That damn teal armor! I
A Din Djarin x Transmasc Mando Reader Story
Major spoilers for The Mandalorian Season 3 ahead!
Masterlist
Series summary: Din adopts not only Grogu but Ragnar too after the events on Mandalore. This is The Way. The three of them are living their little life in the cabin on Nevarro when you arrive, claiming the right to raise Ragnar because you are Paz’s younger sibling, who has been away for years, reuniting the other Mandalorians scattered around the galaxy. But there's something else: while you were apart from the tribe, you transitioned to be a man. Would Din recognize you? Could you get to an agreement and raise the boy together? Wrong! There's a problem: Din kriffing hates your guts.
Warnings: Reader is a trans man, goes by he/him pronouns, and had top surgery; angst, humor, and fluff; slow burn; pinch of enemies to lovers; eventual smut +18; grief and mourning; happy ending.
Series word count: 16k+
Chapter word count: 2087
Read it on Ao3
Author's note: Hello Din Djarin cult, I hope you're doing well. I'm still busy trying to stabilize my financial status, so I haven't been active. But I've been writing this for myself, and today I decided it was time to share it. There are very few Din Djarin x Male Reader fics out there, and even fewer for the transmasc folks. So in a moment of need, I had to write this to stay afloat. Currently, I have 8 finished chapters and drafted 18, so strap on for the trip!
Chapter I: The other Vizsla
“He had a warrior’s death.” You were sitting in the temporary forge, trying not to sob under the helmet. Paz was your big brother, and now, he was gone. The Armorer put a gloved hand in your teal pauldron. “You have done a great job reuniting the clans out there, you may rest for a while.” You nodded and got up from the crate you were sitting on.
“Wait, what about Ragnar, how’s…” You had been far away for years, but in one of your rare holocalls, Paz had spoken to you about the little boy with pride. And now he was all alone without his buir.
“Din Djarin has taken the youngling under his wing,” she declared, grabbing her tongs to start her work again. “You should talk to him, he’s trying to be strong, but he’s just a kid.”
Your jaw dropped under the helmet. Din kriffing Djarin had adopted your niece? Last time you checked, the guy was a laserbrain and a reckless, ruthless bounty hunter. And you were…a very differen person too. You felt how your blood started to boil inside you.
“I’ll do it, thank you, Armorer.” Tightening your fist, you stormed out of the forge, looking for the offending Mandalorian who had adopted Ragnar without checking with you.
After wandering for a while between the camp, you didn’t find a trace of him, so you decided to ask around. Reuniting the clans meant that a lot of Mandalorians from different backgrounds and customs were together under the same roof, so you could always find warriors wrestling here and there. It was chaos, but you liked it. The clans you had brought with you were starting to mix with the other ones and getting into fights: it was the first step towards blending. After asking some of the Mandalorians, a blonde Mandalorian woman, who didn’t cover her face as your clan, revealed to you the location of Djarin. She also warned you about the reserved nature of the man, who didn’t like to be bothered, especially at his own home, but if you wanted something, it was to annoy Din Djarin.
You borrowed a speeder bike and went to look for the little cabin the woman had described. The lava flats were barren but beautiful, and with the protection of your helmet, the dust didn’t get into your lungs, so you enjoyed the ride. It was recognisable even in the distance, the cabin stood on the horizon on the outskirts of Nevarro City. It was kind of cute, and a place you would never have imagined for Din. In the past, he didn’t look like the settling-up type. Maybe he had gotten old?
The first thing you noticed was the two little figures next to a pond. One of them was wearing a teal helmet like yours, shiny and new. You were aware that Ragnar had just sworn the creed when Paz died. It had to be pretty traumatic for the poor kid. Parking the speeder bike at a prudent distance, you approached the cabin, observing that Din was nowhere to be seen. But you forgot about him soon, because something else caught your eye. Ragnar was playing with another creature. You were aware of the foundling Din had adopted, but didn’t know a lot about them. The kid next to Ragnar was green and sported huge ears. Apparently, your niece was telling them something hilarious because their little teeth showed in a giggle. Weird, but kinda cute. You were ready to speak to the children when you felt our breath abandon you.
“Don’t dare to make another step.” A rough baritone voice, a strong forearm pressing your windpipe, and a blaster digging into your lower back. Did he not recognize you? Well, even if he did, he had his motives to aim a blaster at you.
“It’s good to see you too, Din Djarin,” you said just before kicking him on the shin and turning in your heels to disarm the bounty hunter. The surprise factor being on your side, it was easy to have him in his hands in a matter of seconds. After all, your voice was raspier, lower, and you could tell he was startled.
“Vizsla,” he hissed like a reptile, feeling the venom of his stare through the visor. You stood nonchalantly, towering over him while you twirled his blaster in your hand.
“I may keep this.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked drily, getting on his feet, but without addressing the bantha in the room. You took a second to assess the novelties in his appearance. The shiny armour, the signet. The nerf herder looked even broader.
“Looking smart, Djarin. Things have been working out for you?” He grabbed his blaster from your gloved hand and put it back in the holster.
“Why are you here?” He repeated, ignoring your question. Okay, straight to the point then.
“I came to speak to Ragnar.” You crossed your arms against your chest plate, trying to look intimidating.
“You’re a stranger to him.”
“But he is my niece.”
“That doesn’t give you any right over him,” he deadpanned. The man was as annoying as always.
“Look, I know you were pissed about me leaving, but I just want to talk to him. He may not know who I am, but we both have lost the same person.” Your voice became a little strangled, and you could tell Did had noticed with how he tilted his head.
