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v1smokewife · 10 months ago

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ghost of you - chapter one

Sanji didn't believe in ghosts. Not even after the passing of his mentor. He didn't know how to grieve. Memories of his former family flooded back to him like an unwanted parasite, nestling into the brain and eating all of his happiness. It strains his once happy relationship with his former rival (but still bickering like an old couple). Zoro decides what they both need is a vacation to a secluded location. Once there, the mysteries of the house and the unresolved trauma begins to knaw at Sanji.

authors note: So this is very different what i normally write. I have mentioned in previous stories that last year was a bit of a dud year in that so many loved ones passed away. I wanted to channel that grieving into something that I could express myself with and this was what came out. I've always wanted to write a ghost story as I love films like Crimson Peak and the Woman in Black. So, this is the result of that. I've written like...half of it and will be continuing to write the rest but since Who Is This Person is finished, I figured I'd put this out.

The road that was leading to the holiday home was shrouded in thick trees. As they said goodbye to the city lights, they said hello to the road ahead. It seemed like a completely different world from the civilisation they were just leaving. Like another different world entirely. As his partner, Zoro sat in the driver's seat and focused on the road, trying his best to stick to the directions that were given to him by the SAT NAV. Letting Zoro drive was a gamble because he could be directionally challenged, but Sanji couldn’t drive yet so it had to be Zoro.

As Sanji stared out of the window, there was unspoken words between the two men that seemed to speak loud enough. If it wasn’t for the dulled music coming from the radio, it would have spoken even louder but right now, they were unmistakably there.

This holiday…it was necessary for their relationship. If they are to hold onto their relationship, then this holiday would have to go to plan.

Sanji wasn’t entirely sure how Zoro had secured this holiday. He had never heard of his house. He had never even heard of it before. Zoro had arranged the whole thing as a sort of surprise. He didn’t need to say it. Zoro was trying to make this world.

They needed to take a break. After everything…it was for their relationship. Or else.

Sanji’s hand hung outside the window as he dropped his cigarette outside of the window. His gaze began to linger towards the dense canopy of trees. Branches jolting out like distorted broken arms sitting in unnatural angles. Zoro’s demeanour was not his natural kind. In fact, Sanji couldn’t really remember the last time his demeanour had been normal. As he focused on the winding roads, there was something in his eyes that Sanji could not quite place, nor did he understand.

As they got further and further away from civilisation, Sanji felt disconnected from his old life. He wasn’t sure if it was the trees, or it was the lack of sunlight, but the place just felt cold and dark. Goosebumps formed as his eyes gazed into the woods. The trees were so many that he couldn’t make out what was actually in the forest other than trees. It was a stark contrast to the life they were living behind.

The silence had become rather jarring but something that Sanji was now used to it seemed.

The car navigated a sharp bend as the SAT NAV broke the silence wit it’s unnaturally and unreliable happiness. Sanji’s eyes, for the first time, were not looking at window and were now watching Zoro instead. He studied his face. It wasn’t looking at him. That was the face of the man he loved. He was sitting in the car right next to him and yet Sanji felt like Zoro was a million miles away from him right now. It felt like if Sanji tried to reach out and grab him, Zoro be more than arm's length away.

He was as far away as home was right now.

As the car navigated a particularly sharp bend, the first glimpse of their home away from home for the next two weeks came into view. The holiday home was a very uncanny looking silhouette in the middle of a clearing. An imposing feature that seemed to be out of place, out of time and yet it was perfectly at home in the wild landscape. It was an old Victorian house. With turrets and large windows that stood out even from far away.

Zoro pulled the car into the driveway as the crunch of stones indicated their presence, breaking the silence. As they sat in the car, once Zoro had stopped, Sanji and Zoro sat together for a second. He didn’t really know what to say as they sat there together taken in the feeling of the house.

“Well, here we are…”

Zoro’s voice broke up the silence. Sanji’s throat felt dry as he looked in wonder at the house. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that crawled up his spin at the thought of the house. His heart was beating harder than normal, but he wasn’t sure if it was just the house. He worried that there were other things causing this.

He had barely noticed that Zoro had gotten out of the car. It was almost as if he was stuck to the car seat looking at the house that loomed over them both. The house watching. Judging them. The house now holding the key to their relationship keeping together. The key to their survival as a couple.

Zoro’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Hey…Are you coming?”

Sanji tore his gaze away from the house. He looked at the door and then back to the house. With what felt like heavy footsteps, Sanji opened the door only to step out. His feet making a crunching against the ground that sounded harsh to his ears. A reminder that they were intruders in this place. Intruders to a house that was out of time…out of place.

They gathered their bags. Sanji’s bag felt weighted, weighted with his things and the emotional burden that he thought he left at their home. It was impossible not to feel dwarfed by the structure before home. The house, peering over them, with peeling paint and ivy walls.

In Sanji’s eyes, he felt mesmerised. He could tell that the house was at one point well-loved and well cared for. A haunting yet beautiful melody. He had been too wrapped up in it when he watched Zoro began to fumble with the keys. Once the door creeped open, the smell of memories from a long time ago hit Sanji like a brick being thrown at him.

As they stepped into the grand foyer, the air inside the house felt like a tangible presence. You could just taste the history and echoes of voices from time gone by. The light from the window distorting against the walls and furniture in a beautiful slender. These walls…these walls held stories.

Sanji let Zoro walk in first and he then followed. As they walked in, each step taking them deeper into the house. They hadn’t said as much as a word since they went in. The house, as much as it was repurposed to be a holiday home, it still held the appearance and aesthetic of a Victorian home. Not matter how much it had been done up to look beautiful, it still looked haunting. It was haunting.

“I think our bedroom is upstairs.”

Sanji could only follow as they made their way up the stairs. He couldn’t help but feel there was an overwhelming sense of intrusion. Like they had broken into a home that didn’t belong to them. It wasn’t long before they found their bedroom. A large four-poster bed and heavy drapes. It felt like a forgotten bedroom from a time long ago.

Sanji was drawn to the window. Zoro began to unpack their things, but Sanji was drawn to the window. There was nothing out at the front. There were the trees. Fields and fields of trees. The forest surrounding the house like an entity in the darkness. Waiting for its moment.

It was then that Sanji felt arms around him. They wrapped around his waist. Although things had become strained between them, he couldn’t deny the beating in his heart at Zoro’s arms.

He felt the warmth of Zoro’s chest against his back and for once, Sanji felt like he was at home. For a week, things had not been like this but for once, he could enjoy the feeling of those big strong arms. This connection…this moment between them right now felt like a lifeline.

“It’s…a nice house,” Zoro said in the silence between them. Sanji nodded, looking at the forests that surround the garden.

“Beautiful…but haunting…” He didn’t know if that was a good thing, but Sanji spoke quietly as if to try and not disturb the silence in the house, “The…forest feels like it’s part of the house…or perhaps it’s the other way around,”

They stood there. Almost lost in the beauty of the house. Sanji didn’t know but this moment of closeness was needed. He had felt as if they had almost forgotten what this felt like. This moment right here was a brief respite from the unspoken tension that had developed over the past couple of weeks.

Eventually, Zoro sighed and moved away. He continued to unpack. Sanji turned to watch him for a second. He opened his mouth as if she wanted to say something. However, no words came out and he just returned to looking out the window. There were words he wanted to say. Things that Sanji wanted to tell Zoro. He wished he knew what he could say to save things, but he couldn’t. He just didn’t know the words.

It wasn’t always like this.

It was funny how more than a week ago, they were doing a lot better than this. It was incredible how one phone call can just…change things. Sanji hadn’t been expecting it. The memories play over like an unwelcome ghost.

His adoptive father had been unwell. However, neither of them had been expecting it to develop quite like this.

Sanji had become quite accustomed to sound of the hospital and there was nothing he liked at all about his visits. He couldn't smoke outside; since it was supposed to be fresh air outside of the hospital. The irony regarding the stress and anxiety that often happened inside. He was often bombarded by an array of sounds. Doctors' pagers going off, the constant chatter from worried families and orderlies grabbing their lunch at the various stores. Hospitals were often like mazes. It wasn't for Sanji anymore. He knew exactly where he was going. The general medical ward. This had been where his adoptive father had been for the longest of times.

On the way there, Sanji could only reflect on his relationship with Zeff. There was no biological relation between them, but Sanji was his only visitor. Sanji didn't mind. He never grudged this. Going to the hospital every day was often like a habit. He would go in the afternoon, stay for a few hours then go home and make him and Zoro dinner.

He didn't think Zeff was that sick. Dying would never have been on Sanji's mind. It never was.

The elevator pinged and like clockwork, Sanji made his way to Ward 15 and then room 16. Sanji had become quite accustomed to all the faces. The doctors, the nurses (especially the female ones) and even the regular patients but he knew exactly where he was going.

"What time do you call this?"

Zeff was sitting in his bed. He was reading the paper as normal. He often complained about feeling bored rereading the paper repeatedly. His room had become like his home. He had been there so often. There were always things in the way. More blood tests, urine samples or things that stopped Zeff from going home.

Maybe it is just having no clue whatsoever. Sanji just didn't really think things were that bad. Zeff was always being an asshole to him. Nothing seemed to change.

"I have a life outside of this shitty place," Sanji said, stepping in the room, "I can't even smoke here. I think I'd rather be elsewhere,"

Zeff chucked. His voice was raspy as a sign of weariness. A sign that Sanji didn't acknowledge but instead, took a seat next to the bed. Zeff looked tired. He had always been such a force; Sanji remembers with laughter Zeff yelling at him in the kitchen when Zeff was head chef at his own restaurant. Sanji was acting head chef. It had been a role Sanji had always wanted...but now Sanji didn't feel as if he wanted it anymore.

He looked at Zeff as he pulled his chair closer, “How are things?"

"Ah. You know...the usual," Zeff said, "They keep poking me. I keep telling them, I'm not a pin cushion but they don't listen to me," That would have been his attempt at humour, but it was cut off short with a cough and an ugly one at that.

Sanji wanted to reach out and give him a pat but choose not to.

"I bet you hate the food. You've always been hard on me...I can imagine you're no different here,"

Zeff chuckled again, "I keep writing on the menus to make it good but they never do. You should see the stuff that they serve here, eggplant. I'm beginning to wonder that they are trying to kill me off sooner."

Sanji wants to mention that he was head chef now, but he chose not to. If Zeff was still able, he never would have allowed it. He had always wanted Sanji to go other places and not be tied down to the restaurant but like a child looking up to his father, Sanji had only ever wanted that.

Now that he is that he doesn't want it. It doesn't feel deserved, hence why he doesn't say it.

"How's the restaurant?" The Baratie had been under Sanji's control, and it had been...stressful. It was now basically his restaurant. It wasn't too bad. Sanji had already had a lot of the knowledge of running things due to his closeness to Zeff. it hadn't been all that hard but keeping up with visiting and his relationship had caused a lot of stress.

"Not the same without you yelling in my ear,"

There was a tightness in Sanji's throat. He didn't know why but he felt particularly emotional thinking about it. It had been different.

The hospital walls always seemed to be closing in. They felt like they were filled with memories and regrets. Sanji wanted to say so much but he couldn't. There was so much he wanted to say but he just couldn't. He didn't have the words.

Zeff had changed his life, and he just couldn't tell him that.

Their conversations tended to shift to lighter topics. Memories of the restaurant and back to the days where Zeff wasn't as ill. Sanji's laugh felt hollow to his own ears. Just a reminder of the emotions he was trying to hide. Just a reminder of the lack of acknowledgement of how bad things were going to be.

His visit always seemed to whiz by. It was like he never had enough time to visit. A dance of avoidance of Zeff's condition and a deep-rooted fear in Sanji that this would be their last conversation. When it did, Sanji stood up, "I'll see you tomorrow, old man,"

Zeff's eyes watched Sanji put the seat back to the side of the room. He coughed, heavily before waving Sanji away. It looked as if he wanted to say something but what came out was completely different, "Take care of yourself, kid. And that boyfriend of yours,"

Sanji paused at the door. He couldn't look back inside. Not at once anyway. He turned to look at Zeff before nodding, "You too,"

He stepped out into the corridor. The busyness of the hospital more jarring, as if he had just stepped into another world. He felt disconnected from it all as he walked further and further away from Zeff's room.

