#(and all this after finally being freed from years of slavery AND being left behind when her son was freed and “taken” away)

[qu4kerider]

“I hate them.”

ARCANE S02E01 & STAR WARS: EPISODE II - ATTACK OF THE CLONES

[cassynite]

For the fluff ask: how about confessing love when they're tired so they don't remember? For Sparrow and Dae :D

Thank you so much!!! Unfortunately I have once again ignored the spirit of these prompts so there is very little fluff if any--have some hurt/comfort instead :)

--

Daeran finds Sparrow curled up against the stone wall at the far end of the mining shaft, staring out at the abandoned crystal harvesting operation. The stones' otherworldly luminescence cast her face in a pale, sickly light, and her expression is blank and grave as she gazes out at nothing.

It is, unfortunately, an improvement. At least her posture is relaxed, limp instead of wound so tight her bones looked ready to snap. At least she doesn't flinch away when he drops to sit down next to her, though her near complete lack of reaction is troubling in its own way. She's like a puppet with her strings cut, and there is a very worrying second where Daeran wonders if something in her had broken completely when that smiling beast of a demon had snapped that collar around her neck.

But then she tilts her head in his direction, and her attention finally focuses on him. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I have no idea to what you are referring," he says. At her flat look, he shrugs. "I think your reaction to being manhandled into battle slavery was perfectly reasonable. Perhaps you could have smashed that demon's head a little more thoroughly when you stomped on his body--I think I caught some identifiable pieces of skull in the viscera you left behind. But other than that I had no complaints."

Sparrow doesn't laugh. "You know what I'm referring to. My behavior was inexcusable."

Daeran sends a quick mental curse Regill's way. It was the paralictor of all people who had found Sparrow when she'd retreated from the group, after she had screamed at them all not to touch her, after they saw the Cheliaxian brand on her back. He has no idea what was spoken of, but Sparrow had returned to the frantic group calmer, if brittle in her behavior, and had explained in short, blunt terms what Daeran had already pieced together with a dawning sense of horror: that she had never been Evaethi Arvanxi, lady of Cheliax, but Sparrow the slave, chained for years before the luck of Kenabres' destruction freed her.

 Such a complete loss of control, for so long--and then to have that new freedom ripped away from her again, and by demons? Quite frankly, Sparrow's reaction was rather tame in Daeran's opinion. No one but Irmangaleth died, after all.

Derenge certainly would have done nothing to alleviate the shame that hung on Sparrow's face, and Daeran wonders how much of her self-flagellating thoughts are spoken in his words. He curls his lip. "It happened," he says. "There's hardly any point crying over it. And, to be blunt, this is the Abyss. I feel that each of us are owed one good breakdown. You have officially gotten yours out of the way."

Sparrow finally lets out a small huff of breath, not quite laughter but close enough for Daeran's purposes. "Each of us? Let's hope the Hand doesn't do that. I don't know where we'd be without his purification ritual."

"You misunderstand. I spoke only of mortals. An angel should be well equipped to handle being trapped in a different plane."

She slumps against the wall--it's not just the sickly pallor of the Abyssian air that's left her looking so haggard. Exhaustion carves itself under her puffy eyes and in the corners of her mouth, as if she has not slept in the twenty-seven hours it has been since she was first abducted. Slowly, she lists to the side, until her head lands on Daeran's shoulder--the weight isn't as heavy as it should be, still tentative. Daeran stays still and feels the pressure increase as she finally relaxes against him.

"I would have told you eventually," she says after a moment. "About me. And my past."

"It was hardly required of you," Daeran says. "We are all entitled to our secrets."

"Still. I wanted you to know. I was..." A yawn. "Frightened, I suppose. It seems silly now."

He does not acknowledge the small shift inside of him that occurs at her words. Certainly, he'd had a sense of smugness for most of his time in the Crusade, the joy of being in on a joke few others were aware of--he knew before anyone else that Sparrow had not been her name before Kenabres, that she'd dropped her life as a Chelish noble like a hot coal to take on this new identity. Even after others found out, it was only Daeran who had met her when she wore the stiff black dresses of the Cheliaxian court and hid in the corner of Mendevian banquets.

But it was the noble specter that had been a lie, and Sparrow the truth all along. That realization, and all that came with it--the reveal of her tracking brand, her agonized explanation of her past--disputed many things Daeran thought he knew about her. And, to his horror, he had felt a sense of betrayal. She'd looked at him, at all of them, like she expected a blow now that it was out in the open. That she anticipated them to--what? Leave her to go fend for themselves in the Abyss?

Daeran is a selfish horrible person who tramples on others' feelings when it's convenient for him. But he had thought she thought him better than that. Which is absurd, of course. As is the relief that spreads through him as Sparrow lets herself be vulnerable in her exhaustion and her sorrow, and tells him that she would have let him know her most painful secret on her own terms, with enough time.

"Get some rest," he recommends. It's hardly a needed suggestion, considering how heavy Sparrow is against him. If she isn't already asleep, it's not for her body's lack of trying. "I imagine we will have many more delightful tasks ahead of us tomorrow to gain the attention of Our Lady in Shadow." He really should drag her back to the sleeping pallets, but that would require putting her in front of the fretful attentions of their other companions.

He knows what it's like to need to lick wounds in private. And if his shoulder is a comfortable enough pillow, he can endure for at least a little while.

"Hmmm," she says. "'Kay."

He snorts. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replies. Her voice is half-faded, already slipping into the realm of dreams. "Love you."

Daeran stops breathing for a moment, able to keep himself from jerking away through sheer will and the knowledge that it would be the worst possible reaction to her...declaration? But when he looks at her, she is finally peaceful in unconsciousness.

A slip of the tongue, then. But Sparrow has never been easy with affections, has spoken nothing even close to that intimacy in all their time together. If anything, she is too careful with her words, guarded to the point of affecting disinterest to those who aren't paying attention. He beats down the wild impulse to shake her awake, ask her if she meant it, as if he's some callow youth finally given attentions by some fine lady from across the dance hall.

Love you. Love you. The words circle in his mind, rattling around the sickening hollow in his chest. It's been there for over a day now, ever since Irmangaleth first put that collar on Sparrow and whisked her away. He doesn't want to think about those dark hours after, when everyone scrambled to come up with some strategy to save her and failing--he's successfully avoided thinking about any of it except what has happened right in front of him until this moment. But Sparrow's weight at his side hasn't lessened the chokehold of terror that throttles him, and her half-murmured sleep talking seems to only make him think on that period when he thought she was gone.

If it weren't for the ambitious tiefling giving them a way to take down the Battlebliss's master, Sparrow would have been gone. There is no way into the battle slaves' quarters without the key; none of them were strong enough to fight for possession of one. Iomadae's righteous Hand had disappeared with Sparrow--keeping her company and protecting her in what little ways he'd deemed appropriate, they'd learn later, but at the time seemingly abandoning them all with the goddess's champion captured. There had been a harrowing discussion of worst case scenarios, a tentative plan to escape the Abyss without Sparrow should her death be confirmed, even if it was roundly rejected on principle. No one wanted to admit that possibility that Sparrow was beyond reach.

Beyond reach. Gone, dead, worse. Trapped by demons, in a demon city, with no resources and none of her companions and her supposedly goddess-given powers useless. Trapped in, what he knows now, to be a nightmare powerful enough to nearly break her spirit. All he'd known was that he had no clear way to get her back--that he'd lost her.

Not lost. He keeps his breathing even. She made it through, as she always does, emerging victorious from the Battlebliss even if she was worse for wear. A good sleep, and she'll put on that mantle of Commander and trudge on with her head high, because he can't imagine her doing anything else. Protecting everyone around her with that quiet intensity of hers, leading them with her own inner light. Looking at him, over and over again, seeing past all of his acts and his banter to what he really wants to say, and responding to it.

Love you, she had said. The words circle in his mind as he leans back against the awful rough rock and closes his eyes. His hand drifts to her hair, not quite touching, but close enough that he can almost feel it, the weight of her presence. I love you.

He's no longer sure if the voice in his head is hers or his own.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Killjoys Never Die 2/15 - A New Normal

Chapter Summary:  After having found Jet Star in the desert, both of you have a lot of questions for each other (eventual) Pairing: Fun Ghoul x fem!Reader Chapter Word Count: 4 284 Series Warnings:  mentions of drugs; poor mental health; suicidal tendencies; insecurities; throwing up;  jealousy; slavery (?); experiments on living humans; eating disorder; graphic descriptions of: violence, injuries, torture, death

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

Recap: After three years all on your own in the Zones, you recover your dead believed friend Jet Star from underneath a Zombie-DRAC Mask.

The hideout you had brought Jet to after having freed him from the Zombie Mask, was one of the biggest you had. It contained the biggest supply storage, and the most space for people to walk around in. It had once been a small cave, which Kobra and Party had worked into an almost decent underground hideout, the only tell for its existence being the small trapdoor in the ground above you. But still even the biggest part of the cave was barely high enough for a grown man like Jet to stand up in, and no wider than a dozen feet.

The first thing you did after arriving, was show Jet the wide variety of clothes you had collected over the years. Some you had taken, when you had left the Diner, some you had traded for medicine or food, with whoever was willing to trade with you, and that were not many Killjoys.

“Here,” you threw Jet a bottle of water, and a small towel. Both of them carried the BLI-label, things you had raided from their cars. “You can get cleaned up over there,” you motioned to a corner at the far end of the cave.

Jet nodded, and began walking away into the corner you had pointed out when you stopped him.

“And- don’t drink the water. It makes you sick. I tried it once, and was knocked out for a week,” you warned him. Jet took a closer look at the bottle, and nodded with pressed together lips. Nothing on the bottle indicated that it was not good for drinking.

“I think I know why that is,” he said, making you look up surprised. “BLI drugs basically every water source, to make sure to keep people in a haze, even if they stop taking their meds. Besides, stopping the meds makes you super thirsty, and then you drink more of the water until you’re so drugged up you take the meds again.”

You looked at him for a long moment.

“How do you know all that?”

“I… I don’t know,” He admitted with furrowed brows.

You tried to give Jet as much privacy as the little space allowed so he could change. As soon as he was out of sight, you immediately began doubting the last hours had really happened. Was Jet really back? Nervously you listened, until you finally heard him murmur to himself about how awful the water smelled, and your racing heart calmed down a little. When he had changed, you sat him down on the hard ground.

“Are you in pain,” you asked, rummaging through your medical supplies.

“I don’t know what you did to my hand, but it hurts as hell,” he chuckled.

“Any headaches?”

“No… should I have?”

“They’ll come,” you assured him. “These masks, the Zombie Masks, they… suck into your skin. I’m not sure if this is how they establish the mental connection, since the normal masks don’t have this, but… they leave a sort of laceration on the neck. It’ll start hurting soon enough.”

Jet nodded, trying to turn to you as you stepped behind him, but you placed your hand on his head, and gently pushed him so you had good access to the back of his head. It felt strange, so casually touching another human, a living, breathing human, someone you cared about.

Brushing his locks aside, you revealed the wound at the back of his head, right where the atlas bone was. It had bled a little, most likely due to the ungentle way you had ripped the mask off, but otherwise it seemed fine.

“This’ll sting,” you warned Jet, pressing an alcohol drenched wipe made from old clothes against the wound. He flinched slightly, swearing under his breath, but tried holding still. “I’ll apply some ointment to help with the healing. This should be done twice a day, alright?”

Jet hummed in understanding, patiently waiting for you to finish treating the wound before you took care of his arm. Your best guess was that it was both bruised and sprained, so you wrapped it in bandages, before Jet helped you to tend to your own wounds, mainly the scratches he had given you in the fight for the mask.

He winced more than you did as he saw the injuries he had caused you, but having been the one who had always patched everyone up, he skilfully helped you to clean and bandage the wounds.

Once you were finished, you took a look at where once his right eye had been. You remembered the clash with BLI, where he had gotten injured. It had been when BLI had eventually gotten hold of the Girl, the first fight the Fabulous Killjoys had lost completely, the fight that had set in motion the events that had eventually lead to the death of your friends. Fun had gotten a brutal wound from the corner of his mouth almost all the way up to his ear, and Jet had ended up with a nasty cut, right across the right side of his face, blinding him in one eye. Afterwards he had chosen to wear an eyepatch, but of course under the DRAC Mask he had not needed one, so BLI had taken it off.

Now you inspected the scared tissue. The last time you had seen it, it had still been crusted with dried blood, angry, red, and slightly infected. But now the tissue was smooth, white. Three years made a lot of difference when it came to healing scars. Not all remained as fresh as the pain of losing your friends.

After that, considering it was already late in the afternoon, you grabbed two cans of PowerPup, and offered him one. Awkward silence fell as both of you dug into the disgusting food, both of you having questions, but neither sure if it was the time to ask them now.

You had eaten only a little more than a third of your portion, when Jet finally spoke up.

“The others are dead.”

You felt your throat lock up at his words, making it almost impossible to swallow the tiny bit of chemical nutrient you had just put in your mouth. After three years, and the thought of them dead still made tears shoot into your eyes.

“I know,” you pressed out, putting down the spoon.

“The Girl… did she make it?”

“She’s with Cherri Cola now.”

You could hear the hesitation in Jet’s voice as he asked “Why not with you?”

For a moment you considered lying to him, but if you wanted Jet to stay around, no matter how humiliating and painful the truth was, he needed to know.

“Doctor Death Defying… he didn’t trust me with her. Hell, he didn’t even tell me. I heard it a week later over his radio broadcast.” Your voice quivered as you tried to speak. “He left me hanging for a whole week, and I waited, waited for you to come back, for any news-” Angrily you brushed your hands over your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. “The first three days I still hoped, and then I realised you wouldn't come back. And- and then I find out the Girl is still alive, the only member of my crew, my family. I went to him and pleaded, pleaded – for him to let her stay with me, but he wouldn't even let me see her. Said I was too dangerous, too unpredictable. As if- as if someone unpredictable could do the work I do. I would’ve abandoned it, all of it, every thought of any experiment ever, if it had only meant to get her back, to just see her one more time. I would’ve protected her, would’ve taught her everything she might ever possibly need to know, I would’ve given my life for her, become the person she needed, but Doctor D was scared – is scared – of me. Just like the whole fucking rest of them.” The last words were spit with venom.

You could feel Jet’s eyes on you, carefully reaching a hand out for you.

“I’m so sorry. But we’ll get her back, alright?”

“We can’t. It’s too dangerous now. She’s safe with Cherri. He’s taking good care of her.”

“But it’s only been like… a week… two weeks top, right? I’m sure she’d rather come back to us than-”

“Jet,” you interrupted him, suddenly realising he had no idea how much time had passed. “It’s been three years.”

His spoon slipped from his hands, clacking against his almost empty PowerPup can.

“Three years?”

You nodded.

“It doesn’t feel like… how can that be three years?”

“The masks fuck with your sense of time and space. Some people have described it like a strange dream, where they’re thrown from one memory to the next without connections or knowledge of how much time had passed between them.”

For a while you sat in silence, both of you contemplating the conversation.

“Do you think they turned the others too? Into… into Zombies?” There was something akin to hope swimming in Jet’s dark eyes as he asked you.

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I thought the masks were developed after you had died. I never thought I might find one of you under a Zombie Mask. But if they did it to you, they might have done it to the others too.”

You thought of all the Zombie-DRACs you had killed without taking their masks off first, before finding out that taking the masks off would save them. Had you killed one of them? Had you killed one of your friends?

“Is there any way to find them?”

Again you shook your head. “I can’t even figure out the system after which they are patrolling. Without any additional information, I don’t think we can. We have to rely on luck. If they are even out there.”

Again there was silence, but the thought of your friends under these masks would not disappear.

“Jet-” His head snapped up as you said his name. “I have killed- I have killed Zombies. Before I knew they were different. Other Killjoys kill DRACs regardless whether they are Zombies or not. What-” your voice broke, but you forced yourself to finish the sentence. “What if I killed Fun, or Kobra, or Party. What if they were out there but I was the one that-”

“If that’s the case, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn't have known. You were trying to protect yourself, and they were already dead anyway. It wouldn't be your fault. But we don’t know if you killed them, and we have no way of finding out. We don’t even know if they were turned into DRACs. But...” he hesitated for a moment. “I have a feeling they’re still out there. Somewhere.”

You nodded; staring down into your PowerPup, you whished, you could share Jet’s hope. There were many questions you wanted to ask him, whether he remembered anything from BLI at all, or if he knew anything about the time he had spent under the masks, if you had clashed before, if he had met other Killjoys, if he had any knowledge of the growing rebellion in Battery City or if that was only a myth, just as the American Idiots, a crew that was rumoured to roam the plains between the city and the sea, no man’s land, uninhabitable. But one question, more than any other, had plagued you for three years.

“You wanna know how they died.”

It was no question, more a statement, with which Jet addressed you.

“Doctor D wouldn't tell me shit. Or maybe he didn’t know anything. I’ve just- I’ve had nightmares about this and-”

You did not finish the sentence, but you did not have to for Jet to understand you.

“They got Party first. Corse did,” Jet clenched his jaw. “He got him against a wall and just… with the ray gun to the chin.”

This time you ignored the hot tears that ran down your cheeks. You could see it clearly in front of you, Party’s pretty eyes, both scared and defiantly shining out from underneath his blazing red strands of hair.

“Kobra saw and lost it- he tried to do something, tried to get to Party. He was his brother after all. I cannot imagine what he felt in that moment. He let his guard down, and they got him.”

Bleached blonde strands wiping into shock widened eyes, the mouth opened for a scream. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the picture. Kobra was always quiet around strangers, but around his friends he was just as loud and carefree as his brother. Not a lot of people knew what his smile looked like, or how he smelled, or what his hugs felt like. But you did. You knew his sideways smile when he was amused by something, and you knew his hearty laugh when he thought something was absolutely ridiculous. You knew he smelled of ocean air, and burnt wood, and plastic cables, and you knew that he gave tight hugs that made you feel like a single hug alone could save the world. You knew he was the glue, the one who had held the crew together. Without him you would have split ways with the others many times, or they would have split from one another. But he had held you together, any group of you would just be that, a group of people, but with him, you had been the Fabulous Killjoys.

