#but is also the flower of gladiators

[redxluna]

Keep coming up with fic concepts tonight, so, now I’m stuck on the whole exchange from the last episode of 

“Orym druidcrafts a flower and hands it to you.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Like, Orym’s trying to shyly do courtship by leaving flowers at the doorstep of a very confused Ashton until someone starts rambling off the meanings of flowers to them and they get more confused.

(I just really want an exchange like

"Have you even talked to them yet?”

“Well, no, I haven’t. But I did leave him a potted gladiolus!”

“Oh. Oh, Orym, buddy...”)

#ashrym #might become a modern au because i'm a sucker for them #but just ashton compulsively reading up on how to take care of all these plants #because they might not know where these came from but they'll be damned if they die on their watch #for the record too #gladiolus is for strength of character #but is also the flower of gladiators

[motts-fruit-punch]

🌼 with mapicc perhaps?

“the overall meaning of gladiolus, regardless of its color, is strength”

#THIS TOOK ME SO MUCH LONGER THEN IT SHOULD HAVE #mostly because flower symbolism tends to boil down to the same five things and i was looking for none of them #any gladioluses are pretty flowers. theyre also associated with gladiators so win win #i think hed keep them as like a good luck charm or something #omg she draws #mapicc #ask game:)

[hell-chronicles]

Tiamat and GC Fans how is it like to win?

#romance club #gladiator chronicles #the flower from tiamat's fire #so happy for gc #and while tiamat was not a favourite of mine last update was pretty good and it could do a lot with a third season #but also just in general happy for all the people who like these books

[catilinas]

Kathryn Tempest, Brutus: The Noble Conspirator

tfw there was a dream that was rome………… you could only whisper it…… anything more than a whisper and it would vanish………… it was so fragile…………

#anyway read roman republics by harriet flower. and also watch gladiator #beeps

[gryphonablaze]

my favorites dps in genshin are aloy, kuki, qiqi, sayu and jean <3

#aka all my dps are repurposed healers #except for aloy lmao #I have like two and a half suuuuper built gladiator sets and I just shuffle the pieces around between the last three #depending on which team I'm using lmao #sayu usually gets all the em things. sometimes I switch it out with the phys damage goblet #but If Im using jean she ALWays gets the phys damage goblet #because kuki has an electro damage goblet just for herself #there's also a healing bonus hat and an EM hat and a crit rate hat #that any of the three of them get any of those depending on what stupid meta I wanna run around with today #then there are two really good flowers and two really good feathers that the three of them all share #yeah so long story short I play genshin like I play most other games #I play healers and then I also dps with them #oh，the number of widowmakers I've killed as mercy.... #oh and qiqi's setup is totally static. sacrificial sword and full five star sea foam set #her normal and charged attack damage is lowkey shit but it's more than made up for by the fact that the sea foam set's damage counts overflo #w healing and that her skill attack heals affect the entire party. now I'm f2p so anything in the five figures of damage is a big deal for m #and I get five figures of damage almost every time with the bubble #that's 20，000 damage per three seconds #but I usually only use her as a backup damage dealer if the rest of the party is low on health and all

[frogchiro]

Omg the gladiator ghost got me thinking about him winning a fight and cutting off his opponent’s head and holding it out towards reader’s direction BUT LIKE in a “cat bringing its human prey as a gift” kind of way” to show off his prowess and not intending this gesture to be threatening 😭 and bbygirl ghost not realizing he might be spooking reader a bit !

Just him starting to show off hoping reader will see him at the coliseum got me acting unwise 😭

He definitely would pull this! Gladiator Ghost is a formidable and fearsome warrior who doesn't fear anything and the moment he notices his favorite little lady sitting in one one of the boxes reserved for nobility in the coliseum like the perfect flower she is, he immediately gets the urge to show off as much as he can, his prowess and how strong and powerful he is!

You always flush and wave your embroidered fan a little faster, to the great amusement of other young ladies, when you see the gladiator's broad and bulky body glistening with sweat and you swear to the gods above that you always catch Ghost looking at you through the opening in his helmet.

One such instance was memorable in particular when Ghost got a little 'too much' into the fight, not to mention he was horny and frustrated because he couldn't get the image of you soft, plump body out of his mind but due to privacy reasons (or rather lack of it) he couldn't exactly jerk off in the barracks so now he was hormonal and pent up :(( The one good thing was that you were sitting perfectly poised next to your lady and watched attentively as he fought twice as hard for you to see but on the other hand it meant he also got more erratic and brutal, his primal instincts telling him to show off his prowess in battle and strength, to show that he'd be the perfect material for a partner and fathering your offspring-that got him a little too heated and before he and everyone else knew it, he sliced his opponent's head clean off and Ghost was grabbing it and marching towards the box where you sat to show it off :((

What he didn't expect and didn't intend at all was for you to get quite a bit frightened at the brutal and bloody display, and as much as the sight of Ghost covered in sweat and blood was appealing, the severed off head was not and now the gladiator was angryat himself that he upset you :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #gladiator au #gladiator!ghost #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

[letmeinimafairy]

The making of painted stones

Well, a few times I was asked to show the process of miniature paintings on stones, and here is my first attempt to capture and explain it. Warning - I only have my phone's camera at my disposal, so the quality is not very good.

Firstly - an idea for the image. Every stone has something in its pattern that can be a starting point for developing an imagery. The stone I picked for this one is a beautiful Picasso jasper, and in this case I was looking for a stone for a specific idea I've already had in mind. Spontaneous improvisation dictated by the stone's pattern is also great but I decided to pick something more definitive for better illustrating the process.

This jasper's pattern already has outlines that can be developed into a landscape without painting it over too much. I don't like it when stones are just mindlessly covered by slapping a random image on it, ignoring the colours, textures and patterns.

Here's the idea - ruins of an amphitheatre overgrown with red gladioluses. I know, I know, but I'm very interested in the initial mystical sacrificial background of gladiators. So here it is, arena covered in red, swords in the sand, but it's finally quiet.

Before we start, a stone must be varnished - minerals are porous, and lacquer smoothes its surface. I paint with tempera - most artists who work in lacquer miniatures use oils, but tempera allows quicker process, which is important for me. I'm autistic and my executive dysfunction makes working with oils difficult - my sudden bursts of activity won't match with drying timings and such. So, tempera for me.

Starting with sketching the outlines of the ruins and painting our light source, the sun and red clouds. I'm trying to work with a palette that the stone already has and make the painting as harmonious as possible.

Erasing auxiliary lines as we continue.

Done with the first layer - the walls and the sky. After the paint dries, I apply varnish (I use Novol clearcoat, car varnish - it's very durable). There can be as many layers as you need.

Now - the flowers and details.

After the painting is finished, it'll need several layers of varnish. And some fine sandpaper (1500) in-between the finishing layers for better grip.

And here it is! time to think abou a necklace for this one.

I'm not sure how useful I can be and what aspects you would like to know, so feel free to ask. I'm not sure I can make a good enough video with my current phone, so this'll have to wait. I tried to skip all the musings about ideas and finding stories, but whatever. And the time needed for work - I don't know. There was a month-long pause in the making of this one, due to a couple of emergencies that knocked me down for some time, and it's not easy for me in general due to my mental state - sometimes I can make a painting in two days, sometimes it takes years, nothing is certain with me, especially now. But well, here's what I do.

#miniature #painted stones #rock painting #painted rocks #minerals #picasso jasper #jasper #amphitheatre #arena #gladiators #gladiolus #gladioluses #flowers #ruins #roman ruins #ancient rome #sky #my art

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 5 MATCH 8

Karlach propaganda:

“Sweetest girl ever. She could throw you across a room. She can burn down a house. But she just wants a hug and to be cared about and to live her life.” 

“Definitively overused phrase but she's a golden retriever she's so cute!”

