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viking-raider · 2 years ago

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Soothing the Shadows

Summary: You were Marshall's nurse, after he was shot by Simon Stulls. The two of you fall in love, and everything seems perfect, but it's strained by Marshall holding something back from you. His fear of losing you.

Pairing: Walter Marshall/Reader

Word Count: 6.5

Warning: M - Mention of Violence, PTSD, Severe Flashback, Mention of an ugly divorce, Language, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Mental Health battle - SMUT - fingering (F receiving), protected intercourse.

Inspiration: So, for this fic, I sort of meshed Marshall and Sy together into one.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Dating a homicide detective wasn't easy. Especially, when that homicide detective was Captain Walter Marshall.

The pair of you had met after Marshall was injured on the job, having been shot by Simon Stulls and his twin brother. You were the nurse that took care of Marshall, while he recovered from the near fatal wound that rendered him in the Intensive Care Unit for two weeks.

“How are we feeling tonight, Captain Marshall?” You asked, breezing into Marshall's private room, with a bright smile, finding your grumpy and sometimes difficult patient in his bed, one massive arm in a sling and the other working the remote control to his tv.

“Hm.” Marshall huffed back at you, rolling his eyes.

You chuckled at him, not taking it personally. “How's your pain level?” You inquired, checking his medical chart to see the notes from his previous nurse, before moving over to examine the vitals on his monitors. “Better than yesterday?” You asked, lifting a brow in his direction, remembering the discomfort he had been in.

“Six.” He rattled off the number, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Would you like me to get you anything for it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Marshall answered, sighing softly, setting the remote down on the little rolling table next to his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Is our hospitality that bad?” You quipped, giggling at him, hoping to get him to at least smile. “I could phone the manager.”

Marshall looked up, his blue eyes regarding you for a long moment, making you feel like he was reading your soul, before he finally responded. A twinkle in his gaze. “No, I'd hate to complain to the manager. Especially when there's one bright spot in the hospitality.”

“Well that's-” You gulped, shifting in your rubber nurse's clogs. “That's good to know, Captain Marshall.” You told him, a bit sheepish.

“Marshall.” He corrected you, gently. “Just call me, Marshall.”

“Marshall.” You smirked, nodding your head. “I'm glad you enjoy the hospitality. But I also hope you go home soon. I'm sure your daughter is ready for you too.” You said, changing the subject, so the heat in your cheeks would cool off.

“And, your wife.” You added, a small lump in your throat.

“Oh, she's-”

“Code Blue.” The Hospital P.A crackled over the speakers. “Code Blue. All personnel. Code Blue, room eighteen.”

“Oh crap!” You gasped, adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. “I'm so sorry!” You said quickly, before rushing out of his room.

Sadly, you weren't able to see Marshall again. Your code blue patient took up most of your time and when you were finished with them and your other rounds, Marshall had been released to go home. You were happy for him, even though you were a bit sad that you hadn't been able to say goodbye and see him off.

But you got another opportunity to come your way.

“Hey.” One of your co-workers tapped you on the shoulder as you stood at the nurse's station, filling out a medication request. “There's a super handsome guy asking for you.”

You looked up from the computer. “What?” You frowned at her, confused. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't get a name. But he's damned sexy.” She chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over the counter of the nurse's station, looking down the hall and towards the doors that allowed entry onto your floor. You were shocked to see Marshall standing there, reading one of the posters on the wall. “Oh my god!” You gasped, quickly pulling back, before he could see you.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he was one of my patients.” You told her, fussing over your black, whimsical bee, scrubs and hair.

“Well, you must like each other.” She commented, watching you with amusement.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, going by her and trying to act natural and calm, despite being nervous beyond belief. “Marshall, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Is your wound healing?” You asked, trying to be professional.

“Everything's fine.” He smiled at you, instinctively touching his shoulder. “It's healing great.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I-uh-came to see you.” He confessed, biting the inside of his lip. “I wanted to know, if you'd like to get some coffee with me, sometime?” He asked, shoulders stiffening with resolve.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Aren't you married?”

Marshall drew in a deep breath, tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I was married, yes.” He replied, his face darkening. “Angie and I divorced some time ago. It's complicated and not something I'd like to get into.”

“All right, as long as I'm not being a home wrecker by accepting your offer.” You answered, relieved.

“I assure you, you're not.” Marshall said, relief dancing in his blue eyes. “So, when are you next available?”

You looked down at your watch, tilting your head side to side for a moment. “I can take my lunch break right now.” You told him, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“All right.” He nodded, turning to push open one of the doors behind him, for you.

That day had changed both your and Marshall's lives. You quickly fell in love with each other and craved each other constantly. But there was a drawback to dating Marshall. You hadn't made that step to move in with each other yet, as much as you wanted too. So, you went to one another's place. It was usually Marshall coming over to your flat though, after he got off from his shift at the station. You would make him dinner and the two of you would cuddle up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine, or more specifically, a glass of wine for you and a glass of whiskey for him, to watch a movie or one of the shows the two of you had become interested in together.

“Walter.” You giggled, shifting beneath the heavy comforter the two of you were under, trying to watch Peaky Blinders.

“What?” He husked back, turning his head into the side of your face, moaning softly, while his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh again.

“Keep that naughty hand to yourself, Captain.” You teased, turning your face into his.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Marshall replied, feigning innocence.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, smelling the sharp honey and caramel of the whiskey on his breath. “What's this?” You asked, rubbing your legs together against his hand.

“Oh, you mean that hand.” He smirked, gently nudging his nose against yours. “I don't know how it got there, but since it is.” He said, pushing it up to cup you through the thin, purple fabric of your panties.

Your gasp melted into a deep whimper, as Marshall started to rub you, watching you through hooded and lusty blue eyes. You turned, pressing your back against the armrest of the couch and opened your legs, giving Marshall full access to your dripping womanhood. He reached under the quilt, not removing it, to keep the chill of the room off of you, as he all but tore your underwear off your body. Tossing them absently over his shoulder and behind the couch, Marshall's hand was back on your privates within a millisecond.

“Oh Christ.” You mewled, arching your back against his hand, his middle finger slipping between your slick folds as he caressed you, teasing you. “Walt, please!” You begged him, pushing the heel of one of your feet into the top of his thigh, nudging his leg impatiently.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head at you, curving that evil digit into your canal. “I haven't seen you in two days, babe.” He panted, licking his lips. “I want to enjoy it.”

“Then take your fucking shirt off, Marshall!” You barked, outraged and worked up as the tip of his finger grazed your sweet spot.

Marshall laughed, “That requires me to take my hand off of you.” He pointed out, amused by your situation.

You dropped your head back on the couch arm, then sat up, shivering as Marshall's finger reached different angles, and grabbed at his shirt. Bunching the knitted material in your hands, you yanked on it until you managed to pull it off over his head, then tossed it in his face for extra drama. Making him chuckle and toss it back at you, before driving his finger deep into your spot. Caught off guard, your hand flew out, clawing into the exposed skin at the top of his shoulder and leaving very angry crescents behind in their wake.

“Lord have mercy, Marshall!” You cried out, your head flying back, while you rocked on his hand.

“Lay back.” He purred at you, planting a kiss to your fingers. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always do, Donut.” You teased, laying back again, tugging the blanket up over you as you did.

Marshall blushed slightly at your nickname for him. “I try, Angel.” He replied, gently working his finger inside of you, crooking it to tease your walls, knowing all the places to hit.

Your toes curled and you moaned softly, eyes rolling shut as you rutted against his hand, rolling your hips. Marshall looked at your face, a soft smirk on his own, seeing the pure pleasure you were in. He slipped in a second and started rubbing your clit with his thumb, drawing out a loud sigh from you. The want to keep that look on your face forever was so strong inside of Marshall. You were relaxed in the essence of pleasure and bliss, with no care in the world, other than what his fingers were doing to you.

“Walter, please!” You begged him, brows drawing together as you looked down your face at him.

Smirking, Walter freed his fingers from inside of you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into his lap and a heady kiss. He moved to the edge of the couch and stood, taking you with him, supporting you against his body as he carried you to the bedroom, one big paw rubbing firm circles over your back to keep the flat's chill away, until getting there.

“Why do you keep it so cold in here?” Marshall commented, resting you on the bed.

“I don't know. Guess I'm just used to the chill of the hospital. I don't really pay attention to it, until you show up.” You replied, giggling as you pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed.

“I should start a fire.” He said, glancing at the enclosed fireplace, in the corner of your room, as he stood at the side of your bed, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his tree-trunk thighs.

“You already started one.” You cooed at him, licking your lips at the titanic tent in the front of his boxer briefs, reaching out to palm it through the black material. “A big one, Bear.” You hummed, feeling the hot beast that lived within throb against your palm.

Marshall's eyes fluttered back into their sockets as you fondled him, pressing himself against your hand, growling deep in his throat and chest. You smirked up at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his hairy belly. Smoothing your palm upwards, you curled your fingers around the elastic waistband and slowly peeled his boxers down. Even with anticipation, your eyes grew and you gasped silently, when Marshall's thick and veiny, cut cock sprang heavily free from the confines of the garment.

Reaching into your bedside drawer, you removed a square object from inside and tossed it on one of the pillows, before looking at Marshall.

“Come to me.” You whispered, removing your shirt and heading up the bed.

Looking you over, like a hungry wolf, Marshall stalked up the bed towards you. Moving over you and nuzzling his face into your neck, he nibbled and kissed at the skin there and at your shoulder, while his hands smoothed down your sides, touching every inch of your body. You felt the rub of Marshall's beard as he left love-bites you'd be feeling during your shift later tomorrow. But that didn't bother you, you wanted to feel Walter with you. Always. You had one hand tugging at the curls at the back of his head and the other clawing into one cheek of his rump, as he grabbed at your knees, shoving them wide open to buck against you, his cock dripping against your slickness, mixing with the ultimate finale.

It didn't take love for Marshall's thought of lighting a fire to become nonsensical, the two of you were heated and glistening with sweat, from your combined actions and feelings. Perspiration pearled down Marshall's vast back as he pulled away from you, only slightly, his darkened blue eyes meeting yours in a hungry and sultry gaze, that sent a chill so powerful through your burning body, goose-flesh was raised.

“Mine.” He growled, in a deep pant.

“All yours.” You gulped back, nodding and sucking your lip between your teeth.

Marshall sat up between your legs, and you grabbed at the item you had tossed on the pillow earlier. It was a condom. You tore it open and took out the opaque-red and lubricated rubber, tossing the packaging carelessly to the floor, while Marshall grasped himself at the root, the head of his member changing a shade of purple, to hold his thick cock steady. You carefully rolled the protection down over his length, marveled at how it looked, snug over the throbbing veins. Wrapping your hand around the head of Walter's manhood, you stroked it downward, ensuring the sleeve was secure in place, before reaching up to grab him by the shoulder and pull him down into a heated kiss.

While you kissed, Marshall lined himself up with your weeping entrance. It never seemed mattered how many times the two of you were intimate, you never quite grew accustomed to Marshall's sheer size. Even with the help of being aroused and lubricated, there was always that initial stretch of him easing inside of you, of his girth reshaping you for the billionth time in the two years you had been dating. But it quickly subsided into something so marvelously euphoric, that you couldn't help the soft smile that crossed your lips or the curl of your toes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body, an arm encircling your waist and the other around your shoulders, his knees planted into the mattress, as he rocked into you. The wood headboard smacked against the wall behind it, keeping time with each thrust. Thankfully, it was an outer wall, so your next door neighbor wasn't too bothered by the noise, and he was used to your and Marshall's love making, by now.

Good and patient, Preston.

“Christ, Marshall!” You cried out, your walls kneading around him, feeling every furious movement that begged his manhood to release his magic and bring you both into a world of unimaginable bliss.

“Fuck, babe.” He panted back, his hot breath wafting over the skin of your face.

He pressed his temple against yours, letting out small whimpers of effort and moans of pleasure in random intervals. His thrusts lost rhythm and became rougher, as he neared his climax, your own aiding the effort. Marshall throbbed inside of your quivering walls and you felt the muscles of his stomach clench and become rock hard. He made his tell-tale sound, a soft, groaning sigh, as he unloaded inside of the protective barrier between you. Nonetheless, your slick canal struggled to keep a hold of Marshall's unloading and still working cock, feeling it surge inside of you. Your back arched, pushing yourself up against his clenched stomach, nails racking down his sweaty back.

“Marshall!” You cried out, shuttering with each wave of pleasure that washed through you. “Oh god, Marshall.” You whimpered, slowly lowering yourself back down, spent. “I love you.” You sighed softly, after a few moments to catch your breath.

Marshall rolled you both onto your sides, tucking your head under his chin and against his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered back, hugging you hard against him, fingers tangling in the back of your hair.

You struggled to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing what it meant, if you did. But you were spent from a long shift, the previous night, little sleep and the exhausted pull of your love making. Soon enough, you were snoring into Marshall's collarbone. But, when you woke with a jolt a few hours later, your heart thundering in your chest, a good enough fire in the fireplace to keep your room warm, but not roast you alive, however you were alone.

“Marshall?” You called out, hoping—praying, he was just watching tv in the living room like he did, on rare occasions. “Donut!” You yelled out a little louder, turning to grab your shirt off the floor and padded into the living room, but found it cold, quiet and empty.

You sighed, realizing Marshall had left. Turning, you went down the hall to the guest room bath and discovered the mirror was still foggy. Marshall would go there to take a shower, before he left, so he wouldn't wake you by using your master bathroom. Usually, when he showered at your place, it meant he was heading straight back into the station to work some more, without bothering to go home. You wondered how many hours your boyfriend had slept, before sneaking off into the night.

“Just one night, Walter Marshall.” You whimpered, stripping your shirt off as you headed to bed again. “That's all I ask of you. Stay one fucking night with me, without vanishing like some sort of ghost.” You sighed, crawling under the blankets.

Marshall scrubbed at his eyes, while trying to focus on the police report in front of him, Harper had given him a new case to work on. It was a double homicide with a few lead suspects, but no solid proof on which of them it could possibly be. He was hitting his wit's end, three shifts, with a four hour sleep between two of them, crashed out on the small couch in his office. He'd only spoken to you through text messages through that time. The two of you had tried to meet up for lunch, but one of his suspects had been hauled into the station and he had to cancel it, so he could interrogate them.

A soft knock sounded on his office door and Commissioner Harper popped in. “How's the case going?” He asked, depositing himself into a chair across from Marshall.

The Brit drew in a deep breath and let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That well, huh?” The older law enforcement officer chuckled. “When was the last time you went home?” He inquired, seeing the dark circles under Marshall's bloodshot blue eyes.

Marshall looked at his watch. “Nine hours ago, to shower.” He replied, shooting Harper a look.

“You need to head home.” Harper snorted, shaking his head. “Don't you have a new lady in your life?” He said, lifting a brow at Walter, critically. “You shouldn't be keeping hours at the station, like you were when you were a bachelor, Marshall. I'm sure it drives her fucking crazy.”

“I know.” Marshall sighed heavily, knowing Harper was right. “It does.”

You had scolded Marshall several times about working himself into the ground and not getting a proper night's sleep. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, preferring to be at the station, then sitting alone, in the deafening emptiness of his flat. He definitely was a husband in the middle of getting a divorce, where he'd rather work eighteen hour shifts, against the alternative of going home to another argument or silent treatment from his soon-to-be ex-wife and making his daughter's life a nightmare.

He had you now, and was still acting like he didn't.

“You're right.” He said, flipping the case file closed and locking it away in his desk. “I am going to take the rest of the day off.” He nodded, stretching to his feet.

“And tomorrow.” Harper added, giving Marshall a stern look.

Marshall stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Tomorrow as well.” He conceded, grabbing his jacket from the hook at the back of his office door.

“Hey.” Harper paused, as he stepped out into the hall, turning back to Marshall. “Surprise her. Women love that stuff.” He smirked, giving him a teasing wink before heading off to his own office.

“Yeah.” Marshall nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Thankfully, he knew you had the day off, which made surprising you all the easier to do.

Marshall stopped by his place first, taking a quick shower and changed. Washed up and freshly changed, Marshall went to a small floral shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers, then crossed town to your takeaway spot, ordering your favorite dish with something to hit your sweet tooth, before finally heading over to your flat.

Situating things in his hands, Marshall knocked on your door and waited for you to answer, his heart pounding for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. At least, until the door cracked open and you peeked out, then his pulse calmed.

“Hey, Sugar butt.” He grinned at you, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

You swung the door open, excited to see Marshall. “What are you doing here, Donut? I thought you had to work!” You said, bouncing on your toes towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I got some sound advice, and I decided to take it.” He replied, bending his head to kiss the top of yours. “So, I have the rest of the day off, and was told I'm taking tomorrow off as well.” He told you, holding up the bag of food and your bouquet of flowers.

“There's no one else I want to spend it with.”

“What about Fae?” You asked, your tone teasing.

Marshall rolled his eyes at you. “I'm far too boring and uncool.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Well, you're entertaining and cool enough for me, Donut.” You giggled, pulling him into your flat.

“Thank the heavens for that.” He smiled, letting you drag him inside and into the kitchen.

“What did you get me?” You asked, dying to know what he had in the takeaway bag.

“Things you eat.” Marshall smirked, side eyeing you. “Hey, hands off!” He chuckled, batting your hand away from the bag. “Go pour us something to drink, Sugar butt!” He said, popping you on the butt and kissed your neck.

“My sweet detective, you drank all your Rich & Rare whiskey, the last time you were here.” You informed him, giving him a gentle pat on the chest.

“Oh fuck, I did.” Marshall sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

You smiled, moving around him to go into a cabinet. “Luckily for you, you have a very thoughtful partner.” You said, pulling down a bottle of the amber colored spirit. “Who noticed it and bought another bottle for you.”

Marshall turned around, cracking a smile at you. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand for a moment, before answering. “You got shot.” You deadpanned.

“Right.” He nodded, taking the bottle from you, then turned back to the food, pulling it out and putting it on the counter, before taking down plates.

You took down glasses and set one of them next to the plates, before grabbing your chilled bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, wiggling your brows at Walter as he moved by you for the fridge himself. Winking at you, Marshall grabbed a black case from inside the freezer and turned back, smirking as he found you already nibbling on your food. Shaking his head, he set the case on the counter and opened it, before cracking the seal on the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into his glass.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, opening the case and lifting a brow in your direction.

“It's been good.” You answered, getting your takeaway on the plate. “Slept a whole extra hour and a half.” You snorted, smirking to yourself. “Took a bath, instead of a shower, which felt incredible, and started to catch up with all of the shows I'm behind on.”