“I grabbed the Girl,” Jet continued his story, “carried her outside. Doctor D was there, and I remember thinking that I had to get her to that van, even if it was the last thing it did. So I turned, tried to keep BLI away from her until she had made it… they got me in the chest.”

He pulled down the collar of his t-shirt, enough to expose the upper part of his left chest. There, as white scar tissue, you could see the burns the ray guns had left, the wound that once had killed him. Over the years under the mask it had healed nicely, leaving behind slightly uneven skin, but no hint of how deadly the wound had been.

“What about Fun?” Of all your friends, the thought of how he had died had always hunted you the most.

“He was right behind me, as I took the Girl outside,” Jet recalled. “He… he closed the doors behind us, locking himself in with BLI, to buy us time. He sacrificed himself for us.”

More tears ran down your cheeks, as you imagined Fun making that decision. The black hair, the hazel eyes, the determined look on his face. That bastard never had feared anything, but just for once you wished he had, and had run. Maybe he could have made it. Maybe he would be with you now, if he had. But instead that idiot had had to play the hero.

“I’m sure he was thinking of you.”

Jet’s words made you look up at him. He always had had a good intuition, so maybe he had known even before you that you had begun liking Fun Ghoul. But he had never said anything, and now he did not have to put it into words, not now, that it was too late anyway.

“Who are you kidding,” you sobbed, “he hated my guts.”

“He didn’t. I know he didn’t.”

“The last thing I told him was that he was an asshole for not letting me come to Battery City with you, and that I hated him.”

“And in the car he asked if we really thought you did. He didn’t hate you. He just… didn’t know how to show he cared, not in the world we are living in.”

After you had calmed down from crying, you finished the rest of your poor meal, and set up the blankets for the night. Back in The Diner you had a bed, but out here, in the small hideouts, blankets piled on top of one another had to do. You did not dare telling Jet, but you did not feel deserving of the luxuries of The Diner anymore, not of the beds, nor the electricity, nor the running water, nor the space, nor the hot meals of fried PowerPup.

The night passed in a haze between sleeping and waking. Every time Jet stirred next to you, you woke up, alarmed that someone else was with you, and you only found peace when you linked you fingers with Jet’s, whose hand had fallen into the space between you. It felt weird, forbidden almost, to hold his hand, the hand of someone you trusted.

When had been the last time you had really trusted someone? Probably the day the others had died. You also had trusted Cherri Cola, and Doctor Death Defying. But Cherri Cola had his own problems, and while you would drop everything to rush to his aid, you knew he could not offer you the same. Not because he did not want to, but because he just could not. Both of you were better off without relying on each other. And Doctor Death Defying had broken your trust when he had decided to keep the death of your crew from you, and when he had decided The Girl should live with someone else, instead of you. He had betrayed you. So you had become the person everyone already thought you to be, hunting DRACs, no problem with experimenting with humans, merciless, dangerous, mad.

But holding onto Jet’s hand now, as you were lying awake in the cold darkness of the cave, it made you realise just how much you had hidden behind this version of yourself for the past years. Deep inside you were still the girl who Party had found shivering in the desert night, after barely escaping BLI. You were still the girl who was scared to hold a blaster, still nervous every time you took something apart in the hopes of being able to fix it. You just had learnt to hide it. Fake it ‘til you make it, the people always said. You had faked it so well, you had even convinced yourself.

~*~

The next days were hard, for Jet more than for you. He had still absolutely no memory of his time with BLI, and felt guilty for being unable to provide you with any information. You assured him that it was fine, and since he was very sleepy most of the time, you left him in the hideout while you rode from one hideout to the other, checking in on experiments, and trading with the few people who did not run away at the sight of you. You were the Killjoy's own personal monster, their nightmare, their death god.

But the days passed, and the moment you had known was coming for months now eventually arrived where you had to admit to yourself, that there were no new experiments to be conducted anymore. Not with humans at least. You had learnt all there was to learn, you had no further questions.

Your last subject had been a young man from Battery City, who had stopped taking his pills and gotten killed for it, before they had integrated him into their forces as a Zombie. He told you the same story many others had before. At a certain age at puberty, the pills stopped working. Some people continued taking them anyway, and eventually they kicked in again. Others stopped taking them, and ran away, and others again stopped taking them, and were caught. Like him. Like the others you had found. You had kept him in a hideout for a month because of the wound in his chest, which had needed to heal more before you were able to take off the mask, but even though he seemed to trust you, he had been unable to tell you anything about those teenagers who had run away.

After you had dropped him off at a petrol station, where other Killjoys would take care of him, you told Jet about him, and he came up with the theory that the pills stopped working because of the hormonal imbalance teenagers went through in puberty.

After a month of living with Jet, you switched hideouts, to a smaller one, closer to Battery City. His arm had finally healed without a problem, and he insisted on joining you on patrols. Together you killed countless DRACs, rescued as many Zombies as you were able to find.

Every time you spotted a DRAC with the infinity symbol of a Zombie, your heart beat harder in your chest, wondering if maybe underneath this mask you might find Fun. Or Party, or Kobra. But you never did. Sometimes there were more teenagers, sometimes a Killjoy, most often a member of BLI, who tried killing you but only ended up dead themselves.

Almost two months had passed, when one morning Jet woke you up with the words: “I remember things now.”

Over a cup of hot tea, made from bitter roots and hot water, he began explaining.

“There have been pictures for weeks now, but nothing was clear enough to make anything out,” he told you. “I remember some rooms now more clearly. One was like… a charging station. I don’t know how often, but once a month for a week or something like this, I guess, we were made to go in there. It looked like… like a community shower, and we would stand under these shower-head like things, that would move down and touch the masks. I think, maybe they had to charge the masks, so they could keep controlling us. Or they were feeding us. We never got real food, but didn’t starve so… or maybe they read out information of what we experienced. I don’t know. Then there was another room, one with a big map of North America on one side. It had a few cities marked in different colours. But I don’t remember which cities, and we were never told about the meaning of the colours. The map that was important to us was the one of the Zones. But the Zones only extended to the north, east and south. The west, we were told is dead land. Nobody lives there; no danger for BLI comes from there, so nobody ever was sent that way. We had numbers, and once a month there was a list of who would take which route. My number was FK-004. The routes were all over the Zones, no apparent pattern, most of them not even close to any Killjoy HQs.”

Jet proceeded to draw the routes into a map you offered him, as well as he remembered, again and again pointing out, how he was uncertain about their accuracy.

But this was brand new, valuable information. You were not sure what to make of that charging room Jet had talked about, but the map room seemed a lot more interesting. The list with DRAC numbers and routes were impossible for him to remember, but would have been useless anyway, since it had been over a month since he had last been there, and a new list was probably already in use. But the routes he had remembered, those were what you focused on now. Other than trying to understand the electronic circuits of the masks, you did not have a lot to do all day, so between switching hideouts regularly, you and Jet began checking the routes he had remembered. Some of them had been off, but over the next months you began correcting them, and were even able to reconstruct some other routes Jet had not remembered.

The nights were hard sometimes. The cold crept into the caves and holes you hid in, and Jet had nightmare, though their frequency decreased the longer he was free of BLI. Sometimes he remembered more, a tiled room, all white, with a chair, and blood running down a drain in the middle of the room. Surgical lamps and instruments, but never him suffering from their use, always other DRACs. Screams echoing down corridors.  His horror at having had no emotional response at them.

And just like that ten months had passed. Ten months in which you had fallen into a routine with Jet, ten months in which you had learned more about him than in the years you had lived with him and the rest of the Fabulous Killjoys. He was like your brother, and sometimes, on quiet evenings, you shared memories of the time from before BLI.

But neither of you ever mentioned Fun.

Kobra and Party often were subjects of your conversation, but never Fun. He haunted your dreams and nightmares, and whether Jet knew or not, he never brought him up. In fact Jet’s presence made you miss Fun all the more.

Sometimes you imagined falling asleep in his arms, or when it was your turn to guard the hideout throughout the night, you imagined him sitting next to you, telling you silly stories. Those daydreams were bearable, because you could control them.

The nightmares in which you saw Fun strapped to the chair in the tiled room, his blood running down the drain, the nightmares in which he got tortured and killed, over and over again, were beyond your control.

So were the dreams, in which he held you close, whispered words of love into your ear and against your lips, and placed gentle kisses against your skin. Those were well the most torturous dreams of them all.

Next Chapter - Vaffanculo

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[chemicalpink]

대취타 (daechwita) | Emperor!Yoongi x Reader | Part ONE

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

Words: 2.7k

Genre: Emperor AU, Historical AU (kinda), very badly written SMUT at the end, power play, angsty

Warnings: there is mention of death, killing, smut in public place, some traditional korean things may be wrong, mentions of slavery.

A/N: No thoughts, just Agust D.

Summary: You used to be an assassin, got caught and works at the palace as a servant up until you are escorted to the main palace, either to meet your inevitable destiny or for a change of plans.

OR

The one where Min Yoongi is an Emperor and is cocky and kinda of an asshole but you both get naughty nevertheless.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

After somewhere near to twelve months being forced to work at the Gyeongbok Palace, you have somewhat become accustomed to having both hands and feet chained while moving around the place with a sword always on the back of your head, ready to chop it off were you to do any funny business. It was no secret that there were hundreds of enslaved servants at Gyeongbok Palace that were once top tier criminals, and whilst most of them received a similar treatment, you used to come and go from your assigned place of work with half a dozen more guards than the rest. Just as you would expect it to be, seen as you were Korea’s most famous mercenary. That day, however, the sight of a hooded man completely dressed in black caught you by surprise. That was definitely new.

Your usual companion, a young royal guard named Jungkook, held your arm forcefully while he guided you through the sumptuous building where most public officials and gwageos of Korea made their home while on service. You both made your way through corridors,  sets of stairs and turned right more times than you deemed necessary just so you’d have the lesser chance of finding an exit out of wherever the man was taking you.

At least, that is what Jungkook pretended by doing so, but you were able o pick up his intentions and noticed how you had been up and down the same stairs in a matter of minutes. You also noticed how the dark-haired man was forcing you to zig-zag through different levels, even though Gyeongbok had the plainest structure inside it, just a few sets of stairs on the front and tons of long corridors inside. Truth be told, you would have been insulted if Jungkook weren’t to be that precautious. 

You both headed down a particularly long corridor where not the slightest sound could be heard except the echo of your own footsteps. Jungkook turned your way and stared, you smiled at him. He looked back to the front and grabbed your arm with more strength than before.

You took the gesture as a compliment, even though you had no idea what was the reason behind such a mystery, or why that hooded man dressed in black had exchanged a few words with the head guard before Jungkook had grabbed your arm and taken you away from your workplace by the river. After a whole day of washing who-knows-who clothes, seeing him planted there beside the other six guards you were assigned wasn’t exactly how you pictured your day to end like.

Nevertheless, you were quick to make out the exact words that were exchanged when Jungkook made himself known to the man guarding the main palace’s entrance, Jung Hoseok, captain of the royal guard. Soon enough, the sky above seemed to have darkened a thousand shades, the mountains that could be seen from the front yard seemed to have enlarged and you could have sworn that the earth had trembled under you. It had been a while since you had left yourself feel fear inside you.

You turned to look at the new hand holding your arm. The black leather from his glove, a perfect match to the rest of his attire.

You both made your way down yet another corridor and you managed to entertain yourself looking at the elegant forged sword that he carried. The gleaming pommel was shaped like an eagle in mid-flight. Realizing that you were looking at the weapon, Hoseok rested his gloved hand on the golden head of the bird. 

You had stopped for a second to consider whether you would be able to take to your advantage the lack of security and just shoot your shot at freedom, go berserk and use the captain’s weapon against himself, just like that old man that used to be in charge of you had chosen the worst day to push you roughly and ended up in a ditch. But there was far too much echo in the corridors to attack him without alerting the whole place .

Sometimes you wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to die the night you were betrayed and captured. However, while walking down endless corridors, there were already far better questions to ask yourself. Had they finally decided to behead you? It was a favourite of the emperor’s after all. Your stomach churned. After all, you were deemed relevant enough to be executed by the very own royal guard captain. But, if they were to kill you, why bother the tour around Gyeongbok’s corridors?

You finally came to a halt before some glass doors in red and gold, so thick that it was useless to try and see what was on the other side. Captain Jung Hoseok bowed lightly with his head to the other two guards that flanked the entry and they hit the ground with their spears in salute.

The captain once again grabbed you by the arm with such force you were sure he had let a bruise. He pulled you towards him, but your feet were unable to move.

“Would you prefer to remain enslaved, then?” he asked in a mocking tone

“Maybe if you’d tell me what is all of this for, I wouldn’t be so opposed to it”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long until you find out for yourself” 

Your palms were most definitely sweating. Yes, you were about to die. It was finally time to.

The doors opened with a crushing sound and before your eyes appeared a throne room.

“Here” groaned the captain as he pushed you forward with his free hand.

Being freed from the chains that held your feet together, you tripped over yourself and your bare feet slipped on the smooth floor when you tried to pick yourself up. You turned your head back around and saw six more guards that ported the royal seal on their garments make their way inside.

Fourteen guards plus Captain Jung Hoseok.They were part of the royal family's personal guard: ruthless and lightning-fast soldiers, trained from childhood to protect the emperor with their own lives. You barely managed no to choke on your own spit. Groggy and bewildered you turned your gaze to the front. Sitting on an ornate wooden and jade throne, a handsome young man awaited. Your heart stopped when you all bowed to him. You were before the very emperor of Korea, Min Yoongi. 

Both your eyes and the emperor’s crossed paths.

Min Yoongi offered her a smirk. One that hid a twisted intention behind it but reeked of royal charisma at the same time. Sprawled on the throne, his chin was propped up in one hand and his almost white-blond hair gleamed in the dim light. He wore a black hanbok on which the royal seal embroidered in gold tones occupied almost the entire bib.

Something in his eyes, and the way they contrasted with his almost white hair, took you apart. He was painfully handsome and should be less than thirty years old.

Emperors are not supposed to be attractive. They are whiny, stupid and disgusting creatures! But he ... he ... how unfair of him to belong to royalty and be handsome at the same time.

Min Yoongi stared at your tensed body and then raised well-groomed eyebrows “I wasn’t expecting you to be so young” he supported his elbows on his thighs “i’ve heard some fascinating stores about you, How’s life now after being used to all the excess you granted yourself before?”

Cocky son of a bitch.

“I couldn’t be happier” you hummed while digging your broken nails into your palms.

“After almost a year here, it kinda seems like you are somewhat alive, how have you been able to achieve it, when life expectancy around here for slaves is barely that of a month?”

“It’s still a mystery, I have no doubt about it” You gave the emperor a seductive look and repositioned the handles as if they were lace gloves.

The emperor turned to his captain

“Such a naughty mouth she’s got, huh? And she doesn't speak like a member of the mob”

“One would hope so” you exclaimed

“Your highness” snapped Hoseok

“Huh?” 

“You must address him as ‘your highness’”

You gave him a mocking smile and then returned your attention to the emperor.

To your surprise, Min Yoongi laughed.

“You are aware that you are a slave, aren’t you? Haven’t you learnt anything from this time you’ve been serving?” he started walking towards you until he was so close that you could easily appreciate the exquisite embroidery of his hanbok and smell the aroma that he gave off, not perfume, but woody and fresh nonetheless. Yoongi smiled.

“I demand to know-” you started but Hoseok pulled you with brutal force before you could come any nearer to the emperor “I wasn’t trying to kill him, you fool!”

“I would watch my words if I were you,” Hoseok said while burning his eyes on her

“i honestly don’t think you would dare”

“Oh yeah, and why is that?” 

Yoongi strode back to the throne and sat down. His gaze shone more than ever.

You looked from one to the other and made yourself stand taller.

“Because you want something from me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought me all the way here. I’m not stupid, you know? It is obvious that you are here in fulfilment some type of secret mission. You are testing me to find out if I am in good physical and mental condition. I know that I am not crazy and that I am still in possession of my physical faculties. So I demand that you tell me why you have brought me here and what it is that you need from me if my destiny is not to be beheaded.”

Both men exchanged a look. Yoongi joined the fingertips of both of his hands. “I have a proposition for you”

 “I’m all ears then” 

The emperor's eyes sparkled with amusement at your insolence, but they lingered for a moment too long on your body.

Min Yoongi crossed one leg over the other.

“Leave us alone” he ordered the guards “Hoseok, stay where you are”

You turned to the emperor “So?”

Yoongi limited himself to once again sprawl on his throne “I need some help with the empire. Someone that help me solve the...more complicated cases”

“So what you need is a servant that does the dirty work for you”

“In short, yes”

“So what happens if I agree?”

“After six years of service you will be granted your freedom”

“Six!”

“Five”

Although the emperor tried to hide it, you noticed that he was tense. He wanted you to accept. He needed you to accept so desperately that he was willing to negotiate. Your eyes sparkled.

“Make it four”

“Fine” he replied “It is a deal then. But if you fail, you will be beheaded” 

“My habilities are perfectly fine. Thank you very much”

Yoongi made a gesture with his hand to Hoseok “Take her to her chamber so she can take a bath” he stared at her “You have your first work in the morning. Do not let me down, Y/N”

Every work after the first seemed almost the same, after some official research, you were sent a brief coded message to your room that contained all the information that was needed for the job, the name of the culprit plus the usual places they used to hang out.

A few seconds worth of work were all piling up to your ultimate freedom.

Even thought you were the sword behind all of those crossed out names in the Emperor’s list, you were quick to find out that Min Yoongi was by far, more entertained and playful about the blood that stained his hands than you ever were.

It was a usual day after work that you found yourself enjoying the occasional luxury of the outdoors bathhouse that Min Yoongi’s personal Harem had to offer, minus the presence of the concubines that usually strolled around the palace, the moon shining on top of your head as the steam from the hot water raised highly from the temperature shock.

