#he blew up his own ship...he's really selling it

[kopykunoichi]

"Domiciles"

What other clone in the galaxy uses that word, besides Tech? He cracked Phee's encryption on her navicomputer without issue, which you can bet was pretty advanced.

But...maybe he isn't as brainwashed as he appears. Did anyone else notice how the typical clone accent was heavy when he was talking to Hemlock, but he sounded more like Crosshair when he was on Pabu?

There was a whole ass Imperial cruiser on Pabu, equipped with detention cells and hundreds of armed guards...and he just threw the highly essential asset in the back of his suped up space corvette and said, "she's with me", before he peaced out and left his imp buddies. Highly sus.

#the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb cx-2 #tbb omega #he blew up his own ship...he's really selling it #he shot those charges onto the marauder while Wrecker was outside the ship so he'd see them #he shot the pilot of the lartie not Hunter #he wants the girl brought to HIM not the Empire #I'm 100% convinced it's Tech but I don't know how we're going to resolve it in 4 episodes if he's brainwashed #the only solution I can think of is that he's not brainwashed and he's been playing the long game this whole time #he has a plan to save everyone

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty six : crucifixion

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 12.7k

summary : judgement day.

warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.

a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.

i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!

“My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 

Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 

“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 

“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 

“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 

“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 

“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 

“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         

“What were you like, as a child?”

“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 

“I would sew.” 

“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.

“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 

“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 

“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 

“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 

“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 

“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”

“Do you still know how?”

“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 

“What were their names? Your parents?”

“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  

“Those are pretty names.”

“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”

“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 

“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 

“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”

“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 

“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 

“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.

“I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 

“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 

Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 

“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.

“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.

“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.

“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 

“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 

“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”

“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 

“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 

“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 

“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.

“Little Djarin’s?”

“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 

“You’d want him to live with us?”

“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 

“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 

“Kids?”

“How many would you want?”

“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 

“Maybe five? Or six.”

“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 

“Or five.”

“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 

“How about three?” Three is manageable. 

“Counting Grogu?” 

“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 

“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.

“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 

You could always make parts of it real.

Someday. 

“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”

“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 

“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 

“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 

“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 

“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 

“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 

“We’ll manage.”

“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 

“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 

“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 

“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”

“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 

“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 

“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 

“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”

“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 

“It was a silent mutual agreement.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 

“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 

“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”

“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 

“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 

“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 

“Let’s start with one and go from there.”

“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 

“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 

“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”

“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 

“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 

“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 

You never talked about that night after that. 

When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 

It was just talk.

Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 

After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 

You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.

“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 

“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 

Kriff.

You never talked about that night after that. 

Maybe you should have. 

You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 

You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 

“I’d like to go to bed.” 

“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 

“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 

“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 

Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 

“Goodnight, Lysa.” 

“Goodnight, princess.” 

You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 

It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 

You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.

Just you, hopefully. 

☆

You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 

You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What the fuck can I do about it?

Mostly that. 

The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 

But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?

“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”

How morbid. 

Not that you’re above being morbid. 

You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 

The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 

It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 

It makes you want to poison his wine. 

But you don’t have poison. 

And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 

That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 

“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 

It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 

“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 

You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 

“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 

You don’t ask for any follow up. 

You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 

You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 

So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 

Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 

You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 

Lysa?

“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 

“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 

“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”

“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 

“Do you want to see him or not?” 

Din.

You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 

It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 

“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.

“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 

The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.

Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 

The wailing. 

Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.

“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 

“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 

“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”

Oh. 

“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 

“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 

Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 

She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 

“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  

Both eyes. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 

Oh gods. 

You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 

It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 

There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 

Maker. 

What have they done to your Din? 

You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 

Armorless. 

They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 

They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  

Did they see his face?

You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.

“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 

He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 

He assumes you're here to harm him. 

You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 

“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 

“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 

“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 

Technically no. 

But far better than he’s doing. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”

“How’d you get down here?” 

“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 

“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 

“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.

“I- I don’t want you to look.” 

You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 

“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.

You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 

You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 

You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 

You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.

And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 

Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 

No. 

It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 

You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 

“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.

“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 

“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 

“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 

“What else can I do for you?” 

“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 

If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 

“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 

“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 

“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 

“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 

“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”

When they separate his head from his body. 

“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 

The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 

“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 

What do you say now?

What do you say to a man condemned to death? 

“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 

“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 

“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 

“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”

“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 

“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 

Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 

Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.

The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 

“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 

“I’ll always be yours.” 

That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 

☆

It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 

You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.

There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 

Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 

He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 

After all, you're just a doll. 

You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 

And time blends. 

You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 

So you wake. 

And you sleep. 

And you walk. 

Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 

You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 

“Please, just a few minutes-“

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”

Din won’t live to see next month. 

“Is he eating?”

“He won’t let me-“

“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 

She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.

“I’ll make sure he eats.”

“Thank you.”

That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 

She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 

You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 

You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 

The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 

Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 

He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 

“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 

Your heart flutters at the thought.

They escaped.

Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.

“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 

God's you hope not.

Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.

“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 

So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.

They got out.

☆

You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 

They look miserable. 

All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 

A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 

The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.

Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.

“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 

“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 

The silver, shimmering contents. 

Din’s helmet. 

Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 

Empty. 

You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 

You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 

“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 

You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              

Huh.

It takes a moment.

You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 

Bloody and pink, a tongue. 

Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

You had loved his tongue before anything else.

He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.

You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.

Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 

“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 

No.

“Come on, where are your manners?”

Please. 

“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.

“What was that?” 

You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 

In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 

You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 

You have never been hateful. 

Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 

And the music starts. 

It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 

You move on to the next thing.

You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 

Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  

And it isn’t enough.

Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.

There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 

Maybe you are a hateful person now. 

You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 

You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.

Happy coronation day. 

You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.

☆

A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.

You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 

You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.

Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 

“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 

He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.

“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 

“I thought he’d reward me.”

You laugh. A harsh dry sound 

“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.

“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 

You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 

“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 

A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 

“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”

“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 

“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 

“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 

“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 

“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 

“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 

“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”

“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 

“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”

All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 

You barely look at them. 

You hate them. 

You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 

You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 

A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 

New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 

And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 

There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 

☆

The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 

Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?

You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 

For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 

Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 

You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.

Daisies. 

After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 

Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 

You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.

Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 

A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.

Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 

You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.

In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 

His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 

He’s a mess. 

You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 

He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.

Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 

“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 

He didn’t want you to look.

You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 

You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 

Fuck it. 

You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.

A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 

This is it. 

Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 

And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.

You had expected more. More time.

A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 

But no. 

There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 

That moment never comes. 

You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 

Just like that, he’s gone. 

When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 

In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.

The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.

☆

You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 

So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 

You scream. 

From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 

If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 

You shriek.

You howl. 

And you wail.

You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 

You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 

And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 

You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 

Your failsafe. 

With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 

Sarad’ika,

If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 

The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 

You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 

Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 

As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 

In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 

And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 

Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.

I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 

Be smart. 

You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 

So seek those things out. 

Be safe. Be happy.   

I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 

an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 

Din

All my love. 

You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.

Din, who was yours.

Din, who they took from you.

Who Kodo, took from you. 

And your grip on the knife tightens. 

☆

Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 

They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 

When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 

All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 

New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 

Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 

You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 

Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 

If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 

One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 

Another vase of flowers.

You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 

A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 

☆

Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 

Maybe it’s been three months. 

You aren’t sure.

You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 

And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 

You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 

“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 

You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 

“Wife?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.

What a joke. 

You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.

“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 

You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.

“You- you knew?”

He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 

“How long?”

“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.

He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.

Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 

“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.

He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 

You look him up and down, one last time. 

Your loving husband. 

One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 

I’m sorry. 

Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 

You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 

Be smart. 

You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 

He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.

You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 

How dare he look surprised by any of this. 

After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 

So you remove the knife. 

And you stab him again.

And again,

and again,

and again,

and again,

and again.

Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 

He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 

But it never comes. 

It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 

Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 

This was never going to bring him back. 

You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 

They won’t execute you. 

You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.

Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 

Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 

Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.

You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 

Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 

You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 

A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 

New Leo. 

Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 

A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.

So you hug him. 

You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.

“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 

You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 

And it clicks. 

All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 

And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.

“Din?”

☆

a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol

//

I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

[mikashisus]

Abandon Ship

"had i told the sea what i felt for you, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me."

— nizar qabbani

summary: With one of the Remurian fleets hot on your tail and stolen treasure of the crown on your ship, you were ready to take to the Eastern Seas.

When one of your crewmates catches a mermaid of all things on the outskirts of the Dark Sea, you finally think you’ve hit the jackpot when it comes to treasure.

In the end, however, you come to a startling revelation: is all the treasure in the world really worth more than a life? And suddenly, you have to make a choice… either a huge sum of gold, or the man you’ve fallen head over heels in love with.

pairing: mermaid!neuvillette x fem!pirate!reader

content warnings: angst, slight mentions of traff!cking (not detailed, dialogue centered), foul language, mentions of alcohol, violence, mentions of trauma, mentions of torture (not detailed, dialogue centered), blood and injury, and suggestive themes

other disclaimers: very canon divergent, takes place a few hundred years before the archon war, mc would have a pyro vision if this was post-archon war, mentions of other characters, use of ocs for plot purposes

regula solis epoch masterlist

ch.1 wc: 5.7k

author’s notes: it was about time i made a pirate/mermaid au, and who better to do it with than neuvillette.

originally, this was also supposed to include wriothesley, but after awhile of deliberation, i decided not to. instead, one of my ocs is gonna be a second lead to fill in the love triangle.

if u get attached to my oc, im sorry. dw tho, he also appears as a second lead in one of my venti fics ;)

CHAPTER 1

The Remurian ports were exceptionally busy in the late afternoons, when the sun was falling slowly over the ocean’s horizon and the cerulean waves lapped roughly against the wooden docks of the harbor. Deep oranges and enchanting pinks filled the sky as the sun cast a golden glow upon the faces of the passerby.

Merchants shouted eagerly, their voices overriding one another as they fought to ring in new customers. People from all walks of life filled the harbor, stopping briefly to awe at the wares being sold at the vendor stalls. The lively chatter echoed through the late afternoon air, accompanied by laughter and the occasional discord.

A family passed by, their thick accents revealing them to be desert folk from the lands ruled by the Scarlet King. They gawked at the gorgeous, finely handcrafted Remurian jewelry a vendor was selling. The vendor welcomed them with a warm smile and a friendly wave. Despite the language barrier, the two parties grew to understand one another through mere gestures and patience.

The heat from the bodies packed together in the vicinity and the warm Summer air did not help to alleviate your growing frustration. As you shuffled through the tight crowds of the busy harbor, someone shoved their way past you. You sent them a sneer and returned their sentiments with an elbow jab, before tipping your hat over your eyes and upping your pace.

As you walked, the golden feather on your belt jingled loudly, joined by the sound of the tiny silver bells adorning your boots.

A cool, refreshing evening breeze blew past, knocking your hat up. The sky was beginning to fade into a wondrous blue. The wind of the North appeared ever-present, causing a smile to break out onto your lips at the thought.

Wherever you were in the world, her protection hovered over you like a safety net.

The heels of your boots clacked against the cobblestone as you turned your attention back to the task at hand. All you needed was a few tools to fix a cannon.

The last ones you owned had been tossed overboard after one of your crewmates broke them in half due to his rather hardy grip. The matter was not one of utter importance, but you preferred to have working cannons at all times.

Thankfully, you knew someone in the harbor who would be more than willing to give you the tools you needed. Your eyes wandered the harbor, searching for the shop with a wooden fist as its logo. The tools shop could be easily visible during the day, but not so much at night. It was a relatively small shop; It branched off from the well known blacksmithing shop in the city.

One too many times have you paid a visit to the forgery owned by a man who was old enough to be your father. You spent way too many Summers in that forgery, hacking away at iron with one of his hammers and wiping the sweat from your brow.

The forgery was always scalding hot, putting even the most blazing Sumeru summers to shame. The heat always made you feel dizzy and dehydrated, as if you would melt into a puddle right where you stood. Stepping outside after a long afternoon’s work always felt refreshing. The fresh breeze felt like icicles on your scorching skin as you dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head.

You were lucky you never suffered from a heat stroke.

Absentmindedly, you kept a hand steady on your scabbard. Upon reaching the tools shop, you loosened your grip. The blade at your hip had not been pulled for quite some time, though you always kept a hand resting on its hilt.

After years of carrying it with you, you adopted a habit of staying on guard. It was a mere precaution your father taught you to take during your childhood when he first let you pick up a sword.

The excited chatter of the harbor began to dwindle as the sun fully faded over the horizon and the sky was cloaked in a blanket of blues and purples. The crowds that once took homage on the docks severed like the late afternoon breeze. Vendors packed up their wares for the night, and the loud hustle and bustle hushed into idle whispers.

The loud clacking of your boots against the pavement came to an abrupt stop as you eagerly greeted the man standing behind the counter of the tools shop. A warm smile graced your lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that this young man was the one manning the shop at this hour. The gods seemed to be on your side of the sails as of late.

“Mory!”

You tipped your hat in greeting and leaned your elbow against the wooden countertop. Your other hand came to rest in a fist on your jutted out hip. One of your legs crossed over the other as you let the counter support half of your weight. The golden chains on your hat jingled with your movements, as did the golden feather hanging from your belt.

“Business boomin’ today, I presume? Sure looks like it did.” You motioned to the small amount of tools missing from their display, and the diminishing crowd behind you.

The harbor was closing for the day. You were awfully lucky you arrived when you did.

The young man before you scoffed. “Not much, ‘m afraid, Cap’n.”

Mory Maye was a young man of only eighteen years old, with tousled dark brown curls on his head and striking hazel eyes that bore directly into your soul. His skin was perfectly kissed by the sun, a testament to the years of working harsh summers in the openness of his father’s forgery, as well as a depiction of his mother’s Sumerian genetics.

It was the very same forgery you worked in before your father taught you the ways of the sword.

His father, a kindhearted and deeply compassionate man who was undeniably loyal to those he considered his family and friends, was Tyler Maye; or, “Ol Ty” in the streets of the harbor. Due to the man’s ailing health, he assigned young Mory to take over the forgery for him in a few months’ time, when he would be leaving the comfort of his home to go stay in a hospital where his health would be monitored constantly.

His declining health and your time out at sea hindered your chances of visiting him. The man treated you like his own daughter, yet you would not be able to see him from here on out. Your status as a criminal blocked out any chances you had at possibly paying him a visit while he was in the hospital. Although it saddened you, there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

As for Mory, he occasionally worked at the forgery with his two brothers, Lear and Nicolas. When he was not working under the blazing sun at the forgery, he was manning this tools shop and selling wares to the same few customers who stopped by— one of them being you. It was practice for when he would take over both businesses.

His work at the forgery was evident in the calluses on his hands and his bulging muscles. Anyone could spot that he was a hard working boy that spent long hours refining weapons since he was ten years old. Many were more than impressed with his handiwork and physique— namely, the girls in the city that walked in circles around the shop just to watch him hack away at iron with a hammer you once used during your time working there.

One of those girls was the daughter of a nobleman that stopped by everyday to start idle chatter with him. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was deeply infatuated with him and was desperately trying to get his attention. She was akin to a lovesick puppy. However, she was incredibly soft spoken, and it did not help that Mory failed to realize her shy flirting time and time again. He was a little dense when it came to love.

“How long will you be ‘ere, Cap?” He questioned, watching as you placed a small bag of coins onto the countertop.

A sigh escaped your lips. “Not long, I’m afraid. Plannin’ to leave Remuria and head off towards the Eastern Seas pretty soon.”

A sound akin to a disgusted grunt left his mouth. His tone dropped down to a serious one as he made eye contact with you. “Better watch those seas, Cap. They ain’t kind… ‘specially since they’re close to that ‘Dark Sea’ the sailors keep talkin’ ‘bout.”

He wrapped a small set of tools in a bag made of cloth and took the gold coins you gave to him. He stopped short as he finished counting, “You gave me twice as much the price, Cap.” He sent you a confused glance.

A hand reached forward to ruffle his hair, messing his curls up further. A smile graced your lips. “Buy yourself that nice broadsword you been eyein’ from Idostin. Consider it recompense to Ol Ty for all that he’s done for me all these years.”

A small pink tint appeared on his cheeks, hardly visible due to his finely tanned skin. A bright smile broke out onto his face, revealing his pearly white teeth. He nodded curtly. From his relaxed shoulders and his giddy expression, you could tell he was more than thankful. “Thanks, Cap. I reckon I will.”

You nodded and sent him a pointed look. “And talk to that girl, while yer at it.” You took the bag of tools and tied it to your belt. “Ol Ty’s gonna start pesterin’ you ‘bout a partner soon. Hop to it before the naggin’ begins.”

Knowing that old geezer, he was more than likely already bothering Mory about the matter of marriage and finding a partner. Your own father used to do the same when you were Mory’s age.

The young man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. A frown made its way to his face. “I know Pop’s wantin’ to see me married before he goes, but I don’t wanna force myself. Plus, I got my whole life to find the right person. I…” he sighed, “I think I already have.”

The look he sent you said it all. For many years, you have known of his obvious crush on you. The time spent together in the forgery and in your father’s backyard refining your swordsmanship spoke of years of longing glances tossed your way and standing way too close for comfort. His jokes and laughter that permeated the air as you slacked off instead of working, his invites to the beach, and the gifts that he brought you— they all told of his feelings for you.

But you were too old for him, and he needed to know that.

Turning the boy down was never easy, but you felt as if you had to shout it in his face now for him to actually get it through his thick skull. The way his face fell, filled with heartbreak and despair, was also never easy. But it had to be done.

He shut his eyes tight, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. His brows furrowed together in hurt. As his hazel eyes opened to glance up at you with the look of a kicked puppy in them, you felt the guilt well up inside you.

“I know, Cap.” The hurt in his cracked voice did not help with the guilt you were already feeling. “I’ll talk to Lady Madeline the next time she stops by Pop’s forgery.”

Through your guilt, you mustered up a small smile and clapped him on the shoulder. For a young man with experience working in a forgery and muscles bigger than most boys his age, he winced at the impact of the smack. You didn’t hit him that hard, did you?

“Glad to hear it. I’ll see ya when the sea brings us back to Remuria.” You bid him farewell, the guilt from before leaving your veins as you began to leave the shop.

He returned your warm smile and waved high into the air. “May the North Wind bless your sails, Cap!”

The ship rocked carefully along the incoming tides on the edges of the shore. The sun had completely fallen over the horizon, long replaced by a blindingly white moon high in the dark sea of stars.

It was a quiet night. The sounds of water dripping from the ceiling of the cave and the soft chatter of sailors on the ship were a welcome melody. In the distance, a bird chirped as it flew through the cloudless sky.

