#autistic grogu

[25centsoda]

DinLuke Fic in honor of AO3 Down

Chapter 1 of my five-chapter wip (currently getting my ass kicked by chapter 3) to feed the starving masses on this terrible day of AO3 Down. Fic and summary subject to change by the time I finish, edit, and finally post it. Fair warning this chap is 9 pages on my google doc.

Summary: After rescuing Grogu, Din retired to a quiet life as a lighthouse keeper with his son. Unfortunately, his life is determined to be anything but quiet.

Tags: Mermaid au, DinLuke, Din Djarin, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, Cara Dune, Moff Gideon, Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine, Little Mermaid-ish, fantasy au, modern au, AAC, autistic Grogu, nonspeaking Grogu, Din was a hitman

EDIT: AUGH apparently AO3 came back up while I was posting. Was supposed to be down for 3 more hours...smh. Anyways, enjoy ig!

There was a merman lying on the rocky beach, above the tidal line, not twenty feet away.

Din rubbed his eyes. Blinked. The merman was still there.

He turned around.

Turned back.

Still there.

His gaze drifted up to the clouds as he thought, mind churning like stormy waves. Had he had breakfast that morning? Or water? Dehydration did things to the brain, right? Maybe the kid had kept him up too late and he was dreaming…

A rock landed very near his foot. He looked down.

The merman was waving to him. Propped up on one pale arm, with blue…gills? Fins? Waving merrily just behind his ears. There were more fins along the back of each arm. He was smiling and mouthing something, but no sound was coming out.

Din better not be hallucinating.

He picked his way across the rocks and stopped in front of the…fish. Man. Gods above, there were scales on this man’s bare stomach, and just below his belly button the skin faded entirely into blue scales, and his lower half was…

The merman flapped his tail, silently laughing. It slapped the ground with a wet sound.

Din could only stare.

The merman waved his hand, bringing Din’s attention back to his face, which was unfairly beautiful, a fact that Din elected to ignore. He began signing animatedly and mouthing something, but it wasn’t any sign language Din knew, and he’d never been great at reading lips.

Din shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

The merman stopped signing with a huff. He bit his lip, looking around. There wasn’t much to see. This beach was isolated—that’s why Din had chosen it. There was nothing around except for chunks of pale rocks in varying sizes, the water, and, distantly, grassy dunes. And the lighthouse Din was paid to keep.

“Hold on,” Din said. He got several steps away before another thrown rock reminded him to say, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something that will help.”

It was a long walk back to the lighthouse, but it was a walk he made every other day, to ensure that nothing weird or dangerous had washed up. And it was a good thing, too, because evidently something had washed up. Or…someone? Din wasn’t really sure how to refer to a literal merman. He still wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing.

Grogu was waiting at the door for him, one little hand holding the doorframe as he leaned out of it, waving his device. “Ba!” he shouted. His black hair fell into his face—Din needed to cut it soon—as he looked down to make selections. As Din neared, the device read out, “Dad where go? Why back soon?”

Din tousled his son’s hair. “Just came back to grab something real quick, buddy. I’ve gotta go out again.”

Grogu tilted his head in question.

Din passed him, entering the kitchen. “I don’t know what I’ve found. Somebody that needs help, I think.”

.

.

.

Din made his way back to the beach. The merman was still there. Din wished he had thought to grab himself a bottle of water, or a snack or something, but the fact that the man was still there boded well for Din’s mental faculties, if not for the logic of the universe.

“Can you read English? D’you even know English? Do you know what I’m saying?”

Din felt stupid, talking to some hallucination-man-fish-thing, but the man nodded, so Din took that as a yes.

“Okay. Uh, well I have this.” He held out the communication board that he had brought. It was laminated—they all were, so that they would last longer—so it wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that the man reaching out a hand to take it was still dripping wet. Din had grabbed the hospital board rather than any of the core boards or fringe vocabularies, thinking that it would be the most useful. It wasn’t like Grogu already had a single-page board for mermaid trapped on the beach, and Din figured that the man was likely to be injured or hurting in some way, being so far up on the rocks. “Point to whatever you want to say.”

The merman examined the green board with interest, front and back. He seemed to read every icon carefully. The back had the alphabet and “YES”/”NO” along the bottom, a section labeled “I WANT”, a section labeled “I AM”, “I WANT TO SEE”, and a section containing icons for yes, no, thank you, stop, pen/paper. The front had pictures of a blank, uncolored body showing the front and back view with a pain scale in the middle, and icons describing different types of pain like itches, stings, can’t move. Along the sides of the front were requests for items, bathroom, and like that, don’t like, repeat that, speak louder.

After a while, Din said, “Well? Are you, uh, injured, or anything?”

The man scanned the board again, and finally pointed to the image of a glass labeled Water. As he did so, Din noticed that his fingers were webbed halfway together, with shimmering blue, nearly-transparent webbing. He looked up at Din.