“I never took you for one to enjoy the luxuries that the concubine life has to offer, Y/N” you couldn’t exactly say you were surprised to see him standing behind you, the whole place was his after all “Should have made it cleared that this place is exclusively for me and my girls to have fun in”

“Yeah? I don’t see anyone else here though” you continued your bath routine but poked open an eye to tease him, just the way you had become accustomed to do so for the past year or so, left hand covering your boobs as you turned to him “Got stood up, again?” 

“Don’t you just love to play with fire, Y/N” though you had already turned your back to him and were convinced on carrying on with your bath, the sudden apparition of two hands holding your hips in place along with the wet kisses that were being left on your right shoulder made you think twice “I think it is time for you to get burn”

His right hand easily found its way down the water and started playing with your folds, your wetness getting mixed with the hot water you both were in, his mouth never ceasing to scrape every inch of skin he could find, his temperature rising by the second and his rock hard cock against your ass.

Your knees buckled unconsciously as two of his fingers were inserted into you and started pumping rapidly and you could feel him smirk on your back.

Your hand was quick to found his cock and pump it a few times a little too roughly “You know” you murmured as you turned to face him, making his hand drop from inside you as you watched his face contorted in pleasure “I don’t think it is fair of you, your highness” you could feel his thighs tensing as you kept on pumping him “to jump on a girl like that” you got close to his ear, grasping it between your teeth “I thought you said I was gonna get burned, what happened then?”

Something snapped inside him that made him slam you to the side of the pool while taking both your hands inside one of his own, having you bent over, his cock grazing your exposed pussy underwater. From behind you, Yoongi slowly teased you. You both moaned loudly, not caring if any guard that may have been in a nocturnal shift might hear you. 

Yoongi chuckled, knowing him, probably about to make a witty remark but you clenched your walls around him “F-fuck,” He moaned, his eyes squeezed tight, “You feel so good around my cock, so wet.”

There was no use denying that you felt so satisfied as Yoongi’s hips pressed into you, his cock buried deep inside you. Something you were trying so hard to conceal of not having dreamt about it before in the past year or so, pretend not have touched yourself to the thought of the Emperor wrecking you the way he did to his official concubines.

Yoongi’s cock twitched inside you. You felt your orgasm building within you, burning brightly. You threw yourself back, trying to prolong the sensation, rolling your hips.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer” Yoongi said behind you and you shook your hips teasingly, while turning your head with a coy smile “argh you’re such a bitch” He moaned loudly once again “But two can play that game”

The hand he had rested on your hips to keep his pace was soon to find your clit, pinching it, rolling it and driving you to the edge until it suddenly stopped, followed by the heat that erupted from within you when Yoongi cummed inside you, his hand releasing yours from his hold and slapping your ass as he laughed “Such a good girl but I have an early morning tomorrow” 

“Min Yoongi, you son of a-” 

“Later, Y/N!” he said, grinning widely as he exited the bathhouse. 

[ltwilliammowett]

Barbary Pirates

Pirates from the Barbary Coast of North Africa, also called Ottoman Corsairs, pillaged the length of Mediterranenan and north along Europe's Atlantic coastline for centuries. Their ship was the rowed galley, easy to sail and row near the coast and yet heavily armed. Because in the relatively calm waters of the Mediterranean merchant vessels could easily be overcome by the pirates' galleys. The favoured tactic of the them was to creep up behind  a ship, heave over grappling hooks and ropes and rapidly clamber aboard. The outcome of these encounters was almost invariably a swift victory for the pirates.

Spanish Men-of-War Engaging Barbary Corsairs, by Cornelis Hendricks Vroom 1615

These pirates were not only interested in loot, but also in slaves, and so the men of the captured ships who were not killed were made slaves. So also happened in April 1641, Revd. Devereux Spratt joined the vessel John Filmer which was carrying 120 passengers across the Irish Sea to England. They had not even lost sight of land before they were carried off by Barbary pirates as slaves. Spratt was lucky- he was ransomed after two years and was able to return home. Most of those snatched away suffered cruelly, chained to the oars in galleys, or forced into unremitting physical labour ashore, eventually meeting wretched deaths. No Chritian nation was immune.

Such was the extent of the Barbary terror hat parish churches in Spain and Italy kept locked collection boxes marked for the poor slaves. England even set aside an Algerian duty from customs income to finance redemptions. In 1646 Edward Casson headed a large- scale ransoming that freed 244 slaves, but these concerted efforts were rare- for most there was little hope. The Barbary slave trade even features in Samuel Pepys’ diary, in an entry from 8th February 1661:

‘…went to the Fleece Tavern to drink; and there we spent till four o’clock, telling stories of Algiers, and the manner of the life of slaves there! And truly Captn. Mootham and Mr. Dawes (who have been both slaves there) did make me fully acquainted with their condition there: as, how they eat nothing but bread and water. … How they are beat upon the soles of their feet and bellies at the liberty of their padron. How they are all, at night, called into their master’s Bagnard; and there they lie. How the poorest men do use their slaves best. How some rogues do live well, if they do invent to bring their masters in so much a week by their industry or theft; and then they are put to no other work at all. And theft there is counted no great crime at all…’

British sailors boarding an Algerine pirate ship, by John Fairburn 1825

In the 17th century they even raided the English coast from time to time which resulted in several hundred people being forced into slavery. From 1530 to 1780, a quarter of a million Christians are thought to have been in slavery.

Famous Corsairs

This kind of fighting technique and carping can be seen from time to time in privateers, which is why historian Adrian Tinniswood believes that the pirates were mostly renegade europeans who had learned their trade on privateers and warships. Therefore it is not surprising that there were actually Europeans who had made a name for themselves there.  

The Barbarossa Brothers

Oruç and Hızır Hayreddin were of Albanian Greek origin, who made a name for themselves as successful pirates. Oruç conquered the island of Djerba for the Ottoman Empire in 1502 or 1503. He frequently attacked Spanish areas on the coast of North Africa; in a failed attempt in 1512, he lost his left arm to a cannonball. The oldest Barbarossa also raged in Algiers in 1516 and conquered the city with the help of the Ottoman Empire. He executed the ruler  of Algiers and everyone he suspected would oppose him, including the local rulers. Finally, in 1518, he was captured by the Spaniards, killed and put on display. Hizir, who was mainly acting from land, several of him occupied many important coastal areas and was appointed chief admiral of the Ottoman Sultan's fleet. Under his command, the Ottoman Empire was able to gain and maintain control of the Mediterranean for over thirty years. Barbaros Hızır Hayreddin Pasha died of a fever in 1546.

Stephen Decaturs conflict with Algerine of Tripolis 1804, by Alonzo Chappell

Sayyida al-Hurra

She was a Moroccan princess of Tetouan born 1485. In Morocco, she gathered a crew consisting mostly of Moors living in exile and started pirate expeditions against Spain and Portugal to avenge the Reconquista, protect Morocco from Christian pirates and seek wealth and fame. Together with her allies, the Barbarossa Brothers, she founded the Barbary Corsairs. Sayyida al-Hurra became so rich and famous that the Sultan of Morocco, Ahmad al-Wattasi, made her his queen.

Of course there are more, but they don't fit in here anymore due to lack of space.

Action Between the Dutch Fleet (merchant convoy) and Barbary Pirates,  Lieve Pietersz Verschuier, 1670

The End

There have been many attempts to get rid of these pirates. In 1675 Sir John Narborough, supported by a squadron of the Royal Navy, succeeded in negotiating a peace with Tunis. A heavy naval bombardment by the British then led to a similar peace with Tripoli. Algiers was also attacked from sea, not only by British warships, but also by the French and Spanish. The United States waged two wars against the Barbary States of North Africa: the First Barbary War, 1801-1805, and the Second Barbary War, 1815-1816. Finally, after an attack by the British and Dutch in 1816, more than 4,000 Christian slaves were freed and the power of the Barbary pirates was broken. In 1830, however, this war was finally ended by the French.

[albino-whumpee]

Cage

Albus´ last day at the facility. Next up, we start with Sann and Robert´s training and meeting arc! I´m so excited to show you the new edited parts! Hope you like it!

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @crowned-avery @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70

CW// Dehumanization, pet whump, human trafficking, institutionalized slavery, conditioning, cages, shock collars, noncon hair cutting, needles, drugged whumpee, mentions of past torture, creepy whumper, hypothermia, dubcon touching and touch starved whumpee.

778900 had been taken out of his trainee room a few weeks ago. Dragged somewhere blindfolded by handler Harry himself and taken to a room much colder than the chains around his ankles and the facility.

The albino trainee went without resisting, but he hoped he was not on a freezer for him to beg the handlers to take him out, as their usual games went.

But when the blindfold was off, he was somewhere he didn´t recognize. He exhaled a cloud of fog as he barely moved his head to inspect the place.

It looked almost the same with the rows of cages on one wall and barely enough space to walk through the isle with two doors on each side. The only difference was that the cages there were a bit bigger. He could lay down on the aluminium floor.

They didn´t have a hook on one of the edges that connected to a shackle for his ankle either, or the four thick bars with the welded two locks he had learnt the hard way not to pick on.

It was plain metal with a lid in the middle.

Despite his trembling, he had crawled inside as ordered and had seen how the annoying light that had always made his eyes and head hurt, disappeared into the shadows with a swift slide.

Along handler Harry and the people coming out of the door wearing white coats.

It was pitch black inside and so cold, his fingers went numb and he couldn´t stop shaking even if he curled into himself as tight as he could. Their voices were but a whisper inside, in deep contrast to 778900´s own thrumming heartbeat on his ears and loud teeth chattering.

It took hours to feel warm and relax enough to let his eyelids close and sleep. Feeling strange about the relief he felt in the darkness. After all, it was the first time in very a long time, he didn´t have to force himself to sleep with his arms over his face, or against the floor just to try to get a second where he wouldn´t see plain white.

Sometimes, he dreamed he could merge with the walls. Walk further than the tiny trainee room and sneak outside through the corners. That just going around the concerete a sunny beach, with a warm wind and warm sand under his feet would be waiting for him. No shock collar locked around his neck or white walls and white floors.

Just the sea and the sky for miles and miles.  

He was woken up by handler Harry´s hand wrapping around his arm and dragged out of the cage to stand.

“Position One” the man ordered and his body moved to obey without thinking. Trainees won´t think when they get into position, something very far buried on the albino´s mind reminded him as he processed he had a blindfold on again and his hands were being bound behind his back.

He furrowed his eyebrows upon feeling something foreign…and soft. He twisted his wrists to hear the familiar cackling of chains but instead got the hushed sound of leather rubbing against his skin.

“Change of plans, ´900″ he said pushing him forward. His ankles were not bound, but he still stumbled “We still got training to do”

Even after weeks, the albino boxie still brushed his aching fingers against the soft leather. Barely believing that it really meant someone had decided to keep him. That wanted him to learn to read and write again for some reason beyond him.

He was going to get sent to his new owner soon, but after five years of waiting, he was suddenly terrified of what awaited him.

How would they be like? Would they be…like the handlers? Would they be nice? He shook the thoughts away and pulled his knees closer to his chest. The pressure of the shock collar on his throat never forgotten.

“Whatever happens, it´ll be better than here. Please don´t regret it, it´ll be better than here, it´ll be better than here, it´ll be better…” 778900 whispered to himself.

After a few days, the handler Harry Coleman took him out of the trainee room and instead of going to train, he took him to the showers.

He was used to seeing other platonics and domestics or even a few romantics bathing as quickly as they could on the large room without cubicles facing the wall and with their head down. Sometimes rubbing the odorless soap slowly because of the large purple spots on their backs.

That time however, it was only him and two others that left as soon as he beagn to shower. It had been a few weeks and even as cold as ice as the water was, he relaxed washing the grime off his hair, now long to his shoulders.

He was done just before the handler clicked his tongue for him to run over and wait for him to hear the permission to wear the clean white uniform again. But the man kept staring at the tablet on his hands as he threw him just black boxers with his number in blue and the company´s logo.

“Suit up, ´900″

To his amusement, he didn´t felt like fainting to read the words printed on them. Maybe a tight pressure behind his eyes, but he slipped the boxers on and followed the man to the next room.

The albino found the cold was more bareable inside. Almost warm, but maybe it was simply the plastic cape around his neck and the black leather chair he was sitting on providing it. He was surely weirded out to be ordered to sit on a chair and suddenly feel hands washing his hair with something that smelled nice and spicy.

778900 thought the woman rubbing his scalp with such calming movements, gentle and delicate must have an angel in disguise as the stress of the unfamiliar situation dissipated from his body for a second.

“Ok, stand up, boy. Sit on that chair and wait”

The boy wasn´t expected to answer, so he simply did as he was told and waited on the chair with his feet barely touching the ground. Not flinching or making any noise as the man tightened the belts around his wrists and ankles.

“How short?” the woman with a thick accent said, tilting his head forward and damping his hair some more. The trainee managed to control his flinching when he heard scissors snapping close to his ear.

“The prospect just put “Short” on their description” The handler shrugged “Do as you wish”

The woman brushed her fingers through his hair again, “Well, ain´t that helpful?” she said at the snap of scissors.

At each snap, the cape over his shoulders would slide down thick strands of hair into the floor. He bit his lower lip trying to not let the tears on his eyes slide too.

It was just hair that got grabbed to pull him around all the time. It was just hair that would grow again, but he quietly sniffed when the woman ruffled his hair when she was done.

She was no angel, she was just like the rest of them.

He didn´t need to see himself, it didn´t matter, so the woman only took the cape off and hopefully the handler didn´t comment on his reddened nose and eyes when they walked out or the half moons marked on the palm of his hands.

A door suddenly slammed open behind the albino. He heard someone walk inside carrying a heavy bag. He naturally turned his head at the noise but Coleman grabbed his chin to force him to look at him instead.

“Stay still, ´900″ the man said as the trainee´s chest heaved.

A belt went around his arm and was tightened harshly. Even when he winced, the other man´s held his grip around him. Not breaking eye contact while cotton coated with alcohol was rubbed into the inside of his arm.

He was terrified to move with the man above him, so when the needle went in that he only let out a pitiful sob that made the other man smile.

“That´s my good boy” he said letting go finally.

The albino jerked forward, slowly feeling how the warm liquid spreaded through his body. He wasn´t sure how much time passed before his primary handler freed him from the straps to then escort him through another set of corridors he had never seen. The place itself was a white maze you wouldn´t identify up from down if it weren´t for the metal doors and their tiny holes as mock-ups of windows. The trainee struggled to keep his eyes open. He had never seen anything but a blurred world, but at that moment, the world seemed like he was inside a washing machine.

“Last stop, 778900″ the man said suddenly, making the trainee give him a confused stare before turning his eyes to the room when he heard wheels against concrete floor. Rolling and rolling.

His eyes tried to find where the sound came from and stumbled upon a wheelbarrow propping up a wooden box with the company´s logo. By the whine that came from it as it was dropped next to another two boxes, he instantly knew what was inside.

His eyes slid ever so slowly, to fix on the two handlers putting another wooden box on the ground, just big enough for a person to fit. It was being wrapped in plastic paper, padded around the small incisions that would serve as breathing holes.

778900 finally understood he was going to be shipped today.

“Arms up to the sides, ´900″ the man ordered patting the inside of his arms before the boy obeyed and put his arms up even when he whined at the effort.

The man took something like a book from one of the tables with tools scattered around and set it on his chest. He whimpered softly at the cold. The man paid it no mind.

“Tape” he yelled at the other two. He was trying so hard to be good for the man. Stop himself from falling to his knees at any second and keep his eyes open. He closed his eyes for a second trying to subdue the sensation of his blood plummeting from his head to his fingertips, but at the stickyness of the tape on his chest he bolted aware, fully alarmed.

“H-Handler…” the boy shyly tried. The man held his right arm up and pushed whatever was on his chest tighter with the other hand.

“I said up, trainee” the man snarled as a warning.

The trainee lowered his head in submission and lifted his arms higher.

With a loud snap of his teeth, the man settled the last corner of the square on his chest and grabbed one of his trembling arms to push him closer to the box “Position three” handler Harry ordered and his body dropped to the floor like a ragdoll, moved to a sitting position, looking up with lidded eyes.

How many times had he been like that? Staring from down below at the brunette that would never touch him without his gloves, waiting for the baton or crop to cross his face or hands as punishment for giving his food away or when, so long ago, he had refused to be broken down.

But this time, the man took off the leather glove of his right hand and stroke his cheek. Whatever was running through his system right now, made it feel heavenly. He couldn´t hold his head to lean into it before the man snapped it back to it´s place.

“Number and designation, trainee” He smirked at the little tremble on the albino´s red eyes. Slightly saddened by the fact it would be the last time he would hear him say it. Well, if he wasn´t sent back to be refurbished.

“WRU, Facility 002, Platonic 778900″ his tongue rolled out as his eyes losed focus for a second. Jolting back to awareness when the man´s warm hand left his chin to slide his glove back on. “I´m a platonic companion and an active participant in fulfilling my owner´s wishes”.

“Correct, trainee” the man said passing his hands behind his neck and unlocking the shock collar with a click, coming off easily.

His hands twitched on his lap, wanting to check if truly, the familiar weight that had been there for five years was finally gone. Just like that. Gone. But 778900 knew better than that and curled his fingers into fists instead.

The next thing 778900 saw was the man´s almost invisible smile before a blindfold was fastened around his eyes and then was forced to sloppily crawl into the wooden cage, earning himself some laughter from the men. The other two handlers helped bend his limbs to fit inside the small box before it was sealed and rolled over in the wheelbarrow to the shipping truck.

The handler, #2375B, Harry Coleman, decided to do something uncharacteristic and sat until the truck with his trainee was out of sight, his view blocked by the sectioned metal door going down. Before going back to his tablet, the shock collar hung from his wrist like a bracelette as he finished up checking the dots on his company generated file to record the trainee´s reception to the shipping team and stash it on his files in case of a complaint about injuries came up and he didn´t have to take responsibility for it.