“Sounds like a day off well spent.” Marshall nodded, pulling out a pair of small tongs and removed a medium sized, chilled, black whiskey stone that was nestled inside and placed it in his glass. “I hope mine goes as well.”

“Well, we can make that happen.” You told him, holding a fork out to him.

Marshall grinned at you, taking the fork. “Yeah, we can.”

The two of you took your food and drinks to the couch, finding something to watch together, while you ate. You smirked, however, watching your Donut doze on and off, his plate balanced on his knee. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you gently took his and set it beside yours, you grabbed his hand and coaxed him up to his feet.

“Mmm.” He grunted, responding to your nudges towards the bedroom.

“Ssshh.” You cooed back, not wanting him to stir from the soft doze he'd fallen into.

Getting him to your room, you lightly pushed him back, to sit on your bed, stifling your giggle at his 'umph' as he landed. Kneeling down, you untied the laces of his boots, biting your lip as you gingerly pulled them off, but Marshall barely stirred as they came free from his feet. You managed to get his shirt off, before laying him back on the bed and covering him up.

“Sleep tight, detective.” You whispered, stroking the curls off his forehead for a moment, listening to his deep and easy breathing.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you gathered up the hardly touched plates and wrapped them up, storing them away in the refrigerator for later on, carefully poured the remaining whiskey Marshall hadn't polished off into the bottle, rinsing the stones, slipping them back into their case and into the freezer. Rubbing your face, you stripped and crawled into bed with Marshall, snuggling in against his side with a smile, excited to be falling asleep with him, knowing there was a high likelihood he'd be there, when you woke up.

What you hadn't expected was how you woke up with Marshall.

You were too deeply asleep to even dream, comfortable and warm. It was pure heaven, that you were hardly aware of the loud bang, likely someone slamming a door shut or the lid of a dumpster being dropped; nothing that was significant enough to draw you from your slumber. Nothing, but the jolt and gasp beside you. You started to pull to the surface of consciousness, struggling to understand what was going on, before you felt a pair of abnormally strong tentacles wrap around your frame. Jerking you against something solid, the air was knocked out of your lungs. While you were dragged over the edge of the bed, your stomach clenched as you dropped to the floor, crying out at the force of the sudden stop.

Realization flooded you, feeling the huffing, puffing and mountainous body of Marshall move over you, one arm still crushing around your middle to pin you against him, one thick thigh wedged between yours. If you didn't know Walter as well as you did, you probably would have started screaming at the position he had you in.

But you knew him, and you knew there was something deeply wrong with your boyfriend. Even your nursing instincts were going off for something being out of place. Marshall was panting like a wounded animal, his nostrils flaring with each breath, every muscle in his body was rock hard and rigid, but he was trembling. His teeth were gritted, like he was in pain and his blue eyes were wide and on high alert, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

“Marshall?” You whispered, apprehensive to make a sound, almost afraid that he'd snap at you, but his arm only tightened, making you hiss and wiggle underneath him, but he only held you tighter. “All right.” You groaned, relaxing to rest your forehead against the carpet, taking a deep breath of relief when his arm eased against your stomach.

You racked your brain, he was a horror hardened Detective for the Manitoba police force, what could cause Marshall to react to this extreme? Could this be a flashback from Simon?

You took a deep breath, knowing you had to help Marshall out of this, to let him know he was in a safe place. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for whatever reaction he gave you. Wiggling your arm out from underneath of your body, ignoring his attempt to keep you still, you propped yourself up the best you could under his weight.

“Marshall.” You said, keeping your voice calm and as if nothing was wrong, reaching back to rest your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's all right, Walt. It's just a flashback.” You told him, pressing your head against his chest. “I'm all right. We're all right.” You reassured him, moving your hand to his neck, beginning to massage the tight muscles there.

“We're safe. There's nothing and no one here to harm us. I promise.”

“Unless, you look in my closet and notice the alarming ratio of scrub outfits to regular ones.” You said, making yourself giggle, hoping a light joke would cause a crack in the wall of his PTSD, since Marshall had always enjoyed your sense of humor.

But Walter didn't seem to react to any of it, though you didn't allow yourself to become discouraged.

“What can I do?” You cooed at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “Please, tell me how I can help you, Donut?”

Marshall abruptly stopped trembling against you and seemed to relax on top of you, but didn't move any farther. You took the win, patiently waiting to see if he made any further improvements. They took several more moments, with you still massaging his neck and just laying there with him, but Marshall finally seemed to regain some sense of himself.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled, moving off of you at last.

You floundered for a moment, sitting up to rest your back against the side of your bed, unsure how to reply. “Mar-” You started, only to have him jump to his feet and storm into your en suite, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Okay.” You sighed, nodding curtly at the door. “You need space.” You said, to the air, then pulled yourself up and pulled on a pair of shorts shorts with a tank top.

Going out to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of tea, pausing for a moment as you carried it out of the kitchen to fortify it with a small splash of Marshall's whiskey, before going to sit in the living room. You stared at the turn off tv, regarding your blurry reflection as you thought about what had happened in the bedroom with Marshall, then abruptly locked himself in the bathroom. The shower had turned on not long afterwards, making you suppose he was taking one to wake himself up and clear his head. You were still worried about him though, he had just turned into a statue after yanking you off the bed like that, forcing you to be still, like he was afraid something would happen, if either of you moved.

An hour and all your hot water later, Marshall emerged from your bedroom, his eyes pointed at the floor as he stood just passed the doorway. You set your empty cup on the coffee table and turned to look at him over the back of the couch, his wet curls were combed back off his forehead, making him look almost boyish.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled again, folding his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look at you.

“I know you're sorry, Marshall.” You whispered back at him, your heart aching. “Please, sit down with me?” You begged, patting the cushion beside you.

Marshall lingered in place for a moment, before shuffling over to you and sitting down, arms still crossed. You stared at the circular and slightly puckered scar just below his collarbone, the purplish skin stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his chest, lightly hidden under the dark fur that covered his torso.

“I'm sorry, if I scared you.” Marshall elaborated more on his apology. “I also understand, if you don't want to see me anymore.” He added, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“What?” You giggled, surprised. “Why would I break up with you, Marshall?”

He finally looked at you, brows creased like it was obvious. “Because of what just happened.” He growled, his jaw muscles flexing. “I could have hur-” His eyes searched you for any marks, an almost frantic look coming into them.

“You didn't hurt me, Walter.” You assured him. “You startled the hell out of me, with that wake up. You've caused me to be very concerned. But hurt me, you have not.”

“This time.” He mumbled, relaxing back into his broodiness.

“Tell me what happened, Donut.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “I know you had a flashback. Why? Was it because of Simon?”

Marshall sighed, bouncing his leg. “It wasn't Simon.” He replied, licking his lips. “Before I was a homicide detective, I was in the British Army, I served three tours.” He paused and regarded you, deciding it was time to give you everything.

“I met Angela after I finished boot camp. She was in London for a holiday. We hit it off, and started a long distance relationship. I went on my first tour and everything was reasonably fine. I rose through the ranks quickly through my tours, I initially intended to be career Army. But between the second tour and my last one, Angie got pregnant with Fae. Which complicated things. Angie didn't want to raise her away from her parents in Manitoba, she also didn't want me being in the British Army, since it meant I'd be stationed overseas, away from them and being deployed constantly.”

“That is quite the situation.” You nodded, folding your legs on the cushion.

“It was.” Marshall nodded, his eyes distant. “My second tour had been rough, it was the first time I was given command of a squad of men. We got through it and all my men got home. But that's when some of my PTSD started. Loud noises would make me start or put me on edge. It was my last deployment, when I didn't renew my contract, so I could move to Canada with Angie and Fae, that it went through the roof. My men and I got pinned down by a group of rebels and I ended up losing two of them, despite the effort to keep them alive.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing on an imaginary spot on the rug.

“Marshall?” You whispered, reaching out to rest your hand on his knee, feeling the muscle there jump slightly.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his gaze clearing. “That's when I started having reactive flashbacks, like tonight. At first, Angie took them in stride. I thought they'd be better if I was back in 'that environment', so I joined the Manitoba SWAT team, and it worked for a short time. But Angie worried that was just as dangerous as being in the Army and didn't want Fae losing me.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “She had a point. SWAT could be just as dangerous at times. Get a person in the corner, when they're desperate, it doesn't matter if you're in a war-zone. They'll do anything to get out of that spot. Including killing you.”

“So, what happened?” You asked, biting your lip.

“I transferred to homicide.” He chuckled, smirking like he couldn't believe it himself. “Anyway, over time, Angie couldn't take my flashbacks anymore and we slept in separate bedrooms for the last four years of our marriage. They were a catalyst for our divorce.” He admitted, pressing his lips together, pained. “She even used them to gain full custody of Fae. Like, I was some sort of danger to my own daughter.”

“I don't think you're dangerous, Marshall.” You confessed, moving closer to him.

Marshall huffed at you. “Yeah, that's because I won't allow myself to fall asleep around you.”

“This is why you ghost me after we've made love?” You asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” He nodded, staring back at you. “I'm terrified of something like that happening and losing you because of it.” He barked, jerking a hand towards the bedroom. “That I'll have an episode and I'll hurt you or it's just too much baggage for you to take.”

“Oh, you sweet Donut.” You giggled at him, grinning. “When was the last time you even had a flashback, before tonight?”

“I don't know!” He barked, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Two or three years.”

“That's not bad!” You said, wrapping your arms around his. “And we made it through this one.”

“I don't want you to make it through them.” He whined at you, looking like a hurt puppy.

“Walter Donut Marshall, I helped you get through being shot.” You grinned at him, stubbornly. “I'm pretty darn sure, I can help you through more flashbacks. You're not going to scare me away. I'm not going to break up with you. I love you, you silly Detective.” You cupped his bearded face in your palms.

“Stop running away from me, let me love you, shadows and all.”

“I have some dark shadows.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your hand.

“Don't we all, Donut? Don't we all!” You giggled, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

#Viking-Raider Fics #Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Marshall #Walter Marshall x Reader #Walter Marshall/Reader #Marshall x Reader #Marshall/Reader #Nomis #Night Hunter #Walter Marshall Fanfic #walter marshall fanfiction #Walter Marshall fandom #Smut #Fluff #PTSD #Soothing the Shadows *fic*#Soothing the Shadows #Henry Cavill fandom

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dumbblondesposts · 1 year ago

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Fic idea: klayley having another child

I’m such a sucker for au fics where klayley have another daughter and hope is a big sister

Idk why I felt like a boy is better suited for this so here's an alternative universe where hayley remained a werewolf:

She watches hope make her way to her little brother's crib for what's probably the tenth time this day, she reaches out to stroke his face with her little finger as she beams with joy and she feels nothing but pure contentment

It's been six months since she and Klaus welcomed their second child, this time a little boy named Henrik,

He was named after the Departed youngest mikaelson brother, it was Klaus's idea, a way to honor his memory or out of guilt, who knows

Not that Hayley objected

Everything's been easier, better with her second pregnancy, no danger looming over them, no witches plotting revenge

And for once she could see the side of Klaus she dreamt of seeing since she first learned she carried his heir

He was present, caring, thoughtful and truly alive, he seemed to have a handle on what it's like to be a parent

Maybe that too is out of guilt

He wanted nothing more than to make up for all the time he lost trying to get the city back instead of tending to her needs,

Instead of being there for her and their unborn child

Now he stands across the room, wearing the biggest smile as he watches hope doting on her little brother before his eyes meet Hayley's.

She looks tired, understandably so

Despite his insistence on compelling someone to help her take care of their toddler she refused

Could be her way of compensating for the time she spent away from hope in her first months

He sits next to her and she looks at their kids before quickly shifting her gaze back to him with a smile

"Is it too late to accept the babysitter offer?", She jokes

"Motherhood is wearing you out I see"

She bites back a laugh before she rests her head on his shoulder, an intimate gesture she could've only wished for once upon a time

Now it's habitual ,any bit of fear, of insecurity is long gone

Now she can truly rely on him, she can truly call him her partner

A man and not a beast

A loving father, a great friend and a sweet lover

She watches hope's concerned expression as little henrik bursts out crying before she decides she's bored and exits the room

he can hear Hayley's lengthy sigh and so his hand briefly rests atop hers

"I'll take care of it" , and it's Hayley's turn to swoon over the sight of the mighty Klaus mikaelson rocking his baby in his arms, his shirt smeared with vomit and spit up as he desperately tries to soothe him

She laughs before he gives her the "I give up" look,

"That's not how you do it, here, let me show you"

He carefully hands her the boy and admires the way he instantly calms down, the sight of a small family that loves him,

One that finally gave him a way to live rather than survive melts his heart

He looks at his children's mother nursing their baby, looking absolutely exhausted and he can't think of anything more beautiful

The picture is engraved in his memory, something from which he'll draw inspiration for the many art pieces he later dedicates to her

She looks at him again with a smile

"I'm actually starving right now",

And that's his cue to take care of her for a change,

Since apparently it's now a part of his "baby daddy" responsibilities to remind her to eat, drink and sleep

Not that he'll ever complain, this woman gifted him the world and then some more

He'd offer up his soul for her if she asked

"Alright then love, I'll get you some actual food instead of the convenience dung you so seem to enjoy to ring the changes"

She's busy fawning over Henrik grabbing her Finger when she feels Klaus approache her, he tucks the straying strands of hair behind her ear as to take a better look at her face and she feels herself blushing a little

No one gets her so weak in the knees as that bastard does

"Once I'm back I expect you to finish up your plate and get some sleep, are we set?"

He stands amused as she rolls her eyes at him

"Can you go back to not caring please, cause I'm starting to feel smothered" ,

"I think not", with that he gives her lips a tender kiss,

One that leaves her breathless

It's his way of getting her to stop complaining

An effective way they both enjoy

And the lovestruck teenager in her jumps out, the one who only ever wanted to matter to him

So she bites her lip and focuses all her attention back on their little boy

#trying to heal the PTSD they left me with #tvd #the originals #klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #klaus x hayley #the vampire diaries #klayley fics

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nerdby · 1 year ago

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Might be wishful thinking, but I found this leaked Joyner Lucas track featuring Eminem called "What If I Was Gay" and I hope this means Eminem is growing as an person. I like his music cause I grew up with it and I feel like he tries to be a good person, but he's just ignorant and traumatized. On top of that, I feel like people are sometimes too easily offended cause his music is adult humor -- a lot of his lyrics are meant as jokes and yes, some things should not be joked about but its not healthy to get triggered by fucking everything either.

I am nonbinary and bisexual, by the way, and.....I don't fucking know. That's not in my blog description cause I feel like those things are irrelevant to who I am. Or they should be -- like y'all shouldn't need to know my entire life story to know that I try my best to be a good person. But I get that actions speak louder than words, I guess? I don't know.

I was bullied a lot growing up for being queer and having mental health issues, but I also have a sense of fucking humor. I'm very sarcastic and I have a dark sense of humor cause I use humor to cope with my trauma. That doesn't always work in my favor cause, unfortunately, I can't always read tone because I have autism and wasn't diagnosed until a few years ago. So I never had a chance to work on that issue growing up. It's especially hard online and when I'm triggered logic just goes out the damn window and I immediately feel attacked by innocent jokes, and I end up saying shit that I shouldn't. And it's embarrassing.

I've chosen to just accept that I'm gonna fuck up despite trying my best to be a good person and so is everyone else. I think that as long as people truly regret their mistakes and want to do better then they shouldn't be judged for them. And, no, I'm not saying abusers should be forgive cause abusers very often cannot change because of willful ignorance -- they can't change because they choose not to. But I think most people deserve second chances and the benefit of the doubt.

I'm too nice for my own good probably, but it's fucking exhausting be angry and offended all the time.

Neither of these is the original cause it's just vocals. The first one features both Joyner and Eminem. The second a remix with only Eminem's lyrics.

youtube

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memwazz · 1 year ago

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Dysfunctional family shitpost because these three are all as fucked up 👌

Aged 4 to 13, Roxanne was raised by the mafia to serve as a killing machine. The 7th Division found her during a mission and won a fight against her (this fight is where Aloïs' face scar comes from). They took her away from the guy who abused her but couldn't call the authorities because of her criminal record and her superpowers which could endanger her. So the Marshall twins randomly decided to adopt her.

The first year was the hardest because Roxanne was traumatized and scared that the two guys who "kidnapped her" could torture and exploit her too. Her defense reflexes were mostly violence : she tried to kill them several times and was carrying anything she could use as a weapon everywhere. Even under her pillow.

Aloïs and Ezra did their best but it was not easy since they received a terrible and quite traumatic education themselves. They weren't ready to raise a child (especially a teen with a PTSD--) and often disagreed on the best methods because they think differently. Aloïs is the strict type with a lot of morals and Ezra's a chaotic goblin who doesn't play by the rules and has violence issues himself. So yeah the three of them were confused and lost at first.

But the most important is the love they gave her : when Roxanne finally felt safe for the first time of her life, she gradually softened to become the badass and cheerful sweetheart she's now ♥️

The twins and her have been living together for 10 years now and Roxanne even joined the team, using her powers for the good cause. Their love bond is unbreakable and they always support one another through hard times 🥺

#ocs #original characters #sdu #seven division united #roxanne zaleska #aloïs marshall #ezra marshall #shitpost #knife #cuddly toy #mafia #ptsd~

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timothyolyphant · 8 months ago

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For all I know I'm just having a full-blown PTSD episode.

Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson JUSTIFIED / SEASON 04

#justifiededit #justified #tim gutterson #jacob pitts #gif*#i love this flavor of him

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junrenjun · 4 months ago

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but even after this, you're still everything to me

choi seungcheol x reader, formula 1 au

genre: heavy angst

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem reader, enemies to lovers, misogyny, death threats

a/n: another request by @straykidsstanforeverandever. lot's of heavy f1 jargon and such in this. if you aren't super in tune with f1, there may some references you don't understand. read with caution. title is a lyric from the grudge by olivia rodrigo.

Imola has always been one of your least favorite tracks to drive. And after today, you never want to come near it again. Maybe you’ll fake an illness when the time comes around next season. It would be nice to let the development drivers get some real racing time and you wouldn’t have to drive this cursed track again.

A voice in your ears distracts you from the little pity party you’ve started in your brain. “Are you okay y/n?”

Your race engineer’s question reminds you that your radio is being publicized on live television right this moment. Sighing, you quickly respond, “yeah Will, I’m fine. Today’s just not my day.”

