archie and all his friends

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There are currently four of us writing for this blog, our personals listed below. Don’t be shy, go ahead and shoot us a dm. We don’t bite too hard <3

archie: @pedropoop jay: @midnightsmelodies brooke: @fortheloveofhulk jesse: @decemberfame

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long time no see! hopefully this isn't just going out into the invisible void. i've been absent for a while because life goes on, but i once again crave to exercise my writing muscles. only, my creative juices aren't creative-juicing.

i've been indulging in the universe of dune and would love to write for one or two characters from there - but at present, i'm not sure where to start!

this is a long-winded way of saying:

my inbox is open for paul, feyd-rautha and leto atreides ideas!

if you have any lingering plot bunnies that you'd like to see written, please send them in to me! i'd love to have a crack and get the juices flowing again. i've missed writing and interacting with you all like crazy, so hopefully this is the gateway!

archie <3

Summary: The plan: adopt an evacuee to help on your Inverness farm. Not the plan: adopting two.

hi, it's me again! i've been away for a while (sorry) but the power that karl weissman holds is vast and only a fix-it fic for him and esther can save my soul. we'd all love to adopt them. if you haven't watched netflix's bodies, definitely give it a shot! if anyone has any ideas for lovely karl, please comment or send them in! i'd love to write more for him and some pointers would be great. <3warnings: mentions of war and death, mourning. karl using yet another name. word count: 2666 written by: archie

You hovered on the platform, watching as the countless evacuees from London came pouring out of the carriages. Dozens on dozens of children, ready for a new, safer life. They were each swept up by loving new mothers, fussing over their name tags and taking their wee little suitcases, escorting them to cars and buses for a few years of family. The smiling kids were chosen first. They’d clearly had coaching on how to be picked, smiling through the trauma of being uprooted from their lives and planted into the unknown. And then, one by one, the sorry looking ones were claimed. Tatters for clothes, no luggage, barely a silver coin to offer their new parents.

You could give them a better life. You could have, with your chickens and sheep. There’d be eggs for breakfast, newly knitted cardigans, markets on weekends-- and no air raids at all. You’d be warm to the new presence in your cottage, happy even to take siblings that didn’t want to be split, and yet… You just hovered there, wringing your hands, letting every opportunity hurry by. It wouldn’t be hard to reach out and introduce yourself. Why didn’t you? Why couldn’t you bring yourself to step amongst the aspiring foster parents, offering your life to the sweetlings that so desperately needed it?

You sighed, the ache in your chest hollowing as the train departed the station once more. The chatter of evacuees and new parents trickled away, eventually leaving an almost barren platform. The bite of Scottish air dusted your nose pink, but you weren’t sure that the water in your eyes was from the chill.

It wasn’t your first time almost taking in an evacuee. It’d been the same every time. You’d excite yourself with the prospect of the weekly train from London, the thought of a happy little voice in your cottage instead of the silence of your own existence and the occasional caw of a cockerel. You really needed it. To have someone around again. And it always seemed like such a good idea until you were stood on the platform, faced with the reality of the responsibility of a child on your own. A far cry from the future you’d imagined. You and your husband, raising a wee happy family of your own.

Ever since your husband had responded to the war’s call for soldiers, you’d intended to do your best for the war effort and save a child from the bombs of the London Blitz, like a practice for when he came home and you could try for a real family, bringing you a step closer to everything you’d wanted.

Until the postman brought one fateful letter, ending your ideal future and shaking you to the core. Your husband wouldn’t be returning, you wouldn’t have a child with him. The thought of bringing a child into your house and doing it alone…

Then why did the empty platform, devoid of opportunity, hurt you so? Ah, maybe if there was just one child left. A sad, lonely one, hiding somewhere? There’d be so much in common.

You steeled yourself, deciding that on the off chance there was one poor evacuee left in need, you’d take them in, no questions asked. No thinking. No room for doubt. It was time to be stern with yourself, so you marched up the platform, looking in the crevices of the station building, anywhere that a poor wee soul might fold themselves in a corner. The telephone nooks would be the most likely spot.

