just an artist

Thoughts on crowns and what they signify. 

Organized by @dindjarindiaries for December 2024!

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: M, but all my content and my blog are 18+ only

Word count: 384

Tags (All parts): fluff, some angst, developing relationship, mentions of loss of parents, second person POV, no use of y/n, hints of smut if you squint.

Day Twenty-One: Winter

Din leads you out into the snow, towards the quarters he’s already arranged. He can’t justify letting you and his son both freeze in the name of saving a few measly credits. During the day, he can come out here and work on repairing the Razor Crest himself, as he should have done in the first place, and the two of you will be safe and warm in the little cabin.

He can hear you following him in through the snow. Din is relieved that it’s so mild here; he’s considering leaving you at the cabin with provisions while he goes off on his next hunt. It would be safer and far more comfortable for both of them. Of course, he’ll be lonely on his own for a few days, but perhaps that’s for the best. Your voice interrupts his thoughts.

Did you like winter when you were a child? you ask softly, and Din’s step falters for a moment. He pauses, leaving you enough time to catch up and fall into step with him, before shaking his head.

My home was warm, Din explains softly. We had a cold season, but not like this. He glances down at your wool-covered head, bobbing next to him while you keep pace with his steps. He hadn’t realized it, but the dark green colour blends well with the trees surrounding you all.

And now? you ask, and Din laughs softly.

I don’t mind it. But it makes travelling discreetly hard, he jokes lightly, glancing back and gesturing to the conspicuous footprints you’re both leaving in the snow while you giggle.

At least they’ll never know there’s three of us, you tease, and Grogu squawks from inside you hood on cue, earning another awkward laugh from Din.

Good. We’ll take them by surprise.

The inside of the cabin is simple but warm, and that alone makes it feel luxurious. It doesn’t take long to get a fire burning in the hearth, and Din feels his anxiety easing with every second. He watches you move through the one-room space, unpacking supplies and supervising Grogu while he explores, scarf still dangling loosely around your neck. Whenever you glance up at him, Din looks away, returning his focus to his weapons as he prepares to hike back to the Crest.

Organized by @dindjarindiaries for December 2024!

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: M, but all my content and my blog are 18+ only

Word count: 391

Tags (All parts): fluff, some angst, developing relationship, mentions of loss of parents, second person POV, no use of y/n, hints of smut if you squint.

Day Sixteen: Sweater

Keeping track of a small child whose only goal seems to be to cause as much trouble as possible is becoming most of your job on the Mandalorian’s ship. Between keeping one eye on Grogu and one eye on the Razor Crest, you have your hands full most days while the Mandalorian is away.

Now that the temperature started dropping in the evenings, you’ve noticed that Grogu is much clingier than usual. Ordinarily, he’s fairly independent, content to entertain himself while you keep an eye on him, and only reaching for you if he needs something or when he starts to get hungry. But now, in the face of colder weather, he’s practically glued to your side after the sun goes down.

You tried everything. You couldn’t carry Grogu around all evening; there was always too much to do, and both of you would go hungry if you didn’t have your hands free to make dinner. But he wasn’t content to sit on the table or counter in the galley while you cooked; he insisted on being tucked up next to you. You tried swaddling him in a sheet and wrapping him next to your chest, but it didn’t leave him enough freedom to grab at things and entertain himself, so he’d quickly wiggled free.

The solution, in the end, was one that would keep both of you warm. The Mandalorian had an old sweater made from thick wool with a deep hood. You wondered when you found it why he didn’t wear it, even in the colder weather, but assumed that he had forgotten about it since it had been tucked away at the back of a shelf. His loss was your gain. You could wear the sweater, which would keep you warm and your hands-free to work and cook as you needed, and instead of wearing the hood, you would let Grogu rest there.

Now, you’re stirring the soup you’re reheating while the child behind your head squawks and plays with his little silver ball. You can tell by how restless he’s getting that he will likely fall asleep soon, but that’s alright. You’ll let him stay in the hood, nestled in close and snoring softly like he likes to do. It makes you smile because it reminds you of just how much like his father he really is.