“Right. Right.” Din found himself swinging his arms as he looked around the beach. He forced himself to stop. “I can. Uh.” How heavy could a fish-man be? Probably very heavy. Still—“I can bring you back to the ocean?”

The merman shook his head vehemently, eyes wide. Din noticed for the first time that they were blue, like the man’s fins. The man pointed to the red icon labeled NO over and over.

Din held up a placating hand. “Okay, okay. No ocean. Got it.” He didn’t understand in the slightest, but the message was clear. “What if I bring up a bucket?”

The man nodded.

Din…didn’t have a bucket on him. Luckily, there was a storage shed not too far from here—there was a dock about half a mile back. Once he had a bucket and filled it with water, he hesitated.

“Do you want me to just—” Din made a motion like he was going to throw the water on him.

The man gestured for the bucket. Din handed it over. The man dipped his hand in and splashed the water on the fins sticking out of his head.

Huh. Maybe those were his gills, or…something. Din didn’t exactly know that much about fish biology. Mostly what he knew about was killing. And, slowly, how to care for a nonspeaking toddler.

“Are you lost? Are you, uh, hungry?”

The man pointed to Thank you. 

Din was suddenly seized with the urge to know—”What’s your name? If—if you can spell it.” If a merman knew English, he could spell his name in English, right? Or would it be all clicks and whistles, like a dolphin?

He watched as the man spelled L—U—K—E.

“Luke.”

A nod and a smile.

“Luke,” Din said again, and wasn’t it enough that the man had an unfairly attractive face and, if he was already admitting things to himself anyway, body? Did he have to have a name that moved in Din’s mouth like that?

N—A—M—E—?

“What?”

Luke spelled it out again.

“Oh, my name.” Gods, Din was an idiot. “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Din. Luke mouthed the name, smiling. Din felt like he was going to combust.

“Uh, if you’re not going to go back in the ocean…” Din paused again. Luke shook his head wildly, almost unbalancing himself. Din forged on. “...would you like to come to my house? I have a bathtub I can fill with salt water for you; it’s probably more comfortable than these rocks.”

Luke pointed to Yes.

“Okay, great.”

It was quite the job getting Luke to his house. He’d thought he was pretty strong, but they had to take several breaks for Din to catch his breath. The merman was slimy in his arms, his scales rough. Luke held on to the (emptied) bucket and the hospital communication board. By the time they got back to the house, the sun was beginning to set, Din’s arms and shirt were rubbed raw, and Grogu was angry—at least, he was until he saw what Din had in his arms.

Grogu squealed. His device read out, “Mermaid! Mermaid! Mermaid!” He did a little dance, flapping his arms and twirling excitedly in the doorway.

“Move, kid,” Din grit out, muscles shaking. Luke waved from his arms.

Grogu got out of the way and Din made it all the way into the bathroom before he had to set Luke down again lest he drop him. Luke shivered on the cold tile. Din had to reach over him to turn on the tap. Grogu waited in the doorway, watching.

“Oh—sorry, do you need salt water?”

Luke pointed to Yes, his hands shaking. His golden-blond hair was drying now, into thick waves around his gills. Some of the blue spots on his skin were turning colorless, as well, which probably wasn’t great.

“Kid, stay with him a minute, I’m gonna get salt water.” Din pulled the drain open and stood, shaking off the water.

More buckets. More trips back and forth to the shore. It took more than Din had thought to fill up the bathtub. Luke splashed himself every so often as he waited. Grogu had brought in the whole folder of laminated communication boards, and pulled down the laminated booklet on a hook from the bathtub, and he and Luke were engaged in a vibrant conversation that meant that Din had to watch where he stepped lest he slip.

Finally, the tub was full, and Din hauled Luke up one last time, and into the water. Luke slapped his tail excitedly, splashing water everywhere. Grogu squealed, raising his little hands up to the sky. Din was entranced by the water shining off Luke’s blue scales, the almost translucent…skin?...on the bottom fin, the rigid, darker blue spines that held it together.

An alarm shook Din out of his thoughts.

He stood. “I’ve got to make dinner and get everything set up for the night. Are you two good here?”

Luke held up a beach vocabulary board and pointed to Yes. Grogu squealed again, nodding vigorously.

“Try not to make too much of a mess,” Din said. He put two towels on the floor in front of the tub, which soaked up some of the water. He held back a sigh. Fighting mold was a constant battle, in a building so close to the ocean. Hopefully any mold-related damages wouldn’t get taken out of his paycheck, even if they were in the bathroom and therefore probably his fault.

