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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

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Chapter 5: How the Paintball Battle Was Won

Links to Chpt. 4 , Chpt. 6

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Canonical violence, PTSD for the reader, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: ~6400

Author’s note: So this chapter gets more angsty, but I promise it is sandwiched in there between some humor and some serious fluff along with some Domestic!Din thrown in there for good measure. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter! (Also, smut is coming in the next chapter for those of you who are thirsty for it.)

“Paintball?” You look up at Mando in surprise, “Isn’t this a game for teenagers?” He’s brought you to a dusty town on Baros with a few hole-in-the-wall cantinas and a sleepy looking marketplace in the middle of nowhere to play paintball?

“I wasn’t sure if it would still be here, but they’re open,” Mando sounds chipper. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“You used to come here and play paintball?” The idea seems ludicrous, that Mando, a seasoned warrior and top bounty hunter, would be playing a game that requires shooting brightly colored balls of paint at your opponents.

“When I was younger and first in the Fighting Corps, we trained here on Baros for a time. We used to sneak out when we had breaks between training sessions to come and play with the local kids.” Mando’s voice sounds nostalgic and happy as he remembers his youth. “I’m sure now that our commanders knew what we were up to, but it gave us additional fighting practice, so I don’t think they minded.”

You try to imagine Mando as a teen boy stealing away with his friends from a probably rigid training schedule to play fake war games with other kids. It’s a charming thought, but it’s hard to picture when you look at the man now. But he’s right, it would have been decent training too… oh, now you understand.

“This is so I can practice shooting live, moving targets.” You’re on to his plan.

“What?” Mando is all innocence, “I just thought since we’re here, we ought to have some fun.”

“I know you think I can’t tell, but I feel you smirking at me under there.” You tell him pointing towards the helmet.

Mando simply chuckles at you and gives your hand a tug towards the entrance.

“What about the baby?” You ask, hoping to stall a little, “He can’t play paintball.”

“He’ll be safe in his pram, and you’ll have a chance to practice protecting him too.” Mando replies. He’s clearly thought this out.

“That might be too advanced for me to focus on shooting targets and guarding the child,” you tell him.

“Yes, but I’ll be here to help you.” His voice sounds warm as he tells you, “You’re going to be great, c’mon.”

The owner of the paintball place seems delighted to see Mando and tells the rest of the patrons in the prep area that they are in for a real treat today. Most of the other people here are teenaged boys, but you’re surprised to see a couple of adults here too including a few other women. Perhaps you were too quick to judge. The teen boys are in sheer awe of Mando and after they openly gawk at him for a few minutes, they’re pestering the owner to find out if they can request that Mando be on their team.

“Teams will be by random draw as always, although people paying together will automatically be put on the same team unless they request otherwise.” The owner tells everyone waiting. “Now, please enter the locker area to suit up and stow away personal belongings.”

You’ve been given protective gear and a helmet to wear to ensure your safety during the game. While the paintballs aren’t lethal, they can still hurt quite a lot without protection. Mando watches as you gear up, and when you’re done you can’t help but goof around and strike a model pose.

“How do I look?” You can still manage to make flirty eyes at him, as although your helmet covers most of your face, the visor only has light tinting so your eyes are still quite visible.

“You’re adorable,” he tells you. It’s been a little over a week since your trip to Canto Bight and your first Keldabe kiss with Mando, and he’s been growing more affectionate with you, particularly with compliments. He’s still rather shy about physical affection though, almost as if he thinks he’s limited to only a certain number of touches a day.

“Ok, everyone, let’s go over the rules.” The owner calls everyone to his attention and reviews the rules of the game, which are basically, if you get shot three times in a ‘critical target area’ as indicated on your protective gear, you are out of the game.

“Today’s game is your basic brawl. The last team with the most players remaining when the buzzer sounds will be the winners. However, we have a special guest and special rules that will add to the challenge!” The man gestures towards Mando, “If you want to take out the Mandalorian, you need three hits somewhere not on the armor, and good luck with that!” The man says it in such a way that he’s confident no one will be able to get Mando out of the game.

Before the game begins, you check on the child to make sure he’ll be ok. He has his favorite silver ball and a couple other toys with him in his pram, and you’ve tucked in few snacks that he likes in case he gets hungry.

“Ok, sweetie, you’re going to play with your toys and keep the pram closed until Mando or I open it,” you tell him. He coos at you in response and you give his nose a little boop before securing the pram.

“Here, put this on,” Mando hands you a metal wrist cuff with various buttons, “It’s linked to the pram like my vambraces, so that way the child will follow you wherever you go.” He quickly shows you how the buttons operate.

You and Mando get assigned to the red team and are issued paintball guns filled with the appropriate colored balls. There are three teen boys, a man, and another woman on your team. The teen boys are vibrating with excitement at being on Mando’s team; they keep calling him ‘sir’ and asking for ‘battle advice’. Mando is very kind to them, and answers all of their questions in a serious manner. It’s quite sweet really, how nice he is to them, but you’ve noticed that’s generally who he is, so long as that person cannot be perceived as a threat. With your team agreeing on Mando’s plans for the battle, followed by a loud war cry whoop from the boys, you head out to your designated starting positions.

Your adrenaline is pumping and when a loud bell rings out to indicate the start of the game, you’re almost as keyed up as the teenagers around you. Mando’s plan calls for your team to be on the defensive and wait for the other teams to come to you, allowing you all to maintain better positions and hold on to better cover for as long as possible. It’s a good plan and fairly soon, some of the teen boys from the green team have charged over to your area recklessly, making them easier targets. You get off a couple shots, but your nerves get the best of you and you miss wildly. Fortunately, only Mando seems to notice as your other teammates are on target and dispatch the boys without anyone on your team getting hit.

“It’s alright, just breathe,” he tells you, “Remember you’re a good shot, I know you are.” He places a hand between your shoulders and rubs lightly to help calm you down. He points towards something moving in the bushes to your right and taps your shoulder. You can see another player advancing towards your position.

