Din Djarin/Mando/The Mandalorian: One Shots, Imagines, etc.

Smile

A/N: requested by sadstrarwarsfan14 - this is platonic din x daughter btw

Warnings: angsty, depression (i'm sorry if i got some of the symptoms wrong), self hate, swearing, this is a short one,

Transalations: adi'ka = little one, buir = father/mother

Word count: 835 (writer's block has been hitting hard lately, i'm sorry about that)

You desperately hold back the tears filling your eyes as you slump in your chair, hunched over a little so your father can't quite see that your lower lip is wobbling ever so slightly as you struggle to keep yourself from crying. Why can't you enjoy anything any more? Why does it all have to be so dull and boring? Why does everything make you feel so fucking worthless?

You know that you should be acting happy right now. Your father had gone to the trouble of taking a break from his bounty hunting to take you on holiday for a while; he'd even gone to the market this morning to get your favourite food, and all you can be is miserable. You can't even bear the thought of pretending to be happy: your face hurts from forced smiles, you hate lying to him, and all you want to do is curl up in the corner and cry about something you can't quite put your finger on.

'Are you okay, ad'ika?'

His fingers brush against your shoulder, and you lean a little away from his touch, irrationally worried that he'll sense your misery somehow. The last thing you want is for him to see you're sad; he'll think it's his fault, and that is something that neither of you need. Forcing the corners of your lips up, you drag your eyes up to meet his black T - shaped visor.

'Yeah, buir, I'm good.'
He cocks his head. 'Sure?'
You nod listlessly. 'Mhm.'

He reaches up and lifts off his helmet, his worried brown eyes searching yours, and that's the moment that you know he won't let it go. He's constantly tuned into your emotions, always concerned that if you're unhappy it's because he's a bad father. In truth, you love him dearly, ever since the moment he shot the Imperial droid trying to kill you straight through the head and gathered you in his arms, murmuring that it was alright, that he's got you now, that they were gone.

Glancing down at your plate, he sees your food, poked at with your fork and shoved into swirls like star constellations by your spoon, but none eaten. Frowning, he looks down at it, fingers drumming once on the table. He glances up at you.

'You still like this, don't you?'
You nod again. 'Mhm.'
'Then what's wrong?'
You smack the table. 'Nothing's wrong, buir!'

Your mouth snaps shut. By bursting out like that, shattering the silence with words which say one thing but mean the exact opposite, you've given yourself away. Sniffling, the backs of your eyes prickling with tears, you drop your head in your hands and stifle a sob. You can almost hear the way he berates himself inside for letting this happen again.

His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. 'Depression?'
'No!' You snap. 'No, buir, it's not!'
'Then what is it, ad'ika?'

You can't think of anything. You can't fucking think of anything that it could be. You know he's right, you know you've relapsed, but you're clinging desperately onto the hope that if you deny it, maybe he won't blame himself for it. Clenching your fists, you stop your streaming eyes by pure willpower, drying your cheeks and looking defiantly up at him. You expect worry in his gaze, expect concern, but all there is is deep, burning compassion, and the sobs start coming again.

'I'm not okay,' you whisper. 'I'm sorry, buir. It's not your fault. It's never been your fault. I'm just... I'm just hopeless. Worthless.'
He gets up and scoops you up into his arms. 'No.' he replies, voice strong and insistent. 'You aren't hopeless, you aren't worthless. You're my daughter, my sweet, sweet daughter, and nothing will change that I love you, ad'ika.'

He squeezes you to his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead and rocking you, letting you lean your head against his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall again, and this time, they feel good, they feel like they're freeing you, not imprisoning you. A sob starts deep in your throat, and you let it wrack your body, arms locked around your father's neck as he murmurs comforting words to you in Mando'a, his voice soft and gentle in your ears, telling you you're strong, you're resiliant, you'll get through this.

Telling you that you matter, whatever people say about you, whatever they think about you, whatever they call you.

Telling your that you're not worthless, that you are the thing that keeps his galaxy from collapsing.

Telling that he loves you, no matter what.

You let out a shuddering sigh, wiping your tears away with your sleeve, and look up at him. His lips quirk up just a little as he meets your gaze, one hand carefully smoothing your hair back. Grabbing your hand, he squeezes your fingers, his brown eyes sparkling.

And then, like the sun breaking through grey clouds, a bright, confident grin blazes across your face.