Grogu Djarin - Blog Posts

The mandalorian chapter 16

The rescue

SPOILER WARNING

. . .

I'M NOT CRYING YOUR CRYING SO IS POOR DIN!!!!

I AM NOT OVER REACTING!!!!!

...

Ok so what if I am... Man there is just a lot to unpack from that episode... can we also talk about how

THE FREAKING LEGEND

HAS RETURNED TO STAR WARS FOR ONE LAST TIME HOLY SHI-

Man I have a lot of issues to sort out right now... welp I guess that's the end of that... what? ... wait there's gonna be a third season next year? ... reless date is some time in December of 2021? ......

... then we shall wait then

The Mandalorian chapter 15 SPOILER WARNING

...so ... Din Djarin helmetless... and minus the blood and cuts on his face....

... so uh... anyone else want some simp tea 🍵... also would you care for a side of

GET F@#$ING DUNKED ON MOFF GIDEN!!!!

THE MANDALORIAN IS COMING FOR YO @$$!!!!

HAHAHA-!!!!

... also can we take a second to appreciate how MUCH the mandalorian LOVES his kid and would show his face to an army of FREAKING EMPIRE SOLDIER AND COMMANDERS

Breaking his line of code ALL FOR THIS CUTE ADORABLE LITTLE GUY TO BE BACK IN HIS ARMS!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!!

Spoiler warning for the Mandalorian chapter 14

Anyone else watch mandalorian chapter 14...

Case uh....

MANDO DONE F@#$ UP!!!

RULE NUMBER ONE NEVER LEAVE YOUR CHILD ALONE!!!!! UNSUPERVISED!!!!!

RULE NUMBER TWO NEVER. TAKE. YOUR. F@#$ING JETPACK OFF YOUR BACK!!!! AND IF YOU ARE! MAKE SURE THAT THE CHILD IS WITH YOOOOOU!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!

.... the one good thing about this chapter was that we got to see more of Dadalorain being father to his son

⭐So precious ⭐

🤩🥰😍

I definitely need a full fanfic for this (●♡∀♡)

AU- morderno (inspired by a scene from Despicable Me 2)

Din organized the birthday party Grogu and there is Omera with her daughter Winta. She is a friend of Din childhoodand and she always tries to trap Din with all manner of appointment combined with all kinds of men or woman.

During the party something is on fire and the sheriff in the town passes at that moment helping.

Having escaped danger Din and Grogu remain impressed and amazed by the Marshal for the matter of his for the kindness and understanding.

"Din Djarin" looks clumsy Din.

The Marshall shakes his hand, "Cobb Vanth".

"This is my son," she said the brown-eyed man placing his hands on the shoulders of his son.

Grogu looks Cobb with puppy eyes and would see him as a hero, "Are you single?".

Din turns red upon hearing his son's words and would like to hide from Cobb's beautiful eyes, while Omera is already planning a diabolical plan to bring together those two.

still crying over how gently and politely din held her wrists (I am touch starved)

Din: he’s just a bounty idc I need money

Din, 2 days later: what did you just say about my son?

sometimes family is you, the cute kid you met on the flight, and his mysterious dad

The last thing Boba expected, was to meet an utterly adorable child on the flight home, and then get mistaken for the child's buir and the riduur of the child's actual buir.

Rating: G

Pairings: Boba Fett & Grogu; Din Djarin/Boba Fett; brief Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: reference to past near-fatal jellyfish stings

Prompts: @bobadinweek 2021 day 4 | family & this

“Give us a call when you land, ok?”

Boba rolled his eyes exasperatedly at the third reminder. “Yes, O’buir.”

Obi-Wan smiled fondly at his child’s antics through the screen. “Sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

“Yes, O’buir,” Boba sighed theatrically. “I’m 25. I can make my way home from the airport.”

But he couldn’t help the instinctive face he made when Jango appeared in the frame only to drape his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and hook his chin over the other’s shoulder to kiss his cheek.

“Buir!” he said exasperatedly. “Stop doing that every time I call home, for Force’s sake. You can be sappy when I’m not there!”

Jango merely smirked at him while Obi-Wan hid a laugh behind his palm.