“Aim your weapon, take a deep breath,” Mando instructs you, “and shoot.” You pull the trigger and watch as your paintball splatters bright red on the other player’s chest plate. You remember quickly that you need two more shots to eliminate your target and so you shoot again. It ends up taking you five more shots but in the end, you’re victorious.

“I actually did it!” you squeal a little in delight and Mando gives your waist a small squeeze.

“Great job, cyar’ika!”

Hmm, there’s that foreign word again. It’s the second time he’s said it to you, and you think it must be Mando’a but you haven’t thought to ask him about it yet. You’re about to say something when a yellow paintball suddenly bursts on Mando’s left pauldron. You instantly whip your head around and fire off shots in the direction of the shooter. A sudden fierceness overtakes you in your determination to take out the player. You channel all your focus into your aim and once again, you are successful, only faster this time.

“That was even better,” Mando tells you, and your heart soars at his praise. He hasn’t even bothered to take a shot yet, he just seems content to watch you.

The game continues and it seems that the other players have caught on to your team’s plan, which leads to a break in the action. Everyone huddles together for a moment, and you realize the rest of your team are waiting for Mando’s instructions.

“So, Mando, what do we do next?” you ask him.

“What do you think our strategy should be?” he counters.

“Well, it seems like we’ve taken out quite a lot of the green team, so I say we head towards the yellow team’s area and try to lower their numbers more.” You figure this is the best way to ensure that your team will have the most active players in the end.

“Why don’t we finish off the green team first? You know, get them while they’re weak,” one of the other players suggests.

“No, her plan makes the best sense,” Mando says in support of your idea, “If we want to be the winners, we have to make sure the yellow team has more casualties.” There’s something about the way he says this that gives you a sense of pride. He’s not just going along with your suggestion because he likes you, it’s because he trusts your judgement and he agrees with it.

You set out in an attack formation as directed by Mando in search of the yellow team. He’s stationed you towards the rear of the group allowing the child’s floating pram to stay behind you, meanwhile he’s positioned himself at the front as an attractive target. You don’t love the idea of Mando making himself the bait, but you recognize that his strategy is logical as the challenge of taking out the Mandalorian will be too tempting for the others to pass up on and thus it should be easier for the rest of you to hit them.

The plan works perfectly and as a barrage of paintballs are launched in Mando’s direction, your team begins methodically targeting the yellow team. You try not to watch as more yellow paint splashes onto Mando’s beskar, because each time it does you feel a spike of irrational anger, how dare they shoot at your Mando. As for himself, Mando is finally shooting off paintballs of his own, but you get the impression that he’s doing so rather leisurely, like he’s not really putting in too much effort. Must be taking it easy on everyone.

Things seems quiet for a moment and you turn to check on the little guy’s pram. It’s still closed up and he’s safe and sound. You’re just turning back to look over your shoulder when a green paintball hits you in the side, right where there’s no padding. It’s surprisingly painful and you double-over, grasping at your side. Mando’s reaction is swift. He quickly dispatches the green shooter and then rushes over to you.

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” His voice is full of concern.

“I’m fine,” you wheeze out, “just stings.”

“Take a moment and breathe,” he says as he tucks his left arm around you to hold you close to him while he proceeds to keep shooting with his right. It suddenly strikes you as incredibly attractive how he’s managing to comfort you and still fight at the same time.

You can’t keep yourself from telling him, “Maker, you’re hot.”

“What?” He looks down at you for a second, a little surprised.

“Nothing, I’m just impressed by you.” You laugh a little and pull away so you can go back to the game.

The game continues for a while longer and you’re astounded by how much you’ve gotten into it. You no longer feel nervous about shooting at other people and you’re caught up in wanting to help your team win. You get hit a couple more times, but luckily they manage to miss the critical targets so when the buzzer sounds, you’ve managed to be one of the ‘survivors’. You run over to Mando to assess his ‘damage’ and while he has yellow and green paint splotches all over his beskar, he has only one green spot on his arm in the unarmored section near his elbow, which means that no one managed to successfully remove him from the game either. After a brief count, your team is announced as the victors by just one player. Your whole team cheers and exchanges high fives as you congratulate each other.

“See, I told you it would be fun,” Mando leans down close to you, “You were great, I was impressed too.” He brings his helmet down to touch the crown of yours.

You don’t have a chance to say anything back as the teen boys are at Mando’s side begging him to take a holophoto with them. Mando dutifully poses with the boys as you help out by acting as the photographer. You pull out your own holopad and snap a few holos too for your own enjoyment later.

You return to the locker room to get cleaned up and back into your regular clothes. You’re securing your holster belt with its real blaster when you realize again how thankful you are that Mando’s gone out of his way to help you learn so much about fighting, even to the point where he found a way to make sure it would be enjoyable.

You head over to where he’s cleaning the paint off his armor with a bucket of water and some rags. It must be a bit hard to do though because there’s no mirror to help him see all the areas that need to be cleaned. You pick up one of the rags.

“Have a seat and I’ll help you get cleaned up,” you say as you motion to a bench.

“Thanks, it’s hard to do without being able to take it off,” he tells you.

He sits with his legs akimbo and you step between them to get better access to the beskar. Fortunately, the paint washes off without much effort, but there’s so much of it and you want to be sure to get it out of the small ridges and furrows of the armor.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him as you clean, “It really was fun and I think you’re right, it was good training.”

“You’re welcome,” Mando says warmly, and he brings his hands up to your hips to pull you in a little closer. He leaves his hands there as you move to clean his helmet and begins tracing little patterns with his thumbs. His touch is simple, but it makes you feel so fluttery inside. You look down at his visor and give him a little smile as you wipe a streak of gloopy green paint from the crown of his helmet.

“It drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he tells you with his hands tightening on your hips.

“How am I looking at you?” Your smile widens.

“Like you have a secret and you’re daring me to find out what it is,” he says, his voice sounding deeper.

You chuckle, and as you finish cleaning his helmet you drop your lips down and give it a kiss, “Is that so?” you ask in a coquettish tone and you give him a wink.

Mando groans at you and pulls you in closer, “I’ve had enough being in public, let’s get back to the Crest,” he says. His words and the timbre of his voice fill you with dark excitement, and you nod your head in response.