WRU´s handler finally hit the update box at the end and waited for the little circle animation to finish. A moment later a message popped up in his tablet, informing him the email to notify the prospect that her BoxBoy would arrive soon and was granted a tracking number had just been delivered.

Another perfectly trained boxie was in their way to their forever home.

Harry Coleman hit sent rejoicing in the feeling of a job well done before cracking his shoulders and going to 778900´s trainee room, the 042, to meet the new trainee under his charge that had just arrived a few hours ago.

“Be sure to not come back” he whispered as he threw the shock collar, still warm to the touch, into the bin for reconfiguration.

[jasontoddiefor]

Hi, i hope I don't bother you! I just read about your jedi!palatine Au idea and honestly it sounds amazing! Can you write a bit more about it/ elaborate it? Thanks! :D

You don’t bother me at all!!! Honestly, I love getting asks and talking about ideas! Everyone is always welcome in my inbox :D

And yeah, I’ve actually written the first scene of how I’d start the story? Here we go!

Luke had never been good at hating people. It took effort for him to actively hate somebody, to want to destroy them no matter the cost. Ben said it made him a good Jedi, Leia thought it meant he had a bleeding heart.

The only person Luke might have truly hated was the Emperor. So much suffering, so much death were his fault. There wasn’t a single person whose life hadn’t been ruined by him. It must be hate, Luke was sure.

But now he could only feel pity.

“They’re dead,” the child cried. “He killed them. He- he-.”

The boy couldn’t be much older than twelve, maybe even younger. His clothes were covered in his family’s blood and his throat quickly turning blue from the abuse he’d suffered.

Luke could end it now. Prevent so much useless pain and death with just one hit with his lightsaber. Cut down the source of almost a century of pain as easily as he had slayed his Master and yet-

“You’re safe now,” Luke said.

He crouched down and turned off his lightsaber. He had dealt with enough scared children since he’d joined the Alliance, the New Republic.

“He cannot hurt you anymore.”

The boy looked up at him with watery brown eyes.

“Who- Who are you?”

“Luke Skywalker-“ Kriff, should he have gone with a code name? Too late for that now. “-I’m a Jedi.”

Jedi, still known as peacekeepers, diplomats, teachers and mentors. They didn’t have a reputation as terrifying one-man armies yet. If Luke had anything to say about it, they also never would.

Regardless, the boy knew that Jedi were supposed to be good. As soon as the words had left Luke’s mouth, the boy flung himself into his arms, and started to cry terribly.

“It’ll be alright,” Luke tried to sooth him and stood up.

He ensured that the boy’s face was hidden in Luke’s robes, that he wouldn’t see his parents’ or their killers’ body. He had suffered enough.

Luke left the Palpatine estate behind, the child still clinging to his robes, almost 80 years in a past that would never come to be now.

X

So that’s what I wrote! The idea behind that is fairly simple actually? I looked through Wookiepedia for background info on Palpatine’s early life and I’ll be honest, it didn’t make much sense to me. He had not much family to speak of and wasn’t trained. It just seemed strange that despite being from a prominent family, and apparently so Force-sensitive that Plagueis was like “I want that” the Jedi weren’t familiar with him? So I figured, it would have made more sense if Plagueis abducted him and then I got thinking “wait. what if I fix that”. So Luke travels back in time - accidentally - kills Plagueis and figures good parenting can go a long while.

So Luke shows up at the Jedi temple after travelling with Sheev for a while like “yes, I’m totally a Jedi and this is my Padawan” and makes it his goal to annoy the Council into fixing their relationship with a Senate. He might have only experienced like 2 years of the New Republic before he was brought to the past, but Leia and he had made plans about how the Jedi should be treated.

So Luke tries his best at politics while teaching his Padawan. And, you know, some Force abilities are just innate in general. Used for the dark or light - doesn’t matter. And Sheev is a genius at mind tricks - and it worries Luke.  He knows what he could become and he does his best not just to prevent it, but to teach him better. So he decides he has to teach his dear Padawan how to use those powers responsibly and to show him what it means for someone to be without control.

So, by accident, he creates the Senate and Jedi Council’s biggest headache: Jedi Master Sheev “I will personally eradicate slavery” Palpatine, second only to equally “sorry what are rules I follow the first” Qui-Gon Jinn. Did you know they are the same age? I didn’t. They’d probs be the kind of friends who also hate each other. Either way:

Because turns out showing a teenager who had a nice childhood, got traumatizes terribly, and then a nice Jedi Master that slavery exists and is horrible makes him find his capital P Purpose.

(Luke is proud but also can understand how one man managed to trick everyone. Seeing a seventeen year old talk somebody out of owning slaves opens your eyes.)

And Sheev then gets a reputation for leaving the Jedi Temple with a couple thousand credits and coming back with dozens of newly freed slaves. He has a knack for picking up force sensitive people.

Luke is An Old Man, 80ish and not on the council anymore because  “I’m too old” *side eyes Yoda*, but helps out in the crèche. He teaches maybe one or two other Padawans, or spends a lot of his days seeking out other Force traditions and learning from them. He brings back his own grandpadawan from such a trip. Sheev and Maul make the strangest pair together but they work.

But yeah, one day while Luke is teaching a class and Sheev just decides crash the lesson asking “Master, didn’t you say your family was from Tatooine?”

“Yes, why?”

“Did you have any siblings by chance?”

“Sheev, What’s going on.”

“I just freed a mother and her son, both are highly Force sensitive.”

And then Luke gets to meet small three-year-old Anakin Skywalker and the weight he’s been holding for decades finally lifts from his shoulders as he figures that he has actually done it.

And idk maybe out of sheer spite or the Force what do I know, Luke manages to get old enough to see his younger self and sister be born and he dies peacefully, knowing that all is well.

Nothing Bad Ever Happens.

The End.

[dicapriho]

Important quotes to take from this article, that sums up perfectly why Daenarys’ treatment in season 8 was so heartbreaking..(long post with bullet points for easy reading):

Game of Thrones is "a world where women are often treated as disposable objects, Daenerys outwitted and overpowered her male enemies. As the sole protagonist in her own storyline, far from the rest of the characters, she was set up to be one of the few unambiguously [female] heroic figures in the series."

"in just a few episodes, she quickly transformed from a woman who has prided herself on saving the downtrodden to one who burns the innocent."

"[Daenerys’] treatment this season from the makeup of the writers’ room: The writers and directors on the show have always been overwhelmingly male, and women were shut out of both writing and directing jobs for every episode in season 8."

"Throughout her life, Daenerys has shown a commitment to justice...She freed the slaves in Meereen... When Drogon burned one child, she chained up her other two dragons, leaving herself more vulnerable...She put her fight for the Iron Throne on pause to fight in Jon’s war against the White Walkers [in the North where she knew she would feel unwelcome]."

"She was called the “Breaker of Chains” for a reason. When she misstepped, we forgave her, as we forgave, say, Tyrion for strangling Shae." [And Jon for killing a child for betraying him!]

“Daenerys has certainly used “Dracarys” to punish plenty of people during her reign... she always gave some compelling reason for doing so.”

She first used her dragon’s fire to kill a warlock who tried to imprison her, and again against a slaver who tried to cheat her...she crucified all the masters in retaliation for them having killed slave children — but they had killed children...She burned all the Khals who were threatening to keep her as a slave or rape her, or both."

Dany’s advisors gave awful advice:

"Daenerys agreed to make Tyrion her hand because Tyrion said he “knew things”...specifically, he claimed to know how to make alliances in Westeros and exploit people’s hate of Cersei in order to put Daenerys on the throne. Except, Tyrion did…none of that."

"...when did Tyrion convince a single lord that if they joined their side, they could get a new title and nice castle and see the land’s most hated woman [Cersei] burned to a crisp? Never."

"...what Tyrion did do: Try to cut a deal with slavers that would have kept slavery legal for a longer period of time, until Daenerys decided to burn their ships instead; convince Dany not to fly to King’s Landing and burn the Red Keep, which would have resulted in far fewer Kings Landing deaths; come up with the horrible plan to capture a wight that almost got Jon killed and lost Daenerys a dragon and still didn’t earn Cersei’s allegiance; convince Daenerys to trust Cersei, who has never proven herself to be trustworthy; forget to remind Daenerys that Euron and the Iron Fleet would almost certainly be waiting near Dragonstone, thus losing Daenerys another dragon; free Jaime from captivity in an effort to help both his brother and Cersei escape death at Daenerys’ hands..."

"Don’t even get me started on Varys, who didn’t write a single letter to a single lord to gain intel against Cersei or an ally for Dany but did find time to spread the word about Jon’s true parentage...”

“Tyrion and Varys were supposed to be her helpers. They failed her. Instead of owning up to this and realizing the part they have both played, Tyrion and Varys begin to worry that Daenerys is a flawed ruler exactly because she’s losing faith in them over their terrible decisions."

On the Sansa v Dany struggle:

"...The writers of the show cited much more petty reasons for their [Sansa and Dany's] conflict: “[Daenerys is] also very pretty, and how much does that factor in? Sansa starts off this season very suspicious and not at all friendly with Dany.”"

Her Isolation:

"In the last few episodes, Daenerys finds herself envying the love that Jon’s people feel for him...it’s destabilizing for her to arrive in Westeros and find that people are not eager to see her. Why, exactly, the Northerners don’t appreciate her dragons — without which they could not have defeated the Army of the Dead...."

"Daenerys rightfully glowers at Jon as his countrymen celebrate the fact that he mounted a dragon a couple of times when Dany has been riding one for years [Not to mention she is the first Targaryen in hundreds of years to have successfully mothered & raised/trained dragons]...In a mission to make Dany feel as isolated as possible, the show killed off her closest advisors, Jorah and Missendei."

"Daario is controlling Slaver’s Bay in her absence. Yara Greyjoy is sworn to her. In theory, the new Prince of Dorne would be allied with her since Daenerys struck a pact with Ellaria Sand. Daenerys could have called on any of these allies when she faced Cersei’s army but didn’t — simply because the show needed her to be alone ."

On Missandei:

"Game of Thrones fridged Missandei. There’s no other way to put it. Her capture and death happens just so Daenerys would feel isolated. The fact that the writers turned the only major black female character on the show into a device to motivate Daenerys feels even more cringeworthy."

"The fairly quick transition from complicated hero to totally mad villain leaned heavily on an oft-repeated line: “every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin”. But should Daenerys’ Targaryen blood necessarily doom her? After all, Jon is half Targaryen, too. So why does he get to sit comfortably on the other side of the coin?...The show has long been obsessed with various characters’ struggles to shake their family’s legacies. Tyrion killed his own father and joined Team Daenerys, only to betray Daenerys in order to help his family again." 

"Daenerys has long tried to differentiate herself from her father, the Mad King, only to become her father’s daughter."

"...the show’s most recent plotting flaws was Varys’ rushed decision that Daenerys was a terrible enough queen that he would endeavor to poison her — quite a stretch for a man who served under King Joffrey...Remember that Varys once wanted to put Dany’s brother Viserys, a demonstrable megalomaniac, on the Iron Throne."

"...when Varys found out Jon was a Targaryen, he began openly conspiring to undermine and overthrow Daenerys...He accused her of being paranoid while simultaneously conspiring against her, which means she had every right to be suspicious...Again, it’s a failure of the show that the man who was once revered as Master of Whispers walked up to Jon in the middle of a crowded beach and suggested he usurp Daenerys."

"Other rulers we think of as heroes in this story have executed men for less than attempted murder: Robb Stark executed Rickard Karstark for killing the Lannister hostages, against Robb’s orders...Ned Stark executed someone for abandoning the Night’s Watch...Jon Snow executed the men who succeeded in murdering him (before he was resurrected) including Olly, a young boy."

"...Jon betrayed Daenerys’ trust by telling his family, and Tyrion betrayed her — twice. Davos also betrayed her too for totally inexplicable reasons by helping Tyrion smuggle Jaime to Cersei...Her advisor’s lie to her and gaslit her, plain and simple. And yet the way that Daenerys’ destruction of King’s Landing is shot, we are supposed to see her as the irrational one and Tyrion as one of the victims of her terror."

"...either due to time restrictions or lack of source material or just plain lack of creativity, the show took shortcuts this season...And those shortcuts tended to rely on the laziest of sexist stereotypes about crazed, power-hungry women."

"Maureen Ryan at the Hollywood Reporter put it best: “Inescapably, infuriatingly, what we’re left with is apparently the central message of Game of Thrones: Bitches are crazy.” "

"...Had [Dany's] paranoia been seeded many episodes ago and grown over the course of several seasons, it would be an epic Shakespearean tragedy. Instead we must infer this descent based on her frizzy hair."

"Worse, the moment when she seemingly decides to rule with fear, not love, comes after she’s romantically rejected by Jon...” [Suggestible that the lack of requited love is a strong enough reason for a level-minded strong woman to fall into a pit of craziness, despite all the good she has ever done and vows to continue doing..]

"Varys suggested that Jon would be a better ruler exactly because he did not want to rule. Figures in mythology and history ranging from Moses to George Washington to Harry Potter have been heralded as heroes because they came to power reluctantly. Those figures also tend to be male. How do our stories cast women eager for power? As evil queens. And now Daenerys is a cliché."

"There have been a lot of problematic characterizations of women this season, as revealed by the writers’ own commentary surrounding the episodes...Sansa essentially parroted what the writers have been saying for years about her rape by Ramsay Bolton — that it made her stronger...and the showrunners called Cersei, one of the smartest, most vicious characters on Thrones, “just a girl who needs the comfort of a man..”

"...in the end, Daenerys cycled through several tired stereotypes: Another evil, power-hungry queen literally shot with a dragon’s wings behind her; the crazy lady that a noble man has to heroically overcome..."

Like Cersei, Dany was a character introduced in the first episode, who ws incredible meaningful in the narrative of Game of Thrones. Instead of going out with a bang, Daenerys’ death wasn’t a bang like she truly deserved, but a whimper and forgotten to emphasise the man’s conquer and victory.

[happy-beeeps]

I Don’t Do Droids Pt 4

Pairing: translator!reader x Din Djarin

WC:2.5k woohoo! Longest part yet!

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of space slavery, incredibly quick speed throughs of episodes 1 and 2 on my part.

A/N: We’ve jumped ahead! I wanted to start focusing on their relationship, and getting Yodito in the mix. Also, I’m sorry if anyone is disappointed that I skipped over massive parts of each episode, I didn’t want this to just be a speed through of the episodes. I probably won’t even touch on much of episodes 5 and 6, this is just a good spot to start! As always, if there’s something you want to see, let me know!

* * *

In the months you’ve spent flying with Mando, you had to admit, this was one of the weirder jobs you’d accompanied him on. The lack of information, the remote location, and the clientele had made this a much more… complicated mission.

Still, you had to admit. That shiny beskar pauldron on his shoulder glinter with just the right amount of starlight, you could imagine the motivation for finishing the job. Letting a glance linger on him a moment more, you tried to think what he’d look like covered in the silverish metal.

“What are you staring at vaar’ika?”

“Thinking about what your bucket head is gonna look like with a matching tin suit.” You responded, earning a quiet scoff from your counterpart. He relaxed back in his seat for a moment, before switching the controls to autopilot. “Gonna check the weapons. Can you watch the ship?”

“What did you hire me for?”

“Speaking mostly, you already excel at that.” He placed a gentle touch to the top of your arm, letting it linger just a moment too long before tearing his glance away. Even under the shield of his visor, his eyes felt heavy on you. “Right then I’ll just… watch the ship.” You smiled, turning your attention to anything, the stars bleeding into one another out the window, the dust under the controls, literally anything but the giant man standing behind you. Once you heard the door behind him close, you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The months you two had spent close together, waiting for him on the ship while he wrestled in a new quarry, hunched over children's books you had saved on your datapad while you tried to teach him new languages, your feelings for the Mandalorian had absolutely flourished. You hated it. Each moment spent with him was suffocating, you felt butterflies in your belly when he touched you, leaving scorching marks where his fingers had been.

All this fanfare for a man you couldn’t even see.

The sound of quick beeps brought you back into your senses, as you prepared to switch the ship off of autopilot. “Mando!” you called, and were met with the sound of bustling and clambering as he stepped back into the cockpit. The bright light of Arvala-7 soon came into view as he pulled the ship out of hyperspace, and you looked around at the landscape as you circled around to land. “Looks like Tatooine.”

“Not every sand planet looks like Tatooine.”

“Yeah, well, this planet also has Jawas, so it’s basically Tatooine, alright bucket head?” “There are no Jawas here. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Who’s the linguistic genius of this operation?” You asked, earning nothing but an exasperated sigh from the man next to you as he set the ship down in a seemingly deserted sand patch. “I still think there’s Jawas here.”

* * *

“Just, stay here. Don’t start anything.”

“You act like I haven’t been with you for months now.”

“And you have the blaster I gave you?”

“Alright thanks dad, go do your thing now. I’m a functioning adult.” The ramp lowers as he prepares to step out into the blinding sunlight before he turns to face you. “I need to train you more on a blaster.” With his final remarks, you’re left on the ship, with a tiny blaster gifted to you by the weapons obsessed man before he steps out.

He makes it, by your guess, maybe a tenth of a click away from the ship before he gets absolutely rocked by two gigantic creatures. You laugh for a moment, before realizing how long it’s taking him to get up. “Oh shit,” you mumble, before keying in the code to lower the ramp to run out to him. Once you’re out there, and the gigantic creatures face you, you realize how stupid you look, tiny blaster pointing at these huge animals, shots reflecting off their thick hide. “I thought I told you to stay on the ship!”

“Oh yeah you have everything totally under control here!” You call, while one of the animals tears itself away from Mando to come charge at you. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” you call out, sending shots at them and resorting to a run. You’re saved by a large shot to the animals side, more following onto the remaining member of the herd. You glance over at Mando, pinned by one of the beasts, when a small Ugnaught approaches, riding his own creature. “Thank you.” Mando offers, and you’re always put off by how reserved he is with strangers. If he’s quiet with you, then he’s radio silent to everyone else.