Outside, the cool air was a shock to his system. Once outside the hospital grounds, Sanji took out a cigarette from his case and lit it up, smoke curling into the air. His thoughts were a mixture of emotions. He looked up at the sky for the moment, wondering what would happen from here.

"I'm home!"

Sanji and Zoro had been living together for a year, but all together had been dating for two and a half years. They were a bit of a surprise to most people. When they met, they used to fight all the time. Not just little bickers but constant disagreements and sometimes little playful physical fights. Who knew that they secretly had a crush on each other?

Sanji usually came home and made the dinner. It wasn't that Zoro didn't offer. He did often offer but Sanji was a good cook and well... Zoro burns water.

Sanji took his jacket off and put it on the hook. He moved purely on auto pilot for the kitchen. He just wanted to relax for the night so he might as well get started on dinner. He rolled up his sleeves, got the ingredients out and got ready to make a stir-fry. At one point, he was in his own world when he got the surprise of his life when he felt two strong hands wrap around him.

"Hmm..." Zoro's baritone voice hummed as he buried his face in Sanji's hair before kissing the nape of his neck, "Sorry, was showering. Didn't hear you come in..."

"Oh? Special occasion? You've showered twice this month," Sanji teased, continuing to cook the chicken on the pan, "Surely not for me?"

Zoro lowly chuckled before slapping Sanji's ass. That got an annoyed huff from Sanji as Zoro stood back, "For you? I can think of plenty other people I'd rather get all dressed up for," He stepped to the side to kiss Sanji's cheek before going off into the fridge. Sanji shook his head with a chuckle.

"Beer? Already?" Sanji noticed Zoro grabbing a bottle. He did like his beer. Maybe a little too much at times.

"Any time is a good time for beer..." Zoro almost did a double take and grabbed a second one out, "Sorry, were you feeling left out?"

"No. I'd rather have wine, thank you," Sanji said, shaking his head. Zoro watched him for a moment with a look of knowing. Sanji never spoke in detail about the hospital visits and Zoro never pressured him to. He knew Sanji was strong and capable of dealing with his own problems. That was partly why he loved him. Someone who could look after himself and dealing with his own problems...normally.

But sometimes, like now when Zoro watched him, he wondered if Sanji really was doing okay.

"Do you want a glass of wine?"

"Yes please,"

Zoro moved to the cabinet, retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses. There was a quiet reserved understanding as an acknowledgement of things Sanji never said to anyone else. Sanji focused on the cooking. Cooking had always been his safe place. A refuge for him. A place he could forget about worries but even tonight, he couldn't stop thinking about Zeff's tired eyes and raspy cough. Would he ever get better? Would things ever improve?

He was brought out of his worries when Zoro passed him his glass of wine. For a moment, their fingers brushed past each other. It was a soft, simple, small moment but Sanji was grateful for the small touch. He smiled at him and took a sip of his wine; the rich taste being a distraction for a long day.

When dinner was done, they ate in silence which was unusual. Absent of the usual playful jabs at each other. Zoro seemed to sense that Sanji was in thought and gave him time to think. Their eyes would meet across the table every now and then, a silent conversation between them.

Normally, Zoro would help with dishes, but Sanji wanted to do them on his own. Another activity that would allow Sanji to sink off and think about things. Once he was done, he went into the living room and saw Zoro searching through the channels mindlessly. Sanji sat down next to him, just inches apart before Zoro reached his arms out for him to cuddle into him.

And Sanji couldn't say no.

Sanji nestled into Zoro's embrace. The familiar strength of his strong arms bringing that all too familiar comfort. There was the glow of the tv flickering but neither of them paid attention. Sanji's mind was elsewhere. He tried closing his eyes, but Sanji could only think about the hospital. Zoro stroked his hair which was comforting. They didn't need to voice their feelings or concerns; it was almost telepathic in a way. Right now, that was enough. They sat in silence for a while longer. The television chatter in the distance was merely background noise as Zoro was that safety anchor for him right now. Sanji was caught in a sea of emotions. Fear, sadness and helplessness.

As the night drew on, they stayed on the couch and Sanji was lost in their shared silence. Eventually, they headed to bed as the day wore them down. Sanji lay in the darkness listening to Zoro's breathing. He was almost asleep when he heard his phone start buzzing. Sanji slowly raised his body and sleepily, answered the phone.

"Hello?"

It was the nurse. The nurse that was looking after Zeff that night.

Zoro woke up too. Groggily, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at his boyfriend's face and was surprised by what he saw. Sanji looked concern, as if the phone call was serious.

"I understand. I'm on my way,"

Sanji's voice was a whisper. He ended the call, and the reality began to set in.

"Sanji..."

The words of the nurse echoed in his head. There was a mix of urgency that only spurred Sanji to turn the lamp on, "Zeff's condition has gotten worse. They asked if I wanted to see him,"

Zoro didn't ask any more questions. He didn't need to as he moved out of bed. He began to get clothes for Sanji and helped him get ready before getting ready himself. Although he didn't have the words for the moment, he had already decided he would go with him.

They left the house quickly. The cold dark night was an unwelcome guest and the hospital felt distorted to Sanji, like a brand-new cruel world. His steps were quick as he navigated the all too familiar hallways. Zoro was by his side which offered comfort in the sterile and impersonal environment. As they reached the room where Zeff had been, Sanji's chest pounded in his chest. The reality of the situation beginning to settle in. His steps almost began to hesitate to go any further but with Zoro next to him, it gave him a little courage.

When he got there, Sanji looked inside the door. The room was dimly lit with the illumination of the lamp next to the bed. Monitors had been added to the room to keep an eye on Zeff, but they held a haunting melody of beeping.

Zeff was there. He hadn't been looking for this frail earlier. The nurse had explained it had been a very sudden bad turn, but he hadn't been expecting this. Zeff, a once robust fiery chef who had dominated the kitchen now appeared to be a shell of his former self. His breathing was shallow, chest rising barely noticeable.

Sanji approached the bed, taking a chair over. He reached out his hand, trembling slightly and reached for Zeff's hand. Much like with Zoro, he usually had an unspoken love for Zeff. He didn't need to hug him constantly and tell him a million times how much he meant to him.

But right now, it felt so right. His hand was cold. A sign of a life fading.

"Causing trouble...as usual," Sanji's laugh was hollow. He wanted to cry. He really wanted to cry but he couldn't. His voice was barely a whisper. The words lost within the beeping on the machines. Zoro didn't enter the room. He knew this was an important moment and he didn't want to impede on that, so he waited in the hallway.

Sanji leaned in. His eyes were watching the lines of Zeff's face as if to memorise every detail. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to tell Zeff. Memories flooded back. Day and nights when Sanji were a child. When Zeff took him off the streets and taught him how to cook. Those harsh scoldings that were heartfelt moments. Sanji's throat tightened but he just couldn't cry.

"...You...Zeff..." Sanji didn't know how he could begin to explain. How much Zeff had changed his life and how much Zeff had mean to him. How was Sanji supposed to explain that to him?

"If it wasn't for...well, you taught me everything I needed to know about cooking...and about life. I wish I could have told you this more,"

The silence stretched on. The sounds of the hospital filled the space. Time began to stand still. As the night wore on, Sanji stayed by his side. Zoro stayed, a silent and understanding comfort to Sanji.

In those last moments, the reality of the situation seemed to rattle around in Zeff's final moments. As Zeff took his last breath, the world seemed to come to a halt as the monitor let out it's death call. Nurses and doctors coming in the room to call the death. The moment seemed so surreal. Sanji's body couldn't move as the medical staff moved around him.

Finally, he felt Zoro's hand on his shoulder and suddenly it was clear to him what had happened. Zeff was gone. The nurses let the men know what they could stay as long as they want but Sanji didn't say anything. He just nodded. The monitor was turned off, enveloping them in silence.

"We should...we should go..." Sanji said, his voice was barely audible despite the silence. Zoro nodded, understanding that Sanji needed to grieve in private.

"Okay...let's go,"

Outside the air was cold but Sanji barely felt it. Memories and emotions were reminding him in the most painful way of what he had lost. Zoro walked by his side but didn't say anything. He didn't know what he could say but he was going to support him regardless of what was going on. Once they were home, the silence could be cut through with a knife.

Despite the grief, Sanji's priority was getting ready for bed. The two men were in the bedroom. Both not really spoken to each other since they got back. However, as Sanji sat on the edge of his bed, the reality of Zeff's death began to sink in and tears finally broke through, silent and hot streaming down his face.

Zeff was gone.

Sanji felt arms wrap around him from behind. It was as if Zoro could sense his pain and that made Sanji allow himself to be held. No words needed to be said. Zoro didn't feel the need to talk. Sanji cried into his arms but said nothing. He cried until he fell asleep.

They needed to go to the village for a few supplies. The village nearby was a sharp contract to the city they had left behind. They had driven there by car with nothing but an uncomfortable silence between them but walked the rest of the way when they were nearby. As they walked through the narrow cobblestone streets, they passed by curious, friendly faces of the village. It was one of those quiet places. You know the one's where everyone knows everyone.

They were looking for a grocery store and they had managed to find one. There was a small local independent nestled between a quaint bakery and a worn down book shop. When they ended the door, the bell at the top of the door jingled cheerily as they went inside.

Inside were a maze of wooden shelves with local goods. Behind the counter is an elderly couple who must be the owners.

"Ah, visitors," The old man greeted with a wave, "You two don't look like the regular folk. There aren't many tourists to this place,"

Sanji forced a smile as he looked at the couple," Yeah, we're staying at the house nearby for a bit. We just need to pick up a little things,"

This was when the wife turned around. She was watching countdown on an old fashioned looking tv and knitting a baby blanket, but it was as if she knew what house they were talking about.

"That wouldn't happen to be the old Whitmore manor. The one just outside the village. It's a big Victorian place?"

Zoro turned around to look at Sanji, but Sanji wasn't looking at him. Sanji, seeing as he was the one who did all the cooking, was too busy putting things in his basket for a shopping list that was in his head so instead, Zoro turned back to them, "That's the one. Why, is it famous around here or something?"

The old couple gave small look as if talking telepathically before the man looking over at him and smiling, "Well, you could say that. Whitmore Manor has gathered a bit of a reputation these days. It's an old Victorian building with quite a... colourful history,"

Sanji was in the middle of reading the back of a tin before he looked over the couple. Despite himself, he was intrigued. Did Zoro know all of this? "History? What kind of history?!

"It's said to be haunted," The woman added with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, "It's an urban legend around these parts. Strange sights, unexplained noises..."

Zoro scoffed, shaking his head, "Haunted? Sounds like nonsense. Ghosts don't exist,"

The old man shrugged, "Perhaps it's nonsense. Who knows. However, the house has seen many people live saying that something want's them gone,"

Sanji's interest was piqued even though he didn't believe such stories, "Something that wants them gone? Isn't that ominous?"

Thee old woman nodded, settling down her knitting, "It has been an urban legend around here as I said. Eerie happenings. Items moving on their own. Some people passing the house even claim to see an old Victorian woman standing at the window,"

Zoro is clearly not convinced and raised an eyebrow at Sanji as to say are you buying this?? "And everyone just chalks it up to ghosts I guess?"

"Whether you believe it or not," The man conceded, "But the house does have its way of being remembered by everyone who visits it. Well, let's just say that it has a presence,"

The pair of them finish their shopping. As they left, Sanji felt a child down his back that wasn't caused by the evening air. The village, once was a town that was forgotten by time, was now a place that held secrets. When they were back in the car, Sanji spoke first.

"What do you think about what they said?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, "Serious Sanji? Not you too. Please don't tell me that you don't believe what those two crazies said?"

"I don't know," Sanji mumbled. Maybe the idea of things from the past haunting the present felt oddly comforting, "The house does have a vibe...and it's really old,"

"Really? Come on. This village likely doesn't have anything interesting to talk about, so they make up stories to make their little town seem more interesting,"

Sanji didn't know what he could say in response. Maybe Zoro was right. It wasn't the kind of thing that Sanji normally would have believed in. Well, until recently, he never believed in ghosts at all.