You bid goodbye to your teammates and hurry out into the street, heading in the direction of the ship. You’re only a short distance from the Razor Crest when you hear a laser bolt whiz past you. You draw your blaster and turn towards the source of the bolt where you see five armed men bearing down on you, Mando, and the child. “Hunters!” Mando shouts to you as he returns fire.

Another blast comes from behind you and you whip around to see three more shooters trying to box you in. Like Mando, you shoot back, your fight mode coming out in full force. You manage to shoot one of the hunters in the chest and you see him fall. You don’t dwell on it though as you scan the area for a possible escape route. You feel Mando tug on your sleeve as he gestures to the left where you can see a small side street. You rush towards the street as fast as you can while Mando provides cover. You’re still wearing the wrist cuff from before so the baby’s pram is following after you. You feel a sharp burning sensation in your side and it almost knocks you to the ground, but your determination to get away is stronger and you push your legs to keep you running.

The narrow street spills out into a broader avenue that is now bustling with activity. You bump into people as you try to get away and it makes you stumble. You look around wildly for help but everyone seems oblivious to your distress. The baby’s pram is still right with you and you’re relieved to see it’s still closed up tightly. But where is Mando? You thought he was right behind you but now you don’t see him anywhere. You turn back to the narrow side street when you see one of the hunters come barreling out of it. He fires several bolts in your direction, one of which ricochets off the pram. People scream and scatter. A primal protectiveness surges within you as all you can think about is how you won’t let this man hurt your child and so you raise your blaster and shoot him twice in the chest. He falls to the ground, but something in you won’t let you stop. You keep moving toward him until you’re standing over him and then you shoot him in the head to make sure he can’t hurt either of you. You should probably feel guilty about killing him, but you don’t. You look down the street, worried that you’ll see another hunter heading your direction, but it seems quiet. You pant as you try to catch your breath and now you realize just how badly your side is hurting, you think it must be from before where the paintball hit you but when you look down you see your shirt is soaked with blood. You sag against a building as you realize you’ve been shot. A woman sees you and hurries over to help,

“We have to get you to a doctor right away,” she’s saying.

“Wait, I need Man-, I need to find Man- Mando.” The pain is making it hard to speak.

“It’s alright, your child’s pram is right here.” She doesn’t understand.

You sway on your feet and she quickly places an arm around you to help you walk. “Don’t try to talk, dear,” she’s telling you as she drags you towards a medical clinic. Everything is getting blurry and you fight to stay upright. When you make it inside the clinic, someone immediately pushes you towards a gurney and you collapse on it just before you black out.

Din is desperate to find you and the child. When he sent you down that side street, he succeeded in taking down most of the hunters. But one particularly large man, a Clawdite, had managed to tackle Din. That allowed another hunter to slip by and head down the street in pursuit of you. After stabbing the Clawdite, Din quickly trails the other man. His head is filled with worse case scenarios but when he finds the body at the end of the street, a sense of relief comes over him. It’s short-lived, however, when he realizes neither you nor the child are anywhere to be seen. Din can feel true fear rising in him that perhaps there were others and maybe you were both captured, when he remembers the wrist cuff he gave you and the tracking device he installed within it. He breathes a sigh of relief again when he pings your signal and realizes you’re nearby.

Din tracks your signal to the medical center, the sight of which makes his blood run cold because if you’re here that means that one of you must be hurt. He rushes inside but before he can ask anyone about you or the baby, he hears a frightened scream and then your voice shouting,

“NO! NO! Get away from me! NO!”

Din is back in full combat mode as he hurries towards the sound of your terrified voice. He finds you in a room with a round floating medical droid trying to administer an injection. You are curled up on the floor in a corner of the room with your hands over your face as you cry out in fear. Din shoves the droid out of the room forcefully before carefully approaching your huddled form.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s me, it’s Mando,” he says as he tentatively reaches out to you. “The droid is gone, and I’m here.”

You sob something that sounds like ‘Mando’ and launch yourself into his arms. You’re still crying hard when you get out the word, ‘baby’. Din looks around the room and thankfully he sees the child’s pram. He manages to reach the open button on his vambrace and the pram’s dome opens up to reveal the little one safe inside. The baby looks concerned at your distress and he lets out a sad-sounding coo.

“He’s alright, cyar’ika, the baby is safe, you did so wonderful protecting him.” Din holds you and runs a hand over your back, and he continues to whisper soothing words trying to calm you. A noise at the door causes him to look up and see two nurses there who are trying to figure out what all the commotion is.

“Sir, who are you and why is this patient out of her bed?” one of the nurses asks indigently.

“She’s terrified of that droid, you can’t let it near her again,” Din says, scooping you up in his arms and helping you back to the bed.

“Alright,” the other nurse says in a kinder tone, “but you can’t be back here unless you’re family.”

“I’m her husband,” Din snaps, knowing they won’t argue with that, “Now can someone tell me what happened?” His voice is demanding and rough.

“I’m sorry, sir, your wife was shot in the side,” the kinder nurse explains, “She’s lucky because the bolt missed her vital organs but she will need some time to heal. The droid was only going to give her a bacta shot.”

“She’s scared of that droid,” Din repeats, “Can’t one of you give it to her?” His tone of voice makes it clear that it’s a demand not a request.

“Maybe she’s just scared of the shot,” the indigent nurse says, a slight scoff to her tone.

“The shot is fine, just please not the droid,” you manage to say in a weak voice. You look at Din as you explain, “The Empire used medical droids for torture.”

Din remembers how you told him you were punished by the Imps when they discovered your sabotage, but you’ve never gone into details about that punishment. He has some idea now what they must have done to you, and why seeing another droid like that would cause such a negative response.

“No more droids are to come into this room,” Din instructs the nurses.

“Of course, sir, I’ll give her the shot myself,” the kinder nurse tells him, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Din turns back to you and reaches up to smooth the tears from your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

“Will you please stay with me?” you ask and you grip his hand tightly as if he might disappear.

“Nothing could make me leave you,” he says as he caresses your face.