“You’re a bounty hunter?” The man offers him.

“Yes.”

“And you?” He says, looking over at you, where you stand. The two of you must be a sight, a battered Mandalorian and a you, clad in your favorite skirt and shortened top from a market stall in Naboo, you had prepared yourself for a day of comfort, and secret blaster practice while he got the quarry. “I’m his translator.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, looking pensive for a moment before giving a short and simple, “I will help you.” Mando looks over at you, and you glance up at the Ugnaught again before he speaks once more. “I have spoken.”

* * *

The Ugnaught’s camp is quaint, you happen to quite like it. Mando looked large and uncomfortable, nestled around smaller, homier things, but you happen to feel rather at ease. The man seems kind and blunt, two things you value, and it reminds of your home in Coruscant, or the small place you lived on Tatooine. Now, however, you are brought to the ever present mortality of your counterpart's profession, as you saddle up behind him on the bluurg he will ride to the location of the asset. You and the Ugnaught will return to his farm after dropping Mando off, you know better to mess with him and a quarry, and frankly, from the way it sounds, it would take a miracle for you to not die on the way. “Hey, Mando?” you start, as you stand next to him by the bluurg, “can you try not to die on this one?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Just… try double hard?” He looks down at you, holding your wrist for just a moment before softly speaking, “Is that the scarf I bought you on Devaron?” Before you could offer a reply, the Ugnaught returned. “We will leave when you’re ready. I have spoken.”

The ride to the asset’s location is long, and under different circumstances, probably enjoyable. Blurrgs were fun to ride, they way the bounded over the canyons made you feel free. The feeling of dropping off Mando at the encampment still clung to you like a wet rag. You couldn’t wait to be done with this bounty.

* * *

You appreciated that the Ugnaught (whose name you learned was Kuiil, when you realized that Mando had forgotten to ask) was kind enough to not only keep you at his camp for the night, but keep you busy. He was kind, talkative, and appreciated the help in small repairs. “You seem to have much knowledge of many things. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Naboo originally, I had a very expensive education.” “Naboo is wonderful, so I’ve heard. Was rule under the empire hard on your people?” The question struck you with some difficulty. The rule was by no means hard, you just happened to be unlucky. “Not entirely. I didn’t get to live there long. I enjoyed it very much though, I would love to go back.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I…  was studying to be a handmaiden for the queen. When I was twelve, the academy was attacked. We were picked off and sold into slavery. My owner fell into hardship, and freed all of us before fleeing the system. I was on Tatooine for many years before I was helped by a man. An old bounty hunter, who needed some assistance on a job. He gave me credits and contact, and dropped me off on Coruscant.” Kuiil hesitated for a moment before reaching over and placing a gentle hand on yours. “I was a slave for many years. I worked for my freedom, and now I live here in peace. I empathize with you. You would’ve made an excellent handmaiden, but I think you work much better with the Mandalorian.”

“Thank you. Although, I have to admit, he’s fun and all, but have you seen how fancy some of the dresses the Nabian royalty get to wear?” With that Kuiil let out a hearty laugh before patting your hand. “Get some rest. Your Mandalorian will return in the morning. He cares deeply for you.” He rose with this, and you stretched out on the bench in the hut. You shot him a confused look quickly, “What do you mean?” He smiled before walking towards the small cot in the far side of the room. “I have spoken.”

* * *

Kriff. He was going to kill you. Actually kill you, chop you into little pieces and then feed them to Kuiil’s blurggs. You knew it wasn’t your fault, Kuiil had assured you that Mando would’ve been in the hut with you too, but still.

Jawas had stripped the entirety of the Razor Crest. Every tiny piece. They even took the very thing you were looking for, the ceramic caff cup you got on Rodia. “Kuiil. He’s going to kill me.”

“He will not.” “He’s gonna drop me off at Mustafar and never look back.”

You spent the day assisting Kuiil with any repairs you could, and practicing your shooting at the abandoned part of his farm. Every passing minute made you more anxious, you needed him to be back soon, but you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel when he returned, and asked to go back to the ship.

It was nearly the following nightfall when he returned, and you could tell by the way he walked that he was not very pleased. You ran out of Kuiils house to meet him, “Mando!” you yelled, running towards him, he visibility softened at the sight of you, grabbing your arms before asking, “Are you ok? The Jawas took everything. Were you on the ship?”

“Mando I’m so, so sorry. I thought you said there weren’t any and I didn’t even think to guard it and-”

“We’ll deal with it somehow.” He responded, before turning his attention to the busted control pad on his arm, leaving you to soak in the adorable green bundle at his feet. “This is what everyone was searching for?” Kuiil asked, causing Mando to look up for just a moment.

“I believe it's a child.” he responded, leaving you to send them both a scoff. You scooped up the tiny baby in your arms before turning to them. “Ugh, men. Of course it’s a baby. It’s PRECIOUS.”

“Best to turn it in alive then.” Kuiil said, sending a sinking feeling into your gut. Turn it in. For some reason or another, this was a bounty, and it was Mando’s job to turn it in.

“I will take you to the Jawas to get your parts. I have spoken.”

* * *

You and Mando had returned to the ship, him absolutely caked in mud, and you still smirking over the memory of his butchered Jawa Trade Talk. The ride back to Kuiil’s was quiet, him brooding over the baby in its floating bassinet. He had mentioned something amazing had happened, but said nothing more. “You’re lucky they didn’t try and use Jawaese, you can barely get trade talk down.” You had teased, trying to lighten his mood. After a few moments of silence he retorted, “Says more about my teacher than me.” With a gentle nudge to your side.

Now, you were practically knee deep in parts, as you worked with him to repair the ship after he had bargained with the Jawas, and retrieved their weird fuzzy egg. The baby was beside him, enclosed in the bassinet, while he worked on finishing up some of the interior wiring in the hull. Kuiil had turned in for the night, leaving the two of you to work until you were exhausted.

There was something about seeing him like this, with the baby floating behind him, tools slinging off of his hip as he repaired the ship… he’s almost paternal. Your heart flies up to your chest as you watch him work in the soft work light you had loaned from Kuiil, and the warm fire that barely dripped in from outside the camp. In spite of yourself, you let yourself stare a little more, wondering if he’s handsome underneath that helmet. What color his eyes are. You’re almost sure they’re brown, the inviting and comforting kind. You can’t shake it, it’s the same desire you felt on Devaron. The woes of falling for a man you’ll never see. Your moment of solitude is up when he turns to face you, letting a breathy laugh escape from under his helmet-- so slight the modulator almost lets it by. “What are you staring at?” Maybe it’s the light, or maybe it was the chaos of these past few days, but you let yourself say it. “You.” He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to you, leathered hand snaking around your wrist. “Would you believe it if I said I was staring at you too?” You turned away from him, a deep blush spreading across your face as you tried to look anywhere but at him. “Your dumb visor blocks me out, how am I supposed to know if you’re lying or not?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” Your red faded into a pink as his hand snaked up to rest on your cheek, you leaned into it and felt him step even closer. “Can I trust you?” he asked, his voice soft and quiet. He leaned over and tapped out the work light next to you, plunging the hull of the ship into pitch black. “You can trust me.” You whispered, and his thumb traced your cheek for just a moment before he responded. “Good. Close your eyes” In seconds, you heard the sound of his helmet coming off, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing them closed with all your might before you felt his lips on yours. You sighed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers along the edges of his hair. It felt longer than you expected, but not unkempt. His breath tasted like caff, and something else you couldn’t quite place, and you could melt into how soft his lips were. This was perfect, this was bliss. You could die right here and now so help you gods. He pulled away far too soon, and you soon heard the hiss of the helmet reconnecting. “You can open your eyes now,” he murmured, and he was once again illuminated by the soft work lamp. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that,” he spoke, and you stepped towards him, placing his hand in yours, “Well, maybe I’ll just have to stare at you more often.”

[lauwrite1225]

Body and Soul || Finan x OC || Part 1/3

Summary : Finan is finally free from years of slavery. But his body and soul are broken. However he found in Saegyth, a way to recovery. To be a man, again. 

A/N : So, this is a really short fic which I had the idea of during my exams. There will only be three parts alterning between Finan and Saegyth point of view. I hope you’ll like it ! 

Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3.

Warnings: None

A raspy laugh escaped Finan's dry lips. It hurt his throat, but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t tell if it was happiness he was feeling, he hadn’t felt it in years, but he was sure it was close too. His heart was so light and yet it was beating so hard in his chest. It was like the life that was leaving Sverri’s body was now running through his veins. 

That was it. He felt alive. Alive and free. The words echoed in his head.

I am alive and I am free. Alive and free. 

And suddenly, as he realised the meaning of it, his body felt heavy. He fell on his knees, his legs to weak to keep him standing. He continued to laugh as he laid on the ground, his fingers brushing the grass. He stared at the sky and grabbed the wooden cross hang around his neck. He pressed it against his lips, thanking God for finally having mercy on him. 

“Are you alright?”

He let go off the cross and turned his head to the person who just spoke. For a moment, he was amazed by the woman who just crouched next to him. She had golden hair, waving in the wind like wheat in summer. For a moment, he hoped he had the strength to let his fingers ran through her strands. Her eyes were fascinating as well. They were made of a deep blue, but not like the sea he had been surrounding by for three winters. They were calm and reassuring. 

Her hand found his shoulder, catching his attention. He blinked several times before finally answering. 

“I think so. I’ve just seen an angel.” He said, a smile, at least he hoped it looked like one, forming on his face. 

She chuckled and for a moment he sweared it was the most beautiful sound he heard in ages. She removed her hand and grabbed a flask hanged at her belt. Finan pushed himself up with his elbow as she handed him the bottle. He drank all of it, his hand shaking. The water ran down his throat, appeasing the ache of it. 

“Thank ya.” He smiled, giving her back the flask.

“What’s your name?” She asked, hanging the flask back on her belt. 

He studied her a little more before answering. She was dressed as a warrior, a chest plate covering her upper body. He remembered seeing her fighting with the people who came for Uhtred. She wasn’t as skilled as the other warriors, but she fought with fierce. 

“Finan.” He watched her repeat his name silently. “Yours?” 

“Saegyth”

…

A whole day passed since they rescued Uhtred from the slave ship. Saegyth spend most of her day to help the last slaves still here. But there was one who didn’t leave. Finan stayed last night near the fire with them. 

Unlike most of the slaves she saw that day, the Irishman was more talkative. He spoke a little of what happened on the ship, what cost Halig’s life. Sometimes, his eyes were lost in the fire and darkened. The man saw much. Probably too much for one life. But almost all the time, his face would break in a smile. The smile of a broken man. 

Finan was asleep in the grass when Saegyth decided she should see how he was. She put down her bucket of fresh water and the clean clothes Hild brought back from a village near, and kneeled next his body. 

"Finan ?" She called him her hand on his shoulder. 

He slowly opened his eyes, a little confused. His fingers came to her wrist, barely touching it like to be sure she was real. As his fingertips grazed her soft skin, he smiled. She gave it back to him, studying his face a moment.

His skin was crackled and tanned because of the time he spent on the ship. His lips were in bad condition too, his flesh raw in some part. His face was half covered by his beard and his dark hair was leaving the ponytail he had managed to make. The state of the man was making her heart squeeze. She didn't know much of him, but whatever he had done, it could never be worth for such punishment. 

Her hand left his shoulder and she tilted her head. "You slept almost the whole day. I wanted to know how you were." 

"I’m fine." He answered, his eyelids half closed. 

"I brought you some clothes and water to wash you." She explained, her hands posed on the edge of the bucket. 

Finan frowned and sat up. He looked to the bucket, and seemed to hesitate. Slowly, he leaned above the water, his eyes widening as he stared at his reflection. One of his finger came touching the features of his face on the edge of the water, blurring his own reflection. Saegyth noticed the tears sparking in the corner of his eyes. 

"I hadn't seen my face in three winters." He declared, his gaze still fixed with his own. After a moment, he looked back to her. "I was still a boy the last time. I didn't had that beard." He chuckled even though Saegyth clearly heard the sob behind. 

She knew so little of the man and yet she couldn't help but feel so much for him. She felt this desire to help him deep in her heart. This will to learn who he was. And she knew he was much more than just a slave. 

Her hand found his face, her thumb rubbing his cheek to wipe the tears. 

"Let me help you to bring a little of that boy." She softly said. 

She searched his eyes in order to have some kind of answer. But he simply nodded and her hand dropped back to her side. She took a pair of scissors and started to roughly cut his beard. Finan's fascination about his own face started again. As she worked, Saegyth stared at him, wondering how he looked before. 

When she finished, Finan finally looked at her, his fingers lightly brushing what remained of his beard. 

"Thank ya." He said. 

"It's normal." She smiled at him. 

He frowned a little as he thought. "You are not a Dane."

"No, I am not." She laughed, sinking a fabric in the water. 

"And you’re not an abbess." He added, amusement in his voice. 

"Neither. I am a Lady." She declared as she met his deep brown eyes.

"I've never seen a Lady fought before." There was some admiration in his tone that she appreciated. 

"There's a first time for everything." She removed the fabric from the bucket and spinner it. "Can you remove your shirt?" 

He did, grabbing the edge of what remained of the shirt and removing it. Saegyth almost gasped when he revealed his body. He was thin despite his muscles, his ribs clear under his skin. His body was a parchment on which paint cans had been accidentally spilled. There was bruised of varied colours, from purple to yellow. Scars were forming straight lines, especially in his back. And she wondered if there was still part of his skin that hadn't been damaged.

"Where did ya learn to fight ?" He asked her, trying to take away her attention from his body. 

She swallowed and put the wet fabric on his arm. "Uhtred taught me when we were hiding from Danes in marshes." This was years ago, but yet it felt like yesterday. "I always wish to learn, but being of noble blood made it difficult. So, when my husband died in battle, I asked Uhtred to teach me." 

Since the first time she met the Half - Dane in Winchester, she felt some sort of fascination for him. Maybe it was youth, but she didn't regret pushing her curiosity. She discovered a man of honour and with a kindness unexpected for a Dane, after all she had heard of them. When King Alfred freed Ragnar, Uhtred's brother, she didn't hesitate to follow him to save him.

"I am sorry for your husband." He said, as he shivered when the fabric was now running in his back. 

"Don't be. He wasn't a man I choose and I was young when I was married to him." She explained, looking side as she winced.

She never loved him, neither respected him. He was a turd, to her, to other peoples and learning his death felt like a relief. She felt free and she didn't wait to experience that freedom. 

As she cleaned the most recent wounds, red and still swollen, she noticed the way his jaw clenched. How once more, his eyes were lost. And so, she spoke again, trying to distract him.

"Uhtred is a good man, King Alfred recovered Wessex thanks to him." She told him about the many plans Uhtred came up with. But also his stupid actions that cost him the gratitude of Alfred. "Uhtred is a good strategist in battle, but he still has progress to make in politics." She chuckled, putting down the now dirty fabric. 

He smiled a little, maybe he heard a different version of those stories from Uhtred. "But he is a good man." He repeated her words.

"He is." She untied his hair, dark dirty strands falling on his bare shoulders. 

Finan plunged his hands in the bucket and leaned his head. He splashed water all over his face and hair, running his fingers through it. His tongue licked droplets on his lips.

"Not salt water." He smiled, like he just discovered the existence of it. 

His joy for a such a subtle thing made her heart squeeze again. Her life hadn't always been made of happiness, but never simple things made her eyes spark like Finan's ones. He took water in his hands and poured it on his hair once more. Saegyth untied a ribbon around her wrist. She let her fingers gather his strands before attaching them. 

“What will you do, now?” She asked him, handing him a clean shirt. 

He grabbed it and brushed the cloth with his thumb a moment. “I thought… That maybe I should stay with Uhtred.” 

“You don’t want to go back to… To your home?” She frowned a little.

His gaze darkened and he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising before falling as he loudly exhaled. She bit her lips, regretting her question. She wanted to excuse herself, but he answered before. 

“No… There’s nothing for me there.” She nodded silently. “I'm free because of Uhtred. He gave me hope and strength to pass another winter.” He looked up to her, meeting her pupils. “I owe him tha’.” 

She couldn’t help but smile. The man lived hell for years and yet, he was ready to fight and serve a man, even if it could cost him his life. The strength he said Uhtred gave him, she was sure it had always been there in him. She put her hand on his and squeezed it lightly. 

“He’ll be glad and grateful.” 

As she removed her hand to leave, he grabbed it. She raised an eyebrow, surprised by his action. 

“Thank ya.” Finan said. 

“It’s normal.” She repeated.

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. No one has ever been that kind with me. Even… Before.” 

“It’s nothing Finan, really.” She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.

“Not for me.” 

She held her breath a moment. There was so much sincerity in his words. None of the other slaves dared to speak to her. Finan was broken, and yet the man didn’t disappear. 

“There’s a first time for everything.” She simply said and he let go of her hand.

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[sithsecrets]

Empress ⁂ Part 3

Engaged by her father to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, a princess navigates the dynamics of her new marriage while discovering her own power as a member of the Order.

—

3.9k words

Mentions: sex, swearing

—

3.

As soon as you wake up, you know immediately that it’s far too early for anyone to be even remotely conscious. And yet, there Kylo Ren stands, fully dressed and fiddling with something on his belt as if it’s a reasonable hour of the day.

“Do you always wake up this early?” You don’t mean for it to come out that way, but for fuck’s sake.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Kylo jumps at the sound of your voice, obviously not expecting you to be awake. “Did I wake you?” he asks, and you think you hear a bit of genuine concern in your husband’s voice.

Sitting up in bed, you shrug, rubbing at your bleary eyes. “No, not really. I was already half awake, and then I heard you move.” Whisking little wisps of hair out of your face, you stretch, shivering as the covers slip down your chest. You can feel Kylo watching you, and he has that same flustered look on his face, the one from last night after you’d gotten out of the bathtub.

“I train in the mornings,” Kylo says quickly, turning away from you to grab something off the dresser he’d been facing before. “It clears my head.”

