#baby ypda | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpopnstarwars · 8 months

Text

His Song Has Been Written: Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: ok so paz is gone now and I NEEDED TO WRITE A TRIBUTE CHAPTER TO HIM - this follows the plot for episode seven season 3 but i tweaked some stuff

tw: SPOILERS FOR MANDO EP 7 SEASON 3, swearing, pain, death, violence, they really gave us ragnar just to orphan him, not proof read one bit, sad asf,

Translations: vod = brother/sister, vod'ika = little brother/sister, di'kut = idiot,

wc: 1930

You realise now, how fucking blind you were.

There was no reason for the Stormtroopers wearing beskar to retreat; they were overpowering you, killing at least a quarter of your group. They'd cut and run, anyway, and you'd been too blinded with rage that these people, these Imperials, had been squatting in your home planet all this time, spreading rumours that its atmosphere was unbreathable and the land was poisoned, to realise. The fires of the Great Forge had been extinguished, and the air was cold and empty, barren and lacking the clang of hammers, but kindled at the sight of it was a deep rage towards the Imperials; Imperials that you now chased blindly through the caverns of the once shining Mandalore, right into their trap.

Now, you stand, between one of the Nite Owls and Paz Vizsla, surrounded by dirty, Imperial walls, built in the rock of your planet, as if they own it. As if they own the beskar they use, as if they own the metal that your people are built around, lurking in the shadows of your rightful home as you and the other children of the Watch fled from Concordia, if only to preserve the Creed. You're certain Gideon's behind this - you've clashed with him many times while you travelled with Din, protecting the child you now come to think of as your son.

You grit your teeth, widening your stance as you shoot at the Stormtroopers, Paz to your right, gunning them down with his heavy infantry gun. Somewhere to your left, Din fights too, and although you can't currently see Grogu in IG-12, you know Din must have an eye on him, because the way he stays in a certain radius of you informs you that he's acting as a sort of beskar shield around your son.

'Watch out, vod'ika,' Paz calls.

The sound of more jetpacks sound ahead, and you feel him grab the back of your shirt, tugging you backwards as a new wave of troops enter the hangar. Glancing at him over your shoulder, you retreat with him as he returns his hand back to his blaster, the deeper, rhythmic sound of his infantry gun almost comforting over the high whine of the Imperial blaster bolts and the familiar resonance of your own shots. Scanning the battle for Din, you catch him at the head of the retreat, his armour shining under the harsh lights, his back to you. A quick look behind you confirms that the third, smallest but probably oldest member of your clan is sheltered by a group of Nite Owls and members of your tribe, his eyes squinted against the light of the blasters.

'Din,' you yell, shooting a few of the troopers around him. 'Fall back!'

He turns his head; the red light of blasters reflects off his armour, like smears of crimson blood. Another jetpack sounds, and you yell Din's name again, dread settling in the pit of your stomach, heavy as a rotting corpse coming to rest on the murky sea floor. You balk at the sight of a man, clad in all black, a cape on his shoulders and a mockery of a Mandalorian helmet on his head; the cheeks are stained vermillion, the visor tinted in the same colour, Zabrak like horns rising from the top - there's no doubt who that is. Rage seethes within you: you knew it was him, you knew it was Gideon. Raising your blaster, you lurch forward, ready to protect your riduur, ready to -

The blast door slams shut, a few inches from your face.

Shock filters through your system, and your momentum carries you forward, slamming you right into the blast door, your helmet smashing into the glass window built into it. Curses leaves your lips, and you ram your fist into the metal, fear sending frigid chills down your spine; Din's out there, alone, with Gideon and about twenty Stormtroopers, all wearing beskar sacred to your people - the irony of it is almost as cutting as the self satisfied smirk on Gideon's face once he removes his helmet. You see the way Din's chest heaves, the way he clenches his fists, lifting his chin: he knows he's fucked, but he's ready to fight anyway.

The troopers on his right lunge for him, and he cuts them down, spinning to take on the next batch as they pile up before him. The smile on Moff Gideon's face grows wider and wider. You slam your fists against the blast doors, blood red oozing into your vision as rage warms your bones and burns away at your fear until all you want to do is cram the Imperial's face into molten beskar. Paz grabs your wrists, pulling you back from the blast doors and holding you firmly in his grasp, his arms tight around you, unescapable, and you growl, struggling, but he doesn't let go, his voice low in your ear.

'Don't - don't do this to yourself, vod'ika,' he says, his own anger prevalent in his voice. 'You're hurting yourself. I'd rather you break your knuckles across Gideon's face than against Imperial metal.'

You sigh, falling limp in Paz's arms. 'Okay. Let me - let me go, vod, I - I'm fine.'

'We'll think of something,' he assures you. 'We always do.'