Attending to his regular duties kept Din’s mind off the merman in his bathroom for a while. He stood outside long enough to get a sense of the weather, and reported it on the radio, then listened to the airwaves for a while to see if there were any nearby boaters that needed rescuing—an über-rare occurrence, on this island. He briefly entertained the idea of radioing in his “rescue” of Luke, but what would he say? “I found a merman”? Saying that would be a one-way ticket to a psych eval if not a hospital stay - in other words, losing this safe haven where he and his son lived. Besides, without the merman in front of him, the whole thing felt like a dream. A dream that left raw skin on his chest and arms. A dream he wouldn’t breathe a word about.

He walked around the perimeter of the lighthouse and the station house, noting down any damages that would need repair or repainting soon. Took inventory of foodstuffs—they were starting to run low, but a supply was due in a week, and they had the garden, as long as a storm didn’t take it out. Tended the garden—ripped out some kudzu that kept somehow finding its way onto this isolated island, squirted bugs off the rosemary with one of Grogu’s little water guns. Checked on the water filters, generators, and radio antenna. Luckily everything was in decent order in spite of a day of neglect.

The sun was well and truly set by the time that Din went back inside the station house and started making dinner—chicken fingers, Grogu’s favorite. After some hesitation, he threw some frozen fish sticks on the baking tray as well. Maybe Luke would eat them. Din hadn’t gone fishing in a few weeks; Grogu had had him working their way through a craft book Cara had brought them at the last supply drop, which didn’t leave a lot of time for much beyond his daily duties, time consuming as they were. If Luke wanted fresh fish, Din could go fishing tomorrow.

He stacked up three plates on his arms and brought them into the bathroom. Not a large bathroom to begin with, it was a crowded space between the adult, the kid, and the mermaid. Setting his own on the white marbled sink countertop, he handed a plate of chicken fingers and broccoli to Grogu and a plate of fish sticks to Luke.

“It’s fish,” he explained. “With breadcrumbs.” At Luke’s blank look, Din hastily explained, “Bread is, uh, it comes from grain, wheat, and so it’s kind of…like…well, it’s a carbohydrate. I dunno if you have those in…the ocean. Try it, and tell me if you can eat it, or if you need something else.” He sorted through Grogu’s communication boards scattered on the tile floor, and found one with ocean creatures, which he set on the rim of the bathtub.

Grogu turned his nose up at the broccoli with a huff.

“Come on, kid, you’ve gotta have vegetables.” Din was too tired to really argue the point tonight, but Grogu didn’t need to know that.

Luke reached one dripping hand out of the tub and pointed to the broccoli on Grogu’s plate, with an encouraging sort of Go on expression, nodding. The broccoli got a little damp at the touch of his pale finger. Din grimaced, sure that the salt water would ruin whatever little chance there was of getting the kid to eat his vegetables.

Grogu surprised him by digging in.

Din blinked.

Alright then. He’d keep slightly soggy in mind, on his list of ‘things that get Grogu to eat.’ Kids were mysterious creatures sometimes.

Din ate his own plate of chicken fingers and broccoli sitting on the closed toilet seat, watching the two of them interact. It was, of course, mostly silent, occasionally interspersed with one of Grogu’s noises like “ba!” Luke picked at his fishsticks (after scraping off the breading), Grogu picked at his chicken fingers. Their hands were pretty occupied with the boards. At this angle, he couldn’t see all that they pointed to, but he saw the fairytale board, ocean, and mythology. And home.

.

.

.

After they finished eating, Din cleared the plates, and let Grogu and Luke talk for another hour while he cleaned up and checked the weather again.

“Alright kid, bedtime.”

“Ba!” Grogu said angrily, his little face scrunched up. Din’s heart melted in spite of himself. 

“No, come on, it’s time for bed.”

Luke waved his hand for Grogu’s attention. Once he had it, he exaggeratedly stretched and yawned, then put his hands together and leaned his head against them, breathing big in, and out. If he was underwater, Din was sure that there would be enormous bubbles coming out of his mouth, adding to the effect.

Grogu giggled. Luke peeked with one eye and smiled, then went right back to it.

Din gathered up all the communication boards and knocked them up on the counter, making them into a neat stack. He grabbed Grogu’s hand.

“Come on, I’ll sing to you.”

Luke broke out of his acting and waved goodbye, flapping his hand.

“I’ll check on you before I go to bed,” Din promised over his shoulder. He left the door open a crack, so that Luke could hear them move around and know that he hadn’t been left in the house alone.

Luckily Grogu’s room had a bathroom attached to it, so he could still have a quick bath—the salt water he and Luke had been splashing in all evening didn’t count—and brush his teeth before bed. Din brushed his teeth beside Grogu, glad for once that he still kept his toothbrush on his nightstand instead of in the main bathroom, an old habit from more chaotic days.

Finally, Din got Grogu clean, dry, in pajamas, and tucked into bed with his favorite frog plushie.

Din knelt beside his bed with a groan, cursing old injuries and unstretched muscles. “Alright, kid, what do you want me to sing?”

Grogu made grabby hands for his device. Din pulled it off the charger and handed it over. Grogu navigated through the pages swiftly, before finally selecting, “Sun.”

