rokuhoku

i think i like way too many god-like characters

704 posts

Can We Get Prompt 5 With Din ?

Can we get prompt 5 with Din 👀👀?

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me…it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.” + Din Djarin

a/n: ta da! my first mandalorian fic thank you for requesting! this one got away from me a little bit.

"Go ahead and toss over the credits and we'll let you go," the twi'lek says, waving a vibroblade under your nose. "You don't need to get hurt, sweetheart."

You scoff. "Right, and then you'll just let me walk away?"

"That's right," his partner says. "Unless you wanna be difficult about it."

You did not want to be difficult about it but -

"Y'know, can't you find some rich asshole to rob? I barely have anything as it it. This is like the poor stealing from the poor." They glance at each other, brows raised.

You consider your options for a moment. Only one of them seemed to have a weapon, and neither seemed to have a blaster.

If you were quick enough, you could probably wrestle the blade from the twi'lek and use it against both of them to negotiate your release from this particular alleyway.

"C'mon now, we know you're buddies with that Mando that's always hovering around these days, and he's covered in beskar. There's no way you're lacking for credits. You probably get a cut of all those bounties."

You furrow your brow, "Are you stupid?"

The Mandalorian was not your friend. He tolerated you at best, considered you an okay contact at worst, when he was looking for work, or information.

Mainly, he sought you out because you heard everyone's business as the barkeep at the cantina.

But apparently your insolence and calm at being robbed has run its course of charm. The twi'lek steps forward, blade to your throat. "Either you hand it over, or we take it from you."

You open your mouth not sure what your retort would be and half expecting it to get you killed, when a voice rings out. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The modulated voice is a balm you don't expect, and both your captors glance over, towards the mouth of the alley. "This doesn't concern you, Mando," the partner spits.

The Mandalorian's helmet simply tilts to the side. "It does."

His tone is hard, brooking no room for disagreement, when you swing your knee up into the twi's gut and twist the blade from his grasp in the same movement.

You slash at the partner, and think you nick his arm. Both flee down the alley away from the Mandalorian, who stands still, hand on the blaster still in its holster.

When they're gone, he approaches you slowly. "Are you okay?" If you didn't know better, you'd say he actually sounds worried.

"Fine," you kneel to stick your new blade in your boot. "I had it handled. Why are you here anyways?" You brush past him, back into the street.

To your surprise, he follows.

The question was meant to be rhetorical. "I saw them follow you when you left the cantina."

"So you followed me."

"Didn't look like you realized."

You shrug and keep walking, "I just guess I didn't realize you cared."

The Mandalorian pauses, stopping in his tracks, and when you turn to look at him, his head is at an angle. Like he's considering you and found you both wanting and strange.

You kick out your hip and tilt your head right back, crossing your arms over your chest.

It takes a long time for him to respond.

"You should be more careful," he says simply. "You need a better weapon."

"I don't have the credits for a better weapon. Lucky for me though I have a blade now." You turn and keep walking. "Don't worry, your contact is unharmed."

His footfalls are heavy as he follows you. "Is that why you think I followed you?"

You aren't sure what he expected you to think, what you're supposed to think. "I mean...I know we work together. But sometimes I wonder if you even like me…it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”

There've been numerous occasions, particularly in the beginning, when he didn't even speak to you, tossed credits onto the counter and said a single name. Then, he disappeared.

He's progressively gotten less gruff but you still don't get the sense that he likes you all that much, no matter how much time he's been spending on your world and in the cantina lately. He'd even gone so far as to order a drink recently, even though it always went untouched.

You were a means to an end, really. You know that. "I could go to anyone for information," he says gruffly. "But I come to you."

You pause and turn and this time the Mandalorian only stops when he's close to you, and you have to tilt your chin up to meet the gaze hidden behind the visor. "Oh."

"You need more than a blade."

"I'll get right on that," you shake your head, heavy on the sarcasm. He doesn't react, standing still, the cloak over his shoulder fluttering in the warm breeze. You aren't sure why he's never intimidated you, by all accounts he should terrify you. An armored, faceless man, that dealt in bad people and weapons.

But he's never frightened you, he's never really given you cause to.

And you seem to lack the self preservation instinct instilled in most people anyways. Arguing with people trying to mug you was only one example of that.

"Thanks for stepping in back there," you continue, this time without the sarcasm. "Could have been bad."

He merely nods at you.

When you start walking again, he follows, this time keeping pace with you and staying by your side. "You really only come to me?" You ask, glancing sidelong at him. He doesn't answer, but you take the silence for agreement. "Maybe I should get a cut."

Mando huffs under the helmet, and you think it must be a laugh.

He walks you all the way home, even though you know he should already be off world. "'Night, Mando."

Again, he doesn't answer, but he doesn't walk away until the door is closed behind you either.

The next time you see him, he places a wrapped parcel on the counter by way of a greeting. You raise a brow and unwrap it to find a blaster. "Who's is this? You looking for the owner or something?" You ask, tossing the towel in your hand over you shoulder.

"It's yours," he answers. "Do you know how to use one?"

"Mine?" You look up into the shining helm. "You're sure?" The lip of the helmet dips down in confirmation. "No, I don't know how."

"I'll teach you," he says, and you know he's not asking. "Do you still have the vibroblade?"

"Yes."

He nods. "Good," he sounds pleased. "I'll teach you how to use that, too."

With that, he departs, curious eyes of the patrons following him, drawing the attention he always does.

"Well," the owner says, tugging the cloth off your shoulder and placing it back in your hands. "Aren't you special?"

"What are you on about?" You ask, scooping up the blaster and rewrapping it before stuffing it in the front pocket of your apron.

He chuckles, leaning around you as you start polishing a glass. "Haven't you heard the stories? Mandos only give weapons to people they court."

You only roll your eyes, fairly sure that's just another legend.