And sure enough, there was a child! A little girl in a bright red, soot-ridden coat. Only… She was already with a foster parent, peering up at the sharply-dressed man in a trilby hat while he was on the phone.

Her eyes were so round and sweet, her little fist clinging to the edge of the man’s coat, and something unpleasant made a home in your chest. Why did he get to have a child? Sure, he must be on good money to wear a pin-striped suit like that, important enough not to be called away for the military. Maybe he had a wife waiting for them back at home. Why should he have a spouse and a child when you had neither? And she seemed so lovely, too…

work’s been tiring me out but i promise, i’m working on the next chishiya fic. from the way it’s going, it looks like it could be rather lengthy so it might have a wait time still— writing a game from scratch is HARD? who knew.

i’ve also been rewatching narcos in my downtime so if y’all think i forgot about pedro… how could i ever? </3

idk about you guys but i’m STOKED to see the last of us and when there’s more material and i have more time, you can bank on seeing some of that here. and mandalorian soon too? we’re spoiled. SPOILED.

and don’t even get me started on attack on titan announcement omg. slain.

Imagine being a regular at Karube’s bar.

this wasn’t even requested, i just. i just. let’s heal, friends. warnings: alcohol, arisu and chota being (beautiful) idiots, japanese terms, shy!reader. idk, he just seems so gentle and sweet even if he Does punch people in the face. you see it? written by: archie (ko-fi)

It was your favourite spot to come to.

The music was good, the drinks weren’t too expensive, the decor made for a homely but fun vibe. These were only half the reason you’d populate the bar every Thursday night, though.

It was that blond behind the counter.

Not a natural blond, of course, far from it. The bleach had done its best on his stubborn dark hair, pulling it kicking and screaming through shades until it reached a strawberry blond. His eyebrows were thick and dark, showcasing the stubbornness of his strands. He wore it so proudly, styled it the same way every time you saw it, and always shone that crooked smile at the sight of you. He was nothing short of stunning.

“Ah, Thursday-san,” he greeted when you stepped up to the bar, and an overwhelming wave of shyness swallowed you. “I was waiting for you.”

Still, you’d push through it to shine him a charmed smile, pink dusting on your cheeks. “Karube-san,” you’d greet with a nod, hands perched on the edge of the bar politely. “You were waiting? Were there not enough distractions today?”

He laughed aloud and glanced around to the mostly empty establishment - only a couple of people in booths and two giggling regulars at the bar. You recognised them as his friends, and he gestured to them. “Plenty of distraction. These two won’t get off my back.”

A bubble of cackles from his friends filled the air, and it was surprisingly contagious. You allowed yourself a quiet hum of amusement, and Karube noticed the light in your eyes.

They always seemed so dull, so sad until you came to the bar. Somewhere along the line, he’d grown addicted to catching your eyes smiling, and it was the only reason he never missed a Thursday shift, no matter how much it’d drag. It was always the quietest of days so he’d be the only one to work. Arisu and Chota would drop by in the evenings to make it go that little bit faster, but once all the chips were down, a Thursday shift was worth it to see you.

“Is it just you? What are we having tonight?” He shone, leaning on the counter. He was tall enough to tower over you, but was always sure never to intimidate you, especially with how skittish you seemed.

He watched the choices tick through your mind and was happy to be met with a “What do you recommend?”

He grinned. He could put his knowledge to use again. “Well, I can make you a little something. You have a sweet tooth, right?”

“Right,” you grinned back.

“And no vodka, no pineapple.”

“No vodka, no pineapple,” you agreed, face lit with glee.

Although a stranger, it was ridiculously rewarding to see you like this. And then he leant over the bar, voice low as if he had a secret just for you. “I’ll blow your mind.” He took the chance to deliver a wink, and with that, was reaching for glasses.

Your brows raised at his cheekiness, smile faltering now that his back was turned. Somehow, Karube was special. He was able to make you feel so cleanly at ease even without knowing the first thing about you outside of your drink choices, so tall and broad and yet so gentle in dealing with you. It made a nice change.

