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@djaerin
DJA(E)RIN : a private &. selective blog for din djarin from the mandalorian.
I SWEAR ON MY NAME AND THE NAMES OF THE ANCESTORS, THAT I SHALL WALK THE WAY OF THE MAND'ALOR, AND THE WORDS OF THE CREED SHALL BE FOREVER FORGED IN MY HEART. THIS IS THE WAY
: RULES VERSES
multimuse : @downfll
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# STARTER CALL ✨
' don't talk about me like you might know how i feel. '
but he might. to speak about himself is something he does not do, not for a lack of wanting but more from a lack of habit. found by the mandalorians, made to be a warrior, his identity was a thing to be forgotten, his past buried like his face. helmet put on, din djarin was to be forgotten. but he couldn't, a red fabric and a necklace, hidden away, the lines that don't belong to him he tries to find the few times he meets his reflection.
there is something about the man's past, something he's trying to forget too, someone who taught him how to deadly : you always have to leave something important behind, death demands a price for its secrets. ' to become a warrior is to sacrifice, we often sacrifice the same things. ' head slightly tilts, letting the silence rest between them. din is not one to assume nor to make small talk but there were things that seemed to make @readapt less attentive that he used to be. and so he had said something.
there was something that pulled at her heartstrings, the way he seemed eager ... even if he attempted to hide it, gloria seen it, and she was grabbing hold of it. the doctor smiles over that styrofoam cup, tilting her head at him slightly as he speaks further. placing the cup down on the small table between them, too much space between them if you ask her.
doctor hums thoughtfully, tapping her nail off the side of her coffee cup. "only if whatever question i answer, you have to answer to." gloria offers ... though he probably saw it coming. knowing absolutely nothing about him. something she had been rather content with --- din knew more about her than she knew about him. innocent questions were completely fine, right? "my favourite colour is purple." the doctor answers, elbows propped on the table, her chin in her hands. "and on my days off i volunteer at an animal shelter." always lending a helping hand. "alright, your turn... favourite colour and favourite thing to do when you have any down time?"
her smile hits him right in the chest, it makes his heart stumbles a bit, catching his breath before it falls. her hand leaves the cup on the table and he has to hide his own hands before he gives in and goes to grab hers. but that would be TOO MUCH, knows himself, the way touch makes him recoil and he doesn't want that with her, doesn't want to recoil from her touch, never. din is too scared of himself to be brave right at this moment.
a bit of squirming, first thought being fear, fear of the questions she would ask, even more fear of the answers he would have to provide. but there's trust, IN HER, in her care for others, gloria would never ask anything that would make him feel like shit. ' sure. whatever you want to know. ' because what she wants to know would not hurt him, it would not dig deep in his guts to pinch the painful wounds. her answers are registered, tucked away to be useful later. because he knows he'll need those one day. but then the focus is on him and brown eyes look down, clearing his throat. ' dunno, guess i like black. silver too. ' din sees his uniform, it reminds him of his men, his brothers in arm. he remembers the silver necklace of his mother, the silver wedding band on his father's finger. din thinks of those colors and he thinks of his family.
a soft chuckle then, eyes looking up, finding the warmth of hers, ' i mean, it's easy, spending time with the kid. ' and he finds the plump cheeks, the rosy skin and din feels his whole insides turn to marshmallows. ' what would you do if you have a few days off ? ' and he swallows more coffee to add the awkwardness he feels at being so forward.
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'' bet that comes in handy, '' he voices his vague appreciation, sounding somewhat distracted. the mandalorian's famous beskar helmet can't hold his attention for long, not now that it has been thoroughly snagged by the topic at hand. his question has been skirted without a fuss, but han doesn't hold it against him. he crosses his arms over his chest, instead, brows furrowed as he tries to make the gears in his brain turn.
'' i would've guessed jabba if i didn't know better, but that slimy fuck is dead. '' no, this is hardly the work of his usual pick of criminals, or any outraged lowlife he has crossed in some backwater planet. not that some of them — alright, most of them — wouldn't love to orchestrate his demise, but he suspects they would lack the finess to cover their tracks so damn well. han doesn't like the conclusion he is about to draw one bit. though luck, because it makes an awful lot of sense, especially given his latest associations.