“She's the perfect woman!!! She's so nice and cute and silly and strong and wow I love girls”

"Karlach is the champion slave of one of the Devils in a layer of hell, and was sold to her by someone she trusted, and on TOP of that she is an experiment with an engine for a heart and she knows she’s going to die and is in fairly constant pain but DESPITE that she is relentlessly positive and outgoing and silly because her spirit cannot be fucking crushed no matter WHAT"

Muriel propaganda:

"HE IS VERY CUTE AND GOOD

HE IS A TEXTBOOK GENTLE GIANT

NO REALLY HE IS SUCH A SWEETIE HE JUST CAN’T DO SOCIALIZATION

HIS FAMILIAR IS BIG OUPPY. SHE’S BIG FUCKING OUPPY!!!

CHICKENS LOVE HIM

ACTUALLY FUCK THAT. ALL ANIMALS LOVE HIM. HES LIKE IF SNOW WHITE WAS HUGE AND JACKED

HE LIKES TINY FLOWERS

HE WHITTLES TINY WOODEN CREATURES TO DECORATE HIS HOUSE AND GIVE TO HIS FRIENDS

HE’S LITERALLY JUST THE PERFECT MAN LIKE WHAT THE FUCK LOOK AT HIM???"

"my boy muriel deserves all the love. he is so gentle, and so very kind.

literally the first day you meet you get a scene where he’s wounded and afraid of being touched by you and you get to gently persuade him to let you clean his wounds. it’s like beauty and the beast but he never once lashes out at you.

you wake up and he feeds you eggs— HIS portion of his eggs!! he feeds you and gives you everything and treats you so kindly before he even begins to truly trust you.

he’s a former (unwilling) gladiator and absolutely hates violence and fighting. he is gentle on purpose and is so touch starved but also afraid of being touched because he’s both afraid of being hurt by you and afraid of hurting you. but he never does, not even once. he refuses to spar with you at first he doesn’t want to hurt you so much.

he is so shy and easily flustered and even basic kindness confuses him. i just want to shower him in all the love and support i can give him.

he is a kind, gentle giant who wants to protect you and also be protected by you. he wants you both to protect each other."

#Karlach #karlach cliffgate #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #muriel the arcana #The Arcana #The Arcana Game #Round 5 #MDDC 2

[skybristle]

BENDING HORIZONS IS DONE!

my local group is done!!! short descriptions r below cut!!!! im so so excited guys omg. please ask abt them [also pls rb this took ages and im rlly proud of them!] toyhouse link here that also has full individual images!!! point out ur faves! im so excited to present them to you all [please like them please like them please l- /lh]

without further ado, here we go! in seniority [and image] order

Plunging Flows of Ash [PFA] - he/him [woman!!] He’s definitely winning his senior of the cycle award! He’s been pretty depressed and poorly functioning from the jump, but would often rely on his partner, Sparks, for help and support. When she’s in her darkest hour, and his privileges as senior are needed, he consistently fails to deliver despite her constant aid in return… and after the mass ascension, he just falls off the face of the earth, sleeping through his own depression even as his dysfunctional group desperately needs him. The catalyst for everything- as he fractured his group in two with his actions and fails to rise to their needs, and he has a chronic inability to accept his own wrongdoings and the fact things have changed. Associated Slugcat: The Colorburst Countless Swirling Sparks [CSS] - she/any Well known among iterators for her many, many methods of iteration and other inventions, Sparks was built with an unusually large [and haphazard] structure that she uses to its full advantage. Always with countless screens pulled up around her, always on some project, eating up her own escapism. She was failed by her creators long ago, but is so desperate to see her fellow iterators happy she keeps pushing on. In lieu of Ash, she has risen to a faux senior status - though lacking any powers to enforce her position. Only about half of the group [Ochre, Chimes, and Aurora] answer to her with any respect of authority- she has not been able to reach the others. Her resentment for her situation with her former lover is festering, and may explode violently once things go awry… Associated Slugcat: The Brainiac

Erupting Maw [EM] - she/her She’s fucking crazy!!! Worshiped as a god by her colony, she has not coped with their loss well. Originally seeking to replace the void left by their departure, she created purposed organisms to inhabit her city and later her can… but watching them rip eachother apart was simply so much more cathartic. She has full control! Her ego and disdain for other iterators as lowly in comparison only grows. Over the cycles, her can has become notorious for having some of the most deadly creatures. She’s an expert of bioengineering… but is the danger in seeking her aid worth it? Associated Slugcat: The Gladiator

Budding Ochre Opportunities [BOO] - she/flor Based on solarpunk aesthetics, flors city and can truly is a delight! With a colony full of roof gardens and brilliant colors, she herself has taken to turning her puppet chamber into a garden. Kind and compassionate, though cutting and assertive, she has made peace with her situation as an iterator and is just trying to live a good life. As flor adds to flors collection, she doesn’t consider any of it may posit a danger to her structure. But she would be at peace with that, too, if it were to occur. The only question is if those who care about her, such as her dearest Chimes, would be. Associated Slugcat: The Recon

Resonant Chimes [RC] - he/him He’s really just chilling, hanging out. No secret problems here, no deep-seated depression over the loss of his colony that he hangs onto, no karma flowers being poured into his puppet coolant just to feel something, none of that! Collecting music, friends with slugcats and scavs alike, having a good time. He’s surprisingly intelligent and has his morals more sorted than just about anyone here, but he’s held back by general apathy and his losses. Maybe, so many cycles detached from their creators, he won’t have to worry about losing anyone again. As long as he drinks the tea, he doesn’t have to think about it, and can pull himself closer to those below who left him. Associated Slugcat: The Gardener

Reaching for Caged Starlight [RCS] - she/it/ast Frustrated endlessly, as most iterators are, by being locked in a box, she’s determined to put an end to this. Not by ascension, though. She’s determined to free them from their cans- allow an escape from this maze. Ast wants to remove the puppet from the umbilical, in a manner where they don’t lose themself completely. Much easier said than done! Its undoing, however, is its cautious and methodical nature. She is too light on her feet to simply dare and cut the wire, let alone having the experience to snap the mechanical arm entrapping her. But, she has all the time in the world, and she will one day see the stars they made her mocking name after. They’ll all see. Ast will get there, by any cost necessary, even if her fellow iterators are disposable to this goal. Associated Slugcat: The Seamstress

A Glittering Aurora [AGA] - she/he Need some gossip? He’s your guy, all right! She burns her endless time away on global chats, basking in the amusement and the knowledge. A bit of a nuisance to her own local group, as she simply can not keep a secret, but… what happens when technology degrades, the message board is silent, he no longer can block out his circumstances,,, and the drama reaches a bit too close to home? Associated Slugcat: The Copycat Wandering Whispers [WW] - they/them A very quiet, lonely iterator, Whispers strays to themself. Only allowed to speak to their fellow iterators for shipments, or, occasionally, their senior for guidance, there were few connections for them besides to the one who vanished off the face of the earth. With their personality thoroughly destroyed by the iron fist of their colony, they simply… quietly observe. But they may hear something they’re not supposed to, and, desperate for a replacement for their mentor, lead themself astray. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and they will glimpse the void in the end and take the plunge. Associated Slugcat: The Mercy

#my art #rain world #rain world oc #rainworld #rw iterator #rw oc #rain world iterator #iterator oc #oc tag: plunging flows of ash #oc tag: countless swirling sparks #oc tag: erupting maw #oc tag: budding ochre opportunities #oc tag: resonant chimes #oc tag: reaching for caged starlight #oc tag: a glittering aurora #oc tag: wandering whispers #ill probably make chibi / simplified refs of them just for ease but. yaknow ! im done im fucking done i need a break #story tag: bending horizons

[rinkaitoons]

Team Asuma🚬

I selected flowers not only by color, but also based on their symbolism. Each picture has a description and explanation attached🍒

Shikamaru - Pelargonium (geranium)

Personifies the desire to be happy, according to Japanese legends. Red Geranium is still a symbol of comfort and comfort today.

Asuma - Gladiolus

Gladiolus is a symbol of victory, nobility and memory. Represents cheerfulness of character, friendship and loyalty. In ancient Rome, it was considered the flower of gladiators, its root, like an amulet, located on the chest.