“Alright.” Din cleared his throat, and began to sing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me hap-py, when skies are gray.”

Grogu snuggled down in his blankets, clutching his favorite Froggie close to his chest, watching Din with absolute love and trust in his eyes. It made Din’s heart clench. Stars, he loved this kid. He would move heaven and earth for him. He had, when he’d rescued him. Although really, it was Din that had been rescued that day.

He reached a hand out and caressed the soft brown hair atop Grogu’s head. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take, my sun-shine a-way.” He kissed his son’s forehead. “You all ready for sleep, big guy?”

Grogu squealed softly.

“Alright.” Din pressed his forehead to Grogu’s one last time as he took his device and set it on the bedside table, and turned out the light. “If you need anything, just yell.”

He closed the door softly, leaving just a crack to let light through.

Luke was waiting in the bathroom, arms folded on the rim of the bathtub, his head resting on top. He perked up when Din came in, but not much.

“How’s your, uh, oxygen?”

Luke gave a thumbs up.

“Tired?”

Luke nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” His muscles were certainly sore from lugging all that water and the merperson. He needed to work out more, probably. As busy as this job kept him, it didn’t maintain his physical fitness the way he used to. He’d let himself get…soft, as Grogu’s dad.

“You good for the night? Need any fresh water?”

Luke shook his head. Thankfully. Din didn’t particularly want to go out in the pitch dark. It would be hard to hold a flashlight and a full bucket at the same time.

“Can you write?” At Luke’s nod, Din took out a weather resistant notepad and pen and set them on the rim of the bathtub beside Luke’s head. “We’re expecting a supply run in a day or so. If you need anything, or want anything, I can radio shore and have it delivered then.”

The merman perked up. Thank you!!! he wrote, with three exclamation marks. Din huffed a laugh.

Luke wrote, head bowed, for a while. Din watched his golden hair, long dried except around his…gills, bounce softly, reflecting the overhead light. It was mesmerizing, like watching light bounce off of water.

When Luke held up the notepad again, Din had to shake himself a little to refocus.

Salmon

Oysters

Something soft to lay on the side

Something I can help you with, as payment for taking me in

Din blinked. “I don’t need you to help me with anything.”

Luke’s gaze was pleading. No: Begging.

Din shook his head. “Really. Most of my job you can’t help me with anyway; unless you can repaint the lighthouse or pull weeds.”

Luke frowned, his lip stuck out. Din couldn’t help having a little thrill at the sight. It was adorable.

“Really! I guess I could…” He really thought about it. He supposed…that the counter could use a little basket for his keys. One of Grogu’s favorites from the craft book was basket-weaving. He could show Luke how to do it, and thus keep them both occupied, and Luke could feel useful. “Do you know how to weave baskets?”

Luke nodded eagerly.

“I’ll collect some materials for you from the wildflower garden tomorrow. Grogu can help.” Din broke off with a yawn. “I’ll tell our supplier to get the rest of it. Sleep well.”

Luke pointed at Din and mimed sleeping, with his head on his hands, then nodded as if to say You too.

Din smiled and turned to go. He paused in the doorway with his hand on the light switch.

“On or off?”

Luke tilted his head, brow furrowed. To demonstrate, Din flicked the lights off, then back on. Then again, saying out loud which was which.

“Thumbs up, on. Thumbs down, off.” He showed how to do it as he spoke. Luke gave a thumbs down. “Lights off it is,” he said, turning them off. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

He left the door cracked open again and made his way up the stairs, stifling a yawn.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the bathroom was empty in the morning. Weirder things had happened.

Although, if he was honest with himself—no, weirder things hadn’t happened. Sure, he’d had some odd jobs in his old life, but none of it had involved the supernatural. No, it was all kingpins and businessmen and whistleblowers, hackers, grifters, thieves, and the occasional unopened suitcase. Once, on his last job, a child. Never a merman.

Well, this made two that he’d kept instead of killed. Two that he’d saved.

He’d definitely gone soft.

But he found…he didn't mind it.

[technicolor-143]

Au where Din is a lawless cowboy going around like Arthur Morgan collecting bounties with his lil autistic son Grogu. But then one day meets a farmer by the name of Luke Skywalker and stays with him and his aunt and uncle for a while. And so they spend time together and fall in love, but Din has to leave bc of cowboy outlaw stuff and when he comes back, the farm is burned down and Beru and Owen are dead but the body of the love of his life is nowhere to be found. So he buries Owen and Beru and has to keep on living without Luke while taking care of his son. This is all happening without him knowing that Luke is alive and with some rebels(??). And then stuff happens, they meet and happy ending happens.

[omgspacecowboys]

"Din Djarin is autistic" "Grogu is autistic", actually they both are, they're both autistic

[thefrogdalorian]

Din Djarin + Text Posts (3/?)