“Your collar’s crooked,” you announce suddenly, because it is, folded down in the back where Kylo can’t see. The floor is cold on your feet, but you walk over to your husband anyway.

When you reach behind him to fix his shirt, Kylo flinches, almost as if you were reaching up to slap him instead. You hadn’t caught him off-guard, that much you know, and it takes you just one second of looking at the mild panic in Kylo’s eyes to realize that maybe there’s a reason he makes himself so mean and scary in front of other people all the time.

“When was the last time someone touched you without meaning to harm you?” You know it’s a rather personal question, but it’s also an important one.

Kylo pauses for a beat, swallows heavily, and then, “Before you came here?” He says this quietly, like a secret, and that’s enough to give you your answer. But still you nod, waiting.

“I don’t remember.” And then Kylo’s walking off, striding out of the room and away from you as quickly as he can. You sigh as you watch him go.

Your one regret is that his collar is still out of place.

----

You and Kylo don’t speak of your little incident after it happens. Thankfully, though, it doesn’t seem like the whole thing did any damage, because Kylo remains cordial you, even friendly.

The next few days are spent reading about Valdera, studying its leadership, making notes about which customs you should follow— and which ones you should strategically ignore. You’re fitted for a few new dresses, garments in the style of your home planet sewn in the colors of the Order, and you think that they’ll be a nice fit for the negotiations. In those sessions with the tailor, you also have a few new nightgowns made, ones that fit you a little better, ones with some pretty things sewn onto them. You think you look rather striking in them, and you can’t help but hope that your husband thinks so too.

The fact that Kylo has made no moves to consummate the marriage bothers you more than you’d like to admit. You were nervous in the beginning, unsure of how your husband would be with you. You’d been picturing a tyrant with whores, a powerful man who takes a different woman to bed with him every night, and you feared the idea of such a person focusing their sexual desires on you. But Kylo is nothing like that, not even remotely, and you think now that you would be comfortable giving yourself to him.

After more than a week, though, he’s not so much as expressed interest in holding your hand, let alone fucking you, and you’re starting to get concerned he never will. You wish he would just tell you what the problem is if there is one, or just flat out admit that he’s not interested. You could live with that— honestly, you could— and not having to think about sex anymore would take some pressure off of you.

However, you know that Kylo is attracted to you, you can see it in his eyes sometimes. He flushes when you walk around in your nightgown, sneaks glances at you while you brush your hair or put on your moisturizer at night. Deep down, you know it’s just something about him; there’s something in Kylo that makes him afraid of being intimate, and it’s clear every time he pulls away from your touch.

And it’s not even about the sex, really. Even though Kylo Ren is known as a tyrant throughout most of the galaxy, it makes you sad to think that someone beat the desire to be touched out of him at some point in his short life. You know part of his story, know that his parents sent him away to train as a Jedi. Then there was that awful attack on the other trainees, and it doesn’t take a genius to understand that Ben Solo died with those other children that night, too. But something else happened, something that came after the destruction of the Jedi that’s made Kylo Ren the person he is today— and that something is why he flinches like he’s about to be hit whenever you touch him.

----

The arrival of the Valderan ambassadors is fast approaching, and you’ve finally settled on how you’re going to handle them.

Valdera as a planet is mineral-rich and well-developed, with sprawling cities and a large population. From the outside looking in, one could think that the Valderans are an advanced people living in a progressive society with cutting-edge technology and strong leadership. But if, one bothered to look closer, however, they would see that not all is right on the planet.

Most of the grunt work on the planet is done by slaves, people stolen from smaller, weaker planets that share a solar system with Valdera. Valderan culture is patriarchal, which in and of itself is not inherently bad. However, Valderan men tend to take advantage of their power in society, subjugating the women around them in varying degrees. While the country does have a democratically elected leader, women are not allowed to cast their own ballots, and slaves can’t vote at all, regardless of their sex.

And that’s just the planet’s overall culture. The men who are coming to meet with you and Kylo, the ambassadors, they’re real pieces of work. They’re your garden-variety spoiled assholes, born into mineral money and raised in the elite. You know everything about them because of the Order’s connections, know that they both like to hide their money from taxation, know that they don’t put any of their immense wealth into charity.

Last Valderan spring, one of them married a seventeen-year-old girl. He’s in his thirties. You intend to fuck with him most of all.

In short, your goals are to dismantle the more oppressive aspects of the Valderan power structure, emancipate the planet’s slave, and secure the vote for all Valderan citizens, regardless of sex or societal station. You also intend to offer support to the smaller planets that Valdera has been leeching off of for years, and all freed slaves will be given the option to return home with the Order’s help, should they choose to do so. That’s really all you want to give them: a choice.

Naturally, these ambassadors are two men who will probably not take kindly to dealing with a powerful woman such as yourself. So, naturally, you’re going to you’re going to be an unmitigated bitch to them the entire time they’re on the ship. You will not show submission to anyone in their presence, you will not allow them to talk over you, and you certainly will not allow them to behave as if they have any real power. By the time you’re finished with them, they’ll be drowning in humility and falling all over themselves to do anything the Order says.

But to do all of this, to handle the ambassadors the way they need to be handled, you’ll need Kylo’s help. You’ll also need to keep him calm through all of this; you have a feeling that he won’t get along with these men easily, and how could he? These men have been handed all that they have. From what you understand, Kylo’s had to fight tooth and nail for everything he’s ever even had a chance at having.

Now, all that’s left is to brief your husband and work out the minor details where he’s concerned. Or, at least you hope it’ll be simple to iron out the details that still seem a little wrinkled in your mind.

You approach the subject with Kylo over dinner.

“I know what I’m going to do with the Valderans,” you announce, applying a bit of savory spread to a piece of bread with your knife.

Kylo swallows the food in his mouth, looks at you across the table. “Tell me,” he says, listening intently.

“It’s a rather simple plan, really,” you begin, talking around a small bite of bread. “I’m going to treat them like the spoiled children they are.”

Brow arched, Kylo asks, “You’re going to be unkind to them?”

“Oh yes,” you answer, “the entire time. They deserve nothing less, and they won’t cooperate otherwise. They both seem to be arrogant, proud people, and not in the way that’s sometimes beneficial for men in their position. By the time I’m done with them, we’ll be able to do anything we want with that planet.” Looking up from where you’d been cutting into your food, you eye your husband up and down shortly. “If I have you figured right, you’ll hate them.”

You can tell that Kylo’s mulling over everything you’ve said in your mind, can tell that he’s a little confused. “They’re just ambassadors,” he states, “they don’t really control anything. How do you know that the president of Valderan will cooperate with us?”

“The president of Valderan as it stands now is little more than a figurehead. He’s inhibited by all of the greedy men in his parliament, and that’s making it difficult for him to get anything done. In reality, he’s very progressive. He’s been trying to pass a mandate to end slavery on the planet for years, but all of the people who are allowed to vote don’t like the idea of that. However, if we come in and say that the Order has decreed that slavery on the planet come to an end, he doesn’t have to keep trying, and the matter solves itself.”

You go on to tell Kylo about all of your plans and ideas for the planet of Valdera, how you think the enfranchisement of women and the newly freed slaves will boost the planet’s economy, as well as garner support for the Order. Kylo listens with rapt attention as you explain how expanding the voter base will clean up Parliament during the next midterm election, nodding along as you go.

“That’s more or less what I was thinking,” Kylo tells you, “but that bit about offering the freed slaves passage back to their home planets at their discretion is genius.”

It’s so validating to hear him say that, to be praised for your plans. Back home, you’d only been used as a negotiation tool, a go-between for your parents and foreign dignitaries— you were never actually allowed to dictate policy or throw around ideas.

“That way, they feel like they have autonomy over the new path of their lives. Which, they do, of course,” you say, and it’s your finishing thought.

There’s a pause, just you and Kylo looking at each other in silence for a moment, and then he sinks back in his chair. “What do you need from me?”

“To lead the negotiations, obviously,” you answer, “but not in a way that undermines me. It’s very important that these men view me as a person with power.”

“But you are a person with power,” Kylo says, brows knitted together.

“I know, but these aren’t men who are accustomed to taking women seriously. It’s paramount that you treat me as your equal at all times. If it even appears like I’m just there as an accessory, the whole things ruined.”

You set down your silverware, finished with your food now. Swiping a napkin on the corners of your mouth, you pause, thinking of how to phrase this next bit. “But at the same time,” you begin, “you and I have to seem… familiar with one another. It’s important that they think we’re more than just allies, but lovers as well.”

The gears turn in Kylo head, and then everything seems to click. “Oh,” he sighs, flushing a deep shade of red, and you almost want to laugh. It’s always a bit comical to watch the Supreme Leader of the First Order squirm, especially over matters like these.

(Also, a private part of you thinks that Kylo looks quite sweet when he blushes.)

“I understand,” Kylo announces, and you can tell he’s trying to paint on an air of confidence. “Of course. Treat you as my equal and act like we’re… familiar. I can do all of that.” He punctuates his statement with a firm nod, and you lean on the table a little, truly nervous to broach this final aspect of your plan with Kylo.

“Yes,” you say slowly, “but there’s something else.” Kylo nods, cuing you to go on, and you swallow heavily. “Your ability to read minds… how does it work?”

Your husband flinches just the slightest bit. “You want me to read their minds?” he asks quickly, and you shake your head, waving your hand in front of you dismissively.

“No, no” you say slowly, “I… I want you to read mine.”

This only seems to shock Kylo more, causing him to gape at you openly. “For what reason?”

Just a sliver of agitation prods its way into your voice, because really, is he going to act like he doesn’t do this sort of thing every day? “I know you can, Kylo.” His name is strange on your tongue, and you realize not without a little bit of surprise that you’ve never addressed him this way before. “I felt it that first night we went to bed together. I asked you to be gentle with me when I thought we were going to have sex, and I could feel you in my mind.”

He’s blushing again, and the look in his eyes reflects something akin to shame. You reach for his hand on the table, breathe deeply, force yourself to dial it back a notch. “It’s fine. I wanted you to hear me then,” you tell Kylo, and the way he glances down at your hand on his isn’t lost on you. “But I need to know if it’s always that easy.”

A beat, and then, “Only if you make it so. Otherwise, I have to dig my way in, and… and that would be very painful for you.”

Sitting back, you nod and withdraw your hand. “So I just have to let you in. I just have to be open to it.”

“Yes,” Kylo affirms. The hand you’d been touching curls slowly into a fist, and then Kylo puts it in his lap.

“Is it possible for us to communicate that way?”

This is the most important part, the whole reason you brought up the mind reading thing in the first place.

Kylo nods. “If you’re open to me hearing your thoughts, you’re also open to me projecting my own into your mind. You’ll feel it, certainly, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“Can we try it now?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow. Kylo nods once more, setting his shoulders and sitting up a bit.

Doing the same in your own chair, you suddenly find yourself slightly nervous. You begin thinking of what you could “say,” so to speak, and as you look at Kylo, at the cut of his nose and the waves in his hair, you can only think one thing: You’re handsome.

You know at once that he’s heard you, because your husband turns an almost inhuman shade of red, flushed from his hairline down past his collar. And then you feel it in your mind, like an affectionate touch, like the caress of a lover: You’re beautiful.

And now it’s your turn to blush.

Once again, some sort of tension’s broken between the two of you, just the way that it did the night Kylo told you about your purpose in the Order. But this is a different sort of tension, one that releases something intimate as it dissipates.

“Do you not like it when I touch you?” you ask Kylo softly, voice low.

He swallows thickly, not quite meeting your eye. He’s almost whispering. “I… I like it too much.”

Shaking your head, you chide him gently. “It’s okay to like being touched, Kylo,” you tell him. “Everybody deserves affection.”

Still unable to look you in the eye, your husband looks instead down on his lap. His hands are fidgeting there, you can tell by the twitching of his arms.

“Give me your hand.” The command is a gentle one, but something in your tone implies that you’d rather not ask twice.

Kylo had taken his gloves off to eat beforehand, so his hand is bare when he lays it back on the table. You reach for it, gently clasping his fingers with your own, and you can’t help but notice the way that he tenses up. The skin on his palms is rough, calloused, but you decide you don’t mind. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles sweetly, gently, you hope that he’ll relax.

The tension doesn’t leave Kylo’s body, but he does make eye contact with you. It’s a start, you think to yourself. And then, just as you begin to smile at your husband, you feel his fingers squeeze yours just the slightest bit.

----

Kylo leaves shortly after he lets you hold his hand, still beet red as he stumbles over a string of words regarding a briefing with the Knights. You let him go, glad to have made some more progress with him.

You spend the rest of the evening in the bathtub as you so often do, thinking about your plans for the Valderans and about what’s just transpired between you and your husband. It’s not lost on you how strange it is, this attraction you have towards one another. You can’t help but marvel at how quickly you’ve developed feelings for this man, feelings that run a bit deeper than just physical attraction, as you’re beginning to realize.

Maybe it’s the marriage and the tone that it set for how you and Kylo began interacting. You came into this prepared to be a wife to a powerful man, and that’s certainly what you are—just not in the way you thought you would be. Maybe that’s what you’re attracted to, the power Kylo’s given you simply by agreeing to be your husband. But it feels less shallow than that, and you definitely see him as more than a rung in the ladder to the top. You know that you don’t care deeply enough for Kylo to call what you feel love, but you feel defensive of him nonetheless. If someone said something negative about him in your presence, you would give them a tongue lashing. If he were to become injured, it would upset you.

And of course, you feel a genuine desire to help him rule; you want people to bend to his will, you want Kylo to have the respect he deserves. He’s so smart, so capable. You know that he wants good things for the galaxy, you can see it in the things he wants to accomplish.

The feelings stirring inside you are strange enough to give you chills, and you can’t help but think back to what Kylo said about the Force choosing you.

You’re dressed for bed when your husband returns, soft skin swathed in one of your new nightgowns, and you greet him with a smile. The smile he gives you in return isn’t a real smile, but it’s a smile by Kylo’s standards— just a quirking of the corners of his mouth. You find it endearing anyway.

As per his usual routine, Kylo goes to take a shower after greeting you, coming to bed in comfortable clothes and with wet hair. He goes about organizing his things for the next day, and you watch, unable to stop yourself from admiring the lines of his body. He must be strong, you think, observing how his shirt stretches taunt over his shoulders, how his biceps fill out the sleeves. You know you should be ashamed of yourself from ogling him so openly, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you imagine what your husband must look like without all those garments on his body.

He’s got to have scars, you think, because how could he not? It was impossible when you met him not to notice the one that splits his face, and you’re sure that training alone has marked him with a few others, not to mention all of the combat he’s seen. You’ve always been intrigued by scars, always liked knowing how their owners came to possess them. Maybe it’s because you yourself have only one to display, a mark on your thigh you earned from a fall in your teenage years. It’s healed well, but it’s still there, still pulls a little when you move your leg a certain way, a permanent reminder of the past. You wonder what Kylo’s scars remind him of, certain that it’s nothing good.

----

In the space between sleep and wakefulness, you hear Kylo speaking to you, voice soft in the darkness of your bedroom. You aren’t quite awake, aren’t quite coherent, so you move closer to him, willing your heavy eyes to stay open.

“What was that?” you ask, reaching out to cup his cheek, brush his hair back from his face. All you care about is the warmth of his skin against your palm, how you can still smell his soap on his damp hair. You just want to curl into him, and part of you wonders what Kylo would do if you just did.

“Can I hold your hand?” Kylo must be repeating himself, eyes shining in the darkness as he speaks soft, soft, soft. It’s taken all of his courage to ask, you can tell.

“Mmhm,” is about all you can come up with as a reply, withdrawing your hand from his cheek so you can fit your fingers together. Eyes so heavy, you let yourself enjoy the warmth of his palm on yours as you begin to drift off again.

“Goodnight,” Kylo whispers, and you’re too sleepy to answer him.

----

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[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 8: Black and White (originally published on January 25, 2021)

Author's Note: At long last, the long-awaited conclusion to Part 1 of Steven Universe: Alternate Future is upon us! This may seem like an innocuous love letter to the mockumentary genre (I even watched This is Spinal Tap on HBO Max for inspiration), but the ending will change everything you will see in this chapter! But I'm through being dramatic, let's boogie!

Synopsis: A Black Rutile and her partner White Topaz want to get answers from Steven.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven, Onion

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst, Ocean Jasper

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Black Rutile’s Pearls

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth

Jennifer Paz as Lapis Lazuli, Zuli, Mean Lapis

Shelby Rabara as Peridot

Kimberly Brooks as Cherry Quartz, Jasper

Ian Jones-Quartey as Snowflake Obsidian

Michelle Maryk as Little Larimar

Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon

Aparna Nancherla as Nephrite

Grace Rolek as Connie

Crispin Freeman as Doug

Mary Elizabeth McGlynn as Priyanka

Tom Scharpling as Greg

Zach Steel as Ronaldo

Eugene Cordero as Jamie

Joel Hodgson as Mr. Dewey

Reagan Gomez Preston as Jenny, Kiki

Brian Posehn as Sour Cream

Lamar Abrams as Buck

Matthew Moy as Lars

Kate Micucci as Sadie

Alastair James as Rainbow Quartz 2.0

Shoniqua Shondai as Sunstone

Della Saba as Aquamarine

Charlyne Yi as Eyeball

Jinkx Monsoon as Emerald

Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate

Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite

Olivia Olson as Black Rutile's Citrines

Featuring Noël Wells as Black Rutile

And Lauren Ash as White Topaz

--

"Is the camera ready, Topaz?"

"It's ready, my Rutile!"

"You idiot, you forgot to turn on the lens!"

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, my Rutile, let me fix that!"

A camera was turned on inside a black-colored dropship, where a matching-colored Rutile in a green visor and white cape sat down in a captain's chair, confident and charming. "Hello, universe!" the Rutile greeted. "My name is Black Rutile, and welcome to Eye on Era 3, the special interview show where we discuss with Gems about the changes a certain Steven Universe brought to our proud culture!"

"And I'm White Topaz!" the Topaz operating Black Rutile's camera turned the lens to herself and cheerfully waved to the audience.