Sanji gazed out the window as Zoro focused on growing back. He had come to this place to get over the death of his mentor but he couldn't help having a twinge of curiosity at the house they were returning to.

The Whitmore Manor. What mysterious were hidden behind its walls? What history was hidden in its architecture seemed to loom in front of them. It was starting to get a dark now. The car's headlights cutting through the roads ahead. Sanji continued to look out the window. The old couple's words becoming a distraction from his grief.

He looked over at Zoro. It was as if he wanted to say something but wasn't able to. Zoro was a practical man who didn't believe in ghosts like this. Sanji normally didn't but he couldn't help but be curious. He knew that this was due in part to their growing apart. Had this happened not too long ago, Sanji and Zoro would have just laughed about it. He wanted to bridge a gap between them and reconnect. He wanted to laugh with him and tease him again. But no, they travelled in silence lost in their own thoughts.

As they approached the house, it stood in the darkening skies. Sanji tried to put what the couple had said out of his mind, but he couldn't help but feel...weird. He looked over at Zoro who didn't seem fazed.

When they went inside, Sanji went to go and cook dinner with the groceries they had bought. After the couple's stories, the house took on a new appearance. It felt as if literal bodies were hiding in the walls. Sanji, normally sceptical, didn't know what to think of it anymore. The shadows seemed to take on lives of their own and the old floorboards felt as if they were even louder this time. Sanji moved to the kitchen on his own to start dinner.

As he chopped vegetables, the sound of silence enveloped him. It was as if he was the only person left in the house. The silence was filled with the supposed and unknown history of the house. He was half expecting a hand to rub his back, ghostly lips to whisper into his ear or even hear the rustle of a dress from another era. There was nothing, only the sound and smells of his own cooking as Zoro went to set the table for later.

Dinnertimes often felt awkward. There was no more of the playful banter and jabbing at each other. Sanji barely ate. Between the smoking more than normal and the grieving he often felt, he barely eats the food he ate. He'd lost so much weight recently, which was not a success as he was already very slim. The dinner passed in strained silence which was punctuated by the clink of cutlery and small talk. The grandeur of the room began to feel as if it was looking down on the pair, with its high ceilings and antique furnishing heavy with the souls of the past.

Eyes glanced around the room. Sanji began to feel paranoid that he might see something at the corner of his eyes but...nothing. There was nothing else in this dim room than them.

Sanji insisted on doing the dishes alone. He wanted the distraction from the tales of the house. They took root in his imagination. Zoro was in the living room, enjoying a beer on the armchair feeling completely unfazed by the house's history. When Sanji was done, Zoro had fallen asleep. Sanji looked at him from the doorway where an all too familiar pang hit his chest when he looked at him...

Sanji decided not to wake him up. He retired to the bedroom and got ready for bed. He lay on the double bed and looked up at the celling. He thought about Zoro. Their relationship had changed so much. It all felt like some sort of distant memory now. He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

In the early morning, a sudden noise woke him up. He jolted. During his sleep, Zoro had joined him and was sleeping next to him but away from him. He tapped Zoro's shoulder.

"Zoro..."

Zoro doesn't wake up. Sanji sat up, listening intently. It sounded like soft footsteps in the hallway that were getting fainter and fainter. He really had to strain his ears to hear it. His heart was racing in his chest as he listened to the noise. The sound was eerie. It was haunting. He looked back at Zoro again who remained asleep.

When he was sure Zoro was completely asleep, Sanji got out of bed quickly as his feet landed on the cold floor. His figure was illuminated in the light of the window. He tips toed towards the door and placed his hair against it. At first, he didn't hear it and he was prepared to dismiss it again, but the footsteps got further and further away.

Once Sanji opened it and stepped into the hall, the sound of the footsteps ceased. Sanji moved down the hallway with delicate steps. His eyes scanned the various shadows for any sign of movement. The silence was almost as haunting as he waited for the noises to happen again with anticipation. Sanji continued to make his way to the stairs before he stood at the stop of the stairs and looked.

For a single moment, he thought he saw a shadow standing downstairs. His breath caught in his throat.

"Hey!"

The shadow moved away, and Sanji began to move downstairs. The old floorboards began to creak under his feet and the noise becoming louder in the middle of the night. The steps making creaks until he got to the bottom floor and then.

Silence.

Sanji stood there for a moment. His mind was racing as he looked down the hallway. Were that really footsteps or was that the old house settling? At last, he sighed and began to run back upstairs. As he went back to the bedroom and then stepped inside and slipped into the bed. His mind was restless. For once, he was not thinking about the death of his adoptive father. Now, his mind was concerned with ghosts and the past.

#one piece zosan #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fanfic #opla #one piece #roronoa zoro #op zosan

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disabledstraydogs · 7 months ago

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Hi hello [we are the anon that requested sdbpd+chronic pain dazai btw] we saw that you were fine with us ranting so we decided why not [it’s fine if you don’t read this as it will probably be lengthy,,][also our wording may be weird and we apologize if it is/gen]

Honestly our Main reasoning for Dazai having sdbpd is the fact he fits every single symptoms[listed below]

a decrease in the desire to sleep

Sh behaviors[such as burning,scratching,and hitting]

Risky adrenaline-seeking activities

Threats of suicide+suicide idealization

[dazai aswell shows pretty much all of the symptoms for regular BPD but we are focusing on the self destruction aspects]

I mean like his actions speak for themselves/lh

The way he’s treated also reminds us of how we are treated by [mainly our parents]bc of our sd bpd[or as our mother likes to say “borderline tendencies/derog”]/nav

Anyways that’s the simplified explanation for us thinking Dazai has sdbpd/lh [now onto the chronic pain]

Hands down Dazai 100% suffers from peripheral neuropathy wich would def cause the chronic pain

Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that happens when the nerves outside of the brain and in the spinal cord are damaged. It can be caused by traumatic injuries, infections, metabolic problems, inherited causes and exposure to toxins.

Wich honestly makes a lot of sense for Dazai [we don’t remember if this is canon or just implied]when in+out of the mafia he probably has gone through torture[wich with tortures there’s a lot of different kinds] and the fact that he dose not take care of his wounds well wich prob has caused countless infections AND he fell down that elevator shaft+injected poison into his veins+has consumed many toxins before would be ample enough trauma to cause damage to his nerves.

Wich then leaves us to the chronic pain part

He would prob be suffering from some if not all of these symptoms [listed below]

Gradual onset of numbness, prickling, and/or tingling in his feet and/or hands. These sensations may spread upward into his legs and arms.

Sharp, jabbing, throbbing or burning pain

Extreme sensitivity to touch

Pain during activities that shouldn't cause pain[like pain in his feet when putting weight on them]

Lack of coordination and falling

Muscle weakness.

Feelings of wearing gloves/socks when hes not

The Inability to move if motor nerves are affected

And if autonomic nerves are affected he may suffer from

Heat intolerance.

Excessive sweating/not being able to sweat.

Bowel, bladder and/or digestive problems.

Drops in blood pressure wich cause dizziness and/or lightheadedness.

Honestly at this point we just feel even worse for him/ lh

[we do not know if this made any sort of sense but we hope it did][and we would love to hear your thoughts/nf/gen]

[also ik we have only ever sent in 2 asks but we may plan on sending in more so i’unno if there’s a Dazai anon yet but if there isn’t perhaps that could be our sign off?/nf/genq]

Anon I love this post so much, I'm too tired to go through every point here but !!!! YEAH I agree so much.

Also dw you made a lot of sense, this was detailed and good to read.

And yeah!!! You can have the Dazai anon tag :D

#text #bsd dazai #dazai anon #long post #ask to tag

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urfavoritesecretadmirer · 9 months ago

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Hi! Your account is so cool!

Care to infodumo about your system? Always happy to hear about it, it's a big hyper fixation for us systems and how they function! (I saw your post saying how much you loved talking about it so-)

Tysm!! And omg someone asking us to infodump??

Pats the seat next to us sit my friend, I’m about to take hours of your time (I used some questions from systems asks btw lmao)

Alter count: We don’t know our alter count yet, but we know there is at least 100+. It’s really interesting honestly, and sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have an alter count of a smaller number than what we have like 4-7.

Non-Human alters: I’m back with this. I don’t think we have any alters that are LITERAL OBJECTS, but we do have alters that SOURCES are objects. We do have one alter who is like the human version of a lavender plant though :).

Overt or covert: We are covert at first. Our switches from what other people have described them as, are very covert. But, once we come out to someone, usually they go ‘ohhh so that’s why you act like that’ and then we’re overt to them.

Gender: Lots of variety of gender in the system. Host (me) uses Any/All pronouns but prefers He/She. And by Any/All, I mean any/all. Go crazy with neopronouns when referring to me. I beg you they are so cool.

Nonverbal alters?: Yes! There’s a few of us who are non-verbal or semi-verbal for a multitude of reasons. Some are only non-verbal online because they are insecure about their grammar, being non-verbal doesn’t mean an alter can’t read (cough directed at fakeclaimers cough).

Different languages/accents?: From what I know, I don’t think any alters speak a different language! Some of us do accents for fun because some of us are into theatre and acting.

How has your alter count changed over time?: So we have a lot of consistent and severe trauma. I'll just say that /nav. So, we split/form alters pretty easily. It has definitely affected our alter count because..well..easy splits!

Quotes?: “Not enough bones in my foot?!?!” -Dutch

“Don’t insult me you plastic candy wrapper.” - Luc

“They identify as Japan and not in an RCTA way?!!?!?” - Sal (after seeing someone use 🇯🇵/🇯🇵self and Japan/Japanself pronouns).

Names?: Most of us just..spawned with names? Obviously these names can change, and if an alter didn’t appear with a name we go through baby names lists.

Introjects?: We do have a lot of introjects but we are not an introject heavy system. Most of our introjects do not feel connected to their source.

Collective name?: Our collective name is Coven of Cards but we may change it. We came up with this name because at the time, we had about 70-75 alters like in a deck of cards.

Common fronters?: Besides me obvs, Sal, Chandler, Ramona, Luke, and Mary are our most frequent fronters!

Sexuality?: Sexuality also varies in the system. And it’s interesting because I am asexual so when I co-front or am co-con with an alter who isn’t everything feels weird lol.

What type of system are you?: Polyfragmented DID and traumagenic :)

Ages?: We vary in ages too! We’re not 100% sure whether our alters are actually a different age than the body or just present that way tho. Our oldest alter is 60+ years old and our youngest is 3.

How do you keep track of your system?: We use SimplyPlural and PluralKit, both of which we’re still in the process of registering everyone.

Hair color?: Also varies! One of our alters, Layla, has rainbow hair :)

Do you know any systems irl?: Yes, but both are DSMP fans so we’re not comfortable around them.

Friendly reminder to everyone on our blog to pls feel free to ask questions we love questions ☺️🫶

-🧿

#did system #did osdd #actually osdd #osdd #actually did #osddid #osdd system #osdd 1b #actually traumagenic #traumagenic did #system community #system posting #system asks #system positivity #dissociative system #system things #system stuff #traumagenic system #system ask game

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abbatoirablaze · 4 months ago

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Racing Stripes, Season 2, Chapter 3

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: slight angst, talk of expectations, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of underage dating/dubcon relationships.

“Don’t forget about your date!” her father teased over his shoulder.

Samantha groaned as she spared her father a glance, “dad-“

“You agreed to it, Samantha! You can’t go back on it.” he said with a smug look as his own gaze went back to the podium where Lewis was standing proudly, holding his bottle of champagne. She glanced in his direction and the older man gave her a smile and a slight nod.

“I agreed to give him a chance!” she corrected him as she looked back towards her father, “and that means-“

“Giving him a chance to take you out when he gets a win?” he said hopefully, “you know, he doesn’t want to pick a motorsports girl. He said that he plans on picking Vetel’s wife for him despite him being on the Aston Martin team so they can still spend time together. He’s a really great guy, Samantha.”

“Well bully for him.”

“Lewis is a good man, Samantha.”

“And he’s thirty-six, dad. I’m only twenty-one.”

He shrugged, “the two of you didn’t seem to have any concerns for your age when you started dating him four years ago.”