[chromocreations]

A watercolour painting I did of a Mandalorian helmet

This is the way

[toucandrawz]

So,,, I painted a ps5 controller!

I have quite a few little siblings, so my oldest little sister (11) asked me to paint her ps5 controller! And, I did! She wanted me to paint Star Wars stuff on it, so that’s what I did. Honestly, I think I might make a Grogu watercolor painting after this, because even if I’m not that interested in it, he’s so cute and it would be a really fun try to get it to look nice.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Grogu repeatedly having IG say "yes" as they walked through the city and Din sighing but resigning himself to it as he realises his nonverbal kid is autistic just like him

[kazandautism]

Change is hard for Kaz. All change even good change.

Been wanting to change room because Kaz spends most of time there. Want room to feel like Kaz not like parents. But easily get overwhelmed and room needs to stay safe.

Came up with plan with mother and therapist last week. Going to add 1 item at time, then wait until item become part of room in brain.

Want to make series of room changes to document. Going to tag with #kaz’sroom.

Kaz started with paint by number Kaz made of Grogu (Baby Yoda).

[meatyliver]

hyperfixations went from starwars (anakin skywalker) to dc (batfam) to starwars (grogu/mando) again to mental disorders (and the possible ones i may have I DO NOT CONDONE SELF DIAGNOSIS) to gravity falls (trans dipper) to me maybe being a different gender (trans meaty liver) to community (ABED) like one gay hamster wheel of interests

[darlin-djarin]

Neurodivergent Din Djarin, please tell me more 🙏

- @djarinblog

i hc him as autistic, and so do most of my mutuals. so many of my autistic mutuals relate to him in so many ways and it only feels natural to hc him that way. the way he acts and thinks, if you really study him, you can get it almost immediately. also his son is autism creechur.

[galaxyweighted]

I’m thinking of maybe writing a fic with human autistic Grogu helping Luke realize he’s autistic.. would anyone want to see this ?? I am autistic and I would love to write this, but I just wanna know if anyone would be interested !!

[jbeddallart]

“Din Grogu”

He can finally bring the space frogs to him!

[merlin-is-pretty-bad-at-stuff]

In a modern AU both Grogu AND Din are autistic, and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands

[omgspacecowboys]

Grogu doesn't talk, Din thinks nothing of it, he himself doesn't like talking that much, him and Grogu communicate pretty well without words half the time, so he figured once Grogu was in school he would start talking

He didn't

Luke is the teacher, he pretty soon starts to realize Grogu is autistic, so he talks to Din about it, Luke helps him with the diagnosing process, helping Din who didn't really have a support system, they get close. Somewhere along the line Luke realises that Din also probably is autistic, it's a bit shocking to him that masked without even realising it, Luke is supportive and there for the both of them throughout the process

idk what this is it's just out of my brain now

[veradragonjedi]

EYO SOMEONE ORDER A BBB???

[CHAPTER 28!!AAAA]

Probably my fave so far — the insomniarc continues!

The theme today is madness!!!! Who here likes madness??? :)

@airlocksandaviaries @positivityjediprince @surfing-on-a-soundwave @materassassino @vanishedangels @idkbishsss @jspookywolf @pebblish @thechaoticfanartist @doublechocolate @insertmeaningfulusername @funkyphonophorae @proftree @bison-appreciation-club @justanothercatastrophe @purple-goo-writes

(tell me if you'd like to be added or removed!)

Tags and other shizz under the cut!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: The Mandalorian (TV)

Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin & Cara Dune & Boba Fett & Fennec Shand, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo

Characters:

Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin, Grogu, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Cobb Vanth, Cara Dune, R2-D2, Ahsoka Tano, Ben Solo

Additional Tags:

Human/Vampire Relationship, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Good Parent Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Alternate Ending, Grogu | Baby Yoda Ships Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Luke trains Din with the Darksaber, Vampire Luke, Post-The Mandalorian (TV) Season/Series 02, R2-D2 hates Din Djarin, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Whump, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Squick, Canon-Typical Violence, violence in general, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt, Friends To Lovers, Hurt No Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, BAMF Luke Skywalker, Only like half the time though, The other half is, Sad Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker has PTSD, Luke Skywalker Has ADHD, Autistic Din Djarin, Asexual Din Djarin, Asexual Luke Skywalker, Well theyre both aspec- itll be clearer in the future i swear (Din is demi Luke is grey), Touch-Starved Luke Skywalker, WHOOOOOO, Co-parents To Lovers

Language: English

Words: 154,413 -> Chapters: 28/?

[drawingdroid]

The Unknown Regions V

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: Grogu is gone and Din Djarin, surprisingly, needs your help. As an astrophysicist, you haven't seen a lot of action, but you're onboard the Razor Crest without a second thought. Flying to the Wild Space together will be a life-changing experience for both of you. In more than one way.