Taking a seat on the edge of the ship and dangling her feet over the side, she listened to the soft gossip of the sailors working on the ship behind her. Before the captain returned, lots of work had to be done. The ship had to be thoroughly cleaned, everyone’s clothes were to be washed, a new import of fresh food and water had to be picked up from the harbor, and the small boy on board had to be fed and babysat.

She recounted the day’s events.

Before the captain left for the harbor, she helped in thoroughly cleaning the ship and fixing the cannons. The captain also helped out with retrieving the fresh goods from a friend of hers nearby. After all of that work was finished, she gave a few final orders to her crew, and disembarked on a small trip to the harbor to buy new tools to fix one of the cannons.

Leni let out a content sigh as she closed her eyes. It was the perfect night for a stroll. She had taken one earlier during sunset. It was a quick stroll, as she had to return to the ship and carry out the captain’s orders in her stead. Though it was only a few minutes, she was thankful for the respite from the constant rocking of the ship.

Although she had gotten used to being on a ship, there were times when she missed being on land and on stable ground. Months out on the sea were quite tiring. A small break from it to take in the Remurian Summer breeze was very much needed— not just for her and the captain, but for the rest of the crew as well.

In the distance, she spotted a familiar figure making their way towards the cave. She squinted, trying her best to make out the figure in the darkness. Upon seeing their hand wave high into the air to greet her, a bright smile erupted onto her face. She jumped up from her spot.

The sand was damp in the cave, causing your boots to sink as you walked. Due to the criminal record The Night Howler’s crew possessed, you had to dock the ship a safe distance away from Capitolium, Remuria’s capitol. That was why the ship had to be hidden in a grotto behind a waterfall. It was a safety precaution.

You walked up the sturdy wooden ramp leading onto the ship and greeted your crew with a tip of your hat. You placed your hands on your hips as

you began barking orders around the ship.

“All hands! We take to the seas in ten minutes!”

Letting out a sigh, you untied the bag of tools from your belt. Vincent, your main handyman on board, walked up to you. You placed the bag of tools into his large, callused hand.

He was a rather large man, with scars all over his biceps and a full beard that made him look older than he was. He was taller than most of the crew and acted as everyone’s big brother. Any heavy duty work was passed to him to handle. Out of the entire crew, he was one of the most reliable.

He took the bag and let out a heavy sigh. “‘M rather sorry ‘bout the tools again, Cap’n.”

He had a thick South Remurian accent that most of the sailors in the royal navy possessed. A majority of the South Remurian population had this accent, as did you and your late father. However, your accent was not as thick as Vincent’s.

A reassuring smile made its way to your lips. “No worries, Vin. Those ones were old anyway. We needed a new set.”

Some of your crew was idly standing by, chatting amongst each other as they prepared the ship. The loud clapping of your hands drew them out of their stupor, making them flinch. You sent them a pointed look as they turned to you.

“We leave in less than ten minutes! Do you lot not know the meaning of ‘get to work’? Or do I have to show you?”

They vigorously shook their heads and picked up their pace, preparing the ship faster than before.

“No, Captain!”

Your brows narrowed. “Then get to it!”

The sound of your yell prompted them to move faster. They scrambled along the deck to do as they were told. You turned back to Vincent with a sigh and an expectant look that told him to get moving. He did not need to be told twice. He cleared his throat and excused himself before shuffling his way down below the deck to fix that stubborn cannon.

A smooth voice permeated the air as your first mate sauntered up to you with her hands on her hips. “Look who’s back from the port!” She let out a giggle, “You sure know how to make an entrance, Captain!”

Leni, your first mate, had luscious black curls that were currently tied up into a high ponytail with a bandana. A few stray strands of hair fell to frame her round face. Her copper skin shone like bronze under the light of the lanterns littered around the ship. Her viridescent eyes were a welcome sight after the hours you spent in the harbor.

The sleeves of her tattered white blouse were rolled up to her elbows, exposing a few of the cultural tattoos dancing along her forearms. Two of the top buttons of her blouse were undone, and a beaded necklace lay flat against the curvature of her collarbone. A few golden bangles adorned her left wrist.

As she stopped in front of you, your shoulders immediately relaxed at her presence. You let out a huge sigh of relief and brought her in for a tight hug. The smell of saltwater and Sumeru roses wafted off of her person. They were a contrasting combination, but it comforted you nonetheless.

The two of you met during your days of working in Ty’s forgery, when the sun beat down harshly on your damp skin, and the heat from the furnaces made you dizzy. At that time, she was only a visitor to Remuria. She claimed to have been on vacation, but appeared to be by herself with no one to accompany her. With what little money she had, she asked you in her native language to repair her mother’s old polearm.

You didn’t quite understand what she said at first, but you could tell from her hand gestures alone that she wanted the weapon repaired.

With careful and precise work, you dutifully restored the weapon. You admired the finished work, complimenting the original craftsmanship of the handle, and the cultural symbols engraved into it.

Leni, with as much effort as she could muster, thanked you for your work in Remurian. To your surprise, she picked up the language quite quickly by listening in to the conversations happening around her in the city. You offered to teach her the language in its entirety, and she gratefully accepted.

You learned more about her family when she moved in with you.

Both of her parents had been born into a tribe in the Sumeru Desert. There, they were dancers who carried dual swords and practiced a sacred art passed down through many generations. At the time of Leni’s thirteenth birthday, her parents had passed away unexpectedly due to reasons that were unknown to you. However, with the way she spoke, you knew it most likely had to do with matters within their tribe.

In a hurry to escape, Leni fled the desert and sought refuge in Remuria, where she began anew after meeting you and your father.

Despite whatever she may have faced before you met her, you were more than grateful that she was here, standing tall in front of you with a blinding smile on her face and filled head to toe with enthusiasm. Her smile was always a welcome sight when you harbored any stress or worries.

Whenever she smiled, her eyes would close and crinkle together, dimples would dent her cheeks, and her small nose would scrunch up. She always showed her teeth as well, where you could spot a small gap in between two of her teeth on the upper left side of her jaw— supposedly from a time when she got a tooth knocked out of her mouth. She had freckles, too; They were just barely visible, but if you focused hard enough, you could see them.

Vincent returned from below the deck, wiping the sweat from his brow. He walked towards you, his hands covered in grease and the smell of gunpowder wafting off of his person.

“We’re ready for departure, Cap’n.” He told you. Before you could ask, he answered your unspoken question with a hearty smile. “Tha’ stubborn cannon is fixed, too. No need ta worry ‘bout it anymore.”

You returned his smile and let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Make way for the Eastern Seas!”

At your command, the ship began to take off, slowly rocking as it gained speed and disembarked from the cave. As it passed through the waterfall, freezing water poured over your head, drenching you head to toe. You let out a small laugh.

The cold water felt refreshing on your hot skin after spending your afternoon in the blazing sun. The nighttime air was brisk, though it was not cool enough to fully get rid of the sweat forming on the brows of your crew.

The ship picked up speed as it left the mainland, easing into a steady pace as the waves passed gently underneath. The ocean was calm tonight. It was a stark contrast to the raging storm you faced upon entering Remuria two months ago. The sails of your ship were blessed with a fairly serene voyage this time, it seemed.

As the wind blew, ruffling your hair, you noticed a look of contemplation on Leni’s face. She stood shoulder to shoulder with you, her hands on her hips and her chin held high. An aura of confidence radiated off of her. It was one that dared others to challenge her. The crease in her brow made you wonder what was on her mind. There was a subtle movement in her thin lips that looked almost like a tug at her bottom lip.

She had a habit of biting her bottom lip whenever there was something troubling her. That, and she would begin playing with the gold bangle on her wrist. At that moment, she reached for the bangle on her wrist and began fiddling with it. Immediately, you knew that something was worrying her. Before you could open your mouth to ask what was on her mind, she spoke.

“Where are we headed now, Cap?” She questioned, gently jabbing you in the side with her elbow.

“Inazuma.” A smirk appeared on your lips as you watched her verdant eyes go wide in mixed horror and surprise. “The land of the Narukami is a frightening one, but we’ll conquer it like we always do. Plus, I know someone within the merchant’s guild that would be more than willing to take that bounty off our hands.”

The wooden deck creaked under your boots as you retreated into the captain’s quarters. With a bit of hesitation, Leni followed. She allowed the door to slam shut behind the two of you. The cabin was encased in a brief silence, the only sound being the splashing of the waves outside your closed windows.

The bounty you mentioned sat on your table in the middle of the room, the pure gold and vibrant emeralds glittering in the light of the moon that filtered in through the glass window to your left.

The stolen crown of Queen Catalina weighed heavy on the ship like an anchor. The prized possession was worth more than the entirety of Mondstadt and King Remus’ treasure vault combined.

Next to you, Leni sent you an uneasy glance. “(Name)... is this really going to sell for a high price? It’s not even from Remuria… it’s from Western Mondstadt’s god king.”

Unlike you, Leni did not know much about the gods of other lands. She had been born into a tribe that worshipped The Scarlet King and the Goddess of Flowers. They did not have much knowledge on other gods— besides Morax, but that was an entirely different story.

As you approached the table, you reached for the crown and picked it up, being careful not to touch the emeralds embedded into the gold. This crown was the real deal, with authentic emeralds carved expertly to fit into the base, and a special engraving on the inside that spelled out the queen’s full title:

The god of memories, Queen Catalina Elizabeth Blair.

“It’ll sell for higher than the price we require,” you reassured Leni. “Do ya know how famous Mondstadt’s Queen is? She’s the firs’ god to ever roam the icy, Northern plains. The Thousand Winds themselves answer to her. Celestia favors her. That god king has the whole of the world an’ the heavens wrapped around her finger. Her stolen crown will land us a heap of gold— more gold than we’ll know what to do with!”

An exhausted sigh escaped Leni’s lips as she closed her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What beats me is why the crown was in King Remus’ treasure vault. Why is it in Remuria if it belongs to a god of Mondstadt?”

You let out a small scoff and gently placed the crown back onto the table. You shrugged and leaned back against the table. “Who knows? The gods are always at war. It was probably stolen by one of King Remus’ royal fleets after the Daybreak War that lasted a hundred years.”

The Daybreak War landed itself a spot in the history books in the wake of its aftermath. It was a notorious war spanning over an entire century, involving two relentless god kings: King Remus and Queen Catalina. It was said to have begun at daybreak, and ended a hundred years later at the very same time.

Historians claimed that almost half of Teyvat’s general population had been wiped out during the war, and that Celestia itself had to personally intervene before the two gods called a ceasefire.

It all began when King Remus attempted to invade Queen Catalina’s territory and disturb the peace and tranquility of the Northern icy plains of Mondstadt. He took half of her people under his rule, proceeded to treat them poorly, and took away any rights they had to their prior freedom. This act of defiance and unfairness severely angered the Queen of the North.

Talk that spread in the streets of every nation spoke of how the Queen’s wrath towards King Remus was enough to bring down the heavens, rip open the sky, and shake the very core of the earth. Her undying love towards her people and desire to regain their freedom was incredibly admirable. It was also extremely rare for a god to have that much kindness and compassion in their heart.

The Queen of the North called for reinforcements from the Thousand Winds, upon which they answered her calls. She emerged from the war as the victor. Her power and her strength was a force to be reckoned with, and the gods that roamed the lands of other nations were well informed not to pick a fight with the Queen of Mondstadt— lest they face retribution from the endless whipping winds.

Even Decarabian, the god of storms who resided in the opposite direction of the Queen’s territory, knew better than to test her patience. However, in recent years, he slowly began inching towards her land, and soon enough, he would begin to cross the border.

You awaited any news from the friends you had in Mondstadt regarding any signs of potential war. If another war were to unfold, you would be called back to your mother’s homeland to fight alongside the Queen and her knights.

The Queen of the North had your utmost trust and loyalty. If she commanded you back, you would go without hesitation.

The Night Howler, the ship you inherited from your late father, was a fugitive ship in Remuria. It was not only because you had stolen directly from King Remus’ vault, but also because you pledged loyalty to Her Majesty, his sworn enemy. However, you had no intention of returning the crown back to her.

You did not harbor any guilt, as you were already aware that she did not care for the item in the first place. You were free to do whatever you pleased with it. You could even keep all the money you received from selling it off.

A worried call from one of your crewmates drew your attention away from the conversation.

“Captain!”

You shared an uneasy look with Leni, before she rushed forward to swing open the door to the captain’s quarters. You followed her out onto the deck. The crewmate that previously called out to you handed you a spyglass. You took it without question and adjusted it as you held it up to your eye.

An involuntary groan of frustration left your lips. On the horizon, encased in a thin layer of fog, was a Remurian ship belonging to the navy. Its sky blue sails billowed in the wind as it sped across the restful waters. The intense glow of the moon passed over the shimmering golden crest of Queen Iris.

A chill ran down your spine as a breeze passed by. It served as a warning of the upcoming chase that was likely to occur.

A scowl formed on your face. Of the entire naval fleet of Remuria, the ship that had to be tailing The Night Howler was one of Queen Iris’. It seemed your luck was starting to dwindle.

Leni sent you an expectant look, to which you placed the spyglass in her hand. After a moment, a small gasp escaped her lips.

“Queen Iris. Of all people.”

A scoff left your best friend’s peach colored lips. She tossed you a glance filled with exasperation. “She wants the crown back for her King.” You couldn’t help but agree with her.

The infamous Queen Iris was the Southernmost ruler of King Remus’ territory, overlooking the Irenian Sea that connected Remuria and the ancient land of Natlan. Among King Remus’ four lords that were given a snippet of his power, Queen Iris was the most feared and wealthy.

The woman was strong-willed, strategic, and witty. She possessed the largest naval fleet of the four lords. Currently, the estimation stood at ten thousand men and women alike. She required the best of the best. Those who wished to join her ranks could not be seen as mediocre. They had to be perfect— no more and no less.

That said, the expectations and pressure she held over their heads was an inexplicable amount. Any sailor was lucky to not work under the devilish lord of the South.

And to be on opposing forces of Queen Iris was to be doomed with a fate worse than death itself. Lucky for you, you were smarter than the scrawny, brainless men she sent after you time and time again. You, on countless occasions, out-witted her fleets and sent them running with their tails between their legs.

Needless to say, you haven’t seen the same men twice. You could only assume they were disposed of after their failed attempts of dragging your ship and your crew back to their beloved Queen.

Instead of treating this like a life or death situation, you treated this like a game of cat and mouse.

Queen Iris liked to believe you were the mouse simply because your ship was smaller than her fleets, and your crew was not made up of trained soldiers. Trained soldiers or not, your crew was some of the finest swordsmen you have ever met. They outclassed Iris’ royal fleets anyday.

If Queen Iris wanted to play another round of this seemingly endless game, who were you to not entertain her? After all, you were used to being on wanted lists. She could try her scare tactics all she wanted, but you were well informed on her battle strategies by now. You had the upper hand.

Although she was given power by a god, it did not scare you in the slightest. She was not even half of what King Remus claimed to be. Neither he, nor his four lords scared you. The only god that did was the wrathful god that was Queen Catalina’s lover.

“Full speed ahead, men!” you yelled. “If it’s a game Lady Iris wants, then it’s a game the devil will get!”

The sound of laughter filled the air as the crew rushed around, preparing the ship accordingly as it lurched forward at the highest speed it could possibly go. You placed your hands on your hips as a smirk made its way onto your face.

Leni let out a sigh. “You’re enjoying this too much, Captain.” Her verdant eyes were glossed over with a tinge of annoyance for your behavior. You simply nudged her with your elbow.

“Am I? Come now, my dear Leni. The Queen is gracin’ us with her attention once more! This is more attention than any of those snotty royal navy boys will get from her in their lifetimes!” You wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into your side.

Another sigh escaped her lips. This one was filled with exhaustion. A smile tugged at her lips. “I have no doubt in your abilities to outsmart her, Cap. Lead us to victory once more.”

author’s notes: i know what you're thinking ... "ray you haven't finished your other fics yet!!!" I KNOW IM SORRY I PROMISE I'LL FINISH THEM 🙏 anyways, welcome to volume one of the regula solis epoch!! this is a fic series that takes place a few hundred years before the archon war and is very canon divergent. however, i'm going to try to stay true to the lore of remuria to make this more realistic!!

taglist — (open) ;

divider: @/cafekitsune

next | masterlist

#— ☀️ the regula solis epoch #— 🌊🐚 abandon ship #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #angst #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x you #pirate au #mermaid au #fontaine #genshin impact au

[dreadsuitsamus]

I have a request! Remember the scene in the movie where Paragus uses the shock collar on Broly? Well, can I request a short one shot where he uses the collar, & the reader comforts Broly when the two are alone? Maybe a timeskip to his battle with Goku, where he sees the reader & calms down upon remembering the kindness she showed him? Please??

author's note: i hope you've been enjoying these! i assume you're the same anon since my only requests have been broly lol i ended up feeling very lovey for broly as i wrote this, as you'll find out when you read! i'm not sorry for being a romantic sometimes :p i created a bit of a new species in this and may expand on it in the future! i didn't expand on it very much so i apologize! i also have changed the prompt just a tad, as far as the timing goes when Broly calms down. also i'm very tired but wanted to write this story so if things don't make sense i am very sorry

pairing: broly x fem!reader

warnings: parental abuse, shock torture (as it is in canon)

Solace | Broly x Reader |

Broly sits by himself in an empty room, having managed to get away from his father and his new acquaintances. His father had shocked him again, but he couldn't understand why his father couldn't see what that awful man was trying to do. Broly had never voiced it to Paragus, he hardly ever even wanted to think of it in his own mind, but he hated how his father used that collar on him, and in his heart he harbored those deep feelings of hatred.

He looks up when the door to the room opens, the light flicking on. He immediately looks away from the person at the door, but even in his sadness from being electrocuted again, he takes note of the attractiveness of the stranger.

"This is new." You murmur and step in, setting your chestplate down. "Ah... You're the guy from the cafeteria, right?"

"My name is Broly." He murmurs softly. "Is... This your room?"

"Mhm." You slip off your boots. "You can hide out here though. After what the old guy did, I don't blame you for finding a quiet place to yourself."

Broly's lips quirk to the side. He's not sure what to make of you. You seem to... Be on his side and not agree with his father's actions. Cheelai had also seemed to feel that way. Perhaps... His father was the one in the wrong?

It felt like a sin to think of his father like that.

"Thank you very much." He says after a beat, remembering to mind his manners on his own, for once.

"Don't mention it." You're in your blue under-armor now as you sit at your small round table with him. "You're the only company I've ever had in here."

"How come?" As far as Broly is concerned, you're kind and beautiful, and he would visit you all the time if he were someone living on this ship.

You chuckle to yourself, tapping your nails absentmindedly on the mahogany table. "Because I hate everyone on this damn ship."

"Oh." Broly frowns.