She gave him a soft glare, “I’m not arguing this, dad. Tell Lewis that he can pick me up in an hour or so for our date. I’m going to drive back to the hotel and shower.”

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Samantha’s eyes snapped up to the drivers. She was mad at the fact that she had been stood up by Lewis, even more so after she’d received a text from her father in his place, asking to reschedule instead of a message directly from him, “What do you want, Max?”

“Can I sit?” he asked. She softened, feeling bad for the driver she was technically in charge of. She nodded and he slid next to her, his feet dangling over the water just as hers were, “You’re awfully dressed up to be sitting alone on a dock. We didn’t even come in first.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, shrugging off the comment, “I guess I just set myself up for failed expectations…”

The driver frowned, “Is everything alright?”

“It’s nothing,” she frowned in response, trying to ease herself out of the conversation. He watched as she played with a piece of paper, continuously unfolding and refolding it. When he didn’t speak again, she ceased her movements and looked up at him, “really…i-I’m fine. I just-needed some space. Needed some fresh air to think. You know?”

“I could leave if you like.”

“I don’t mind it when you’re here!” she replied honestly, looking back to her paper.

Max felt pride swelling in his chest and the smallest of smiles creeping up onto his face as he looked at her once more, “You don’t?”

“No,” she smiled softly, finally daring to look back at him, “I-I feel like you get it, you know? Like you understand…”

“Then talk about what’s bothering you, with me?” he asked, trying to get her to open up. She sighed once more and the paper fell into her lap, “I know that something is wrong, Samantha.”

“Do-do you ever feel trapped?”

“All the time,” he laughed softly, admitting something that he normally wouldn’t allow himself to say, “try living a life that’s strewn with the red tape of being a driver. There are bigger lists of things that I can’t do because Helmut and Horner believe that it’ll put my career in jeopardy if I do.”

“I mean…with like parents and stuff?” she asked slowly. When he didn’t reply, she shook her head and picked up the piece of paper from her lap to play with it once more, “never mind…it-it was stupid of me to ask. I’m sorry, Max.”

“Like when you just want to be happy, but your parents have your whole life planned out for you down to the millimeter?” he asked softly after a moment, “because if you’re referring to something like that, I know exactly what it feels like…wanting to spend the day inside doing homework because you’ve fallen behind, but your father takes you to the track, saying you can learn arithmetic by calculating speeds and navigating corners…other mathematics are applied through over and understeering and gauging how to read the tread of a tire based on the track quality and laps on it…or getting high speed reading by seeing boards…wanting to drink hot chocolate on a cold winter day and play in the snow but he takes you to the track and makes you do so many laps that you can’t feel your fingers. Or are you referring to when you do not come high enough in a race and being abandoned along a roadway…yeah. I know what it’s like to want something other than what your father plans for you. Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like to have friends outside of karting so I could play football on a weekend, or go to a dance.”

“I’m sorry Max.”

“For what?” he scoffed, “it’s not like you’re the one that did any of those things to me…”

“No kid should have to be put under that sort of pressure though.”

He shrugged, “if anything it made me the person that I am…it made me realize the person that I want to be when I get to that point in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-one day…I want to be a father,” he said softly, “but I-I don’t want to be the type of father that my dad was to me…I want my children to feel loved…and supported…and protected. I-I want them to see me as Superman…there to pick them up when they fall…and there even when they don’t need me. I don’t want them to have the same stories that I did. I-I want them to be able to choose their own paths.”

“That’s sweet…”

He gave her a solemn smile, “what about you?”

“What about me?” she asked, “I’m here doing what is expected of me…”

“And what is that?”

“Making sure that my family is okay…making sure that my dad is happy. And that-“

“Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are? You? Happy?” he asked simply, repeating the question in a much more deliberate manner, “because if you aren’t happy then-“

“No…”

“No?”

“No,” she repeated, “but my father expects me to follow through with this…to let Lewis back into my life if he keeps winning. I mean, I know that he doesn’t love me, but I know that my father expects me to settle down with a driver one day. Like most girls in our world. I’ll probably marry him and pop out a few kids while I fall back to Mercedes because my dad’s there…and then when Lewis is ready to retire we’ll move to wherever he wants to. And as far as my dad, he’s got a reputation…and I’m Toto’s daughter, so I have to keep a firm upper lip and-“

“You shouldn’t have to do something just because someone else expects you to do it, Samantha,” he said solemnly, reaching out to take one of her hands in his own, “you are worth so much more than some expectation that a parent has for you.”

She sighed to herself and leaned into Max, pressing a sweet, simple kiss to his jaw, “you’re a sweet man, Max…I only wish the world could work the way that you believe it should. If it did, it might be a much better, more romantic place.”

“It could be!” he offered, giving her a small look.

“Not for me!” she frowned as she got up and started away from him, “I hope you sleep well, Max.”

“Yeah,” he muttered in response as he watched her walk away from him, “you too, Samantha.”

Chapter 4

#racing stripes #season 2 #2021 racing season #redbull #max verstappen #formula 1 #fia #motorsports #lewis hamilton #mercedes

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crossover-enthusiast · 6 months ago

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Lmaooo yeah

As for Nancy—eh she's both just something for me to project all of my abandonment issues and trauma onto, and also because im transfem and I like making characters who are also transfem jdmdms

And Iris—I kinda made her because in a way, I strangely feel like her sometimes? I've gotten so used to the world by now that I can basically predict what's gonna happen, and often when pointing out things wrong with humanity, I speak as if I'm not even a human myself. And even though I haven't been in this world that long as far as I can tell, sometimes the world is so predictable its hard not to feel like I've been on it for thousands of years at this point. In other words, she's also a trauma projection oc. /lh /nav

Ooooh

Also damn that makes Iris even more wild /lh

#Sunny Tag

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bombshellxmichelle · 1 year ago

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I don’t think he is my life partner whatsoever because this avoided an anxious dynamic I don’t know it’s not working for me. I don’t like how I live my life when I am waiting on you, and it turns into this self hate, because I hate myself for relying on you, I wish I didn’t need you set up this fantasy in my head that you’re going to do everything and I don’t hear from you. You keep me at a distance and I’ll always feel like I need to somehow get your attention somehow have you pay tension or listen to me. Trust me I know I love you and I know that I want to support you. I’m always want to disappoint anybody in my life with Him with whatever they’re passionate about it’s just a matter of feeling secure and having my needs met to. I must remind myself that there is nothing wrong with needing security meeting attachment needing connection, needing consistency and communication. That’s what a partner‘s job is that’s what a teammate is And I am trying my best to be your teammate at the same time. I can’t keep denying these feelings I feel because I don’t feel safe and secure at my core. This is happened for so many months that I feel like there’s no point in bringing up to anybody because the tips on versing I’ve spoken with Terri NAV, Matthew, Shania, Eva, mom, dad, Jessica, Farah Jasmine like Denise Dorothy like 80% of them 90% of them tell me to leave him so what’s holding you back mesh it’s probably all so that we both match each other’s traumas and our childhood since probably why I was so stuck in toxic with one another. What’s the point in trying this on because it’s not like one day he’s going to suddenly change or become the partner. I’ve always wanted him to be. This is very mystical stuff. These are minuscule minuscule. Me not being able to feel secure while you’re absent it’s not a reflection of my emotional strength entirely. It’s also a reflection of your ability to recognize your partners needs to handle your own emotions and to show up for your partner and I can also be sad about myself. I am really not perfect. I really do have flaws and I feel like I see them every day And every interaction in a group setting I have to deal with this constant anxiety. Let it be talked about behind my back and just feel like I’m waiting for that. I’m crying and I’m glad because I can finally release my emotions. I’m sad. Right now I probably need some self compassion and to just be gentle with myself, and knowing what my needs are and what my triggers are, and spending time with them and healing them, nurturing them, listening to myself, and what’s inside of me and processing things in a healthy way through journaling, through meditating through Speaking out loud like this is helpful and to not engage in numbing activities like wondering, wondering and wondering about the partner in a codependent way or bingeing and purging to release my emotions or smoking weed to numb at all I don’t necessarily feel I guess I just had high expectations of myself and I’m supposed to thrive this summer in boats and vacations and boys and dates and dressing up and being the fittest of my life which is going to happen. Don’t make excuses but I just need some time and I also need to be pushed which I will be. It’s just a matter of doing overthink it but I do that’s the problem I do you can’t just tell me don’t do that it doesn’t work like that it’s kind of like I can’t just tell him to show up for me and suddenly he’s a new man. It doesn’t work like that you have to find compatibility in the qualities from the gecko The very stupid thing is that I’ve seen a lot of these problems in the beginning but I don’t listen to my New Edition. I remember that one day journalling about Kelly and then now it’s like I remember the days I turn off the boat service does it really matter how I feel when I’m around everyone when I’m alone I just feel all this pain Doesn’t really matter is it worth it was with the hot and cold water I feel so up and down I don’t want to go into this fucking rabbit hole and thinking about all my childhood. This happened charlatan

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thelifeoflorna · 2 years ago

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~13/3/2023~ It was a different sort of Monday as no H, and no cover :/ I had a fairly slow start - took another covid test as still struggling with a slightly high temperature but that’s the only symptom I have and feel okay once I take paracetamol to bring it down - the test was negative. After tidying away some clothes went out on the bus to Lewes as I know the route is very quiet (just in case) - had a bit of a wander, got some lunch from a bakery, enjoyed the brisk wind. Then went to Caffè Nero for a hot drink and sit down - at first was feeling a bit weary, but then managed to write some notes on everything that felt wrong about the recovery college ADHD course. Got the bus back as needed to be home for my Tesco delivery. The driver phoned me saying my address wasn’t coming up on his sat nav (which is very strange given that the street has been there for nearly 100 years) - he kept asking whereabouts in Haywards Heath I was and sounded annoyed with my answers - I told him the adjoining streets and he managed to find it, but we found the whole thing unsettling. Also got a phone call about arranging cardio exercise test. I texted AKA as knew she had had the consultation with the Complex Trauma Service today and wanted to hear the outcome - the head of the service she spoke to said she needed to take it away and speak to the rest of the team and then let her know the decision by the end of the month - AKA doesn’t think it will be a positive outcome, which feels weirdly promising as this outcome would help my case for seeking NHS funding for Beacon House! Started writing an email about recovery college course in the late afternoon. Took another covid test, then went off to rock choir in the evening. When I got home, carried on writing email about recovery college course and ended up staying up a bit late, but was determined to finish it. 🦄 — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/tIzGW3h

#Instagram #IFTTT

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dimepdf · 3 years ago

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❝ LOVERS WHO HESITATE ❞ | one — andrew!peter parker

summary | Peter was shocked to see you, or at least someone who looked like you, after being thrown into a different splitting multiverse that wasn't his. Having to push aside his emotional attachment and deal with the trauma he hasn't dealt with since the traumatic day you were taken from him.

pairing:��peter parker x black!malereader

genre: angst, strangers to lovers, tooth rotting fluff

length: 1.5k words

cw: NWH SPOILERS!! strong language, graphic depictions of violence, bisexual peter parker, reader is TALL, andrew!peter getting the closure he deserves

song(s) to listen to: for lovers who hesitate by JANNABI

a/n | Since the moment I walked out of the theater, I've been sweating to create this series. Really good film that had me crying like a grown man while also giggling like a schoolgirl with her feet in the air.

m.list — nav. — edited & spell checked!

part one | part two | final — coming soon

"Find Peter..." concentration was written all over Ned's face, the ring seemingly giving him newfound confidence as he inhaled deeply, before balling his fist and circling the other in a motion you assumed he saw the owner of the ring: Dr.Strange did that create his.

You stood tall behind MJ, your chest reaching her shoulder as you backed away from the brash orange portal that split open in front of Ned, who was still getting used to the new skill he appeared to have mastered the day before. "Peter?" you asked, your eyes darting around the portal as your friends called out to the masked figure inside.

As you watched the suited man, you noticed something was... off, and your worry was replaced with a frown as you saw the man slightly duck his head under just to fit inside the portal and into the room.

As you all watched the man in the suit fully enter the room, you could tell by his height that he wasn't your Spiderman, as Ned and MJ stumbled to get as far away as possible from the stranger screaming once he leaped through the glowing circle.