You tried to ignore the weight of eyes on you, but as the seconds wore on, you couldn’t resist the pull. You glanced over and met the eyes of his two friends, whose names you never quite caught. You made a mental note to gather the courage to ask, which was a task that seemed daunting before, but now, seeing their faces smiling at you like a pair of goons… And, what was that they were doing?

They pointed to Karube. They pointed to you. They mouthed something. Huh? Your brows tugged together, leaning in as if it might help you understand, your own lips shaping a question. What were they even…?

You picked one to focus on. The messy one. He was grinning too much to communicate well with lip reading, so he pointed once more and mouthed ‘KA-RU-BE!’

You glanced at the blond, his back to the customers. Glasses clinked, bottles poured, he moved expertly. It was surprisingly attractive, how he owned his space. The way he reached for things and stepped in a routine to reach them was almost a dance, almost entrancing… Tearing your gaze back to the pair was like fighting a magnet.

The grinning boys held up a thumb and finger, crossed at the ends. A pair of finger hearts.

The sight brought a rush of blood to your face, instantly flushing you pink. What were they even saying- were they outing you? Or him? What, he liked you? What-?

“Yatta!”

Just at that moment, Karube turned around with a glass half filled with orange juice and ice, another carton in his hand. “Here,” he grinned, opening the carton to pour red liquid over the orange, letting it settle on top into a two-toned drink. “This is what I call… Karube on the beach.”

“Isn’t that just a sex on the beach, Karube?” The untidy one pointed out, humour filling the air once more.

“No, Arisu, it’s a Karube! I changed it from vodka to-”

“If it’s a Karube on the beach, the orange should be at the top!” The shorter one sang aloud, and you couldn’t help the easy laugh that spilled out of you.

Summary: Kuina is more stressed about your chapped lips than the wounds from her death match.

gorgeous kuina. that’s all i have to say for myself. i’m weak. warnings: s2 spoilers, mentions of violence, elements of grief, blood and injury, smoking. a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, maybe a kiss. word count: 1302 requested by: anon (this is the reuniting with kuina/chishiya request. i’ll be writing a chishiya one separately!) written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The sounds of battle rang through the centre. Cries of anguish, the clatter of metal, screams of the dying. Even just listening wasn’t easy.

You sat against the wall of the sports centre’s atrium, knees parted to rest your elbows on. You’d intended to be in the dojo to search for Kuina but… Well, after hearing it, you couldn’t help being glad you’d missed registration.

You were split from your girlfriend on the run from that damn King of Spades, and after so many days of searching for her, you were struggling to resist your harrowing thoughts. That the King was too good, that she was amongst the litter of bodies on Shibuya’s streets.

But, you’d reason, she’s too tough for that. She’d been through too much, fought for too much. Her own struggles, her mothers’, the things society would hold against her... No, Kuina wouldn’t be wiped out by some nameless, faceless entity. She was far too strong. To worry about her like that was an insult.

So, you searched, game after game. Asked survivors if they’d seen a tall, beautiful girl with dreads, a blue bikini-- they’d only ever shook their head, half of them with pity in their eyes. So many people had lost their loved ones to this land, and they saw you as just another of the bunch. 

They didn’t realise how stubborn you were, nor how powerful Kuina could really be. If anyone were to be left standing after all this, it’d be her, a beacon amongst the dust and smoke. Your beautiful Hikari.

Hell, you missed that face. Somewhere in your search, you’d vowed to carry a physical picture of her in your wallet once you got back home together. But until then, you’d have to close your eyes and remember, as you’d done every time the search got hard.

The way her brows would pull together playfully when you teased her, the way her eyes would scrunch and she’d slap your arm or shoulder as she burst into laughter. The way her whole face would light up when you let her dress you at the boutique, and then that smile when you’d buy it all. God, that smile. You needed to see it again.

hi, lovelies!

so, i finally set one up. but i’d like to make clear that this is in no way obligatory!

my writing is free and accessible to all and will stay that way <3

this is simply to open up the possibility of stopping overtime work hours so that i can work on delivering more stories from my fantasy-filled brain to your fantasy-hungry ones.

that said, helping me out does come with a perk: even if requests are closed, you can donate and i’ll get right on whatever you’d like me to work on! whether that’s a specific idea or you just have a preference for character or fandom, as long as it’s one i write for, you can consider it done and dusted.