The answer is half-hearted, but the man knows better than to question you right now, when you’re being recorded. He settles with, “okay, red flags are out for you. You can hop out of the car when you’re ready.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready. But life is tough and Formula 1 is tougher, so you undo your belts and pull yourself out of the car. You take a minute to inspect your blown out tire, before taking your helmet off. Marshals surround you, asking if you are alright, but you brush them off. You just want to be back in your driver’s room already.

The journey back to the paddock is a painful one, both mentally and physically. Your knee is throbbing from where it hit against the side of the car on impact. You pray the cameras don’t pick up your limp. It takes all of your energy not to cry when you see the pitying expressions of the rest of the McLaren crew. Another potential win out the window, just like that.

The rest of the race passes by in a flash. Between going to medical as per your trainer’s request (the cameras did in fact pick up the limp) and changing out of your race suit, you only catch the last three laps. One of the Mercedes cars wins by practically a mile. And it’s fucking Choi Seungcheol of all people.

You have half a thought to turn the TV in your driver’s room off the second he crosses the finish line, but you don’t. You’re itching to hear whatever dumb thing he says in his interview today. The man is a walking PR nightmare.

Sure enough, the camera is chasing after him the second he steps out of the car. After a few second water break, he turns to the interviewer, who asks him, “Great win today Seungcheol. You worked your way up from 5th to 1st within a few laps today. How does that feel?”

“It feels great. I mean I couldn’t have done it without y/n’s tire of course…”

You turn the TV off, cutting him off the second he mentions your name. Slumping back even more on the couch, you throw an arm over your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Whatever possessed you to choose a male dominated sport?

You’re thrown out of your thoughts once again by a voice from your doorway. “At least it was kind of a compliment, eh?”

When you peek out from under your arm, Oscar is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. You remove your arm from your face, scooting farther down the couch and patting the spot next to you. The Aussie moves to join you.

After a few moments of silence you turn to face him. “You made it back to the paddock pretty fast.”

It’s his turn to groan this time. “I retired 7 laps from the end. Engine failure. I was in 3rd.”

You hum, wistfully. Then turn to look out the window. “Bad day to be Papaya, I guess. Think we can convince Jungwon and Pato to take our places at Imola next season? I think I have PTSD from this track now.”

Oscar simply snorts in response. For the small amount of time remaining before you have to face the nightmare that is media duty, you simply enjoy sulking together.

A little less than a week later, you’re standing on one of your all-time favorite tracks: Monaco. Your mood now is starkly different than it was at Imola. You’re practically bouncing on your heels waiting for FP1 preparations. Jungwon is by your side, instructed by your team principal to “learn from the best,” since he’ll be driving here for F2.

The kid is clearly a little nervous, but he’s endearing and a pretty decent driver, so you don’t mind. You’ve already gone over the track layout with him, giving him tips for certain corners and telling him where he can make up extra time. There’s not much feedback left to give until you see him drive in person, so you resort to small talk.

As you both walk up and down the pit lane, Seungcheol saunters up to you. You resist the urge to walk away, trying to keep a good display of sportsmanship in front of your junior driver. The Mercedes driver however, clearly does not care, because he says, “is this your replacement after the Imola incident y/n?”

Jungwon, bless his soul, looks mortified. It takes everything in you to not fire a sarcastic remark back. You’re both saved from the awkwardness by Oscar though, who steps in between you and Seungcheol. He clears his throat and tells you, “Andrea is looking for you. I’ll take Jungwon for now.”

You know Andrea is most likely not looking for you. You saw him ten minutes ago when you left the garage. Thank god for Oscar’s ability for thinking on the spot. Now you have some personal time to cool off before free practice.

Both Jungwon and Oscar watch as you jog back to the garage. The Aussie lets out a relieved sigh once you are back safely. He turns to make sure Seungcheol has walked away. Thankfully, he has.

The younger driver looks at the other quizzically. “I didn’t really realize the rivalry was actually real. I thought it was an act for the cameras.”

Pushing around a stray rock with the toe of his shoe, Oscar sighs again. “Would you believe me if I said they were teammates once?”

Jungwon’s jaw practically unhinges from his face with how far it drops. The kid is probably too young to know them in any capacity other than their rivalry. “But they hate each other…” he muses aloud.

Oscar urges the kid to keep moving along the track with a hand on his back. “Yeah, well they used to not hate each other. They were F2 teammates. It’s none of my business to tell you everything that went down but something happened that year. By the end of the championship they wouldn’t even speak to each other.”

Jungwon nods in response, but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear that Oscar won’t give up much information, so he drops the subject. But every once in a while, his mind turns back to it. What could’ve been so bad that you guys couldn’t even talk to each other as teammates? If it was some sort of on-track collision he’s sure it would’ve been talked about in the media constantly. Now he’s really going to have to find out.

And there’s no one better to consult than his own teammate, Lee Chan, who happens to be in the Mercedes Junior Driver Programme.

“You want me to do what?” he asks incredulously. “He’s my mentor, I’m not going to bring that up. Are you dumb?”

“Dude, aren't you curious too?” Jungwon questions.

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “Yeah I’m curious but not curious enough to risk my spot in this program just to ask Choi Seungcheol why he has rivalry with y/n.”

“You don’t even have to ask him directly,” Jungwon tells him. “I asked Oscar about it, not y/n. Maybe you can ask George or Jeonghan about it.”

Chan throws his hands up in exasperation. “Oh even better, not only do I involve two of the biggest names in Formula 1, I involve one of their trainers and their teammates. What a genius idea!”

Jungwon covers Chan’s mouth as quickly as he can. They’re still in the paddock after all. “Dude keep it down.”

The man just stares back at the McLaren junior driver, who sighs and says, “listen, I’ll try my best to get something out of y/n too. It’s not just you doing something.”

“Yeah that’s so motivating Jungwon,” Chan says sarcastically.

“Okay, okay,” he finally lets up. “I’ll pay for all of your afterparty drinks this weekend if you figure something out.”

This is motivating enough for Chan apparently, because he reaches his hand out for Jungwon to shake. They come to an agreement and part ways, heading back to their respective hospitalities.

Chan watches in the Mercedes garage as you set the fastest lap at the very end of Q3. He knows Seungcheol is going to be pissed when he gets back. Not only did you qualify P1, but he only qualified P6. His temper is much worse when he’s mad at both himself and someone else.

Following Chan’s prediction to a tee, Seungcheol steps out the car practically fuming. He tosses his helmet at Jeonghan, who, as his trainer, is quite used to his behavior at this point and catches it. He marches right up to Toto, who is watching a replay of your final lap, and says, “she should’ve had a track limit violation at the chicane.”

Toto turns to him, surprisingly calm, and simply tells him, “She didn’t cut the corner enough to incur a limit violation.”

This is not the answer he wanted to hear, so he turns on his heel to stomp off to his driver’s room. Toto shouts at him from over his shoulder. “Take Chan with you. If you’re going to overanalyze every single mistake you made, at least someone should learn from it.”

Seungcheol whips his head back around to look at Chan, who nervously gulps. He wants to be mad at the kid, but he can’t find a reason to when he’s practically shaking like a leaf. Clearly he didn’t want to be thrown into this situation either. “C’mon,” he mutters and gestures at the junior driver to follow him.

Back in his driver’s room, he unzips his suit, tying the arms around his waist before plopping down on the couch. When he looks up, the kid is still hovering by the door. Grabbing his iPad from the table, Seungcheol gestures for him to come sit down.

But Chan hesitates. “I can leave you alone, you know? I won’t tell Toto.”

Seungcheol just rolls his eyes and gestures to the couch again. “C’mon kid. As much as I hate him right now, he’s right. You might as well learn from this and you’re already here.”

Chan makes his way to the couch rather cautiously and sits as far away as possible from the man, who is scrolling through the footage from qualifying. Without even looking over at him, Seungcheol says, “you can sit closer. I’m not going to bite.”

Not wanting to make him mad, Chan scoots a few inches closer. When he looks over at the iPad again, Seungcheol’s fingers are hovering over a video. He hasn’t clicked on it yet. He just sits there and stares at it. When Chan looks a little closer, he can make out your car in the thumbnail.

Seungcheol clears his throat, looking away for a second. And then he turns back to Chan and says, “is it…uh okay if we watch y/n’s lap first?”

The question kind of stuns him. He was expecting Seungcheol to avoid any reminder of you at all costs. Scared that his voice will betray him, he just nods.

Seungcheol clicks on the video and they watch. The video is on mute and there’s no commentary from either of them. Just silence. As the lap ends, he pauses the video and whispers, “that was a good lap.”

Chan is even more surprised now. He was expecting a frustrated sigh or any sort of mean comment. But he doesn’t get any of that. Now, Chan’s scared that it’s a setup. That he’s trying to get him to agree just to berate him for it. He doesn’t know what to say.

Seungcheol senses that he’s not going to say anything and takes it upon himself to start the conversation. “She’s always been good at Monaco. Even since the first time she drove the track.”

This has really piqued Chan’s interest. Since her first time? Seungcheol was there the first time she drove Monaco? That had to be what? F2?

And then it dawns on him. Jungwon said something about them being teammates in F2. Hoping that the information is public knowledge (it should be, practically their whole racing lives are on Wikipedia) Chan decides to ask about it. “Was that when you were teammates?” He cringes the second the words come out of his mouth. Jungwon owes him big time.

While Chan was expecting him to look angry, Seungcheol just looks at the iPad dejectedly. “Yeah. At Prema. Do you…know about that whole thing?” he asks the boy.

Jackpot. Seungcheol willingly talking about it? He’d never thought this would happen. Then Chan remembers he actually has to respond to him. “Uhm, no I don’t think so. Jungwon said you guys were more…amicable back then.”

“Jungwon’s your teammate at MP?” he asks Chan, who nods in response. Then, Seunghcheol throws a curveball at him. “You’re not attracted to him right?”

Chan sputters at the question. “What? What does this have to do with anything?” When he looks Seungcheol in the eyes he’s dead serious. So he humors him. “No, I’m not attracted to Jungwon. I’m not even gay.”

Seungcheol just nods. “Okay, good. I mean good that you’re not attracted to him. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

This is getting weirder by the second. Chan gives him a questioning look. Why the personal questions?

Exasperatedly, Seungcheol sighs and says, “I don’t want to tell you this if it’s too relatable. I don’t want to scare you and make you not pursue a relationship because of something that happened to me.”

Chan is finally starting to put the pieces together. Then the light bulb goes off and he shoots out of his seat. “You and y/n were together?” he practically shouts.

The older driver drags him back down to his seat and shoves a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet, would you?” Then he releases Chan and slumps back against the couch. “I wouldn’t call it together. We weren’t dating, we knew that F1 would ultimately cause heartbreak for the both of us. We were just messing around. But we were exclusive, I guess.”

Chan doesn’t say anything. He just nods and waits for him to continue. “It was stupid and we both knew it. Especially y/n. She knew that if we got caught, it would affect her career more than mine. Even if we both knew that she was a better driver than I was. This sport isn’t kind to women.”

Seungcheol looks like he might cry. It’s so different from the Seungcheol that Chan witnessed 15 minutes ago in the garage. He doesn’t know what to do. He frowns and lets the man finish his story.

“Y/n was a part of the Red Bull Junior Team at the time. She had been promised an F1 seat within 3 years if she won the championship. I was in the Mercedes Academy at the time too. So we attended a lot of F1 events together. And I was stupid enough to drag her to makeout in a hidden corner of the paddock at one of them.”

He paused, like the next part of the story would pain him to say. “A member of the press caught us. We both knew we were so screwed. He could easily out us right that second or even use it to blackmail us. Luckily Angelo from Prema was there with us that weekend and helped us negotiate with the man. Turns out this press guy is a big fucking misogynist because the final deal was that he wouldn’t out us if he could tell Christian Horner about our relationship. Said he ‘didn’t want no bitches in Formula 1.’ Prick.”

“Christian kicked her out of the junior program when he found out. He’s also a misogynist. I’m glad she didn’t end up there. He told her that he prefers people who win championships through dedication, not those who sleep to the top. But instead of being mad at him or the press guy, she was mad at me. She told me that I ruined her career. That she would never get into Formula 1 because of me. So she never spoke to me again unless it was at work.”

Chan looks at him skeptically. “But her career turned out fine.”

Seungcheol just shrugs. “Exactly.”

Chan is even more confused now. Understandably, you were upset by this whole situation. But why is Seungcheol a dick to you now? “But the whole rivalry? You seem to have started the hostility in that. Not her.”

The man sighs. “Her career turned out fine, Chan. But she continued to be mad at me.”

It’s starting to click in his brain. “So you’re mad at her because she never forgave you?” Chan asks.

All Seungcheol says is, “bingo.”

They’re interrupted by Jeonghan knocking on the door and letting the F1 driver know that he’s due in a few minutes for media duties. Seungcheol leaves Chan on his couch without another word.

“You’re buying my drinks in Barcelona too,” Chan tells Jungwon the second he opens his hotel room door.

Jungwon gapes at him. “What? We only agreed to the afterparty,” he says as the boys walk further into the room, away from prying eyes and ears.

“Yeah well that was if I got you any information. I got you the whole fucking story, dude.” Jungwon’s eyes are as wide as saucers and he immediately starts asking about it. Chan recounts Seungcheol’s monologue to the best of his abilities.

“Holy shit, dude,” Jungwon says once he’s finished, flopping down on his bed. “It’s like the opposite of enemies to lovers.”

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “It’s sad, Jungwon. Y/n lost her future job and Seungcheol at the same time. And now they can’t even be civil with each other because they’re holding grudges.”

Jungwon mulls over his words for a minute. “Maybe I’ll ask y/n about it when she’s drunk tomorrow.”

“How do you even know she’s going to be drunk tomorrow, Won?” Chan asks his teammate.

He turns to flash a cheshire grin at Chan before plainly stating, “she’s either going to podium and drink to celebrate, or she’s going to do bad and drink to mourn.”

Chan rolls his eyes once again. “Speaking of which, I’m going to bed. No matter how well I do tomorrow, you’re paying for my drinks.” He drags himself out of Jungwon’s room and down the hall to his own.

You and Oscar are sitting at a table in the far back of the club, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the afterparty. Mingyu from Ferrari, his trainer Jungkook, Mark from Red Bull, and Chenle from Aston Martin are also gathered around. You’re enjoying the light conversation, basking in the high of your win.

Mark catches your attention after a minute of you spacing out, pointing toward the closest bar. “Isn’t that your little shadow, y/n?” When you look over you see Jungwon conversing with a blonde kid around his age.

“Yeah,” you muse. “Kind of recognize the kid he’s talking to too. Can’t put a finger on his name though.”

“That’s his teammate from F2. Lee Chan I think,” Oscar pipes up from across the table. “The kid with the otter helmet.”

A collective “ohhh,” leaves everyone at the table. “I’m going to get another drink,” you tell them. “Might bring the kids back with me.”

Mingyu snickers at you as you leave. “You can’t adopt them all, y/n!” he shouts as you leave. You flip him off behind your back.

Approaching the bar, you order another drink for yourself and saunter over to where Jungwon is standing. “Hi Wonie,” you say, catching him by surprise as you ruffle his hair a bit. You turn to acknowledge his teammate too. “Hi Chan.”

Chan points back at himself like he’s surprised you know his name. “Is your name not Chan? Oh fuck I’m too drunk for this.” you berate yourself out loud.

“Uh no ma’am, my name is Chan. Just surprised you know me, that’s all.” he says.

You giggle a little bit. “Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old. You’re the kid with the otter helmet, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, before correcting himself. “No, I mean, yes. Yes, I’m the kid with the otter helmet.” You can hear Jungwon cackling at his friend behind you.

You smile at him again before turning back to Jungwon. “Well I’m heading back to sit with those four dumbasses,” you say, pointing back to your table where Jungkook and Mingyu are arguing over something on Mark’s phone. “You two wanna keep me company so I don’t have to deal with them by myself the entire night?”

Jungwon lights up at the question. “Of course!” he practically shouts, and drags a begrudging Chan by the arm to follow you.

When you reach the table, you pat the empty seat next to you, gesturing for Jungwon to sit. Chan grabs the chair next to Mingyu, who messes with his hair and murmurs something about, “the otter kid.”

Jungwon seizes his opportunity ten minutes later, when Mingyu and Oscar are engrossed in a conversation with Chan, Jungkook has gone to the bathroom, and Mark and Chenle are on a video call with Mark’s boyfriend.

“I’m surprised you’re okay with Chan being here,” he says to you as quietly as possible, while still trying to be louder than the music.

Your eyebrows scrunch at the comment, clearly confused. “Why?” you ask him.

You follow his eyes as they search around the crowd. They land on Seungcheol. Still facing your rival, he says, “Chan is a Merc Junior. Seungcheol is his mentor.”

Letting your eyes wander back to Jungwon, you steel your face into something more serious. “Jungwon, just because Chan is being mentored by a driver I hate doesn’t change my opinion of him.”

“You really hate him?” Jungwon asks. “I understand you guys don’t like each other for whatever reason, but hate is a strong word, right?”

You sigh at him. “Hate is in fact a strong word Jungwon,” is all you say and you leave it at that.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he decides to push his luck again. “...Chan said you guys used to be really close. When you were in F2 like us.”

“Yeah,” is all you say in response. The conversation is just barely hanging on by a thread.

“I don’t want me and Chan to end up like that.” It’s kind of a low blow, he thinks, especially when you’re a little drunk, but it works. You turn to him with sad eyes and reach out to rub his hand comfortingly.

You whisper so lowly, Jungwon can barely hear it. “You won’t end up like us, Wonie. I promise.”

The near tears in your eyes have him getting emotional too. All signs are showing that Seungcheol’s story is likely true. One last test to find out. “Why not?” he asks.

The tears are getting closer to spilling over and you turn your head to blink them away. While you’re still facing away, you mumble, “your relationship isn’t like ours. At least I hope it’s not.”

Hook. Line. Sinker. Jungwon’s got it now. Seungcheol was definitely telling the truth. He feels a little guilty about prying it out of you like that, but you seem to have sobered up with the conversation. Oscar’s voice breaks both of you out of your little bubble. “Y/n, everyone is going to head back to the hotel soon. You ready?”

You nod vigorously at the man, probably to hide the fact that there are tears in your eyes. You hop off your chair, grabbing your bag and your phone. Then, you lean down to ruffle Jungwon’s hair a bit. “Goodnight Wonie. You and Chan be safe tonight please.”