He was attempting to calm a yelling group of people he had never met before. His voice was a dead giveaway if it wasn't for his height. In contrast to the man in front of you, Peter's tone has a more awkward, nervous glint in it; he wasn't your Peter.

"You're not Peter," you said as he reached up to remove his spider mask, and you all appeared to freeze. You yelped, attempting to loosen MJ's bone-crushing grip on your arm as she used you as a human shield between the intruder and her.

You watched as his arms were raised to show he didn't mean any harm, and his gaze seemed to travel up to you as he swallowed once he met your gaze. "Holy shit," Peter said quietly enough for no one else to hear. His heartbeat seemed to be pounding harder against his chest.

You looked exactly like he remembered you, only much taller, which made the skin under his suit sweat even more. Your hair was in a half-ass bun with some strands of dreads in front of your face, covering your (e/c) eyes, and your face was definitely younger and broad.

He used to admire the way your thick brows arched and your lips paused in a line when you asked a question. Peter despised the way your gaze lingered on his face, causing his cheeks to flush.

"Who the hell are you?" Your question snapped him from a sort of trance as he lowered his hands and fidgeted with his mask in response to your question. He came out of his trance. He'd never become accustomed to hearing your voice. Your commanding demeanor always seemed to smack him in the face.

When he first met you, it was a characteristic of yours that he was instantly infatuated with. Being able to turn heads simply by speaking in a certain way. "My name is Peter Parker," he said, and he was right. Though he managed to keep his tone clear, he almost cringed when he realized how different it was from yours.

You felt MJ nudge you to the side, trying to get a better look at the man in front of you all, who was staring at you in disbelief. "You're lying," she said sternly, her glare turning deadly.

Peter swallowed the butterflies in his stomach as he shifted his gaze to the woman standing behind you, who was unaccustomed to facing you without breaking into a nervous fit. He was scanning his mind for a way to persuade these strangers that his name was indeed Peter Parker, aside from the hard evidence of him wearing his Spiderman suit. "I'm Spiderman from my world. Yesterday I was there...but now I'm here."

As he realized there was no way to sound less insane, his words fumbled in his throat. Before allowing his mind to wander further into the idea of him being in a different universe, he turned to you for approval. "Multiverse theory?" he wondered aloud, and you stood there watching as the stranger became engrossed in his thoughts. You'd swear the man had the same nerdish mannerisms as your original Peter if it weren't for his drastically different appearance.

Ned returned your gaze, gesturing to the ring that had been placed on his finger. "This has to be because of the spell," he concluded as he watched as Peter, who was much taller than Peter, stalked closer to your group of friends, his interest captivated "spell? like a magic spell." He had a look of pure delight on his face.

As yours was almost persuaded by his lopsided smile. His posture appeared stiff as his head hovered over Ned's as he stood up straight. Your friends seemed to recoil closer to you as you watched, stumbling to get more distance away from the stranger.

"Prove it, prove to us that you're Spiderman, Peter Parker." MJ insisted that her gaze never leave his, as he appeared to be struggling more under everyone's scrutiny.

You all stood there watching as he patted his suit, almost as if he was looking through his pockets. He replied, "I don't really carry an ID with me. It kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing." He replied, cringing as he realized the eyes that looked at him with more doubt. He felt compelled to do anything to prove himself to you because of his identity.

seemed to just be there to decorate the dinner table, MJ pulled her arm back and smacked the man out of his wandering thoughts. "Ow! what the, can you not do that? Why are you doing that?" As she armed herself with another loaf of bread, he only looked at her in bewilderment.

"You don't have the little-Peter tinkle thing," you wondered, remembering how your best friend had god-like reflexes as a result of his enhanced abilities. Peter's face flushed further when he heard you refer to his abilities as "Peter Tinkle."

As yet another loaf smacked dully against his chest and fell flat against the floor, he scrunched up his face. "Yes, I have a tingle thing; just not for bread." As she loaded another stale bread roll, he tried to explain but failed to persuade MJ.

"Can you not throw that bread at me again?" Peter cringed, his arms outstretched as if trying to persuade her of the folly of throwing things at him in the hopes that he would catch them. He mumbled, "You're a deeply mistrusting person, and I kinda respect that," before reaching up with one arm and hopping so his finger hung from the ceiling.

When he met your gaze, a slight lopsided smirk slowly formed on his face as it seemed to clear up most of the misunderstanding. He was dangling from the ceiling, "crawl around," as he hung stiffly by one hand. MJ gave a firm command.

"Crawl around?" He asked the question again, almost as if it was a joke, and he looked at MJ as if she had two heads. "Yes, crawl around." As she was about to throw the loaf of bread, MJ stood her ground, waving it around like a weapon.

"Why do I have to crawl around? I don't want to." He argued, his sass causing MJ to recoil her arm farther back "because it's not enough." The two went back and forth, arguing about what was enough for him to prove himself.

The sensation of Ned's grandmother reaching out to grope your bicep. Drawing your attention to the shorter woman as she seemed to squeeze your muscles before deciding she'd had enough and peering up at you, speaking in a strong Tagalog accent, you managed to pick up some of the things she was saying.

"I think Lola asked if you could, uh-get like that, like the cobweb in the corner," you said, nodding your head at the words you understood from her sting of words and patting her hand that rested on your arm in understanding. As the man crawled to dust away from the web in the corner of the room, you gestured to the side of the room, seeing the woman return a warm smile as she patted your back after returning to her business. You could never get used to seeing a man casually hanging off of the literal ceiling.

He flinched as he landed inches from you, and Peter stumbled away when he realized how close he was. As he apologized for invading your personal space, he flashed a nervous, rushed smile across his features, a small chuckle slipping past his lips.

"I'm going to take a chance and say your name in this reality is (Y/N)?" Peter queried, noting that you were both standing close enough to notice that you were a few inches taller than him. Peter's deep red cheeks went unnoticed as he had to tilt his head up just to meet you.

"Wait—is there a (Y/N) in your world too? Is he black? Be honest. " You weren't someone who thrived in intense situations. You have been used to being the group comedian because it was your natural coping mechanism to make your friends laugh in order to feel better. The other Peter gave a shy smile in response to your remark, your humor being exactly as he remembered it.

"Oh, I hope it's okay. I just came through this. Oh, it just closed." The voice makes both you and Peter snap your heads towards the voice, both Peter's looking at each other with confusion clear on their faces. They stood for a second of silence before shooting a wave of webs at each other, managing to dodge every single hit.

notes: I’ve been trying to remember the movie dialogue from memory, so some of it won’t be directly correct since I can’t rewatch it as many times I want. but I'm just happy to be writing about Andrew Garfield, the man that made me realize "hmm maybe I do like guys, but wait...Emma Stone...." when I was younger, it's so weird being a little kid hiding the fact that I was drooling for a guy from my strict parents and growing up STILL drooling over him now that I'm an openly gay adult. Crazy.

— taglist: @tsukishimawhore @meowkinq @denkisdurag @lolalora

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years ago

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Kanej x gn! Reader - Falling

A/n: So I know I haven't been posting lately and I'm so sorry! I have like 11 drafts (in my Tumblr alone) and I couldn't get any of them done and I don't know why! I also used the Dear Evan Hansen seen Did you fall? As an inspiration!

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! Suicidal reader, falling, heights, suicidal thoughts, mentions of death, language, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: In a heist, you decided to let go

I do not own shadow and bone six of crows or its characters! I also do not own dear Evan Hansen because some of the dialogue came from that! On another note, I also did not make/do not own this image!

Your hand slipped from the ledge and then you were was falling.

Your know Inej had fallen many times, it's practically part of her job description. You had to make mistakes to get better so falling and tumbling was just how it worked, of course, she hadn't any more. Any of the stories she's told you have all been from the past. Kaz had fallen too, he jumped off a building and that's how he injured his leg, but you don't think any of their stories have lived up to this.

Your hair is flung back behind you, and you really have no control over your body. It should seem like your going down but that's not what it looks like, it looks like your floating up. You try and spread out your body so you would slow the speed you were falling at but it's no use.

You try and scream but at the rate that your falling it gets caught in the air and even that ability is taken away from you like so much air fills your lungs.

You don't close your eyes and try to imagine what your life could have been. After all, the only reason you weren't on the ground, safe with your friends was that you had just robbed and gotten Nikolai back Strumhond's ships. You might as well enjoy the view.

Luckily for you, there was a beautiful sunrise in the distance and the clouds seemed to be placed in all the right places like the framing around a picture.

Though it was ironic because it showed that life would go on after you died because death was inevitable for you wasn't it? Your life was just another spec in the universe barely even making a dent in anything.

A bitter thought comes to mind; at least you wouldn't have to deal with all the shit trauma you would have had to go through. The reason you had 'slipped' from the ledge was no coincidence.

The air around you started to get heavy and you could see the bottom of the earth coming closer and closer. It's then where you close your eyes and your mind forms two people - Kaz and Inej.

Your girlfriend and boyfriend would... Gosh, they would probably wreck the world till they found out who made you fall. Only their search would end up empty.

You didn't want to leave them like this, not really yet they had each other. Would good were you? You were always just an extra understudy, you were never good at something you were just... Average.

And why would you want to live in this saint's forsaken world any longer?

Mentally you brace yourself for the impact; you probably wouldn't even feel a thing. You were so high up that the force of you hitting the ground would make it so you would die on impact.

You don't. You don't end up hitting the ground the rough and welcoming grass and dirt of the earth signifying your end. Your freedom, no you find yourself face-first into a ginormous cushion on a flying boat.

Groaning you look around only to find that this is definitely Nikolai's (or Strumhond's) ship. And there were some frazzled-looking Crows coming right towards you.

Fuck. Fucking shit- Nope, nope you were not going to talk about this. No one needed to know! It was only a little high...

You had almost taken your own life.

The facts come full force at you and you have to calm your breathing so you don't have a full-on panic attack.

"Y/n!" Inej comes full force basically flying towards you as she leaps through the air as graceful as a cat and lands right beside you. Suddenly she pulls you into her arms and you have to remind yourself to embrace her because you feel so numb.

"I'm okay." You croak and it comes out a little teary but to everyone else, it had sounded like you were afraid of what might have happened but what you really were afraid of was what did happen.

Inej helps you off the cushion even though you are pretty sure you sustained little to no injuries. That thing was fucking soft.

"Y/n." It comes out shaky and your eyes meet Kaz's and they aren't lined with tears like Inej's but his voice wavers and holds the fear of the man who would do anything not to be scared like that ever again.

He limps over to you both and surprisingly pulls you both into his embrace.

This time you don't feel numb no - you feel fucking guilty.

Finally, all three of you pull away and when you meet Kaz's eyes again you know he knows.

By the Saints, this is just your luck today, isn't it?

"What happened," Kaz says slowly like he's talking to a child.

Okay, and that's why you didn't want to tell anyone because you weren't a child and you weren't making this shit up! He couldn't just undermine you because he thought you need some support 'that way!' That's not what you need!

It's not going to make it any better.

"I fell." You say crossing your arms taking a few steps back from Inej and Kaz.

"Kaz let it go." Inej's voice isn't light it's that commanding tone she uses to the people on her ship. She's never used that tone on us, sure maybe that mother tone but not that tone.

What's happening to us?

Kaz sets his hard gaze on Inej willing her to take a step back but she stands her ground of course she does.

Am I the reason we'll fall apart?

"Really? Is that what really happened?" Kaz utters and he turns his gaze towards you. It's hard and angry and he isn't Kaz Brekker or Kaz Rietveld anymore, he's Dirtyhands. And your just another opposing gang member he's trying to get information out of.

"Yes!" You shrink away from him becoming smaller and smaller till you hit the wall of the ship.

Inej seems to have caught on to what Kaz is assuming and she looks at you in surprise and shock.

"Y/n... No, no you can't have..."

"Why don't I believe you?"

You are pressed up against the wall now with Kaz and Inej in front of you, keeping you in your place so you don't or can't run away.

It was always meant to be Dirtyhands and the Wraith wasn't it? You were a fool for thinking they could ever love you. They would leave you wouldn't they? If you told them the truth.

