exception - @imaginedisish
Keep It Down - @multifandombitxh
Home Is Where You're Mine - @inklore
Did You Miss Me? - @mellowswriting
Din Djarin Masterlist - @bits-and-babs So many to choose from!
Stormy Skies - @deakyjoe GN!Reader
The Worthwhile Delay - @ghostofaboy Din x Cobb
Windows Of The Soul - @la-lunaluna M!Reader
A Sound Only You Can Hear Series - @nolanell GN!Reader Soulmates AU
I'll Be Needing The Stitches - @thetriumphantpanda
Watch - @psychedelic-ink
To Touch Darkness - @djarincore Possessed!Din
Be All & Endor Series - @djarins-cyare
Tendrils - @morallyinept RopeMaster!Din
Taungsdays, Am I Right? - @theywhowriteandknowthings
Night Ride - @decembermidnight
A Good Friend To Have - @beskarandblasters Sub!Din
A Kind Of Demon - @fettuccin-e Monster AU
Hold On, Hold On - @kedsandtubesocks Cowboy!Din
Bounty & Hunter - @never--doubt
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handspunyarns · 2 months
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Wrote this bit of dialogue, no reason, not part of my current fiction, and I’m sure this scenario has already been written a gazillion times
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OC: (waking up) …. What happened?
Din: You fell on the ice and knocked yourself unconscious. Unfortunately, it took a while for me to find you … you were deeply hypothermic.
OC: That doesnt explain why … it seems I’m in a sleeping bag.
Din: Well …
OC: And you’re in the sleeping bag with me.
Din: See …
OC: But behind me.
Din: I …
OC: And I’m naked.
Din: Yes, I …
OC: And so are you.
Din: (pause) Ah, you’re done. Body heat is the most efficient way to warm someone with hypothermia.
OC: Okay. So … this is a naked Grogu that is tucked in front of me?
Din: He wanted to help.
OC: Okay. So … is your helmet off?
Din: Yes.
OC: I thought you were not allowed to remove your helmet before others …
Din: I am behind you. And I trust you not to turn back.
OC: Din, I …
Din: Wearing the helmet while otherwise naked would be weird.
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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months
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Kinktober Day 23 - Breeding/Fancy Dress (Din Djarin)
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mhi ba'juri verde
Mand'alor!Din Djarin x f!reader
Word Count: 1k
Summary: After Din is crowned Mand'alor, you make good on your promise to fulfill the rest of your vows.
Warnings: Breeding, p in v unprotected, gratuitous sappiness, throne sex, mando'a, this is basically what it says on the tin. I mostly wanted an excuse to think about what a Mandalorian gown would look like.
inspired by the Kinktober 2023 prompt list by @absurdthirst.
also on ao3
When his guards have cleared everyone out of the throne room, Din remains seated. His elbows rest on his thigh guards, and his helmet rests in his gloved hands.
You climb the steps and kneel before your Mand’alor.
He looks up and groans. “Not you, too.”
“Can you blame me, Mand’alor?” you give him a sly smile. “I’ve been on my knees for you for far longer than anyone.”
He’s exhausted. The decorum and theatricalities... he understands. Manda’yaim is returning to strength, and putting on a formal ceremony for the first Mandalorian on the throne in far too long was a smart political play.
He hates that he has to think about smart political plays.
But he looks down at you, in a truly impressive display of craftsmanship, and thinks there are some perks.
You smooth out the skirts of the gown, which is woven in and around your armor. It’s the green of your hal’cabur and the silver of his, with embroidery like liquid beskar. Some of the layers of fabric are actually coated in near-molten beskar and hardened into plates. It’s draped in thin beskar chains. No expense spared—though the decorative pieces will be remelted and used for foundlings, as is The Way.
“You look radiant,” he says. “Let me see you, cyare.”
You lift off your helmet. No one will be able to enter the throne room, not with it sealed and the guards posted outside.
Din takes his off as well and leans back on the throne. “Come here,” he says.
You climb the stairs and go to kneel at his feet, but he tugs you into his lap. “I don’t think I’m allowed on the throne,” you say.
“I don’t think you’re allowed to defy your Mand’alor, either.”
You laugh, and he exaggerates a pout.
“Are you laughing at your king?”
“Oh, no, ner Mand’alor, I would never.”
At the affected simper in your voice, he grins. It’s contagious, and you grin back before it fades into a fond smile.
“You looked so strong and sure up there,” you say, straightening the fur-trimmed cloak on his shoulders. “Someone the people can place their trust in.”
“Don’t,” he says softly. He’s heard it all from you before, and while he’s inclined to believe you, as he would trust your opinion above all others, he’s still uncertain about his suitedness for the role.
“Din,” you murmur, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “There’s no one I’d pledge myself to other than you. Not Bo, not Paz, not anyone. But my offer to run away with you still stands.”
He smiles. You both know neither would run away from duty, but he appreciates the sentiment.
“Should we attend this great celebration in your honor? Stop Fett from giving the kid too many sweets?”
“Mmm, just a moment. I’d like to do something else first.”
You narrow your eyes. “You know I’m fully armored under the dress, right? They did not build an easy access panel for you.”
“Well, then, they’ll be dismissed.”
You roll your eyes.
“Please, cyare?”
Your protests die as soon as he's spoken. His beautiful brown eyes look up at you with love and desire. But you make a show of groaning and getting up, tediously removing your dress, holsters, girth belt, and all the panels of your armor so you can open your flightsuit and step out, completely bare.
“No access panel, but I saved you the trouble of undergarments,” you said. “You’re going to help me put that all back on quickly when you’re done, right?”
He was leaning forward, an elbow on his knee, and chin rested on a fist. The smirk on his face told you he had enjoyed watching you perfunctorily strip down. When he finished looking you over, he leaned back again and extended an arm.
You took his hand and slid back over his thighs. “This seems unfair,” you say, originally intending to tease but then feeling it genuinely when you settled on the cold beskar.
“Just this morning, you were telling me how I get to ‘spoil myself’ now that I’m Mand’alor? I’m just taking your advice.” He reaches down and pulls his cock out.
You lean back a little, sulking that he didn't have to strip naked in a frigid room also. “Okay, but really, how is that fair?”
He rubs the head of his cock over your clit until you whine, and then pulls you down onto it. You gasp, unprepared for the stretch of him.
“Still worried about if it’s fair?”
You shake your head and moan as he helps you bounce with his hands on your hips.
“Hey,” you say breathlessly between kissing and nipping at his neck, soaking up all the noises he made. “You remember when I said I wanted to wait until all this was settled?”
His hips stutter, and he freezes. “Don’t tease, cyare.”
“I’m not, ner riduur. It's as settled as it will ever be. We have a lot to do for Manda’yaim, but it feels like the right time.”
His stare is intense, pupils blown dark, and he tightens his grip on your hips. “You’re sure?”
You lean in to kiss him. “Positive.”
He pulls you in, arms tight around your back, licking into your mouth with ferocity. He sets a rough pace, leaving you to cling on with your arms around his neck while he fucks up into your wet cunt. The sound echoes in the chamber, but it won’t occur to either of you that the guards could probably hear until much later.
“Last chance, cyare. You’re going to let me put a baby in you? You want more ad?”
“Please,” you cry, grinding down to hunt down your own release.
He’s never spilled inside you before, the two of you too careful, too aware of the danger around you. But Manda’yaim is stabilizing, her people returning. And though you both love Grogu, you’ve always known there was room in your heart for more children.
You cum when he fills you, the warmth and pulse of his cock intoxicating. You’re not sure how you’ll ever go back to a different way.
He whines when you stand up. “It’s not going to take if you let it drip down your thigh.”
“Guess you’ll have to try again later.”
He does, in fact, help you redress (though his wandering hands take much longer than if you had done it yourself).