A soft whine floats over to Din and you from the pram as the little one wants to know what’s happening. Din steps away from your side to quickly pick him up and bring him over to the bed with you. At first Din tries to just hold him close to you, but the child isn’t satisfied with that. Instead, he quickly climbs out of Din’s arms and onto the bed to nestle up against your chest, he then reaches up to touch your face with his little hand.

“Hi, buddy,” you say softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Din watches the two of you as a vast sense of gratitude washes over him; he’s so very thankful that you both are safe now and no lasting damage has been done. He holds your hand again and brings his helmet down to your head allowing him to watch over you and the child as close as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, you are doing much better after the bacta shot has done its work and the medical center releases you to go home. Din swipes a hoverchair and quickly steers you back to the Razor Crest; he insisted that you shouldn’t walk all the way back to the ship. Once on board again, he gets you safely tucked into your bed still with the child cuddled up against your side. The little guy refuses to leave you alone and even demanded to ride in your lap on the way back to the ship instead of returning to his pram.

With the three of you safely in space, Din returns to the hull. He’s pleased to see you’re resting comfortably as you talk softly to the child and he sets about to prepare some dinner for the three of you. It’s been hours since any of you have eaten and he’s sure you must be hungry. Din’s not as good a cook as you are, but he tries to add the little touches that you do for him like cutting up the fruit and arranging it on a plate, and adding honey to your tea the way that you like. When he brings your dinner over to you, he notices that the child has managed to use his powers to bring several of his stuffed toys over to your bed and he seems to be arranging them around you for additional snuggling.

“You’re doing a great job as a caregiver, buddy,” Din tells him chuckling.

“I keep telling him he’s being so sweet sharing his plushies with me,” you respond with a soft chuckle of your own.

Din helps you sit up, before handing you the dinner tray.

“Do you need help eating?” He asks concerned.

“Nah, I’m fine, Mando,” you tell him, “Really I feel much better; I don’t think I need to be in bed anymore.”

“You’re staying in bed for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow too,” Din replies pointing his finger at you the way he does when he disciplines the child sometimes.

“Yes, Nurse Mando,” you reply cheekily.

“That’s right. Now eat your dinner before I feed you myself,” he says with a nod of his head.

After you’ve eaten, you’re still sitting up in bed and now you’re playing a little with the child and his plush toys as you tell him a story. Din can hear in your voice though that you’re tired and even though he knows you are doing better, you need your rest.

“Ok, kiddo, I think that’s the end of story time.” He comes over and picks up the child despite his little whines of protest.

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“No, you need to get more rest,” Din tells you, “Besides, it’s time to get this guy cleaned up before he goes to bed.”

You can hear the sounds of water running in the fresher and Mando saying “Don’t look at me like that, she needs to rest so she can get better,” and it makes you smile. Both of your guys are being so sweet as they take care of you. You stretch back out against your pillows and close your eyes, and before you know it, you’ve drifted off to sleep.

When you awaken a while later, you see Mando sitting on a crate near your bed reading something on his holopad. He’s taken off his armor and is now more relaxed in his undershirt, trousers, and helmet only.

“Mando, is everything alright, what are you doing?” You’re surprised he’s not in bed himself or up in the cockpit where he’d be more comfortable.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you needed something,” he tells you.

“That’s very sweet, Mando, but you must be getting tired,” you say.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replies. You know he can go for long stretches without sleeping, but it’s really not necessary now. Maybe there is a way you can get him to rest at least.

“You could come lie down with me,” you suggest and give him a small smile.

“There’s nothing I’d like better, but you’re hurt and you need to rest,” he says, but it’s clear from his tone that he’s tempted by your offer.

“I won’t do anything more than just cuddle with you, I promise,” you counter, and you give him the flirtatious look that you know he likes. It works like a charm and although he lets out one of his long-suffering sighs, he’s standing up and moving towards the bed.

“Alright, we’re just going to cuddle and you are going to rest and try not to move too much.” Mando may be trying to sound stern, but there’s an eagerness to his movements that gives away how much he wants to join you in the bed.

He lies down next to you on his back and puts his arm around you pulling you close to his side. You shift your position so that you can place your head on his chest and rest your hand on his stomach lightly. This way you can lie on your good side and take any pressure off the side that needs to heal. As you settle into him, Mando lets out a sound of contentment making his chest vibrate beneath you.

“Thank you, this is nice,” you tell him, “Plus, you’re so warm and cozy.”

He chuckles at that and rubs his large palm across your back, “It’s getting to where I can’t say no to you.”

“I see no problem with that,” you reply and you give his chest a kiss through his shirt.

“Mmm, I bet you don’t.” His chest rumbles again pleasantly against your cheek.

“Mando, I didn’t get a chance to really thank you earlier, but I want you to know you really helped me back at the med center.” You hope he understands how important he was for you in that moment.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, I could see how terrified you were and I knew you needed me.” Mando says softly and pulls you tighter to him. He pauses and then asks you, “When you said you were punished by the Imperials, did they… torture you with the droid?”

“Yes,” you tell him in a flat voice, “It would give various shots to induce different types of pain. It was horrible. Seeing that droid today felt like being back there, back in that terrible place. I- I don’t want to talk about it too much.”

“I understand,” Mando tells you, “I hate droids… well, there was one once who wasn’t so bad, but mostly I hate them.” His voice is gruff as he tells you this.

“Why do you hate them?” you ask.

“My home was destroyed by droids,” he says, “Everything was gone, my town, my friends, my parents, all killed.”

“Oh, Mando, how awful,” Your heart breaks for him, “That’s devastating. I’m so sorry for you.”

“I was only a child, and I would have been killed too if not for the Mandalorians who rescued me,” he explains.

“You were a foundling too,” you say softly.

“Yes,” he replies.

You’re quiet for a bit as you stroke his chest in a soothing manner. You know he’s supposed to be comforting you, but you want Mando to know that you’re here for him too. He brings his other hand up to cover yours. You realize that his glove is off and for the first time you are touching his bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation and you revel in each tiny movement that he makes as he slowly explores your fingers with his. His hand is large and warm, and you marvel at how delicate and gentle he is as he touches you.

“You skin is so soft, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, but then you can’t help but ask, “What does that word mean, cyar’ika?” He’s called you that a few times now and your burning curiosity can’t wait any longer.