Everything would be lost.

"I was... I was holding on!" You nearly yell like your trying to convince yourself that you didn't let go of that ship. That you almost won the war within yourself.

"Then I lost my grip on the ledge and I just... I was falling."

It's Inej this time who speaks and she gently places a hand on your shoulder.

"Did you fall or did you let go?"

The question hangs in the air and you see now that they weren't Dirtyhands and the Wraith, no. They were concerned, worried, and afraid they were going to lose you to yourself.

"I let go." You whisper looking down at the floor of the ship not bearing to be able to look them in the eyes.

You shove them out of the way but you couldn't just run away, it was a fucking flying ship for fucks shake! There was no getting away, and you didn't feel like flinging yourself off Nikolai's ship.

So you just stand by the railing as silent tears slowly roll down your face the only thing that recognized your suffering.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see two people come up beside you on each side. You don't say anything you don't even look at them, you just look on at the sunrise and how it's almost forming into a beautiful sunny day.

"I'm sorry." Inej whispers and you hesitantly takes your hand and you can't help but let her.

You look over to Kaz and for once in your life, all his guards are down and you can tell he's also sorry. But you could also tell that he was so, so afraid.

"Please don't leave us."

Its barely said yet you can hear it clear as day and he takes your other hand looking at you with pleading eyes.

Looking over to Inej her eyes held the same beg, the beg of forgiveness, and the beg of safety.

Your beautiful Crows.

"I'll try."

"That's all we ask." Inej states as she and Kaz move closer to you and you all look at the sun. And what's beyond.

Words 1463

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626

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saltwaterconfessions · 4 years ago

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i had a Moment in the tags of an unrelated post and finally clicked things together. i think a reason im so feral for Gideon is because she represents every cool story, every cool male hero, that i've never liked. there are so many stories out there that just do not appeal to me because there are no reflections of Me in them. my dad is a huge sci-fi fan and im just kinda meh about it. bc in the classics, what is there for me? a pretty woman who dies? a pretty woman to be saved? a less interesting side piece with a very specific purpose who's discarded when she's no longer useful? where am i, in those stories? i can appreciate the storytelling and what it means to others but yeah im just not into it. (i am speaking for myself lmfao of course there are awesome series out there i have yet to encounter.)

but GIDEON. Gideon Nav my mcfucking beloved. she's a loudmouth. she's kinda annoying! she takes every joy she can find in both hands, she's brave and good-hearted and and rebellious but devoted and so desperate to make something out of her life. she's super gay and super butch and these are all important things about her! she's all of these things and a fucking demigod. she's a hero. she's entirely herself and refuses to be anything less. sometimes i get so overwhelmed thinking about it. i teared up writing this!!

and then Harrow, my lil gnc sad rat girl. she's an absolute genius with an ego about it. she's a huge bitch. she's wildly tenacious. she's got an awfully soft tendency towards being a hero and a sense of responsibility that could only come from a place of care. she's neurodivergent af and also super gay! and harrow the ninth dives into her trauma and illness without flinching.

this isn't to discount the cast at large either. they're all brilliant and interesting and so cool! also super queer in their ways! there are so many women in so many different forms of womanhood that it's no longer important to note that. but Gideon and Harrow are the protagonists when I'm usually scooping up irrelevant side characters out of narratives and giving them backstories and molding something new out of canon.

that type of making meaning is really special to me, but. having whole protagonists like Gideon and Harrow is just. oh this is for me! this was made by a person like me, for people like me! and those types of stories are so fucking special. tamsyn muir said angry girls this is for you and i said thank you ma'am 😭

#my takes #some Thots about my brainrot for gideon and harrow 😌#the locked tomb #im gay and nb and angry and have a lot of trouble interacting w a world not built for me and i just. feel really seen by this narrative and #its fandom too

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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I'll See You Again, I Promise [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 FINALE. DISCRETION ADVISED. !!

Author's note: Spoilers for the Season 2 finale of the Mandalorian. Just like last time, I wrote this in three hours. The episode literally came out three hours ago. I'm so thankful for how many people liked my one shot based around last week's episode— and as promised, this is a continuation of this week's episode (the season finale). You don't have to read the previous part in order to understand this, but if you wish to read it you can find it here.

Masterlist

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

Taglist for this part: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @dantakuart @yikesdameron @artsyzartsi @karnita-mexicana @multifandomfollower @saavikchekov @what-is-life-in-general @karnita-mexicana @pcrushinnerd @tillytheslytherin @jedinerd27 @queenofspades20

Din Djarin taglist: @alecdamndario0

gif by @cavill-henry

When you saw Din return, holding the child in one hand, and the ancient Mandalorian weapon in the other hand, relief washed over you. Your whole body deflated and you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Where are the others?" Din asked, his voice gruff as he pushed a binded Moff Gideon to the ground. You gasped when your eyes met with the ex-ISB officer who you knew had given Din so much trauma and hurt. There was a dark and menacing glint in his eyes that you could see right through.

"With Boba on the ship. They didn't think you'd come back," you admitted sheepishly, biting your lip as you cautiously looked back up at Din. "But I believed in you." You desperately tried to search through his visor and locate his brown eyes.

You wanted to cry; your little family had been restored. Grogu had been rescued. You were once more a clan of three. And now, things could be different. You had seen the beauty that was hidden beneath the beskar. You had seen Din for who he really was. You imagined starting a new life with him and the Child, far far away and out of any danger. You could be happy. Of course, you had to deal with Moff Gideon first.

You took a step closer to Din, breaking any remaining distance and placing a hand on his chest. "I'm so glad you're safe." Din revealed with a shaky exhale as you caressed the child. You wanted nothing more than to curl up into his arms and tell him how much you loved him, how proud you were. Grogu was so lucky to have a father as loving as Din.

"We can leave now," you smiled weakly. "We can be free. Go to the lake county on Naboo and start a new life. Live in peace." You had half forgotten Moff Gideon was even there. You just wanted to live in the moment with Din. All you could see was the love of your life holding his child. Everything else in your peripheral vision was a blur. It didn't matter.

"How cute," Moff Gideon's lips curled into a snarl. "The Mandalorian has a lover? What an unexpected twist of events." Din knocked Gideon to the ground the second those malicious words left his mouth, leaving him doubled over and grumbling in pain.

"We don't have time to stick around, we have to go." Din told you, grabbing your hand and interlocking his gloved fingers with yours. You were ready. You were so ready to leave this life behind and be with Din and Grogu forever. It was the happily ever after you knew Din deserved more than anyone else in the galaxy. Before the blast doors could open, the nav system began to beep hysterically, illustrating that a single light Starfighter was boarding the same Imperial cruiser you and your little family were on.

"It's an X-Wing…" you were rendered speechless. Din considered who it might have been. Had Cara comm’d the New Republic from the ship? If so, why was it only just one fighter? Could it have been the likes of Trapper Wolf who had granted Din a favour back when he encountered trouble on the ice planet of Maldo Kreis? Din was truly clueless.

Grogu began to coo and shuffle around, prompting Din to carefully place his son on the floor. Grogu waddled over to you by the terminal, gargling and pointing his finger up at one of the screens. "What is it buddy?" you asked, leaning down and picking up Grogu. Grogu guided you to the CCTV where you saw a cloaked figure emerge from the X-Wing and ignite a lightsaber. Your heart stopped. "Din…" you said nervously, your grip tightening around Grogu defensively. "You might want to see this."

Din approached the small screen and looked closely. "A Jedi?" he asked, although it almost sounded rhetorical. He looked back at Grogu who was already staring up at him. "Did you… did you bring him here?" Din asked the child, his voice breaking slightly. Grogu made a small and indistinguishable noise in response.

"No," you placed a hand on Din's shoulder with comfort. "No, Grogu wouldn't…" you reassured him.

"The seeing stone," Din deadpanned, his gaze not tearing from his son once. He remembered Ahsoka Tano's words. "Grogu reached out with the force and if a Jedi felt his presence, they'd come looking for him," Din turned to you, his body stiff and his voice shallow. "And they've come."

Your lips parted slightly as you turned back to the screen, watching as the mysterious figure roamed through the halls of the Imperial cruiser. Part of you deep down knew that Din was right. It was the only plausable explanation, but that didn't mean you wanted it to happen. You knew it wouldn't be long until you were found.

"Din, let's go," you said with teary eyes, feeling your anxiety bubble up in your stomach. "Please Din? Can we just go."

Din clenched his fingers into a fist. "No." he said sternly, his voice returning back to being gruff and modulated. He was doing what he always did when fear consumed him. He'd shut himself out and go into hunter/protector mode. He'd become the fighter he was trained to be since he was just a young boy.

"Din." you hated the way his name fell from your tongue, sounding needy and desperate, but you were just as afraid. You didn't want to stay any longer. You had what you needed; Din and the child. You didn't need anything else. You could go now.

Din picked up Grogu and nursed him in his arms, holding him close to his chest. Just like always, Grogu curled up into his father, taking comfort in feeling his beating heart, learning the true feeling of unconditional familial love.

The blast doors shot open and the cloaked figure entered the room. Your fingers dropped to the blaster in your holster as he approached you both. The man put his lightsaber away, signifying surrender, and pulled down his hood, revealing himself. He looked slightly older than you, with pale skin with mousy brown hair. He looked like he had seen a lot in his lifetime.

"Are you a Jedi?" Din asked eventually, breaking the silence through the need of confirmation.

"Yes, my name is Luke Skywalker," he introduced with a small nod. You recognised that name… Skywalker, perhaps from old tales, the likes of myths and folk stories. You didn't spend long contemplating the mystery man's identity. There were more pressing matters at hand and so you opted to brush it off completely. "I have come for the child," Luke announced and Grogu turned from Din, his ears cocking at the mention of him and looked at the man with curiosity. "Hello little one." Luke smiled.

Grogu cooed in response before turning back to his father with big pleading eyes. "He doesn't want to go with you." Din gulped, his heart aching. There was no way to be sure, Din could never know exactly what Grogu wanted. But he was aware of the bond he had with his son, now more than ever he was aware. He knew that there was no way his son would want to leave him. Din loved Grogu. Din loved Grogu with every inch of his being.

"He wants your permission." Luke explained, and Din turned back to look at the little green bean in his arms. His… permission? "He is incredibly strong with the force and without learning how to utiIize his powers he can become a danger to those around him… and a danger to himself. It's important that he understands the nature of the power he possesses."

Luke's words became a blundered fuzz in the back of your mind. This was Grogu— this was Din's little boy. When Din looked into Grogu's eyes, he saw nothing but memories. From the pair of them sipping spotchka, to chasing frogs and playing in the hull of the Razor Crest, everything just felt so distant. Din took a deep breath, his finger softly brushing against Grogu's cheek.

"Hey go on… he's one of your kind," Din winced at his own words. One of your kind— something the Armourer had implanted in Din's head all those months ago. "I'll see you again. I promise."

You felt your heart shatter in your chest. This… wasn't meant to happen. It wasn't meant to end up like this. You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something and put a stop to this absurdity. You knew better than anyone that Din needed Grogu and Grogu needed Din. It felt like your throat had closed up, like you could hardly breathe. All you could do was stand there and watch it play out.

Grogu reached up with a small wail, his green claw tracing the curves and ridges of Din's beskar helmet.

Din knew exactly what his son wanted, and right now, Din was certain he wanted it too. Just for once, he wanted to look at his son with his own eyes. Not the eyes blinded by his visor blade, Din wanted the child to know his face. Recognise him. With a hiss and a click, Din removed his helmet. You swore your heart stopped upon seeing him again. Brown eyes, but this time they were glazed with tears and there was nothing you could do about it.

Grogu reached back up and rested his claw over Din's jaw. Subconsciously, Din leaned his cheek into Grogu's hand, never wanting to pull away from his touch. His heart was broken beyond repair.

"All right pal," Din rasped. "It's time to go." He didn't want this. He couldn't do this. But he had to. He had to be strong for his son. He had to be a good father. "Don't be afraid." Was Din's final words to his son.