“About that…I’m-”
“Save it up, Djarin,” you respond, suddenly defensive before the prospect of being vulnerable in front of him. He changed his weight to the other leg, and you looked away, both uncomfortable. After all, it was the first time you had seen each other after you left the covert, except for that time that’s better left forgotten…Well, things weren’t going to be easy.
“I’ll speak to him,” he surrendered after a deep sigh. “Wait inside.”
You obeyed and walked towards the cabin while he went to the kids. Not wanting to admit it, but you felt nervous. You weren’t a stranger to taking care of kids. While reuniting the clans, you had to deal with a lot of foundlings and younglings running around your ship. Taking a liking to them, little mischievous creatures.
The interior of the cabin was as barren as the lava flats, and you didn’t expect anything different from Din. However, toys were scattered here and there, and a nice fluffy carpet lay on the floor, giving the place the warmth his owner lacked. How had the covert confided in Din with two kids? You didn’t have a lot more time to think insulting stuff about him, because the hunter appeared at the door with his hand behind Ragnar’s back and the little green thing in the crook of his arm. This close, you noticed that the critter looked like a baby. You waved awkwardly, but Ragnar didn’t reciprocate. To your surprise, the green bean did, and you chuckled to yourself. What a curious kid.
“We’ll give you privacy, let’s go, Grogu,” Din said, and then he left the cabin with the little one, leaving Ragnar alone. So the kid’s name was Grogu.
“Hi, uhm… You don’t know me but…I’m your buir’s brother.” You gave him your name and then sat to look less menacing. “I’m so glad to meet you. Paz spoke a lot about you. He was so proud.” The kid lowered his helmet, and you felt so bad for him. “I just came here to tell you…you’re not alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have Din and Grogu.” Ragnar finally spoke, and it was like you were struck by lightning. You knew he didn’t mean bad, but you were feeling sensitive. And you may or may not have had some expectations about how this was going to be.
“Yeah, of course! I just wanted to tell you that you have more family, and I’ll be sticking around in case you need me.” Ragnar nodded politely, and you approached him with care, then you knelt to be closer to his height. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ragnar. I loved Paz a great deal and I can tell you did too.” He nodded again, and you could tell he was trying not to cry. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he flinched for a moment before starting to sob. Your heart broke into a thousand pieces, and you wanted to hug him, but you just rubbed your thumb, caressing him.
“Your armour…is just like his,” he managed to say between hiccups.
“Yeah, because we’re Clan Vizsla and one day you’ll have one identical,” you explained softly, on the verge of tears too. The kid nodded, and after a while, he calmed himself. “Let’s go find Din and Grogu, okay?
You found them not far from the pond. Din was crouching next to Grogu, and it looked like he was teaching his oldest son to balance rocks to make a little tower.
“You have to choose the flat ones, you see?” The man demonstrated it by grabbing a flat volcanic rock and putting it on top of the construction. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Ah!” Grogu turned around and with his little claw he chose an interesting-shaped rock. Din sighed, and you had to restrain yourself to avoid laughing. The scene was both cute and hilarious. Your brain still couldn’t reconcile that the murderous man you met the last time was the same one you had in front of you. Din then noticed you and straightened from his crouching position.
“I’ll help you,” Ragnar said, and he left your side before locking his visor with you one more time. “Look, if you put this rock here, everything on top will fall…” The teal-helmeted kid explained, demonstrating how physical laws work to the small one.
“Ooooooh!” Grogu cooed, eyes huge with realization. He then picked a more suitable stone, and Ragnar nodded in acknowledgment.
“It looks like they get on well,” you commenced, hands on your hips, while he approached you on the porch.
“Well, you should see them at dinner time…” His voice was that of a tired dad, but there was a spark of affection and pride there that you didn’t miss. Din Djarin loved his kids.
“Haven’t you looked for…help?”
Din tilted his head but said nothing. It was normal that you wanted to know about your niece, wasn’t it? “They train every day with the other kids…Greef Karga keeps an eye on Grogu if I’m off-planet, he knows how to manage him…and Ragnar stays with the covert.”
You changed your weight and crossed your arms over your chest plate. “I meant help from a riduur, Din.”
His back straightened, and he locked his visor with yours, looking threatening. Now, this was more like the man you used to know.
“That’s not your business, Vizsla,” he practically hissed, obviously trying not to be heard by the boys.
“It is if you’re out of your depth in this,” you hissed back, adopting a defensive stance. By no means did you have the violent relationship Paz and Din shared, but you were as hot-blooded as your brother and knew Djarin was up for a fight too. He despised you, after all.
“After all, that’s what you want, taking him with you?”
“He should be with his clan.”
“He should be whenever he’s most comfortable! He’s suffered a great loss!” Your voices were becoming louder, and your fists were tight under the gloves. Your body was screaming: fight him.
“We are Mandalorians, haven’t we all suffered great losses?” Din actually growled at this. He looked as on edge as you.
“Ragnar is not going with an inconstant, unstable, hothead uncle who can’t even take care of himself!” Okay, so maybe he was a bit remorseful about last time. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you hurt by his venomous words.
“That’s not up to you to decide.” And with that, you turned around and returned to the camp, trying to walk as your insides weren’t churning.
Inconstant, unstable, hothead uncle?
Who can’t even take care of himself?
You stopped in your tracks for a second without turning. Din had used masculine pronouns with you. You tightened your fists.
Did someone tell him? Did he assume it? Or maybe he did know all along?
Confusion mixed up with anger, your armor weighing more than ever, one question drilling your skull.
Why didn’t he say something?
Next chapter