"Uh, Topaz, over here." Black Rutile ordered.

"Oh, sorry!" White Topaz muttered and turned the camera back to her superior.

"Anyways, we've traveled across the stars to chat it up with all sorts of Gems." The Rutile continued ecstatically. "From Pearls free from slavery, to proud Emerald pilots! Agates with no one to order around, Lapis Lazulis thinking they're lost in the world, and even a few fusions here and there! But today, we're gonna get answers straight from the mouth of this so-called "new Pink Diamond" himself!" she stated, making air-quotes while calling Steven the new Pink Diamond.

"My Rutile, we are closing in on Earth." A Citrine piloting Black Rutile's ship announced. "Is there any good spot you'd like to land?"

"Let's try that Little Homeworld place I've heard so much about." Black Rutile suggested. "We're bound to get tons of special guests there."

"Yes, your clarity." The Citrine complied, and she returned to her station.

"In case you were stuck in a Kindergarten for the past couple hundred years, Little Homeworld is where tons of Gems formerly corrupted by the Diamonds at the end of the Rebellion have made their home." Black Rutile narrated over footage of Little Homeschool. "The number one hotspot of this little bit of home is Little Homeschool, where Gems from all over come to learn how to mingle with the life on Earth and let go of the old ways."

"Hey, you think maybe we could go to that place, BR?" White Topaz grinned eagerly.

"Don't forget about our plans." Black Rutile said under her breath to her Topaz bodyguard. "I mean, we should be nearing Little Homeworld any minute now, so stay tuned!"

--

Gems began to gather when Black Rutile's ship made its landing in Little Homeworld, and the landing door opened to reveal its owner and her sidekick strolling out.

"Oh my, we already have quite a crowd here!" Black Rutile laughed into a microphone. "Now then, I'll pick a few lucky Gems from our audience here to answer some questions about their experiences on Earth." Looking around, Black Rutile managed to pick out Bismuth, Peridot, and Lapis Lazuli from the huddling Gems. "Ah, you three, over there!"

"Us?" Lapis asked.

"Could you care to tell us how life has been on Earth for you?" Black Rutile asked, sticking her microphone out to the trio.

"I've actually been on Earth about as long as Lapis here." Bismuth answered, gesturing to Lapis. "I was one of the original Crystal Gems under Rose Quartz, chosen because I wanted to build whatever I wanted, with no uppercrusts to order me around! But my methods of dealing with the enemy was a bit more extreme than what she was used to, so Rose took one in particular a bit personally and had me poofed & bubbled. In hindsight, maybe Rose was worried that her cover would've been blown."

"As Bismuth said, I was on Earth for a very long time." Lapis began speaking into the mic. "I was supposed to be there for only a little bit to assist in terraforming, but then I got caught in the war and was poofed before being confused for a Crystal Gem. I was interrogated while my gem was stuck in a mirror, but that kind of got cut short when the Diamonds unleashed their final attack and forced everyone to flee. I was left behind by accident, and someone cracked my gem by stepping on it, and years later, I was found by Pearl, who kept me in her gem until Steven freed me."

"Aw, what a happy ending!" White Topaz cooed.

"Yeah, no." Lapis sardonically corrected White Topaz. "After I was freed from the mirror, I nearly drowned tons of people because I wanted to get home, but then home turned out to be a lot different from when I left it. I was once again made a prisoner by Peridot and Jasper, who then invaded Earth because I met the Crystal Gems that everyone thought were defeated in the Rebellion, then I fused with Jasper to protect Steven, which took a number on both of our mental states, I was freed yet again, then I left Earth because I was told the Diamonds might be coming, before coming back only to get poofed by Yellow Diamond."

"Much like Lapis, I was only supposed to be on Earth for a short while to perform my duties." Peridot began telling her story. "I was supposed to check up on the old Galaxy Warp, but then the Crystal Gems kept getting in my way no matter what. Before I knew it, I was without help, without any working technology, and then without my limb enhancers. I don't think I even bothered to ask where the Gems put them."

"A Lapis, a Bismuth and a Peridot. What an unlikely trio." Black Rutile mused. "Tell me, what was it that made you three decide to work alongside each other in the first place."

"Well, it all began when Steven and the Crystal Gems left Earth to convince White Diamond to help them cure corruption." Bismuth said. "I elected to stay behind on Earth to watch over these two."

"Ooh, ooh, can I do a reenactment?!" White Topaz asked, to which Black Rutile responded with a sigh.

"Proceed." Black Rutile muttered, tapping on her camera to produce a light shining on the surface of the dropship. White Topaz began to shapeshift her fingers into various characters, and started a shadow puppet show.

"Bye Bismuth, I'm gonna go to Homeworld and hope we can convince White Diamond to help us save the corrupted Gems." White Topaz said, imitating Steven. "You do you kid. I'm gonna watch over those other Gems while you're away." She continued, now impersonating Bismuth. "Have fun!"

Steven's shadow puppet was raised into the air as White Topaz made rocket sounds, followed by turning more of her fingers into Peridot and Lapis. Black Rutile just gave an annoyed glare to the camera.

"Hey, where's Steven?" White Topaz's impression of Lapis asked. "Oh, him? He ran off to Homeworld with the Diamonds." Her mimicry of Bismuth answered. "Oh my stars, are we too late?!" an aping of Peridot cried out.

"Do I really sound like that?" Peridot muttered as the shadow play went on.

"No little guy, he's fine!" White Topaz's impression of Bismuth continued. "Just something about corruption or whatever."

"Okay, I think we've seen enough!" Black Rutile laughed awkwardly as she interrupted the puppet show.

"Aw, but I was getting to the good part!" White Topaz moaned sadly.

"To be fair, you were almost spot on." Bismuth stated. "When Steven told us through some weird watermelon creature that looked just like him that trouble was indeed brewing on Homeworld, Peridot and Lapis reformed not too long after and we came together out of a desire to help him out."

"United by a common goal, how quaint." Black Rutile smiled and folded her hands behind her back, trying to hide their fidgeting. "Now then, would anyone else like to come up and chat?"

"I would, I would, I would!" Teal Zircon cried as she pushed her way through the crowd. "Hi, name's Teal Zircon, nice to meet you!" she greeted Black Rutile while rapidly shaking her hand. "So, you wanted to learn about my time here on Earth?"

"You're awfully excitable." Black Rutile pushed up her visor by the bridge with a grin. "More to the point, I'd like to hear your story Ms. Zircon."

"Gladly!" Teal Zircon exclaimed. "Like many of the Gems here, I was once corrupted by the Diamonds and became a long-tongued speedster that Peridot tried to capture no matter what, through hell or high water. Eventually, she did succeed, and I was stuck in the barn she and Lapis called home, until the Crystal Gems took me to their place. One day, I was healed by Steven along with a Cherry Quartz and shown around Little Homeschool. That same day, Steven took me along to see a Jasper who didn't want to go to school, and I was willing to become her friend, but I'm pretty sure she hates my guts."

"I'll have to check up on this Jasper sometime." Black Rutile commented. "Now then, anyone else care to share?"

"I'd like to." Zuli answered as she flew up and touched down next to Black Rutile. "I only came here a few weeks ago after Steven recommended the place to a former friend of mine and me. We were terraforming this moon called Aozul 2, but Steven and this other Lapis that we were buddies with back in our terraforming days told us that wasn't cool anymore, so they taught us new ways to express ourselves. I was a lot more accepting, but my ex-friend didn't want to change. To this day, I still don't know where she's at."

"May I go next?" Cherry Quartz asked Black Rutile.

"Sure, go ahead." Black Rutile answered, passing the mic to the Quartz.

"I was an average Quartz soldier made to fight in the war, but then I got corrupted, of course." Cherry began. "Then Steven came along and healed me along with TZ, and introduced us to Little Homeschool. I was a little nervous at first, but while Steven was away, I met up with some fellow Quartzes who told me all about how great it was here."

"I was the first corrupted Gem Steven helped defeat." Nephrite said, taking the mic from Cherry Quartz. "I was actually brought back out a few times, the first was a complete accident & I was poofed soon after, but the second time was when Steven thought he could try to heal me, but instead he reunited me with my old crew."

"Okay, we're running out of time here folks, I got other people to interview, and I haven't got all day!" Black Rutile yelled. "Which one wants to cap off this part?!"

"Little Larimar and I wanna talk." Snowflake Obsidian answered. "Hi, I'm Snowflake Obsidian. This is my buddy Little Larimar."

"We were corrupted Gems too." Larimar said. "I remember when Steven dropped us into that fountain, and we were all right as rain. Then years later, he helped us all find jobs that he thought were right for us, but then hilarity ensued."

"Wow, pretty much everyone here has such nice things to say about Steven." Black Rutile commented while putting on an eerie fake smile. "Isn't there anyone on this planet that doesn't love him?"

"Well, there is Jasper, kind of." Bismuth answered. "I say kind of because I have no idea what's even up with her ever since she was uncorrupted. I mean, she does express a teeny bit of gratitude for it, but she still would rather stay as far away from us as possible."

"To be frank, I wouldn't blame her." Lapis agreed. "Anyway, if you want to interview her, she's in a cave in the woods nearby."

"Good to know, Lapis." Black Rutile thanked Lapis. "I do hope we can see each other again sometime." She laughed as she and White Topaz began leaving Little Homeworld. "Perhaps even sooner than you think."

--

"We've all had our fun in Little Homeworld, but there's still a Gem we've yet to cover as we move on with our tour of Earth." Black Rutile continued narrating while walking in the woods. "This Gem, in particular, has been living in the woods ever since she was cured of an unfortunate case of corruption, and refuses to join her fellow Gems at Little Homeschool! Well, let's see if she can tell us why."

"Is that where she's living over there?" White Topaz asked as she pointed the camera to a cave with a tarp over the entrance.

"I think you might be right!" Black Rutile exclaimed as she raced over to the cave. "Excuse me, does Jasper live here?!"

"No she doesn't, now get out." Jasper's voice grumbled from within the cave.

"If Jasper isn't here, then who are you?" White Topaz asked, forcing Jasper to emerge from her cave.

"Someone who's going to pulverize you if you don't leave me alone." Jasper snarled.

"But we just wanted to ask about your time here on Earth!" Black Rutile nervously explained.

"Guess what, I'm not interested." Jasper added. "Now let me repeat myself, beat it, or I'm gonna beat you!"

"I think we should do as she says, my Rutile!" White Topaz began sweating nervously and slowly stepping away from Jasper.

"Righto." Black Rutile agreed before they ran away from Jasper. "But trust me, I think she might be useful to us."

--

"Well, that went horribly." White Topaz commented the farther she and Black Rutile got from Jasper. "Now where are we?"

"I'm not sure." Black Rutile answered while gazing at a terraced house. "But I do believe we have our next interviewee!"

"Which is?" White Topaz asked her superior.

"The residence of one Connie," Black Rutile declared, bringing up data on Connie on her visor, but then stopped at her last name. "Moo-hee-swear-ann. Seriously, how do you pronounce that?" The reporter decided to brush that off with a shrug and proceeded to knock on the door. "Good day Ms. Moo-hee-swear-ann, my name is Black Rutile, here to interview you about your experiences on Earth."

"It's Maheswaran, in case you're struggling to pronounce it." Connie's mother Priyanka corrected the Rutile. "Now, can I help you?"

"Oh, my apologies." Black Rutile said. "You look a lot taller than my data says."

"I believe you have me confused for my daughter, I'm her mother." Priyanka stated. "If you wish to speak with Connie, she's busy with college preparations, so you can only speak for 15 minutes."

"Uh, question!" White Topaz raised her hand. "What's college?"

--

"So you're doing all this for a TV show?" Connie asked Black Rutile moments later in the living room.

"You could say that." Black Rutile answered with a grin. "I'm working on an investigative report chronicling everyone's experiences with Era 3, and I'm working towards interviewing all the Crystal Gems and their allies, you included little girl. Now tell me, how did you first meet little Steven?"

"Well, it all started a few years ago." Connie began retelling her first meeting with Steven. "I was minding my own business, Steven was trying to get my attention because he wanted to be my friend, but one thing led to another, and we were stuck in a bubble together."

"Not how I'd expect your species to make new friends, but you do you." White Topaz commented with a grin.

"Anyways, it's all thanks to him that I was able to get out of my comfort zone a bit over the years." Connie continued. "I learned sword fighting from Pearl, became able to fend for myself, and we even fused!"

"Yeah, we still find that a little strange." Her father Doug interjected.

"Fusing with humans, just like they said." Black Rutile whispered to herself.

"Did you say something, miss?" Priyanka asked.

"Oh, nothing." Black Rutile covered up what she just said before moving back to Connie. "It seems like you two are just inseparable!"

"Well, mostly." Connie stated. "When Steven let himself get captured by Aquamarine to save everyone, we were all so worried sick for him. And even when he came back perfectly fine, I still felt like this all could've been avoided if we fought together."

"Oh, poor little girl." Black Rutile comforted Connie, though with a secret hint of condescendence in her voice. "It must be hard to lose someone so dear only for them to come back and disregard your feelings by acting like everything's fine."

"It's okay." Connie said. "We did get back together eventually, and now our bond is stronger than ever!"

"Woo, love wins!" White Topaz cheered, inciting yet another angry glare from her boss. "Um, can I do the shadow puppets again?"

"Go ahead." Black Rutile frowned in embarrassment.

"Wait, your documentary has shadow plays?" Priyanka wondered aloud.

"Don't ask me; this was all her idea!" Black Rutile replied grumpily. "What a childish clod."

"Hey Connie, I'm back from Homeworld! Hope no one missed me." White Topaz began another puppet show, this time of Steven and Connie's brief falling out, while trying her best to mimic Steven. "We did kinda miss you, you could've died!" she continued while imitating Connie's voice. "I don't see what the problem is, I'm standing right here!" the Steven puppet replied carelessly. "Well, we could've stopped Aquamarine together, but you gotta make everything about you!" the Connie puppet declared. "So screw you Steven, I'm going home!"

"Wait, I didn't say anything like that!" the real Connie said nervously.

"Sorry kid, I'm just making this up as I go." White Topaz apologized, and just as she was about to continue her show, Black Rutile cut it short. "Aw man!"

"Well, I think we've just about wrapped up here, friends!" Black Rutile announced. "We've got places to be, people to meet, and more opportunities for me to be humiliated by you, Topaz."

"Well, it was nice to see you." Doug said goodbye as the two Gems left the Maheswarans' house. "Hope your documentary is a big hit!"

"Thank you; you're too kind!" Black Rutile waved back and closed the door, allowing some privacy as she scolded White Topaz. "Was it really necessary for you to go all "love wins" on us, you softhearted fool?" she scowled as they began walking away from the house.

"I'm sorry, I just think they're so adorable together!" White Topaz tried to justify her actions, before Black Rutile pulled her down by her collar.

"We have no time for sappy romances!" the Rutile yelled in her bodyguard's face. "We are here to gather information, and that's final! Are we clear?!"

"Yes, your clarity." White Topaz bowed her head in shame.

"Good, now where were we?" Black Rutile tapped on the side of her visor and pulled up a map of the surrounding area. "Ah, yes! Beach City!" she declared while the map began pointing to the little seaside town.

"Ooh, that place sounds fun." White Topaz commented. "Think maybe we could take a vacation there some time, just you and me?"

"Apologies, but we're on a mission." Black Rutile declared as she put the map away. "We'll have time for fun later, but it'll be my choice of fun. Understand?"

"Yes, boss!" White Topaz gave a comical salute, and the two began setting off for Beach City.

--

"Now then, this place should be full of Steven stories!" Black Rutile announced as the duo strolled into town. "And maybe we could find some of his weaknesses too."

"Hey, check out this funny sign!" White Topaz said while gazing at the sign for It's A Wash. "What do you think is a wash?"

"Hey new Gems, welcome." They heard Greg greet them. "If you came here to sign up for Little Homeschool, you should take it up with the Gems first."

"Oh no sir, we already saw that school." Black Rutile said. "It's all part of a series of interviews I'm doing for my show, Eye on Era 3. Which reminds me, how would you describe your experiences with the Crystal Gems?"

"My experiences?" Greg wondered. "Well, it all started one night when I was just a young rocker on tour. I had arrived in Beach City for a show, and Rose Quartz was the only one who showed up."

"Ah yes, Pink Diamond always had a fascination with humans," Black Rutile interjected. "often at the expense of her own kind."

"Yeah yeah, Pink kinda stunk, but don't we all sometimes?" Greg philosophized. "Like I was saying, Rose was the only one who came to my concert at Beach City, and from then onward, I felt like it was destiny. I even wrote a song about it!" He then walked to his van to search for his guitar, and began to play. "Do you believe in destiny? Close your eyes and leave the rest to-"

"I'm sorry, we have no time for a song." Greg's interviewer cut him off. "Could you please continue, sir?"

"Sorry if I was any trouble." Greg apologized, putting away his guitar. "The Gems didn't have a very high opinion of me when we first met, especially Pearl, but we were still able to get along with each other. Amethyst in particular took a liking to me."

"Speaking of which, are the Gems in town today, or are they off on some magical mission or something?" Black Rutile asked Greg.

"Oh, they kinda retired from going on missions now that everything's at peace." Greg answered. "But, Steven's still at home over there." He then pointed over to the Crystal Temple not too far away from Beach City itself.

"Yes, pay-dirt!" Black Rutile grinned eagerly. "Come along Topaz, we shall hit ratings dynamite!"

"Coming!" White Topaz cried as she raced after her master. "Hey, maybe we can chat with some of the people here along the way! They might give us some good info!"

--

"It was kinda thanks to Steven that I died and came back to life." Lars admitted to Black Rutile. "But also thanks to him, I came back as a completely new man with my own awesome spaceship, a serious attitude adjustment, and ever since I came back to Earth, I've taken up some combat training in case I ever go back to space and fight new threats, like I learned musti-yuddha from Connie's dad for example!"

--

"Lars's disappearance got me kind of depressed for a while." Sadie said while her band prepared for practice. "But I found a new way of expressing it with horror-themed rock music!"