After bidding everyone else goodbye in the lobby, you and Oscar take the elevator up to your floors. Oscar’s room is one floor beneath yours, so he says goodnight with a comforting hug and a congratulations on the win. As you ride the elevator up once more, you think back to your conversation with Jungwon. Next time you see Seungcheol, you need to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

The elevator doors open and you turn to head to your room. You see a familiar flash of blonde hair round the corner. What convenient timing. You pick up your pace and grab his sleeve, and he whips around with a deadly look in his eyes. It only slightly softens when he realizes it’s you. You shoot him an equally deadly look back. “You want to tell me why my mentee was asking me questions about our relationship?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is all he says. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid Cheol. You know Jungwon and Chan are teammates. What did you tell Chan?” As much as he wants to hate you right now, his heart can’t help but skip a beat when you call him Cheol. It’s been so long since you’ve called him that.

“I didn’t tell Chan anything. Why would I tell him about anything other than racing?” he counters back.

It’s not believable enough for you, so you push. “Jungwon said something about Chan knowing we were close in F2.”

Seungcheol, tired and wanting to just go to bed, tries to pull his sleeve out of your grip, but you relent. “You can look that up on the Internet y/n. Would you please let me go to bed?”

“No Seungcheol. This concerns both of us. He was asking all the right questions. If you told Chan about us, there’s no guarantee he keeps it to himself. He clearly already told Jungwon.”

He finally frees his sleeve from your grasp. “Can we at least take this somewhere private?” he whispers. You nod and he pulls you down the hall. He’s taking you to his room, you realize and the thought makes you sick.

Once safely inside of his room, he turns back to you with a fire in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about any of this if you forgave me.” It’s not the words you were expecting to hear, but they also don’t surprise you.

You try your best to compose yourself. “You ruined my career Seungcheol. Of course I never forgave you.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I clearly did not ruin your career. Look at yourself right now. You’re getting paid more than me. You’re way ahead of me in the championship. Your career is perfectly fine.” This comment starts what is basically a slightly hushed screaming match.

“I had to fight my way in and got lucky with McLaren. I had a guaranteed seat at RB and you know that.”

“You know it’s for the best that you didn’t end up there.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“What was I supposed to do, y/n. I couldn’t have stopped that press guy, I couldn’t have stopped Christian from releasing you, I couldn’t have controlled any of this. But you were the one that stopped talking to me. Just because we cut things off doesn’t mean I had to deal with radio silence for the next year.”

You pause, thinking over what you’re about to tell him. “I had to.”

He crosses his arms and he straightens his posture. “Bullshit.”

“I had to because of the press guy,” you tell him, urgently.

“We took care of him, y/n,” he deadpans at you. He’s getting uncomfortable with the conversation now. He can’t sit still.

Tears well in your eyes at the thought of releasing your biggest secret to the man you once loved. “He’s your fucking superfan Seungcheol. He’s been following you since your karting days, like a creep. That’s why he found us in the paddock that day. He was following you. And when he saw us together he took it as an opportunity. He saw me as a threat to your career. He didn’t just get rid of my Red Bull seat. He threatened me for months after through phone calls and emails, saying that if he ever saw me talking to you, he would end my career for good this time.”

The tears in your eyes have finally spilled. Seungcheol’s heart breaks, both at your words and at the sight of you crying. After a minute of gaping at the revelation, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head as he lets you sob into his chest.

“He,” you stutter, “he told me that if I didn’t let you win the F2 championship, he would kill me. That’s why I crashed at Baku and didn’t podium the rest of the year.” You rest your head back against his chest and sob again, harder this time.

Seungcheol reaches up to slowly stroke the back of your head, trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so, so sorry.”

He already knew everything was his fault, but this makes it so much worse. People were threatening to kill you because of him? Suddenly, it dawns on him. How much of an absolute dickhead he’s been. For years he’s been pretending to hate you, throwing mean comments at you, picking fights with you, all while you were trying to protect yourself. “Why did you play along?” he asks.

You don’t look up. Instead, you just let out a questioning hum into his chest.

“The rivalry,” he says. “Why did you play along with it if you didn’t really hate me?”

“It’s good for publicity” you joke. There’s the y/n he knows and loves. Loves. He hasn’t thought about you like that in a long time. Now that he knows the truth, he wants you back in his life so bad. But he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

“Is the guy still threatening you? Is that why you played along?”

You shake your head. “No. I was trying to negotiate for a bodyguard in my McLaren rookie contract and Andrea asked why. I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. It would’ve gotten out eventually I think, had Andrea not had him arrested.”

“But why y/n? I’m still trying to understand why you didn’t tell me this. Why did you make it seem like you hated me too?”

You finally look up at him again, brave enough to make eye contact once more. “I thought it was too late to tell you. I had already lied to you, ignored you. That’s not the best way to come back into someone’s life.”

“It was for your own safety. I would’ve understood that,” he tells you softly. Your eyes are bloodshot and the area underneath them is puffy. His heart aches. This is all because of him.

You shake your head again. “I didn’t think like that at the time. And you had already brought the rivalry into the media. Of course I would be mad at you when you were talking shit about me to the press.”

It’s not a guilt trip on purpose, but it still hits him where it hurts. “Ok, y/n. I get it. I’m a dick.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” you mumble, helplessly.

Silence overtakes you both. Despite the circumstances, it’s not an uncomfortable one. Just two people mulling over their thoughts. Eventually, he breaks it with a whisper of “I miss you.”

You whisper back an “I miss you too.” It’s real and genuine. You don’t say it because you feel like you have to. You say it because you want to. You hope he can pick up on that.

He does. His forehead comes to rest against yours as his hand strokes your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips and you hold your breath. As his lips find yours, you feel years of tension release. A stray tear runs down your face and he brushes it away with his thumb. He pulls away.

“Do you,” he breathes out, “do you want to try again?” All you can do is nod in response.

#choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagine #choi seungcheol #scoups f1 au #scoups x reader #scoups imagine #scoups #f1 au #svt #svt f1 au #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #enemies to lovers

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le-brave-des-braves · 5 months ago

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On the return of the Marshal

written by Pierre-Agathe Heymes, aide-de-camp du Maréchal Ney

I am no man of words and most of those I put on paper are those strictly related to the orders and the Maréchal's correspondence, but sometimes, I feel the need to speak, no matter if nobody will ever read it. One such occasion was the unjustified and untrue condemnation of my Marshal's conduct at the Battle of Waterloo. This is the second time and again, it has something to do with my commanding officer, which only proves my respect for this man.

He was gone. Nobody knew what happened. General Jomini assured me that he would take care of the staff and of the Corps and I didn't have the energy to tell him these efforts are barely needed as there is no war to be fought. Those were some quiet and depressing days.

But now, the Marshal is back and he is different. The first time I saw him, he was tightly hugging Maréchal Soult, and they both kept whispering words of apology to one another. My colleague Levavasseur then wrapped Maréchal Ney in a cloak and I have suspicion that the cloak belonged to neither of them, but it is not my place to judge the romantic endeavours of my love-sick colleague.

Since then, the Maréchal has been hiding from the world, and I feel the melancholia might do something with the upcoming 209th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. I do not know what happened to Michel Ney during his prolonged absence, but I am sure it was nothing good. He did not want to speak about it.

I wish I could do something for him. I wish I could do anything at all.

#heymes #the marshal’s ptsd #meine adjutanten sind idioten

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anthonys237thfreckle · 3 months ago

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I've been NEEDING some Javi & Scott angst, like the first night when Javi and Kate didn't set up the panel? (feel free to do romantic or platonic 🙏🙏)

I WROTE THIS BUT I DIDNT SAVE THE DRAFT

anyways here it is! i dont really write for scott but after a lot of research, i finally did! i rly hope this is okay lmao. Not the best at character x character, but theres a first time for everything!

i’m pretty inspired so i’ll write some javi x reader angst after this lol (i have sm free time until august 12th guys KEEP EM COMING)

please read the plot modification below, enjoy!

I love you, it’s ruining my life - Javier ‘Javi’ Rivera x Scott

prompt: Javi and Scott get into a heated argument

plot modification: Javi and Scott are still dating here!

TW: argument, mention of PTSD, getting shamed for PSTD, an explicit hand gesture, swearing

On the way to meeting Marshall Riggs, Javi and Scott’s investor, the tension in the car was thicker than the humid air in Oklahoma this summer. Neither said a word, Javi had his jaw clenched as he gripped the steering wheel, tight as a vice, his veins on his forearms showing. Scott looked out the window, chewing on his bottom lip, fiddling with the sunglasses in his hand, trying not to snap them out of pure impulse.

Scott’s mood was as sour as the unripe blueberries he’d grow to resent at the supermarket, chiding Javi for not being able to pick out produce; it was these little things that made him toxic - Javi was growing irritated.

Though, he was no saint either. Often biting back in arguments on how Scott grew to despise homosexual couples who lived perfect, happy lives with accepting parents in an accepting environment, how he can ‘never truly be happy for people who deserve it’.

Their relationship was hanging by a thread, and it was being teased by a razor.

Kate Carter.

“I still think we should head to El Reno” Javi said, shattering the silence “You know, Kate and I were talking-”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up about her?” Scott snapped, turning his head sharply to meet his even sharper gaze. Javi looked at him with bewilderment, and Scott rolled his eyes

“You really trust her word after she lost that picture perfect storm, Javi?” Scott said bitterly

“It wasn’t her fault” Javi said firmly, turning to meet Scotts gaze with his own equally sharp one.

“She got super overwhelmed, that storm brought out some bad memories for her” Javi explained for what felt like the hundredth time for him. He was tired of having to defend his best friend from his boyfriend, and Scott had been getting on his nerves more than he cared to admit. Just as he thought Scott was done being a prick, he only proved he wasn’t.

“Well, someone should keep their emotions in check” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Javi looked at him, a storm in his eyes.

“Okay, Scott, what the fuck.” Javi said, having enough of him. The anger and hurt was coursing through his veins, slipping into his tone.

“She has no goddamn ‘instincts’” Scott said with air quotes “She used a god damned dandelion to track our first storm.” He said, Kate’s more traditional ways clearly being judged by his more scientific ones.

“She grew up here, she knows what she’s doing” Javi defended “You know, Scott, you’re being a dick to her” Javi said, unimpressed. he turned his attention back to the road.

“We were real close in college. I know Kate, she has a god awful lot of potential” Javi said in a low tone, his message almost a threat.

“You should just date her at this point” Scott replied coldly. Javi was hot with rage. “Why is it whenever some straight, pretty girl comes along in my life you get so goddamn jealous?!” Javi snapped “She’s my best friend for god’s sake. We’ve been through some serious shit together” “So you think she’s pretty?!” Scott said, equally mad now.

“You know what?” Javi yelled, in a dangerous fury “Fuck you, Scott. I’m done. With you, with Storm Par, with exploiting innocent lives and being unethical.” He slammed on the breaks, unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car, not sparing a glance at Scott, who was surprised, but didn’t fight it. The relationship wasn’t worth fighting anymore.

It was ruining their lives

“Yeah, go run off to your girlfriend!” Scott yelled back at Javi, who winced. He wanted to say that his relationship with Kate was purely platonic, but he didn’t want to give Scott the satisfaction of pissing him off with his remark. But then again, by yelling back, he’d get the satisfaction of making Javi defensive.

So without looking back, Javi raised his fist, lifted his middle finger, and held it out for Scott, walking away on the dirt road in the opposite direction. He didn’t know where, he didn’t know for how long, he just knew he needed the air.

#foryou #fyp #tumblr fyp #anthony ramos #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters #anthony fucking ramos #javi rivera #javier rivera #scott twisters #twisters spoilers #david corenswet #javier x scott #javi x scott #angst #homosexuality ftw

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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago

Text

Recovery - Chapter 19

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em is confronted by Nicole about his relationship with Y/N.

Tags : Bit of angst ? - Fluff

MARSHALL’S POV

Y/N ended up staying in the hospital for a total of five days. For the first two, she slept almost uninterrupted. Then, she started to manage to stay awake a little longer. They could have sent her home a little earlier, in fact, she was supposed to get out after 72 hours, but she was apparently demonstrating signs of PTSD. In fact, she had a lot of nightmares, which was understandable as her memory was starting to process the events. So, just to make sure, they kept her in the hospital for a little longer, giving her a few things to reduce her skyrocketing anxiety. Of course, Marshall was by her side for the whole duration of her hospital stay. He only left when he needed to shower and change his clothes, letting Talia take over. The whole team from the studio made sure to visit Y/N, who was definitely showered with gifts and affection. The whole hospital bedroom had almost been turned into a flower garden, thanks to Josh. Marshall couldn’t help but think that none of the situation would have happened if he had been as good at handling his liquor as he was good at keeping the Detroit flower business alive. Josh actually showed up to the hospital a handful of times and Y/N seemed happy to have her boyfriend by her side. Whenever he was there, Marshall took the hint and left the room, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs and, sometimes, grab coffee with Nicole, if she happened to be working and able to go for a quick break.

Having his girlfriend work in the same hospital as Y/N was at was definitely an interesting experience. Whenever she was on break, she offered to bring him coffee in the room or suggested that they went for a quick walk. It was definitely sweet of her to offer, but he didn’t really want to : his attention was focused on Y/N and he didn’t want to take the risk of her waking up all alone in her room, especially since she hated hospitals. Eventually, what had to happen happened, and Nicole confronted him about Y/N, during one of their coffee breaks while Y/N was with Josh.

So, for how long have you been here ? She asked.

About four days, he said as he tried not to yawn. She’s going home tomorrow so tonight is my final night here.

And she needs you by her side ?

Well it’s… I don’t mind, he shrugged. I mean, she hates hospitals, so…

I see, she said. Marshall… ?

He sighed and looked at her, trying not to look too annoyed. He was exhausted and not in the mood for what he knew was about to come.

Yes ? He asked.

Obviously, we haven’t been dating too long, and your business is your business but… Should I be worried ? She asked gently.

About what ?

About Y/N, Nicole said. I mean, a girl can’t help but wonder, when she sees her date hanging around a 25 year-old, devoting so much time and energy… I guess I just want to know if I’m wasting my time here.

That’s fair, he sighed. Look, I… We’re close. And, yeah, I spend a lot of time with her. She’s my best friend and I care for her, you know ?

He knew he was lying through his teeth on that one. But he couldn’t exactly tell the woman he was dating that seeing Y/N lie in a hospital bed made him realize he was in love with her, right ? Even he knew that it would be a shitty thing to do. And it was not as if Nicole actually had anything to worry about. Nothing would ever happen between them. Right now, she was with Josh who had brought her yet another corny teddy bear and a bouquet (by now, he was probably just lacking imagination), probably planning their wedding. He couldn’t help but hear Talia’s words about them getting married. Obviously, they had just started dating, but at the pace they were going at, he wouldn’t even be surprised if Josh proposed in a month. Or maybe he was just grumpy and exhausted. But anyway, it wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to be having.

Right, Nicole said sheepishly. So… She’s a priority ?

Yup, he simply said. As I said, she’s my best friend and I care for her. She needs me, I’m there, that’s how it works.

He wasn’t expecting it (right now, all he was expecting was to pass out from exhaustion), but Nicole let out a laugh. He wasn’t sure if it was a genuine laugh and that maybe he had been funny without meaning to, or maybe she was nervous. He looked at her, a bit surprised.

And, you don’t get how I think that a grown man being best friends with a child might be a little inappropriate ? She asked as she was still laughing.

Inappropriate ? He asked. How the fuck would that be inappropriate ? You asked me what the deal is and I just told you.

You are at her beck and call. This girl has you wrapped around her finger and you don’t even seem to see it, she chuckled. Don’t you think she might be here for the wrong reasons ?

Nope, he said. There’s not a doubt in my mind about Y/N’s intentions. Now, if you’re not confident enough to deal with the fact she’s important to me… I can’t do much about it. That’s on you, not me.

She looked at him in surprise, her mouth slightly agape. She huffed and quickly drank the rest of her coffee.

Well, I should let you get back to her, then, she said dryly. The ER is packed and I have work to do. Plus, you probably don’t want to keep her waiting anyway. Thanks for coffee.

Before he had the chance to reply anything, she got up and left the cafeteria. He realized he was probably a bit too harsh with his words. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he was just pissed, grumpy and tired. In times like these, he wondered how people could seriously think of him as a womanizer. Obviously, he didn’t know shit about interacting with women. He sighed and got back to Y/N’s room. When he got there, he found her cuddling on the bed with Josh, looking at some books he brought. She was beaming, gently pressing her lips to his. At that moment, Marshall wasn’t sure whether he was about to pass out or puke.

Hey, you’re back, Y/N greeted him.

Yeah, he simply said.

I guess that’s my cue to leave, Josh told her. Why don’t I take you out to dinner tomorrow night, to celebrate you getting out of here ?

That would be lovely but I’m not sure about going out, she said softly. But maybe you could come for dinner and meet my roommates ? I think it’s time I introduced them to you.

I would love that, Josh said with a smile. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, sir.

Marshall tried not to groan as he settled in his chair. Great. Now she was literally introducing Josh to the people she considered as her closest family. He closed his eyes for a second and let out a small sigh.

Are you alright ? Y/N asked. You seem… tense ?

Just tired, he replied.

Why don’t you go home and rest ? She suggested.

I don’t feel like driving. My back hurts too much anyway, he said.

Come here, she said.

Why ? He groaned.

Just come, she insisted.

He went and sat next to her on the bed. She gestures for him to turn around and she ran her hands in his back, underneath his tee-shirt. He leaned into her soft touch, letting out a little groan.

God, I’ve never seen a knot this big, she said. No wonder why you’re tense.

She gently massaged his back. In a matter of minutes, the pain was relieved.

Fuck, he said. That was good.

I know right ? She chuckled. I’ve been told I’m a decent masseuse.

More than decent, he said with a smile. If I’d known about this sooner, I would have taken advantage of it.

She giggled and kept on massaging his back. He closed his eyes and relaxed. It felt good, though he wasn’t sure whether it was the release of the tension in his back or because she was the one touching him.

So, how is Nicole ? She asked.

Good question, he shrugged.

You just had coffee with your girlfriend and you don’t know how she is ? Y/N mused.

First of all, not my girlfriend, he replied. Secondly… Not my anything anymore, I guess.

What happened ? She asked, suddenly stopping her massage.

He groaned and sighed before looking at her. She seemed a bit confused.

Nothing, I guess, he shrugged.

Nothing ? You guess ? She asked.

Yeah well, what do you want ? He snapped. I blew it, that’s it.

Don’t take it out on me, she groaned.