'' if you put it this way... some empire nostalgic, probably. former officer? '' he doesn't have such an inflated ego to think he might be on some kind of big shot's hit list, but the people he cares about are another matter entirely. '' you think they might be after information? or some kind of bait? ''
there's not many jedis left for it to be that important, they destroyed each other from within, from what he gathered at least. it is a strange thing, how the powerful crumble from within, taking the weak in their downfall. his parents have been victims of it : the jedis, the empire, the mandalorians. all fighting amongst themselves, a castle of cards and he finds himself in the ruins. born a fisherman's son, raised a warrior, all din can do is fight to survive. it feels like solo would get it somehow, if they were the kind of acquaintances that talked about those things.
the wheels are turning, trying to find who is trying to kill him, who put a bounty on his head. din has his own theories, no names yet but there is something deeper than this. solo is a general, he fought and won against the empire, a bounty on his head is not something that should be regarded as simple. it's comforting to hear his own train of thoughts voiced by the man. ' what about revenge ? from one of those empire enthusiasts ? '
the empire is not extinct, that much is certain. remaining bases on the outer rim, scientists working for the empire, that shit is NOT DONE. ' i think the empire is still alive and kicking and i think you're one of the people they want to use or to kill. dealer's choice. ' with a lack of information, he can only rely on solo to fill the gaps.
THE MANDALORIAN (2.08) CHAPTER 16 THE RESCUE
she’s seen him around town with a kid. he’s only of the few that she has seen, but they have not spoken to each other until now. “ of course. ” she utters a sigh, noticing that her daughter is standing behind her, no doubt holding her barbies and biting on her lip. “ i know where that is. ” she tries to laugh but nothing comes out from her mouth. forcing herself to glance up at him for a brief moment, she steps aside to walk down the hall to find the electric panel, olivia following behind her mother.
“liv, go into the living room and play with barbie. ” she encourages, almost a little impatiently. it’s not the child’s fault that she’s stuck to her hip ⸻ but sometimes, all she wants is a breather to think, and the guilt comes back to her in a way that makes her frown. olivia stands, now nursing her barbie, looking up at the man with a curious look. no such thing existed back there, and she feels even worse for not leaving sooner.
“ would you like a tea cake? ” olivia asks the man out of the blue with a wry smile. “ we have plenty of tea cakes in the living room. ”
“ liv, the man needs to fix our electricity first. ”
man of a few words, molded to obey, taught to keep quiet, there is nothing that leaves his mouth, a nod simply acknowledging her words, awaiting her movements to follow. a glance is given to the child, understanding the need to protect her by sending her away from the strange man in their home. but their eyes meet, lips a bit shaky as he tries to offer a reassuring smile, knowing it is not a habit of him and that it must be a scary sight to behold.
eyebrows slightly go up, the movement hidden beneath the shadow of his cap. lips part, trying to find words to form before her mother speaks. eyes drift to her, finally taking her in, unused to really look at people if they do not feel like a threat. she is pretty, young too, something fragile as if the scars on her soul were lines in her eyes. din doesn't let his eyes linger, turning them back toward the kid, ' nice of you to offer, kid but your mother is right, have to work a bit before having a treat. '
expectant eyes find her again, letting her take the lead here.
someone should tend to din's wound once.
being in the outer rim was supposed to be safe from the politics, safe from people that try to make it a better world, whatever the krif it means. his missions are simple : find a bounty, get the credits, give them to the covert. whatever happens in the rest of the galaxy does not concern. [ still, there was a little boy who lost his parents because of politics ] ' there's always going to be a resistance about something. ' a gun for hire, no question to be asked, it was easier that way.
@salvatoraes 💙 the starter call
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the nightmares should have stopped when she left, but the escape was the only beginning of them. there weren’t many people that she could trust in this town ⸻ she knew that many were whispering of what she had done to protect herself and her child, but her story was untold. only the authorities knew what happened, and she wanted to try and move on with the little faith in herself she had left. she could have left to go anywhere she wanted, but instead, something is broken inside of her that makes her believe she isn’t worthy of happiness.
she wasn’t sure what went wrong in the house when the electricity went off. she danced around the idea of fixing the electrics herself, but didn’t want to cause any harm to herself. rodney was kind enough to let her stay for however long she wanted, so she made sure to upkeep the household tasks whenever olivia didn’t demand for a stroll around town. there were a few strangers that she wanted to avoid, but it was a shame that there weren’t many kids around to keep olivia entertained.
the knock interrupts her thoughts. the paranoia kicks in. she stands on the same spot, fingernails digging into her palm even when olivia informs her that somebody is at the door, but the electricity needs to be fixed. shoulders slouching, she steps forward and opens the door, but she does not directly set her sights on him. “ electricity went off. i would have done it myself … but i can’t figure it out. ” she feels pathetic as she says it. “ come in … ” she is hesitant but she opens the door.
the smile directed at the child hiding behind her mother's legs cannot be helped, a softening of his character that only has gabriel for cause. sensing the hesitation, he's quick to step inside, careful not to brush too close to her, taking a few seconds to wipe the sole of his shoes. good manners are not easily ignored, ingrained in him from his parents, from his foster families : to not disturb, to not soil a thing with his presence.