Mando'a Translations (in order of appearance):
mhi ba'juri verde - we raise warriors Mand'alor - the ruler of the Mandalorians Manda'yaim - the planet Mandalore Hal'cabur - chest plate of Mandalorian armor Cyare - beloved ner - my (ex., ner Mand'alor is my Mand'alor/my King) riduur - spouse ad - children
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daltony · 2 months
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Posted by Patrick Fabian on IG stories.
Three Amigos!
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Loved celebrating Better Call Saul with my brothers.
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lulu2992 · 1 year
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How to be cast as a Far Cry villain
Sources: Michael Mando - Troy Baker - Jean-Sébastien Décant
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I… might need to start emotionally distancing myself from Rayllum.
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leofrith · 1 year
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when i say i miss din djarin i really do mean i miss him. i haven't seen him in two years that man is literally dead.
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obiwanurmyonlyhoe · 2 years
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CAN 👏 WE 👏 TALK 👏 ABOUT 👏 THIS 👏 PROGRESSION ??!??!?!?
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LIKE LOOK AT THEM.
FROM LONE WOLF. TO THEM LOOKING AT EACH OTHER, TRYING TO FIGURE THINGS OUT. TO KNOWING THEMSELVES AND STANDING TALL TOGETHER.
DAMMIT I LOVE THIS SHINY SPACE COWBOY AND HIS LIL GREEN BEAN OF AN ALIEN SON.
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yukipri · 1 year
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I saw somewhere someone says it wasn't the Jedi fault what happened at Galidraan, they were there to arrest and investigate, not to kill, and it was the mando who attack first. Is that true ? I didn't read it
Ahh fandom misunderstandings about Galidraan continue.
Understandable, given it's from a relatively obscure base media but the event comes up a lot in fan works. I'll do my best to break it down.
All you need to know about the Massacre on Galidraan
The following info is all from the Legends comic Jango Fett: Open Seasons, specifically focussing on the 3rd installment, Winter. Here's a photo of my physical copy I have open as I type this, so you know I'm not pulling this info out of my ass.
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First, some crucial facts:
1: Galidraan was not a Mandos vs Jedi conflict.
It may appear that way at first glance, and likely seemed that way to many outsiders across the Galaxy who only read about the massacre in a heavily censored news article. But while the battle was the True Mandalorians fighting against the Jedi and ultimately all dying except for Jango, that is not what the conflict was about.
2: There were 4 factions involved in Galidraan.
People oftentimes boil it down to Mandos vs Jedi, but that isn't accurate, because there were 4 parties involved:
The True Mandalorians (Haat Mando'ade; Jango's people)
The Jedi
Death Watch (led by Tor Vizsla, who killed Jaster, Jango's mentor)
The Governor of Galidraan
I have no idea why some fandom takes on Galidraan forget to mention the last two, when they are why the massacre took place at all.
3: The party responsible for the conflict on Galidraan was DEATH WATCH, with the Governor of Galidraan as their accomplice.
&
The Jedi were used, and the True Mandalorians were victims.
You can endlessly debate whether or not the Jedi or the True Mandalorians could have taken different actions to have possibly prevented the massacre. And it's true, it might have been possible! There were certainly other actions that both sides could have taken.
HOWEVER. That discussion can ONLY take place after understanding that both sides were very intentionally, and very MALICIOUSLY manipulated by a third party.
This was not a normal Jedi vs Mandos clash. Neither the Jedi nor the True Mandalorians would have fought (would have even been on the planet in the first place!) without these manipulations, so to ask which of the two was to blame without first understanding that Death Watch set them up is failing to get Galidraan at all.
Here's what happened at the Massacre of Galidraan:
Jango and the True Mandalorians took a job from the Governor of Galidraan to kill his political opponents. The True Mandalorians are mercenaries, and this was just a job for them. It's also implied that Jango knew in advance that the Governor of Galidraan had been harboring Tor Vizsla and funding Death Watch*, and he intentionally took the job in order to get the Governor to owe him and pay him with information on them.
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Jango and the True Mandalorians killed the Governor's political opponents, just as they were hired to do, and upheld their agreement. When Jango goes to collect payment, it was a trap—Tor Vizsla and Death Watch were waiting for him, and attempted to kill him.
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Jango escapes, but his jetpack is damaged, as are his comms (or perhaps more likely, his comms were intentionally blocked). This is important because Jango now knows explicitly that they were set up: that the Governor of Galidraan was always working with Death Watch, and that he and his people being called to this planet was a trap in order to kill them. He tries to warn the True Mandalorians (Myles, his second, to be exact) to evacuate, but is unable to reach them because of his comms connection.
Back with Death Watch and the Governor, after Vizsla fails to kill Jango, they watch as the Jedi land on planet. The Governor states: "Yes, as you [Tor Vizsla] instructed, I begged for [the Jedi/the Republic's] help. Informed them that the Mandalorians were slaughtering political activists, which is basically true."
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So, let's get this straight: the Governor of Galidraan, who personally HIRED the True Mandalorians to get rid of his political opponents, is now calling the Jedi to say "Oh no the Mandalorians are killing political activists!" And he did so under the explicit orders of Tor Vizsla. He explicitly backstabbed the True Mandalorians.
Should note that the True Mandalorians do follow a code, and only killed the specific people considered a threat (aka combatants). The True Mandalorians did not touch civilians, but as you can see from frames above, Death Watch goes ahead and kills them to make false evidence against the True Mandalorians and therefore justify their slaughter.
Again: Death Watch/Tor Vizsla and the Governor of Galidraan EXPLICITLY set up the True Mandalorians/Jango.
Next: Jango gets back to the True Mandalorians' camp as soon as he can, and arrives just as a large group of Jedi arrive, led by Dooku. Their lightsabers are already drawn.
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Dooku says to them: "You stand accused of murder. Surrender now and we will ensure that you are fairly treated."
The girl next to Dooku, presumably young Komari Vosa, adds, "But fight us, and we will bring swift justice!"
Jango's response: "Mandalorians, open fire! And shoot the loudmouth first!"
And so the battle begins.
Without any of the previous context, sure, it might be easy to say "Jango's responsible, he fired first." But take a moment to think about what led up to this moment.
Jango knows, explicitly, that Death Watch and the Governor are working together.
He knows that Death Watch just wants him dead, and in fact very literally just escaped being killed.
He knows that he and his people are caught in a trap, and that Death Watch and the Governor want them all dead.
He probably isn't sure how they're going to be killed—until he arrives back at camp, and sees a shitton of Jedi with their lightsabers drawn, who are accusing them of a crime they did not commit. And he must have thought, ah, that would do it.
This isn't a normal encounter with the Jedi. It's true that Mandalorians have reasons to dislike Jedi as a whole, but Jango didn't shoot first because of that.
Jango shot first because he recognized that the Jedi were the weapon that Death Watch and the Governor chose for the execution of himself and his people. And he wasn't wrong.
Could Jango have maybe stopped to have a gentlemanly chat with Dooku and say "Good sir, we did not commit any murder, you were told false information and are being manipulated and we the True Mandalorians have been set up. Please put away your lightsabers so we can talk"? I mean. He could have. But.
With all of the context above, his decision to raise arms also makes sense.
After the battle, all fo the True Mandalorians present have been killed except Jango, as well as roughly half of the Jedi. Many of those Jedi were killed by Jango himself, with nothing but his bare hands—this is how he gains his infamous reputation as a "Jedi Killer." But to him, he was acting in self-defense.
The Jedi—or rather, at least Dooku—realize that they have been used only after the fact, and that they've done something horribly wrong and have killed innocents. Surrounded by the bodies of Jedi and True Mandalorians, and having just watched Jango strangle one last Jedi, Dooku says:
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"What have we done...?"
In the "present" of the comic (pre-clone deal), Dooku also tells Sidious about Galidraan, "It was a misguided mission from the start. And not the first of the Council's many...poor decisions."