Summary: A doctor is a lifeline. In the Jack of Hearts game, Chishiya strives to be yours.

yeah, i took the physician reveal and ran with it. i tried to get into his head to portray him as well as i could in writing this and accidentally fell head over heels. let me know if i did him justice? warnings: large helpings of anxiety, chishiya-esque emotional manipulation, though affectionate. mentions of sex, fwb setup, my attempt at sounding medically educated. word count: 2741 requested by: anon (thank you so much for this brilliant idea, i loved getting stuck into it. i don’t write smut, but i hope this still gets you a little riled.) written by: archie support me on ko-fi

It’s human nature to fuck up. He should’ve known to expect it from you.

It was beginning to wear him down, your constant knee bouncing and nail biting since the third hour of this game. All he needed to do was watch. He was wildly curious to see how this would all play out, and he knew he was safe. Knew you were safe.

All things considered, it was a low-risk game: only trust was required, and he’d scored that easily by taking you under his wing. However, The idea of the Jack of Hearts was a poison injected into the bloodstream of the prison’s population. The symptoms of distrust and paranoia would migrate through the ranks, and the masses would spiral and die.

It was a simple game. The key was to not let your protector get infected.

But the symptoms were visibly taking a hold of you. The cafeteria table shook with your anxious tics, the water in your bottle sloshing enough to disrupt his attention on the surrounding cafeteria. He wouldn’t complain though. You weren’t annoying, no, but you could soon put him on edge if he let you spiral like this, and then he’d be infected too.

“Chishiya,” you called softly, clearly nervous to disrupt his spectating.

He didn’t tear his eyes from the scheming girl in the dress. She was particularly interesting in this setting; and by his deductions, not likely to be the Jack. “Hm?”

Your voice came meeker than normal. “What’s my suit again?”

He turned slowly, a brow quirked over a relaxed eye as he finally gave you his attention. “You forgot?”

“No. Just tell me.”

He sighed silently through his nose, calculating your thoughts. To ask this after he’d told you twice already, you must’ve been anxious about one of two things. One, that your addled mind would fool you into speaking the wrong suit. Or two, that you couldn’t trust him.

“Heart,” was all he said.

And you nodded. Your eyes hardened, clearly visualising the shape before your eyes. ‘Heart,’ he could practically see your mind reciting. ‘Heart.’

Or… Was that a calculating look? He flexed his jaw. Were you possibly tallying up the likelihood that he’d lied to you?

How they react when they make you laugh for the first time since arriving in Borderland.

Chishiya, Ann, Kuina and Niragi.

i really really love writing for aib, and i really really want to marry ann. warnings: this is mostly fluff but jealousy and threats are included (would it even be niragi if this wasn’t the case?) requested by: anon (thank you!) written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

Chishiya

Chishiya would be puzzled. Hearing your laugh ring through the Beach’s hallway from beside him when hardly much had happened-- What suddenly brought that out of you? You, who hadn’t so much as smirked once since arriving in the Borderlands?

He wouldn’t stop walking until you’d finally keeled over, resting against the wall in your laughter, and he’d simply stand there and watch you, tempted to give into the smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips. Ah yes, that laugh is contagious, but it’d only properly catch on when he realises it’s his own words that brought it out of you.

Gasping words out through your bursts of laughter, not paying half a mind to the bikini-clad girls that spared you judgemental glances as you try to communicate what exactly of Chishiya’s words tickled you so-- But it’d barely come out clear enough to make sense.

But it wouldn’t matter. He’d finally give into the tickle inside his own chest, the softest laugh of humour bubbling out as he stands there, hands in his pockets and tender eyes on your giggling form. It’s the first time since arriving that he’s seen you like this, and what a sight to behold.

thank you so much for your gazillions of requests, i now have plenty to be getting on with while i procrastinate watching the last episode because i just don’t want it to be over </3

stay tuned for an abundance of niragi (niragi stans,, y’all ok out there? yeah me neither), chishiya and arisu with a little sprinkling of the others!

lots of love!