"Not to trauma-dump, but I was sold about ten years ago by my own father and haven't been home since."

"Your father? He... Sold you?"

"Mhm. I didn't even know you could sell a thirty-year-old that doesn't live with you, but he did it anyway."

"I'm sorry he did that." Broly's brows come together in a deep frown.

You laugh a little, and even with his lack of social interaction, Broly knows it's not because you find anything humorous. "It was that or be pillaged by the pirates that invaded us. They were eventually killed by Frieza and that's how I ended up working under him. I only wish to go home."

"... My father told me about my species growing up. He says we're a proud race of warriors."

You nod your head. "What are you?"

"A Saiyan."

Your eyes widen. "Wow. I can't believe there's more of you besides Goku and Vegeta."

Broly looks down at the table. "My father and I were told about... that... when we were discovered..."

"Ah, man... I can't say much about the Saiyans since I was so young when Frieza blew up Planet Vegeta, but I'm sure you would've been a good fit. You look every bit a warrior."

"Really?" He looks into your eyes.

"Sure. Big, tall, with muscles that could break anyone in two... You don't got the scary, pillaging personality though." You wink. "So as far as I can tell... You're a pretty perfect guy."

Broly's cheeks heat up and he could never explain why, but his eyes dart to your chest for just a split second, and you can see just a bit of red on his tanned cheeks. You laugh softly and lean forward a little. "Now that I think about it, have you ever seen a woman until today?"

"I... N-No." Broly mumbles, looking away.

"Hmm. You're an interesting fella, Broly."

"Thank... You?" He's really not sure if that's a good or bad thing, so he figures that erring on the side of using his manners will be best.

"Tell me about you. What's that green pelt you're wearing?"

Broly quietly launches into the story of Ba, of how he was his only friend and how his father ruined it for him. In fact, every story he tells seems to end with Paragus somehow destroying happiness for Broly. At forty-one years of age, it doesn't sound to you like he's ever had one day to enjoy life. And with how horrible that planet he was stuck on was, you weren't surprised. He'd been attacked every day!

Your heart feels a pang of sadness at his story. Oh how you wish to bathe him in the love of your home planet...

You smile a little and stand up, heading to your small chest of drawers and pulling out a small pendant. "I doubt you're gonna be on the ship long, I may not even see you again, so... Here. To remember me." You bring it to him, setting the small thing onto his large palm.

Broly looks up at you for just a few seconds, taking in your smile and sparkling eyes and wondering how someone could be so charming, before looking at what you've gifted to him. It's a small, golden, diamond-shaped pendant on a golden chain, an engraving in the center of what looked like an elegant flower.

Broly rubs his thumb over it. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you. The flower is the one of my people. It can only be found on my planet. I'm sure if I could ever go back home that they'd be everywhere, just waiting to be picked and used for decoration, cooking, medicine..." You look out the window, Broly studying how wistful you look. He wonders what it's like to have a home worth missing, that wasn't uninhabitable and didn't attempt to kill him every day.

Broly holds the pendant back out to you, but you gently close his fist around it and push it to his chest. "Keep it. I'll always have home with me in my memories. And my body." You chuckle softly and pull your undersuit down enough to show him a tattoo at your collarbone of the same flower. "The zantedeschia stays with me always."

Broly reaches his hand out, and you allow him to touch your tattoo. He gently traces the elegant, black outline. "You're warm." He mumbles.

"So are you." You murmur, looking into Broly's curious eyes as he traces the zantedeschia tattoo. "So is Albomaculata."

"Is that your home?"

You nod, putting your hand on top of his. "We're a beautiful species. Home is so lovely, so nurturing, so gentle and romantic and different from anywhere else... We're not fighters." You mutter. "I suppose we're the opposite of Saiyans. We're lovers."

"Saiyans love too." Broly counters gently.

You smile and brush some hair out of his face. "Hmm... That's an interesting thought."

There's a sudden commotion outside, and you hear the voice of the old man from earlier, who you've assumed is Broly's father. You look back at Broly and swipe your finger down his nose playfully. "Guess you'd better go, huh?"

Broly scrunches his nose cutely, but does stand and gently remove his hand from your chest, instead moving it to the shock collar on him. Fear strikes in his eyes. "I.. I should."

"Goodbye, Broly. I hope we meet again."

He moves for the door, and when he turns around one last time, all he sees is your naked silhouette bathed in the light of the bathroom. He blinks slowly, committing the beauty to his memory before stepping out of the room and finding his father.

Broly's been thrust into battle sometime after he parted ways with you, and he's lost himself in his rage. His father is dead now, and it's probably all his fault. Before him is Gogeta, the fusion of the only other full-blooded Saiyans left.

You watch from the ship, scared for your friend as he faces off against the new challenger. He's losing badly, and it's looking like they'll kill him. And god dammit he doesn't deserve to die like this.

You push the two lower-ranking soldiers away from the Dragon Balls, ignoring their protests as you make your wish to the giant green dragon.

"Save Broly and send us to Albomaculata!"

You close your eyes, and within a flash, you feel yourself surrounded by the warm air of home. You open your eyes and look around for Broly, praying you weren't too late. You then see the glowing form of your new friend, his body smaller now and close to his normal size.

"Broly?" You whisper.

Broly turns with a shout, in between the beast within and his normal, gentle self. You hold your hands up and he pauses, the glowing fluctuating. You take a shaky breath and carefully ease down the undersuit, revealing your tattoo to Broly once again. "Broly... The zantedeschia stays with me always. And it can be with you too... We're on my home planet."

Broly's wide eyes look around and he realizes he's surrounded by several zantedeschia of many colors, ones he's never even seen before in his life. The planet is vibrant and the air around him is so clean and lovely it's intoxicating. He finally relaxes into his base form, falling onto the field of flowers, breathing heavily and still looking around.

"How...?"

You kneel between his legs and hug him tightly. "I made a wish. Those Dragon Balls are pretty handy... But we're here, Broly. My home." You smile, tears in your eyes. "We're safe here."

"You saved me?" Broly whispers, his hand coming to rest on your tattoo again. It's a comfort to him, your warm skin underneath his palm.

"Of course." You murmur. "You deserved so much more... I could only imagine showing you life on Albomaculata. No pain, no suffering... Just beautiful things."

"You are beautiful."

You smile at him and place a blue and white zantedeschia in his hair. He feels hazy and blinks slowly, drunk at the effects of the flowers and the air, not yet used to the romantic aura of the planet. He looks at you and smiles with hooded eyes. "The... zantedeschia is... with me?"

"Yes. And I'm with you too." You whisper, rubbing his chest and coaxing him to sleep. And when he wakes, you'll show him all of the love and life and colors he's missed out on. Your heart is already giddy at the thought of being home again and sharing it with Broly, giving him everything he's missed out on throughout his life.

#broly x reader #broly x you #dbs broly #dragon ball #dragon ball super #dragon ball z #fem!reader #requests #anonymous #fic #this went differently than expected but #i just wanna love broly up #put flowers in his hair #dress him in a toga or something and pamper him #ugh i love that soft man #also how tf do i do a line break #i added a picture cuz i didnt know what to do

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

looking back, my experience in this fandom was mostly based on shipping jikook, reading conspiracy theory blogs, and mostly watching their moments, all of that was first for me, and BTS as a whole was secondary. I could say that jikook always kept me in this fandom, and I was waiting for concerts or other content with their "moments". I think that bts' popularity is partly based on the shipping community, just the fact that I knew bts members from wattpad fanfics long long before I joined the fandom

Yeah, that's something that just happens in kpop. 70% of the kpop experience is the content that's not related to music. There are so many groups that would sell only a couple of thousands albums if they were as inactive as Jimin... but I wholeheartedly believe that they sell that much because of their "close relationship" to fans.

The more time passes, the more of these groups exist. I genuinely can't believe anyone listens to stray kidz or NCT and enjoys it😭 but that's another topic. I'm sorry if anyone reading is a fan, but I just can't. They don't really perform well on charts, but still loyal fans will buy millions of their albums just to "support" them, and collect pretty pictures. It's not really about the music, and almost everything is about the fans liking the idols as people or entertainers, more than musicians.

Part of BTS popularity is definitely thanks to ships, and to the "ot7" agenda. The same as it is for literally every other kpop group on earth. After BTS blew up after winning their first bbma social award, they doubled down on the "we're a family we're so close" stuff. I'm not saying it was fake, but it was also a tool. The way two famous people dating will mean pr moves for both of them in spite of how genuine their love might be, BTS started putting their relationship as a group on the forefront of what being BTS meant, and it was also a pr move.

Bighit made a survey for fans in late 2017.

It was a study market but most of the questions weren't about music. There were a couple that were something like "what do you like about BTS" and relationship between members was one of the options.

I don't know if you were around, but here's a link where you can see the questions, since I can't find screenshots of the survey itself.

A moment that stuck with me was in 2018 when news said that Jungkook had bought his own apartment. Before that, there had been news about Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Taehyung buying their own places. Silence from the company. But when JK bought trimage, bighit immediately issued an statement denying it. Even though Jungkook did have his own place there 😭 but him being the youngest was sort of the glue that was supposed to keep the family together. Half of BTS lore is how Jungkook was raised by all the other six members. He couldn't possibly be independent.

A lot of that obviously goes under the radar because BTS music is actually good, or at least they had some outstanding stuff.

The 2020 - 2022 period was particularly "worse" in that sense... All there was to be enjoy was ships, and the members interactions or their "relationship" with fans. The music was bad, no tour, no performances in general, and the behind the scenes content was lacking too. The whole "we didn't want to do solo songs we wanted to sing all together 🫶" they pulled for their last concerts.. it was all about the same narrative of "being together". The LA and Las Vegas concerts were a whole other level of fanservice.

[l-1-z-a]

Q&A: Will Wright’s Artificial Intelligence - RollingStone

The king of the Sim Empire talks about 'BattleBots,' hungry ants and how he turns real life into video games

BY DAVID KUSHNER

SEPTEMBER 13, 2001

Will Wright RYAN ANSON/AFP/GETTY IMAGES

FOR THE PAST sixteen years, Will Wright has devoted himself to simulating the ultimate challenge: everyday life. The forty-one-year-old computer-game designer has put players in charge of micromanaging simulated farms, simulated ant hives, simulated cities and, most recently, little Sims themselves — artificially intelligent characters who sleep, eat, work and give back rubs.

The Sims won just about every major game award last year, in addition to selling more than 4 million copies worldwide and grossing more than $170 million. Wright’s gaming successes are due in large part to his fearless pursuit of the mundane: His cities have bad plumbing, his dinners need to get cleaned up and Sims must go to the john. Wright, who’s currently working on an online version of The Sims as well as some highly competitive remote-controlled fighting robots for the TV show BattleBots, hopes his games help people get a fresh view of their own lives. “I like the idea that games can change the player,” he says.

When you’re out and about, you must get people suggesting Sim games to you all the time.

You can’t imagine.

Any ideas stand out?

Sim Shopping Mall — that one had, like, fifteen types of people you’d see in the mall. It all had to do with teenagers and old people. It was pretty funny.

You’ve been competing in BattleBot tournaments lately. How’s that going?

Well, I’ve got this one I’m building now that’s going to be killer. It’s about halfway built, but I don’t want to name it until I’m done.

I’ve built a bunch of them so far. The first one was called Julie Bot. It had this talking doll’s head on the top — this was for the very first Robot Wars, and it won the lightweight division. The second year I did Kiddy Puff Puff, which wrapped the other robots in tape — that one won the middleweight melee. My daughter does robots, too; she made a Chia Bot. It didn’t do too well. It got flipped over, but it put up a good fight….

Pretty destructive compared to your games.

Yeah, but it’s really much more of a social thing. You get to meet a bunch of cool people who are strange like you. But it is cool for the robots to go in and beat the crap out of each other, too.

What kind of kid were you?

I was always building things: models, little inventions, airplanes, tanks, ships, then robots. The first robot I built was a little hydraulic arm made entirely out of injection syringes. I was probably about thirteen. A friend of mine talked me into buying a computer to run my robots, and that’s how I got interested in games.

What interested you about computer games?

What fascinates me is the ability to have a microworld inside this little box, a world that has its own rules and physics that you can interact with. The first game I made was one where you flew around and blew things up. I had to create little islands you were flying over. I was finding that to be much more fun than the blowing-them-up part. I thought it’d be cool if I could actually bring these little islands to life.

Why simulate real life?

In some sense, the computer can be thought of as an elaborate mirror when you’re running simulations on it. It’s not a perfect mirror, but, depending on the situation, you can exaggerate reality, distort reality, fast-forward through time or replay things over and over until you get them right. For me, it’s a new way of interacting with the world.

What influenced the development of The Sims?

It was the intersection of a few ideas: the work of urban planner/architect Christopher Alexander, who looked at how environmental design influences our behavior, and the behavioral modeling I learned from doing my game Sim Ant.

So humans don’t behave that differently from ants?

Surprisingly, I found that they weren’t that different [laughs]. In The Sims, if a character is hungry it will go near the strongest hunger source: the fridge, the barbecue. Ants do this, too. There was also another influence for The Sims: I started getting interested in time studies, where researchers try to map out how you spend every minute of your day. The results are fascinating.

In your games, people spend their time doing pretty ordinary things. How important is banality in your games?

In some sense, that’s what really drives the player’s ownership [of The Sims]. When you’ve laid every little water pipe or spent every hour of that guy’s life so far on your computer, you’re really responsible, and you can start empathizing a lot more with the city or the person. Things become so dependent on you that the whole gaming experience can become very guilt-driven. When this guy loses his job, for the most part, it’s your fault. If you’re dealing with The Sims in this mundane day-to-day life, then the epic victories are things very familiar — getting married, having a kid or getting a promotion — as opposed to defeating the evil empire in some other game.

How has developing all these Sim games affected the way you view the world?

I spend a lot of time looking for patterns. When we design simulations, “we’re trying to compress this huge data of reality into a few elegant algorithms. That’s also the path we typically take toward understanding the world around us: What’s the simplest explanation for this?

How about making Sim Game Developer?

I don’t think that would be nearly as fun as most people think [laughs].

#Will Wright #artificial intelligence #ai #battlebots #sims #the sims #interview #rollingstone #rolling stone magazine #rolling stone interview

[moku-youbi]

I didn't start this post as an album review a decade and a half too late...

But here we are. disclaimer that this is full of digressions and might not matter to anyone except for me. I'm not really interested in arguing about who does these things "better," like those critical at the time did. I love MCR just as much as FOB, and Green Day holds a special place in my heart, but lyrically Pete speaks to me the most, and guess what? I can love more than one band that does similar things for different reasons???

to this day, I do not understand how Folie a Deux was so roundly dismissed and/or hated on by FOB fans. Purists want to act like emo as a genre can't draw on or include anything else, which I've always found obnoxious as hell anyway, so maybe that's why I don't understand the hate. But it's particularly funny to me, because I think in a lot of ways this is one of the darkest albums lyrically with a lot of tragically, aggressively dismal outlooks from Pete on his mental health and suicidal ideation. It's some of his most honest, rawest truths, but because of the music it's set to, his fans accused him of selling out instead of listening to what he was saying.

Songs like "27" (so named for the infamous 27 Club, which Pete was just slightly past at the time of writing it), "(Coffee's for Closers)," "Tiffany Blews," "What a Catch, Donnie," "w.a.m.s.," "20 Dollar Nosebleed," and "West Coast Smoker," (over half of the 13 song album) deal heavily with themes of lack of self-worth, the vicious cycle of drug use to deal with depression(both legal and illicit), conflating mental illness with talent, lack of control over his own life, struggling with feelings ungrateful in the face of fame (what does someone so famous/wealthy/well-loved/good-looking have to complain about anyway, cry-baby?!), being accused of using his mental illness as a prop, or faking it for notoriety, unable to find a human connection or not being able to hold onto it when he does, and on, and on, and on, all laced through, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly, with this idea that he doesn't know how to continue living, wants something desperately to show him how to continue living.

It's someone screaming for help, and given that Pete later discussed much of the inspiration coming from his feeling of the inevitability of the band's breakup, it's no wonder. These things are lyrically explicit or discussed in depth in interviews: He saw Fall Out Boy as the thing that had kept him alive past 27 (Pete and his management legitimately thought he would not live past that age). He saw Patrick as someone he was very close to, who understood him, something he regularly says feels impossible to him (what a match/I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet). And he saw it falling apart (two songs acknowledge how tired they're getting in their first lines, "The (shipped) Gold Standard" and "20 Dollar Nosebleed" with Sometimes I wanna quit this song and become an accountant now/But I'm no good at math and besides the dollar is down and Have you ever wanted to disappear/And join a monastery, respectively). In "Tiffany Blews," Pete tells us he's A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A roman candle heart keep us far apart. He'd made it halfway through this transformation into something or someone else, maybe someone healthier or at least past self-destructive tendencies, and now he's stuck. He doesn't know what's coming next, but he needs it fast because he doesn't know if he can hold on for it. (Slightly off-topic, but I can't help but wonder how seeing Panic! at the Disco's split might have fucked him up over it even more--thank fuck things went much better for Fall Out Boy in that regard...)(If this is all getting you down, just remember the hiatus ended, and we have several beautiful albums that followed.) (Also off topic, but if you're an FOB fan and haven't listened to Pete's hiatus band's work, you are seriously missing the fuck out. I'll do a post on that later...)

But FOB fans are notoriously hard to please, something Pete acknowledges frequently on this album as well as others (on "She's My Winona" Patrick sings, Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you changed/Never the same person when I go to sleep/As when I wake up,) while simultaneously letting them know he doesn't give a fuck (All of "I Don't Care").

I mean, I get that it's not a perfect album, but it's so full of pomp and passion, with all these catchy, pop-y choruses that make you wanna sing along at the top of your lungs while racing through the city with windows down (yes, okay, I'm harkening back to Infinity on High, but "Bang the Doldrums" is one of my favourite songs ever, so...) Poignant and tragic or breezy and giddy or maybe sometimes just a little bombastic, but with style. It also is a preview of some of the internal conflict over creative control that led to their hiatus, and the lyrical and stylistic changes from the albums that came after it ended. You can almost divide FOB's sound into Before Folie a Deux and After Folie a Deux (others will argue that Infinity on High marks that change. I think it has a lot more in common with what came before than what came after, but that's just me. I could alternately see their career as 3 distinct eras with 1 being PR/EOwYG, TTtYG, FUtCT, 2 being IoH and FaD, and 3 being everything post hiatus thus far, but I digress even further...)

But there are so few artists out there that create an album with such a mishmash of songs and pull it off. I mean, the rock opera anthems, power ballads, funk, 60's and 70's pop and rock influences, and whatever the hell "20 Dollar Nosebleed" is (other than absolutely delightful, especially with Brendon's vocals in there merging beautifully with Patrick's)--ragtime? IDEK?