So what happened afterwards?
Jango alone was captured alive, and for some darn reason the Jedi turned him over to the Governor of Galidraan*. The Governor sold Jango to slavers and he was forced to work on a spice transport, until an opportunity arose to escape.
After escaping, did Jango seek out the Jedi?
No.
He beelined straight back to Galidraan, where the Governor, who had sold him and worked with Death Watch, had taken his armor (Jaster's armor) as some sort of twisted war trophy. He recovered his armor, and threatened the governor to get info on Tor Vizsla's location.
After that, did he go on a revenge campaign against the Jedi?
No.
He went straight for Tor Vizsla, who was PERSONALLY responsible for the deaths of the True Mandalorians at Galidraan. And he fought him. And killed him.
(or more specifically, injured him then let dire-cats eat him alive. Looks like Fetts have always had good luck with animals)
So that's the facts about Galidraan.
After Thoughts:
I hope this breakdown of the events makes it explicitly clear that Death Watch and the Governor were at fault for Galidraan, and that it was never a Mandos vs Jedi conflict. The same thing would have happened had Death Watch chosen a different executioner—though to be fair, not much can kill a trained group of Mandalorian mercenaries like the True Mandalorians.
Could both the True Mandalorians and Jedi have taken different actions that could have averted tragedy? Possibly. But just as likely, had Jango tried to talk, word would have reached the Jedi's ears that oh no, more Mandalorians are slaughtering the Galidraan women and children! (what Death Watch was doing while the True Mandos and Jedi were fighting) and then one of the more hot headed Jedi like Vosa probably would have been like "These negotiations are a distraction! Even now you're killing innocents—we fight!" And the True Mandos would have been killed anyway.
Again, they were set up. The True Mandalorians to be killed, the Jedi to be used as their ignorant executioner. They were not the only parties involved, and any attempt to peacefully negotiate their way out of it would have been hindered by the true aggressors, who already had contingency plans at the ready. And also, both parties were already expecting certain things of the other: Jango knew the Jedi had been sent to kill them (though not why the Jedi believed they should), and the Jedi thought they were a bunch of murderers, not a professional group simply hired for a job.
This is just my personal take, but while I don't think either Jango nor Dooku acted unreasonably at the time of the battle, there were two points where I think they could have made better decisions (marked with * above):
1) When Jango decided to take a job on Galidraan in the first place, knowing in advance that the Governor was friendly with Tor Vizsla and Death Watch. Admittedly, the comic doesn't provide much context for this, and perhaps the intel Jango had suggested a more distant connection, or something else to imply the Governor would be willing to rat out Death Watch. It seems almost cute that Jango goes ok, well I don't want to just randomly bust this guy's door down to threaten him for info on my arch nemesis, so I'm going to do a job for him and get him to owe me, and then we'll talk.
If there is one not so intelligent move Jango made, it seems like this one, though again there's not much context so perhaps it does make more sense.
2) When the Jedi give Jango to the Governor of Galidraan. I don't know about the rest of the Jedi, but Dooku at least seemed to sense that something had gone horribly wrong with the mission immediately after the battle, before they took Jango into custody. But despite KNOWING this, they didn't take the time to thoroughly investigate (better late than never) before handing Jango to his enemies on a silver platter. I would say that the Jedi ARE pretty responsible for this part, especially since they had reason to know better.
This action of the Jedi handing Jango over also implies that even if Jango had complied and he and all of the True Mandalorians had surrendered to the Jedi in hopes of talks, the Jedi would have handed them all over to the Governor (and Death Watch) to either be turned into slaves or executed. So no, I don't think that would have worked out well at all.
(I'm going to give at least Dooku the benefit of doubt, since the comic shows that at least he (and possibly he alone of the Jedi present) recognized that something was wrong. I'd hope that as the leader and presumably most senior member of the group of Jedi, he'd have some sort of authority, but then again, this is the Senate. He might have tried to at least delay Jango being handed over to the Governor until an investigation was conducted, but was perhaps held back by too much legal tape, and had to watch as someone he was sure was a victim was handed over to a suspicious party. Maybe he personally did an investigation afterwards and found that his bad feelings were correct, but when he tried to bring it up with the Council/Senate, he was told to forget about it. That would certainly shatter what remaining faith he had in the Republic and the Jedi, and possibly also lead him to search out Jango specifically as a candidate for the clone project—but again, this is purely speculation. Either way, Galidraan forms a potentially very fascinating connection between Dooku and Jango that predates Sidious.)
On the Jedi:
While the Galidraan conflict isn't about the Jedi, and they were simply used, I think internally, it does reveal some deep flaws in the Jedi Order as a whole, and that Dooku's criticisms of how they acted are fair. Dooku tells Jango, "[Galidraan] was the last of my foolish errands for the Senate. And the Jedi."
The Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, are supposed to understand and help people across the Galaxy, which their connection to the Force is supposed to help with. But by becoming an entity controlled by a political power that responds to mission requests through that chain, the Jedi are at risk of being used for various political agendas, sometimes to terrible consequences—like at Galidraan.
The quote above shows that the orders for the Jedi came from the Senate, who got them from the Governor of Galidraan. The fact is that the Jedi are a completely external force with zero familiarity with Galidraan or its current happenings, who were summoned by a government to do their bidding. If there was any investigation done, it clearly wasn't enough, and the Jedi were essentially turned into super deadly government attack dogs.
Galidraan laid bare the great danger that the Jedi can be, when their power is given to the wrong hands. Again, the Jedi were used—but that they could be used, that they likely have been used in the past and will be used in the future so long as they are beholden to a Republic whose orders they must follow—that's something to think about.
Again, it's not about Jedi vs Mandos. Sure, the fact that the Jedi have bad history with Mandos may have affected the lack of depth in their investigation. But it could have just as easily been "Group of X people are murdering innocents!" and the very same thing could have happened. This conflict revealed far less, "wow the Jedi really hate Mandos!" and more, "the Jedi and the Republic have a flawed relationship, and obeying government orders does not necessarily a peacekeeper make."
Given that the Jedi decided to give Jango to the Governor, I think it's very likely that no deep investigation was ever done into Galidraan, and if it was, it was covered up. After all, it's against the Republic's interests to show that they passed manipulated info to the Jedi, because they can't have the Jedi wanting to question future orders or worse, refuse to obey! And in a way, it's against the Order's interests to show that they not only fucked up by going to the mission at all, but further fucked up by handing the last surviving victim to the enemy after the fact. Add to that the fact that Death Watch was on site actively manipulating evidence and muddling the truth, and Jango no longer has anyone left alive to vouch for him so it's only his word, it's very likely that the truth really never got out of the small circle of those personally involved.
Perhaps the Jedi taught about Galidraan internally as a cautionary tale about being careful about the orders they're given. But given the above, I think that's incredibly generous and frankly unlikely.
On Jango Fett
This leads me to a final point: I disagree that Jango passionately hates and wants revenge on the Jedi.
At least, based on this story, as well as his depiction in the Bounty Hunters video game (which is supposed to be a sequel to this comic, even though its depiction of the start of the cloning contract isn't mutually compatible with the version in this comic) Jango doesn't actually really appear to care all that much about the Jedi at all.
You can say what you will about his actions, but he always has a very clear target for who his enemy is, and he goes straight for them. Immediately post Galidraan, it was the Governor of Galidraan and then Tor Vizsla specifically—not even the rest of Death Watch!
And while there isn't all that much official info on what Jango did after he killed Vizsla until he was pulled into the cloning project, I see zero evidence that he was consumed by revenge, or that he attempted to hunt down the rest of Death Watch or kill any Jedi despite the harm they have done to him in the past.