♠️♥️♣️♦️

hi lovely!

i haven’t actually read the manga, and honestly i don’t think he had enough screen time in the show to establish his character properly </3 however, just for you i’ll try and work on something short and sweet for him!

Imagine finding Niragi after the Beach.

first time writing aib! i haven't written in a while so i was definitely a little rusty, but i'll have more free time from now on so ideally the next ones will be better! warnings: niragi. a drastically unhealthy relationship (of course), niragi slander, burn injuries and gore, guns, problematic grief, mentions of massacre. if you have any triggers i doubt you'd want to even look at this man, apologies. requested by: @nonsocosamett3r3. can't tag, but i hope you see this! for now, aib requests are open! written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The store was quiet, only tainted by the sound of lit gas heating your ramen and the quiet bubbling of the soup.

Your eyes fixed on the flame like it was magnetic. After the horrors of the Beach, something just drew you to it. That little flame…

Amazing.

Amazing how something so small could grow so big that it would engulf the whole resort. The whole community. Your whole future, and who you'd planned to spend it with.

You’d loved Suguru for so long, even before you’d arrived in this world. You’d vowed to love him as long as you were alive, but that was before he’d given into his brewing internal sickness.

It hurt too hard to think it. It utterly carved your heart to think that his only relief from himself might take fire and flames. The only way to be kind to him would be to let him die, and finally, it came. He was better off dead, and yet... you couldn’t help aching for him.

He was the one person you’d come into this with. The one person you knew you could trust. Even when he was at his worst. 

You shook your head. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how he’d protected you from the witch trial. How he’d given you a pistol and told you to hide on the roof. “Wait for me up there,” he’d said, a firm hand on your back to nudge you towards the stairs, his spare pistol pressed into your palms. “Anyone aims at you and they’re dead.”

Even at his worst, his most unhinged, he still took care of you. He was never all ba-

No. Thinking like this would only make it harder. You needed to focus on how he was a murderer, how he was manic, how he embodied all of humanity’s darkest traits. Perhaps then, you could function in this world without him.

A sigh. The cooker’s flame danced before you, and all you could see in your mind was Niragi. How the fire clung to him. How he screamed and thrashed—

You shut the gas off.

No, you couldn’t look at it. The flame.

The spices in the ramen no longer smelled good; they churned your stomach and the burn of suppressed tears sat in your sinuses. Your head dropped into your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes. You wouldn’t cry over him. He was a murderer. A sadistic, psychopathic, narcissistic—

A clatter behind you.

“Auh, phuck.”

Panic pushed you to your feet, your breath hitched. You’d perched in the homewares aisle with your campfire cooker, and wherever that distorted voice came from was barely two aisles back.

It was so dark, you were so tired, and so many people hated you. Not even through any fault of your own. You didn’t choose to love the most hated man at the Beach. You were an easy target and anyone who recognised you surely wouldn’t hesitate, so you grabbed for the pistol from your belt and readied yourself for an assault. You’d not die at the hands of an angry Beach resident tonight.

Slow footsteps took you through the store, startled every time you heard a grunt or a clash. Someone was rummaging through the shelves and audibly struggling.

The smash of a glass bottle on the floor, then a strained voice. “Phuckin ‘ell.”

You neared the corner of the aisle and peered around, pistol held out before you. You only hoped they couldn’t hear the trembling rattle of your hold on it.

What you saw was inconclusive. Someone with a flashlight held in their mouth, pointed at shelves full of medical wares. They struggled with gathering supplies, knocking them over instead and hissing in pain, but you couldn’t gather a single feature.

This was your chance to strike a new alliance. They were clearly wounded and in no fighting condition, so you could easily best them if you needed to, but… Would it really be worth it to make a connection with someone that may surely hold back your chances in a game?

You had half a mind to turn away, leave them to their own struggling devices-

But the choice was taken. A loud groan and the flashlight dropped from the person’s mouth, clattered to the floor, and rolled a few inches.