Oh Boba just knew his buir was doing it on purpose to get a rise outta him! He scowled at the pair, not that it did anything to stop them. No, they had been that way for 15 standard years already, and would be that way till they joined the ka’ra.

(And he wouldn’t have them any other way. He only hoped that he would one day find a riduur who would look at him the way his buire looked at each other.)

The hall speaker came alive with a chime, interrupting any further conversation.

“That must be your boarding call,” commented Obi-Wan. “Have a safe flight, dear. Love you.”

“Safe flight, Bob’ika. We’ll see you when you get home,” added Jango.

“Mm, yeah. Love you, buire.” Boba waved back at them before ending the call.

Sighing, he slid the datapad into his jacket and shouldered his carry-on before pulling on his buy’ce again. At the boarding announcement of the rows including his, he joined the others making their way onto the aircraft.

“Welcome aboard, sir,” greeted the Togrutan flight attendant, glancing over Boba’s documents. “We wish you a pleasant flight.”

Boba tipped his head briefly in acknowledgement. Ahead of him, the mass of people slowly inched their way to their seats. Lowering the audio input of his buy’ce to reduce the audible hum of the craft, he joined them, squeezing his way past people until he arrived at his row.

More preoccupied with getting his carry-on into the overhead cabin space, he did not fully register the presence of his row-mates until a cheerful chirp caught his attention.

“Oh,” he breathed out, sliding into his seat which was thankfully an aisle one. “And who might you be, ad’ika?”

Big brown eyes stared back at him curiously from an impossibly tiny body, floppy green ears twitching ever so slightly. The kid was swaddled in thick robe-like clothing and had a child’s seat belt fastened neatly over its body where it sat in the center seat. Tipping its head, the child cooed at Boba.

“His name is Grogu.”

Boba looked up at the person sitting by the window and his breath caught at the sight of the unpainted pure beskar buy’ce.

The mando was clad in an unassuming, loose-fitting outfit of a shirt, jacket and jeans. But Boba had grown up around ori'ramikade, his buir being one himself, and had seen them in all sorts of attire.

He knew an experienced combatant when he saw one.

(Not to mention beskar was still incredibly rare. Not even the ramikade owned pure pieces of beskar’gam. So for the mando to be wearing the pure unpainted metal and as their buy’ce no less, they had to be talented enough to still keep it even with all the aruetiise who would gladly slaughter them for it.)

“I see,” he murmured. Straightening up slightly, he offered his forearm. “Boba Fett. Clan Fett, House Mereel. He/him.”

The mando clasped Boba’s arm, a silent strength in their grip. “Mando. He/him,” he replied, offering no more information.

Boba merely nodded as they let go. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a traditionalist.

(And it elevated his opinion of the man’s skill even higher. Though it did also raise the question of why he had given out his ad’s name. Perhaps the child was not used to being addressed otherwise.)

“Well met, Mando.”

The child squeaked, waving his clawed hands at Boba. He laughed softly at the adorable cry for attention.

“Well met, Grogu,” he said seriously, gently grasping one tiny hand.

As the pre-flight announcements began, the mando distracted the child with a shiny silver ball. The kid was happy enough to play with the item, rolling it back and forth between his hands.

Meanwhile Boba pulled out his own datapad and busied himself with a few interesting research papers he’d not had time to read while juggling his semester’s course load. The 9-hour flight would give him more than enough time to make a sizable dent in his reading list.

He connected his buy’ce to the in-flight entertainment system easily enough, and was soon absorbed in his reading, strains of warbat trance playing over his internal comms.

Engrossed as he was, he barely registered the passing of time until a soft insistent patting of his thigh caught his attention. He looked down from his datapad to find the kid tapping the outside of his leg, wide eyes fixed on his buy’ce.

“What is it, ad’ika?” he asked quietly, switching off his music.

Grogu cooed at him and raised his arms up. Boba glanced over at the mando, but the man seemed unaware of his ad’s antics. The silver buy’ce gave no hint of what could be happening beneath, though Boba figured there was a good chance the man was fast asleep.

Truthfully it was highly unlikely that the mando would be willing to let his guard down enough to fall asleep on public transport, especially around so many strangers and with an ad to protect. But it was even more unlikely that he would let his ad interact so unreservedly with an unknown, even a fellow mando’ad, if he was aware of such interaction taking place.