He placed Grogu down carefully and nodded towards Luke, accepting his fate. Grogu clutched onto Din's leg, not wanting to let go. His little mind was racing with wonder— why can't his daddy come with him? Why must he go alone? The erratic beeps of a white and blue astromech droid were what eventually tore the curious child from his father. Grogu waddled towards the droid and Luke picked him up.

No matter how hard he tried, Din couldn't seem to swallow the lump in his throat. Everything Din had done so far had led up to the moment, and he wanted to curse himself for letting it affect him this much. He should've been prepared. It's just, he really didn't think this would happen. He really didn't think Grogu would want to leave.

He didn't blame the child of course. He could never blame the child. He just wished he understood. Just before the doors to the elevator closed, Luke spoke up. Unfazed, unbroken. "May the force be with you." he wished. Din ignored the comment. It meant nothing to him. Nothing meant anything anymore. No meaning, no purpose. Luke tapped the key that would shut the doors and Din offered his son once last nod, trying his hardest to break out an impossible smile. When the doors finally closed, Din let out a choked sob and fell to his knees.

You sprinted over to Din, kneeling down and pulling him into you. He cried, hot salty tears falling from his brown eyes and dripping down his face. You pulled his head into your lap and smoothed out his hair trying your hardest to lull him. But you couldn't. You couldn't even bring yourself to comfort him. Your shoulders curled in and you fell limp, whimpering into his hair. You felt completely broken. Grogu was like a son to you, and you cherished him so very much. You couldn't even imagine how Din was feeling.

His little family was no more but he knew that Grogu was going to go on to do bigger and better things. No matter what, Grogu was going to make Din proud.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #grogu

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years ago

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Resol’nare - Part Ten

A/N: Well what do you know? This story ain’t dead after all! I AM SO SORRY to anybody who has been patiently waiting for this story to update. I had an absolute temper tantrum meltdown breakdown identity crisis with a heaping dollop of doubt to sift through before I felt comfortable bringing this sucker back, and while this chapter is largely filler, I am re-invigorated with my drive to finish this beast and the next chapter is a whole entire doozy. Without further ado, welcome back, Din and Nav!

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: Having just barely escaped an assassination attempt with their lives, Din and Navina agree to help each other untangle all of the knotted threads that they have run into. But Navina may have ended up with a little more than she bargained for when she kicked the conversation off by asking him about the Darksaber. With her history of searching for it so that it could be destroyed and his current role as Mand’alor, will they be able to get past their differences?

Warning: mentions of violence, trauma, death

Word Count: 4.9k

Nevarro.

“Are you in possession of the Darksaber?”

Navina’s question hung in the air of the cockpit, the lingering vibrations of her words still audibly humming around them even though several beats had gone by without an answer from the Mandalorian.

I shouldn’t have led with that.

Gunning straight for the Darksaber was a bold move and one that had clearly shocked him. Being encased in beskar made it difficult for her to interpret his body language but not impossible, and the abrupt swivel of his helmet to bring the darkened visor in line with her eyes as she asked the question told her everything that she needed to know. He has it. Or he knows where it is but it… he wasn’t expecting me to ask that.

Though she didn’t know him well, she knew him well enough to assume that not many things caught him off guard. He had just demonstrated that with how quickly and instinctively he moved to get her to safety under fire, and she’d seen it in the way that he fought the reptavians the last time they were on Nevarro. But since this was a conversation and not something that he could shoot his way out of, a situation where he couldn’t just rely on reaction or muscle memory, it caused him to freeze up and for a few seconds Navina wondered if he wasn’t considering trying a blaster anyway.

Wouldn’t be the first time my conversational skills got me shot at, but…

But he hadn’t reached for his weapon. He hadn’t clapped her in binders or told her to get off of his ship, hadn’t left her stranded in the middle of nowhere out in the lava flats. Perhaps most importantly though, he hadn’t outright refused to answer. Navina’s eyes drifted to the sculpted signet on his shoulder, the vacant eye of the Mudhorn skull staring back at her as she waited for him to break the silence. She recalled what Firo’s mother had told her about what she’d seen and heard; about the two Mandalorians in Diadem Square and the words she had heard them say. Aliit. Mudhorn. Mand’alor.

He has it. He has it, he’s just not sure what to tell me because he-

“Are you planning to challenge me for it?” He tilted his head down slightly, the angle suggesting that he was glancing at the same spot on his pauldron that she was.

What? She snapped her head up to find his eyeline already waiting, the darkened visor boring into her as her heart pounded in her chest. Challenge him? That would be crazy… and he knows that. Swallowing, she slowly shook her head, her long, thick braid tugging heavily at her nape as it swung like a rope. “You didn’t answer my question.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest and shifted in his seat. “Neither did you,” he pointed out.

Navina let out a breath in a short burst. “No.” Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips as she narrowed her eyes. “No, Mando, I’m not planning to…I don’t want it.” I want to get rid of it.

“But you know what it is. You know what it… means.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded in answer anyway. I sure do. “Then why should I believe that you wouldn’t want it for yourself?”

She winced, though she knew why he had to ask. Because everyone else who has looked for it has wanted it for its power. Wanted to use it. The thought of owning the Darksaber, of wrapping her hand around its hilt and igniting the fabled crackling, black blade made her stomach turn. Before she could stop it, the image of her mother’s empty helmet skipping over the cave floor like a smooth stone over water, the visor cracked and the bottom edge smeared with blood, flashed in her mind. If it weren’t for that thing I might still… my family might- Stop.

Swallowing the emotions that had started to build up in her throat, she leaned forward to brace her forearms on her knees, hands gripping her opposite elbows. “I guess you don’t have to believe me.” She shrugged, eyes landing again on the Mudhorn on his shoulder. “But I-

“You keep looking at this.” He cut her off, lifting the arm bearing his signet. “So I think you know the answer to your question.” Straightening, Navina sat back in the bucket seat she occupied, her attention back on the man’s dark visor, on the hard lines and sleek angles of the helmet obscuring his face. “But what I want to know is how you found out. You aren’t Imperial.” He spat the word in such a way that made her thankful that he at least seemed to believe that she wasn’t working for some remnant of the Empire. “You’re not a Jedi.” She scoffed and he continued with a slight shake of his head. “You aren’t...haven’t sworn the creed.” Navina winced again. Not Mandalorian. That’s what he was going to say, and he’s...right. “So how do you know about the Darksaber?”

By then, she had lost track of how many questions had been asked and left unanswered by both of them. This is...we’re not getting anywhere like this. Gritting her teeth, she took a second to let out a controlled breath. But if he wants a holochess match, I’ll give him one. “Not a lot of people speak Mando’a anymore, do they?”

The lights of the cockpit’s dashboard bounced off of the beskar as he shook his head, the leather of his gloves groaning as he clenched his hands into aggravated fists. “What does that have to do with-”

“There were two Mandalorians seen on Corellia recently.” Navina chose her words carefully as he fell silent again. “They were wearing cloaks over their armor and whispering about you, Mando.” She stuck her chin out towards him as she stood and turned to lean against the wall panel. “Didn’t catch every word” I didn’t but they were definitely speaking the Concordian dialect…they mentioned the Darksaber. Called you the Mand’alor… they talked about your signet, your clan… your aliit.”

In the same way that the memory of her mother’s helmet had torn through her mind, she felt another flash cut through her thoughts as she spoke the Mando’a word for family. This one was different though, bringing with it the sound of her father’s booming laugh, her mother’s clear voice as she sang to the little one, his eyes wide as he happily clapped along. It brought a warmth that almost filled her chest, sloshing up the sides and swirling once around her heart to remind her that she still knew what it felt like before it drained back into the icy bittersweet depths of her past. It reminded her of the devotion and the love she would always have for her family, no matter where they were now, and it was the one word that she knew would get his attention, make him listen and believe what she was saying.

Because if he has a family… this is where he’ll make his move.

He proved her theory right instantly, the man rising quickly to his feet to pace the small space. “The kid?”

Kid? Navina felt her own eyes grow in surprise. Finding out that the Mandalorian had a child was the furthest thing from her mind when she dangled the word aliit. A riduur, maybe, or else just other loyal sworn clan members, but a child? And he said ‘the kid’ not ‘my kid’... She tried to drown out the sound of her heartbeat as it thundered in her ears. Does that mean… a foundling?

Sucking in a breath, she was hit with another memory, this one slicing deep enough that she could feel the old scar across her back, searing in pain like it had when she received the wound that left it. “Protect him, Ina! Keep him safe!” The task her father charged her with as he and her mother sprung into action to fend off the attackers echoed in her skull. There was the clash of weapons against beskar, the scrape of blades against stone, and her own blood rushing in her ears as she saw a blaster raised and pointed at the place where the foundling sat crouching behind a boulder. No! Without a second thought she flung herself through the air, wrapping her arms around the smaller child’s tiny body, crying out as heat streaked over her shoulder blades.

If they know he has a kid they might be… She shuddered, recalling not just the pain but the absolute terror she felt as she cradled the small bundle to her chest in the memory. They might try to go after his kid to get to him. Like they did with my parents.

After all, it had been other Mandalorians who had attacked them on Yavin, other Mandalorians who had killed her mother. If they were looking to strike at a weakness, other Mandalorians would know how to find one.

“No.” It came out blunt and firm, breaking her from her thoughts. “Naasade kar’tayl. No one knows where to find him.” What? Find him? What does that mean? “I... made sure that I was the only one who knew how to-” Swiveling his head, he seemed to make another connection then, reaching for Navina’s left bicep and making a tight grip. “You said these Mandalorians were on Corellia?” She nodded, his fingers only digging deeper into her arm. “Where?”

Clearing her throat, Navina brought her right hand up across her body to place it over his, her palm making contact with the cool metal of the raised triangle adorning his gauntlet in an attempt to make him loosen his hold on her. “Coronet City,” she answered, eyes flicking from his visor down to her arm where their hands were stacked. He picked up the cue, releasing her but not stepping away, staying close enough to her that she felt his sleeve brush the exposed skin above her elbow as they both dropped their arms. “Why? What does-”

The Mandalorian leaned forward then, placing his hands on the edge of the dashboard to look out the windshield at the crater where her ship once stood, at the smoldering remains of the vessel that had tracked and attacked her. “The bounty hunters that followed you here...” His shoulders lifted and sagged as he took a breath, the curve of his helmet lowering with the slight dip of his head as he spoke, almost as though he felt guilty for something. “They were hired in Coronet City.”

Oh. That’s… a new development. “So, what? You think,” Navina turned to line her vantage point up with his, joining him in surveying the scene. Dark plumes of thick smoke still rose from the burnt, melted bits of metal littering the cracked ground. An eerie shiver went up her spine, climbing one vertebrae at a time until it reached her brain. “You think that the same people are after both of us?” But that’s...that doesn’t make any sense. Unless-

“I think there’s a chance that they…” He muttered a swear low under his breath, Navina only able to make out the derogatory intonation of his voice and not the word itself. “That they might have targeted you because of me.”

Ruusaanyc. Trust him. Tell him what you know.

They were her own thoughts, but they felt foriegn. Her inner monologue almost never came to her in Mando’a, and trust was a rarely used word in her vocabulary no matter the language. Where did that come from? Without realizing she had pulled it out from under her shawl, Navina looked down to see that she was clutching her pendant, the thing emitting a faint violet glow through her fingers as though it was trying to will her to share what she knew with the Mandalorian.

Ruusaanyc.

Huffing out a sigh, she let the Mythosaur fall against her chest and shook her head. Here goes everything. “I don’t know about that, Mando… I think…” It was her turn to mumble a swear into her shoulder as he turned away from the windshield to face her. Now or never. “I think I know who it was and… and I think they’ve been after me for a long time.”

“What does that mean?” Some of the edge was back in his voice and she could tell that he was done with the volley of questions, done with trying to interpret her answers or encode his own. It was a small relief, if she was being honest, to drop the pretense and just lay it bare. This is the Way, right? “Who do you think it was, and why would they want you dead?”

Our enemies think we are enemies.

She heard the deep, smooth voice of the stranger from her dream; the man in the brown robes who her family encountered as they fled from Concordia, the mysterious wielder of that purple blade, the figure who had entrusted them with the care of the foundling and then held off their pursuers as they made their escape from the very group of Mandalorians that they had previously supported.