The stream of light pointed directly to your shoe and lit up the tip of your weapon.

You might’ve expected the person to be startled with the realisation that they weren’t alone, to stumble back or at least gasp. But instead, you were met with an audible sneer.

“Ah. Gonna kill me?”

The end of your pistol still pointed into the darkness, though you could just barely see the silhouette of your target. And oh, you quivered. Your aim was as fractured as your heart, and you’d never held anyone in place with your aim before. It was clear to see.

A familiar snort. “You couldn’t hit me if you tried.”

Your brows tugged together. Your voice had left you entirely, chest heaving with the growing panic at how this tall figure found no sense of danger in you. And yet, that voice was so…

“S-Suguru?”

“Oh?” A beat of silence, and then a soft, sore laugh. “I taught you better than to tremble, baby.”

You almost dropped the pistol. It couldn’t be. You’d seen him fall off the roof shrouded in flame, and it’d been long days. Death was the only escape for him, and he needed it. But here he was, and you couldn’t help but hope it was true.

You dove for that flashlight to check that your wants hadn’t deceived you and scooped it up to point directly at Niragi to take him in in all his… misery.

Your heart broke. The sound of it was a distraught gasp, instant tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Suguru…”

His gorgeous skin was rippled with the fusion of the fire. His hair ragged and burnt, chest and arms crimson, raw and leaking with infectious fluids.

His face scrunched with immediate hatred, his voice a pained hiss as he turned away. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking pity me.”

“I’m not-“

“Don’t.”

Ah, this was your Suguru. Blunt and dismissive, hostile even to you, but you knew how to handle him. You didn’t let him see dizzying wave of relief that drowned you, you held back those tears. Even if he was the most hated man in this realm, he was yours. You weren’t alone in this world anymore.

You took a brief moment to breathe and let your head calm before stepping in close, light shining on his arms. The skin had melted, black patches of fabric stuck into his skin, all the way up to his bare torso. But he didn’t like you looking.

He snatched away the light and the next thing you knew, you were blinded. Your eyes squinted against it, blinking, brows tugged together as you tried to seek out his face once more against the light.

A delicate hand to your cheek, a soft sigh. That was the sound of lazy Sunday mornings with him, the sound he’d always made with his nose buried into your hair.

You let your eyes close, transporting back to simpler times with his touch. His thumb ran so gently across your cheekbone and for the briefest moment you could pretend things were normal, that he was just your boyfriend back in Tokyo. Your beautiful, troubled, bespectacled boyfriend.

If only he didn’t smell of ash and molten flesh, you could have convinced yourself that nothing had changed.

His touch dropped away, the light directed away and your eyelids fluttered open once more. His gaze was so soft on yours. How could this boy with beautiful doe eyes ever hurt another? Perhaps… Just perhaps, he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t deserve this life.

“Let me see,” you murmured, carefully taking the flashlight from his hold. He was like a lost child as he watched you inspect his chest, so gentle as you opened his shirt to see the scarring. You couldn’t help the grimace as you peeled some of the sticky fabric from yellowed, skinless flesh, but he didn’t even wince. He just watched you quietly, intimately.

You met that gaze, and the butterflies in your chest were dizzying. “I’ll dress it for you. Okay?”

i want to write for aib but have no idea where to start or who with, so i’ll be accepting a couple of requests exclusively for aib!

i won’t be posting any spoilers for season 2 for a while so please keep the requests to characters that were in season 1 for now. s2 characters may come later! looking at you, kyuma ♣️

send something in and i’ll love you forever <3

available characters:

arisu, karube and chota

chishiya and gorgeous kuina

anne (owns me)

niragi

i could be convinced of aguni, hatter and usagi

it’s definitely one of my favourite shows and with its return coming soon, i’m considering opening requests for it since i’ll likely have the itch to write about it! (rewatched season 1 and already have that itch oops)

any fans of our arisu and enemies friends?

edit: requests for aib are now open closed! thank you so much for your requests!