At Boba’s prolonged inaction, the child grew more and more fussy, his whines getting louder as he smacked his hand forcefully against Boba’s leg.

Making his choice, Boba stowed away his datapad and unbuckled the kid’s seat belt, carefully lifting the child and settling him on his lap.

“Shhh, ad’ika,” he whispered, gently stroking one ear. “Your buir is sleeping.”

Grogu easily settled down, having gotten what he wanted. Boba wrapped a protective arm around the tiny body, cradling the kid close as he had his fill exploring Boba’s clothing, fiddling with the many zippers, pockets and buttons.

Perhaps it was the “buir instinct” that was often joked about by the mando’ade, but Boba found himself unconsciously smiling as Grogu played with the folds of his clothes, unbothered by the number of times he had to carefully disentangle the kid’s claws when they caught on the fabric.

“Patoo!” Grogu exclaimed softly. He lifted his hands up, straining towards Boba’s face.

Boba bent forward to let Grogu skitter his hands over the buy’ce’s cool surface, heedless of the strain in his neck at the awkward position. After a few gentle pats Grogu frowned, ears dipping down, then tapped the side of the buy’ce insistently.

“Do you want it off?” Boba asked curiously.

Grogu’s ears perked up. “Patoo!”

He tapped the buy’ce once more.

Sneaking a look over at the mando to make sure he hadn’t woken, Boba lowered the tray-table and helped Grogu onto it, making sure he supported the table with his legs. The child was incredibly light, but he’d rather not risk breaking the tray and/or endangering the kid either way.

Grogu watched him eagerly from his perch, and Boba huffed a laugh before pulling off his buy’ce and placing it on the kid’s empty seat.

“Patoo?” the kid whined, ears drooping as he reached for Boba.

“It’s ok, ad’ika,” Boba murmured, bending slightly to let Grogu run his hands over the scars on his face. “It’s ok, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The child looked at him sadly, tipping his head in silent question.

“It was an accident,” Boba replied, running a finger across the kid’s ear. “My buire and I were freediving in the ocean near our house one evening a year ago. We didn’t see them, but I ended up swimming into a couple of jellyfish.”

“My buire were terrified,” he added quietly. “I nearly died that day.”

Grogu shuffled closer to hug Boba. Running his hand down the kid’s back, for a brief moment, Boba could’ve sworn he felt an almost familiar surge of warmth engulf him.

“Hello sir, is there any food or drink option you would like to have?”

Tensing, Boba pulled away and turned to the flight attendant, an arm wrapped protectively around Grogu. He relaxed slightly when the Twi’lek female smiled down at the child and greeted him softly.

“Do you have any broth for the kid?” he asked when Grogu turned pleading eyes on him.

The attendant briefly consulted her datapad. “Yes, we do have bone broth suitable for your child. Would you like it in a toddler-friendly cup?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

The attendant handed over the cup. “Anything for you or your partner, sir?”

Boba choked, quickly disguising it with a cough as the Twi’lek looked at him in concern. “Ah, no. We’re good, thank you.”

As the attendant moved away, Boba could still feel the heat that had rushed to his ears and the back of his neck at the mistaken assumption. Grogu squeaked at him, patting at his chest.

“She thinks your buir is my riduur and you’re my ad,” he told the kid incredulously.

Grogu simply tipped his head and cooed.

“Ok, fair enough, I can see why she might think you’re my ad. But your buir's riduur? I could be a vod.”

The kid merely squirmed forward, attention fixed on the cup Boba held rather than what he was saying. Sighing, Boba helped the child off the tray-table and onto his thighs before handing the cup over. Grogu chirped happily and snuggled into Boba’s stomach, clutching his prize triumphantly.

Boba watched him absently, mind drifting back to the attendant’s words.

He’d never thought about having an ad of his own before, not seriously at least. But as Grogu sipped at the broth, perfectly content to sit on a stranger’s lap, he could slowly paint a picture of a future for himself - one with a tiny green child and an intriguing man with a pure beskar buy’ce.

He shook his head to get rid of the fanciful idea. “Di’kut,” he cursed under his breath. “I really need to get out more.”