Ino - Piones

Peonies represent wealth, prosperity and life for good. In China it is called the “flower of honor and wealth.” In addition, height is assigned the meaning of youthful love, affection and feminine beauty.

Chouji - Apple tree flowers

Among the Slavs, the apple tree symbolizes wealth and well-being. In China, the apple was associated with peace. The apple blossom is often called the “flower of love” because of its soft pink color.

#artists on tumblr #fanart #digital fanart #naruto shippuden #naruto #shikamaru nara #choji akimichi #ino yamanaka #asuma sarutobi #team asuma #naruto fanart

[corazondebeskar-reads]

live to rise - chapter two

live to rise series

two: morning will come soon

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: As the Mandalorian makes himself a more permanent addition to the barracks, you get to know the elusive man a little more while grappling with the reality of the arena. [We get to know everyone a little better before things kick up a notch in chapter three :) ]

warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, captivity, forced proximity, canon-typical violence, prisoner of war, slavery, fight to the death, au where the empire wins, discussions of genocide & war, graphic descriptions of violence & injuries, gore, brutality, religious themes, fictional religion, major character deaths, minor character deaths, angst, helmetless Din Djarin, themes of grief and loss, slow burn

Please heed the warnings.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He doesn’t notice until his forty-eighth fight, but there are children in the stands. It’s not their mere presence that simmers his bile. 

It’s the glee.

Violence is a wet nurse for Mandalorian children. They witness the raw essence of life turned to food and know the gush of a foe’s blood early in life. But they respect it. 

They respect the fight and honor the lives they take. They weigh each kill and hang it from their ribs. They know what it means to be capable of exposing a being’s innards to the sun, what it means to hold a creature as blood froths in its lungs. 

These children are reared to crave it. They’ll never feel the touch of violence, he thinks, but they’re fed by it. They play with these lives like it's a game.

The distraction costs Din a chunk of flesh but gains him a rotted tooth on the edge of the gash. 

You’re in the barracks when they bring him back that afternoon. You go still and quiet, ducking into the shadows, but, as usual, they don’t bother to check the cells. He saw you, though. You’re inside C-6, and he has a clear view through his window into the cell opposite. 

Once the guards leave, you pick back up mid-sentence into what must have been an already brewing rant.

“—pride. So stupid. The only—punished when you resist—is you.”

The humanoid grumbles something Din can’t quite hear. 

“Yeah, well, —bacta, and I don’t, so—” you retort.

When you slip out of the cell, the automatic lock snaps shut with a resounding clunk. Your hands are wound up in the underbelly of your skirts and come back out dry, at least, if not spotless. 

Not that Din notices right away. His mouth had gone fuzzy when you hiked up the layers to reveal the length of your calf. He shoves the feeling away and watches as you check carefully around the corners before slipping into the chamber between the barracks and the rest of the facilities. 

He shakes it from his fingertips. It’s the post-fight adrenaline, he knows. Mandalorians are no strangers to fucking out their feelings as the world burns around them. He cannot—will not—entertain these thoughts of you, lest he become more of the monster they make him out to be.

And every part of him is too rough for the likes of you. He won’t be responsible for marring you with his too-tight grip and desperate cock. He wouldn’t press his pain into your cunt and learn to breathe again through your cries and moans. 

He wanted to preserve you somehow, press you like a flower between the pages of a book. Even his protection would see you crushed by his selfish desire. 

So instead, he funnels the feeling into righteous anger and determination, pushing himself in his exercises until his muscles ache and scream for oxygen. He slumps against the wall, not bothering to go to the cot, and dreams fitfully of his son.

He had made the call in his own chambers. The ship had left two hours ago, tracking along the path with no issues—yet.

“Who is this? How did you get this line?” snaps a voice he does not recognize. 

“He’ll know. Tell him we’re going forward with operation esk, and the package is on-route.” 

“Message received,” cuts in the voice he was waiting for. “May the Force be with you.”

“May the stars light your way,” Din returns, and cuts the line. 

Grogu’s fast asleep when Din tucked him into the pod. He slipped the stuffed blurrg under one of the baby’s arms. It’s to be a short journey, but there’s a canteen and a tin of snacks.

The rest of his son’s belongings are carefully packed in the small cargo hold of the StarSpeeder 1000 they’d managed to salvage, complete with an RX pilot. Din didn’t favor leaving the child’s fate to a droid, but it had been thoroughly reprogrammed to override its tourist-geared protocol. 

All in all, it’s an innocuous ship with a registered pilot and route. The chain code would suffice under basic examination, and the manifest is set with a handful of false identities. 

He may not understand the Force, but he has to draw faith that it will ferry his son safely into the waiting hands of Skywalker at some destination unknown.

Skywalker had sent the coordinates directly to the droid so they couldn’t be tortured from Din. 

A wise decision, Din thinks wryly, but they haven’t interrogated him yet. 

It makes sour hope bloom—perhaps they think there’s nothing to be gained. In the darker moments, he worries they know there’s nothing to be gained. 

As it was, each of the four of them only knew part of the plan. Din had the main strategy. Vizsla, the backup. Kryze, the route. And Fett—the rendevouz. For a man who claimed no ties to the Mandalorians, he was risking everything. 

Even the loneliest striil is loyal to someone, he supposes. 

He loses count after 60 fights or so. That’s about when he stops hating the idleness of his off days and starts longing for more rest. 

It’s not just the physicality. He does seem to be perpetually bruised and bleeding, but that’s not so much different than his bounty-hunting days. He’s loathe to admit that he’s perhaps beginning to feel the effects of aging. To grow old is an honor for Mandalorians. It means you’ve emerged victorious from your battles. He doesn’t feel he can wear that pride, though.

But no, his weariness is from the killing. He tried to see his opponents as quarry, but it was too hard to maintain. Not when he’d see their sallow faces and sunken eyes. Beings with broken tusks and battered limbs. Rebel starbirds. Shock trooper stripes. Prison numbers and slave brands. 

Yesterday’s fight had him facing a Miraluka who couldn’t have been much past her girlhood. And she wanted to live; oh, she wanted it so badly he could taste it. 

She didn’t know a thing about fighting. Worse yet, their weapons for the day were flails, something even he hadn’t much experience with. He could wield it, but instead, he let it fall to the sands. 

What a terrible way to die.

He saw it before it happened. Telegraphed in the arc of the chain, his brain completing the motion before it became real. She swung her arm out hard, trying to strike him in the chest, but he pushed back on his heel and easily dodged. Without something to crush, the momentum carried.

She grappled at the chain, trying to stop it. If only she had dropped it and moved, Din thought. If only, if only. 

Instead, it wedged itself in her back, spikes between her ribs. She gasped, wavering for a moment in shock, and dropped to her knees. The crowd moaned a collective “ooh” at the turn of luck.

He knelt in front of her, grasping her shoulders. 

“Just finish it,” she said, the trace of a whimper on the end. 

“What’s your name?” he said.

“Biala.”

“Biala, is there a prayer I can make for you? Any rites for your journey?”

She shook her head and coughed. Blood dribbled, and they both knew.

“I’m so sorry, Biala,” he murmured, cradling her head in his hands. 

And then it was over. He laid her body down as the bell rang and rose to his feet. Stomps and cheers from the stands fell muffled around his shoulders, and he sneered into the crowd. 

It only made them chant louder. 

He’s brought back to the reality of today at your entrance, voices buzzing as trays clattered back and forth.

“Come here, girl,” calls a voice from across the way. Din watches as you pause, his own tray of food waiting in your hands.

The gruff old Devaronian in C-4 is reaching his large hand between the bars of the window. 

“One sec,” you tell him, making your way to Din. You go to knock before you spy his shadow between the bars and avert your eyes. 

“Good evening,” you say, sliding the tray through the slot against the floor. “Need anything?”

It’s the same old song and dance. “No, thank you,” he says. 

“Okay, have a good night,” you tell the door politely. 

He doesn’t grab the tray right away. He watches instead as you go back across the hall. 