Sorry honey, he said softly. I’m just exhausted. And I guess I sort of took it out on Nicole too. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to anyone when I’m this tired.

Say more, Y/N replied.

I don’t really know what her deal is, he shrugged. She asked if she should be worried about you and I spending so much time together.

His best friend rolled her eyes and shook her head.

And you don’t know what the deal is ? She chuckled. That’s an easy one.

Walk me through it, he sighed. Since you seem to know everything.

She was giving you an opportunity to tell her how much you like her, Y/N explained.

I mean, she could have asked, he said as he rolled his eyes.

You know absolutely nothing about women, do you ? She giggled.

Apparently not, he said as he rolled his eyes.

It’s simple : we want to know if you guys can come through for us, on your own, she said. We could ask the questions, but then it might give you an idea of what the right answer is. It’s better if you come up with gestures on your own. Like… You can tell a guy that you’d enjoy a nice bouquet of flowers, but it’s so much more meaningful if he takes the initiative on his own.

He hummed. What she was saying made sense but, at the same time, it really didn’t. No wonder he had stayed single for so long : getting a PhD in astrophysics seemed simpler than understanding women.

How about the rose garden we’ve got going on here ? He asked with a grin. Is that an initiative ?

It is, she giggled. Imagine what it would be like if I actually asked for flowers. I think he’d get a little carried away.

You think ? He chuckled. I mean, shout out to him for keeping the flower business alive, I guess… And the stuffed animal business, too. You’ve got bears, a duck and… a lobster ?… Like, what the fuck ?

She burst out in a fit of laughter and grabbed the lobster plushy, giving it a little kiss.

That’s an inside joke, she said softly. You know, in Friends, when Phoebe tells Rachel that Ross might be her lobster ? Well today, he told me that he thinks I’m his lobster, and he gave me this. It’s super sweet.

It’s corny as fuck, he stated with a grin.

Well, I like it, she shrugged.

Is he your lobster ? He couldn’t help but ask.

I guess. I mean, look at all of this…, she said as she gestured around the room. No one’s ever cared for me like this.

Marshall felt this one deep in his soul. Like a gut punch. Of course someone cared for her like this. Himself. Even more than that. He said nothing for a second and stared at her. She was looking at him and smiling, but there was a hint of melancholy in her eyes.

I’ve had good relationships, you know, she added. But no one like Josh. I think that… If it doesn’t work with him, it’s not going to work with anybody. From that first date, he hasn’t stopped courting me and proving to me how much he likes me. That’s what every girl wants, right ?

Then why do you look so sad ? He asked.

She lowered her gaze and he noticed that her lip was quivering, as if she was about to cry.

I guess I’m just tired, she said. And, you know, people have been so good to me lately, it’s making me emotional. But I’m… I’m good, you know ?

People are good to you because you deserve it, he said. They love you. I love you.

I love you too, Marsh, she said with a smile. Thank you for being my best friend.

“Not what I meant”, he thought to himself. He got closer to her and gently kissed her forehead.

So, what are you going to do about Nicole ? She asked.

I don’t think there’s much to do, he shrugged.

You said you liked her, Y/N stated.

I do, he agreed.

And that she was great.

She is, he agreed again. But if she can’t handle the fact that you’re my priority right now, I don’t think there’s much I can do.

Maybe I shouldn’t be your priority, she replied with a hint of sadness.

Why would you even say that ? He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

I love having you by my side, Marsh, she said. But I know you have things to do. You should be working instead of wasting your time here with me. You have other people in your life. You have Nicole.

I’m here because I want to be, Y/N, he said as he put a strand of hair behind her shoulder. As long as you’re here, I’m here. I’m not leaving you alone when I know full well you hate hospitals and you’re having nightmares.

Talia offered to take over, you know ?

I know, but she has to work, he shrugged. I don’t.

Except you kind of do, she said.

Except I’m kind of my own boss, he said sternly. Plus, I think everyone at the studio could do with a break anyway. Now, I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me you want me to leave. Do you want me to leave ?

I don’t, she said with a small smile. Although I think you’d sleep better in your house.

I’ve been on tour, he said. If I can sleep in a tour bus full of people, I can sleep in a hospital room.

You’re getting rid of me tomorrow anyway, she said with a smile.

You know I’ll still be here, right ?

It’s fine, she said. I’ll have Talia and Jamal at home. And Josh offered to take care of me too.

Ok, he simply said.

Now, who’s taking care of you ? She asked.

What do you mean ? He asked with a yawn.

Look, she said, you like Nicole, you think she’s great and I don’t want to be the reason why you guys are arguing. I know how guarded you can be, and how little you care for dating but… If you like her, if you think she’s great and if Hailie thinks she’s good for you… You should allow yourself to be happy. You deserve it more than anyone I know.

We’ll see, he sighed. Look, can we… Talk about that later ? I’m too tired for this.

Do you want to sleep ?

Yeah, if you don’t mind, he replied as he got up to go back to the chair.

Don’t be silly, Marshall. You can sleep here, she said as she gestured for him to come back on the bed and made a little room for him.

He took off his shoes and layed next to her. She let out a little yawn and he couldn’t help but pull her closer to him. She was too cute.

Thank you honey, he said softly.

Good night, she said as she closed her eyes and let her head roll on his shoulder.

Thirty seconds later, she was asleep. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her features. He pulled the cover over her, making sure she wouldn’t be too cold for the night. He noticed that her lobster was next to her and he couldn’t resist the urge to push that awful thing out of the way, letting it fall on the floor. No way he was sleeping next to that. Sorry Josh. He grinned at his own immaturity and closed his eyes, focusing on the only thing that actually mattered : the steady breath of the girl sleeping next to him.

Y/N’s POV

You were woken up by the door opening. It was the nurse, coming in to check up on you. Marshall was still sleeping next to you, an arm draped across your body. Almost as if he was protecting you. As soon as she saw him lying in bed with you, she frowned.

Someone’s sleeping soundly, she said with a displeased face.

He could use it, you said softly.

I know, he’s been here for days, she said. Wouldn’t let us throw him out anyway.

Thank you for allowing him to stay, you replied.

How are you feeling tonight ? She asked. How is the anxiety ?

A little better, you said.

Good. If you need, I can ask the doctor to give you a sedative, she said.

I think I’ll be fine for tonight, you said.

You felt Marshall stirring. He let out a small groan and changed position, one of his legs going over yours. You let out a small laugh as you noticed he was taking up more and more space in his sleep.

I think you’ll be fine indeed, she grinned. You can also tell your “uncle” that he’s not fooling anyone.

My what ? You asked in disbelief.

Exactly, she said. Have a good night, dear. And enjoy, good men like this are hard to come by.

She gave you a smile and left. You chuckled softly. Men as good as Marshall were, indeed, a rarity. You knew just how lucky you were to have him by your side. He was the most incredible person you knew, and all you wished for was for him to be happy. He deserved it. Even though the thought of him with another woman was breaking your heart, it made you a little sad to know that he had a little falling out with Nicole. From what you gathered, she was a good match for him. Probably even more so than you. You felt a little guilty at the idea that you might be the cause of an argument. He was the most amazing man you knew and he deserved the utmost happiness. So, even though it shattered your heart and your soul, you had encouraged him to patch things up with her. You were in love with him, but you knew these feelings were unrequited on his part, so you weren’t even hoping for a chance, here. You might have had one in the past, but it was long gone. Plus, Josh and yourself had a good thing going on, too. Yes, you had started dating him in hope to get your mind off Marshall, but you were starting to have feelings. It was not love, not quite yet, but you were sure it would grow. It had to : if the universe had someone in store for you, and it was not Marshall Mathers, it had to be Josh. Because he was ticking every box. You wanted to give this relationship a chance, because even though your boyfriend was not the one you thought about when you went to bed at night, he was making you incredibly happy, and you cared for him deeply. And it was all that mattered, right ? You just hoped that, in time, you would be able to let go of your feelings for Marshall. Because it wasn’t fair to Josh and you almost hated yourself for it. But you were ready to commit to this relationship. Josh deserved it.

For now, though, you stared at Marshall and his perfect features. His face was incredibly close to yours, thanks to the small bed you were sharing. You gently ran your fingers through his short hair and kissed his forehead.

Mmmh. I love you, you heard him say in a sleepy voice that made your heart melt.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

Text

A Fresh Start [15]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety, PTSD-esque panic attack, talk of medical trauma

Word Count: 6,035

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

#15: MANDO LOOKS LIKE HE KNOWS HOW TO FUCK

Chapter Summary: The time has come to talk about your past, but you can’t imagine a world where the Marshal doesn’t hate you for what you’ve done. Nima is Nima.

“I think we made a perfect fit because we were both broken, had we been whole, we wouldn’t have connected like we did.” -Eric Inzunza

It had been a wild 24 hours for you. Grogu got sick, your Marshal Mandalorian took his helmet off to cuddle up beside you in the bathroom with said sick child, said Marshal Mandalorian then told you his name, pirates invaded the outskirts of Nevarro, you threatened a cowardly doctor with blackmail you garnered from your past, Grogu got sicker, you held a medical tech at blaster point, you worked with medicine for the first time in over a year, Grogu got better, then you and Din Djarin got handsy in the bathroom. The chaotic whirlwind of events had your head spinning, but that very last encounter grounded you fairly well. If someone had told you that you’d go from learning your boss’ name to letting him strip you nearly bare in the bathroom a day later you would’ve laughed.

“Mando!” You called out to the man getting dressed back in the rooms. The man who had to get dressed because you had been in the process of taking his clothes off. Oh, your brain was not functioning enough to really grasp this at all. “It’s Karga!”

The introduction of the High Magistrate into this tricky equation only baffled you further. He stood in the foyer, dressed in his rather gaudy robes, while you stood in front of him wearing only Din’s shirt. You tugged down the edges of his shirt to further cover yourself. Maybe if Din’s warm hands hadn’t broken your brain you would’ve thought to grab a blanket to cover yourself. Or pants.

“He’s getting⏤” You paused. It would look pretty damning if you told him Din was in the process of getting dressed. Though, the state you were in was probably already pretty damning. “Mando will be here in a second.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m actually here for you.” Karga replied. “How’s Grogu?”

You blinked in a poor attempt to jump from the first statement to the casual question. “Good.” You blurted. “Stable.” You kept repeating the word ‘stable’ and you wondered if it was in part due to trying to convince yourself. Grogu was stable. Grogu was safe. Grogu was healing. You motioned over your shoulder. “Would you mind if I stepped out to grab a pair of pants?”

Not a question you thought you’d be asking the High Magistrate of Nevarro, but as you had already realized this was not a predictable 24 hours.

“I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, I insist.” Karga replied.

“Great.” You pulled Din’s shirt down further and rushed away.

On your way back to the rooms, you nearly collided with a wall of beskar. Before you could stumble back, Din grabbed your upper arm to catch you. The firm grip of his gloved hand had your face growing warm which was absolutely ridiculous compared to where he had tried to put his hands only minutes ago. Din, unaware of the effect he had on you, shook his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, I need pants.”

“No, you don’t.” Din replied without missing a beat. You narrowed your eyes at him, glanced down at himself, then looked back up in question. Din leaned in, keeping his voice low, “We’re not done, ner kar’ta.” That same powerful wave of desire returned. The way his voice alone could make your toes curl… “Wait for me. I won’t be long with Karga.”

You were so stupid drunk off the thought of him alone, you almost nodded in agreement. Reality settled back into place though, and you shook your head. “I can’t. Karga isn’t here for you. He’s, apparently, here for me?”

Din was silent for a second before he began to pass you. “I’ll handle this.”

Though you liked the idea of Din sending Karga away for whatever reason he was here, you were beginning to grow curious as to why the High Magistrate was interested in you at all. You were fairly certain, up until now, that he only knew you as Grogu’s nanny. The thought was sobering. Grogu’s nanny. That’s where this all started⏤ that was the island that had gotten lost in the horizon as you sailed out to grasp the connection you had with the child’s father.

Not now. You’d save those terribly, depressing thoughts for a day you weren’t riding a high⏤ a day where you didn’t know what Din’s rough hands felt like against your skin. Quickly, you rushed back into the bathroom to find and slip your pants back on before heading back to the living room.

Karga had entered in further, but he remained standing by the couch. He was the picture of casual nonchalance, but Din’s entire body seemed stiff. This only seemed to worsen when you drifted closer and the High Magistrate’s attention focused on you.

“There she is. Woman of the hour! And wearing pants this time⏤”

“Karga.” Din snapped.

Karga waved a finger at the Mandalorian. “I jest, my old friend. Is a little teasing not allowed?” Din didn’t respond. You took that as a sign to also not respond. Karga shook his head with a sigh. “Straight to business, as always.”

You stepped closer and set a hand on Din’s arm. “What can I help you with, High Magistrate?”

“I always liked her.” Karga said to Din before smiling at you. “Which is why I’d like to offer you a job. It seems Nevarro is short one physician.” The hand you set on Din to reassure him fell to your side in shock. Had he just⏤? Your chest felt tight and you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “Well, more than just one physician short, I should say. Technically, on this entire planet, we only have one broken droid and a physician who likes to play nanny.”

“Karga!” Din snapped again.

You shook your head. “I’m not⏤”

“Oh, we’re past denial. Aren’t we?” Karga asked. Then, he said your name. Din’s head turned to stare at you as well, but all you could focus on was the feeling of the blood running out of your face. Were you falling? It felt like you were falling head over heels. The room was beginning to tilt. Karga reached into his robes’ pocket and held up a holopad. You recognized your face. It was the picture used on your medical badge back when you were employed. Karga had your whole work file right there in his hands. Your charade was crumbling right before your eyes. “I know everything, Doctor. Honestly, I’m impressed. Your marks and experience could get you a job damn near anywhere in this galaxy, and there’s a transcript here saying the court settled in your favor. You never lost your license. Plus, you’re quite the fighter as well.”

You were going to be sick. Nausea caused your stomach to churn uncomfortably.

“You had no right, Karga.” Din barked. “What makes you think you can⏤”

“High Magistrate or not, I think you’re forgetting my roots, Mando.” Karga raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t become one of the most renowned agents of the guild by playing nice or respecting boundaries.” He glanced at you and gave you a half hearted shrug. “It’s not personal. I do what I must to get what I need. And right now, that’s you.”

“I have to⏤ I⏤” You took a shaky step back. Din reached out for you, but you quickly took another to keep from his grasp. His hand closed around air, and you immediately felt bad for dodging him. Still, you couldn’t be here. Not right now. Not with the room closing in. You turned and rushed away.

Din watched you hurry out of the room and he had to resist the urge to turn around and maim Karga. He glared at his old friend, hands balled up into fists, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nevarro needs a medical team, Mando. We can’t ship off every emergency.”

“Then hire some new ones from off world.” Din replied through clenched teeth.

“I’m trying, but it’s a hard sell.” Karga scoffed. “Do you know how perfect she is? An incredible physician too traumatized to get the job she truly deserves in the Inner Rim⏤” Din snapped at him, but he didn’t stop. “And now she has ties here? At first I figured it was just Nima, but now I suppose she has you as well. I assume that’s why you’re in such a foul mood. I interrupted something.”

Din lunged forward and before a thought could occur he had Karga’s robes bunched into his fist. He resisted actually hitting the man, and Din could see on Karga’s face that the man knew he had overstepped. Karga held his hands up in surrender. One still holding the holopad.

“I’m sorry, friend.” Karga said simply. “You must understand how desperate I am right now. No community can thrive without proper medical care. Maker forbid something awful happens before I can convince a different physician to come.” Din shoved Karga back and set his hands on his hips. Karga held out the holopad to him. “Aren’t you curious about her past? Don’t you want to know more about her?”

“I do.” Din replied. He took the holopad from Karga and kept it by his side. “But only if she wants to share it with me. Now, get out of our house.”

Karga gave a small nod before backpedaling away. Din was set to turn and find you, but he stopped when Karga called out to him. The High Magistrate offered a small smile as some kind of peace offering, but his words were more a salve than his emotion. “I have my feelers out looking for Daelar. Not a public bounty, but a private one. You wanna know when I find him?”

“Yes.” Din replied. “Bring me the puck.”

“I thought you weren’t a bounty hunter anymore.”

“I’m not. This is personal.” Din said. “He put my family in danger. He doesn’t get to walk away from that.”

Karga smirked. “Now, there’s the bloodthirsty Mandalorian I know and love.”

Without another word, he left and Din was stuck standing alone in his living room. He wasn’t sure how such an incredible start to his morning could turn sour so quickly, but it wasn’t worth exploring. Din needed to check in on you.

The plan had been to barrel through the house and put as much distance between you and that holopad as possible⏤ even if it meant breaking through the patio glass doors, hopping the small fence, and escaping into the neighboring lava plains. The only thing that stopped you, the only thing that could stop you, was the quiet whine you’d recognize anywhere. Grogu. You came to a skidding stop outside Din’s bedroom door and immediately rushed in. The child was shifting in his hammock, fussy. It only took you seconds to gather him into your arms and at your touch he fell back into a restful slumber.

Rocking him carefully, you carried him out of the bedroom and continued down the hall until you reached the glass doors that led out to a small back patio. You didn’t come out here often. Though maybe you would start. There was a small, round table with a few matching metal chairs surrounding it. You had a view of the lava plains, could even see a bit of the hot springs, and it was peaceful. That’s how you should feel right now. At peace. You had Grogu sleeping in your arms, no fever and no cough, and the morning air was comfortably warm and quiet.

But Grogu was a reminder of the patient you had once failed, and the quiet left room for Karga’s words to echo loudly in your head. There was a little voice at the back of your mind whispering that you needed to run. You needed to flee. If you weren’t known, then you weren’t in danger. However, things weren’t so simple anymore. The little boy sleeping in your arms was evidence of that. Realistically, Grogu was not yours. He was the child you were paid to care for and since this was technically just a job it should be easy to turn in a resignation and walk away. Emotionally, this was not the case.

Even with the knowledge that Karga was familiar with your entire past, you couldn’t bring yourself to start planning an off world escape. You traced the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose. You were foolish to let your walls down⏤ to grow so attached. The door behind you slid open and Din stepped out.

“Grogu is alright.” You said before he could ask. “I think he’ll be up soon. He got fussy when I was walking by so I grabbed him.” The other seat was across the table from you. Rather than just sit, Din picked up the metal chair by the back and pulled it closer so he’d be right beside you. You couldn’t bare to bring your gaze up, away from Grogu, to the man beside you. “I’m thinking we should keep him out of school tomorrow. See how he’s feeling then.”