Death Watch.

No. The people who attacked us, who hunted us, they weren’t… they became something else.

Her parents had been members of Death Watch, her mother raised as a foundling after being taken in by one of their warriors, and her father born on Mandalore into one of the oldest clans that never bowed to the pacifists. They believed in a return to the ancient Way, adhering strictly to the most literal interpretations of the tenets of Mandalorian life. They believed in protecting their clan and their tribe above all else. Even if it meant defecting from the ranks. They believed in preserving their traditions and their history. Even if it meant teaching it in caves. They believed in supporting Mandalore. Even if it meant rebelling against the Mand’alor.

At some point in their exile to Concordia, Death Watch had become an incubator for corruption and hate. At some point, the focus had shifted from reclaiming their home planet from the Pacifists and the Republic to attaining a mythic weapon and the power that came with it- even if it meant forming some highly questionable alliances. And at some point, even that had not been enough. Not for her.

Navina blinked, suddenly aware that too much time had elapsed without a response. Say something. Tell him something… Trust him. Swallowing, she brought one hand up to her forehead, raking it back over her hair. Her palm came away smudged in black soot from the earlier explosion, and she stared at the way the lines and cracks of her hand looked caked in sweat and smoke. “There was a… a rift in the Tribe my family belonged to,” she began, taking a breath and lifting her eyes to find him watching her, standing stock still and silent as space with his arms at his sides.

“A rift?” The jerk of his helmet served to punctuate his question. Be more specific, he’s not going to be patient forever, he’s- “A splinter sect?”

She raised one eyebrow, mouth falling open for a second. He knows about Death Watch then. He knows that it… how it went. Outside of the Mandalorian’s ship, night was beginning to fall on Nevarro. The typically vibrant red of the setting sun was tempered by the smoke in the air to create a darker, subtle maroon hue. On a normal night, it wouldn’t be long before the sky was pierced by millions of stars, signaling that it was time for sleep. But despite how utterly exhausted she was from the events of the day, Navina felt adrenaline pulsing through her body with each beat of her heart. “Y-yes,” she finally managed to sputter out. “They were a part of-”

“Of Death Watch,” he finished with her, his modulated voice completely eclipsing hers and increasing her heart rate by double as she bobbed her head in a nod. “My original covert,” he sighed and she noticed him opening and closing his hands, tipping his head down to look at the backs of them as he spread his fingers wide. “My Tribe? We were known as… as the Children of the Watch.”

The entire galaxy stood still, all sound vanished as he spoke. The Children of the Watch. That’s…

“That’s...my parents, that’s the…” She was vaguely aware that she was speaking, but seemed unable to arrange her words into anything resembling coherency, her chest starting to heave slightly from shock. “That’s the name of the covert my parents were… that they wanted to find...to join.”

“They’re the good guys, Ina’ika.” Her father had promised her as he soothed her in the aftermath of the attack, her mother’s callused hands rubbing an herbal salve over the wound on her back while the little one slept off the terrifying encounter. “The good guys that we can trust.” He took both of her small hands in one of his, closing it around them. “Do you remember how to say it in Mando’a, ad’ika?”

She’d sniffed, no tears in her eyes as she nodded and answered her buir. “Ruusaanyc.”

Her eyes snapped shut then, the corners stinging sharply. She hadn’t cried at eleven years old, and she refused to do so now. Not in front of him. Not… not now.

“Your family wanted to… to join my tribe?” He paced as he asked, seemingly as shocked as she was by the connection that they almost shared. “And they were… you were attacked because of that?”

Navina opened her eyes to see the swish of his cape as he turned to face her. Sort of. “Not because of...of which covert they wanted to join. It was more because they left in the first place… it was-” Tell him.

“Navina?” He closed the distance between them, stepping close to her again like he had when he grasped her arm, though this time he wasn’t as forceful. “Why was your family attacked? What… made them leave?”

A dry laugh completely devoid of humor tumbled from her lips. “It’s obvious, isn’t it, Mando?” She combed some of the soot caked strands of her hair back with both sets of fingers as she spun and returned to her seat. “The Darksaber. The leaders of Death Watch… they gave in to its power. Used it to... “ She had to stuff down the stories that her parents had told her about the “leaders”, the demagolka, the real life monsters that they’d almost followed into the pits of corruption- Gar Saxon. Rook Kast. Maul. Bo-Katan Kryze. Instead of naming them, she shook her head. “My parents didn’t want that. They didn’t want Mandalore to fall under the control of… of people who defiled the title of Mand’alor.”

“Your parents were zealots.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it an accusation even if it was abrupt. “We...the Children of the Watch, other Mandalorians have referred to my covert that way, too.”

She let out another scoff. “It was a little different for them, I think.” That was putting it mildly and she knew it. “They… they believed that the Darksaber had to be destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” He echoed. “I don’t understand. Why would it need to be destroyed? Couldn’t they just challenge whoever had it last?”

He doesn’t see. “They didn’t want it any more than I do. They…” Her forehead furrowed and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, darting back into her mouth tasting of the ashy white residue still stuck to her skin. “Mando, do you really know what it is? What that weapon- how it works? How it...behaves?”

“Behaves?” His head moved backwards, nearly hitting the rear of his helmet against the wall. “It’s a weapon. It doesn’t behave, you learn to use it.”

Though she had never seen it ignited in person, she pictured the unstable, broken currents of energy that her mother had described to her, imagined the harsh sound of it spitting and snapping at itself and anything it touched. Comparing it to the smooth beam of consistent, controlled purple light of the saber that the nameless man that had bestowed the foundling upon her family used, it was clear to her that the Darksaber was a cursed iteration of what it was originally intended to be.

When she spoke again her voice was low and small, barely making it out of her throat. “If you’ve ever used it then you know that’s not true.” She moved her head from side to side, eyes stuck on the blackened T of his visor. “You know that’s not what you really believe.”

“It’s...powerful,” he admitted. “I don’t… I’m not quite sure that I know how to wield it yet, but it… it’s just a weapon, and it-”

“It was never made to have so many masters.” She’d heard it so many times she hardly noticed it slipping out of her mouth.

“What?” Yeah, I get it, it sounds ridiculous, but… She narrowed her eyes. But he wants to believe me, doesn’t he?

Navina gave him a half shrug. “It was something my mother would say. She said that it was never meant to… bond with so many souls. That it was never meant to be a symbol, that it was only ever meant to serve its maker.”

“Bond with people’s souls…” He shifted to the edge of his chair. “Like the Force? The...the Jedi?”

“I don’t know, Mando. Maybe? I-” she let out a heavy sigh to empty the buildup of tension and frustration in her chest. “I’m not an expert, I… I didn’t get to learn everything that she had to teach me.” It came out with a tinge of venom that he didn’t deserve and she immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, that-”

“It’s fine,” he said, letting out a sigh of his own, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same way; Short changed on knowledge, clinging only to the scraps of what he had been taught and completely clueless about the rest. It’s not fine. Not for either of us. “It’s… there’s still a lot that I need to learn. Things that I don’t really understand but that I… need to.” She thought he was done speaking, a full twenty count going by with nothing but the hum of the air filters and the consistent flash of the starter, alerting the pilot that the ship was fully fueled and ready for takeoff at a moment’s notice, when he finally spoke again. “I didn’t want it, either.”

Something in the depth of his voice made her heart ache for the man. He’s not like the ones who held it before him. He’s not… I believe him. “But you have it now.”

“I… I do. But it was never what I… all I wanted to do was protect my- the kid.”

I believe that, too. If the way that he had put himself in harm’s way to keep her safe was any indication of how far he’d go to protect his own family, she knew that if nothing else, she could believe him on this. But something that he had said earlier circled back to the forefront of her brain, and though she still didn’t doubt him, she needed to ask. “Mando? Where is your… you said he was safe, and that only you could…” He turned quickly in her direction, the motion coming off defensive. No, not because I want you to tell me. She held up her hands then, smudged palms facing him. “I’m only asking because I don’t want anything to…” This isn’t coming out how I… “Mando, I’m only asking, because if the same people who attacked my family are the ones that were looking for you, too… if it's them? Their clan or...or cult? They’ll look for any way to get to you. So if they know about your...son? They came after me when I was a child, held a blaster on the foundling we were caring for and… I don’t want that to happen to you.” Or your aliit.

Her explanation seemed to satisfy him, his hands relaxing against his thighs. “Your family cared for a foundling.” Again it was a non-question, but again she nodded. “Then you know that according to the Creed, if you are able to...reunite them with their kind then that’s what you are obligated to do.” The strange ache she felt for him deepened as she came to the conclusion before he said it out loud. Oh. She noticed his right hand hovering over one of the pouches of his belt, almost as though he were going to open it, take something out. He didn’t though, returning his hand to his lap and telling her what she had already guessed. “I did that. I… he’s with his kind now and they’ll… he’s safe there. No one but me knows how to get in contact with his… the person taking care of him now.”

“You’re still his buir, Mando. Still his family.” Big round eyes and pudgy green cheeks flashed in her mind. You’re still my family, too, ad’ika. “You always will be.” It was odd, comforting him this way. He was a stranger, but he wasn’t. His story was different, but familiar. In another life we could have grown up together.

He must have found it odd, too, though if he did he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he wasn’t also thrown by the way that their lives were both parallel and in opposition of one another’s. “Thank you,” he eventually said, and she saw his chest rise and fall with another sigh. “For everything that you told me. I… have a lot to think about.”

“I...you’re welcome, Mando, I… I want to help you, if you’ll let me, I… maybe we can help each other. At least until this threat is… handled. And then…” Then I’ll disappear, let you lead your people however you… however you think is best.

“I’d...like that. I want to be able to think of you as an… an ally.” Navina dug deep and found a smile to offer him then. An ally. Alright. “But I… I still can’t… don’t feel comfortable bringing you back to the new covert location. Not because I don’t trust you, I… I need to find the people who did this. Who are doing this, and I can’t have them follow me back to where the rest of the Mandalorians are because they’re following you.”

He didn’t mean it to be hurtful, just tactical, and even though she was used to feeling the leaden weight of clanlessness in her heart, hearing him say it felt like he had hefted more weight into it. “It’s fine, Mando. I’m… I can find a place or I can go back to-”

“No.” He cut her off and reached one hand out, placing it lightly on her shoulder, the cup of his palm covering the whole cap of her sleeve, thumb ranging towards her collarbone. Though it was a completely innocent touch, it immediately acted as a ballast for the weight of his previous words.”I do need to go… to get back there right away to… to check on things and discuss all of this with some of the others but I’m not just going to leave you unprotected either. Not until all of this is… done.”

He wants to protect me? But… why?

Ruusaanyc. Trust him.

From her peripherals she could tell that the stone in the center of her pendant was shimmering again. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

He shocked her when he pressed his thumb and then the rest of his fingers gently into her flesh, just enough to dimple the fabric of her shirt. “Yes, I do. I am the Mand’alor, and it’s my responsibility to… to make sure that no one in my own covert is a part of this. And to… to keep all Mandalorians safe.”

But I’m not… It occurred to her suddenly that maybe, to him, she was.

This is the Way.

“Alright.” She nodded, focusing on keeping her throat from choking around her words as she spoke them. “Then where will I… I don’t know anyone here, on Nevarro. Firo isn’t anywhere close, so I-”

“I have an idea,” he tilted his head and from the angle alone she could tell that it wasn’t going to be her first choice. “Remember my friend, Marshal Dune?”

The smirking face of the woman who had originally identified Navina as a thief and an imposter came to mind and she groaned. “I do... she didn't like me very much if you recall though, so I'm not too sure she's going to be thrilled about this.” I'm not thrilled about it but... he's got a point. I'll put his whole Tribe at risk if I go with him right now.

He actually laughed, another shock from the man encased in thick beskar. “Cara's not as tough as she wants you to think she is. She's... she's a good friend. She'll give you a place to stay and make sure you're... safe.”

There were about a million retorts she would have lobbed if it were anyone but him. I can keep myself safe. She's not a better fighter than me. I don't need a kriffing babysitter. But instead she bit the inside of her lip and slapped the smile she'd just pulled out back on. “Alright, Mando... call the Marshal.”

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