There's so much in these lyrics, from the self-aware struggle for authenticity given their wealth and fame ("Disloyal Order of Water Buffalo": imperfect boys/With their perfect ploys/Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy). Pete's self-destructiveness, tempered by impending fatherhood: ("She's My Wyonna:" The only thing suicidal here is the door/We had a good run/Even I have to admit/Life's just a pace-car on death/Only less diligent/Hell or Glory/I don't want anything in between/Then came a baby boy with long eyelashes/Daddy said, "you gotta show the world the thunder!"), and maybe bitterness over the mockery made of his suicide attempts ("West Coast Smoker:" Don't feel bad for the suicidal cats/Gotta kill themselves 9 times before they get it right.) The politically invective ("20 Dollar Nosebleed:" The man who would be king goes to the/Desert the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said/We won, oh, we won). The absolute tragic (All of "27," really, but starting off rough with, If home is where the heart is/then we're all just fucked/I can't remember.) And the just plain fun ("w.a.m.s.:" My head's in heaven/My soles are in hell/Let's meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well, and the absurdly whimsicality of "20 Dollar Nosebleed's chorus," Ba ba ba ba Benzedrine, bla bla bla Benzedrine/Ba ba ba ba ba Benzedrine, ahh.

I understand how scary it can be as a fan of a particular musician or band when their sound changes. I get it in a very profound way I'll touch on later in a different post, because this one is getting out of hand. But if we insist on our artists never changing, then we're just going to stagnate right along with them. Growth and change can be painful, but it can lead to beautiful things. Folie a Deux was Fall Out Boy going through growing pains, as individuals in their personal and professional lives, and as artists, both together and separately. I am as thankful for it as I am for everything they've created and shared with us. Even the few songs of theirs that aren't to my tastes. Either you accept that you aren't interested in authenticity so much as playing to your expectations, or you can't yell at them about betraying you.

#fall out boy #folie a deux #pete wentz is the lyricist of my heart #and Patrick the singer #even if I don't always understand what Pete means #or what the fuck Patrick is saying

[the-firebird69]

We nearly blew the budget no we had it and I still do and we have what we're doing down pat and we have other recommendations as the things to do with our time we have found a plant and it is for our father Apollo and mother goddess wife of Apollo and we're currently speaking to them it's in Pennsylvania and it's good and they are negotiating with us over there one factory it's not a huge one this is pretty big but it's not huge :-) it's kind of small they produced about a million candy bars a year out of it but you can't produce probably 10 million a month if you really pressed but other than that you're a capacity. So we're talking to them about it and we know where it is and what we're going to make and they don't want us to divulge any of that and we're not divulging the name of the company. And we're going to proceed it's not a small amount of money they were buying it for but it is worth it and it is a Hallmark of chocolate areas and it will be fantastic honestly goodness this is going to be the greatest thing almost we've ever done and we do understand why the location now but it's analogous so he's not really thinking that he's calling us we can and we hear the phone ringing and by the way it's for a lot of money to a lot of people it would seem like a lot of money and most people don't have this kind of money it's not hundreds of millions okay and they are bursting out laughing but really people don't know how much things cost these days so it's not funny but we think it is a little bit funny and they want to know how and all that but he's the original recipe of what we're doing and we don't want to talk further about it but it's going to be wonderful

Thor Freya

What a wonderful day and we knew about it and we knew it was coming and it's terrific and we're going to start it's a beautiful day I can't wait finally. We also have another company we're making and it's a completely non-alcoholic alcoholic wine company and some liquor and other alcohol drinks only beverages and I'll tell you what we already have orders for odd ones Brandy and cream to mint and things like that and they say they want to add their own alcohol and that's fine that's what you used to be used for back in the day because you would have a mixer that's what they call it and you would mix it in and you spike it the way you want it a lot of people like it a lot stronger than other people and when you spike drinks that are made with it it doesn't mix well and sometimes it ruins it usually you can't taste it at all so we're going to send it out and we'll make taxis and we'll make margaritas and we're going to make beers and people want to spike their own beer it's a regular plastic beer it's only going to be $12 a case or so but it's not cheapo Depot like they're coming out with their beer is going to be very inexpensive and it's world famous already it's all over Germany they're making more beer than they can possibly produce it is starting to say it it's everywhere already and he says he's got about 3 billion square feet and Europe is small that's funny so now people are wondering what is this Ackerle stuff, and they're buying the beer and it's going to the beer holes it's going to be global after that cuz they take pictures and send it and there's a certain outfit and the people show up with like older trucks and they wear the outfit and he wants to make a salamander with the old truck look with a German old truck look for Germany and Europe I started doing it people thought he was nuts and now they just think that he's selling tons of beer he's asking Jason if he's moving any of his coffee he says he's not doing coffee he wants to know how much I want to move I don't know Jersey.... Is winking and blinking it says are we okay this is we're not dead yet so we're going to head with it he says he can ship about 500 million cases so I'm asking how much is that so he says that's what we're going to buy and he says bye-bye and I said bye-bye isn't that it's about to hang up by hills bye-bye it was okay Mr Federman. Hangs up and he sends the note means the money and he says don't call me that again that Phentermine name so I send a note back says okay since it says okay what okay I won't call you that federman name LOL I said back after he sent hahaha

So you got to stop this right now sleep you almost empire everybody put away your marijuana and your drugs and your beer money... So that's not the way I am but stan interrupted and said knock it off so we're not drinking beer here.

So he has a license to import and he's importing it under the license he's just going to fly it in and will accept it and it'll bring like 2,000 idiots so that's how we're going to get the stuff. So we're going to accept more I'm calling him he's going to bring a ton in to Jersey we don't want to sitting in Jersey too long now he's laughing now this stuff is going global already and so damn it expensive you can't get it anywhere that cheap our son says you have to keep it out of Germany and keep it coming out of Germany for at least 3 days and that was Mac beforehand and Jason before there and we probably have to build another plant so we're going to have to decide where it's going up and it'll probably be Pennsylvania that's what it is that Pennsylvania German Pennsylvania Dutch they're going to Pennsylvania good God so we're looking at it we need a mega plant so he says that's not too hard we know where that would be like Wisconsin that's true too in their country we're going to erect it in beer country and we're going to text elements in the water and make it the same or less it'll be within a few nutrients and people are amazed cuz that's a great idea and it's a German technology by the way take it all out and put back where it's good I'm going ahead with us now and say they're going to sign BMW tonight which is tomorrow to them and we agree that's a good it's a good idea and we planned on it and Porsche will be later but really they don't build Porsche anymore and we do but they're going to sign it over. And there are many other companies when are you going to sign the company is over to me that are mine alone. So we started laughing he only has like two there are his alone and it's truly says. And really they're they're only a few that are just his idea Hera is sharing and she says no way and she's thinking the company so she's thinking of a couple he's thinking of one can't get past it and can't think of any others and use kind of landed himself and kind of nurtured brought up put together cuz he thought Bob would help and Bob disappeared and nobody picked it up they just want a crappy game or couldn't do it does John c Reilly who picked it up that's Dave he couldn't do it couldn't do the business and it was our son who couldn't do it so he understands it. He says we couldn't do that to you and what he says is maybe later on and it's really symbolic you know and although he's trying to do stuff with it. It's got a bunch of ideas and they're not really strange they're just a bit old-fashioned he wants to have rallies and meetups and clubs and all sorts of things that hard knock and a list of restaurants that are accepted by her not kicker 5150 and Dan wants to do a list he says I don't know who you check with. So we might try to deal with them is listed a few places and they're decent and we know how to do it and we're going to list like A Hard knock kicker 5150 magazine and in it would be the locations that would be like on a route that's what they call it it's a ride route and we do meetups and you read of organizer you can donate to at the meetings cuz nobody doesn't online that's ridiculous and he can organize other meetups and boy doesn't there's a lot of things you can do cuz there's nothing to do out here it is stagnant and this other models of bikes and and ways to change them and waste of modify and it's all stock and waits to increase the speed and there's a speed tracks drag tracks all sorts of fun stuff you can do the dirt tracks too some of these are set up more or less sportster dirt track type thing, you want us to make an additional item a sidecar so we could do a sidecar racing with the old book and there's a ton of people who do that and like it and this one that rides by everyday and he says it's a way to make it safe leave the wife at home so they're all laughing about and laughing and she goes yeah we can detachable so they can go spending off like Darth Vader

They said no and get off the line. Even if Dan did a county that would be good because like an area or like an area not even a county, don't put right in the magazine the free advertising for a month your company for putting in a route and sites along the way and restaurants and it's a ride and we'll start it in Florida and we're going to acceptance offer and he wants a 2x5 cm and he says no inches is it okay that's cool it really is construction you know people ride motorcycles and construction. His others were offering and they do windows they sell windows that is and some cell boats and somehow roofing materials and we're saying that's great and remember it's a hard knock kicker 5150 meet up type magazine it's for people who meet up and want to ride together and it's also about the motorcycle company and the motorcycles and their stories you can submit a story and this is a magazine companies do for stories it's better than your advertising but you can do the advertising too and stuff and money and things like that it's a real it's going to become a real magazine and we want to start it based in Florida so I want my husband to ride something other than bicycle is messed with all the time he says the blessing is going to cost more electricity but not much more than that other tire this might save my rear end oh God so much it's not going to be much doesn't weigh anymore and it's not more of a pool to save the rear end so we're getting on to this show and we're going to go ahead and do this it's a neat idea and we're going to use meetup.com and help my husband it went sour and people saw why it's going to be great and it's hard knock is a great way to introduce it back we're going to ask meetup.com if they want us to advertise or work out some sort of deal because we want to we want to use their service to try and sell and they said yes that's a great idea and they know how to do it and you have to make a meet up and you have to show up and people will get interested and doing different rides is a great way to do it so we have all these rides in the magazine and then you can do a meet up and switch off on each one and you call up the organizer or the person who made the ride and you tell him about it that's a great idea and you have a little office we'll have to make a little office for the magazine and have like a little store eventually so they like it cuz it's not really going to be exclusively hard not kicker 5150 ride but the magazine will probably just call it hard knock and and then underneath the coffee I'm not kicker 5150 magazine and people like it that kind of thing too and you have the colors on there and everything red white and blue I think I'm going to try and start this you want to do it with me and have fun and wear chaps he wants to make a dungarees chap and people wear mostly dungarees but you make it like out of like a real tough material it's not leather I kind of breeze a little they have that material to say and make it dungaree recolor so he's thinking a weird stuff right now

Hera Zues

Haha dungarees over dungarees and safe and safer than safe it's a good excuse cuz he would hide that you're wearing caps and the chaps could actually have gear in them and some people some people do that so we have hide it you can have a dungaree jacket too that has gear it doesn't look like you're wearing gear and hard not kick your 5150 is that kind of club so he thinks he's getting something very osmosis and he really is so we're going to put this together

Thor Freya

He wants to do that but we see what he's saying it's kind of his company he's wanted to do this idea for a long time and we're going to help do it and he loves it and he wants people like Us his family and the other side of the family and and the other leaders who are friends and still father and mother she's getting involved and to pick a spot starting in Florida and we're going to work on different states then we'll work on a different countries and they said that's interesting that kind of an American company but they want to do it and they know how fast it grows pretty pretty quick so they're going to get it together

Olympus

[miraculoustails]

I do not ship Byler. Will deserves so much better than Mike. Sure the relationship between El and Mike is very pushed to the side this season, but they do very much love each other. Mike has only ever been a jerk to Will. I want Will to find a boy that loves him just as much as he loves him.

I also, do not like Eddie. He had no personality, no future goals. His only real moment was with Chrissy. His death was completely pointless and stupid. He deserved so much better than what he got. But he also wasn’t a perfect person. He was well into adulthood, selling drugs to kids/teens. I don’t get why everyone loves him. He was set up to die from the start. It was glaringly obvious. The way they handled it was very disappointing.

I think they really shouldve gone through with killing a main character. Don’t get me wrong, Max should not have died. She’s a child, working through her ptsd and intrusive thoughts. She is traumatized beyond belief. They all are. This was her season. The actress absolutely blew me away. They should’ve stuck with it, when killing a kid though. They wanted to emphasize El lost. That this was a devastating failure. 22+ people died because she couldn’t beat Vecna. Imo, Mike shouldve died. It would’ve made Eleven FURIOUS. She and Will wouldve gone absolutely off the rails. He’s the heart right? So take it. Break their hearts. Make them lose all hope. MAKE it dark if you want ppl to feel it. Nancy would be devastated and blame herself, believing she shoudve been there to save him. And thinking how she wasnt there for him, or for Barb. She wouldve lost her mind, pushed everyone away. Finally be shown as her own person, blow off One’s head. Just soft killing Max is pointless. It gives no motivation to the mcs, and shows that even when they lose, theyre still the invincible mcs

Season 4 was a pretty good season, plot wise. But the characters, theyre being shoved aside. New characters are getting thrown in with no personalities, other than their “one trait”. Eddie being “a freak”. Argyle being a stoner. And all the current characters are losing all growth and becoming 2D. Mike is mean. Will is gay. Lucas wants to fit in. Eleven is a “monster” who’s actually a “hero”. Steve is in love with Nancy. Nancy’s a scared girlboss. Johnathon’s hiding through being high. Dustin’s just obsessed with his role models. Max is traumatized (the most personality in all the characters tbh). Joyce is scared for Hopper. Hopper wants a happy ending. They’re all describable in one sentence. It’s yikes. Hopefully they take the time to focus on the characters this last season. Especially since theyre splitting the big boss fight into two seasons. I really enjoy the story, but i have to agree that the characters this season, only disappoint

#unpopular opinion #stranger things 4 #stranger things

[willowcrowned]

okay here's a qui-gon: the one in canon is Like That (disobeying the council, going off about the sith, betting on random podraces) because he's been universe-hopping and timeline-looping for so long that it's really hard to pretend to give a shit anymore. Is this a universe where Mace Windu becomes a sith? Is this a universe where Yoda creates a million clones in the hope of saving his species that gets co-opted into an army by the senate? Is this a universe in which Obi-Wan is destined to become Bail Organa's trophy husband? Who knows! certainly not him, and he's tired of trying to figure it out. he's just vibing.

cw: suicidal ideation, actual suicide (but not permanent)

Qui-Gon is not having a good time here.

-

The first loop, they land on Tatooine. Qui-Gon barters for parts with Watto, and when that fails, he steals them, promising to come back for Anakin and Shmi. The hutts blow up the queen's ship before they're out of the atmosphere.

At the beginning of the second loop, he thinks he dreamt the whole thing. The Federation's ship is eerily similar, but he is a Jedi. Precognition mixing with dreams isn't unlikely, just uncommon. Then they're attacked, and the words coming out of Obi-Wan's mouth are the same as before, at the same intervals, and he readjusts. A vision, then, sent by the Force to stop his desperate, doomed bid before it ever happens—to make sure he comes back for Anakin.

This time, he sells his sabers. The hutts—and everyone else with a grudge against Jedi—get word of it before they get off the planet. The ship is shot down again.

The third loop, Qui-Gon thinks it's a vision from the beginning—a sign that there is no way off Tatooine for the queen. Instead of leaving Tatooine, he sends the queen to the gungans, and tries to negotiate with the Federation.

They kill him and Obi-Wan where they stand.

The fourth loop, he goes through the motions, repeats the words, but he begins to wonder if it's really a vision at all. This time, he and Obi-Wan go back to the gungans with the queen. They form a plan to retake the capital, and it works—almost. The droid ship is never destroyed, and the gungans are slaughtered. They take the queen hostage, and kill civilians in front of her until she signs the treaty. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are next, killed by a warrior in black.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh loops, Qui-Gon keeps trying to get the invasion right. He sends Obi-Wan up with the ships, and then he goes up himself, and then he sends both of them. It doesn't work. They die, or the queen is captured and then they die, or one of them dies, and then the queen is captured, and then the other.

The eighth loop, Qui-Gon goes back to Tatooine. This is not a vision—how can it be, when he's felt his own death, Obi-Wan's death, so many times? It's something different—a gift from the Force.

He goes back to Tatooine. Something there must be the missing piece. He listens to Anakin more closely this time, pays more attention.

Qui-Gon bets on the pod races, and loses. The warrior in black finds them before he has to hand over the ship. Qui-Gon watches the queen be taken away as he dies.

The ninth loop, he goes back to Tatooine. This time, when he bets on the races, he wins every gamble. They get off Tatooine, return to the temple, and then go back to Naboo.

The droid ship isn't destroyed, and the plan fails. Back to square one.

The tenth loop, he brings more Jedi to Naboo the second time—pilots for the droid ship, warriors to fight the zabrak. The droid ship is destroyed, the queen survives, the warrior in black is destroyed.

Thirteen years later, the Republic falls at the hands of Mace Windu—the very Jedi who killed Maul. Qui-Gon dies by his hand.

The eleventh loop, Qui-Gon wakes up and swears furiously. It's not enough that he's stuck in this unending cycle, not enough that the Obi-Wan he knew—the man who hadn't been his padawan for thirteen years—is gone, but the Republic is in the hands of a sith lord, and Qui-Gon, who is thirteen years and change older than he should be, is the only one who knows about it.

This time, when he brings the Jedi back to Naboo, he makes sure that he's the one to strike the killing blow on Maul. He gets a red lightsaber between the ribs for his trouble.

The eighteenth loop, Qui-Gon manages to keep Mace from falling. Obi-Wan falls instead. He dies by Qui-Gon's hand.

This loop, Qui-Gon lets the clones shoot him. Back to square one.

The twenty second loop, Qui-Gon remembers Anakin. The droid control ship goes down easy, Mace kills Maul, and Qui-Gon takes Anakin as an apprentice that night. Obi-Wan doesn't talk to him until Geonosis. He dies in the arena. Qui-Gon barely puts up a fight when Dooku goes for his head.

The twenty sixth loop, Qui-Gon rescues the queen, goes to Tatooine, frees Anakin (but not his mother), and argues with the council over Anakin's fate. This time, he decides not to tell them about his visions of Naboo. He and Obi-Wan argue on a balcony, and oh, no matter how many times he does this, no matter how many Obi-Wans he grows to know, it is still strange to see this Obi-Wan, still unshaped by the galaxy.

It would be worth it, Qui-Gon thinks, to end the loops, to find out the formula, if it meant he didn't have to leave another Obi-Wan behind.

He dies with a lightsaber through his chest, Obi-Wan stuck behind red gates.

The twenty seventh loop, Qui-Gon never lands on the Federation ship. He finds the closest smuggler's haven and gets horribly, horribly drunk. He dies with a knife in his back the next day; he never paid his tab.

The eighty third loop, Obi-Wan leaves the Order after Naboo. When the Empire rises, he survives it as Bail and Breha's... special friend. If Qui-Gon knew how to be glad any more, he would be glad.