' hm, i'll need to see the electric panel. ' fingers flex on the tool box, a bit nervous, awaiting. electricity is not exactly his expertise but there should be something to be done, it's rarely hard fixes. eyes remain lowered, reflexes however cannot be helped and his gaze take in his surroundings, looking for a treat. however, there's nothing to be seen but cleanliness, a few toys and something slightly loosens in his back. it feels strange, standing there, feeling like the sooner he's gone, the better. it reminds him of the war and din doesn't want to think anymore.
a child to protect, when duty failed in front of the need to do what is right, when he fled under the cover of the night. din has hidden the child under the warmth of his coat, packed a bag and left a life behind. another life that is not his anymore, a past he cannot know, the child is the present and the future. it was the only choice he had, walking away would have been the death of his very being.
skittish eyes and shaking tilt of a mouth, their paths often cross in the little town, hidden away in the mountains, far from too many knowing eyes. shoulders always sag, trying to make himself as small as possible, knows in her avoiding eyes that it is only a threat she sees in his built. unwilling, a knock comes to her door, knowing that she will refuse to have him inside, distrusting as she seems to be. but he was sent, a jack of all trades that is called all over town to fix and repair.
din doesn't think there is much he can do for her. ' was told about something wrong in your place ? sent there by the owner. ' shoulders hunched, brown eyes hidden by the visor of his cap, slight anxiety twists his stomach, awaiting for her words.
@g0dwill 💙 the starter call
there is a slight limp to his leg, a tightening in his lower back with a gloved hand pressed to his side. the razor crest open, boots heavy on the ramp as he goes up, other hand pulling on the string that drags the body of his bounty. kriffing idiot gave him a rough time, din had been distracted, his injuries are his own fault. a groan leaves his lips as he hoists the body up, throwing him into carbonite. relief lets his muscles relax, adrenaline leaking out of him with his blood, the pain growing.
helmet turns as a sound is heard, eyes catching the softness of her features. ' should stay up in the cockpit. ' din does not need a witness to his failures.
@alootus 💙 the starter call
# STARTER CALL ✨
here's the thing: bravado is easier to maintain when you're young. han's seen too much shit from the universe to able to summon his old charming grin and careless attitude with ease. and he's got a family he would like to see again, friends he cares for. but of course he says exactly none of this to the mandalorian, their connection still too new and far too fragile.
'' you sound like one of those weird robed mind readers now. '' he scoffs, but he does try to relax his posture and still his hands, almost entirely convinced that no dangers will spring out at him from the dark corners of the dimly lit cantina. it's not bad at all, considering his track record.
i think you'll be next. instead of tensing in alarm, han sighs, pressing his fingers at the bridge of his nose. someone being after him is old news, an unwelcome constant in his life. '' oh i'd tell ya, but it could be the trandoshan over there for all i know. i'm not exactly short on enemies. '' it might not be a satisfying answer, but it's nonetheless true. besides, there is a much more burning question racing through han's mind: '' would you do it? be honest, i won't judge. ''
crooked smirk answers the scoffed answer, head slightly tilting : he wouldn't like to be one of those robed mind readers. thoughts stray to the kid, a jedi, one of those robed people, but that's not a train of thoughts he likes to entertain when he is not safe. it is swallowed, that thought, that pain all wrapped in grief. the helmet is there to preserve his emotions, his shaking heart, it is a blessing today.
' i'm not. beskar prevents that kind of bankta shit. ' the jedi told him, that beskar was precious to mandalorians because it prevented their enemies to see their mind, to control it. din has never been so glad for the helmet that has been his since he became part of death watch. whatever is told about them, they are the ones who took him on the worst day of his life,THEY EARNED HIS LOYALTY that day.
question is ignored, unwilling to unveil his existing soul and empathetic heart, to show the scraps of loyalty he holds for the man. ' with the kind of credits they offer, i doubt it's someone willing to dirty their hands. ' no, it has to be someone big, wishing to stay hidden, to not be known as the client. someone like that must be known by solo, there's no doubt in his mind.
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din djarin : it's hard to focus when you're sitting so close.
she doesn't mean it. not really. he's warm, and it's cold, and perhaps she's a little intrigued by what he was doing. gloria hadn't noticed that her body was moving closer and closer, gravitating towards @djaerin like it was the most natural thing in the world. the doctor hums softly as his words reach her ears, letting them register for a second before her lips form a soft realising circle. " sorry, i didn't ... " woman shakes her head, a sheepish laugh falling from parted lips as she starts to shift away from him.
it's embarrassing, how the warmth of her at his back, a hair away, makes his skin warm and his brain stutters. still, that doesn't mean he wants her to pull away, craving her proximity, wishing for her touch. ' not complaining. ' it's all he can muster, as he feels her shift away, knuckles white on the screwdriver, willing himself not to reach for her, to keep her right there. ' can uh, can stay on my side, if you want to. ' trying to act like he is actually doing something, brown eyes remain on the back of her dishwasher.
i'm still here, loving din 💙