A thump of the cup against his chest had him firmly back in reality.

He took the offending item. “Done, Gro’ika?”

Grogu nodded seriously at him. Then to his amusement, a large yawn escaped the tiny body, almost causing the kid to topple over if not for Boba.

“Looks like it’s nap time for someone.”

Grogu yawned once more in agreement. Burrowing himself back in Boba’s arms, he blinked tiredly a few times, and was soon out like a light. Boba tucked the folds of his jacket around the kid and leaned back against the headrest.

It really wasn’t so bad - taking care of an adiik.

The dim light and low drone of the aircraft quickly had Boba feeling the exhaustion of the day. And within minutes, he too unintentionally slipped into sleep.

“Hey,” a low voice called as someone shook his arm. “We’re landing soon.”

Boba’s eyes snapped open, body tense, only to meet the dark T-visor of the mando. A surge of discomfort coursed through him as his bare face was reflected back at him.

Then he remembered the child.

“I-” he spluttered, looking down at the kid who was still fast asleep in his arms. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” the mando cut him off, the smooth metal of his buy’ce giving no hint of true emotion. “Let him sleep. He’s had trouble doing so the last few days.”

Boba couldn’t help the flush that crept up his neck. Here he was bare-faced (the ugly scars criss-crossing his visage exposed) and cuddling a traditionalist’s child without their express permission, and somehow he was still alive and unharmed.

It was a kriffing miracle. His buir would’ve killed others for less.

Really, the only saving grace of the situation was that his aliit was not there to make fun of his massive misstep, for which he sent a quick thanks to the ka’ra.

Then he hastily grabbed his buy’ce off the seat between them and shoved it on. And just in time too, because the flight attendants were making their landing rounds.

“Good morning sirs,” greeted the same flight attendant from before. “Could you please have your child seated with their seatbelt fastened? We will be landing soon.”

Boba’s face was on fire under his buy’ce. He was already in deep enough osik with the mando, and now the attendant’s misunderstanding was putting him in an even worse spot!

He opened his mouth to hastily correct the attendant when the mando spoke.

“We understand. Thank you.”

Boba’s jaw dropped. As the attendant went down the other rows, he numbly placed Grogu back in his seat and watched as the mando carefully fastened his kid’s seat belt.

Mando was definitely one of the strangest traditionalists he’d ever met.

“Sorry,” he finally spoke. “About the attendant, she-”

“I know. I was awake,” replied Mando. “Since Grogu started trying to get your attention.”

“Oh he was no trou- Wait. You were awake the whole time?”

Mando huffed a laugh, a warm sound that not even the vocoder could completely disguise.

“He’s fond of you. It’s… unusual,” the mando said slowly. “He generally doesn’t like others very much.”

“I see,” Boba replied faintly.

They remained in silence as the aircraft landed and everyone around them began to disembark. Boba stood as the mando unbuckled his and Grogu’s seat belts.

“Do you have a carry-on?” he asked, pulling out his own bag to sling over his shoulder.

“Elek,” said the mando. “Same compartment.”

Boba nodded and pulled out the only other bag as Mando picked up his child. When the other reached out to take the bag, Boba shook his head. “It’s fine, I can take it.”

“You have an ad,” he added when it seemed like the mando would argue.

That seemed enough to convince the mando, and the two began the long process of going through customs and collecting their luggage.

By the time they finally exited the arrival hall, Grogu was wide-awake and happily cooing at all the new sights and sounds, eagerly pointing things out to both the mando and Boba. They came to a halt right outside the taxi stand.

The mando handed the silver ball to Grogu, and the child quietened, content to play with the item.

“Vor entye, Boba Fett,” he finally said.

Boba immediately shook his head. “There is no debt between us. Children are the future.”

“This is the Way,” replied the mando quietly.

They stood in silence for a moment longer.

“Do you have a place to go?” Boba asked. “Because, you could come over for a while if you want. My buire love kids, and-”

Grogu startled as a taxi sped by, dropping the metal ball with an upset squeak, which then bounced onto the road.

“Grogu,” the mando began, when the child lifted his tiny hand and the ball zipped back into it.