Imagine Din Djarin comforting you about your mother.

finally, here we are with a new piece! thanks for your patience, loves! it may be slow going for the holiday period, but bear with us <3 warnings: grief, mother problems, terminal illness and angst. requested by: anon written by: jesse

Din Djarin couldn’t help but notice how you’d been acting as of late. It was as if, one night, someone switched you with an entirely different person—a stranger in his eyes. 

There were days when you wouldn’t speak to him, hide away in your area of the ship or even stay on the ship entirely during jobs. 

The bounty hunter had wondered if he had done something to offend or hurt you in any way. Perhaps he was away too often? Was he neglecting you?

The thought of hurting someone he cared about in any way bothered him. He only had his clan in the past, and now he had formed his own clan with you. 

He flexed his fingers nervously, wondering if that was going to change. 

The Mandalorian made his way to the top of the Razor Crest; you had chosen to stay back on the ship on this mission too, as you had done for a couple of weeks. 

Grogu greeted him at the entrance, cooing and making grabby hands to reach out for his surrogate father. Of course, Din obliged the request and held his place in the crook of his elbow. 

“How was your day, kid? Didn’t get into trouble, did you?” He asked, a hint of a smile behind his helmet. Of course, he wasn’t going to get a response other than babble, but he humoured the little guy. 

Grogu smiled and chewed on the knob that Din had let him have on his first adventure. Din held him a moment before setting him back down, causing the toddler to whine in protest. 

“Sorry, little guy. There’s something I need to take care of.” He assured, going to search for you. He needed to settle this. 

He went for the bunk the two of you shared and spotted you in bed with your back toward him. You were curled up in a fetal position with your knees tucked close to your chin. 

“You awake?” He asked, his tone calm as he sat down on the edge of the bed, but he didn’t receive a response and called your name a bit more firmly this time.

“I am,” you sighed, craning your neck to look at him. “What is it?”

“I think we need to talk.”

You laid your head back against the pillow with your eyes facing the wall. “There isn’t anything to talk about.”

Din pressed a gentle hand on your leg to keep you anchored to his attention. “Don’t. Please don’t shut me out. If there’s something I did-”

You quickly cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The bounty hunter straightened his posture. “You haven’t spoken much about anything. To anyone. This can’t go on, and I know you know it.”

You shot up and stared down the Mandalorian. “You may be good at hunting down people, but your social skills are lacking. Take a hint and leave me alone.”

Din remained quiet as he paused and contemplated his next move. He reached for his helmet and set it aside. 

“Do I make you… unhappy?” He asked in a pleading tone. 

You looked away. “No, of course not.”

The Mandalorian frowned. That wasn’t an assuring response, and he remained quiet.

The tension in the air was static; it was another moment before you sighed and turned back to him. “I… a few weeks ago, I received not-so-great news,” You started wringing your hands together and pursed your lips. “My mother isn’t well and doesn’t have long.”

Din furrowed his brows. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

You shook your head and grabbed his hands. “No, I should be the one to be sorry. I’ve been so hung up on my grief and guilt in delaying seeing her before her time that I’ve been taking it out on you. That’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry, Din.”

The bounty hunter pulled you into an embrace, and you held onto him. Hot, stinging tears peeked from your eyes. “I’m here.” He murmured in your ear. 

You lost it. The emotional dam broke, and you cried, letting out all you’d been holding in flooding out as Din kept you close. He was a man of few words, but even then was able to relieve your anguish.

You cried until your voice became hoarse, and when it finally died, you were still lying in the bounty hunter's arms. "I'm sorry for not telling you what was wrong. I didn't mean to make it seem like it was your fault."

"I understand," Din rubbed your back in reassurance. "Sometimes it's hard to talk about things."

You smiled tiredly and nuzzled into his neck. “I love you, Din.”

“I love you.” The Mandalorian replied with a hint of a smile on his face. 

A small coo came below the two of you and saw Grogu reaching up towards the both of you. You grabbed the toddler and held him between you and Din. 

“Can’t be excluded, huh, pal?” You chuckled. 

Grogu just tilted his head and smiled at you.