Din’s hand entered your view and he settled it on your thigh. It was technically similar to the hold he had you in earlier, while kneeling in front of you, but this was one born of comfort rather than lust. He squeezed your thigh then spoke, “How are you feeling, ner kar’ta?”

A dry chuckle fell from your lips. “You know my name now. You don’t have to use nicknames anymore.”

“Not knowing your name had nothing to do with my choice in what to call you.” Din replied. “And knowing your name now is not the same as it being given to me. I understand the difference.”

There was something about his words that made tears spring to your eyes. Maybe it was the softness in his whispered tone or the unhindered understanding he seemed to share. Kriff, maybe it was just your emotional capabilities being shitty right now because of how devastating it was to hear Karga say your name, file in hand.

You lifted your eyes to meet the familiar t-shape of his visor. Briefly, you wished you could see his face. There was a weight in his gaze, despite not being able to see his eyes, and you wanted more than anything to see it rather than just feel it. As soon as the thought came to you, you felt ashamed. Din’s creed was important to him, and you shouldn’t be sitting here wishing it away for the sake of your comfort.

“It doesn’t bother you that you hired a stranger to be your nanny?” You asked⏤ your voice was shakier than you wanted it to be. “I lied to you. About my name, about my work experience. Though, I did say I worked in a medical clinic. So maybe I only lose half a point there.”

Din chuckled. “You don’t lose any points. I’m not keeping score.”

“Why aren’t you upset at me?” You shook your head. “After hearing all of that, all of a sudden, you should… I don’t know.”

“It wasn’t all of a sudden. I’ve had… suspicions.” Din said. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He sighed, “You don’t answer to Soran the way someone would if it were their actual name. You even called it out after a nightmare. Then, the way you reacted to being in a clinic and your thoughts on my choices of first aid care?” Din shook his head with another short chuckle. “Only someone with a medical background would care that much about the risks and benefits of bacta or cautery. There was also all of last night…”

You nodded. “I knew last night would’ve given me away. I didn’t think I had been so obvious about everything else though.”

“I just pay attention.”

“Must be an important talent for a bounty hunter.”

Din paused, his fingers tightening around your thigh once more, “It has nothing to do with my past work experience and everything to do with you.” Your cheeks warmed. “I pay attention to you.”

There was an intensity about Din Djarin that was surprisingly hypnotizing. With his tall broad frame, intimidating beskar armor, and blank helmet the intensity should be terrifying. Despite all that though, being the center of his attention was intoxicating. Almost enough so that you were nearly distracted from the topic at hand. You wished you could get lost in his attention, forget about the weight bearing down on your shoulders, but your eyes darted to the holopad Din had set on the table. Din turned his head to follow your gaze then shook his head.

“I didn’t read it. And, Karga didn’t say anything further about you.” Din reassured. “He wouldn't dare.”

“Right.” You chuckled. “Digging up my past is perfectly fine, but he wouldn’t ever cross the boundary of talking about me to others. Because he’s the respectful kind.”

“Because he knows I’d kriffing end his existence if he tried.”

Listening to a man threaten someone for your sake shouldn’t be as attractive as it was, and yet… You focused back on Grogu and lightly traced your fingers along the length of his ears. Din wasn’t the kind bothered by long silences. He was comfortable to sit there patiently as your brain racked itself for an answer or some next step to take. The entire time his thumb rubbed circles on your thigh.

“Do you…” You took a deep breath and looked back to the man beside you. “Do you want to know about…me?”

“I want to know everything you’re willing to share, ner kar’ta.” He replied. Din shifted so while one hand rested on your thigh the other rested on the back of your chair. It gave you the sensation of being cornered, but with Din that didn’t have a negative connotation. Rather than feeling trapped, you felt protected. As if Din was some kind of barrier between you and the world. “But, you don’t have to do this now. This should be something you share because you want to⏤ not because someone else pushed you into it. I’m sorry Karga did this.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I want…” You paused, and as the next words came to you it felt like a truth you hadn’t even realized you felt. “I think I want you to know. I just⏤” There was a lump in your throat that you had to swallow down before the rest of your sentence came out in a weak whisper. “I’m afraid you won’t see me the same anymore. It’s been so long. I’m afraid to⏤ to be known.”

“Don’t.” Din said firmly. “Don’t be. There is nothing you could say that would change how I⏤” He stopped himself from continuing and your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden cessation of his voice. Like he was choking on his own words. “Gar cuyir ner kar’ta. Ibac kelir draar am.”

You didn’t know what he said. You recognized the words he used as your newest nickname, but you were still clueless as to what that meant. Still, despite that, his words brought you a warm comfort. Din tended to slip into Mando’a when emotions rose or when speaking to Grogu. You wondered if it felt more natural to him to express himself in this language rather than Basic.

“I killed my best friend.” You blurted. If Din was caught off guard by your sudden admission, rather than you just questioning his Mando’a, he didn’t show it⏤ not that you’d be able tell through his helmet.

“Was her name Soran?” Din asked. You nodded once. “What happened?”

“There was an accident. Starship collision. It took out…” You shrugged. “We got swamped in the emergency room. That’s where I was working at the time. I saw patient after patient non-stop and then… then there was Soran. She came in⏤ she was dying. I tried to find a physician to take over. I knew I was too close to her to be⏤ but we all⏤ there was so much going on.” As the memory played out you felt your heart start to race. The smell of blood, bacta, and bitter antiseptic filled your nose. You would’ve fallen into the moment entirely if it weren’t for the firm grip squeezing your thigh once more. You took in a slow breath. “I was the only one available. I had to act and I did. But, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

“Ner kar’ta…”

A soft whimper from your arms made you glance down to see Grogu was beginning to rouse. He mumbled a few unintelligible words before one you recognized was spoken. “Buir…”

“Din.” You turned and motioned for him to take the boy. He didn’t hesitate to pull Grogu into his own arms and Grogu, in response, buried his face into the crook of Din’s neck. Your lips curled up into a small smile. “You should go in with him. Seeing your face would do him a lot of good.”

“You should come in too.” Din replied, rubbing his son’s back soothingly. “You need rest. The sleep on the cot couldn’t have been restful.”

You shook your head and stood. Din tilted his head to stare up at you. “I, um, I think I’m gonna take a walk.” Din began to speak, but you cut in. “I’m fine, Din. Really. I wanted to check on Nima anyways after the whole pirate attack.”

“Alright.” Din slowly stood. “Can I… Can I look at your file?”

You nodded with a shrug. “I already admitted to the worst of my sins. The file won’t have much else.”

With one arm holding Grogu to his chest, Din reached out to cup the side of your face. He lightly tugged you toward him so he could rest his forehead against yours. The cool bite of beskar against your flushed skin made you let out a soft sigh and your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy the moment of peace.

“Come home soon, ner kar’ta.”

This was a shitty day off. Karga really needed to learn the definition of ‘taking a break’. Honestly, it was partly Din’s fault for believing the man was truly going to let him have a full day of rest. It did feel more like a day off now. Din had taken off his armor, changed into a pair of comfortable house clothes, and now he lounged on the couch with Grogu babbling on his chest. His son had fully woken up from his extended nap, and he was nearly back to his usual, energetic self. Grogu was still a little clingier than normal, but that didn’t surprise Din nor did he mind it.

“Mhmm. Tell me all about it, ad’ika.” Din hummed while stroking his son’s ears. Every few words Grogu would make sense, but most of it was just a stream of constant babbling. Din nodded. “I know.”

This moment would feel like the perfect day off if it wasn’t for the lack of you and the dreadful holopad sitting on the couch beside him. Din knew there had to be more to the story. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Maker, after last night there was no one he trusted more. Din just had a gut feeling that you were the kind to carry guilt even when it wasn’t yours to carry. He knew if this truly were the case, then any story you told him would be painted with a negative light toward yourself.

“Ma?” Grogu suddenly asked. Din sighed and readjusted so the one hand that wasn’t scratching his son’s back was resting behind his head. He couldn’t find it himself to be upset over this newest revelation over your past. Logically, maybe he should be, but you still felt like you. From the beginning, Din knew you had been hiding something and that something had saved his son’s life. Din had no room to complain. He was more disappointed that his morning had gone into a different direction than it started. When Din didn’t offer Grogu a real answer the boy reached out to pat Din on the cheek repeatedly⏤ your title emphasized with each pat. “Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma.”

Din chuckled and sat up quickly. Grogu squealed in laughter when Din rubbed his face against his son’s belly, tickling him, then cradled him closer. Maker, he was so relieved to hear Grogu laugh rather than cough. “I miss ma too, ad’ika. She’ll be back soon.” Grogu grumbled and huffed an annoyed sigh. Din chuckled and lightly tapped his forehead against Grogu’s. “Ma did such a good job of taking care of you, didn’t she?”

“ ‘lek.”

“She’s incredible, huh?” Din breathed. Grogu wiggled out of his grip to jump onto the floor and began to waddle away. He called out ‘Ma’ as he waddled toward the hallway toward the bedrooms⏤ as if he didn’t believe that she was actually away. Din’s hand drifted to his chest where one of his larger scars lay and he could still feel your touch ghosting over it. If he closed his eyes he could imagine your lips tenderly brushing against every scar you found on him.

Maker, why did Karga have to show up when he did? The High Magistrate couldn’t have waited an hour more? Two? Karga was worse than a cold shower.

Din reached back to grasp the holopad and brought it into focus. When he turned it on, your smiling face greeted him. In the head shot, your hair was pulled away from your face and you wore a pair of light green scrubs and a white coat. His eyes traced the lines that made up your name and he rolled it around his mind⏤ not daring to say it out loud. It suited you much better than the name Soran did. Still, you hadn’t offered the name for him to use so he wouldn’t. Besides, he liked using terms of endearment for you. Din liked the way your face would brighten every time he referred to you in Mando’a.

“Ma! Where?” Grogu called out. Din looked up from the holopad to see Grogu waddling back with his stuffed frog. He must have gotten side tracked in his search for you to grab it. “Buir, mar’eyir Ma!”

Din chuckled. “I told you. Ma will be back soon. Come here, you little womp rat.” Grogu grumbled, but he did return. Din scooped him up with one arm and Grogu burrowed his head into his side. “Kai’tomyc, ad’ika?”

Grogu shook his head and mumbled a soft ‘no’. It was odd for him to turn down any offer for food. That must be the last remaining sign of his illness. Din didn’t think he’d ever miss having to stop his son from trying to small critters whole, but he’d give anything to be chasing Grogu down right now. Things would be back to normal once the boy’s appetite returned.

Din leaned back against the couch once more, gently rocking Grogu in one arm, while tapping through the holopad with his other hand. You had given him permission to read through the holopad, and Din planned to soak up every single fact about you that he was allowed to know.

Nima lived on the other side of Nevarro, closer to Peli’s shop, but the walk gave you time to think. You were trying to figure out if this was considered running. If Grogu hadn’t started waking up, would you have kept going? What was left of your story? There wasn’t much else to say about Soran, and there was zero part of you that wanted to delve into how you got your scar. The way Din offered you comfort, his kind words and firm touches, no part of you felt like running from that. And, you did really want to check on Nima and give him time with Grogu. Maybe you weren’t running.

Not yet, at least.

There was always the chance Din would think about it during the time you were gone, replay your words in his head, and come to his senses. Realize that he had hired a lying stranger to care for his child. Din said nothing would make him view you different, but what if that had just been a spur of the moment comfort? What if he came to see you as an irresponsible threat?

Your spiraling bad thoughts came to halt when Nima’s door was in view. In hopes that she could distract you further, you quickly knocked on the door. It took a couple minutes before you heard Nima’s rushed footsteps. A second later the door cracked open and Nima’s face poked through. Her dark eyes widened.

“Oh. Hey.” She greeted. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to check in on you. After the⏤ the pirate ordeal.” You crossed your arms tight over your chest. “Are you okay?”

Nima shrugged. “Yeah. Better than okay. The last 24 hours have worked out great for me.” Her lips turned out into a wide grin. “I got to fly the N1 which was super cool and then… then other things happened. Uh, are you okay? How’s Grogu? I heard he was sick.”

“Grogu is good. Stable.” You nodded. You were surprised to hear she flew Din’s ship and even more surprised to hear she knew about Grogu. Only a few people knew about that right now. “Well, since you’re alright…”

Nima stepped out onto her porch and glanced back through the cracked door, as if looking for someone, then shut it. It was then you noticed she had only a robe on. Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed in a familiar concern. “You didn’t tell me if you were okay. What’s going on?”

“I’ve had a… weird night.” You admitted.

Your old friend motioned for you to take a seat on the small bench sitting on her small front porch. You sat down and she dropped down right beside you. With no hesitation, you began to ramble about everything starting with waking up to Grogu being sick all the way to Karga turning your world upside down. When your story came to an end, you glanced over at Nima to see she was beaming at you with wide and excited eyes.

“What⏤”

“You and the Marshal!?” She cried.

“Is that the only part you heard?” You sighed. “Did you miss the part where Karga might be bullying me into being the town’s doctor??”

Nima scoffed. “As if you’d let him bully you into anything. As if Mando would ever let him bully you into anything. Especially now!” She bounced in her seat once. “Oh, I knew the two of you had chemistry! I just knew it!” Nima grasped at your arm. “How was he? I don’t know what it is, but Mando looks like he knows how to fuck, if you know what I mean.”

“We didn’t.”

“But you just said⏤”

“We… didn’t.” You said slowly. “We almost did. If I hadn’t stopped him I’m pretty we would’ve…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the words. Nima squealed and your face grew even hotter. You shook your head. “And then I had my hands literally in his pants when Karga showed up so⏤”

Nima cried out and covered her face. “Oh kriffing hell! I don’t know who I’m more pissed at!” She dropped her hands to shove you. “You for stopping Mando or Karga for cock blocking you.”

“I had to stop him.” You replied.

“No, you absolutely did not! You⏤”

“The moment was…” You interrupted her to try and put what you felt into words. “I’ve never felt like that before. Just from a man taking my clothes off.”

Nima narrowed her eyes at you. “You’ve never felt turned on by a man taking your clothes off?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“Good. I was about to be really worried about you.”

You leaned back into the bench. “It was more than that. Obviously, I was turned on, but it was… I’ve never felt so…seen. Like he could see all of me.” Din had been wearing a helmet that blocked all view of his features, but the way his hidden gaze traced your body as his fingers caressed your skin you felt like something precious. Like some kind of treasure he was studying and admiring. “And I wanted to see him in return. As much of him as I was allowed, at least.”

“So… you saw him. Like, saw him, saw him?” Nima asked.

“Yes?” You shrugged. A sighed then left your lips as you shook your head. “I thought I had been touch starved after a year of hiding on my own, but you should’ve seen him, Nima. He didn’t even believe me when I told him how beautiful he was and, stars, he was gorgeous. Everything about him is…”

Nima chuckled. “Girl, you got it baaad.” You covered your face with your hands knowing she was absolutely right. “I’m still baffled you saw any of him. I can’t even fathom the thought of seeing his hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never shows anybody his skin.” Nima shrugged. “You have to have noticed that. I’ve never seen⏤ oh, wait. Actually once, when he came to pick up Grogu, he bent over to scoop the kid up and I saw a flash of his bare wrist between his glove and gauntlet. I was worried he’d have to kill me for that.”

It made sense. He never showed any of his skin out in public and even today when Karga showed up. Din had taken the time to put on his full suit of armor rather than just slipping into his home clothes. What confused you was the fact that you had seen his bare skin so soon into living with him. Literal days and Din had already trusted you with more than he did the public. Was it because you were just in his home and around Grogu so out of default you got to see him that way? Or was it something else entirely?

“I guess I should also ask,” Nima spoke up, “What’re you gonna do about Karga?”

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

“Did you talk to Mando about… you know…”

“About how I killed Soran?” You finished.

Nima scoffed. “No. You know that’s not what happened. You did everything you could.”

“And it wasn’t enough.”

“Maker, you’re the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met.” Nima groaned. You narrowed your eyes at her in a glare. She just shrugged. “You know my opinion on the matter. What’s Mando’s opinion?”

You grumbled, “I don’t know. I came here before he could say. Left him with my file though. So, I might be coming back to a storm.” You crossed your arms. “If I get fired and kicked out of the house can I stay with you?”

“No.” Nima shook her head.

“Wow, thanks.”

“You’re not gonna get fired, you idiot.” Nima scoffed. “And you’re not gonna get any closure sitting here with me.” She stood and motioned with her arms for you to rise. You pushed up and Nima pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed once but returned the hug with a smile. She pulled back and winked at you. “Now, go back and finish what you started. Either the emotional stuff or the physical stuff. Your choice.”

You nodded and stepped off her porch as Nima skipped to her door. You paused and shot her a smirk. “Oh, and hey, tell Cara I said hello.”

“I will!” Nima chirped. Her eyes suddenly widened and her mouth fell slack. You laughed and she shook her head. “I mean, I will when I see her next. Whenever that is. Because she’s definitely not here. Why would she be here??”

“Uh huh.” You replied.

“Shut up and go fuck the Marshal.” Nima stuck her tongue out at you and hurried back into her house. With her out of sight, your smile faltered and you turned to make your way back home. It was time to face the music.

a/n: how do y’all feel about long chapters? i have a bad bad habit of writing long chapters which feels wrong on tumblr??? i can post a 15k word chapter on ao3 and not even blink, but if i start to get near 6k or 7k on tumblr i get antsy for some reason. it feels illegal. idk why. anyways, as always thanks for the love! i haven’t come up with a concrete posting schedule yet so as of now it’s gonna be every 5-7 days. roughly. also, side note, it’s my birthday and i think comments about my story is my fav kind of gift👀👀

Mando’a translations

Gar cuyir ner kar’ta. Ibac kelir draar am.

You are my heart. That will never change.

Buir, mar’eyir Ma!

Dad, find Ma!