Mando chuckles lightly, “Aren’t you the code-breaker? What do you think it means?”

“Oh, I see, a linguistic challenge, hmm?” You’re willing to play along and you take a moment to think.

“Well, you’ve used it in place of my name, so it could be a nickname, but based on context, I’d say it’s a term of endearment.” You lift your head up to look at him as you propose your theory.

“What do you mean?” He questions, intrigued.

“Well, if it were a nickname, I think you’d use it more frequently, and by my count you’ve only said it four times, which makes me think it must be more special than just a nickname. Plus I know you’ve said my name more often than that.”

“Oh?” He sounds amused.

“Yes, and when you said it was important too,” you explain, “Twice you said it when I was very distressed and you were sure to use a calming tone, but then, the other two times were when you gave me a compliment, and those times, you had a more romantic tone.”

He’s laughing openly now and shaking the whole bed as he does. Oh no, you’ve nerded him into hysterics, “Sorry, am I being too analytical?” you ask him sheepishly.

“No, no, I love how logical you’re being, cyar’ika,” he emphasizes the word again and his voice is caring as he tells you, “I’m impressed and entertained by how you think. I had no idea how much thought you’d put into it.”

“Well, am I correct though?” You’re still dying to know.

“Yes, you are,” he says between chuckles, and you smile up at him in response. He calms down a bit and then tells you, “It means sweetheart.” His voice is deeper as he says the word in Basic and you feel your stomach flutter in delight.

“I like that, Mando, I like it a lot; it’s such a beautiful word,” You wish you had a term of endearment for him that would sound even half as beautiful.

“Din,” he says to you.

“What?” you reply confused.

“My name is Din, Din Djarin,” he introduces himself to you, “I’d really like for you to call me by my real name.”

“It’s an honor to know you, Din Djarin,” you reply in as warm and loving a tone as you can, trying to show him how much it means to you that he’s sharing something so personal.

“The honor is all mine, cyar’ika,” he tells you and he squeezes your hand to punctuate his words, “You mean so much to me, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“I feel the same about you, Din.” Lying in his arms, it’s easy to tell him how you feel, and you realize how much you want him to hear it. “I was so worried when we were separated today, but when you found me, and I knew you were there, it just felt right, like I knew everything would be all right.”

Din pulls you in closer, hugging you as tight as he can without hurting you. He feels your arm snake around his waist to hold him tighter too and he feels a sense of true serenity. It’s a new emotion for him or at least one he hasn’t felt since he was very young. The two of you stay like that for a long time and as he listens to your breathing, he thinks perhaps you’ve fallen asleep. He relaxes his hold on you and thinks that maybe he should try to slip out of the bed so that you’ll rest properly, when he feels you stir.

“Din, will you teach me more Mando’a?” you ask, your voice sounding dreamy.

“Yes, but not tonight, you need to sleep,” he says softly but firmly.

“Ok, good,” you reply with a small yawn.

You settle back in to the bed a little and pull up the blankets around you more. Din starts to pull away from you little by little, but you’re having none of it and you grip him tighter.

“Are you trying to leave?” you ask, sounding only a little pouty, “Don’t you want to stay and cuddle?”

He sighs, “You need your rest, and I’m distracting you from that.”

“I’ll rest better with you here,” you insist.

“I’ll stay if you promise to go to sleep now,” he replies.

“Ok, I’ll go to sleep.” You’re quiet for a few seconds, but then you whisper to him, “Din?”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight,” you whisper, “I hope you sleep well.”

“Cyar’ika?”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

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Thank you so much for reading! Continue to Chpt. 6 Where no Mando Has Gone Before. If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

By the way, do you all remember that droid from a New Hope that gave Leia the shot? That’s the one I was thinking of when I came up with how the reader was punished by the Empire. That thing gave me nightmares for weeks when I was a child.

Tag list: @overtly-cuteashell @grogusmum @imabeautifulbutterfly @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

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nautiscarader · 4 years

Text

Wendip Week 7 - telling the truth

I was unable to come up with a story directly about not being able to lie, so I decided to put a spin on it.

(Ao3)

===

As the thunder rolled through the dark, gloomy skies outside the cozy wooden house, the young woman standing by the windows felt the weather couldn't have been more appropriate for the situation. She turned around and began walking back and forth past the living room, where four other people have gathered, each of them following her with intense stares.

Knowing she cannot delay this any longer, Mabel grunted and addressed her brother and his family.

- So, you are wondering why I have gathered you all there... - Not really - Dipper's son interrupted her - You asked us to sit here so you can do your detective spiel. - Was that from a movie, or something? - Emma continued - Didn't you guys have a cartoon where you were younger, or- - DUCK-TECTIVE WAS NOT A CARTOON!

The girl shrieked when Mabel slammed her fist against the wooden coffee table, her eyes filled with anger.

- IT WAS A MASTERPIECE OF STORYTELLING AND ANIMATION, AND IT IS A SHAME IT WAS CANCELLED AFTER ONLY NINE SEASONS!

Seeing the sheer terror in both Emma and Tyrone's eyes, as well as a bit of it in Dipper's and Wendy's, Mabel leaned back, fixed her coat, and resumed her act in much more subdued tone.

- So, as I was about to answer, I gathered you all here because I'm afraid that there is a force out there, ready to destroy your family. Our... family... - she spoke under her breath, looking ominously into the raging storm outside - I am talking of course...

She turned towards the four and eyed them with icy-cold, piercing gaze.

- ...about distrust! The one thing that can break even the toughest of bonds between the loved ones. Husband and wife, mother and daughter, brother and sister...

Mabel pointed to each of the members of Pines family, disregarding Dipper's and Wendy's confused stares that appeared on their faces when Mabel jumped onto the table.

- Tonight I have been contacted by a daughter of yours, who would like to remain anonymous...

The three other members of Pines family all turned towards Emma, eyeing her with accusatory looks.

- ...regarding a case of missing cookies!

Mabel dramatically revealed an empty jar she has been holding underneath her oversized, brown coat. Wendy, Dipper and Tyrone let out a collective groan.