Boba inhaled sharply. “A Force-user.”

Beside him, the mando went still, a predatorial calm that sent klaxon sirens ringing through Boba’s head.

“Udseii, Mando,” he said evenly, making sure to keep his posture calm and unthreatening. “I will not harm you or your ad.”

At his side, the edge of a blade threatened to slice into him. “You’re not the first nor the last to say that.”

“Haat, ijaa, haa'it!” Boba swore readily. “My buir and some of my vod are jetiise, Mando. I promise you, neither my aliit nor I will harm you or your ad.”

At that, the mando finally relaxed. For the first time, Boba could see the exhaustion that threatened to swallow the other whole, and he found himself instinctively reaching forward to steady the man.

“Your buir, could you- could you take me to them?” the mando asked. “I was told to find a Jedi. I- I can’t- The child, he’s not safe. There are people hunting him.”

Grogu whined, sensing his buir’s distress. Boba’s heart, already firmly in the kid’s grasp, ached as the mando tried to sooth the child.

“Yes,” he answered. “Yes, I can take you to him. You both will be safe with us.”

I love to draw bc I can do this and it will be okay

ATTENTION

HE HOLDS HIS HAND

“Then I will adopt him as my own!”

Serious question to Star Wars and Mandalorian Fans:

Since Luke is going to take Grogu in as his Padawan, does that mean Kylo Ren is also going to kill him later on?

Please tell me no, because the thought alone makes me sad...

Has this been asked before?

SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 15 OF THE MANDALORIAN

H E T O O K H I S H E L M E T O F F AAAAA DIN DOES SO MUCH FOR THE BABY I AM CRYING OMFG IT'S SO BITTERSWEET

DADA IS MAD

U BETTER WATCH OUT, GIDEON

off top mayfeld having sexual tension with everyone, even the fucking droid, is the best thing on the planet

Message me to request for someone on my list!

Click this link to get sent to my list⬇️

My Main Masterlist

Mandalorian Fandom P.S.A.

Just a reminder to everyone out there that claiming Mando's name is Djarin Din is very Euro-centric and until Dave and John confirm what is and is not a surname for our favorite Himbo Dad, it's extremely unfair to say what is and is not canon regarding his name when it's colonizing a space that's meant to be safe for everyone. If you WANT to call him by either or and that's your headcanon, that's fine, but I'm getting real tired of seeing fellow non-white/Euro based friends getting shut down for sticking with Din and inviting immature fans into their safe spaces to peacefully educate them. Ya'll, do better.

A part the ‘what he would’ve wanted’ wip I’m working on rn because this chapter is taking a while and I need to feed the wolves. See if you can guess what’s going on!

He didn’t know what he was expecting, couldn’t understand how he hoped for the same mechanic that had helped his buir all that while ago. What, that after all this time she’d not only still be here, but would also be in the hanger his teacher had chosen at random?

Please. He remembered how the other Younglings would hate it if a story melded perfectly for the character’s usage. ‘He has stupid plot armour!’ they’d cry out. ‘It makes no sense!’

Fool him twice for thinking he had plot armour.

I just thought it was funny :)

Well hey guess what?

After a lot of struggling and more than one occasion where I went “Hey can I just rewrite this whole chapter?” I finally managed to get another one up for ya!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909794/chapters/72110688

‘what he would’ve wanted,’ is back!! Have fun :)

“I didn’t see a Mandalorian when I found you…” Master Skywalker drifted off.

Grogu didn’t fill the silence.

Yep, ‘what he would’ve wanted’ has been updated and more pain has been whipped out on a silver platter. Plot happens in this chapter. Feelings happen in this chapter. 

Lots of things happen in this chapter.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909794/chapters/71283183

oh my god OP

OP

You can’t just give me this opportunity and expect me to let it be 

oh my god

mind if I switch it up slightly? yeah? okay great anyway-

There’s a man that stands in the alleyway.

He stands with his blaster out. His grip is relaxed - experienced. His shoulders are tense and his stance ready - also experienced. 

Grogu, hidden in an alcove of the wall and staring down, should’ve expected this. This man wore Mandalorian armour. Whether or not he earned it or stole it, he would need the skills to even get a hand on the beskar.