“Whatcha need, old man?” you tease. Vrar is your favorite, mostly because he’s been around for nearly a year, and you’ve had a chance to know him.

But something about his expression gives you pause. 

Din feels suddenly intrusive as you step closer and let the warrior touch your cheek, his palm much larger than your face. 

He can’t hear what’s said, but something terribly sad comes across you as you close your eyes and shake your head. 

“No, you can’t just give up,” you say, loud enough that Din can hear. 

His heart sinks. He had wondered how many were lost to hopelessness. 

“I’m not giving up,” Vrar tells you. “I’m an old man. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired.”

“No,” you say, a harsh but quiet protest. You want to yell, but the guards will make you leave if they hear you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. 

“You can’t change my mind. I just wanted you to know before it happens. To know that I made this choice, that I will be at peace. You’ve been the one spot of kindness in this life.”  

Your voice is softer, breaking, crescendoing at the end as it pitches alongside your urgency,“—how much more you need; I’ll trade another year, please.”

“Absolutely not,” Vrar says. “When your time is up, get out and never look back. Look at me.” He waits for your focus. “You can’t save us.”

You break down into tears. Din feels something sharp pricking at his eyes, too. He shuts them and sits down on his cot, food forgotten. 

He doesn’t need to look to know you stay at Vrar’s door until the guards make you leave for the night. You sit against it, skirts splayed out around you like the rising sun, and talk to him, listen to his stories, even the ones you’ve heard over and over before. Especially those, as you try to commit them to your memory, to carry him with you. 

When you bring Din his breakfast in the morning, your eyes are bloodshot, and lips cracked from biting back your grief. For the first time, you don’t say anything. You rap your knuckles and slide the tray under. 

You stay until they come for him. You wait and stand with your hands wrapped around the bars of his window. When they take him to prepare for the arena, you watch down the hall until he’s gone. As he passes Din’s cell, he looks straight in. 

Neither man says a word, but their eyes meet, and Din nods. Vrar returns the gesture, satisfied. 

When Din looks back, you’re gone.

When you return two hours later, as his own turn in the arena nears, he doesn’t have to see your face to know. 

You’re not crying. But you move so quietly, held so tense, as you open the cell and scrub it clean, fitting it with new bedding. It’s the same routine as a deep cycle, but there was just one yesterday, and your sadness, though smothered, is palpable. 

They take him up before you’re done. Din lives to fight another day. He scrubs clean of his opponent’s blood in the cold fresher and tugs on the stiff, starched clothes left behind for him. When they take him back to his room, it’s been cleaned, but you’re gone, and there’s a new prisoner in C-4.  

You’re quiet again when you bring dinner, and though you do speak this time, it’s void of your usual softness. 

“Need anything?” you say, muted tone bristling his spine.

“I’m sorry,” he says, in lieu of an answer. 

You look up at the window out of reflex before quickly looking away. He’s not close enough for you to see, anyway. “What?” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “for your loss.”

Your eyes close tight, and you cover your mouth for a moment. “I—thank you,” you whisper. Your voice cracks a little, and he feels terrible, like he shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have upset you. 

But you hesitate there, outside his door. You swallow hard against the ache. “Thank you,” you repeat, but it’s stronger, now, and laced with the heaviness of recognizing oneself in another. 

Which is why, when you pass by the newcomer’s door, and he tells you to smile pretty for him, Din snarls, “Shut your fucking mouth.” 

You freeze and look back at his dark door. The man is saying something idiotic, but Din can’t hear it from the pulse throbbing in his ears and his single-minded focus on you. 

You shake your head minutely, and he accepts the request to stand down. Before you turn and leave the barracks, you give his door a small, sorrowful smile. 

He worries a little about the newcomer. You shouldn’t have to be harassed and accosted like this. 

When you had brought breakfast, the man had tried to reach through the bars to grab your face. You had recoiled and dodged his grimy hands but otherwise ignored it. 

It turns out he doesn’t need to worry. The next day, the guards take both him and the creep up to the arena. 

When Din returns, your relief is unmistakable. 

You never ask about the fights, so he doesn’t have to lie to you. He doesn’t have to tell you the truth, either; doesn’t have to tell you how it’s the first one he’s dragged out on purpose. How he broke the man’s hands in his own for daring to try to touch you. How he broke his jaw for talking to you like that. 

It’s unlike him, and he hopes he can shrug it off, that the endless killing of beings he knows are fellow prisoners builds a layer of beskar in his bones each day. But Vrar was right. 

You’re a spot of light here, like the yellow blossoms that push up between duracrete. He’s not sure how you’ve kept it up this long, not after seeing how deeply you’re cut when “your” fighters die. But he’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t lose that. Including keeping lowlife scum away where they can’t contaminate the barrack.

He dreams that night of taking you with him when he leaves and isn’t sure what to do with the thought in the morning. 

You paint him, too. Nicolai. The one who made your skin crawl. Even the portrait comes out predatory, and you wish you wouldn’t have to look at it every time until the page is full. 

It’s not the first time a resident has made you feel unsafe. Won’t be the last, either, you reckon. Unlike those of you who are serving criminal sentences, the fighters are all prisoners of war. But just because they were an enemy of the Empire does not make them a friend.

Most of them are good. Not all even raised a weapon against the Imperials. Some were support—medics, pilots, suppliers. Some were strangers who stood up to protect a Stormtrooper’s victim in the town square. Some were no one, who had the unfortunate luck of being related to or seen with a known insurgent. 

But some, well. Some were grifters playing both sides. Some were mercenaries, assassins, slavers. Some, like Nicolai, were druglords who couldn’t be bought—too busy running their own empires to respect the government. 

It’s funny, in that way that makes your stomach bile bite and claw at your throat. Everyone thought you needed to be afraid of the fighters. You have to shut and stow the book, not wanting to smudge Vrar’s portrait any further by thinking of him.

He never liked you being in the servant’s barracks. And for some reason, he never liked your bunkmate. Didn’t like Eli, who had never been anything but kind. Who was maybe your only friend. 

“Just something off about him,” Vrar had said. “But you shouldn’t trust anyone.” 

You had shaken your head. “I’m one of them,” you insisted. 

“Oh, how could I have forgotten,” he deadpanned, “you and your criminal record of… what was it again? Stealing from your own farm to feed hungry children? Being too polite to a trooper?”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “Evading tariffs is considered very serious, I’ll have you know.” 

When he was done teasing you, he had sobered right up. “I still don’t like it. Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

“No, but I’m sure they wouldn’t trust someone dangerous as a caretaker.”

He hadn’t been so sure, but it’s not like they let just anyone work down here. You had done a stint upstairs for a while, like everyone else, serving drinks in the sponsor’s lounge. 

After all, caretaker neglect could (and did) prematurely kill their stock. And it granted access to much more of the complex than most other roles. 

When you deliver dinner, the Mandalorian speaks to you again. You try to take it in stride. 

“If there’s another like him,” he says, voice like the creak of trees at night, “are you safe? Can you defend yourself?” 

It’s not what you expected. You purse your lips, frowning as you weigh your answers. “Harming a caretaker is prohibited,” you say after a moment.

“That’s not what I asked.” It’s firm and compelling in a way you can’t explain. Maybe it's the regality that he can’t contain, a tone leftover from negotiating and persuading or whatever kings do. 

“I don’t have to worry about being hurt by a fighter,” you say. 

He hums, accepting your answer.

You wonder if he heard the unspoken words you swallowed back. 

You eat with them again at Disdraa’s request, though it’s a quieter affair without Vrar’s booming voice. You find you don’t have it in you to joke around. 

She takes mercy on you, setting aside her meal to regale the hall with a story from her childhood on Ryloth. It’s not a happy story, exactly, but it ends with hope. 

You feel warm for the first time since Vrar’s death. “Thank you,” you murmur through her bars when you stand. 

She makes a show of rolling her eyes. “For what? I just like to hear myself talk, little bird.”

You make a show of returning the gesture, including the solemn smile she gave. 