- Okay, in my defence, I didn't know what she was gonna do - Emma quickly explained herself. - Mabel, do you really think it's necessary? - Dipper asked his sister - Yes, brother. - she turned sharply towards him - In fact, your reluctance suggests I should start with you...

She grabbed a flash-light and shone its beam directly into Dipper's eyes, making him cower and cover his eyes.

- Mabel! - Admit it, brother! - she leaned against him - It was you! everyone knows you have a sweet tooth! You can ask me! I can ask me! I have whole life of evidence against you...

She turned towards Wendy, whose lips curled into a smirk.

- Yeah, she's got a point there. - Come on! You know I'm trying to control my weight ever since we stopped running away from monsters on a weekly basis. - Dipper grumbled back - Besides, what kind of parent would I be, if I didn't follow the same rules that we set for our kids? - Interesting... - Mabel pondered for a while. - Then the next in line is... Wendy!

Mabel jumped in place once more, pointing at her sister-in-law with vindictive glare.

- How could you betray our trust? I had you for a friend all these years... - she spoke dramatically, her voice quivering with pretence emotions. - Mabel, you do know I don't like sweets that much. And I especially wouldn't eat a whole jar of them. - she rolled her eyes. - Again, bad role model for the kids. - The kids!

Mabel turned her attention to the two youngsters sitting next to each other.

- After your father, you are the most suspicious ones here... After all, all kids like their sweets... - Wow, we are honoured to be interrogated by the most brilliant of minds here. - Dipper rolled his eyes. - Hey, not your turn. - Mabel barked back - I'm gonna come back to you.

She pointed her beam at the red-haired boy.

- Tyrone, we all know you stay up late, don't you? Those late night gaming or study sessions make you hungry, don't they? - Well... sometimes... - Ah-ha! And here we have, an irrefutable proof that it was you, Tyrone, who ate the chocolate chip cookies! - Except we don't. - Emma added quickly.

At once, Mabel looked down at his sister, who interrupted her speech.

- We don't. He doesn't like chocolate chip cookies. He prefers hazelnut. - Is that true? - Yeah. I-I thought you knew. - the red-headed boy shied away.

Mabel scratched her chin, contemplating her next move.

- Hm. Now that I think about it, there is one more potentially guilty person in the room... - Mabel turned around, only to spin back and point at Emma - It was you! - Me? - Emma flinched - I was the one, who complained about lack of cookies! - Precisely! - Mabel spoke triumphantly - By drawing attention to it, you thought you could absolve yourself from any suspicions. You thought you could fool your own aunt, young lady, but alas! Your plan has been foiled... - Yeah, it has. Cos I wasn't even there.

Once again, Mabel has been thrown off balance by her suspect and looked at the cross-armed young girl.

- I've spent the whole day with you and aunt Pacifica! - she roared - We came late, I went to the kitchen and that's when I found out someone ate all the cookies. That was less than hour ago! - Well... looks like we have an impasse...

With a half-defeated expression on her face, Mabel turned around and began circling the family. And though her antics were over-the-top, every person in the room followed her, and listened to her words, as she clearly had an ace in the sleeve of her sweater.

- One of you have committed a heinous crime, yet no one of you would admit it... And this is why I brought this!

With a sudden turn, Mabel slammed something onto the coffee table, and only when she uncovered a box-like object, covered in vertical and horizontal labyrinthine-like patterns that began glowing as soon as light began shining on it. And while the kids were surprised and naturally gravitated towards it, Wendy and Dipper were utterly shocked.

- What the heck, Mabel? - Mabel! Where did you get it? - Oh, last time I was in California I might have visited a certain family that had magical connections... - Mabel smiled - And honestly, Star didn't really need this anymore, I mean last time they interrogated someone with it, and that was it... - Mabel, this is too much - Dipper interrupted her - This is Truth-Telling Box, I'm not gonna let you use it, especially with kids! This thing nearly destroyed those, who used it, because Star was too afraid to admit she has a crush on Marco! And honestly, I think you are making a mountain out of molehill. - Okay, enough!

Suddenly, Wendy's usually calm voice interrupts the quarrel that was about to engulf the twins. Mabel and Dipper looked at her, and after a while of uneasiness, Wendy spoke out, in a slightly quieter voice.

- Alright, I admit, it was me. - Whaaaat? - Emma and Tyrone exclaimed - You ate all the cookies? - But you said it yourself you don't like sweets that much. - Yeah... I usually don't...

Wendy looked away for a moment, and the rest watched as her cheeks turn crimson almost matching her auburn hair, while her lips curl into a soft smile.

- But you didn't notice the pickled jalapeños were missing as well.

She looked at Dipper, and as she spoke, his eyes grow wide and he dashed towards her, embracing her with a tight, long hug.

- Why didn't you tell me sooner? - he asked with a tears in his eyes - I wanted to be a surprise, especially for kids, you dork.

When he let her go, Mabel joined them with an even more expressive and tear-filled hug, leaving the two kids utterly dumbfounded.

- Uh, can anyone explain us what is going on? - Emma exclaimed - And why jalapeños are important all of a sudden?

The three adult chuckled, and Wendy reached to embrace her two kids, giving each of them a soothing kiss.

- You see, it's a bit of an old wives' tale, but it is sometimes true. If a woman has sudden taste swings, it's a sign she might be pregnant...

Only now, the siblings exchanged stunned looks and swarmed their mother, exchanging cries of joy. The two spoke over each other, asking if their mother knew if it was a boy or a girl, and already coming up with names, while Wendy tried to calm them down.

- Alright, alright, kids, it's still a long time until we get a new Pine in our tree. - she chuckled - Why don't we start planning on the details tomorrow, huh?

She turned towards Mabel and Dipper, watching her with the kids still by her side.

- And yeah, sorry for not telling you. - That's alright, that kind of surprises are the sweetest.

Dipper reached and kissed his wife, a gesture that for once did not result with their children sounding like they were about to puke. Dipper broke off the kiss and waved at Mabel, so she could join the enormous Pine hug-pile, and she eagerly jumped into the mix, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her extended family. At least until Dipper spoke out.