The one hundred and ninety fifth loop, Yoda clones himself. Qui-Gon would contemplate suicide if he thought it would help.

The two hundred thirtieth loop, Qui-Gon thinks he's done it. Obi-Wan is alive and happy and talking to him. Anakin left the Order gracefully, and has twins with Padmé. Ahsoka, who he got to know in loop one hundred and eight, is going on awkward teenage dates with Barriss, who never blew up the temple. Mace is nowhere close to falling. Palpatine is dead. Shmi is alive. Dooku is redeemed.

It doesn't mean anything. He knows every person, every one of their idiosyncracies. They don't know anything about him. How can they, when he's been alive this long?

When Qui-Gon dies, he hopes desperately for a real death, as he has for thousands of years.

The two hundred thirty first loop, Qui-Gon wakes to see the Federation ship in the distance.

#sorry this got so... terrible #i did say i would love to see him crumble!!! #well he's sure crumbling #andy i audibly gasped when i saw this asked #i ADORE a time loop #it was actually pscoptera's a duel with fate that got me into the sw fandom in the first place! #star wars #star wars au #willow's aus #qui gon jinn

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) Fives x Reader: My Star

   (Author’s Note:  What a week.  I’ve tested positive for coronavirus and am under quarantine.  The last few days were soooo frustrating because I had all this time to write, but felt too crappy and drained of energy to produce anything!  Well, today I finally made something happen, and I hope to write some more in the next week or so depending on when they summon me back to work.

This fic had me sitting here with a dopey smile on my face, so I hope you enjoy it)

   You snuck a glance over your shoulder, ensuring that no one from camp was following.  The evening was relatively quiet except for the occasional chatter of troops.  It was getting late, so some were starting to turn in for the night.  The glow of campfires shone around the boulders that were scattered across the stony ground behind you.

   The air held a chill that would have caused you to shiver if not for your cloak.  You pulled the dark material tighter around your form as a cold breeze moved through.  It wasn’t long before you reached your destination, a small clearing that was just far enough away from camp to not be spotted.  Just as you set foot in the space, a shadow on the right caught your eye.

   The familiar presence filled your senses, and you smiled.

   He was right in front of you, raising a gloved hand to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger gently.  “There’s my favorite jedi,” he murmured.

   “Fives.”  You reached up to take his other hand in your own as you met his affectionate gaze that was complemented by a warm smile.  “You’re here early.”

   “So are you,” he pointed out, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.  “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

   “Hm, me too.”

   “It felt like we’d never get this...to finally be alone again.”  He pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, making you melt into his embrace.  “Although I have to say it’s nice to be on a campaign with you.”

   “True,” you agreed.  “It’s better than being on the other side of the galaxy wondering and worrying.”  You leaned in to kiss Fives again, sighing as he returned it.  Both of you were reminded of those times you had missions apart, and it made this moment all the more special as he held you so tightly.  His ARC trooper armor wasn’t the most comfortable, but you couldn’t care less.

   “I brought you something,” you told him, pulling away to reach into the pocket of your robe.  You showed him a bundle wrapped in preservative paper.  Even though the baked treat wasn’t hot from the oven anymore, it still carried a delightful scent.  “I thought it would be a nice change from the usual rations.”

   Fives’ eyes lit up and he unraveled the baked treat to inhale its scent.  “Where did you get this?”

   “There was a stand selling these on Coruscant.  I picked one up before we shipped out.”

   He took a seat on a nearby boulder, patting the empty space beside him.  “Split it with me?”

   “I brought it for you, Fives.”

   He gave you a playful nudge as you sat down next to him.  “It’d make me feel better if you had some too.”

   “Alright, alright.  Just a piece.”

   He took the first bite, sighing at the flavor.  The look on his face was rather priceless, and you tried to conceal your giggle with your sleeve.  Of course, the realization that he amused you only fueled him even more.  He shot you a sideways look and took another bite, letting out an exaggerated groan that caused you to burst into laughter.

   “What?”  He feigned innocence as he mumbled through a mouthful of the sweet bread.

   “You are something else, Fives.”  You chuckled and leaned over to take a bite.

   “But you love me for it.”

   “That, I do.”  You leaned against his side, eyes fluttering closed as you exhaled.  Sounds of the night around you flooded your ears.  Chirps and pebbles being scattered on the rocky ground with each breezy gust sounded.  Fives had finished the snack and was simply enjoying your company.  You focused on each relaxed breath he took, the chest plate of his armor rising and falling gently.

   “You know,” he spoke up.  “I’ve been in space so many times.  Been on so many planets.  I never get tired of looking at the stars.”

   You glanced up to see his face lifted toward the night sky.  You followed his gaze to admire the dark canvas decorated with twinkling lights.  He was right.  No matter how many times you’d seen them, they never got old.

   “There are so many out tonight.”

   He hummed in agreement.  “I’m lucky.  I’ve got one sitting right next to me.”  He looked back down at you, lips quirking up in that charming smile of his as your cheeks grew warm.  You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you merely leaned up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.  You pulled away to take in his tender expression before pressing your lips to his again.  His gloved hand trailed along your jawline to the back of your neck to draw you closer, sighing when you responded.

   “Fives,” you breathed against his lips.

   “Yeah?”

   “Nothing.  I was going to say something cute, but forgot.”

   You felt him smirk and stroke your cheek with his thumb.  “Come on, you didn’t forget.  Let’s hear it.”

   You chuckled, lowering your head a bit in embarrassment.  “I was going to say that you’re my star and I never get tired of looking at you.”  Finally, you lifted your eyes a bit to see him grinning back at you.  “I know, I know.  I tried.”

   “That was a good one,” he offered.  His tone would’ve been more convincing if that cheesy grin wasn’t still plastered on his face.  Still, there was no missing the look of endearment in his eyes as you tried to hide your face in his shoulder again.  “No, really, that was sweet.”

   “Oh, I’m sure.”

   He tipped your chin up, the grin replaced by a softer look.  You pressed a kiss to the patch growing on his chin before meeting his lips once more.  

   For a while, the two of you talked about different things.  The mission at hand was the subject of conversation for only a few minutes before you moved on to other topics like some of the cultures you’d visited and foods you’d tried. You shared funny stories and listened in amusement as Fives shared some of the mischief he’d witnessed in the barracks with pranks and whatnot.

   The night grew colder, and soon it would be time to get some sleep.  You didn’t want the time to end, but eventually troops might notice his or your absence and ask questions.  You’d still get to sit across from Fives at one of the campfires and see him, but it wouldn’t necessarily be the same.

   “We should head back,” he whispered, planting a kiss to your forehead.

   “Yeah, we should.”  You nodded.  “This was fun.”

   “Sure was.” 

   A groan left your lips as you stood to your feet, your rear cold and achy from sitting on the boulder for so long.  You stretched and watched as Fives did the same.

   His gloved hand went to your waist to pull you in for a final kiss, but you held onto him tighter and returned the token of affection with eagerness.  The spark flared up as he then moved his lips against yours over again.  Finally, he pulled away, breathless.

   “You make it so hard to leave,” he chuckled.

   You gave him a peck on the cheek.  “Well, so do you.”

   Both of you separated, and Fives stepped aside to let you return to camp first.  He’d follow shortly after to not raise any suspicion.  As you went back the way you came, you stole a glance over your shoulder and blew a kiss at the ARC trooper who stood watching to make sure you made it back safely.

   “Hey ________,” Echo’s voice made you jump the moment you entered camp.

   “Oh, hey Echo.  You startled me.”

   He gave an apologetic smile.  “Sorry.  I was just wondering if you’ve seen Fives?”

   “I just saw him.  He should be around here somewhere.”  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly admitting that you’d had a secret meeting with said trooper. The answer seemed to be enough for Echo because he simply gave a nod and continued on his way.  

   Moments later, Jesse waved you over from a group of troops sitting around the campfire talking.  Some had fallen asleep, but some still sat and watched the glow.  It must’ve been later than you thought.  You greeted them with a smile and gratefully took a seat amongst them.  While Hardcase filled you in on the conversation, you saw Fives talking to Echo out of the corner of your eye.

   You were careful to not let your gaze linger and instead turned your attention back to Hardcase.  Even though it was another ordinary night for the others in the GAR, it wasn’t for you.  You still heard the whispers, felt the kisses, and breathed in his scent.  They would be with you during the day and would even chase you into your dreams.

#clone wars #clone wars reader insert #clone wars x reader #clone wars fives #clone wars fives x reader #clone wars fives reader insert #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #star wars the clone wars fives #fives x reader #fives imagine #arc trooper fives imagine #fives x you #arc trooper fives x you #clone wars x you #fives x y/n #arc trooper fives x y/n

[anncanta]

Free will argument

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing, John Seward

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges @ladyhaley28​ @dragatha @khyruma​ 

Read on AO3

Or read below

Zoe's voice trailed off in her head, and Agatha went to the window.

Light rain glittered in drops on the bushes and benches of the hospital park, the evening sun peeped through the rare clouds. Slowly Agatha put on her jacket and dialed the number she found in her grand-niece's phone.

‘Jack, get me out of the hospital. I'm discharging myself.’ It sounded confident. The young man on the other end of the line tried to object, but Agatha said: ‘Hurry up,’ – and dropped the call.

They rode in the taxi in silence. They stopped once – at an antique shop. Digging through Zoe's memory, Agatha found this little store in Soho, selling all sorts of unnecessary trifles along with false antiquities and pseudo-magic nonsense.

Climbing out of the car, Agatha returned five minutes later. Leaning over to the open window, she put the bag with aspen stakes on Jack's lap and, going around the car, got back.

She did not know why she was going to Dracula and did not know what kind of reaction she expected from him. And she really had no idea what she was going to do.

‘You don`t look very surprised.’

‘You don`t look very dead.’

‘I`m getting there.’ Agatha walked through the open door and, staggering slightly, sat down at the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack follow her apprehensively. She heard her own voice telling how easy it was to find Dracula's apartment.

When Dracula grabbed the guy by the throat, Agatha woke up abruptly.

‘Let him go,’ she said, feeling the pain rise inside Zoe's body in a hot wave. Why is she here?

‘Why?’ Dracula turned to her with interest.

The pain squeezed her chest and then gone. Agatha swallowed.

‘This is England,’ she said, catching her breath. ‘Conversation preseeds dinner.’

So little time, Agatha thought, looking at how Dracula threw the young man away and, turning to her, leaning with both hands on the table. Almost unconsciously, she mirrored his pose, inside fleetingly noting that she had never been in a more stupid situation.

Except when she died aboard the ship, which she herself blew up, hoping to kill the vampire. Agatha frowned, shaking her head. She needs to concentrate. She thinks about the wrong things.

‘– waiting for someone?’ Jack's voice came to her through the fog in her head.

‘Lucy Westenra.’ The name of the girl Dracula killed brought Agatha back to reality. She raised her head. ‘Do you expect her to rise up and come to you? I have to disappoint you – she was cremated.’

Agatha was surprised by Dracula's reaction. Anger, disbelief, irritation – and a shadow of horror suddenly replaced each other on his face. Did he really feel something for that child, Agatha asked herself distantly. Most likely, however he just…

Dracula's ferocious monologue was interrupted by a sharp ringing at the door. He paused, looking first at Jack, then at Agatha with a victorious smile.

‘You underestimated... hmm... vampires' liveliness,’ with flashing eyes, he said and went to open. He turned around halfway. ‘Dr. Seward. She was your friend, wasn't she?’

Agatha spent the next half hour desperately battling nausea, pain, and fear. The scene with the ill-fated, half-burned Lucy was disgusting, and Agatha almost regretted bringing Jack with her.

It is better for old acquaintances to meet in private.

‘...at least she died well. This is a rare quality, believe me.’

Agatha shuddered.

‘Quality or taste?’ she asked, turning to Dracula.

‘Oh, taste,’ Dracula nodded mockingly. ‘Her taste was unique. I've never seen anything like it before. It was as if she was in love with death.’

‘That`s it!’ Having doused Agatha simultaneously with pain and heat, understanding came. ‘That`s everything.’ She looked at Dracula, frozen in bewilderment. She turned to the tear-stained youth. ‘Jack, go away.’

‘Dr. Helsing, I can't…’ he protested. ‘I will not leave you…’

But Agatha did not listen to him.

‘I need to speak to Count Dracula. It's very personal,’ she said, looking Dracula in the eye. ‘He wouldn’t want anyone else to hear it.’

‘Why not?’ Dracula asked.

‘Because now I know exactly what you fear most,’ Agatha said. She straightened, returning his victorious smile. The pain receded, she suddenly felt at ease.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ Dracula looked at her with childish delight.

‘I know you don’t,’ Agatha replied.

‘Dr. Seward, you may leave,’ Dracula said without turning to Jack.

‘Get out,’ said Agatha.

She glanced at Jack. He looked at her questioningly, as if he expected her to explain everything to him and tell him what the hell was going on here. Agatha sighed slightly.

To tell the truth, she was not sure of anything. Least of all – how what she just realized will help.

‘Today is going to be a beautiful day,’ she said to Jack with her eyes pointing to the curtained window. Deciding that he understood her plan, the guy nodded and left, finally leaving them with Dracula alone.

For some time after his departure, Agatha stood with her head bowed. Pain, faintness, and weakness returned again. I can't do it, she thought.

For just a second, she let go of the expensive tabletop, on which she was leaning so as not to fall, and found herself in the center of some kind of hurricane. She was hugged, held close to Dracula, and he showered her face with kisses. Agatha froze, slightly stunned from all this and from amazement without even trying to escape.

Dracula hugged her with both hands, stroked her head, touched her vertex with his lips.

‘I missed you... I missed you so much,’ he whispered into her hair, laughing.

His lips were unexpectedly warm and soft and he was strong and she was so tired. So confused, so worn out. A stranger in this time, in this place, in this life, and in this body. Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, Agatha briefly allowed herself to just be where she was. She felt good.

Unexpectedly, this thought sobered her.

‘Let me go,’ she said emphatically. He, oddly enough, obeyed instantly. ‘What do you mean – you missed me?’ looking up at him, asked Agatha.

‘That means that I badly wanted to see you.’ He smiled. Agatha frowned in annoyance.

‘You set it up. Zoe... you offered her your blood.’

‘She wanted it herself.’

Agatha flared up.

‘Do not try to confuse me!’

‘It's not that easy to do.’ He took her chin. ‘Agatha,’ he said, looking at her carefully, ‘tell me what you understood about me.’

This simple request uttered without irony and the usual mocking subtext suddenly made all her diligently accumulated anger disappear.

Walking around Dracula, Agatha slowly, overcoming sharp spasms twisting her body, went to the curtained window. She raised her hand and jerked the curtain down.

After waiting for the fuss and screams to subside behind her, she turned around.

‘It`s one hundred and fifty million miles away. What would it do to you?’

Dracula sat on the floor, shielding his hand from the sun, and looked blankly.

Suddenly softening, Agatha walked over. She dropped down next to him.

‘Have you ever thought,’ she asked, ‘why are you the only one of your... kind who is afraid of the sun? Why could Jonathan stand it and why was the girl in your basement not afraid of it? Like the cross, by the way. And Lucy Westenra, by the way, came here before dark.’ Agatha watched his expression slowly change. ‘Why?’

He frowned.

‘I do not know. I thought it was –’

‘Just habits,’ she said. ‘The things which you taught yourself to be afraid many centuries ago, so as not to think about the most important of your fears.’

She turned around, leaning her back wearily on him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, and in some incredible way, this gave her strength.

‘All your fears lead to one,’ Agatha said, closing her eyes and throwing her head back on his shoulder. ‘Lead to the fear of death. You are a warrior from an old line of warriors, and therefore you hate this fear and are ashamed of it. That's why you came up with all your superstitions and signs.’ Lord, the pain was terrible. Agatha grimaced. ‘Simple as two times two.’

He kissed her again, now somewhere on the cheek or temple. Agatha did not have the strength to resist and argue: Zoe's body was slowly fading away, she every minute waited for the blessed night to fall on her.

Agatha did not remember her last death. Her awakening in the twenty-first century was abrupt and rather awkward. Waking up in a body that she shared with a frightened and lost grandniece, Agatha spent the first few days looking around and trying to understand what was happening and what to do with all this. It was not easy to establish contact with Zoe – she was exhausted and stubborn, overflowing with a sense of guilt. It took three months before her weakened mind was able to listen to something other than itself.

Agatha reproached herself for missing the time. Perhaps she should have been more persistent. Perhaps then young Lucy Westenra would be alive.

It was easy to explain to Zoe why Agatha went to Dracula. Much harder – to explain it to herself. She did not have any means and even physical strength to fight him, and no support, except for a frightened young man, gripped by double grief – because of the loss of his beloved and a friend he was about to lose. Why did she do it?

Because there is free will in the world. Agatha smiled without opening her eyes, remembering how she argued about it there, in the wine cellar, with Dracula. He convinced her that she was looking for violent passions and great adventures, deliberately choosing the dangers – and he believed that she was right in this. Her position, however, rather confirmed his words – even if Agatha did not know what exactly was happening, one thing was obvious: he kidnapped her and kept her with him.

‘What would await you in the monastery, Agatha?’ he said during one of their conversations at chess. ‘Monotonous days, hard work, and prayers to someone you don't even believe in.’

‘I believed in Him thanks to you,’ Agatha answered, and he smiled incomprehensibly and strangely.

Agatha opened her eyes.

‘I lost,’ she said quietly. ‘I lost because I teased the wolves.’

‘I wouldn't jump to conclusions,’ there was a whisper in her ear, and the warm lips moved down to the base of her neck. They played and teased and caressed her until…

‘Will you ever leave me alone?’ Agatha asked, looking up from the chess table in front of her. She opened her mouth again, about to say something harsh, and suddenly realized that the pain was gone. During the three months that Agatha spent in Zoe's body, the pain became so familiar that it was as if, after the even creaky sound that tormented her day and night, there was suddenly quietness.

She looked at Dracula. He sat without saying a word, as the last time, demonstratively clutching a glass of blood in his hand.

‘It's poisoned,’ Agatha said, pointing to the glass.

Dracula was still silent.

‘What do you want?’ Agatha asked almost plaintively. Confusion and fatigue hit her at once. Dracula put the glass on the table, stood up, walked around it, and stopped in front of her.

‘Agatha,’ he said softly. She got up. He smiled. ‘I want to offer you... a choice.’

Agatha frowned. It didn't take a big mind to understand what he meant. Zoe's blood was poisoned, but apparently not enough to kill him. She looked into his eyes.

‘Either I will finish you off, and your death will be quick and easy,’ Dracula spoke her thoughts out loud, ‘or let me convert you.’