The Unknown Regions Masterlist | Read it on AO3

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; fluff and smut; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

Word count: 3,136

A/N:  I've taken so long to close this chapter since I was having a major episode of autistic burnout bothering me. But slowly I'm recovering and finally forced myself to do the things I enjoy like writing fics! So I'm back with this story! It keeps getting longer so I initially planned 5 chapters but they'll end up being 7. This one is longer and then 6 will be pure filth ;) and 7 will serve as a kind of epilogue. Strap on for some confessions and feelings in this one! Also, keldabe kiss if you catch the reference in the chapter end!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

“Hi sweetheart”, you cooed, your tone soft and quiet.

The kid was poking his little face behind the doorframe, looking at his dad and you alternatively. The first day after rescuing him, he didn’t want to eat anything and Din was crazy worried. Normally, he said, he had quite the appetite. The boy just napped on his father’s chest, sometimes waking up weeping from nightmares. Your heart ached for him. What had he possibly gone through on that planet to be like that? Din and you decided that waiting for you to be introduced to Grogu was the best since he wasn’t feeling safe. But for the last hours, he seemed like he was recovering, eating finally some food and looking better. 

As Din expected, the whole plan was aimed to lure him into a trap. An act of revenge from some pirates that, thankfully, didn’t know anything about the kid’s powers and just abducted him as bait when they couldn’t defeat his dad back on Tatooine. He came all hurt from the battle. You had been anxiously waiting for him, feeling powerless to stay back, but accompanying him would have been a liability. To keep yourself busy, you run some diagnostics about the planet. It wasn’t the moment to be excited, but landing on a planet you had just discovered was something any scientist would dream about. So you were distracted by studying the atmosphere and taking some samples from the soil when you saw him limping through the forest, you left your tools to run towards him. You were going to ask when he put his pointer finger where his lips would be in a universal signal. Silence. Then, he looked between his arms and you followed. Between his strong arms, there was bundled the most precious creature you had ever seen. His son. The baby was snoring softly under his blanket and you nodded in understanding.

After entering the hull, his arm over your shoulders, he didn’t let you give him treatment. His one and only goal was to be sure of the kid’s health. He took his temperature, listened to his tiny lungs and tried feeding him. Shortly after it was clear the only damage the boy had suffered was psychological. He didn’t rest nor sleep, and you accompanied him the whole time. Watching the baby rest on Din’s breastplate, and how the warrior caressed the little fuzzy head, made your heart go wild. The love and devotion he demonstrated to his kid only made you fonder of The Mandalorian.

After the incident that had interrupted your heavy make-out session, you didn’t touch again. Din was laser-focused on the mission, especially when you landed and he had to recover all the information possible about the enemy’s base. For that, it was useful to have brought your little drone droid with you, the type that was launched to unknown planets to retrieve information. Din frowned at the little droid at first, but when it proved its worth he became more accepting about it. It was the droid that provided a map of the underground base, checked if the air was breathable and let Din know how many enemies were stationed there.

When he didn’t start the take-off protocol upon his arrival, you were worried about your safety but didn’t say anything. Later you’d learn he had killed them all. How that information should have felt? Frightening, probably, disgusting. But the fact that he slayed more than twenty pirates just to avenge his son and ensure his safety was kind of incredible. You only admired him more for that. 

Before arriving on the planet, you had lamented the lack of intimacy. Your rational self told you he was having complicated feelings, that he was preparing himself for the mission and didn’t have time for that. In fact, he was making an inventory of his weapons and cleaning them regularly. But the thing was that your feelings were hurt and you couldn’t stop overthinking about your past intercourse. He had been so vulnerable it had broken your heart. He had cried in your lap, and you had held him until he calmed down, caressing there where the beskar didn’t protect his flesh. You knew it wasn’t about you, for kriff’s sake, but that little voice inside your head said the contrary. That he had thought it better. That he felt repulsed by you. Like a mantra, you repeated his praise words in your head to keep the overthinking away when you were trying to sleep.

The intimacy didn’t return, but the boy did, and he was feeling better every day. Grogu was a curious and energetic kid and it took a lot to keep up with him. His appetite returned eventually, and you could see how Din was relaxing little by little. The day he introduced both of you, the baby had toddled towards your boot and hugged it, and then started to babble incoherently. It turned out to be a good signal because from that day you became buddies. With any spare part, cloth or scrap, you made him toys and invented little games to let Din rest from time to time. You grew very fond of the kid, he was a charmer and you liked children. Often, his dad observed you both, normally after waking up from a much-needed nap. He stated immobile, looking at both of you, and you’d flash him a smile. Maybe he didn’t want you anymore, maybe it had been just a desperate moment of need, but something about the way his hands twitched when he looked at you gave you hope.