It wasn’t the story, really. It was the way it reminded you of home. When you would visit the families of the dead and dying. When they would share themselves while sharing their love, how they would leap to comfort despite their own grief. 

Even for you, a stranger until that moment, someone they could easily hate for only arriving while someone was leaving. 

But that was not the way of things for your people. They allowed you, for however small a time, to be the vessel for their loved one, to gather and hold the memories until you could spill them on your canvas. To stand between their spirit and the void of the forgotten. 

To love and be loved, even fleetingly. 

Did you wish that just once, that love would stay? That you wouldn’t love knowing it was to be lost? In the dark of night, though you’d never admit it, you ached for it. 

next chapter

*title from "Prayer of the Refugee" by Rise Against

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #gladiator!din djarin #fic: live to rise #if you see me messing around with formatting again no u didn't #did I mention this was a slow burn? lol

[yoonavii]

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀

Gladiator Prince! Eustass x Warrior princess! Reader

Story description: Y/n, a skilled ice warrior from the frigid kingdom of Nosta, and Prince Eustass, a ruthless gladiator prince hailing from the enemy nation, the Modora Empire. Their two nations have a long history of conflict and animosity. However, when a dire situation calls for a political marriage to secure peace, Y/n and Eustass find themselves bound together in a union neither desires. As they navigate the treacherous path of diplomacy, they must confront their own prejudices and the weight of their peoples’ expectations. Through adversity and danger, the icy walls between them slowly begin to melt, and they discover unexpected connections and feelings, transforming their initial enmity into a deep and passionate love of the ages.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

As the carriage races through the unforgiving winter terrain, driven by giant snow wolves accustomed to such harsh conditions, you find yourself caught in the chaos of the storm. Despite the violent rocking and jostling, you manage to sleep soundly, occasionally twitching and jerking as your maid covers you with additional blankets. The wolves, relentless in their speed, propel the carriage forward, ensuring no delays or accidents disrupt the carefully planned journey. In your slumber, you drift into a vivid dream, a haunting flashback to your younger years spent hunting in the wintery forest mountains alongside your late mother, the queen of the Nosta kingdom. The dream unfolds with both of you perched in tall trees, bows and arrows in hand, scouting for prey. Your mother, a mentor and guide, coaches you on aiming with precision. In the dream, younger you attentively listens to her instructions, but a misstep in the tree branches sends you plummeting from a great height. The impending impact vanishes as you abruptly awaken, your body instinctively going into defense mode. In the waking world, you clutch your hidden axe, the weapon concealed beneath you.

Your maid, alarmed by your sudden movement, implores you to calm down. Fear etches her face as she tries to reassure you, the residual tension from the dream lingering in the air. In the dream, your mother's voice resonates, offering guidance and comfort. "Focus, my dear. A true warrior learns from every stumble….." The dream's echoes fade, leaving you grappling with the lingering emotions and memories it stirred.

———

As hours and days passed, the harsh winter weather yielded to a more temperate climate, signaling your arrival in the Modora Empire's territory. The coachman skillfully slowed the wolves, bringing the carriage to a gentle stop. A well-deserved break was in order, not just for the wolves but for everyone in the caravan. The subsequent carriages, carrying royal guards, additional maids, and their belongings, also came to a halt. Your personal maid greeted you with a cheerful "Good morning" as she assisted you out of the carriage. Returning the greeting, you acknowledged everyone around you. Other maids hurried over, armed with lighter and more comfortable clothing suitable for the warmer climate. They worked efficiently, swiftly transforming your appearance and enhancing your natural beauty.

Spotting your loyal bodyguard and friend, Law, you greeted him with a warm hug. Despite his initial stiffness, he accepted the gesture. With a chuckle, you inquired about his experience during the journey. Law, typically stoic, couldn't hide his dissatisfaction, expressing his disdain for the snowstorm. Your laughter echoed, a moment of shared amusement amidst the challenges of the journey. As you survey the surroundings, your eyes are met with a breathtaking sight – lush green valleys adorned with vibrant flowers. The spectacle of nature's abundance is a stark contrast to the snowy landscapes you're accustomed to back home. In the Nosta Kingdom, greenery was a rarity, with the closest semblance found in the herbs that thrived within the confines of mountain caves. The vibrant hues and fragrant blossoms of the Modora Empire's terrain unfold before you, a testament to the diverse beauty that exists beyond the icy kingdom you once called home.

In the midst of the serene landscape, two large wild boars emerge, seemingly lost from their group. Towering in size compared to the hogs of the Nosta kingdom, these creatures are a testament to the diverse environments within Modora's territory. The prospect of their sizable meat and fur doesn't go unnoticed, and you signal for your prized bow and arrow, a cherished possession passed down from your mother, the queen. Crafted from steel and adorned with ancient engravings, the bow carries a legacy. As you ready your arrow, the boars, sensing the impending threat, hasten their retreat. Undeterred, you take off in pursuit, the maids cautioning you not to venture too far falling on deaf ears. Closing the distance, you seize the opportunity, sliding gracefully on your side and expertly angling the arrow. With precision, you release the shot, striking the boar's stomach and bringing it down. The successful hunt is both a display of skill and a reminder of the resourcefulness required in these unfamiliar lands.

"Whoa! This boar is bigger than I thought," you exclaimed, approaching the fallen creature with a mix of awe and accomplishment. Pressing your foot on top of it, you deftly retrieved the arrow. The other hog, sensing the danger, had fled, but the success of the hunt assured that there would be plenty for everyone. The soldiers, swift in their response, caught up and took charge of retrieving the hog. It would soon find its way to the traveling party's chef, who would expertly skin and prepare it, ensuring a savory addition to the journey's provisions.

————-

As the aromatic meal is prepared, you find a solitary spot, turning your gaze away from the bustling activity and toward the expansive landscape ahead. The weight of your arranged marriage begins to settle in, a reality that transcends the title of a regular princess. You'll not just be a princess but the crown princess, destined to become the future queen of an empire you've grown up harboring resentment against throughout your life. As Law joins you with a plate of food, you both sit in silence, savoring the meal while taking in the scenery. In a moment of shared understanding, you set down your food and share your thoughts with him. “If this marriage and alliance go south, I’ll make a massacre of the emperor and his son. Take over the empire by force,” you assert, a steely determination in your voice.

Law, without hesitation, responds, “I’m with you on that.”

But then, a shift in tone as you contemplate an alternate scenario. “If things go okay, I’ll be a good queen— well respected and greatly feared” you declare, hinting at the intricate balance you envision for your future rule.  Grinning, you turn to Law, sharing a promise amid the uncertainty. “When I marry the prince, I’ll make you one of their generals. Your swordsmanship and talents deserve recognition,” you declare. Law, caught off guard by the offer, blushes and stammers out a heartfelt thanks. As you finish your food, you get up and head towards the traveling party. With a commanding presence, you stand tall over your maids, a stature inherited from your mother. Communicating your desire for an unforgettable first impression, you guide them in selecting attire that blends regality with practicality, evoking the spirit of a warrior. Among the items retrieved is a wolf fur cape, once worn by your late mother. Its significance adds a layer of strength and legacy to your ensemble. As the maids fumble with the weight of your crown, a chuckle escapes you. With effortless strength, you retrieve the imposing crown, made of iron and copper, placing it firmly on your head.

With the axe holster now secured on your back, you deftly retrieve your formidable axe, the metallic 'shing!' marking its readiness. Suddenly, a distinctive sound interrupts the serene atmosphere – the quick pattering of paws in the distance. Instinctively, you raise a hand, signaling for silence. From the shadows emerges a wolf rider, accompanied by none other than your loyal polar bear dog, Lucie. Filled with exuberance, Lucie hastens her pace, reaching you in a joyful collision, showering you with affectionate licks. The wolf rider dismounts, kneeling before you, and removes their goggles. As recognition dawns upon you, a smile graces your face – it's Sabo, an old friend returned.

—————-

The castle buzzed with anticipation as the news of Princess Y/N's imminent arrival spread like wildfire. The grandeur of the Modora Empire's palace contrasted starkly with the icy realm she came from. Prince Eustass found himself caught in the whirlwind of preparations.