Kai’tomyc: Hungry /// Ad’ika: Little one /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #grogu is adorable #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #Female reader #reader insert #greef karga #cara dune #slow burn #angst/comfort #fluff #domestic bliss

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hboww2rewatch · 2 months ago

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Please read the movie descriptions below

Saving Private Ryan (1998) - Following the Normandy Landings, a group of U.S. soldiers go behind enemy lines to retrieve a paratrooper whose brothers have been killed in action. Dir. by Steven Spielberg

A League of Their Own (1992) - American sports comedy drama film that tells a fictionalized account of the real-life All-American Girls Professional Baseball League (AAGPBL) during WWII. Dir. by Penny Marshall

Greyhound (2020) - The film is based on the 1955 novel The Good Shepherd, and follows a US Navy commander on his first assignment commanding a multi-national escort destroyer group of four, defending an Allied convoy from U-boats during the Battle of the Atlantic. Dir. by Aaron Schneider

Mudbound (2017) - The film depicts two World War II veterans – one white, one black – who return to rural Mississippi each to address racism and PTSD in his own way. Dir. by Dee Rees

Twelve O'Clock High (1949) - A tough-as-nails general (Gregory Peck as General Savage) takes over a B-17 bomber unit suffering from low morale and whips them into fighting shape. Based on a novel by the same name. Dir. by Henry King

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) - three United States servicemen re-adjusting to societal changes and civilian life after coming home from World War II. The three men come from different services with different ranks that do not correspond with their civilian social class backgrounds. It is one of the earliest films to address issues encountered by returning veterans in the post World War II era. Dir. by William Wyler

The Monuments Men (2014) - An unlikely World War II platoon is tasked to rescue art masterpieces from German thieves and return them to their owners. Based on the 2007 non-fiction book The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History. Dir. by George Clooney

Dunkirk (2017) - Allied soldiers from Belgium, the British Commonwealth and Empire, and France are surrounded by the German Army and evacuated from Dunkirk. It is shown from the perspectives of the land, sea, and air. Dir. by Christopher Nolan

Fury (2014) - A grizzled tank commander makes tough decisions as he and his crew fight their way across Germany in April, 1945. Dir. by David Ayer

Valkyrie (2008) - A dramatization of the July 20, 1944 assassination and political coup plot by desperate renegade German Army officers against Adolf Hitler during World War II. Dir. by Bryan Singer

#hboww2rewatch #hboww2rewatch poll

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 3 months ago

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Propaganda for Michel Ney:

This man. THIS MAN HAD SO MUCH CHARACTER. HE’S LITERALLY THE KIND OF MAN THAT INSPIRES GOOD FICTIONAL CHARACTERS NGL!! Since he’s up against a british person, here is a description of him by the Times of London:

“... his name rendered illustrious by 25 years of eminent services and brilliant exploits, was dear to the country, and even the enemies of France admired in him the character of the Great Captain. All allowed him to possess as much generosity of sentiment as bravery and skill at the head of armies. No trait of weakness, adulation or rapacity, had ever cast shade over his loyalty and military virtues. His sole defect seemed to be a certain vehemence of character and expression, which rendered him little suited to public affairs.”

And his death was so tragic. In Waterloo, he had made a fatal mistake with the cavalry, and he decides here that he will die. We don’t know exactly what happened here. Did he have so much PTSD from russia and years of war that he made such a stupid mistake (AA ALSO AFTER the disaster of russia campaign he isolated himself so much. Poor man🥺)? But one thing’s for sure, this man wasn’t a coward. The Bravest of the Brave was not a man who’d mess up in the war and just run away. On those grassy fields, Ney tried everything to get his men’s attention and when all hope seemed lost he shouted in the faces of the enemies “See how a marshal of France meets his death!” It seems in that moment his greatest want was to be killed by english bullets. But Victor Hugo recounts this and adds the ironic line of “Unhappy man, thou wert reserved for French bullets!”

…😭😭😭😭ISN’T THAT JUST…. SO POETIC AND TRAGIC?????

AND DON’T EVEN. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW HE DIED!!!!

This man sobs afterwords he gets tried for treason against france basically for siding with Napoleon. But with how unfairly they zero-in on ney’s wrong doings, this was a blood sacrifice. To help him, his lawyer reasoned that the place Ney was born from technically was no longer french, since it has been annexed by Prussia from the 1815 treaty of paris…

But this guy. OH nOnoNonononononoNO, this red-haired, lion-looking, emotional honor-filled patriot has the audacity to interrupt his defender and say loudly without the slightest doubt or hesitation "I am French and I will remain French!"

….

Come on. COME ON!!!! How stupid is he???!! How idiotic!! He just closed another door to survival because of what??

because of honor….. Wow, can you imagine that? He has given everything all his years of service, all his years of being a husband, a father, a son, all his years of rest and peace of mind to France. He has done so much, and even when…EVEN WHEN FRANCE SLAPS HIM ACROSS THE FACE AND SAYS “you traitor” He shouts back “I am French and I will remain French!” aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG….. what the hek…who is this man????

So he is executed as a traitor. There are different versions of his death but here are a few:

By Rochechouart:

“He [Ney], of course, refused to kneel down and be blind-folded; he merely asked the Commandant Saint-Bias to show him where he should stand. He stood facing the platoon, who held their guns ready to fire. Then, in an attitude I shall never forget, it was so noble, calm and dignified, without bravado, he took off his hat, and availing himself of the moment when the Adjutant stepped aside and gave the signal to fire, he said these words, which I distinctly heard: Frenchmen, I protest against my sentence; my honour..." As he said these words he placed his hand on his heart; the volley was fired, and he fell. A rolling of drums, and the shout of "Vive le Roi" from the surrounding troops closed the mournful ceremony.”

Such a death made a deep impression on me, and turning to Auguste de la Rochejaquelein, Colonel of the Grenadiers, who was beside me, and who, like me, deplored the death of the bravest of the brave, I said: ‘There, my dear friend, is a lesson how to die.’”

By M. Laisne:

“He [Ney] took some steps, removed his hat, and in a loud and clear voice: ‘I protest,’ he said ‘before heaven and mankind, that the judgment that condemns me is iniquitous; I appeal from it to Europe and to posterity’ …. Before these words there was presented to him a handkerchief to bandage his eyes. He answered with exaltation, ‘do you not know that a soldier does not fear death.’ He advanced again four paces, laying his hand on his heart and said to the soldiers: ‘Do your duty. It is there that you must hit, do not miss me.’ Instantly he fell dead.”

And finally a very close person to him, Ida Saint-Elme:

“Ney got out of the carriage. He was wearing civilian clothes: a long dark coat, a white necktie, black breeches and stockings, a tall beaver hat with curved brim. He uncovered. His slightly raised head showed that his face wore a tranquil expression. He looked first to the right and then to the left. He caught sight of me. Then, as though fearing to compromise his faithful friends by the least sign of recognition, he bent his brow downward a trifle.”

“He walked on with firm step. At that instant I discerned through the mist, in the centre of the square of troops, and standing out from the dark background of the wall, the firing squad. I tried to rush forward. Belloc pulled me back, and forced me into the cab.”

“Then I dropped weakly upon the seat. A few minutes elapsed, each a whole century long. Then I heard a sharp report. I went into a dead faint."

His death is so tragic and amazing. It really shows out his character and was the initial thing that got me interested in him as a person. Anyways, basically, this dude is such a tragic glory-lover but also very heroic and inspiring.

So therefore HE ISS SEXY GO VOTE FOR NEY!!!

#napoleonic sexyman tournament

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thelovetheystole · 2 months ago

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I've made a list of all the dark and depressing stories Emmerdale have done in recent times under the cut. Lots of trigger warnings for this one, beware.

So, in fairly recent times (from 2022 to now), we've had:

Nicola beaten by a gang of teenage girls / ptsd / afraid to leave her house

Marlon's stroke

Noah stalked Chloe / went to prison / swapped personality with Samson

Return of Dawn's evil ex Alex who pretty much threatened to traffic his own kids

Leyla addicted to cocaine / violent dealer put both Jacob and Suzy in hospital / Leyla overdose / rehab / divorce from Liam

Charity ectopic pregnancy

Sandra trying to fleece her own daughter and push her off the wagon

Faith dead

Harriet dead

Sam speared on farm equipment

Nate trampled by cows

Liv dead

Samson missing/ found half dead after the storm

Chas using her dead daughter to manipulate Aaron to leave the country after Liv's funeral to cover up her affair with Al

Kyle shot Al dead / Cain in prison

Paddy depressed / suicide attempt

Samson tried to have his own daughter taken away from Amelia and put into care and bullied/pushed his dad

Amelia stalked first online then in real life

Lloyd the stalker dead / Dan sent to prison

Cathy pmdd diagnosis

Lydia raped / Craig dead

Eric Parkinson's diagnosis

Caleb in a coma after Nicky pushed him off a cliff

Rishi dead / pushed down the stairs?

Chloe, Mack and Charity in a car accident

Mack kidnapped and beaten / lost Rueben / stabbed by Charity

Charity ptsd after killing Mack's kidnapper

Marshall's homophobic dad locking both him and Laurel up

Heath dead / Angelica custodial sentence

Naomi left and stole Vinny's money from selling the Mill

Ryan and Gail's secret son sick

Victor Anderson dead

Mary scammed / victim of revenge porn

Jacob almost died from allergic reaction

David disowned Jacob over Victoria and told him not to call him dad anymore, left the village

End of Nate and Tracy's marriage

Ruby made Caleb humiliate Tracy

Nicky and Suni attacked by homophobes

Aaron hated everyone / seduced Ethan only to humiliate him to get back at Charles

Vinny bullied and beaten by Aaron

Aaron and Cain trying to batter each other half to death with a spanner / Cain in serious condition

Cain compared Aaron to Gordon and wanted to drive him out of the village

Chas' breast cancer and double mastectomy

Aaron's faulty gene

The entire 'Little Ivy' story from stolen embryos to kidnapping to Gus in prison to marriage problems for Marlon and Rhona

Belle continously abused / same with Piper

Vinny beaten up by Tom

Evan's leukaemia

Nicky (and Ethan) in a car accident / coma

Ethan ran over / dead from unrelated brain bleed

Reveal of Ella as a 'child killer'

Samson stabbed

Matty set up by transphobe / in prison/ arranged his own beating

Laurel, did she have a heart attack?

Jai and Laurel nasty divorce

Samson sent to prison

Ella (and Dawn) in a car accident / pregnancy loss

Mackenzie head injury

And now something is seriously wrong with Moira and there is a big fire stunt coming with at least one death I'm sure, I'm also fairly certain they'll reveal John to have ptsd as well. Then it's time to grieve Zak...

Did I leave anything important out? I'm going to try and make a list for the lighter / more heartwarming stuff, but I think it will be much shorter...

#emmerdale #it's dark folks

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 year ago

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Clan of Three- Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Tragedy

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 6.7K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: fighting/violence, injuries, blood, massive angst, PTSD, some wholesome moments but still mainly sad

------

The Crest is relatively silent the coos coming from the child as it fiddles with the ball given by his adopted father. The said father steers the ship toward the planet Tython after their interaction with the jedi, Ahsoka.

“Grogu,” Din calls out and Grogu perks up looking at the Mandalorian with wide eyes which makes the man chuckle. Din holds out his hand looking at the child, “Give me the ball.” He says and Grogu shakes his tiny head pulling the item closer to his chest.

“Grogu, give me the ball. Come on.” Din sighs reaching over and pulling it out of Grogu’s grasp as he cries out before Din holds out the ball between his fingers, “Okay, here we go. You can have it, just like before. Grogu, come on. You can have it. Come on.”

The small child holds out his hand before the small ball shoots from his hand into the Grogu’s, “Dank farrik!” Grogu instantly recoils hearing the curse as Din does damage control, “Hey, no. I’m not mad at you. You did good. I just… When the nice lady said you had training, I just…” Din sighs looking over the child, “You’re very special, kid. You and the girl...”

Din looks over at the small child that coos at him, he was like a father to him same as the girl that was in the main hull relaxing. The fight between you two had left you both raw and vulnerable, but with your injury, everything just became too real. His hands and parts of the ship were stained with your blood though the evidence was gone, he seemed extra protective over you. Making sure you were feeling alright even if it was the small ailments, giving you and the child the larger rations, even when you slept he watched over you his hand resting on your wrist or your neck just to give him some sense of relief feeling your blood pumping under your skin. He thought he lost a part of himself that day. He didn’t have much, to begin with, his ship, his creed, but you and Grogu…you snuck your way in and he was hooked. Wrapped around your finger and he would tear apart the galaxy to keep the two of you safe with him. Neither of you brought up the fight pushing it aside for more pressing matters but you both could feel the regret that came from each side. Din never spoke up about Nevarro either, your memory completely fuzzy, he didn’t tell you of the fear in your eyes, your screams that filled the hull, how you cried out that your life was over, he didn’t tell you how you called him dad.

Buir…father…dad that’s what you called him. Maybe in your weakened state from the blood loss, your words weren’t what you meant. You probably saw your biological father in those moments and thought things were normal. Or did you see Cobb, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo the town you were raised in by the man? He was a father to you as well, teaching you to defend yourself, be smart, and use your head. The one who saw you grow from a child into this young teen before you were snatched away by the empire. But the same could be said about Din he had taught you the ways of the Mandalorian, his creed, the words spoken long ago on the desolate planet. You had grown strong in many ways with the guidance of many different people but he wouldn’t know who you truly called out to that day.

“We’re gonna find that place you two belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you,” Din says to the Grogu who babbles back as if he understands him. A beep from the console pulls Din away from the child seeing the ship entering the atmosphere for the planet, “This is Tython. That’s where we’re gonna try and find you guys a Jedi.” Din says to the child who looks seeing the planet growing closer as he begins his ascent. “But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand? Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?” Din says and Grogu makes a noise of disagreement, “I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do. You understand, right?”

Flying over the large plains towards the mountaintops he sees the pillars of stones surrounding one larger one in the center, “Looks like that’s the magic rock I’m supposed to take you to down there. Sorry, buddy. I can’t land on the top. Too small. We’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

Landing the ship in a clearing at the bottom of the mountain Din grabs Grogu before climbing down the ladder to the main hull. Looking into the hull he spotted you sitting in front of your cot your face buried into one of the books. The cover is an old leather bound together by some material. It looked like it was falling apart but the way you handled it was as if it was the most precious item you’d ever encountered.

“Kid,” Din’s voice pulls you from your reading and you look up seeing him and Grogu waiting at the ramp door, “You ready?” You nod standing putting the text in your bag slinging it over your shoulder, your blaster and vibro-knife were already holstered on you and you finish up by attaching your saber to your belt.

Exiting the ship the breeze blows through your hair and you take in a breath of the fresh air, “Let’s go kid,” Din says before passing the kid off to you. You rub his ears small giggles coming from the child and quickly Din scoops you up into his arms as his jetpack takes the three of you to the skies. Grogu whoops in excitement the wind blowing in his face as he looks around at the ground far below you.

A rocky dome lies in the center of several stone pillars that circle it. You guys hit the ground being put down as you hold the child looking around at what is meant to be the seeing stone, “Well, I guess this is it. Does this look Jedi to you?” Din says as you spin around looking at slanted rocks pointed upwards towards where this rock rest in the center. Placing the child down as it looks around in wonder as you draw closer to the rock. Your fingers brush the inscription that seems to circle around the seeing stone.

The writing in a language you have never seen before, “Looks like it, these inscriptions I don’t know what language this could even be.” You say looking up at Din as he scoops up Grogu before placing him on top of the stone,

“I guess you sit right here. Okay. Here we go.” He says before glancing at you, “I guess you both take turns...This is the seeing stone, are you seeing anything?” The child coos looking at a butterfly that flaps by trying to reach out to it, “Or are they supposed to see you? Maybe there’s some kind of control or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” You call out as Din circles the rock trying to find some switch for this jedi relic, “Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told me all I had to do was get you here and you’d do the rest.”

The sound of something entering the atmosphere and you move towards the edge of the mountain top seeing a starship circling around them before heading towards the nearby clearing where the Crest was, “Din…” You call out and you see he’s right beside you seeing the same thing.

“Time’s up, kid. We gotta get out of here,” Din says as you both turn to grab Grogu when a force field surrounds the small child, his eyes are closed in concentration the inscriptions glowing a bright blue, “We don’t have time for this. We got to get…” Din moves forward trying to grab him but a force pushes back on him and he steps back, “Hey! Snap out of it, kid! We got to get out of here!” Din calls out and you move forward feeling the immense sensation of the force running through you as your hands press against the barrier feeling a bit of it give as you try reaching forward before you are pushed back as well.

“I’ll see if I can buy you some time,” Din says unholstering his blaster before looking at you, “Watch after him.” He says and you go to speak but he’s already moving down the mountain and you peer down trying to see who had arrived. Turning back to the seeing stone the energy barrier around Grogu as you step forward again.

“Come on kid…we really need to get going. Grogu come on wake up!” You call out but he seems to be ignoring you and you put your hands against the barrier pushing forward and trying to reach out to him. A ringing fills your ears as part of your hand breaks through the barrier as the noise grows louder.

“You can’t run from destiny. Din Djarin…his creed…Mandalore will fall because of you,” Moff Gideon’s voice rings in your head as flashes of Nevarro burning and the planet you’ve never seen is bombed from the sky screams filling the air.

“Tatooine may be where you were born but your blood, that is not. Features old but familiar…qualities of those from Mandalore.” A cave of water surrounds you from a planet of glass as the cool water drenches your clothes.

“Te oya'la pirun” Ripped from the cave hands grasping at your arms and legs dragging you further out, guiding you forward. Whisper of words called out as armor is forced onto you weighing you down.

“You have a much more important role in this than you think you do…That can alter your dear Mandalorian’s Creed.” The metal cools your skin as it stares back at you, lines of them standing tall looking forward at you almost waiting for your command. You keep pushing forward your second hand breaking through the barrier.

“Ibic cuyir te ara.” A cry rips through the air, a man holding a woman as sobs pour from him as the life fades from her. You can feel the energy of the weapon that caused the damage it seemed to suck the life out of the room. It’s a dead weight on your belt as you continue moving forward, your vision catches a reflection and you hesitate beskar dons your body it glistens in the sun crafted and molded for your body. The shouts of victory but the screams of innocents as you are brought towards a crowd in a large hall in a once great city. It seems to stretch with each step as the Mandalorians fill the hall quickly part for you.

As you go to move you look around in confusion before a hand pushes you forward as they turn to your attention and you recoil seeing their appearance. Mandalorians drenched in blood standing over bodies of people of different planets. Men, women, and children of all ages lie on the ground. You see Cara, Greef, and Cobb amongst the crowd their bodies mutilated with their eyes lifeless watching you. The few friends you made on Sorgan…Omera and her daughter Winta lie in a bloody pile the mother clutching her daughter in their final moments. Your parents lay dead in front of the Armorer and Bo-Katan as they watch you their armor too covered in blood and the battle. Your stomach grows weak spotting the pram of the child it lies on the ground speckles of blood decorate it as it lies empty. Your steps grow weaker as you make your way through the bloodbath. Large windows surround the hall and the sounds of explosions as fire lights up the night sky the glass shattered as screams and gunfire fills your ears. A throne stands before you and you spot a man kneeling before it as the person behind you makes you walk past him before turning to face them.