In fact, from his depiction at the start of the Bounty Hunters game, which I think is the best source of this period of his life that I can think of, it looks like Jango just kind of threw himself into bounty hunting work. After all, one does not have the reputation as "best bounty hunter in the galaxy" overriding "former Mand'alor, leader of the True Mandalorians" unless he did, well, a lot of bounty hunting.
He was a loner who didn't have any friends, which implies he didn't go looking for any surviving True Mandalorians—and there must have been, not everyone could have been in that battle. I suspect it's out of guilt, but that's a separate discussion. He didn't go hunting Jedi specifically, because presumably not many Jedi (who still identify as Jedi) have bounties on them, and "Jedi Killer" would certainly be a reputation louder than bounty hunter if that was his main focus.
But no. He was just a sad, lost dude who's really good at killing people so continues the Honorable Mercenary traditions of his people who are now gone, all by himself. Even the contest that lead to him being chosen as the Prime clone was originally just another job, and he just happened to meet Montross in the process, but he didn't really go out of his way to hunt him down either, despite how he was personally responsible for Jaster's death.
However—if you don't know that about Jango, and again don't have a full understanding of what happened at Galidraan (which again, I doubt many people do), I think it would be very easy to go oh! The Jedi killed all his people! So of course he hates Jedi!
(Which then provides a reason for why the Sith would think he would want to work with them to hurt Jedi—but does NOT explain why the Jedi would not think it suspicious that he's the Prime clone for an army supposedly made to help them. But that too is a separate exploration.)
All of this makes Jango a very fascinating character for me, and I could go on to explore his motivations and actions so much more—and in fact I do!!! All of those explorations of Jango and his motives and past are included as a large part of my fic, The Prime Override! So I won't go into it more here, this post is long enough, but you can check out my thoughts there! (LMAO sudden self-promo)
But anyway!!! I hope this whole thing was interesting for you, and that it helped you understand what happened at Galidraan better!
Again, the comic is Jango Fett: Open Seasons, written by Hayden Blackman, art by Ramon Bachs, Raul Fernandez, and Brad Anderson, published by Dark Horse Comics in 2002.
While I believe the standalone comic is out of print (I had to hunt down my copy on ebay), it's all included in Marvel Unlimited's digital comic library. It's also in the Star Wars Omnibus: Emissaries & Assassins collection, which might be cheaper because it's more recent.
As tragic as Jango's past is, it's one of my favorite Legends stories and I recommend reading the story for yourself if you can!
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millersdjarin · 1 year
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I Only See Daylight
Chapter Three
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: E (eventually)
Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, grogu and his ~powers~, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse
Chapter Length: 6.1k
Previous Chapter | Series Info & Masterlist
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i'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
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In the later hours of the night as it stretches on into the next morning, you take your watch, and unease starts to curl in your stomach as you watch the sky. The clear, inky blackness is being covered by clouds, the wind picking up from the East, cold and nipping at your fingers and toes. In the distance, you could swear you start to hear rumbles of thunder on the hills. 
Kriff. 
It’s not long until you feel the first drop of rain fall on your cheek. You silently pray that it’ll just be a light shower, that it’ll pass quickly with the suddenly gusty winds. 
Of course, that’s not how it happens. No, the rain only gets stronger, the sound of it hitting against the tent now almost as loud as the strong breeze rustling through the trees. You grab your coat from your pack and put it on, tucking your blanket into the shelter of a fallen log as best you can, not wanting it to get wet. 
But it’s getting stronger, the wind picking up even more, thunder getting closer. The first flash of lightning isn’t a surprise, but it still makes you jump as it cracks through the sky all around you, followed shortly by a loud, long rumble of thunder.
“Come inside,” a voice says from behind you as the rain starts to pelt at your coat. 
You turn, and Mando has a hand up to push back the tent so he can stick his head out. “I’m on watch—”
“Come inside,” he says again, this time gesturing for you to do just that.
You’re not going to argue. It’s really throwing it down hard now, your coat already surrendering to the wetness and letting it seep into your clothes. The thunder is right above you, lightning strobing through the thick covering of clouds.
It’s warmer in the tent, thank the Maker. The rain is loud above and around you, but the relief of being beneath some kind of cover is palpable. 
“Thanks,” you say to Mando, wrapping your rather useless coat further around yourself. The kid is awake beside him, snuggled up into his hip with his face pressed against Mando’s flight suit. “Is he scared of the storm?” 
“Yeah. He doesn’t like the noise.” 
“I don’t blame him.”
“Is there anywhere we can go with better cover? I don’t trust this tent to hold in the winds.” 
You chew your lip, thinking. “There’s a small cave a couple klicks North. It’s good shelter. It’ll be warmer.” 
Mando nods. “I say we head for that. I can get the tent packed up in a few minutes—”
Another smash of thunder, this time so loud and sudden that it sounds like an explosion. It makes you jump, an involuntary yelp finding its way up your throat. Grogu jumps too, and cries, his ears turning downwards as he presses himself further into Mando’s leg.
The wind is already pounding against the tent like crazy, as if someone is outside and shaking the frame with all their strength. “We leave the tent,” you decide as Mando lifts Grogu into his arms, cradles him against his neck. “It’s not worth it. We need to get to cover. Away from the tall trees.” 
Mando nods again and starts to get up. He holds open the tent’s door for you, and you accept gratefully, heading outside first before he follows you with the kid in his arms. 
He’s shaking against Mando’s breastplate, hiding his head as far as it’ll go into his shoulder. The thunder is crashing every few minutes, lightning the bright and unrelenting warning of the sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen rain this heavy. 
Before setting off, you scramble in your pack for the spare sweater that you keep at the bottom of it. You lay it over Grogu, tucking him in just like Mando does when he puts him to bed, not allowing in any drafts. Looking up into Mando’s visor, you explain, “Figure he’ll feel safer if he’s covered. Come on, let’s move.”
Your boots are muddy in a matter of minutes, flicks of it spraying all the way up your dark trousers. It takes fifteen minutes of hasty travelling through the forest to find the outcropping of rocks in a clearing at the bottom of a hill. The sky opens up above you and the rain gets even heavier. Fork lightning splits across the zenith, landing a blow onto the ground not far away.
Carefully, you step down onto the incline of the hill, grass slippery beneath your feet. With your hands out at your sides to keep your balance, you turn to the side, taking it one step at a time, the rain pelting down and making huge puddles of wet mud in between the layers of grass. Mando takes up the same position as you, clutching the kid to his chest while keeping him in the satchel. 
It’s getting steeper, more treacherous. Each step you take slips an inch down before your foot finds purchase, the wetness finding its way into your boots and going between your toes.
“Watch your step—” Mando says, just a second too late as your foot falls into a deeper dip in the ground than you’d realised, splashing down into a deep puddle. You lose your balance in an instant and you feel Mando’s hands coming towards you, just about getting hold of your back, but your other foot slips with the force of his rescue and then you’re slipping down a long mudslide, only staying on your feet for a moment before you tumble forwards and onto your side. The ground feels impossibly hard beneath you as you roll all the way down the hill, shoulders smacking into the dirt over and over as the world spins around you. 
You’re so dazed by the tumble, so winded from the force of it, that when you reach the bottom of the slope and finally come to a stop, at first you don’t notice the blinding pain in the back of your calf, and then, a moment later, the lizard tail that suddenly stings at your arm. 
“Shit!” You cry out.
You hear the rain on Mando’s beskar before you even see him appear beside you. You’re not sure how he made it down the hill so fast without slipping, but he’s managed it, holding the kid to his chest with one arm and outstretching the other towards you. 
The pain in your leg and arm is blinding. You’re not sure which is worse. At least you know that the shooting agony in your arm is from a lizard; you can’t tell yet what the hell is stabbing so far into your leg. It feels like you’ve twisted your ankle too, a throbbing starting up beneath the skin. 
“Where are you hurt?” Mando’s voice comes through your pained panting. 