Eventually, you needed to refuel and buy supplies on your way to Tatooine. You didn’t want to think about the day all of this would end. You tried not to. But the shadow was there. The fact was that you didn’t miss your workplace. All the return trip, you had been working on your data about the new planet and sending it to the observatory, discovering further about the chemistry of its atmosphere and soil. You’d been researching about the moon you saw when you were in orbit, a satellite you didn’t notice from the observatory. It was real, it was tangible. It wasn’t only numbers and abstract calculations, a part you enjoyed, but now you had discovered it wasn’t enough.

The planet you had landed on for your supply run was a safe one, so you accompanied Din through the market. Compared to Tatooine, this place was so lush and colourful, so you were enjoying yourself a lot by asking vendors and looking through things.

“Do you like this carpet?” Din surprised you with his question while you were checking some shawls.

“What?” He just pointed to a beautiful and fluffy carpet hanging on a stall.

“It’s lovely! It’ll warm the Razor Crest for sure, the kid can play on it…”

“It’s for you.” He cut you, changing his weight uncomfortably.

“I ruined your carpet back on Tatooine. By bleeding.” 

Your laugh took him by surprise apparently. After everything, he was thinking of replacing your carpet? He was so, so sweet and your heart ached a bit.

“You don’t need to buy me a carpet, you have already given me more than more than I could dream of.” You didn’t intend to sound that deep, it was only a carpet for maker’s sake! But the truth was that you felt so grateful for the opportunity Did had given you by travelling with him. He tilted his head and crossed his arms. The kid started to play with the carpet’s tassels, but all of Din’s attention was on you.

“I don’t understand. You left everything to help us. The least I could do…” He looked to both sides, noticing all the vendor’s eyes were on them. There wasn’t a place to have that conversation. “Let’s go back to the Crest.” You nodded and followed after untangling the kid from the soft tassels. It was a beautiful carpet, to be honest.

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

After spending the day in the market, full of new and exciting things, the kid was snoring even before arriving at the Razor Crest. Both of you stayed silent to not disturb the baby, so your conversation was postponed for the moment.

Din had landed on a quiet forest clearing, and the only sound was the humming of the nocturnal birds. The temperature was nice, so silently you both agreed to light a campfire to cookdinner and luckily, hang out a bit. He went to put Grogu in his little hammock while you looked for firewood, so you had some space for yourself to think.

“Don't go too far,” he'd said seriously, and as other times you noticed his gaze lingering more than necessary in you. You'd smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. He was worrying too much, this was a safe planet after all. But you couldn't deny that his concerns about your safety warmed your heart a little too much.

While looking for the most promising branches in the surroundings of the clearing, you thought about the carpet event. It made you think about your home. You felt ashamed about how little though you had put on the fact that you'd be in your cabin again, soon. The little space you had worked hard to get, your sanctuary. And you didn't miss it a little bit. Well, maybe your bathtub and scented candles. But that was it.

The fact was that flying in the Razor Crest felt like home. And it didn't have anything to do with the old hunk of metal and its barren, utilitarian interior. It was Din, who made you feel safe, your unspeakable connection. How he had held you, as the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And the addition of the child only had made the sensation grow. The little critter was beyond adorable and you loved the humble routines the three of you had established. And observing how his dad took care of him, so gently and patiently, only made you grow fonder of the Mandalorian.

But everything had to end. Something too similar to grief started to grow inside of your chest. You pressed the firewood harder against your body. There was enough to light a nice bonfire so you decided to return to the Crest. After all, you had a pending conversation with Din.

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Together you started the campfire and prepared a delicious meal with the fresh produce from the market. You insisted on cooking something from your birthplace since the ingredients were available, and Din indulged. Since you were flying together, he would always wait to eat after you or eat in the cockpit, but the stew was ready and he wasn't moving. You didn’t know what to do.

“I'll go change, tell me if you like it!” Din looked at you and nodded slowly. It was strange, he was even more silent than normal.

Putting your night clothes on, you felt relieved. With what you had been wearing, although cute, your thighs had been burning after some hours of walking in the warm weather. You refreshed yourself a little and checked if the kid was still asleep and well.

“Are you visible?” You asked before going down the hull, hoping he had had enough time to have dinner in peace.

“Yes, you can come out.” You descended the ramp eager to have your homemade dinner, but you had to stop a moment to admire the sight. He looked beautiful under the flames, reflecting them in the beskar he always kept impeccable. “What?” He asked, catching you mesmerized by him. Your heart instantly spiked, feeling caught.

“Nothing just…your beskar looks…beautiful.” Your cheeks warmed, and you activated again your legs to sit beside the campfire. He passed a full bowl of the stew to you, still steamy and you thanked him.

“It was delicious,” he commented casually after a while. “I even had a second serving.” You lifted your eyebrows, knowing how rare that was for him. He ate the bare minimum, even less than a man his size needed, you suspected.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you responded, finishing the last drops of your meal. “My mother used to prepare this when I was feeling gloomy, it's…a comfort food.” You smiled, remembering how your mom would pace around the kitchen while you whimpered about your last teenage drama and how after a while, she'd produce the delicious stew that shut you up and made you feel much better. 