Looking down at the man you freeze. You see Din but it wasn’t him, you recognize his armor but he lacked his helmet his features unrecognizable. Blurring and changing the man if he was human or not. His hair changes all shades and textures, and his skin merges from different hues. But what confused you was the blood that covered his armor, the shiny beskar caked in blood and grime as he stares up at you. You’re pushed forward as he bows down offering his neck and you try to move away but a hand rest on your shoulders as a weapon is placed in your hands. The hands guide yours to raise it up as you fight against it but can’t break free from it. You hear the sound of the blade activating the dread causing a weight that almost makes you fall. You try pulling away from this from hurting Din….from hurting anyone. You didn’t want anyone hurt…they should be alive, not dead.

You feel the breath against your ear as the weight of death adds to the beskar that once felt light now crushes your chest as you run out of air. The weapon is raised high as you look down at Din unable to stop. Moff Gideon’s voice whispers as you bring down the blade.

“It ends here Mand’alor.”

Your body hits the ground as you gasp for air feeling hands grab your shoulders you instantly try fighting off them but they grab your wrist holding them away from your body, “Kid it’s me..stop it!” Din’s voice clears away all fears as he kneels in front of you and looks at your frightened expression.

“Everyone was…there was so much blood…and you…the Mandalroians…Gideon.” Your words were a jumble as you try explaining what you saw. Din’s hands grab your face, “Hey calm down just breathe...I’m fine everyone’s fine.” He says his modulated voice calming as he makes you look at him. You slowly nod before the sound of blaster fire makes you jump, “Come on we have to go now,” Din stands pulling you to your feet as he looks at Grogu who is still surrounded by the force field.

“Time to go, kid!” Din says moving forward but his steps are pushed back by the force as he puts his hands up against the barrier, “That’s it, kid. We got to get out of here!” He grunts his voice straining as he pushes forward before he’s thrown back hitting the ground with a loud crash. You quickly run over to him helping him up as he groans in pain, “What are we gonna do?!” You ask from your view you could see the transport that was expelling troopers and they seem to be fighting someone down there. Had Din found an ally? Helping him to his feet you both look over the ridge down to the battle, “You stay here I’m going to protect you too,”

“But I can help!” You start but he shakes his head grabbing your shoulders, “No! You stay here and watch after the child, you only fight if any get past me.” He says but you’re eyes are still glued to troopers making their way up the mountain,

“Y/n!” Hearing your name snaps you back to face him, it was a splash of cold water hearing your name come from his mouth, you were so used to kid or the very brief time he called you cyar’ika you think that’s how you say it. You never learned what it meant but he started to address you as that too. But you’re name wasn’t something you haven’t heard in a while. “I need you to focus…you don’t let anyone get to you or the child,” Din says and you nod and he pulls your blaster from your waist forcing it into your hands. His hand moves to cup your face looking deep into your eyes so that you could almost see them through the visor of his beskar helmet.

He pulls away before pulling out his own weapon, “Just stay there. I’ll be back soon.” You watch Din leave heading down the mountain as he quickly engages with stormtroopers. Turning back you see the forcefield down and the child asleep on the rock probably knocked out for using such a large amount of force. You quickly scoop up the child fixing the strap of your satchel as it almost slips down while holding your blaster in your free hand. You should contact Din telling him you have the child you holster your blaster and grab your comm, “Din I have the child should I head to the Crest?” You ask when a large explosion shakes the ground. You run toward the edge of the ridge looking down and seeing the large plume of smoke that fills the air right where the Crest was at. A wave of sadness fills you seeing the one other thing you could call home be blown to smithereens. All those memories in that ship were gone in just a moment.

“Ki-..Kid! get th-..ell…there now!” Din’s voice crackles through the comms before cutting off and you step away from the ridge getting closer to the seeing stone when four large thuds and you stare at four armored troopers, their black armor frighten as you spin around as they stare at you but they didn’t seem human at all too tall…they were droids. You clutch the child closer to you as he whimpers, you whip out your blaster firing at one of them but the bullet bounces off its armor the same as if it was beskar. You fire again before side-stepping trying to book it between the two of them. An armored hand grabs the back of your collar and you’re thrown to the ground. Your head smacks against the seeing stone and you crumble to the ground your vision goes black as Grogu cries out hitting the ground though his landing is softened by your body.

Din sprints up the hill the blood pumping through his veins, why didn’t he grab his jetpack he would have been there by now?! It’s too late to turn back. Get to them both…save the child and the girl. Fennec follows close behind as they reach the top just to see four of the troopers, one of them scoops up the crying Grogu while another grabs you as you lay unconscious in its arms blood paints the side of your face. They shoot up into the air as Din watches in horror as you both disappear from him.

“They’ve got the kids. Don’t let them get away!” Fennec calls out into her comm as Boba Fett follows after the troopers in his starship, “Affirmative.” His screens beep as he gains a lock to attack, “I have a lock.”

“Stop him. I don’t want them hurt.” Din says and Fennec quickly speaks into the comm, “Abort pursuit. Disengage. Do not harm the kids.”

“Copy. I’ll do a loose follow, see where they’re headed.” Fett says Slave I following the troopers into the upper atmosphere flying through the clouds his eyes widen spotting the large cruiser, “They’re back.” He whispers,

“Who?” Fennec asks as Fett watches the imperial ship, “The Empire. They’re back.”

“That can’t be.” Fennec shakes her head…there’s no way in the galaxy the empire would be in New Republic territory, “The Outer Rim is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic.”

“This isn’t a spice dream.” Fett responds watching the ship with his own eyes, “I can see the Imperial cruiser with my own eyes. Heading down.” He says as he has no choice but to return as the Imperial cruiser jumps into hyperspace.

Din wasn’t able to describe the guilt that ran through him as he sifts through the pit of ashes that is the wreckage of his ship. Your satchel with your books and blaster rests on him as he kneels down into the charred soil pulling out the joystick ball that the child once played with before placing it in his pocket. His hand also pulls out the beskar spear that was not damaged by the large blaster fire. Returning to Fennec and Fett holding the spear, “This is all that survived.”

“Beskar.” Fett comments before holding out his wrist and a hologram of his chain code appears, “I want you to take a look at something. My chain code has been encoded in this armor for 25 years. You see, this is me. Boba Fett. This is my father, Jango Fett.” Din reads the Mando’a script containing his family lineage, ‘foundling’, ‘mentor Jaste’, ‘father Fett’, ‘Boba Fett’, and ‘Concord Dawn’.

“Your father was a foundling.” Din says and Fett nods, “Yes. He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars.”

“Then that armor belongs to you.” Din says recognizing Fett and his father as Mandalorians, Fett is pleased with the return, “I appreciate its return.”

Din looks over at the Mandalorian and the assassin, “Then our deal is complete.” “Not quite.” Fett comments and Din gives him a confused look, “How so?”

“We agreed in exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the children,” Fett says bringing up the promise he and Fennec had given, “The kids are gone,” Din says sadness lacing his voice.

“Until they are returned to you safely, we are in your debt,” Fett explains with the recent kidnapping the two were in debt to the other Mandalorian. Din was thankful for their help but they would need more to get the two of you home safe and their first destination already in mind.

“Cara Dune, Marshal of the New Republic.” Din’s voice rings out in the office. The newly placed Marshal of Nevarro City getting upgraded for the New Republic, “I heard rumors you might have gone legit.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Cara says bringing her feet off her desk the metal badge given by the New Republic shines in the sunlight, “I need your help.” Din gets straight to the point as she looks past him to the other man in the Mandalorian armor and the helmeted assassin.

“Name it.” “I need you to locate someone in the prison registry.” Din says and Cara nods moving to the computer, “Let’s see what I can do.”

“Ex-Imperial sharpshooter, last name Mayfeld. Apprehended near the Dilestri system on a derelict prison ship.” Din gives details of the short-lasting partner who betrayed him.

“Migs Mayfeld,” Cara says reading off his file, “Serving 50 years in the Karthon Chop Fields for springing a prisoner himself. Accessory to the death of a New Republic officer. Huh. Sounds like a real piece of work.” She says and Din nods, “What do you want with him?”

“I need to spring him to help me locate Moff Gideon’s light cruiser.” Din says and Cara sighs her hands tied, “You know how I feel about the Empire. But these stripes… mean there are rules I need to follow.” She says.

“They have the kids,” Din says and the ex-shock trooper is already on board with this information.

Footsteps echo through the halls as the man grows closer to the brig being flanked by two stormtroopers, entering the cell he spots the small child holding his fist up in the air as the two stormtroopers that were meant to escort him were being thrown across the room hitting one another. “Set to stun.” The escort stormtrooper beside the man order but he holds a hand up, “Wait.” The man watches with interest as the child hurls the two troopers against the wall before collapsing in exhaustion. The two troopers hit the ground groaning in pain as they push themselves up and take their wounded selves out of the room leaving just the man and his escort.

“You’ve gotten very good with that. But it makes you oh-so sleepy.” He says before pulling something from his belt and igniting it as the light seems to drain from the room, “Have you ever seen one of these? From years past?” He waves it near the child as it tries reaching out with the force but is too weak to move the weapon though it does shake slightly, “Oh, uh-uh-uh,” He chuckles deactivating the weapon, “You’re not ready to play with such things. Liable to put an eye out with one of these. Looks like you could use a nice, long sleep.” With a nod, the trooper next to him fires a stunning round on the child as it falls back down. “Put it in shackles.” He orders before turning to leave the comms officer, “When we come out of hyperspace, send an encrypted message to Dr. Pershing. Let him know we have got our donors.”

“Yes, sir.” She nods letting him pass by as he heads off to another part of the brig as the sounds of fighting and yelling fill the hall. The door to the room was guarded by four troopers unlike the child’s which was just a pair. Entered the room which was more of an interrogation room as the girl was strapped to the interrogation chair, cuffs already restraining her abilities but it seemed like it wasn’t early enough. A trooper is pressed against the wall clutching his arm as he screams in pain while another lies dead on the ground, his armor crushed around his body his limbs snapped in a horrid way. Your body shakes on the tilted chair as you snarl seeing Moff Gideon enter the room.

“I swear I’ll rip you apart and have your guts paint the kriffing wall!” You hiss spitting at him and he watches the rage in your eyes the blood on the side of your head getting in your eye. Your eyes widen instantly and you lean as far back as you can as the weapon is activated and pointed right at your throat. The black blade hums in the air as the light around it seems to drain. He seems to notice the look of fear in your eyes but the recognition there as well.

“Looks familiar, doesn’t it? Family relics though what would you know about your family.” He says as he waves the weapon around in front of you, and one of the troopers comes by him producing your own saber. “It’s interesting you had this completely unaware of who you really were…it’s quite hilarious your situation. Being a Jedi…meeting the Mandalorian..it’s just all…pieces of the unfinished puzzle.” He says his words cryptically as the blade retracts back in and he steps forward watching you with a close eye.

“What do you dream of Y/n L/n…a normal life back on Tatooine with your parents? Or is it during in Mos Pelgo with your unofficial father Cobb Vanth…or is it your time with the Mandalorian? Din Djarin…is it of the planets you explore…do you join his creed,” He says and you glare back at him but can’t ignore the lingering fear that brews in your stomach. He steps back shaking his head, “No that’s not it…it’s this you dream of,” He holds up the weapon and you shiver at the action, “You fear it but…you crave it. You don’t know why but you can feel it. Can you sense its strength…the power it holds.” He says and he knows he hits the nail on the head.

“What do you want from me…more blood? To be your damn donor.” You spat and he grins shaking his head, “No…I’m after that with that green little creature. I only needed your blood to be certain I was right though we did try,” Gideon says, “I want what you can offer, what your bloodline can offer that I can’t get. You have something many wish they have but can never obtain.”

“And what is that.” You glare and he steps forward staring deeply that you feel sick.

“Power. The power to lead and they would follow blindly…and you don’t even know it.” He says as a sadistic and power-hungry grin spreads across his face before he steps back.

“You’ll learn soon enough what you mean to me.” He says as he leaves you, your threats to tear him and anyone else apart fills the room but quickly muffles as the door closes.

Gideon stands on the bridge watching the stars fly past them as they travel through hyperspace. They had gained both assets his plan worked in his favor. The sound of footsteps draws close to him, “Sir… You should see this.” The comms officers inform him and he turns from the large open windows to the bridge’s large table as a transmission comes in revealing the Mandalorian, Din Djarin.

“Moff Gideon. You have something I want,” He speaks the words a direct copy of the words he said to the bounty hunter on Nevarro about the two in his possession, “You may think you have some idea what you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, they will be back with me. They mean more to me than you will ever know.” The transmission ends as Gideon stares straight ahead a grim expression on his face. The others in the room could sense the anger coming off him and even they were worried. What lengths would this Mandalorian go to for a child and a girl? Gideon grasp the weapon on his belt in anger not even turning to the comms officer that was still beside him,

“Fetch the girl.”

You weren’t sure what day it was anymore. Your body is weak from the lack of food and water that hasn’t been given. You cough at the dryness in your throat from screaming in the empty room…well not empty the dead trooper was still in the room but otherwise empty. Your wrists were probably bruised and raw with how much pulling you’ve done but it was the only thing you could think to do to try and break free. You had absolutely nothing, your knife and saber taken leaving you to just your wits. The sound of footsteps draws closer as you steel your face as they stop in front of the door and it opens revealing a pair of troopers who enter.

“Try anything and you’ll end up like your friend.” You spit though your threat is empty as they draw closer and you see one of them holding a small case and producing a needle making you thrash in the chair, “Touch me and I swear to the Maker I will kill you!” You shout as they draw close to you and you slam your head forward into one of them making them groan in pain. Your vision rings and a hand slams your head back onto the metal rest as the needle digs into your neck and you feel the burn of the liquid. The cuffs release around you as you hit the ground unable to catch yourself. Your vision blurs before going dark the last thing you feel is hands looping around your arms.

You groan in pain feeling your body be dragged as you slowly blink your eyes open right as you’re thrown to your knees. The multiple officers are on the bridge working away as the two troopers stand guard and you hear footsteps your vision is blurry but slowly clearing up as they stop in front of you. A cold hand grabs your chin pulling your head up and you stare right back at Moff Gideon, “There...the dear princess is awake..” He says and you spit right in his face and a frown covers his face as he pulls back producing a cloth to wipe the spit off. A harsh kick to your side makes you gasp for air as you fall to your side but are quickly brought back to your knees.

“I see your anger comes from your beloved Mandalorian,” Gideon says looking down as you glare back at him, “Or is it from Bo-Katan the ruthless savage she is…you hold no decorum from the late Duchess Satine.” He says the last name is one you’re unfamiliar with. “How would they think seeing their own with this behavior.”

“What are you talking about.” You spit glaring up at him and you see the grin forming on his face, “It is an unbecoming attitude for an heir to the Mandalorian throne.” He says and the room grows cold as you stare up at him. No, that wasn’t…it couldn’t be. He could see the confusion and almost shock on your face.

“Shock I see? Maybe your father would still be alive if he reveal his ancestors to you. You both might be in a better situation,” Gideon says, and hearing your father you lunge forward but are slammed to the ground.

“Speak of my father I will rip you limb from limb Gideon!” You hiss the knee digging into your back as your hands remained shackled behind you. The metal grating presses deep into your cheek as you threaten the man.

“It is only the truth, my dear,” He chuckles, “Let me simplify things for you. Your father was a Mandalorian born and raised on the planet Mandalore, and your grandparents were quite respectable people of the time…Duchess Satine Kryze and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Your father escapes the purge following his mother’s death before finding himself in Tatooine…he finds your mother and then you appear. But you were no ordinary child how could you not with a Jedi Master as your grandfather? Then little you watch your parents die to travel to Mos Pelgo meeting Marshal Cobb Vanth only to be kidnapped for a bounty that I sent. Lucky for you that you weren’t killed but met the Mandalorian Din Djarin and I’m sure you know the rest.” Gideon says as he moves forward and you pulled back onto your knees.

“You’re lying.” You say shaking your head…you couldn’t be..but it all made sense. What’s been told…what you’ve dreamed of. You always believed were from Tatooine but you were wrong. Everything you knew your life…you were Mandalorian.

“I’m not. So you understand why I need you…the empire wants Mandalore and having a Mandalorian who is also a Jedi? Why you’re just recreating history!” He laughs before pulling the saber from his belt and igniting it in front of you and you flinch back.

“Oh no reason to be afraid, the Darksaber is a powerful weapon in the right hands just like your own saber. When won in ritual combat whoever wields this blade has the rightful claim to the Mandalorian throne. Did you know the creator of this was a Jedi and a Mandalorian now it seems like you fit the bill don’t you think.” He says as you look at the sword before him.

“So what? You want me to have this stupid sword and what rule Mandalore?” You spat and he shakes his head and laughs. “Oh no, you’ll just rebel against the empire and the Mandalorians will gladly fight alongside you. No, what I need you to do is just say yes.”

“Say yes to what?” You say looking up at Gideon “Think of it as a proposal of sorts,” He says and you feel nauseous your stomach dropping, “You lay claim to the Mandalorian throne by blood right but I will rule, they wouldn’t fight its Mand’alor if they are producing Mandalorian children.” You were truly nauseous you weren’t sure how bile hasn’t left your mouth. He was sick…you were a child and he wanted you to..oh maker you were going to be sick.

“You’re sick.” You gag looking away from him. If you look you would surely lose your hold on your stomach. “I swear to you I would rather die than agree to anything you say.” You spat and he frowns and he motions for the troopers. Hands pull you up to your feet as you look up at him a look of murderous rage in your eyes.

“That was the diplomatic option Y/n…makes it easier for everyone,” Gideon says a disapproving look on his face he surges forward as the blade drives straight into your body. You jerk as his free arm holds your shoulder as you stare at him with wide eyes still not registering the action. He pulls back and that’s when you feel the saber leave your body as you fall back hitting the floor. “This is the non-diplomatic option,” Gideon says but your ears are ringing as you feel the immense burning happening as your body is sent immediately into shock.

“Put her in the brig and let her die a jedi,” Gideon says as hands grab under your armpits and drag you out of the bridge the last thing you see before your vision goes dark is Gideon with the Darksaber watching you the aura coming off of it is like waves crashing down on you. You felt something at that moment when you came in contact with it. Your vision goes black your last thoughts of the child and the Mandalorian you’ve grown to love.

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