“My—my arm, my leg, my—ah,” you grit your teeth against the tightening feeling in your arm, the lizard’s venom spreading and swelling your entire bicep. “Kriffing hells, my ankle, too.” 
“Can you walk?” 
In the haze that threatens to overtake your vision, you manage to lift up your good arm, the other clutched to your chest, and point to the cave just a few metres away. “The cave is just there, behind that overhang,” the urge to squeeze your eyes shut is almost irresistible, but you know that if you do, when you open them again the venom could temporarily make you blind. “Get the kid inside first.” 
Mando hesitates for a second, but then nods, and runs through the rain into the cave. 
It’s small, only a few metres deep, but the overhang at the front hides the entrance and keeps it almost entirely protected from the elements. You actually found it in a similar situation back when you first got to this planet; the storm wasn’t as sudden, so you searched for a place to hide before it got too bad. This was where you landed, and it kept you safe. Only, back then, you weren’t injured. 
Mando is back out in just a minute, though it feels like longer; you can feel the sting spreading up your arm, the venom travelling through your blood. It’s only when you try to move your injured leg that you realise what the problem is: there’s a tree branch, broken off into a sharp point at one end, embedded in your calf. The ankle below it is swelling already.
“Let’s get inside,” Mando says. “Can you walk?” 
It’s so alien to you to admit that something’s really wrong. But, really, right now, there’s no hiding it. You try to stand up, try to get both feet under you, but your injured leg buckles beneath you the minute you put weight on it. The tree branch is still in your flesh. “N—No,” you answer his question, catching yourself on the ground before you tumble face-first into it.
He catches you, wrapping an arm around your waist and slinging one of your arms around his shoulders. “Come on, lean on me,” he instructs, and you do. 
The two of you stagger to the cave. Once you’re inside, the relief of being free of the rain and wind seems to lessen the pain a little. Not much, but enough that you notice it, despite the fact that you’re suddenly aware of just how covered in mud you are. With your good arm, you reach for the flashlight in your pack, and hold it up to illuminate the space. Grogu is at the far end, tucked into a corner and still wrapped in your sweater. 
“Sit down,” Mando tells you. Carefully, he lowers you to the cave floor, leaning you against the wall. Grunts of pain come from your throat as the unpleasant sensations wash over you: a mix of feverish heat from the venom, the searing pain from the tree branch, and the throbbing of your ankle. Your vision starts to swim, gathering black spots.
“Hey,” Mando dips his head to try and meet your eyes, but everything is spinning, you can only see bits and pieces of the light, “Hey, look at me. Look at me, can you hear me?” 
Blinking in a haze, you manage to nod. “It’s—the venom,” you rasp. Dizziness washes over you and stays there, rendering every inch of your wounded body unable to move, feeling like the world is shifting around you and you’re going in the opposite direction. 
You can’t get your eyes to focus on him, but he tries to meet them anyway, dipping his visor with the lolling movement of your head. “I thought you said it wasn’t lethal?” He asks, then presses a gloved hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up.” 
“It’s…it’s not lethal,” your voice is just a breath now as the pain turns to weakness, dizziness becoming all you know, and you can’t imagine a world that doesn’t feel like it’s spinning on its head. “Just really…really shit.” 
“I need to get your jacket off, take a look at the wound,” he says and tugs at the lapels of your coat.
You nod permission, so he carefully removes it, and rolls down the neck of your long-sleeved shirt to inspect the sting.
He puts his hand back to your forehead. If you were more coherent, you’d maybe wonder how he can feel the heat of your skin through those gloves; then again, though, you can feel just how hot you’re getting. Sweat sticks to your neck, glistens in between your fingers. 
“Is there an antidote?” 
“Mando, my…my leg, it’s…” 
“I know, I know,” he says, sounding more frantic than you’ve ever heard him. Calmer than most people would be, you’re sure, but frantic for The Mandalorian. He looks to your leg, crouches down beside it. “The branch is stopping it bleeding for now. I need to get your fever down before I can do anything else, or you’re going to pass out.” 
“’M fine,” you can hear your words slurring, feeling them barely slipping past your numb lips. “Get the branch out…” 
“Are you sure? I—kid, stay back, it’s not—oh.” 
In your delirium you only just register the change in Mando’s tone. The soft realisation as he says oh. 
There’s the gentle pitter patter of feet waddling towards you. You manage to control your swaying head enough to look down and find Grogu padding over, his ears turned downwards in concern, the little hairs on his head soaking wet. He’s reaching a hand out towards you, and it’s not until he’s just inches away that you realise he’s trying to touch the wound. The stinger wound that currently feels like it’s on fire, that is somehow worse than the literal tree branch you have embedded in your calf muscle. 
You go to push him away, to tell him no, but Mando takes hold of your arms and squeezes lightly. “It’s okay,” he says, watching as Grogu settles beside you and starts to close his eyes. “It’s alright. He’s helping you.” 
Wide-eyed and confused, you glance between the two of them. Every instinct is telling you to shout Get away from me! Kid, please don’t touch me!, but you can’t move, can barely even see enough to notice Grogu’s hand stopping just an inch above the sting. 
And then, you feel it.
The venom, once spreading all the way from the site and up your shoulders, rendering them unable to move or flex, begins to retreat. You can feel it, like the opposite of running water through your veins, drawing out from the wound. The burning heat of it sates, leaving coolness in its wake. Leaving your blood normal again, the pain receding. 
What the fuck is happening? 
It feels like your arm is deflating like a balloon. The dizziness subsides, the world coming back into focus around you and the black spots dissipating. All that’s left now is your panting, breaths coming deep and fast from your lungs as you recover from the pain, from a fever being literally taken away from you in seconds. 
Mando’s hands are still on your arms, though not to hold you in place; they’re too gentle for it. They’re almost comforting. 
“Good job, kid,” you hear Mando say, and if you weren’t so confused by the whole ordeal, you might hear the smile in his voice. 
As you look down at the kid again, he looks up at Mando, his ears perking up at the praise. You panic, though, when his eyelids start drooping. He careens to the side, dropping to the floor as his eyes close completely. 
“Grogu!” You cry, but Mando tightens his grip on your arms again, coaxing you to look at him instead. 
“It’s okay. He’s alright, that happens sometimes after he uses his powers.” 
“His—his what?” 
Mando sighs like he doesn’t have time for this. Which, okay, he doesn’t. “I’ll explain later. How do you feel?” 
“I—better,” you reply, confusion only growing with the answer. Your leg and ankle, however, still hurt like fuck. “My—my leg, Mando, the branch…” 
He reaches into his satchel and brings out a medpack. “I’m going to get it out,” he says. Then, lifting his visor to look at you, “It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.” 
Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you nod, and tip your head back against the cave wall behind you, bracing yourself for the pain. 
It’s a tearing, skin-searing pain as the gnarled piece of pointy wood is extracted from your leg. Mando does it quickly, not wanting to draw the procedure out, but, Maker, ripping something like that out from your calf muscle is something you definitely feel. 
You cry out, bringing your hand up to your mouth to dampen the sound. Tears well in the corners of your eyes and you screw your eyes shut, trying to stop them from falling. 
Mando gets to work holding pressure on the wound, and that hurts too, feels like he’s pressing against the bone with a long, wide iron rod. He doesn’t say anything, but out of the corner of your eye you catch him glancing up at you every few seconds, every time you let out choked cries of pain.
A traitorous tear slips past your defences. You don’t have it in you to wipe it away. 
“Breathe,” Mando reminds you, soft but firm. “You need to breathe.” 
Frantic, you nod, and do as he says. The breath enters your lungs with great effort, your body starting to feel the bruises from tumbling down the hill so fast. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, trying to stay calm and focus on the breath rather than the pain. 
Soon, the bleeding stops, and Mando applies a bandage, wrapping it all the way around your leg. 
“Your ankle is swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken,” he tells you, placing fingers so gently over the swelling that it’s just the ghost of a touch. “It’s probably a sprain.” 