- Seriously, though, Mabel, what the heck was with bringing a MAGIC ARTIFACT to find missing cookies? - Oh, relax, don;t act like you haven't done something equally weird. - THAT IS TRUTH - spoke the Truth-Telling Box.

#Wendip #nautiscaraderfics #wendip week 2020

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fitzherbertssmolder · 5 years

Photo

Make Me A Masterpiece 2/?

In her final year of college, Rapunzel is struggling to create her final art project. That is until she runs into the beautiful stranger who’s hiding out in the library.

or the one where art student Rapunzel asks literature nerd Eugene to be her model (modern-day au)

ao3

If Eugene has learnt anything from his time living with Lance as his roommate, it's that the man has no respect for personal space.

Usually, he can deal with it when his morning routine gets interrupted by his roommate bursting into the bathroom with important news to tell. Or when he’s in the kitchen and has almost set Lance on fire when he’s attempted to squeeze himself between Eugene and the stove. Or even when he has insisted on sleeping on Eugene's floor and kept him awake all night by his loud snoring.

The point is that most of the time his complete ignorance for distance doesn’t bother Eugene.

But when his overly enthusiastic friend crowds him against the headrest after he's been awake for all of 5 minutes, that's when he draws the line. He’s not really the one to ask, but he is certain that there is a list of rules when sharing an apartment and he’s sure that not jumping into the others bed first thing in the morning is high on that list. He has missed him this past week sure, but this isn’t the roommate reunion he was looking for.

The sun has only just made its full appearance outside the window and that’s far too early for his first words of the day in his opinion.

"Do you have a death wish?" He grumbles, batting away the hands Lance has now insisted on using to pull the covers away from him.

"Why, do you have a thing for murder?"

He makes sure that the glare he gives off is almost certainly one that could kill. "Not usually, but today feels like the day for trying something new."

Lance, unsurprisingly, isn't fazed one bit by that threat and continues his fight to pry the covers away from his sleeping friend.

Oh, and on top of it all, he's smiling.

A broad, feral grin that Eugene is far too familiar with and knows that whatever has gotten Lance so riled up must be something life-changing. The mischievous glint in his eyes almost makes Eugene too scared to ask. He doesn’t get the chance to question his motives though before his roommate is opening his mouth again and further breaking up the silence of the once calm morning.

"You met a girl.”

It may be due to how foggy his brain still is from the lack of consciousness, but he wasn’t expecting that at all. The statement is simple, straight forward and said with the utmost excitement.

"You actually met a girl" he repeats, more to himself than to the actual person in question, and that feral smile grows into something more of disbelief.

"Lance-”

He tries to warn him, he really does, but his attempt is immediately squashed when he feels the space beside him become empty once more and sees Lance bounding into the middle of the room. There are cheers and whoops and what he thinks is a chant and-

-and now he's dancing.

It's 8 am and his roommate is smack bang in the centre of his room shaking his hips and waving his arms in a completely ungraceful manner. He comes too close several times to things Eugene has left sprawled on the floor that he is very concerned for his safety. However, it appears that his friend doesn’t share any of those same concerns as he has now introduced kicks into his routine. High kicks.

"My little Eugene is all grown up!" He carries on spinning in circles and fading into his own little world of Lance. It’s when he gets out a high-pitched squeal about little Eugene babies that he decides that that is just about enough for today.

"Lance" he demands again striding over to him and pulling him to a halt with two firm hands on his shoulders. "Lance buddy, I am saying this for your own safety. Please, please, stop-" he gives a pointed look up and down his body "-that."

A disapproving sigh slips out of Lance's mouth as he begins to shake his head furiously. "No can do Eugenie".

Eugenie grumbles at the nickname, eyes trailing his friend as he wiggles out of their current position and flops back onto the bed, which to Eugene’s dismay, is now vacant.

He kicks one of his legs onto the other and plants both hands behind his head. "This is the first time you've ever talked about a girl and as your best friend I'm obligated to annoy you about it."

At this moment in time, Eugene is very quickly realizing that sending a text to Lance last week with the simple admission "I met a girl" was a huge mistake.

Unfortunately for him, however annoying he's being about this, he is also very correct. Throughout his time in college, Eugene's love life has been more along the lines of a blank space type of situation. It's not like he's had that many opportunities to delve into the dating world, what with hiding in the library and all, and it’s not as if he doesn’t want to date, but just that he would rather be at home with a good book.

But for some reason, Rapunzel is just different. With only 5 minutes of awkward conversation, and even more awkward staring, she is already infiltrating every one of his thoughts. When he got home from the library that night, he spent the next few hours on every social site he could think of to try and track her down feeling very thankful that Lance was out of town. It was almost 2 am by the time he had come across her on Instagram after a long stalking session, although he would never admit that to anyone if they were to ask. And now he checks that same page every day trying to summon up the courage to actually hit the follow button.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he turns his attention back to his roommate who has now burst out into a song about love at first sight. If he didn’t have such a good singing voice Eugene would have probably throttled him by now. But alas, his roommate can sing and who can blame him if he enjoys listening to him.

Instead, he decides to settle on a pillow and cocks an eyebrow as he grabs the one at the end of the bed and pushes it straight into his face. "Don't you have somewhere to be, like a class?"

Lance’s words come out muffled and only slightly annoyed. "The theatre can wait, my friend. First I need details".

And that freezes Eugene to the spot.

How can he give details when there really aren't any details to give? Can he even qualify it as meeting a girl when all he said was his name? The most action that was had was by his book fort, which of course had met its untimely death in Eugene's haste to escape. And he really doesn’t think his friend will be too impressed by his tactic to see a pretty girl and run.

The pillow drops from his hands as he removes his grip and uses the brief silence to shuffle over to his desk, perching himself on the edge. He finds a particularly interesting stain and focuses on that. "There's nothing to tell".

"Come on, there must be something.”

“There really isn’t”.

“Did you get her number? Do you know what building she lives in? What course she's on? Anything?"

He shakes his head to every one of his inquiries adding little shrugs to amplify the sympathy factor. This is his first attempt at this, how was he to know he was supposed to get her number?