His adviser, a man with an air of urgency, guided Eustass through the halls. "Remember, Prince, this is more than a political move. It's a step towards peace," the adviser said, emphasizing the significance of the occasion. Eustass, cloaked in thoughts of his father's condition, responded with a stoic nod. The maids, skilled in their craft, surrounded him, adjusting the royal armor and draping intricate fabrics. Overheard conversations revealed the excitement of the cleaning maids.

One of them whispered to another, "I heard the princess is as stunning as the snow-capped mountains." Eustass, overhearing, couldn't help but smirk at their animated discussions. In the midst of the primping and preening, Eustass's right-hand man, Killer, lounged nearby, munching on grapes. "You seem thrilled about the impending union, Killer," Eustass remarked, glancing at him. Killer smirked, "Just looking forward to the festivities is all." He tossed a grape into the air and caught it skillfully.

As the maids continued their meticulous work, the adviser stressed the diplomatic implications. "This union will solidify the peace treaty and reshape the geopolitical landscape, your highness." Eustass, in a moment of introspection, muttered to himself, "Political maneuvers... a dance I never fancied." The maids finished their preparations, leaving Eustass adorned in regal attire. He straightened his posture, preparing to meet the princess who would play a pivotal role in the empire's future.

—————

You swing yourself onto Lucie’s back, her white fur warm beneath you. Sabo, atop his wolf, rides beside you as you resume your journey. Lucie nuzzles against you, a sign of her loyalty.

“So, what did you bring for me?” you ask, curious about the luggage Sabo retrieved. Sabo grins, “Well, let’s say you’ll be delighted. And Lucie here insisted on tagging along. Seems she can’t stay away from her favorite person.” You pat Lucie’s head, appreciating her company. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucie. And Sabo, you’re quite the courier, aren’t you?” Sabo laughs, “I couldn’t let you go without your things. Plus, I wanted to see you off properly.” As the carriages continue their journey, the trio of friends rides alongside, sharing stories and laughter amidst the changing landscapes.

The scent of blooming flowers fills the air, a stark contrast to the crisp, icy fragrance of Nosta. The vibrant colors of the blossoms paint a lively picture against the backdrop of the Modora Empire's more temperate climate. Lucie, sensing your curiosity, sniffs the flowers, her large nose brushing gently against the petals. "Sabo, Law, have you guys ever seen anything like this?" you ask, marveling at the newfound beauty surrounding you. Sabo shakes his head, "Not in the Revolutionary hideouts, that's for sure." Law, a man of few words, simply observes the scenery, appreciating the change in atmosphere. The carriages carrying your belongings and maids move along smoothly, adjusting to the shift in terrain.

As you ride, the landscape transforms from fields of flowers to open meadows, and the sight of grazing animals comes into view. The variety in the empire's flora and fauna is captivating, a testament to the diverse climates that exist within its borders. Lucie continues to amble forward, her fur adapting to the warmer weather. You take a moment to appreciate the newfound warmth, the gentle breeze playing with your hair. The sun casts a golden hue across the landscape, creating a serene atmosphere. It's a stark departure from the harsh winters of Nosta, and you find yourself intrigued by the mysteries that await in this unfamiliar land.

————

The colossal gates of the Modora Empire towered before you, adorned with statues that showcased the empire's might and opulence. The gladiator warriors, sculpted in imposing stances, greeted all who approached with an air of authority. The glistening gold helmets atop the statues hinted at the empire's wealth and grandeur.

Lucie trotted alongside your carriage, the snow wolves pulling it seamlessly through the gate entry. As you entered, the imposing guards, clad in formidable armor, scrutinized your presence. Their intense gazes met yours, but you maintained a stoic demeanor, refusing to be intimidated by their imposing figures.

The carriage rolled deeper into the heart of the empire, the architecture becoming more intricate and sophisticated with every passing moment. The bustling streets, lined with vendors and citizens going about their daily lives, painted a vivid picture of the bustling empire. Despite the grandeur, you couldn't shake a sense of apprehension, wondering how you would navigate the intricacies of a culture so different from your own. The bustling crowd, a mix of intrigue and discontent, pressed against the path as your arrival drew their attention. The diverse and prosperous surroundings hinted at the complexity of the empire. Royal guards formed a protective barrier, clearing a path for you and your entourage toward the palace.

Among the onlookers, children tried to squeeze through the crowd to catch a glimpse, their curiosity evident. However, in the commotion, a young girl got pushed to the ground. Your keen eyes caught the incident, prompting you to halt Lucie and step down. The crowd hesitated, creating a brief pause in their murmurings. Approaching the fallen girl, you crouched down and extended a helping hand. The onlookers watched with a mix of fear and curiosity as the young girl accepted your gesture, saying a sincere "thank you" with a smile. Your reassuring demeanor eased the tension, and with a nod, you returned to Lucie, resuming your journey through the vibrant yet complicated empire.

The steep entry stairs unfold before you, each step revealing more of the grandeur of the palace. The air is charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty as you ascend, accompanied by Law, your unwavering bodyguard. The intricacies of the palace's architecture become increasingly apparent, from finely crafted pillars to the detailed carvings that adorn its structure. The grandness of the palace leaves an indelible mark on your senses, making your heart race with a combination of awe and trepidation. The clash of emotions intensifies as the reality of meeting your long-standing enemy and future husband, within the confines of your parents and ancestors' historic adversary, sets in. Amidst the grandeur, Law casts a reassuring glance your way. His words, soft but steady, remind you to calm your nerves, assuring you that he stands by your side. 

A posh-looking man, draped in opulent fabrics, extends a courtly greeting as you approach the entrance door. "Your Highness," he says with a bow, "I am honored to be your guide in our imperial palace. I am Lucius, the emperor's adviser." Lucius then gestures gracefully toward the grandeur beyond the entrance. "The Emperor, The Queen Mother, and the Crown Prince are eagerly awaiting your arrival in the throne room. They are keen to meet the esteemed Princess of Nosta." As you nod in acknowledgment, Lucius leads the way into the palace, detailing the architectural wonders that surround you. The halls are a tapestry of influences, blending the grandeur of Greek and Roman styles. Pillars adorned with vibrant vines and exotic plants create an enchanting passage, setting the stage for the grand audience ahead.

While guiding you through the regal expanse, Lucius shares tidbits of information about the palace's history, the imperial family, and the cultural nuances that define the empire. The dialogue flows seamlessly, offering you glimpses into the rich tapestry of the Modora Empire's traditions and grandeur.

Lucius, with a slightly awkward tone, cautions you about the Queen mother's traditional perspectives and her keen observations. "Her Majesty holds certain views close to her heart," he explains. "She may take a particular interest in observing you, so I advise you to be mindful of your actions." As you process this information, Lucius leans in a bit closer, offering an additional warning. "And when you meet the Crown Prince, please refrain from staring into his eyes for too long. It is considered... unconventional. You'll understand once you're inside." Before you can inquire further, the imposing throne room doors swing open, revealing the regal space beyond. Lucius gestures for you to enter, and with a deep breath, you step into the grandeur of the throne room, prepared to face the eyes of the imperial family.

The throne room unfolds before you in a display of grandeur. Nature intertwines with regality as pillars and plants frame the scene, accentuated by a gentle waterfall and stream. At the center, the imposing thrones stand tall—the Queen mother gracing one side, the emperor in the middle, and the crown prince seated on the other. As you step into the room, the Queen mother rises from her seat, a striking figure of elegance despite her age. Adorned in gold jewelry and rings on every finger, she exudes a commanding presence. The emperor, resembling his mother in appearance, acknowledges your arrival with a nod, while the Crown Prince, seated with a composed demeanor, observes quietly. The air is charged with a mix of curiosity and formality as you approach the imperial family.