The last word made her recoil. Turning away, Agatha walked around the small room several times before remembering that it was impossible to escape from it. Desperately, she looked at Dracula. He stood where he was, not trying to speak to her or stop her. And that moment she clearly realized that he would not force her.

She went up to him again.

‘I have about ten minutes left to live,’ she said softly.

‘That's enough for me,’ Dracula assured her. ‘Although, judging by your blood, you have at least two weeks.’

He was serious. And it was more frightening than all his previous bullying. Agatha ran her hand over her face.

‘You want to make an animal out of me. If only to save me, and you could continue to play with me, you are ready to make me a primitive creature driven by hunger.’

‘I'm glad that you think so highly of me.’ Now in the voice of Dracula, there were familiar, risible notes. ‘But your prejudices prevent you from seeing the essence. At this time, the vampire no longer needs to be a hungry animal,’ he said impatiently. ‘You don’t even have to kill to live. My lawyer delivers blood to me at my first order. Given the required parameters and the talents that I am looking for. Yes, he is quite inventive,’ Dracula smiled in response to the dumbfounded expression on her face. ‘You don’t have to hide, you’ll no longer be an outcast. It would be all the joys of this world before you, including the sun.’ He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. ‘Hate me, if you want, leave me by slamming the door – whatever you want, please. But allow yourself to use this chance.’

Out of place, Agatha imagined what would have happened if she had actually stayed in the monastery. Probably, she would have lived a peaceful life, which would have found its completion in a modest cell on the slope of long fruitless years. She looked at Dracula. He tore her out of that life by the roots, throwing in the face of the self-confident and naive nun the consequences of her own impulsive actions. He killed her, returned her after one hundred and twenty-three years, and offers her... a life without him. Shaking her head, she laughed.

‘Why are you sure that you will succeed?’ she asked without preamble. ‘If I remember correctly, you told Jonathan that most of those whose blood you drink die. How then are you going to?..’

‘Jonathan helped me understand how simple everything is,’ Dracula replied with a smile. ‘And difficult at the same time. Free will, Agatha,’ he said, seeing that she still didn't understand. ‘It's all about free will.’

Agatha frowned, but not because he was now literally quoting what she was thinking.

‘Lucy… you told her something… that in four hundred years she was the first to give you her blood voluntarily. She wanted you. She wanted to stay with you. Like that girl in the basement, probably. But Jonathan,’ Agatha said immediately, ‘Jonathan definitely didn't want that. He begged you to let him go.’

‘He wanted to leave me,’ Dracula agreed. ‘But also – before he died, he swore that he would do everything in his power to stop me. But what could an exhausted, almost drunk dry, sick person do to me?’

Agatha's eyes widened.

‘To fight you, he had to become your equal,’ she said, barely audible. ‘He became a vampire because he wanted to.’

‘Like everyone else,’ Dracula nodded. ‘It's a pity that I realized this so late.’

Agatha just brushed aside another dark joke. Turning away from Dracula, she stared ahead of her for a while.

When she looked at Dracula again, her gaze was direct and open, and she did not need to say a word. He already understood everything.

The next thing Agatha saw was the sun's rays. They shimmered, shone, covered her body from head to toe, spread a sheet of bright light under her. Fascinated by this incredible sight, she did not immediately realize that she was naked and was lying in the arms of a naked Dracula, who touched her shoulder with a kiss.

‘It always seemed to me that the conversion had to be... painful,’ she gasped in amazement.

Dracula smiled, looking up.

‘After all this time, did you think, I`d let it hurt?’

#dracula 2020 #bbc dracula #count dracula #agatha van helsing #dragatha #fanfic

[juneviews]

Its interesting to see your take on ohmnanons fanservice because i know people have diff opinions on it. Some are seeing them as attempting to sell their pairing more and others actually feel like they are awkward about doing fanservice, particularly nanon. As someone who has followed them for a bit as well, imo they give less fanservice than before they were even paired. Back in 2019 and early 2020 you can find a lot interactions between them (on twitter and ig) where they jokingly said really flirty things to each other and you saw them posting their hangouts a lot more. Nanon initiated a lot of flirty tweets and ig responses before but now if ohm or gmmtv members tease, he doesn't bite lol. Even when hosts or interviewers try to joke/imply they are more they say resolutely they are friends. Now when they hangout if its outside of work you dont see them post about it, ofc they have more work together so we see a lot more of them together but less casual non work related posts. Also because bad buddy blew up, gmmtv actors and staff make it a point to ship them more intensely which I noticed they do for all popular pairings and shows, even singjan who dont have a series together.

Nanon is also super clingy with everyone from his fam to his friends and acting in bad buddy seemed to make him that way even more. I've seen him kiss not only ohm, but p'aof, arm, jimmy, gun, and his soccer teammates as well. (I know you weren't looking for this whole spiel haha but I just thought id give my take, in the end our opinions are our own lol)

okay, that's definitely valid of you! I haven't been following nanon in particular for that long so I'll take your word for it. at the end of the day I genuinely have nothing against ohmnanon & as I said I've been a fan of both actors separately for a while, it's just that I personally noticed a huge shift of ohm's ig specifically. but I've always known nanon to be very cuddly so frankly I didn't notice as much of a difference from him. and you're right, I do think the gmmtv staff are hyping up the ship way more like they always do once a ship gets popular. I'm starting to think that "being shippers" is in their job descriptions lmao, and in that case, where can I apply? :'))) but yeah my issue isn’t with the fanservice in itself, it’s how much more pushed in our faces it is, to advertize the ship.

xxx

#answers #overall though ohmnanon's fanservice is one of the least cringy in my eyes but still it has definitely gone up since bb

[tteokggukk]

welcome to my youtube channel → kth

✳ pairing: idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader

✳ genre: fluff, taehyung scenario, stranger to lovers, reader is an artist who posts art videos on youtube

✳ warnings: none!

✳ words: 2.9k

✳ a/n: hello, this is my second bts oneshot/scenario. i just like to write for fun but if you’d like to let me know if there’s anything i can improve on please do so! i’d love to know how to improve. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

You spoke in front of the camera. Sets of acrylic paint were spread out across the table next to a stand that held an 18x24 inch canvas. You were in the middle of making your seventeenth video, a highly requested one at that, and deep down you were ecstatic to start working on the painting.

Never in your life did you think you would ever start a YouTube account. You always considered yourself a very shy and private person, not one to go out of their way and broadcast themselves all over the internet. Your best friends, however, were two very well-known YouTubers and always found a way to include you in their videos and live streams. Somehow people liked seeing more of you, and so you were convinced by your best friends and the audience to start your own YouTube channel.

But you weren't very accustomed to bringing a camera everywhere with you to document and share whatever was happening in your daily life, you found it too awkward and you were still camera-shy, so you decided to create content in a way that would still keep you comfortable while doing something you loved.

An art channel.

Your channel blew up pretty fast. Requests started pouring in here and there. You became known for your very calm demeanor and artistic skills, so you took this as an opportunity to sell your works online as a way to earn some extra money for your future. Occasionally, you'd do lives to talk to your fans and you were happy at the support they showed you, which only encouraged you to keep making videos.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started," you told the camera, mentally telling yourself to insert the comments and messages you got in your DMs to paint this Adonis-like human being. The requests started coming in after you had an Instagram live where you did some quick sketches while playing some of your favorite songs in the back, and people noticed one of the songs you played was by him.

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand"," you spoke, adding air quotes, "I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

You started mixing different colors in your palette and showed everyone the picture for your reference.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

Taehyung watched as you spoke in the video, looking behind you to see a bunch of art materials. The title of the video was left ambiguously, only being named most requested video, leaving him no clue on what it was you were going to create this time.

He's been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he'd subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting.

Because of your channel, he even created an anonymous YouTube account just to leave nice comments on your videos along with a private Instagram account to be able to watch your lives.

Needless to say, he didn't miss that one live where you played the song Winter Bear. It made his whole night, making him sleep with a smile on his face.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started." 

He watched as a bunch of comments started appearing onscreen popping up one by one as they gradually got faster, eventually covering you. It took a moment before it sunk in that he was the highly requested person they wanted you to paint. He paused the video, wide-eyed, before shouting in excitement. Jimin had to come in and check what the whole commotion was about.

"Y/n's going to paint me!" Taehyung exclaimed, his mouth turning into his famous boxy smile. 

"Ah, the YouTuber you really like?" Jimin smiles before sitting down next to Taehyung who continued playing the video, "I wanna see."

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand", I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

"Wow, she seems really kind," Jimin says, while Taehyung only nods, his eyes glued to the screen.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

He felt his heart beat fast when you mentioned his name, and without realizing it his ears have gone all red. 

On screen, you began sketching, "You guys have also been sending me a lot of questions lately, which is why I decided to tweet about doing a q&a."

"What questions did you ask?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"I asked her if being an artist is something she'd like to pursue," Taehyung told him.

"Ooooh, trying to get to know her," Jimin teases, "Our little Taehyungie has a celebrity crush."

Taehyung rolls his eyes but breaks out into a grin anyway, "I just respect her artistry."

"Right, okay," Jimin snickers, obviously not buying it.

Taehyung knew he was telling the truth, though. It was impossible to have feelings for someone who you only knew through a screen. He found you attractive for sure, but he of all people would know that almost no one is completely one-hundred percent themselves on screen. Genuine as you may be, there are still things that are best kept to yourself. He couldn’t lie though, if given the chance to get to know you, he’d never pass up on that offer.

"Someone asked why I don't use that much ready-made paint," You spoke on screen, "It's ‘cause I learn a lot from mixing my own colors, and also I just really enjoy it."

The painting was beginning to come together halfway through the video and Taehyung's question finally made its way to you. "Kimyeontan95 asks, ‘is painting a career you want to pursue? I love your work, by the way’."

"That was basically I love you," Jimin holds back a laugh, earning him a light punch in the arm from Taehyung.

"Thank you so much, kimyeontan95, and no, painting is just a hobby of mine and a way to earn some future savings. I actually really want to be a novelist."

Taehyung smiled after hearing you answer his question. Later on, the video was over and his portrait was complete. He hurriedly redirected himself to the link that was provided for the auction.

Something in him wanted to have that painting no matter what, so he set himself as the highest bidder and eventually had it mailed to his home where he put your work up in his room to cherish.

A day after your video was posted, you woke up to a thousand notifications from your phone. Hundreds of people were mentioning you in tweets and you had numerous missed calls from your best friends and some texts telling you to check your online art shop. You groggily scroll through your feed, a bit confused as to what was happening.

I wanted to buy this painting and I had it in my list, but now it's unavailable!

Y'ALL WHAT RICH KID SET THE HIGHEST BID TO A MILLION DOLLARS IM CRYING

@yourtwittername are you planning to sell a new collection?

a million dollar bid wtf swownwowksodiowl

Someone just bought all of @yourtwitterusername's paintings. I'm crying in broke eye—

but like what if taehyung set that bid? @yourtwitterusername

What?

I just woke up and my mentions are pouring. What is going on? You tweeted.

Thousands of replies began coming in leaving you feeling overwhelmed and confused on where to start. Everyone was telling you to check your site, and so you did. You felt your heart almost stop beating when you saw that every single artwork you had up for sale were sold out. Nothing was left behind. You checked your emails, and the confirmations were there.

How could this have happened overnight?

ALL MY WORKS ARE SOLD OUT?!?!?!?? WHO COULDVE DONET THIS??? You tweeted, hands shaking.

You felt your heart race, a wide grin that could go even wider if possible was plastered on your face. You tried to stop yourself from screaming in excitement but couldn't so you ended up jumping up and down and doing happy dances before calming down to assess the situation. Finally, you sat down in front of your laptop to see where all your works were being shipped to.

Replies started coming in.

CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT

WILL U RESTOCK

AHSKWJOA CONGRATS BB

I'M SO HAPPY FOR U

BUT Y/N WHO BOUGHT THEM ALL

Checking your emails, you discover that your art works were all bought by one person. Anonymous. There was no name and someone requested to have their personal information redacted. 

Anonymous? Surely this wasn't a joke?

The person kept their name anonymous. You tweeted and muted the notifications just to allow yourself to focus on finding out who it was that bought everything.

At the bottom of all the removed personal information, there was one username that you were sure you've heard or seen somewhere.

@ Kimyeontan95. 

Underneath the username was a short but sincere message.

"Your videos have always helped me wind down after a long, busy day. I can't express how much you inspire me with your talent and how I wish someday you'd teach me to be half as good as you, as I'm not very gifted in the painting department. I admire how you put your gifts into good things, and I very much idolize you in one way or another. This is just a small way of showing my support for you, but also because all your works are amazing and I'd love to have a small room filled with my favorite art works. I look forward to reading works of yours soon, future novelist.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you smiled to yourself. The letter was definitely heartfelt and you wanted so badly to thank the person who sent it.

Later that afternoon, you decided to go on live to personally thank the anonymous buyer for buying your works and for sending that wonderful note. You fixed yourself up a little bit and pressed live as thousands of your followers began to tune in.

"Hello, everyone," you greeted, smiling. Replies with greetings started coming in and you couldn't help but chuckle at the eager messages your followers were sending. They truly made you happy.

As expected, several questions began pouring in.

"Right, so, I wanted to do this live because of what happened. As you may have noticed, all my works were suddenly sold out which definitely took me by surprise," you started, "Unfortunately the buyer left everything anonymous. They only left what I assume is a username and a short letter, which I will keep to myself for personal reasons."

@follower1WHAT

@follower2 will you keep selling your works?

@follower3 THATS SUCH A SWEET GESTURE THO OMG/

@follower4 am I the only one who thinks a secret admirer bought it

@follower5 check my YouTube channel I made a theory on who bought her works

@follower6 i rlly think it's taehyung

@follower7 I’'m so proud of you :(((

"If the person who bought all of my paintings is watching this, I really want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate the letter as well, you've honestly made me the happiest person on Earth," you smiled.

@follower8 AWWWWW

@follower9 ANON COME OUT

@follower10 i really wanna know what the letter says

@ Kimyeontan95 I'm glad :)

Your heart stopped at one of the replies. You took your phone immediately from its fixed position with wide eyes and began scrolling up fast because of the immediate replies coming in. Wasn't that the username?

@follower11 what's going on?

@follower12 y/n are you okay?

You could no longer find the reply so you set your phone down, fixing it back in place.

"For a second I thought the person who bought it was watching my live," you sighed and smiled nervously, "So anyways— I'd really love to express my gratitude so if they're watching, please contact me. I can't say thank you en—"

Suddenly the replies were frantic. People were sending keyboard smashes here and there. Only a few of them were actual coherent comments. "What is going on?" You asked as you began scrolling through.

@follower13 Y/N CHECK VLIVE

@follower14 TaEHYUNF IS ON LIVE

@follower15 I kNEW IT THOUGH???

@follower16 Y/N CHECK TAEHYUNGS LIVE

@follower5 Y'ALL I WAS RIGHT I SAID CHECK MY YT

Keeping your live on, you grabbed your laptop as fast as you could to check out the links being sent to your live. When it finally loaded, you could've sworn you'd have a heart attack. 

"Oh, I think she's watching me," Taehyung grinned through his live, holding his phone in front of the camera. He quickly shows the viewers his phone screen, which showed your live of you watching him through your laptop. Your eyes widened and you looked back at your phone camera that was broadcasting your live, then back at his live.

Taehyung started giggling, "I guess we're just watching each other, huh?" He smiled. Behind him were packed and unpacked parcels of paintings you recognized were yours. If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider at this, "Oh my god," you breathed out.

"I should probably introduce myself," Taehyung spoke, "Hello everyone, I'm Kim Taehyung. How are you all doing? Today I’m planning on redecorating my room after our practice. What are the packages behind me? Oh, these are paintings I recently bought."

"Are those my paintings?" You asked out loud, though you knew the answer. 

"Are those my paintings?" Your voice echoed from Taehyung's broadcast as your live was streaming from his phone. He grinned sheepishly, "Yes, these are your works, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," You smiled, "You were the buyer?" 

You mentally slapped yourself for asking such obvious questions, but you just couldn't believe everything that was happening now.

"Yes," he chuckles, "I really love your paintings." Suddenly the sound of Jimin’s voice echoed from behind and Taehyung quickly stood up to lock the door, knowing he’d get the teasing of a lifetime if Jimin came and saw him talking to you.

"Thank you so much, I—" Your voice began to crack and your eyes welled with tears that you tried to fight back, "I really appreciate it. And the letter, that was really sweet."

"No, thank you. Wait, don't cry—" Taehyung spoke nervously.

"I'm just so happy," You laughed while wiping the tears off.

The replies from both ends were coming in like crazy. On one hand, majority of everyone watching found the whole scenario cute and started pairing you two out of nowhere, though there were a few haters on the other. It didn't really bother you, you were just so happy someone you idolized noticed your work.

"I'm glad," he was watching you with a fond smile through his phone, then the sound of the Jin’s voice began coming from outside Taehyung’s room, "Sorry for this sudden grand reveal. I really can't stay on live for too long but I'd love to keep talking to you." He spoke.

"Oh no, that's okay," You spoke fast.

"Do you mind if I send you a message? Assuming you already know the username," he asks.

"No not at all, I'd love to keep talking as well," your heart was beating erratically now. You didn't have to see your face to know how red it was becoming.

"Alright, great. Um, before I end this vlive I just wanna say you're a great artist and to all my viewers watching this, please support y/n's artworks and her channel! If I see any negative comments, I'll be taking responsibility and I'll unfortunately have my agency involved in taking those out," he spoke in a commercial tone kind of voice, "And to y/n, I'll be keeping in touch.” The door from behind him suddenly bursts open and Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook rush inside.

“You were talking to her!” Jimin shouts excitedly.

“Finally!” Jungkook claps.

“Is that why you kept the door locked?” Jin teases.

“Bye, everyone!" Taehyung quickly waves goodbye to the camera and smiles before turning the broadcast off. 

You sat there stunned, almost forgetting you were also on live. You turned to your phone which was still recording you, "That was unexpected."

Suddenly, a notification in your DMs popped up. "I'll go ahead and process everything that just happened now, bye guys! See you in my next video." You ended the live with a wave and smile.

You quickly went into your direct messages and found the same username, Kimyeontan95. You opened it and found a picture of Taehyung holding one of your paintings with a peace sign on his other hand, the other members behind him posing with your other works, making you laugh.

Your heart fluttered at the message below the picture.

I hope this isn't too sudden, but would you like to go out with me sometime?

a/n: hello! if you finished it, thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it hehe. i think i’m gonna keep posting the stuff i write bc i have so many ideas for the other members as well. also this is fun hehe. if you wanna read my other work, let’s fall in love for the night, ← here’s a link! thanks again for reading and please look forward to my future writing/edits.

#bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #kth #bts v #taehyung x reader #bts oneshot #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #taehyung oneshot #taehyung scenarios #bts imagines #bts edits #bts icons #jeon jungkook #park jimin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #bangtan #bts au #bts writing #bts angst #idol!taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung fluff #bts texts #bts universe

[ichorai]

cellmates ; four ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 5.2k

warnings / includes ; medieval fantasy au, blood and grime and death and everything in between, some curse words, future ateez cameos, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; surprise !! here you go stop crying >:( kdjffj jk i hope yall enjoy !!! the plot thickens up quite a bit in this one 👀 ,,, there are also a couple surprises sprinkled here and there :DD to make up for what i did to yall last chapter lol

cellmates masterlist.

As a child, a popular tale you often heard was one depicting a man stranded on an island, throat dry with thirst and stomach void of nourishment. He passed out in exhaustion by the beach, just on the brink of death. But before his soul could fade away, the mermaids took pity on the man of skin-and-bones and brought him underwater, breathing life back into his lungs. He contentedly lived the rest of his life as a merperson.

Although stories like those always had happy endings, they could never really make you smile, unlike how all the other children reacted. What about the people the man cared about when he was on land? Had he just completely forgotten about them to selfishly live an easier life underwater?

The same thoughts ran through your pounding head repeatedly as you dully stared out into the gleaming ocean. From where you were, bound tightly against the main mast, you had a clear view of both the ship’s deck and the waters. You couldn’t really remember how long you’d been tied up… if you could recall correctly, they had only thrown Wooyoung overboard just last night. That felt like an eternity ago. 

All thoughts of mermaids and fairy tales and Wooyoung dissipated from your mind once a pirate stepped into your view. In the daylight, they were far less scary than when you had first encountered them. The pirate had bronzed skin verging on being sunburnt, and sharp eyes of molten gold. A red bandana held his hair out of his leering face, and you noticed a dark branding burn of a sword ran through a skull embedded on his chest, partially covered by his loose tunic.

The man tutted, grabbing your chin between two fingers. It was then that you realized just how tired you were; you hadn’t gotten any sleep, instead spending the night struggling against your bonds and crying after Wooyoung.

“Let me go.” Your voice was so hoarse that it didn’t sound like yours anymore.

The pirate merely grinned and shook his head.

You wracked your brain for a second before spitting out, “Isn’t it bad luck to have a woman onboard? Your ship will sink if you keep me here.”

“Why, you must have nothing but worms between your ears,” He cackled in a sinister manner. “That’s just a silly little myth, sweetheart. Women are more than welcome here.” With those words, he ran his eyes over your tense form. A predator surveying its prey.

Much to your relief, the pirate stepped down. That feeling didn’t last very long, however. Just as he slid back, more pirates filtered into your view, clearly just having woken up to start the day. There were so many eyes on you; some curious, some disinterested, and some boldly staring with unsavory expressions.

“I say we make her do the dirty work,” One with golden teeth chimed. “Scrub the decks, clean the chamber pots.”

“We should toss her overboard. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”

“Keep her tied up there! A pretty thing like her should be on display for everyone to see!”

“We can drop her off at the next port and sell her off as a slave. We could use the extra gold.”

“Awh, don’t you think we should keep her? Ain’t half bad to look at.”

Those were only just a few snippets you could make out in the midst of the tumultuous roaring of the pirates as they yelled their suggestions over each other. They grew progressively louder as more ideas came into mind on what they should do with you. Panic brewed within you, but your limbs were tired and your mind was numb. All you could do was stand and watch.

The pirates immediately quietened once a one-eyed man with a peg leg hobbled out of the navigation room. The soft clunk, clunk, clunk of the wooden leg against the planks was not unsimilar to the rapid thundering of your heartbeat.

This is the captain, you thought. It was obvious, what with the way the pirates shut their mouths tightly and bowed their heads down to their chests. Some even trembled on the spot. If Wooyoung were here, he’d laugh at them.

Oh, how you missed him. 

The captain had a voice of pure silk, a stark contrast to his ragged appearance. In a quietly powerful tone, he stated firmly, “We leave her here until we reach Aurecia. Then we sell her off.” After a tense pause, he sternly added on, “Nobody touches her until then. Aurecians pay well for unspoilt women, so if any of you lot come remotely close to her, I’ll have your heads.”

The diminutive consolation you received from the captain’s commands ebbed away slightly when you thought more about what he was saying. They were going to sell you off as a slave in Aurecia. And if you could recall the map correctly, Aurecia was the opposite direction of Virelis, where you were supposed to be going. To top it all off, Cerulea and Aurecia were trusted allies, and that could mean nothing good for you.

“No!” You suddenly interjected in a croaky voice, throat so dry it felt like you had sandpaper in your mouth. “Please, don’t take me there. I need to go to Virelis. Please, you can sell me there!”

Everybody stared at you in complete befuddlement. The captain gaped at you with one narrowed eye and spat out, “Virelis doesn’t take slaves. Don’t play games with me, girl.”

Out of desperation, pleading words frantically poured out of your mouth before you could stop and hesitate, “Then don’t sell me! I’m useful, I swear!”

“Forgive me if I have difficulty believing you,” The captain said in a bored tone, gesturing to your bleeding, tied up form. 

A frustrated huff escaped you as you hissed out, “I’m Y/N L/N! I was the one that stole the princess’ necklace! I’m a valuable asset and you’d be lucky to have me on your crew.”

A stunned silence washed over the pirates. Then, one by one, they started laughing. They snorted and chuckled and slapped their knees as if you had told them the funniest joke in the world. You half-heartedly attempted speaking again, but your voice was drowned out by their howling laughter.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I FEED YOUR SORRY ASSES TO THE SHARKS!” The captain bellowed, his velvety tone long gone. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a scowl pulling at his lips. 

The lot of them snapped their mouths shut so quickly you could hear their teeth clacking against one other. 

“Y/N L/N is nothing but a legend,” The captain stepped closer to you, his one eye narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t know, nor do I care for why you’re lying, but it better not become a problem. I’ve already got one crew to deal with. I don’t need to add a raving lunatic onto the list.”

“Please!” You wiggled against your bonds slightly, wincing at how the coarse rope fibers scratched at your chafed skin. “Why would I lie?! You’ve got to believe me, I’m Y/N L/N, I’ve been in jail for a long time and I’ve only recently escaped with the man you tossed overboard. Please, we can go bring him back, he can tell you, I - !” 

The words lodged in your throat. It was pointless, trying to convince a haggle of savage pirates to go back for someone they tossed to the sharks. There was a sort of heavy pain deep down in your chest, and you brokenly blew out a sigh. The feeling churned at your insides uncomfortably. It might’ve been the sea sickness, but you knew it was a nasty combination of guilt and panic and regret.

The captain noticed your abrupt change in demeanor, but decided not to comment. Instead, he said stoically, “Y/N L/N is a wonderful character in a legend told to scare children and I would absolutely love to meet her. But unfortunately, I don’t think I’d ever get the pleasure to. She’s not real.” You stared into his one eye, tears welling up in your own. “And about the man we tossed over… he put up a real fight and he wasn’t worth the trouble. He’s probably long gone by now. It’d do you good to forget about him.”

Pirates behind the pair of you started snickering, but were quietened when the captain straightened and just about snarled out, “DON’T YOU HAVE WORK TO DO? GET ON WITH IT, YOU STINKY BASTARDS!” 

They scrambled in a panicked fashion, a few of them running into each other as they dashed in opposite directions, others clumsily slipping on the damp plank wood, and some merely ran like headless chickens with no definite direction in mind. 

“They’ll treat you well in Aurecia, girl,” The captain slipped back into his velvety tone once more. You supposed this was his way of apologizing… or, the closest thing to an apology you’d ever get from a pirate. “Just try to accept it and it won’t seem as bad. This lot here won’t hurt you in the meantime. I’ll make sure of that.” He gestured to the rest of the men who were settling back into their daily routines. You were surprised to see that they were already hard at work; manning the sails, scrubbing the decks, navigating the ship, so on so forth. The life of a pirate definitely wasn't an easy one. 

You said nothing in return, staring blankly at the glinting ocean. The hollow clunk, clunk, clunk of his peg leg fading away was a sure sign that the captain was gone. You couldn’t bring it in yourself to watch him go.

This was most probably the worst possible time to cry. At this point, you were surprised your sore eyes could still manage to produce tears, considering how dehydrated you were. It was obvious that some of the pirates were still watching you, pausing mid-job. You tried to ignore them and hung your head sullenly as dry sobs rumbled in your chest.

You were stuck floating in a gigantic cesspool of saltwater, and yet your body had the audacity to produce even more. It was this very water you were bobbing on that most probably filled Wooyoung’s lungs as he gave up his last breath. The thought did nothing but make you weep harder. 

Pirates really had no designated time to have luncheon and supper, but their stomachs all seemed to revolve around roughly the same hours. By the time the golden of the sun was grazing against the deep green waters and the sky was bleeding a strange shade of amaranthine, they were all shouting out complaints of hunger and trotting to the small kitchens below deck to have supper. 

You were hungry, but also sure that if you had even a morsel of bread, you would heave it right back out. The day was spent with you gazing at the rocking waters, bustling pirates, and the large, tattered flag that hung proudly way above you. On occasion, you tried pleading to the pirates who were passing by, but none of them so much as glanced towards you. It seemed as though they took their captain’s orders to heart. 

And so, after hours and hours of being neglected, imagine your surprise when one particular pirate sheepishly walked up to you, a little after all the others had disappeared below the deck to eat.

At first, you hadn’t noticed the quiet man because you had your stinging eyes shut, trying to block off the last and harshest glares of the sun as it sank under the edge of the world.

He cleared his throat once, and your eyes flew back open, startled.

“You must be starving,” He said. 

The first thing you noticed about him was the strangely soft shade of pink his hair was. It wasn’t unsimilar to the color of Yunho’s hair, and you found yourself wondering how the kind giant of a man would react knowing that you lost Wooyoung. 

“Oh,” He gestured to the brightly-hued strands on his forehead. “I’m half fairy. Everybody looks at me funny when they first see my hair.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you observed the man in front of you suspiciously. You had little to say in reply to the strangely personal fact he told you, and so you bit down on your tongue and let silence further consume you.

He had an angular face and complementing sharp features, but he bore a timid expression in an unexpectedly stark contrast. What was this fairy-man doing on a pirate ship? He didn’t look at all like the rest of the crew. The others were sunburnt and filthy and rugged. He, however, was somewhat well kempt, skin void of burns and scars and dirt. A loose cream-hued tunic was hung over broad shoulders, barely slung over his hardened chest, a leather belt tightened around the small of his waist and tucked into black trousers. It was quite a dignifying outfit in comparison to the rest of the crew clad in dirty rags and stolen clothes that didn’t match in the slightest. But for that, you could understand. Seeing the pirates randomly throw on haphazard articles of clothing, you thought back to when you were on the run with Wooyoung, stealing clothes off of drying lines and changing into whatever would fit.

The only thing that pushed the strange pink-haired man more towards the ‘rugged pirate’ side was a silver lip ring glinting with the late sunlight from the side of his bottom lip. In his eyes you saw gentle kindness, but you knew better than to trust him just yet. 

“Are you hungry? I can sneak something up for you while everyone’s busy stuffing their face full.” He had a voice of honey and silk, tempting you to accept his generous offer. But you kept your mouth shut.

“I understand,” A sad, empathetic look crossed his face. “Sea sickness is the worst the first couple of days. From there, it’ll gradually get better once you get used to it. But please, drink some water.”

From out of nowhere, he brandished a pretty silver chalice and held it up to you, the metal stingingly cool against your lips. You would’ve been stupid to turn down the water, so you leaned forward slightly and slurped at the drink so quickly that some sloshed down your chin and dripped onto your chest. 

“I can get you some more later,” He said, pulling the cup away as you gasped for air. “But I have to tell you something important first. My name is San, by the way.”

He had a name that roughly translated to ‘mountain’ in Old Cerulean. You thought it was a rather pretty name… fitting for such a pretty man.

“I just wanted to say this while no one was around,” San sucked in a deep breath, steeling his quaking nerves. “I believe you.”

The water had certainly drowned away the scratchy burn in your throat, so you were free to painlessly stutter out, “W-What?”

“I believe you,” He repeated. “It’s like you said… why would you lie?”

“You believe that I’m Y/N?” Your voice raised an octave or two higher, to which San shot you a warning look and glanced behind him as a precaution. If anybody heard or saw either of you, the captain would have his head. “Why?”

Hope was a dangerous thing. It muddled your brain and clouded your consciousness, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. So you looked upon the pink-haired pirate dubiously, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I might be the most gullible man out there,” San snorted, raising a hand to rub against the back of his neck. “You kinda fit the description in all the stories and legends. And you don’t look like you’re lying… I don’t know… it must be the fairy blood in me. My mother always knew when I was lying or telling the truth. She used to tell me that good people only truly lie when they want to protect others. But… you don’t have anybody here to protect. Not anymore, anyways.” There was a guilty, remorseful sort of look that flooded his face. 

You were so relieved that you could’ve burst into tears right then and there. 

“And… that man the others threw overboard… he kept saying your name. You might’ve had reason to lie to us, but he didn’t. Especially not then.” San spoke gently in a low tone, as if he were speaking to a frightened child. Something painful twisted in your stomach at his words. “So… yes, Y/N, I believe you.”

Then he leaned forward and quickly swiped his cool thumb over your damp cheek. You only then realized that you were crying again, flinching away from his touch at first, before relaxing your tensed muscles. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing you could properly croak out. There were so many things you wanted to tell him. Help me. Let me out. Bring Wooyoung back. Take me away from here. Why are you helping me? What are you doing here?

Although none of your erratic thoughts were heard, you sagged in relief when he said, “I’ll try to talk to the captain about making a stop in Virelis.” As a tentative afterthought, he added, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“I loved him,” You croaked out, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t know that I did.”

San flashed you a sad smile, “Some people never realize. You’re lucky that you did.” Then, he murmured after gesturing to your bloody hands and wrists, “I’m also sorry about them hurting you. I have a special coconut extract lotion that treats wounds and burns very well. I’ll try to sneak up something for you to eat, as well. We’ll have to wait until it’s completely dark, though.”

You had so much to tell him, so much to ask, so much to thank him for. The fairy-man rotated on the stub of his heel to walk away, and you whispered out, “San!” He glanced back at you with a curious expression, and you nodded your head, sincerely grateful, “Thank you.” The questions could wait, you supposed.

A smile so wide spread across his lips that his eyes almost disappeared. Around savage pirates practically all his life, he rarely ever heard those two strangely comforting words. He dipped his head politely and walked away, leaving you to your own overwhelming thoughts.

Sleep had taken you under its dark wing a little while after San left, however fitful and sporadic. Your head pounded as your swollen and aching eyes fluttered open, somewhat surprised to see that it was still dark. Where was San?

Then, as your consciousness shook away the foggy webs of sleep, your brain registered a faint singing voice. However, it wasn’t just any rotten pirates’ singing voice; it sounded as if a woman was wailing, but in the most beautiful way possible. The trembling vocal chords pierced through the night sky, high-pitched and ringing in your ears melodically. It was a song in a language you couldn’t understand, but the warbled words molded together sounded pure and whole, just about placing you under a trance. But of course, you were still quite dazed and confused from slumber, unable to clearly hear the singing voices. On top of that, the water seemed to be extra loud, splashes and waves thundering against the boat almost every five seconds.

Tired, you rolled your stiff neck. Strangely, you noticed that the deck in front of you was void of any pirates. Glancing to the side, there was not a single soul to be seen manning the navigational wheel. Your neck ached as you craned it to look upwards, squinting at the crows’ nest, just to see that it was equally empty. Where are they? you thought absent-mindedly.

The singing was getting louder, and you had to physically shake your head to get your mind out of the gutters. The ropes strained against the skin of your raw wrists even more when you shifted to look behind you.

The sight that you were met with had you reeling against the mast in panic. 

Sirens. Dozens of them, sitting on moldy rocky ledges jutting out of the ocean waters. They were beautiful creatures, smooth skins tainted a faint green and shimmery silver hair just long enough to drape wetly over their breasts. They bore seductive expressions and parted their full lips to croon out the mesmerizing song in unison.

And the splashing against the boat? With a choked gasp of horror, the undisputed mystery of where all the pirates had gone was answered. One by one, they were marching off the planks, plummeting into the salty ocean waters, swimming as if their life depended on it, closer and closer to the beckoning sirens. They all held entranced expressions, some with gaping mouths and others with fully blown pupils of adoration and lust.

The sirens were far enough where you weren’t fully under influence, but much too close to be clear of mind. You had to count yourself lucky for being female; it was known that sirens had stronger effects on men. But you didn’t have much time to spare.

You suddenly became short of breath in panic. Where was San? Had he already jumped off? Blowing out a shuddering sigh, your neck trembled with great effort as you angled yourself to look back again. It was easy to spot his brightly-colored mane, the pink starkly bright in the moonlight.

“SAN!” You screamed to the best of your abilities, voice scratchy from your previous slumber. For a second, the fairy-man seemed to twitch slightly into your direction. A particularly high-pitched note echoed across the waters, just about slicing through any hesitation San might’ve held. Just like that, he turned completely away from you with a stupefied look, before hopping off the ship and plunging into the ocean.

A scream of protest ripped through your throat. There was no time to think… you could already feel their lulling voices numb the corners of your mind…

No. No, I have to get out of this. 

With a quick glance back, a flare of hope ignited somewhere within your chest when you spotted a dagger just behind you, buried in the fraying wood of a grog barrel. Its handle was jutting out in your direction, the crooked blade void of rust and gleaming with reflected moonlight. Excruciating pain shot through your right arm as you twisted your wrist about, desperate to be freed of the knot. The hardest part was getting your hand through the tight loophole, groaning at the throbbing sensation.

After frantically yanking yourself upwards, you managed to wrench your right wrist free, covered with blood and scratches and blisters. Then, with no time to spare, you reached as far as you could behind you, towards the barrel. Your bones ached and cracked under the strain, but you pushed through with gritted teeth. Tears ran down your twisted features from the pain. With a final shriek, you lunged and wrapped your blood-slicken fingers around the hilt. The sick sound of your left shoulder popping had you screaming in pained misery, but there was no time to lament. You’d fix it up later.

It took little effort to extract the blade out of the rotting wood. You prayed not to drop the dagger as your hand trembled ruthlessly. Swallowing dryly, you raised the blade to your left wrist, and began hacking away at the ropes.

They were tough, coarse things, but gave way eventually, unraveling with each strand. You didn’t even have to cut through the whole thing until it was weak enough to break on its own. 

You were free. 