Lance apparently has no sympathy to give today, as his focus is no longer on his struggling friend but rather on his phone that sits close by on the bedside table. It’s switched on, unarmed and the perfect opportunity for Lance to strike, which of course he does, and before Eugene can even mutter his objection the phone has been swiped up and settles in his friends’ hand.

He can see the exact moment in which Lance gets his phone unlocked and his eyes settle on the evidence of what Eugene got up to last night. After a whole day of classes and pining over Rapunzel, he was too exhausted to even move let alone remember to close out her profile page. And now it’s there, shining brightly, ready for the taking.

Sliding his eyes back up, the wide grin appears again on Lance’s lips and this time Eugene certainly is too afraid to ask him what he’s got planned.

There’s a brief pause before he is leaping off the bed, literally, and making his way over to Eugene, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him from the desk. He’s promptly walked out of his room, through the dimly lit hallway and brought to a stop right outside their front door. It takes him a few seconds to register that his arms are being hoisted into a jacket he hadn’t even realised Lance had picked up.

“Your girl just posted,” he says, finally managing to get Eugene to cooperate and slide his hands all the way through the dark brown sleeves “looks like she’s an early riser”.

“What?” his voice is laced with every bit of confusion and he gets a light smack on the head for it.

“She’s at the café, buddy.” Two hands find their way onto Eugene’s shoulders before he’s being pushed out of the front door that he’s not even sure how Lance got open. “You’ve got some wooing to do my friend.”

He tries the best he can to plant his feet firmly on the ground, grab a side of the door frame and halt any movement. Using his free hand and glaring behind himself at Lance, he gestures wildly at his current state of undress.

“I’m still in my underwear.”

There’s a brief pause, a moment of pure peaceful silence before they are moving again, this time Eugene being pulled in the direction they just came from. Lance’s voice is now surely waking up everyone else on their floor when he announces a new addition to his plan.

“First, we change, then we woo!”

It’s quite surprising to him just how quickly finds her.

It’s even more surprising that he finds her in the exact place he thought she would be.

Corona coffee is the quietest coffee shop in town, with it being at least a ten-minute walk away from campus. Its hidden away and never busier than a few full tables, making it the perfect place for one to come and escape the real world for a while. In his case, it’s the ideal place to curl up with a good novel. In Rapunzel’s case, it’s the perfect place for sketching, especially with the large glass windows located in the downstairs area leading out onto the cafe’s courtyard.

Which is exactly where he finds her.

She's sat at the table tucked away in the corner, hand moving furiously, head buried in her paper and completely ignoring everything else around her. It makes him pause in his tracks, halfway on the stairs, mouth slightly open.

He’s not exactly sure what it is, but there’s just something that makes her so intriguing to him and it’s something that goes way past her golden hair and a bright smile. He watches every stroke her pencil takes and is drawn in every time she freezes, sticks out her tongue and erases the line she just made. Only when she’s happy with the line correction does her tongue retreat and her lips pull into a smile once again.

There’s just so much concentration and respect for what she is doing that he can’t help the way something blooms in his chest. She’s like magic and all he wants is more. To know her more, talk to her more, see her more. Just be more.

He’s known that ever since he looked up and saw her standing at the end of the aisle in the library. It became more apparent when scrolling through her pictures and seeing just what type of person she is. And it hits him again now as he watches her flip her book this way and that to find just the right angle.

After a few minutes of simply staring, when it reaches a point that is bound to be considered creepy, he draws in a long breath and glances down at his phone one last time, reading the message that Lance sent for what he thinks is the 100th time since he left their building.

You got this buddy.

Just don't be a dork.

Don't be a dork, right. He's got this, hasn't he?

There's one more intake of breath, sharp this time, before his legs are moving and taking him over to put his plan in motion - whatever that plan might be. Thanks to Lance, he didn’t really have the time to think about what he was going to say or do and now that he is finally seeing her again there is no hope in that happening now. His brain has other priorities.

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and crosses his fingers tightly hoping that this would be enough to get him the rest of the way over to her table. It does, thankfully, and he’s almost to the vacant chair when his luck gives out and sends his foot directly into the path of a backpack strap lying across the floor.

What had intended to be a smooth glide had now resulted in him tumbling haphazardly into the seat before him, his hands grabbing onto the back of the wooden chair to stop him from falling any further.

However, it doesn’t stop his legs from flying around under the table and sending the half-full coffee cup plunging to the ground. If he wasn’t already fully embarrassed, the loud crashing noise of mug meeting floor is quick to get him to the max level.

So much for not being a dork.

His fall gets Rapunzel's attention almost immediately, her eyes snapping up to meet his before falling to the table in front of her and sending a look of alarm across the table. She stands up quicker than he can really register what’s happening and is instantly in action, scooping up all her sketchbooks and supplies and snatching up her phone before its drowned in a sea of coffee.

It’s seconds before Eugene is following suit, a chorus of apologies spilling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that honestly.”

“It’s fine” she replies, a little breathless but with no annoyance, using a couple of napkins she had nearby to absorb all the liquid she can.

Despite her apparent calmness, he’s still a fussing mess, trying his hardest to get the rest of her sketchbooks to safety, especially the one he saw her drawing in when he first arrived. It's already half full and with the way she was focussing on it earlier it must be one of importance.

The book is barely an inch off the table when he hears a cry comes from opposite him.

“No! Don’t touch that”.

His head raises slightly to see Rapunzel with her arm stretched trying to grab the sketchbook off him, her cheeks now blooming red from anger. No, not anger but what he thinks is embarrassment.

Eugene is really not the type of person to snoop and with Rapunzel only inches away he knows he really shouldn’t, but he can’t help his eyes from flickering down to the pages in front of him.

He’s surprised when there is no more objection coming from Rapunzel as he flips through the rest of the pages.

He’s even more surprised when he sees that the pages are full of him.

His eyes find their way back to Rapunzel and catch the small shrug she gives in her defence.

“I told you not to touch it.”

And for once he’s really glad he didn’t listen.

#tangled #tangled fanfiction #new dream fic #rapunzel x eugene #tangled the series #i present to you more of eugene being a dork #and lance being the best wingman #its all chaos

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