Din looked at the empty pot as if it contained all the responses to the secrets of the universe. 

“Did it work?” You asked out of nothing, feeling brave after the magic stew. Din looked at you, pot still in his hands.

“What?”

“The stew. Something is bothering you, right? Did it make it better?” You bite your lip, worrying about being intrusive. But was it a dream? The closeness you experienced with him? Deep in your heart, you were craving that vulnerability again. So you had to try.

Din sighed deeply and put the pot away. Intertwining his gloved hands, it looked like he was picking the right words and your chest tightened with anticipation.

“You've been…so kind. To me. To us. I don't know how to repay you.” His voice sounded husky and he looked troubled, you even felt bad. Bad because this good, caring man, felt like kindness was some type of currency and what that implied. 

How harsh has your life been, Din Djarin?

Carefully, you sat a bit closer to him. “Din, hear me out.” his helmet turned so fast when you said his name it was almost comical. “I didn't help you looking for something in return. First, you were wounded and I couldn't just let you die on my carpet.”  You grinned mentioning the blasted carpet again. “And then we were in Mos Espa and I saw a father in need who had lost his child.”

Remembering his sorrow then was almost painful. It had hurt watching him navigate the fear, the loss.

You waited, almost able to hear the gears of his brain, thinking about the possibility of disinterested kindness. 

“Before…in the market…you said I've already given me more than more than you could dream of.” His voice was quieter now and he was observing the fire. A question lingered in the air. 

You inhaled sharply hearing your sappy words in his mouth, feeling utterly ashamed. You were referring to traveling to the Unknown Regions, to the planet you had discovered, but it was more than that. It was the quiet intimacy of your day to day with them, his little thoughtful details to you, how he was determined to teach you to fly, or the weight of Grogu when he napped on your chest. 

Would you be brave? He had opened the door, but it was your decision to cross. You were afraid: if you opened your mouth, there wouldn’t be a way to come back. The point of no return.

“I’ve never felt like this before.” You confessed, trying to have the courage and looking at his visor. “I've never been further from home but with you… I feel safe to navigate even the Unknown Regions.” 

You twisted your nightgown in your hands, feeling like you could die from the embarrassment. Lucky for you he was going to leave you soon in Tatooine, because you'll never recover if he didn't feel the same. But once started your brain didn't stop to run all the things you wanted to say to him, like a dam breaking.

“I don't want anything in exchange for my help because being with you is the reward.” It was cheesy but it was also the truth. Now that you had bared your heart, you felt relief, but also like you were going to throw up. 

He had listened to you still like a beskar statue and your anxiety was spiking. The initial braveness had faded and now the overthinking was waiting for its moment to torture you.

But then he moved. Grabbed your hand, wrapping yours in his bigger palm. Like that first night when he told you about Grogu and you comforted him.

“Mesh’la.” All his body was now turned to you like he wasn’t only listening with his ears but all of him. “Is that true?” The emotion that his modulated voice transmitted, close to breaking, was a rare thing for him. It made you shiver as you squeezed his hand back.

“Yes Din, everything of it. I know I  should find myself wanting to go home after all these weeks, but I already feel like home here, with you.” Now even your ears felt hot and you had to look elsewhere or you’d combust.

Din sighed heavily. “You love your job, and you’re great at it.”

“That’s true,” you admitted, a pinch of sorrow fiding your chest, but also hopeful because he hadn’t rejected you yet. And because of what he had been implying.

Din looked at the Razor Crest, and then his gaze returned to you. “I haven’t felt at home for a long, long time,” he confessed, and something in you ached at the confession, “but since you’re onboard…” The Bounty Hunter looked at his boots and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’m not good with words” At this point, your eyes were glossy and your lower lip was trembling.

“You’ve said plenty, Din.” He inhaled sharply and then gathered the courage to wrap your waist in an embrace. You happily curled against his cuirass, nesting your face against the crook of his neck. His right hand hadn’t left yours for a moment. The warmth you felt was incomparable with nothing you’d sensed before. It was like being so full of affection that you were in danger of spilling it. You wanted to smile and cry. 

“We’ll figure things out, mesh’la,” he said softly, tracing shapes in your back.

Goosebumps formed in your skin and inevitably you remembered the last (and first) time you were intimate. You were longing for another moment like that between you. The commanding but kind way Din had spoken to you, his adoring yourds and hands exploring your supple flesh? You sighed against his covered neck and his masculine scent filled your nostrils. It had an immediate effect on you, and soon arousal started to pool between your thighs.

“Din…,” you started, voice a little thick from desire.”...would you touch me tonight, please?”

His whole body tensed and his grip on you tightened. There was a knot in your stomach. There was a limit to how forward a girl could be on the same day.

“As you wish, mesh’la.” And before you could protest, he was carrying you to the belly of the Crest.