You nod in agreement. You’ve sprained this ankle before, and it does feel the same, if maybe a little worse because of the wound above it. 
Mando cracks a disposable ice pack and waits for it to turn cold before he places it over your ankle, gently holding it there with his gloved hands. “How does it feel?” 
“Not great,” you say, wry, feeling the sweat on your forehead and neck start to go cold now that your fever has gone. Speaking of, “What just happened? With the kid?” 
Mando doesn’t answer at first, concentrating just a little too much on the ice pack. Then, “He’s got powers. He can heal people.” 
“I—what?” 
“How much pain are you in?” He asks instead of elaborating. 
The lack of explanation and sudden change in topic startles you. You blink, and consider your answer. “Quite a lot, but I’m okay. I just…I just need to rest.” 
Mando nods. “We’re dry in here until the storm stops. Are you warm enough?”
You want to nod, want to tell him that you’re fine and that he doesn’t have to take care of you, but the cold sweat drying on your skin has you shivering. “Not really,” you answer honestly.
Without a word, Mando grabs the empty tent pack and pulls out a spare blanket. He starts to spread it over you, but you stop him, putting gentle and cautious hands on his wrists. The touch seems to surprise him; he looks up, stopping in his tracks. 
Too overwhelmed by touching him, you pull your hands away and distract yourself by looking down at the kid. “Is he okay?” 
“He just needs rest.” 
You nod, then pat your lap. “He can share the blanket with me.” 
A pause. An unreadable stare. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes. He’s all wet, I don’t want him getting cold.” 
Another pause, then a gentle nod, and Mando lifts the sleeping Grogu into your lap. You cradle him in the crook of your good arm as Mando tucks you both under the blanket. It’s such a soft, caring gesture; warmth blooms in your chest despite the pain you’re in, and for a moment, you’re lost in the darkness of his visor. Wondering about him. About his eyes. About his hands, his heart. Just wondering.…
“How long do storms usually last around here?” 
“N—not long. Just a few hours.” 
He nods. “Then you should rest until then.” 
“I’m in too much pain to sleep,” you tell him, looking his helmet all over, not caring if he sees you taking in every inch of him. It doesn’t seem to bother him; he’s looking right back at you, maybe even observing you in the same detail behind that visor. Hesitant, you chew your bottom lip for a moment. He moves away, goes to stand up. “Wait,” you say before you can think better of it. He stops, waits. “Can you tell me about your travels?” 
He tilts his helmet. “My travels?” 
“Yes. Just—tell me about somewhere you’ve been. Somewhere pretty.” 
Abandoning his mission to stand up, he settles down on the floor in front of you, propping one leg up so he can rest his elbow on it, the other bent on the cave ground. He’s got your flashlight facing the roof of the cave, and it casts a white, shadowy light through the place, making him look somehow dark and light all at once. 
He’s quiet, at first. You’re just starting to think he isn’t going to tell you, doesn’t want to share anything about himself. 
But then you realise he’s just thinking about his answer. Because he wants to give a real one.
“Takodana has beautiful forests…” 
-
“You should go back,” you say, gritting your teeth through the pain in your leg. 
Mando looks at you from his place by the cave’s entrance, Grogu cradled in one of his arms as the daylight streams in and reflects off his shiny armour. “I’m not leaving you here,” he says.
“You should. I can’t walk, but I’ve got enough rations to make it work here until the pain is better.” 
“I said, I’m not leaving you here.” 
You stare at him as he stares right back. Challenging. 
It’s not that you want to be left alone out here. Being alone is something you’re used to—in fact, it’s often the way you like it—but being stuck in this cave without your own strength, relying on your rations, isn’t your idea of a good time, nor a particularly good idea.
But equally, feeling like you’re holding two people back from living their life just because you fell down a hill will be a weight on your shoulders. It’s easy to slip into guilt at the idea. Mando and Grogu have helped you enough by healing and patching you up. You’ve had your hike, you’re only a day and a half’s walk from your hut, and the storm has passed. There’s no reason for Mando to stay; at least, not one that won’t make you feel absolutely terrible for making him put his life on hold. Their life on hold, whatever that may entail. 
(Bounty hunting, probably.) 
“Mando…” you say, but he interrupts you. 
“I’ll go back for the tent, now the storm has passed.” 
“The tent will be shredded. You know that.” 
“Do you have another one?” 
“At home? Yes. With me? No.” 
“Then if you can’t camp, how are you going to get back to your hut before the sun sets?” 
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll do it alone. I can sleep out in the open.” 
He turns his whole body to face you, places one hand on his hip, impatient. “That’s not a good idea.” 
“In case you forgot, this is my planet. I can handle myself.” 
He stays pointedly quiet, tilting his helmet briefly to look down at your still-bandaged, still-swollen leg. 
“I can handle myself enough,” you mutter, correcting yourself. “I mean it, Mando. You don’t have to stay here for me. This wasn’t part of our agreement.” 
“We didn’t make an agreement.” 
You sigh frustratedly and tip your head back against the wall behind you, finding it cold and damp. You don’t want to be left here alone. In fact, the very thought is terrifying. 
But he’s got his own life. He’s got a kid. He’s got a bounty to get. You may not know much about him, but you are certain that he’s got more important things to do than sit in this cave and babysit you while you heal enough to walk to your silly little hut. 
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he says again, this time firmer. “If you don’t want me around, I can make camp outside. But I won’t leave you here injured.” 
“No, that’s not—” there doesn’t seem to be a way to say I want you around that doesn’t sound weird, so you just cut yourself off, and close your eyes. “Alright,” you relent, quiet. “Alright. Thank you. You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“I know,” he says. “I’m going to go back to the camp, see what’s left of it. Do you need anything before we go?” 
Keeping your eyes closed as a blush creeps its way onto your cheeks, you shake your head. It’s been so long since you accepted help; since anyone offered it. In fact, you can’t remember the last time it happened. 
A thought that you have fought so hard to push down comes to the surface. It tastes sour on your tongue, sitting still in the back of your mind like it knows its very presence is enough to unravel you. 
I don’t deserve his help. 
You swallow the lump of tears that rises in your throat. 
“I won’t be long,” Mando’s voice offers a welcome reprieve from the guilt, the shame. But when you open your eyes again, he and the kid are gone. 
There are a lot of reasons that you chose this lonely life. Freedom, safety, a fresh start. And, maybe above all else, it was to escape the heavy feeling that you are a burden on everyone you meet. 
Because that’s what they told you you are. 
And, even now, years since you found your freedom, you still believe it. 
It’s easy to forget when there’s no one else around. 
The day stretches on. You doze off at one point, having spent half the night awake running from the storm and falling down a hill. The place where the lizard stung your arm is still sore, but only from the wound itself, not from the venom. You’re glad, at least, that on top of everything else, you’re not having to sit here stewing in a fever. Grogu saw to that. 
However the fuck he did that. 
You’ve heard of the Force, of having abilities that go beyond the realm of imagination. It could be that, you suppose, but you’ve never seen someone heal like that before. Let alone a kid. 
The evening is fast approaching, and for a while, you start to think that Mando isn’t coming back. That maybe, halfway between here and your abandoned camp, he looked at the kid’s big eyes and realised he was better off just leaving you here. He could’ve done that with a clear conscience. He knows you’ll most likely survive here without him. 
Which makes you wonder why he’s staying at all. Why he insisted on it.
Perhaps it’s his Creed. 
Or maybe it’s just who he is. 
He does come back as the sun starts to set. You can see the orange glow of the air outside the cave, feel a soft evening breeze brushing in through the foliage that hangs past the overhanging rock above the entrance. The contrast from the weather this morning is stark, and welcome. Outside, you hear his footsteps, hear the kid babbling away. Metal clangs loudly and through a gap in the leaves you see Mando tying his pallet of loot from the wreckage to a nearby tree.