The Queen mother, adorned in glimmering gold, approaches with an air of authority. You resist the traditional bow, standing tall with your father's crown. The jingle of her jewelry echoes through the room as she inspects you. "Open your mouth," she commands. Reluctantly, you comply. Her fingers delicately touch your jaw, scrutinizing your teeth. The metallic glint of a silver tooth catches her attention. She inquires about it, and you explain the cultural tradition of silver teeth for princesses in your kingdom. The Queen mother, undeterred, reveals that in Modora, royalty can opt for pure gold teeth. The moment carries the weight of cultural contrasts, but you maintain your composure.

As the Queen mother settles into her seat, the emperor initiates conversation with a polite greeting, his imposing presence not lost on you. Your inner conflict intensifies, knowing that your parents perished due to him and his forebears. Inquiring about your journey, the emperor maintains a veneer of courtesy. His gaze shifts to the guards, and with a wave, he dismisses them from the room, even prompting Law's departure, leaving the space private for the impending discussion.

You hold a contemplative expression, your gaze focused on the emperor. "During the journey, I had time to reflect," you begin, the weight of the situation evident in your voice. "While I am not thrilled about this arrangement, I understand the potential benefits for my kingdom. Our people are suffering, and a union could bring about much-needed stability." The emperor listens intently, acknowledging your words with a nod. Before the emperor could speak again, Prince Eustass interjects with a skeptical tone, “Benefits? What benefits could the Nostians possibly offer us, except for plundering our wealth?” You meet Eustass’s gaze, maintaining your composure. “It’s not about taking wealth,” you calmly correct him, “but rather establishing a trade that could provide our people with food and water. The Nosta Kingdom is known for its herbalists and medicinal expertise. In exchange, we seek sustenance for our people. It’s a matter of survival and prosperity through cooperation.”

Eustass grunts in annoyance, averting his gaze as his pride takes a subtle hit. The emperor, discerning the tension, takes the initiative to address the situation. "My sincerest apologies for my son's behavior," he states with a hint of regret. He then shares the unfortunate news of the empress's absence, bedridden due to an ongoing illness. In response, you empathize with the emperor, revealing a shared experience of parental illness. "My parents faced a similar fate," you explain, noting that a cure had been discovered but arrived too late. The room holds a heavy atmosphere, acknowledging the weight of the past.

Feeling the need to express gratitude and respect, you gracefully lower yourself to both knees, hands clasped in your lap, and bow your head. "I am thankful for this alliance," you convey, your words carrying the burdens and hopes of the Nosta kingdom. The emperor listens attentively, and in this shared moment of vulnerability, the foundation for understanding and cooperation is laid. The Queen mother gracefully approaches you, a maternal tone in her voice as she encourages you to rise, addressing you with an almost motherly affection. As you stand, the emperor, seeking to lighten the mood, playfully remarks about not expecting such a formal gesture until the wedding. This comment sparks laughter between the emperor and Queen mother, forming a warm atmosphere in contrast to the looming tension.

However, the jovial moment only fuels Prince Eustass's frustration. He abruptly leaves his throne, storming off and forcefully slamming the grand doors behind him. His anger still lingers, and the impending marriage remains a sore point, evident in the echoes of his disgruntled departure.

The emperor, visibly frustrated by his son's outburst, mutters a curse under his breath. Swiftly, he snaps his fingers, summoning two guards into the room. They approach, asking for the emperor's orders. "Make sure the prince doesn't leave the palace." The guards bow in acknowledgment before promptly leaving to carry out the command. Apologizing once more, the emperor turns his attention back to you. "I apologize for my son's behavior. He's not accustomed to such arrangements. Please understand, Princess."

Suddenly, a wave of uneasiness washes over you and the Queen mother’s now concerned gaze comes to view. “Are you feeling okay, my dear? Any lightheadedness or unusual sensations?” Attempting to respond, you open your mouth, but your voice falters, and nothing comes out. The edges of your vision blur, and an unexpected surge of heat envelops you. In a swift response, the emperor steps forward, his voice carrying urgency, “Her body is struggling to adapt to the empire’s climate!” He calls out for maids, and they hurriedly rush into the room just in time to witness your legs giving way. They swiftly catch you before you completely collapse.

Amid the commotion, the queen mother’s worry deepens, and she issues instructions, “Gently now! take her to a cooler room—Prepare a damp cloth. We need to help her acclimate to our climate!” The maids follow her orders, guiding you out of the room as the emperor watches with a mix of concern and regret on his face.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece headcanons #op hcs #op headcanons #anime x reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece fluff #op x y/n #op x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x oc #op fanfic #opq #one piece #anime x y/n #eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid #eustass captain kidd #kidd fluff #kidd x reader #massacre soldier killer #trafalgar law #killer one piece #kid x reader #kid fluff #kid x you

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yarem vs Yandere lesbian childhood bestie who’s overprotective of S/O

I’m finally ready to introduce my 6’9” lesbian OC, Marisa ‘Mari’ Guerra. She’s a muscular stud with short wavy red hair in a pixie cut and she has boulder shoulders. She’s a gladiator that practices Pankration. She has scars all over her face and body. Has a 10inch strap on her at all times and she will tell guys her dick is bigger than theirs. She looks more masculine than most men and loves to be complimented on her hulking muscles (she’s very proud of them and will give you a pec dance if you ask). She also has a freakishly long tongue that is split (she got drunk and thought it’d be sexy if she licked a knife in front of you, but now it’s double the fun).

Absolutely obsessed with you. Will not accept your rejection. You both are Amazons from Paradise Island. Same sex relationships are encouraged so she will chase you to the ends of the earth until you accept her.

Anyways… without further ado. Yarem vs Yandere lesbian bff

Yandere Baki Head Canon

Your lesbian bff getting in the way of any romantic relationships you can have.

Afab Reader

Tokugawa announced to the fighters that there would be two female competitors this year. Two Amazons he had found on his travels. It was a shock to everyone. Yet when you walked into the arena first, their breath hitched at the sight, at least until the giant woman beside you joined you. Her large hand on your shoulder as she glared at everyone. A beauty and a beast…

To be fair, you were much prettier and very feminine looking for a warrior compared to Mari. You didn’t look like you belonged in this competition while Marisa did. You didn’t look like a gladiator or a warrior. Marisa towered over you easily and was quite loud compared to you. So it wasn’t hard for you to gain their attention. You were respectful and humble while Mari was the complete opposite

Jack had tried to introduce himself to you first but Marisa chased him off. The giant woman pushing him away when he tried to smile at you with a glare that would make anyone cry. Jack was shocked you waved at him at least before Marisa dragged you away. You were nice to all the men at the arena even when Marisa was watching. You were very pleasant to be around.

When you faced off against Katsumi, he complimented you after you defeated him. You gave him some criticism on his fighting style and even told him what areas he was lacking in. What to improve on. Katsumi was smitten with you ever since but Marisa wouldn’t let him within 100 feet of you. Your ‘big scary dog’ scared off any suitors in Japan and even back home

When Marisa defeated Hanayama, you checked to see if he was alright. He felt touched that you would check on him but Marisa gave him a look to silence him.

You ended up losing to Jack Hanma, but you were still cordial with him and complimented his strength. He was flustered. Sadly that didn’t last long because when he faced off against Marisa, she beat the absolute shit out of him. Marisa broke his arm in half, if the referee hadn’t gotten involved, she probably would’ve ripped it off and beaten Jack with it. Marisa was so upset that you were hurt

Hanayama sent you letters while you were in the hospital but you never got them. Marisa threw away any flowers or letters Hanayama tried to send you (sometimes she’d eat them so there’s no evidence). Mari couldn’t stand the yakuza. She didn’t want you involved with someone so dangerous. Marisa stayed by your side the entirety of your hospital stay and only let female doctors and nurses in. Absolutely no men.

Marisa was so over protective of you that you had a hard time making friends while in Japan but the other fighters weren’t deterred. They’d still try to talk to you, even when Marisa would throw them far away from you (except Jack and Hanayama). She wasn’t going to let you fall in love with any ‘man thing.’