The sirens’ song grew louder and louder, and frantically, you wobbled away from the mast and to the side of the ship, steadying your shaking legs against the rail. Every fibre of your being screamed at you to stop and jump into the water, swim to the beautiful melody that came from just over there…

“No!” You managed to moan out. Your left arm was completely useless; you weren’t able to move the limb at all. The tearing of your shirt as you somehow managed to rip off the sleeve rang in your muddled head alongside the foreign words quavering through the air. You used the dagger to slice the cloth in half, and shoved each piece into your ears. It was disgusting and uncomfortable, but it would have to suffice. The sirens’ voices sounded little other than muffled hums, and though you had to stay cautious, you could already feel your mind clear tremendously.

The last of the pirates had just clambered off the side. You would’ve heard the large splash he made as he cannon-balled into the waters if it weren’t for your make-shift ear plugs.

You were tired. You were thirsty, aching, sleepy, and just about every other bad feeling one could possibly have. Unfortunately, the ship was still heading right towards the sirens, no doubt turned off-course by a crewmate heavily under their influence.

And so, you dragged your heavy limbs over to the navigational wheel, letting out a soft tormented wince when the small act of curling your quaking fingers around the wooden spokes were enough to send what felt like great electric shocks of pain up your spine. Then, you spun the wheel one-handed, over and over and over again until the massive beauty of a ship leaned away from the sirens (who were clearly enraged, hissing and baring their sharp teeth), silkily gliding over the waters. Warm ocean air billowed into your face and tousled your hair, and for the first time since you’ve gotten onto the ship, you didn’t feel like throwing up. 

A part of you felt bad for leaving San, the only pirate to show you even just a morsel of empathy. Who knows, maybe he’d survive. He was half fairy, after all. You muttered out a soft soft wish of good luck for the pink-haired man, though you doubted that would do much.

Your mind was quick to leap from the fate of San to a man who’s been in your life for much longer. Where would you be if it weren’t for him?

Wooyoung wasn’t one to just… give up like that. He couldn’t be dead. Perhaps you were being a fool for holding onto hope, but you would gladly welcome that title if there was even the slightest chance that he was still out there, alive and breathing.

And so, you steeled your nerves by drawing in a grand breath. Your lips settled in a firm, determined line.

You were going to go find Wooyoung.

Where were you to start?

Dozens and dozens of maps and scrolls were tossed about as you pillaged through the papers, in search of a chart that would actually be of use to you. Much to your dismay, there weren’t any maps whatsoever that held the directions to Virelis. There goes that plan down the drain. Where else was there to go?

The sling that held up your left arm was procured hastily from the medbay after you popped your dislocated shoulder back into its socket with a quailing shriek. The pain had faded into a dull ache, but at least now you could wiggle your fingers. That was a good sign, you supposed. Your stomach was full with what you could find in their kitchen pantries (which was mostly just stale biscuits and half-cooked fish), and to be honest, you felt better than you have in a long, long time, despite the circumstances.

There was still the problem of finding him, though. If you could recall correctly, you were only around a days’ sail away from where they had kicked Wooyoung off.

But that would mean turning back to Cerulea. And that… definitely didn’t sound smart. You rubbed your fingers against your throbbing temple, taking a long swig of refreshing water from a pitcher. Gentle light was filtering in through the small circular window, illuminating the yellowed maps in such a way to make them look golden. There was no time to appreciate the simple beauty of this, however, because a stupid, moronishly foolish, plan was forming in your head.

What if you went back to Cerulea? Would Wooyoung be waiting for you there? Maybe he was staying with Yunho while he got back on his feet. After all, it’s not like he could swim all the way to Virelis, especially with how injured he was. Cerulea was a much closer, safer plan. It was the only place he could go, right?

Unease twisted your stomach at the thought of going back to the country that locked you in a dark dungeon for moons upon moons upon moons. Deep down inside, you knew that no part of Wooyoung would ever willingly go back to Cerulea. Not after all he went through trying to get out. But what else were you to do? And even if he weren’t there, at least you’d be able to inform Yunho on what happened. Then the sweet giant of a man could help you find him.

You stood up, compasses and maps slipping off your lap, respectively clanging and fluttering towards the ground noisily. With large, determined strides, you exited the navigational room and to the main deck, where the steering wheel was situated. Warm, salty breeze whispered against your ears, calm and encouraging.

“I’ll find you, Wooyoung,” Your words were swiftly stolen by the wind. You hoped that gale would be kind enough to carry the message over to him, however impossible it was.

Halfway across the world, laid an unconscious dark-haired man, clad in nothing save for his smallclothes and bandages tightly wrapped around his skull. He was situated stiffly atop a narrow bed, scars and bruises still quite fresh and clearly visible against his paler-than-usual skin.

Wooyoung awoke with a startled choke of a gasp, sore eyes flying wide open. There was a searing pain in his abdomen as he sat up, wheezing and hissing in agony. He took in his surroundings with a panicked demeanor, gaze landing on the mildly surprised fair-headed figure with striking green eyes standing by the doorway, fresh bandages in his palms. He’s an elf, Wooyoung realized after a long moment of gaping, noticing the ever-so-slightly pointed ears poking out beneath silvery locks and the infamous nature-woven clothes only elves wore.

“Took you long enough,” He said in a thick Elvish accent, followed by a beguiling snort. “I thought you would stay asleep forever. I’m Yeosang.”

Wooyoung blinked sluggishly once, twice, and a third and fourth time for good measure. He knew very well that he should probably answer. After all, elves were widely known to be an easily offended kind. But for the love of everything he held dear, he just couldn’t seem to crack his lips open. 

The two stared at each other awkwardly for a second more. Then promptly, his eyes rolled into the back of his skull as his upper half crumpled onto the bed, instantaneously returning into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

#ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x you #wooyoung x you #jung wooyoung x you #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #wooyoung smut #ateez fanfictions #ateez fanfics #ateez series #ateez medieval au #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung drabbles #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fanfiction #ateez fantasy au

[azucanela]

HOME PT. 1 | ZUKO

HOME MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Zuko has a chance to go home.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: blood, weapons, fights, death threats

A/N: we love zuko in this house, also send stuff into my ask box im bored and need ideas to write kashdkfkjasdhlf 

When Zuko was banished, it seemed that Ozai was more upset that Y/N intended to go with him, than at the pain he had caused his son. She was a talented firebender, capable of defeating even Azula, his prodigal daughter, in an Agni Kai. Her tactics and strategies, despite her young age, proved effective time and time again. She had the makings of a great General for the Fire Nation Army, and Ozai saw it as a waste for her to search for someone who would likely never be found. Not when Y/N L/N had so much potential. 

Y/N just saw it as proof that Ozai never truly cared for his son. His recognition of the impossible task he had bestowed upon his own child.

At the end of the day, her loyalty lied with the prince, so she set sail alongside him and his Uncle, in search of an avatar that had been gone for a century. They had known each other since they were children, when Ozai had taken interest in her natural talent for firebending. She had been raised alongside Zuko and Azula, training with them. But as most knew, Azula had an affinity for inflicting pain to those around her in her free time, so when the time came for a sparring match between Y/N and Azula, the results were deadly.

Ozai decided Y/N would stick around a little longer when she managed to beat Azula that day.

Zuko had never been competitive, not like Azula was. Though he’d asked her for tips on how to improve, and she’d graciously assisted him. And so, a friendship blossomed in the fire of their youth. She became his sparring partner, and as they grew older, his right hand.

She never regretted stepping onto the boat with Zuko the first day of his banishment. But she was beginning to regret ever speaking with him in the first place. He had no goal other than finding the Avatar, it was his sole purpose at this point, even after nearly three years of searching. But there were moments in which she found him rather… peaceful. He was almost the same boy who Y/N had played tag with as a child all those years ago. And in these moments, when she caught a glimpse of the real Zuko, she couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in her chest each time they had an actual conversation. 

One that wasn’t about his never ending quest to find the Avatar.

The conversations they had in the middle of the night, when sleep failed to reach them. The ones they never mentioned when the night was over. Because what happened in Zukos’ room at night, stayed there.

Y/N had only ever needed to knock once and Zuko was opening the door to his room on the ship. She gave him a tight lipped smile as she slipped inside, hoping no one noticed because they both knew what it would look like from an outside perspective. Not that she cared what others thought. What happened between her and Zuko was their business, though nothing ever really happened. He would try to make tea, they would dump the tea because of how bad it tasted, Y/N would remake the tea, and then they would talk.

Sometimes she wished it was more than that though. 

It was a foolish dream to have, she recognized that as she took the teapot before he could even make an attempt to boil the water. “You couldn’t sleep either?” She asked as she began to heat the water with her firebending, holding the pot above her free hand.

Zuko scoffed, sitting back on the mat he referred to as a bed, “no, I just knew you’d be awake.” 

Y/N frowned, “you should’ve gone to bed.” She places the tea leaves into the steaming pot, moving to sit with her legs crossed, across from him on the floor.

“And put the entire ship at risk?” Came his response, his brow raised. 

Y/N laughed lightly, “what are you talking about?” Her head tilts as she looks at him in confusion, grabbing the two solitary teacups on his desk. 

“Last time you were left unattended you nearly blew up our only means of transportation.” He deadpanned. 

She rolled her eyes, looking to him as she spoke, “that was one time-”

Zuko was smiling now, “remember the time you nearly killed that man with a cabbage cart because he-” 

“Okay! I get it, you can stop now.” Y/N exclaimed, cheeks warming as she recalled the event. She handed him his cup of tea, and for a moment she could even forget that the only reason that they were on the ship in the first place was to find the Avatar, for a moment she could forget that Zuko had changed 

His hand grazed hers as he took the cup, mumbling a small, “thank you,” before he took a sip. Looking out the small window of the ship, he realized he would never forget his banishment. His home. He quickly brought his attention back to Y/N, only to realize she was already looking at him. 

She brought herself closer to him on the floor, “what are you thinking about?” She recognized the look on his face, the nostalgia, the pain. 

If he was honest, he was now thinking about the small amount of space between them since she’d moved to be seated beside him on the mat. Though he responded, “home.” 

Y/N hummed in response, taking a sip of her tea, “you miss it?” She asked.

Zuko scoffed, “that’s a dumb question. Of course I miss it. Why wouldn’t I?” Y/N was tempted to tell him that he shouldn’t miss the home that cast him aside for thinking of the best interest of the people. The home that was ruled by the man who scarred him for life. The man he still seeked validation from. 

Instead she shrugged, placing her tea onto the floor of his room, “well I don’t.”

His head snaps up, eyes meeting hers, he looks to her incredulously, “what do you mean you don’t? We’ve been away for so long!” He exclaims, his temper beginning to show. It was rare for him to explode at her like he tended to with other crew members, Iroh had pointed it out to him, and though Zuko shut him down quickly, nobody could deny the accuracy of the statement. But they had grown up there, together. All of his happy memories, all of his dreams, his past and hopefully his future, were all there. Had that all meant nothing to her?

“The Fire Nation was never my home, Prince Zuko.”

He almost flinches when she uses his title. And she quickly changes the subject, though she can feel it lingering in his mind as they have their tea. 

She ended up falling asleep in his cabin after they talked for the rest of the night, awakening in the room she internally groaned, knowing what it would look like when she set foot outside of his room. Being on this ship for so long, she knew her fellow crewmates were looking for some gossip to spice up their lives a bit. Looking around, Y/N realized he wasn’t there. She brought a hand up to rub her temple she sighed when she sat up, deciding she’d go back to her room and get dressed before heading up to the deck.

They’d been coasting around Earth Kingdom waters that recently been put in Fire Nation control, and as she entered the deck of the ship, Y/N realized they had docked on one of the piers. The sea of people around the market made her wonder what the area could have to offer as she turned to look back on the deck, where Iroh had been seated with his Pai Sho board, along with several other crew members loitering in the area. “Good morning Iroh,” she said with a smile as she made her way towards him, “do you happen to know what we’ll be doing today?”

He smiled up at her, gesturing for her to take a seat as he responded, “well Prince Zuko was not very pleasant this morning, so perhaps something more violent.” He took the teapot on his side, “you should probably go look for him before my nephew does something unwise.” Iroh explained with a sigh, refilling his cup. 

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, suddenly grateful she hadn’t gotten comfortable and taken a seat when he’d offered it, “of course. He likely intends to do something irrational and stupid.” She cracked her knuckles, aggressively securing her dagger at her side as annoyance bubbled up inside her, “I’ll see you later Iroh.” 

She decided that if thugs hadn’t attacked him yet, she would, stepping off the ship and into the crowd. She slipped between the people with ease, making her way to some of the stands, shopkeepers yelling out deals as they tried to sell some of their products.

And then Y/N got distracted. It started out with a new dagger for her growing collection, then a new holster for said dagger which was now strapped to her leg along with the weapon. Would you look at that, with all this new stuff she was getting she’d definitely need a bag to carry it. Right? Right. Then it was some rare tea leaves for Iroh and new cookbook for the chef that lived on the ship, though it only served as a reminder that she was yet to eat. 

Making her way towards the part of the market that specialized in foods, the aroma filled her nose. Holding the strap of the bag tighter as she maneuvered through the busy market as she’d spotted a stand with a variety of foods. Y/N inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell as she reached the stand before picking out what she wanted to purchase. In the corner of her eye she saw cabbages and couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto her face. Bringing out her small pouch of money, she went to hand the shopkeeper some coins, but the old woman shook her head.

“The young man over there paid for your things already Miss.” She explained, “scary guy. Just shoved this bag of money at me and told me to keep the change while you were on the other end of the stand shopping.” Though she ended up pointing in the direction of this elusive ‘young man,’ Y/N already knew who it was as she turned around and saw Zuko brooding against a wall in one of the emptier parts of the market.

She sighed, “thank you ma’am. Have a nice day.”

The old woman nodded, and Y/N put the foods into her bag as well, grateful for the variety of pockets within it as she made her way to where Zuko stood. “She had cabbages. I’m shocked you didn’t attack her.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “where have you been all morning?” She pulled two of the bite-sized pastries she’d bought from the old woman, handing one to Zuko that he begrudgingly accepted as they began to walk down the empty street before taking a bite out of her pastry.

“Around.” Came Zuko’s response as he ate the small pastry. “I just wanted to browse the marketplace.” Y/N took another bite of her pastry as she listened, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. 

She scoffed, “Zuko, I swear.” They were entering a plaza, with a fountain in the center, “it’s my job to know where you are. I’m here to make sure you don’t die during your search for the Avatar, because I’m your right hand, remember?” She exclaimed, hoping he hadn’t noticed that she got side tracked in her search for him,

“You were my right hand. At home. Not that it was your home.” He corrected her pointedly. It was quickly becoming clear that her statement had bothered him, and he wasn’t going to let this go. 

She looked at him incredulously, throwing what was left of her pastry at his chest, causing him to roll his eyes and throw what was left of his own at her face, though she dodged it. Y/N raised her brows, taken aback by this statement and action. He continued to walk as she stopped, dead in her tracks, “oh, is that what this is about? Because if you wanna talk about that we can-” A deep exhale escaped her, followed by silence. 

Zuko’s brows furrowed, “what? Don’t wanna finish the sentence?” He asked as he turned around, only to find that she had a knife pressed to neck, and was surrounded by a group of men.

Of course it had been thugs.

One of them reached to the pouch on her side, yanking it from its place on her belt while the other looked up to Zuko, “you’re going to give us your money, or your little girlfriend is gonna die.” He threatened, pressing the knife harder onto her neck, drawing blood.

Inhaling sharply, Y/N managed to let a bitter laugh escape her despite the situation, “in case you didn’t notice, we had just been arguing. I doubt he has a problem with my death at this point.”

Zuko glared at her, “could you shut up for one minute?” He exclaimed.

“Oh, I think I’m about to be shut up permanently but okay Zuko.” She replied, a sarcastic smile on her face as he narrowed his eyes at her.

He quickly returned his attention to the thugs, who had exchanged looks due to the strangeness of the exchange they were witnessing. “Here’s what’s actually going to happen. You are going to let her go, and if you don’t, you’re going to die.” 

The man with a knife against her throat laughed, “and how are you gonna manage that?” He asked, his four companions moving forward to form a circle around Zuko, weapons in hand. “We’ve got the upper hand.”

“Well, I’m not going to kill you. My little girlfriend will. And,” Zuko paused, eyeing the men surrounding him as he cracked his neck, “you don’t have the upper hand. Not while I have Y/N.”

The man was about to speak when a dagger suddenly pierced his leg, causing him to yelp in pain, dropping the knife he’d held into Y/N’s free hand. She threw the blade in Zuko’s direction and he caught it with ease as he dodged one of the men that lunged at him. 

Y/N kicked her captor’s injured leg, causing him to fall to the ground and allowing her to slip her bag off of her shoulder, wrapping the strap around his neck as she rammed the hilt of the dagger onto his head, effectively knocking him unconscious. Turning around to assist Zuko, she had a deadly realization.

One of the men was missing. 

Everything happened rather quickly after that, she extended her hand, preparing to begin firebending at the man that was attempting to sneak up behind Zuko, except no fire came out. Instead, a whip of water extended from the fountain, slamming him into a nearby building. 

The other three men exchanged looks, stopping their movements momentarily, then taking a few steps back before breaking into a sprint in the opposite direction.

Y/N was still staring at her hand in shock, though her eyes soon rose to find Zuko staring at her as well, the look in his eyes unreadable. A shaky breath escaped her, “guess that conclude your search.” She swallowed nervously, squeezing her eyes shut as she continued, “you can go back home now.” 

“We should get back to the ship.” Came his response. “You need medical attention.” Moving towards her, she took a step back.

“Zuko-”

“You aren’t the Avatar, Y/N.” He stated firmly.

“Really?” She exclaimed, disbelief clear in her voice, “because it sure does look like I am. No one else is capable of bending more than one element!” She pointed out. 

Zuko shook his head, “the Avatar is an Airbender. You were born and raised in the Fire Nation.” He rationalized. “It’s not possible for you to be the Avatar, even if the Airbender is dead, the next Avatar would be from one of the Water Tribes.” Zuko opened his mouth to continue speaking but Y/N cut him off.

“Zuko.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “What are you doing?” 

In that moment he is silent, and she wonders if he’s reconsidering his choice. In actuality, a million thoughts are running through his mind, maybe he could fake her death? Tell them that she died in this town, let her live out her life in peace while he continued a false search for the Avatar. Maybe this was a fluke, or there was a Waterbender hiding in the shadows that saved their lives. Or maybe he was in denial.

The only thing he was sure about was that Y/N wasn’t going back to the Fire Nation a prisoner. 

“Protecting the only home I have left.” 

Because sometimes home isn’t a place. It’s a person. 

You can imagine their shock when they discovered the last Airbender.

a/n: are there two avatars? maybe. is the reader a dual bender? maybe. will we ever find out? idk

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko #zuko atla #avatar the last airbender #atla #lok #legend of korra #prince zuko #prince zuko atla #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #iroh makes an appearance #zuko atla x reader