Grogu coos happily when they step inside. You give him a tired smile, then look to Mando, who has a full pack slung over his back. 
“The tent covering was mostly shredded. But our sleeping mats, pillows, and blankets were intact,” he announces, dropping the pack on the floor in front of you. 
You look at it, then back to him. It’s been horribly uncomfortable to sit on this hard, stone floor all day. Your behind went numb hours ago, and the rock at your back has started to dig uncomfortably into your shoulder blade. 
As if reading your thoughts, or your pain, Mando crouches down to open the pack, pulling out a sleeping mat. He lays it beside you, parallel to the stretch of the wall. Taking one of the air pillows, he puts it at one end of the mat. One of the other pillows has deflated. It sits on the floor beside him. 
He drapes a blanket over the plump one, covering any lingering wetness. 
You watch him. He’s not saying anything, just moving quietly and methodically, building you a bed inside this dimly lit, chilly cave. It’s so fucking endearing, so tender, of him; it brings a warmth to your chest, blooming out unfamiliarly into your arms and belly. 
Once he’s done, he takes hold of the deflated pillow, puts his fingers over the air hole. Lifts it up to his covered mouth, hesitates.
“I’ll do it,” you say, reaching out for it. He lets you take it, and your fingertips brush against his gloves as you pull away. A shudder goes down your spine. You try your best to conceal it, and bring the air hole to your mouth before blowing the pillow up again. 
“Thank you,” he says, taking it back from you and then propping it up against the cave wall beside the bed. 
“You’re thanking me?” You raise an eyebrow. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 
He gestures to the empty bed with his hand and a tip of his helmet.
Feeling just a little self-conscious under his unseen gaze, you shuffle across the floor as best you can without jostling your injured leg too much. A few grunts and gritted teeth later, you’re sitting with your butt on the soft mat, your back leaning into the air pillow against the wall. 
The sigh of relief comes from your mouth before you give it permission. Your head tips back, eyes closing. “Maker,” you curse under your breath, “that’s so much better.” 
“Good.” 
You crack an eye open. “What about you?” 
“There’s another mat.” 
“Oh. Right.” You look across at the kid, who’s standing in the cave entrance, reaching up to play with the plants that hang down just inches from the floor. He giggles to himself with each leaf he successfully hits and swings. You find yourself smiling, unable to help it. His little hops are just so darn cute. 
“I also went on a hunt,” Mando says, and brings out some fresh meat wrapped in the remains of the tent canvas. He’s already skinned and gutted it, ready to put it straight into a pan. “I thought we should save rations where we can.” 
You nod, feeling a tightness squeeze at your throat, a stinging in your nose. No one has ever done this much for you before. Not without ulterior motives. 
And you’ve tried to find one for him. Tried to dig, to look into the parts of him that he’s shown you. But there is no hidden reason for him to help you. 
If he was here to collect your bounty all along, he’d just render you unconscious, and carry you back to his ship himself. 
If he wanted to hurt you, to take advantage of you, he could easily have overpowered you by now. In your sleep, after you fell, when the fever was taking hold. Even afterwards, as the sun rose, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness as waves of pain came over you. 
But he didn’t. 
All he did was sit quietly. Played with the kid. Fed the kid. Fed you.
And then insisted on staying, even when it made no logical, self-serving sense for him to do so.
“Why are you helping me?” You find yourself asking as the tightness in your throat turns into another lump of emotion. 
His helmet lifts, hands stilling in their task of retrieving the portastove from his pack. 
He doesn’t answer. Just stares. 
“You get nothing from this,” you say, unsure why you’re trying again to convince him to leave you here alone, when he’s already done so much for you, made this whole thing comfortable and bearable by just being here—“Why stay?” 
For another long moment, he remains quiet. Then, unexpectedly, “This is the Way.” 
That’s…not an explanation.
And you have nothing better to do than ask for further information. “What does that mean?” 
He looks back down at the stove, moves over to set it up by the open air. He gathers a pan, puts the meat in it, and dusts off his gloves. Even though he’s not answering, you get the feeling that he’s not ignoring you. So you wait. Watching him. 
“It’s part of my Creed,” he says eventually. “My religion.”
You raise an eyebrow, dubious. “To help people?” 
“In a sense.” 
You’ve never met someone part of any kind of religion that helps people. You’re not sure if it’s comforting or not, the fact he only does it because of his Creed. Or, so he says. 
“That the only reason?” You find yourself asking, probably just a little too confident to be asking more questions when he’s already given you an answer. Which is more than you would probably give him. 
He looks at you again. It’s incredible, how he manages to hold a shared gaze without you seeing his eyes. “It’s the right thing to do,” he says. It surprises you, that he’s given you another answer. 
Warmth blooms in your chest again. You smile, soft. “Well,” you say, “thank you. I appreciate it.” 
He cooks up the meat. Grogu hovers beside him. At one point he reaches out for the pan, going for a chunk of food, but Mando carefully slaps his hand away, points a finger at him, and says, “No. It’s hot. You’ll burn yourself.” To which Grogu listens, instead settling at Mando’s hip, seeming fascinated by the cracks and sizzles coming from the pan. 
Once Mando has served both you and the kid your meals, Grogu waddles over with his little bowl, settles himself down on the mat beside you. You give him a smile and an affectionate wrinkle of your nose.
“It’s hot,” you warn him. 
Grogu looks down at his food, then back at you, and the vaguest hint of a nod comes from his head. Then, in what is probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he leans forward, making the tiniest ‘O’ shape with his little mouth, and blows on the food. 
Mando, who is sitting against the wall opposite you, makes a noise that sounds like a fond laugh. It’s so surprising to hear that you snap your eyes up to look at him. You don’t know why you were expecting to see his face. It’s easy, when not looking at him, to forget that all you can see when you do is a helmet, all you can hear is his voice through it. 
He’s got one leg bent up, his arm resting on it, hanging down over his middle. You’re not sure if he’s watching you or Grogu. Maybe it’s both. 
You don’t know which you want the answer to be. 
“So what about you?” He asks. His voice startles you as you put a hunk of meat up to your mouth, and it falls in before you have chance to blow on it. It’s fucking hot, but not quite hot enough to burn. 
You hide your misstep by just chewing it like nothing happened. Something in the quirk of his helmet, though, shows you that he noticed. And he’s amused. 
Clearing your throat, you ask, “What about me?” 
“Why did you help me?” He asks. “Getting nothing in return?” 
A soft frown creases at your forehead. Looking away, you stab at your food. “Same as you.” 
“A Creed?” 
You snort humourlessly. “I live here on a planet alone, and you think I’m part of a creed with other people?”
He hesitates. “You haven’t always been alone, though,” he questions, and his voice is soft, unnervingly so, like he’s unsure whether he should ask, “have you?” 
You freeze. Stare down at your mess tin, at the oil and the red meat. Your thoughts start racing again, taking you back to the time when you weren’t alone, when you were never allowed to be alone. When there was no peace. 
“I’m sorry,” Mando’s voice comes up again, softer still. “I overstepped.” 
You go to shake your head, to tell him it’s alright, that he didn’t. But there are tears at the backs of your eyes. Memories flooding in. 
No, I haven’t always been alone. 
But now I am. And I have to stay that way. 
Just about mustering enough strength to shake your head, you shove another mouthful in to your mouth and chew it silently. 
Mando just watches. You, or maybe the kid. 
You still don’t know which you’d prefer. And that is terrifying. 
You never wanted to be seen again.
Now, you’re not so sure.