Paz embraces you tightly, and you gladly wrap your arms around his waist, your fingertips barely touching from around his broad back. He knows you need this, he knows that you need something to anchor you, to calm you before you can think of a rescue plan. You've known him and Din as long as you can remember, and while Din became your riduur, Paz became your closest friend; he's as close as a brother, someone who would listen to your lovesick rants about his vod, someone who never failed to make you smile with his bold quips and bolder laugh. Peering up from his shoulder, you glance through the window in the blast door, and your heart drops. Gideon smiles on, smug as ever, as the troopers shove Din to his knees, and he continues to struggle, taking another down in a last attempt to break free.

'No,' you whisper, tearing yourself from Paz's grip. 'No!'

'Vod'ika,' Paz says measuredly, laying a hand on your shoulder. 'He's - ' You shrug him off, an idea forming in your mind. 'That's my riduur there,' you growl, voice low and wrathful. 'That's my fucking riduur. I know what to do, vod. Don't try and stop me.'

Amused, he huffs. 'That's my vod'ika.'

You turn to Bo-Katan, and you swear that the strength of your glare melts the beskar straight off her face. 'If you don't use that fucking Darksaber to get through the bloody door, I'll challenge you for it. Right now.'

She cocks her head; maybe she's surprised by the venom in your voice, or maybe she senses the undercurrent of desperation, but she obliges your words, cutting through the blast door. Darkly, Paz chuckles, cracking his knuckles, ready to fight again as the troopers turn their attention back to you, some of them jumping a little as if they forgot that there's a small army of wrathful Mandalorians behind the blast doors, their honours smarting from the sight of Imperials in their home world. Glancing at Paz, you give him a nod - he knows what to do, he's seen your stupid manoeuvres during the hunts you've been on together. He returns the gesture, and once you turn back, Bo-Katan has a hole through the blast door.

'Ready, vod?' You ask, checking the whistling birds on your vambrace. 'As always,' he answers.

You don't hesitate. You know he's got you covered, so you just dive straight through the hole, activating your whistling birds in a heart beat as Paz sticks the barrel of his blaster out, taking out any remaining troopers as you advance. Vaguely, you're aware of Gideon pressing a few buttons on his vambrace and shooting upwards, borne by his jetpack; you're aware of Paz slipping through the hole behind you, but you're not here for them. You're here for your riduur.

'Din,' you gasp, skidding to a halt in front of him.

'Cyar'ika,' he greets, and you hear the gratitude in his voice as he clutches you tightly to his body. 'He's calling for back up. We have to go.'

You turn your head to Paz. 'Vod?'

'Behind you,' he replies.

Bundling Din through the opening in the blast doors, you turn to follow him, but something tells you to glance back. Your heart drops. Paz stands there, his infantry gun ready, and you recognise the determined set of his shoulders with a settling feeling of dread drifting over you; you grab his arm, tugging him backwards, but he's stubborn as always, shaking you off and jerking his head towards the others.

'Go.'

You snarl. 'Not without you, vod.'

'You won't make it unless someone delays them,' he answers, tilting his head up at the sound of more jetpacks. 'They're almost here.'

'Who fucking cares,' you snap. 'I'll stay with you, then. We can hold them off.'

'Din waits for you, vod'ika. Go to him.'

'And leave you? My vod? Nice try.'

'He's my vod too,' he replies, voice level. 'I do this for both of you. Better me than you two, for your kid's sake.'

'And what of Ragnar?' You ask, desperation leaking into your voice.

'Tell him I love him.'

'Vod,' Din calls. 'Get back here, di'kut. What do you think you're doing?'

Suddenly, Paz grabs you, and you yelp in surprise as he physically shoves you through the opening in the blast door and into Din's arms. He stands in front of the hole, blocking it with his legs and body, and you grunt in frustration, knowing that he's won but not ready to let him go; you know he's right, you know he's doing this because he loves you and your riduur, but it still fucking hurts. It still hurts as he begins to fire at the first Stormtroopers coming into land, it still hurts as Bo-Katan begins to usher the other Mandalorians back, it still hurts as your riduur's arms tighten around you, holding you back.

'If you love me, don't let them go,' Paz yells at Din. 'I love you, my vod. I love you, my vod'ika.'

He hurls himself into the midst of the Stormtroopers, and as he does, he takes a bleeding piece of your heart with him. You hear Din's shuddering breath, feel the way his grip strengthens around you, and you swallow thickly, eyes smarting - it's like digging shards of glass into your heart to take your riduur's hand and run, but you do anyway, tears streaking down your face from under your helmet.

His song's been written, you tell yourself. His song has been written.

You find that you're saying it out loud, and maybe Din is saying it along with you, his fingers clenching around your own as the two of you run, away from your vod, a brave man who fights with deadly strength and honour, a loving father who protected his son with his life, and a brother, in spirit if not in blood. Grief blends with the burning hatred in your heart; you curse Gideon for orphaning Ragnar, for taking away your friend and your brother, for spilling yet another Mandalorian's blood.

Once you stop running, you vow with Din that you'll avenge him. His death will not be in vain.

Paz Vizsla's song has been written.

But yours has not.

#paz vizsla #star wars #the mandalorian #sad #angst #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic #grogu #baby ypda #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x you #din x you #din x y/n #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n

20 notes · View notes