Marisa threw a car at Hanayama once. Just once to get the point across that she was willing to throw down with him at any point in time

Retsu would communicate with you from afar using sign language. He’s smarter than the others. He doesn’t want to face Marisa’s wrath so he communicates with you in ways she can’t interfere (Marisa doesn’t know sign language)

You sneak out to hang out with Retsu. You’re not even gone fifteen minutes and Marisa is hunting you down

Over all, you’d never be able to have a romantic relationship with anyone unless Marisa died. But even then, she’d probably haunt you

#baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere baki #female reader #Baki #grappler baki #lesbian oc #yandere lesbian #baki headcanons #baki kaoru hanayama #baki dou #baki katsumi orochi #hanayama kaoru #jack hanma #retsu kaioh

[rc-appreciationweeks]

Since Halloweekend is not book-specific, we thought it best to provide links to the game assets of all Romance Club books.

Disclaimer: The Romance Club Appreciation Weeks team are not the owners of these resources, full credit goes to the Malbgt group on Telegram

🔥 Кali: Flame of Samsara 🌓 W: Time Catcher ☠️ Love, Sin, and Evil 🔪 Chasing You 2 🌙 Song of the Red Nile 👾 Elite TAG ⛓ Heaven's Secret 2 🐪 The Desert Rose 💍 The One 🧬 Psi ♟ Vying for Versailles ⚓️ Hell and High Water 🕰 Theodora 🌺 The Flower from Tiamat's Fire 🕌 Кali: Call of Darkness 👑 Heart of Trespia 🦾Gladiator Chronicles 🎪 Arcanum ⛸ On Thin Ice 🕯Sins of London 👠 Sophie's Ten Wishes 🔱 Rage of the Titans 🗡 Path of the Valkyrie ✨ Love from the Stars 🦇 Dracula: a Love Story 🦊 Legend of the Willow 🔎 Chasing You 1 ☁️ Heaven's Secret 1 💃🏼 Seduced by the Rhythm 🌊 Wave Patrol 🎭 Shadows of Saintfour 👰🏻‍♀️ Queen in 30 Days 🎬 My Hollywood Story 🩸Moonborn ⛵️Sails in the Fog

Events (in Russian) - Soundtracks

And this time, we have also compiled some additional assets from various RC fans (BeautifulCome, brsv_rmnc, cr.nana, Crystalr_Lian, malbgt, Reimbr, and Xorrrerty). If you use any of these, please remember to credit the creators!

#romance club #rchalloweekend #rc appreciation weeks #halloweekend #Romance club edit #Romance club resources

[sansaorgana]

Hello how are you??? I hope you’re having a good day. What methods do you think Feyd would try if his wife was mad at him? Let’s say they got into a fight or he did something to upset her? So she is now giving him the cold shoulder and Feyd is all confused and wants her attention back. What do you think he would do to earn her forgiveness?

Hello! I'm fine 💕 Thank you for asking 😍 I hope you're having a good day, too 😊

-> It most likely depends on you and what you like. He would try to awkwardly do something that brings you pleasure. Like, if you enjoy fresh flowers, he is spending a fortune on getting them (Giedi Prime does not have their own) to put them in your chambers. If you enjoy certain food, he makes sure the cook prepares it for you (and adds a note from your husband to your meal).

-> He might go extra in his typical Feyd-Rautha style and gift you a human heart 😂

-> I can also imagine him being very observant and trying to find the right moment to protect you from something or defend you in a conversation. Even if his reaction is exaggerated – he is reminding you about his presence and devotion this way.

-> I cannot forget about teasing you sexually, because let's be real, you would be a whore for that body lol So he'd walk around shirtless a lot, maybe right after a fight still sweaty and covered in blood of his enemies 👀

-> If your fight is around the time of his gladiator fight, he would dedicate his victory to you in the presence of thousands of people, so you couldn't ignore him.

-> If you like to joke around, I think he would desperately show more of his goofy nature (which is there in him as we can see in the movie) so expect lots of silly jokes and remarks accompanied with his winks and black grins that make your eyes roll but with each one of them you forgive him more and more.

-> All of these things of course do not apply when the argument was really serious and about important matters. Such arguments should be talked over together but he of course struggles with communication. So it would just take him time to start missing you and he'd have to finally come to you with his head hanging low as he awkwardly tells you he is ready to talk your problem through.

#oneandonlyizabelle #sansaorgana: Answered

[brother-emperors]

i think you said in response to a previous ask that octavian and antony are a Worse version of the brutus and cassius gladiator-statesman dynamic, and that octavian and agrippa are a different thing that wasn't relevant at the moment. i was wondering if you meant that octavian and agrippa are a thing outside the gladiator statesman dynamic (and if so, any ideas on why that is?) or that they were a different version of that dynamic?

also, this is the same anon who asked about using some of your quotes in a presentation! it ended up going pretty well considering most people there weren't unwell about dead romans!

octavian and agrippa are thing outside of that dynamic! this is, ofc, a YMMV type of thing, this is very much getting into creative/thematic nonsense that I like to play with as someone who makes comics

but basically the cut off for the statesman-gladiator/politician-warrior dynamic is philippi. things get hazy leading up to philippi because julius caesar has already eroded a core element to rome's structure, which is that it's made HIM the focus point of politics. there is no longer room for horizontal alliances of power amongst men vying for prestige, there is only room for vertical loyalty (so like, a more extreme version of patronage and bossism politics) (and disloyalty! because you get stabbed if you make people unhappy!! you make your body one with the state and people will let you know what they think of you. and the state.)

Antony, Fulvia, and the Ghost of Clodius in 47 BC, Kathryn E Welch

so by the time octavian wins, standing on top of everyone else, the general power structure of rome has changed and it's not going back. it looks the same, and people are going 'nooooo it's still a republic, LOOKS like the republic!' while dragging around decayed corpse, but it's different.

Caligula, Aloys Winterling

octavian and agrippa are co regents, with octavian as the clear head of state and agrippa, who is borderline unwell in his devotion to octavian, and somehow it worked for them. like, for them specifically it balanced out into a partnership.

Ancestor Masks and Aristocratic Power in Roman Culture, Harriet I Flower

in theory, this kind of dynamic (with a domestic politician and a general to enact imperialist policy) would be the blue print that would continue down, and boy did they try. tiberius and sejanus. caligula and macro. good grief. the system of relationships and obligations that allowed this kind of dynamic to show up frequently in the republic falls apart here because power corrupts, baby, and with a state assuming a body, there's no way that power is going distribute itself. everyone is going to want to be that body. except agrippa, who was devoted to octavian, but you can't. replicate that kind of intimacy even if you want to.

so it LOOKS like a statesman-gladiator dynamic, but they're really just co regents in practice, but the actual framework is closer to a king and his knight. they are also. incest adjacent. ground zero for the incest circus that happens later? or maybe something else.

basically the logic for that is the way that octavian kept trying to get agrippa into the family tree to make agrippa his heir prompted this kind of. increasingly more insular behavior. AND THIS TOO

Ancestor Masks and Aristocratic Power in Roman Culture, Harriet I Flower

additionally, I think proximity to octavian-imperial rome dooms a lot of people. agrippa dies before octavian, tiberius' character goes on a definitive downward arc. brother-pairs as rulers, caligula's hellenistic tendencies and the incest allegations with his sisters, the twin-ification of pairs--

Tiberius and the Heavenly Twins, Edward Champlin

--agrippina and nero. Everything Nero Was Doing With Masks And Theater Sure Was Weird. there's a kind of house dynamic going on with imperial rome, but the whole thing is a mouth eating itself. rot. pater patriae. in a permanent state of digestion. etc/

that last one is a thought I'm work shopping, but basically to me all of this is a worse version of the statesman/gladiator dynamic because of the concentration of power.

#like. octavian augustus is this awful vulture that steals from everything and then gnaws away at it #like. taking the vulture accusations away from pompey. octavian augustus outran ALL of you in the Theft Department #ALSO IM GLAD THAT YOUR PRESENTATION WENT WELL! hell yeah!!! #ask tag #(squints at this) i think i got off track. but my thoughts are rarely linear. so. i tried my best. hopefully it is coherent