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notes: i'd like to go camping in a cave with din and grogu pls and thank.
hope you enjoyed as always; all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️
if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know!
take care of yourself ❤️
taglist:
@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412
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backgroundrando · 1 year
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This season’s first episode unlocked every side quest possible and now we have to wait and see in which order Din chooses to start
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kedsandtubesocks · 1 year
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for @the-wild-wolves-around-you @ofmermaidstories and @willowser because you each deserve some good mando baku 🩶
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆
“Wait mandalorians can get married?” You are more curious than anything and the question leaves you before you can even keep your mouth shut.
All focus is on the crowd before you. Everyone, including the familiar crimson beskar wearing warrior Kirishima, rushed to congratulate the two other mandalorians who stepped out of the tent. The couple simply walked out, announced they were married, and immediately celebration broke forth so fast, so bright it stole your breath. There was no question from the others, only joy and trust. You understood different cultures had various marriage traditions. Yet this one was so different than the other grand ceremonies composed of elegant gowns and fully packed banquet halls. It felt...more intimate.
“Yes we can marry, shitty Jedi.” Bakugo sounds almost offended and your heart crumbles fast into your stomach. This tentative whatever the two of you have forged is important to you and you don’t want to shatter it.
You apologize and mean it. “I didn’t know. The ceremony seemed so fast and private though.”
“It is.” Bakugo’s modulated voice drops softer through the helmet.
“Don’t know if it’s true, but there’s some old ass urban legend the first mandalorian marriage was done during battle. No ceremony, no pompous bullshit. The two just exchanged vows in the middle of battle to bind their lives together.”
An image surges fast in your mind. Two ancient warriors fighting side by side, the trenches of battle pushing the lovers further and further to the terrifying realization they might not see tomorrow. Their love, bloodstained and battle born.
“Legend says the shit they vowed became the vows mandalorians have said ever since.”
It’s a beautiful, sacred and so simple. But it conjures up a deadly new thought in your mind -
An army of storm troopers surrounds you. The ache of battle soaks you to your bones. Your body barely stands back to back against beskar. Suddenly you move without thinking. You turn fast towards the fierce mandalorian. With your lightsaber in one hand, the other reaches out to him and you find the familiar beautiful black colored beskar helmet is already looking at you. Without hesitation he grabs your hand-
You exhale loud, blinking back into reality as you mentally stab those thoughts away.
“That’s beautiful.” You truthfully admit, admiring as a grateful outsider. “I'm thinking the ceremonies are private for the sake of the helmet removal.”
“Yeah. S'why even other mandalorians aren't usually around when it happens. And cause...” Bakugo’s modulated gruff voice trails off. “…Shit, I’m going to sound even more ridiculous-”
“You won’t I promise.” You interrupt reassuring him as your eyes finally glance at him. His helmet is slightly tilted towards you. He sighs and looks back out to the crowd. You do as well.
“The vows, they're important. No one but us or those we're marrying can know them.“
They are meant to be said in private for that reason. The sacredness of knowing is too precious, meant to be shared with someone special. An aggressive curiosity claws at you. You want to know what is spoken and vowed. You rationalize this curiosity as simply wanting to understand the culture more. However, the force whispers the true reason why into the deep caverns of your heart and you cannot even face that truth yet.
The lightsaber silent on your hip weighs more than an entire galaxy.
“Hey guys!” Kirishima, loud and warm even through his helmet. “Isn’t it great?”
“It is.” You answer with a warm earnest grin. “I hope everyone gets to celebrate with the newlyweds.”
“Oh yeah! We already got a few plans in mind.” Kirishima’s voice holds a playful grin in it. Even though you cannot see his face you believe it to be just as bright as the two moons shining above.
“This making you think about your own upcoming ceremony, huh Bakugo?!” Then Kirishima’s words grab your heart. He slaps Bakugo’s shoulder playfully and the clanging clash of beskar hitting beskar makes your mind rattle.
“Get the fuck out of here.” Bakugo’s snarl is sharp, piercing. You had never even heard him talk this way to his fellow commander.
“Alright, alright I get it. Those pre marriage jitters I’m sure get to everyone even you!” Kirishima however is not phased one bit. He waves a playful goodbye and returns to the celebrating.
But it leaves you two alone again. The air is thin and tight. Even with the warm laughs and celebration bubbling so close, a dread builds.
“You’re…getting married?” Your voice is small, a bit confused. You do not even recognize it.
A moment passes.
“I…yeah.” He replies. The words puncture a hole in your chest and air is rapidly escaping. A hollowness quickly fills up the gaping space.
“It’s a political arrangement between the different clans.” Bakugo’s voice is composed, but it does not sound like him.
In the entire time you have known this warrior, you had never once heard him speak about his betrothed, much less about his impending marriage. And…you had never once heard him speak this quiet, almost distant.
“Oh.” Your voice mirrors his, just as quietly detached.
“Congratulations then.” You hate that you cannot find a single thread of celebration in your tone or feel any earnestly as the hollowness consumes you.
“I'm praying for the poor sucker stuck with marrying you.” You jokingly tease but the minute the words leave you, your eyes start to sting. Your lips twitch and the taste of tears comes in the back of your throat. An ache you cannot even process yet has the force retreating from you like a sacred small creature. All you do is simply swallow everything back.
Bakugo stays quiet, does not even respond to your jest or thank you for the congratulations.
Under the light of the two moons, the cheers of the marriage celebration continue to illuminate the air.
And you walk away, not saying another word.
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Was browsing through early BOBF/Mando S3 criticisms on Tumblr and WOW, 93% of S2’s viewership dropped when S3 finished airing for an extremely understandable reason. As someone who got into Dinluke after all the dust settled I can only imagine what it was like becoming invested in Din’s story and being floored by the S2 finale only for it to get totally swerve-balled after a long-anticipated wait. How did you avoid the disappointment and burnout?
Spite is an incredibly powerful motivator, let me tell you.
I'm halfway joking about that, btw. I could say I'm used to disappointment and I also worked really hard not to take things too personally after being disappointed time and again year after year by fandoms I was in. Imo the healthiest attitude is that no show/movie/book/videogames/etc will ever play out the way you want/think it should so take what you can get and trash the rest. By the time I started watching The Mandalorian, I'd been burnt badly by Star Trek AOS, the Sequel Trilogy, the MCU, and the Disney machine, and I had to figure out how to accept that I like what I like, I can't change what I can't change, and I can/will run the fuck off with what I can change, which is making wildly fun and fulfilling transformative shit like fanfics and fanart.
I was actually excited about TBOBF and was utterly betrayed by the executive decision to throw him and Fennec to the side in order to absolutely trash the Season 2 finale of the Mando Show by having Din and Grogu reunite just like that. I guess I got lucky in that I had a long-running fic series that I was heavily invested in and I was not about to let Disney stop me from finishing it. Instead of letting my frustrations kill my interest in the show and fandom, I turned it into motivation to keep telling the story I wanted to tell based on the fallout of Season 2. It also helped that Andor happened.
I quit Season 3 of the Mando Show after the 1st episode and it was the best decision I ever made. I had a really rough time with it and was encouraged to step away if it was giving me too much stress. I'm glad for that. Less time and energy picking about Filoni&Favreau and Disney Lucasfilm's decisions and disappointments, more time and energy spent writing and drawing the dinluke I want to see. The nice thing about Star Wars is that it is an old and vast sandbox. Plenty of room here to build whatever sandcastles and dig however many holes you want while canon goes floundering by.
I think also that it really helped to find spaces to share with people who vibe on the same wavelength, so I'm not alone to my thoughts and spiraling myself out of a fandom I enjoyed (like what happened with TLJ but I shan't go there bc this response is long enough). Those posts about having friends you can shit-talk things with? Valid af. You need outlets to vent your grievances without setting bridges on fire, and it'll help your enjoyment of things in the long run.
I didn't avoid the disappointment but I figured out how to make something of it, so I'm still writing dinluke, I'm still drawing dinluke, I'm still getting giddy over dinluke. I actively choose to do what I want with them, and nothing Disney Lucasfilm puts out is ever going to stop me.
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