(Other Mandalorians might not have the skill to get the Beskar)

And certainly not so much of it. The armour is silver and unpainted. Grogu has half a mind to try and shoot him in the leg guards just to see if those were beskar too.

But he’s not a fool. Mostly.

Grogu wears beskar too. He has had it reforged to fit him; the armour of his late father. He wears it with pride and guards it with ferocity, like how his father had done before him, and how every Mandalorian has done, had done, and will do.

He walks the way of Mandalore. Not many do.

Grogu’s job is to make sure this man does.

He whistles a long, low tune.

The man jolts subtly - surprised. He whistles back.

Grogu finds a tug of a smile on his face. It would be good to have another addition to the covert, to the people. Mandalorians were strong alone, but they were stronger together.

His helmet whirrs softly. A signal that it’s efforts of connecting to the man’s helmet were successful. Good; Grogu needs the privacy of the comm channel for this next bit.

“Su cuy’gar (Hello; You’re still alive),” Grogu says into the link. He snorts, amused as the man jolts again. “Relax, I’m just in your helmet.”

The man does not relax, but Grogu didn’t expect him too. The phrase ‘I’m in your helmet,’ is not meant to be calming.

“I didn’t...know there were other Mandalorians here,” the man replies.

Grogu frowns. His voice. His voice is familiar - it tugs at him, it hurts. Grogu blinks slowly; now taking in that armour slowly. With every second that passes, Grogu finds it harder to breathe.

His gaze finally falls onto the man’s pauldron, and his signet.

“You’re not from here...” he breathes.

The man tenses further. “No...I just landed on this planet-”

“You’re not from here,” Grogu interrupts him, drawling his voice out. His mind is whirling. He chances a glance into the Force and is nearly knocked over by the sheer intensity of wrong.

The man is not from here - and more importantly, he’s not supposed to be here.

“Take off your helmet.”

The words are out of his mouth before Grogu even registers he opened it. He winced in the dark shadows of the alcove. If he said it to any other Mandalorian, he would’ve gotten a blaster shot right in the beskar and would’ve deserved it.

Understandably, the man tenses. His grip on his blaster tightens. Grogu remembers the skill the man has-

Grogu remembers.

Grogu remembers this man.

The man with the mudhorn signet.

Grogu steps out of the alcove. The man instantly shifts his Visor to stare at him - and Grogu can see him physically recoil in shock.

Wordless and swift - then Grogu stands on the floor of the alleyway. The man is taller than him (everyone is taller than him) but Grogu’s own Visor meets the man’s unflinchingly.

That’s a lie. Grogu is shaking. His breaths sound too loud and instinct calls for him to calm down.

The man is silent as he stares down at him. Grogu can see his blaster shake.

Grogu expels a sharp breath of air. He reaches up to his own head and takes off his helmet in one clean swoop.

His ears twitch - uneasy and unused to being out in the open like this after so long. His being screams at him to put it back on, but he grips the side of his helmet and forces it to be quiet.

The man. The man doesn’t speak. Grogu doesn’t even know if he breathes.

“...Grogu?”

Grogu’s helmet falls from his hands as Buir (father) takes off his own.

“Buir-”

Grogu’s father - Din Djarin - a man who died when he was a child, rushes forward to catch his son as Grogu falls to his knees.

Din: Who are you and where did you get that pendant?

Grogu(Teen): *takes his hood down* My name is Grogu and I am from the future.

Time travel AU

oh my god

mandalorian grogu would be the best fucking Beroya ever. 

“why do you say so?”

because

he’s already a hunter

oh my god imagine everyone looking at this. this small ass being and going “you’re the bounty hunter? really? i’m spending my money on you?” and then Grogu just comes back with the bounty in record time because he’s already just naturally a hunter. have you seen this mf’s ears? they’re so big wtf you think his prey can escape him?? no?? he can hear your heart beating and you better believe he’s coming after your crusty ass-

losing my mind at how Mandalorian Grogu would be the shortest Mandalorian ever

like full grown Yoda was like what, barely waist high? You’re just chilling in the cantina when you hear a blaster click behind you, and you hear a monotone “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” and you turn around just to see this small ass mf holding you at gun point