"We had trouble finding our sound before Sadie became our frontman." Buck Dewey stated.

"And since then, we became an overnight hit!" Jenny Pizza exclaimed.

"But I have a feeling our differing paths might cause a break-up." Sour Cream admitted.

--

"Steven had good intentions when he helped me run for re-election," ex-Mayor Dewey said. "but ultimately I lost. But hey, I did find a new calling at the Big Donut!"

--

"I was having stress dreams about my sister making me do her work, which took the form of a giant pizza monster, until Steven used his crazy dream powers to help me out." Kiki Pizza said.

--

"I'll admit, I had a crush on Garnet once upon a time." Jamie declared. "But really, can you blame me?! She was just so stoic and radiant and-"

"Get to the point!" Black Rutile sternly ordered.

"I'm sorry, got a little distracted." Jamie apologized. "But I had since moved onto better things, like my future career in the theater!"

--

"Okay, that should be all." Black Rutile sighed in exhaustion. "Now then, let's not waste any more ti-"

"Wait, I want to talk to you!" Ronaldo cried out as he raced to the Gems with a notebook in hand.

"What do you want?" the reporter grumbled. "We're wasting daylight here!"

"You've been going around asking people questions about Gems, but this time I want to ask you for a change." Ronaldo declared.

"Okay then, fire away little guy." White Topaz said with a smile.

"There are still tons of unanswered questions about your kind that I must inquire about!" Ronaldo said while flipping through his notebook. "Like, for example, do you know who created the Gems in the first place? How was Homeworld first colonized? When did they start colonizing other planets?"

"I don't believe we have time for your questions." Black Rutile snidely shut Ronaldo's questions down before making her way to the Crystal Temple. "Come Topaz, we have work to do."

"Yes, my Rutile!" White Topaz obeyed and followed behind, leaving Ronaldo in the dust.

"You can run, but I will get my answers!" Ronaldo declared loudly, but he was too late. "And they're gone."

--

"Okay, Topaz, we have to make a good first impression here, so no silly games or shadow puppet shows." Black Rutile commanded as they ascended the beach house's front steps and reached the front door.

"Aw man." White Topaz moaned in disappointment.

"Quit being such a child you moron." Black Rutile exhaled in disgust as she knocked on the door. "Hello, is anyone home?"

"Just a minute!" a voice the two Gems were eager to hear answered as its owner raced downstairs.

"Oh my stars, the moment has come; he's finally here!" White Topaz squealed happily before she received a slap to the face.

"Hello, what brings you here?" Steven greeted Black Rutile.

"Steven Universe, at long last!" BR exclaimed. "I'm Black Rutile, host of Eye on Era 3, and this is my camera-Gem/bodyguard White Topaz! We're here for an investigative report on the state of Earth in this new era, and have been interviewing many of your family and friends."

"You're a bit shorter than I expected." White Topaz commented.

"I see my reputation precedes me." Steven declared. "Come on in."

"Nice place you got here." White Topaz complimented the house as she and her boss were shown inside.

"Thanks, the Gems helped build this place." Steven accepted the compliment. "Hey, I got a question. I've met a Topaz and a Rutile before, but they sound nothing like you. Why is that?"

"We're just special Gems. Comes with being former members of White Diamond's court." Black Rutile answered while sitting down on the couch. "But enough about us, let's talk you! Could you give us a little life story first?"

"If you want." Steven answered while sitting across from the Rutile. "I remember first discovering my powers like it was yesterday. I was super bummed that my favorite brand of ice cream was discontinued, but then the Gems told me they got tons of it from other stores, and taking a bite out of one coincided with me summoning my shield for the first time, which led me to believe I could do so by eating Cookie Cat."

"Hahaha, oh the innocence of youth!" Black Rutile chuckled nostalgically. "I remember when I first emerged for White Diamond. A real young hotshot, a little arrogant even. Could you tell us more about these powers, kid?"

"Over time, I learned tons of Gem powers." Steven regaled. "Like shapeshifting, control over plant life, making bubbles, telepathy, sticking my mind in others' bodies, but fusion gave me tons of new abilities. This reminds me of a story."

"Ooh, shadow time!" White Topaz exclaimed, but her happiness was immediately put to rest.

"What did I tell you?! No shadows!" Black Rutile yelled strictly at her sidekick, and then immediately changed her mood. "Please continue."

"All right." Steven was a little taken aback by Black Rutile's cold behavior towards White Topaz before he began his story. "Anyways, it all started when I had to take care of Onion for the day, and Pearl helped out."

--

"Thank you Explorer Gal for saving us from that dastardly Bandit Guy!" Rainbow Quartz 2.0 said, taking the role of one of Onion's toys. Onion was playing with Explorer Gal, who thanked the other toy in Onion's unintelligible matter.

"For your heroic efforts, please accept money." Rainbow continued while handing Onion a dollar bill. "Our city was a mess before you came along, but now…." Rainbow then began to break character as they took notice of Onion's messy room. "Well, I suppose it's still a mess." They commented. "It's been so much fun playing, but now we have to clean, which is also fun!" they declared while making a rainbow with their hands. "Are you ready to tidy up?"

Onion stared blankly while slowly sticking a piece of broccoli out of his mouth.

"Oh Onion, don't you be that way." Rainbow 2.0 chuckled. "Your best friend Rainbow will help you tidy up!" Just then, they pulled a parasol out of Pearl's gem. "Let's make things a little more animated in here!"

With that, Rainbow made Onion's toys come to life, and they began marching to their proper places in his room while Rainbow started a song. "Stick by stick, the little blackbird makes a nest." They began singing while making Onion's clothes fly into his dresser. "A mess to some, but the little blackbird isn't stressed."

Rainbow then allowed Onion to give the umbrella a try, making one of the boy's toy cars come to life and race away. "Stick by stick, the little blackbird makes a nest." The fusion continued while Onion marveled at the parasol's powers. "And then he naps, cause even blackbirds need to rest. The fun won't stop if you have a friend around. The fun won't stop if you have a friend around."

As Rainbow began to finish the song, Onion kept playing with the umbrella, making more of his toys come alive, along with a Venus flytrap. "And when you laugh, it is my favorite sound." Onion then discovered some darts in his drawer, and used the parasol to make them fly. "And that's what life is all about."

"What the?!" Rainbow stuttered before dodging the darts, making them land on a dartboard. With that, they finally decided to take their weapon back from Onion while noticing a stack of dirty dishes. "Next time, please wash your dishes." They instructed before sending the dishes off to be cleaned, and then taking notice of a stuffed toy in Steven's image hidden near Onion's bed, eerily waving to them. "And could you please explain what this is?"

Onion didn't answer, aside from blowing Rainbow a few kisses.

"Alright, thank you for the kisses." Rainbow thanked Onion before Steven's phone began to ring. "Just give me five or so minutes."

Rainbow un-fused into Steven and Pearl, and Steven answered his phone. Garnet was on the other end, holding her cellphone extremely close to her face. "Steven, you're late." Garnet said. "I need you for the Sunstone Safety Geminar."

"Oh no, that was today?!" Steven began panicking. "But Rainbow Quartz promised to hang out with Onion today!"

"Don't worry; I'll handle the Geminar." Garnet stated confidently. "I'll explain every possible future where they could get hurt around the house."

"I don't know if that'll be a good idea, I'll be right there." Steven responded before hanging up and turning to Pearl. "Pearl, I'll be back as soon as I can." He promised. "Could you watch over Onion for me while I'm away?"

"Of course." Pearl agreed. "Onion loves Rainbow, I'm sure he'll love me as much."

--

"In hindsight, that wasn't my best idea." Steven took a break from his tale to confess. "Onion can be a real handful."

"Like, how much of a handful?" White Topaz asked.

"Let's just say, he's a real oddball who loves causing trouble." Steven stated. "I can never really get a read on that guy, no matter how much of a good friend he is. Heck, he doesn't even seem to age normally!"

"So, about this Geminar." Black Rutile began. "You said Rainbow Quartz is a fusion between you and Pearl, but who is this Sunstone running that event?"

"Oh, Sunstone is the fusion of Garnet and I." Steven answered. "They're all hip and radical and like giving important life lessons, kind of like those old PSA characters from the 90s. Speaking of which…"

--

"I slip on the stairs?" Ocean Jasper wondered while watching a television screen with Garnet, the Heaven & Earth Beetles, and a Nephrite.

"Indeed, and you shatter on impact too." Garnet bluntly replied, causing Ocean and the Nephrite to scream and hug each other in fright.

"Garnet, I'm here!" Steven called as he entered the house.

"Thanks for coming, Steven, but I need help." Garnet stated. "I think I'm scaring our guests."

"It's okay; we got this." Steven assured. "Let's get this safety Geminar started with a very special guest!"

Garnet got up from the couch, and the two began to dance, eventually forming the totally cool fusion Sunstone.

"Your rockin' pal Sunstone's here to shine!" Sunstone announced merrily.

"Watch out Sunstone, it's dangerous here!" Ocean Jasper cautioned Sunstone.

"Not unless you guys practice home safety." Sunstone assured the scared Gems. "Don't slip up. Clear objects off the stairs." They instructed by taking a water bottle off the steps to Steven's bedroom and throwing it like a ball. "Foul shot!"

The bottle landed in a trash can near Lion, which prompted another tip. "Be sure to cover up your trash, or else you'll attract bugs or hungry animals." Sunstone demonstrated as they shooed Lion away from the garbage. "Come on, let's go!" they declared. "Don't waste water. Turn off any faucet still running." Sunstone then shut off the sink. "Put protective covers over your electrical outlets, especially when kids are around." They added while doing just that. "And don't even think about sticking a fork in there! But most importantly, turn off motion smoothing on the TV."

Sunstone then used the remote to operate the television, allowing clearer picture and sound for everyone. "Okay, hold tight gang, gotta take a phone call." They said. "In the meantime, check out this commercial."

--

"Well, seems like you had things handled." White Topaz remarked.

"Famous last words White Topaz." Steven gravely informed. "Pearl later called me on my phone because Onion was giving her a serious headache, so I came back to her to calm Onion down. Then Garnet was trying to do a home safety obstacle course, but that went horribly wrong."

"Okay, color me wrong." The Topaz guard said. "I suppose hilarity must've ensued?"

"Oh so much." Steven declared. "I tried merging both the Geminar with playing with Onion, but one thing led to another."

--

"It's important to keep in mind that all of these horrible things did happen to you in alternate timelines." Garnet instructed her seminar attendees near the lighthouse. "Safety rules."

"Hey, Garnet." An exhausted Rainbow 2.0 called for their fellow fusion as they flew in via umbrella, with Onion in front. "Would you mind taking on another student?" they asked as Onion was let off the umbrella. "I'm feeling a mite PLPBBT."

With one last raspberry noise, Rainbow un-fused into Steven and Pearl. Steven just groaned tiredly.

"You shouldn't have brought him here Steven." Garnet forebodingly scolded the boy as Onion took a seat in front of her with the Gems.

"No, no, it's fine. It's good." Steven stuttered, having had enough of the stressful day he had. "No one needs safety training more than Onion! I'm combining all of my responsibilities into one responsibility! It's brilliant, it's brilliant! It's fine. I'm fine. Really, it's fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."

Onion wasn't paying attention the whole time, and instead picked up a blade of grass to play like a musical instrument, hypnotically commanding the other Gems to follow him. And Steven was too busy assuring Garnet and Pearl that he was fine to notice too late what had just happened.

A madcap chase soon ensued, with the three Crystal Gems following Onion and the Little Homeschoolers throughout Beach City, into the woods, and finally to a hill, where Onion let go of the leaf. Despite that, Ocean Jasper, the Beetles, and the Nephrite continued marching to the point of falling over the edge.

"Oh no!" Pearl cried as the Gems fell off the hill.

"Steven, we need Sunstone to save them!" Garnet urged Steven.

"Okay!" Steven yelped, and they fused into Sunstone.

"No, we need Rainbow to save them!" Pearl began arguing with her de-facto superior as she swiped Steven away to form Rainbow Quartz.

"I'll catch them with this!" Rainbow declared as they presented their umbrella.

"Can't all three of us fuse to save them?" Garnet wondered just as Amethyst raced up to them.

"Hey wait!" Amethyst cried. "I need Steven!"

Rainbow un-fused so Steven could speak. "What is it Amethyst?!"

"I miss you, man!" Amethyst yelled. "I haven't seen you in like, eleven minutes! But it felt like even longer!"

Steven couldn't take it anymore, and without a single word, he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

"STEVEN!" Pearl screamed as she raced to Steven's side.

"I shouldn't have overbooked my schedule." Steven groaned one last time before passing out from exhaustion.

"Nooooooooo." Garnet unemotionally cried out in despair.

--

"Oh-hohohohoho, I know what it's like!" Black Rutile cackled as Steven finished his story. "Must be so hard to be so overworked at such a young age."

"Guess that's what happens when you're running a whole school." Steven chuckled in reply. "So, guess that should be it, right?"

"No, I'd like to speak with Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl first before we wrap up for today." Black Rutile answered, just as the Warp pad began glowing. "Oh, and look who should show up now!"

The core Crystal Gems stood at the Warp Pad, ready to kick back after the long day they had today. "Good thing it was so easy to get that crowd under control." Pearl exhaled. "Still, who was that interviewer they were talking about?"

"I believe that would be me." Black Rutile answered as she stood up from the couch to meet the Gems. "Hi, Black Rutile, intelligence officer of White Diamond turned news reporter. Pleased to meet you."

"I wasn't aware White had a court." Garnet said as the Rutile shook each of their hands. "Pleased to meet you too."

"I just got done interviewing Steven, and he told me the most hilarious story about his troubles with balancing two things at once." Black Rutile said.

"Yeah, things went kinda crazy that day." Amethyst reminisced. "But thankfully, everything went back to normal after that."

"Oh good, the way Steven ended things left me on the edge of my seat!" White Topaz exclaimed while positioning the camera to face the Gems. "One more question before we go, what would you say are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?"

"A little oddly specific, but okay." Pearl remarked. "I pride myself on orderliness, swordsmanship, and intelligence. But I can be a bit doting and perfectionist at times."

"I can be kinda foolish and impulsive, but I'm pretty much past that." Amethyst added. "I'm also more street smart than book smart, and super tough too!"

"I'm a very stable fusion, which especially helps in battle." Garnet said. "My future vision is also seldom wrong, unless the current timeline becomes too unpredictable."

"Well, that should be enough for now." Black Rutile said as she entered all of her data into her visor. "Apologies if we couldn't talk anymore, but I've got places to be and missions to go on, so toodles!"

"Hope we can see each other again, Black Rutile!" Steven said goodbye as the two visiting Gems took the Warp Pad back to Little Homeworld.

"Maybe sooner than you think." Black Rutile smirked before they disappeared.

"She's right, we'll be seeing her again many times." Garnet predicted with an adjustment of her glasses. "But none of them will be friendly."

Steven, Amethyst, and Pearl just laughed at Garnet's prediction, ignorant at what could be to come.

--

Upon returning to Little Homeworld and boarding their ship, Black Rutile and White Topaz finally left Earth and launched into hyperspace.

"Wow, those Crystal Gems really are swell!" White Topaz commented while her superior sat down in her chair. "I don't see why we're plotting against them."

"It's because they've become far too powerful." Black Rutile answered gravely, a far cry from the persona she put up on Earth. "Does Steven really think he can change our entire society with just hugging, crying, singing, and a cheeky one-liner? Bah, I've done so much better without any of those!"

"My Rutile, we should be exiting hyperspace above Revanche 666 in approximately 15 seconds." One of the Rutile's Citrines confirmed. "Would you like to inform your allies of your coming?"

"Bring Emerald up." Black Rutile commanded, cuing a video screen to appear, showing the tall, green Gem pilot on the other side. "Hello there, Emerald."

"Your clarity, has your reconnaissance ended well?" Emerald asked with a bow.

"Indeed it has." Black Rutile answered with a grin. "Those clods never suspected a thing!"

"And we got it all on video too!" White Topaz added.

"Excellent, we'll soon have everything we need." Emerald declared. "We're all waiting for you at the base, hoping you won't disappoint."

"Oh, don't worry, Emerald, I won't." Black Rutile replied. "That will be all." With a clap, the screen disappeared, and the ship exited hyperspace to reveal the skull-like planet of Revanche 666 before them. "Prepare for landing."

--

When the dropship finally landed at Black Rutile's headquarters, two rows of Pearls patiently awaited their master's return.

"Ah, my Pearls." Black Rutile announced as she disembarked. "When I ordered Shell to create all of you, I knew it wouldn't disappoint."

"Thank you, my Rutile." The Pearls thanked in unison while one of them took the camera from White Topaz. "Your minions await."

"Perfect." Black Rutile purred before beginning her stroll to her meeting room. "Come Topaz, we have much to do."

--

"Geez, what's taking her so long?" Lapis Lazuli 1J9G-5KL complained as she, Holly Blue Agate, Morganite, Emerald, Aquamarine, and Eyeball kept on waiting for their boss while seated around a round, white table.

"Patience Lapis." Aquamarine soothed her fellow Gem's annoyance. "She did say that she'd be arriving soon."

"The sooner, the better!" Eyeball yelled, pounding her fist on the table. "I want revenge on Steven for making me a pariah, and I want it now!"

"You're awfully eager." Emerald muttered to her fellow eye Gem before turning to Holly Blue and Morganite. "So, how goes that Zircon's democratic campaign?"

"That navel gem Ruby we planted as her campaign manager has been feeding her lies, and the Zircon doesn't suspect a thing!" Holly Blue answered excitedly.

"More and more Gems have been unknowingly swayed to our cause." Morganite stated. "Soon, we shall have an army strong enough to topple even the Diamonds."

Just then, Black Rutile and White Topaz finally arrived in the meeting room, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and salute her. "Welcome, your clarity."

"You're all too kind." Black Rutile thanked them sarcastically as she took a seat between Aquamarine and White Topaz. "I suspect your missions have been going well too, no?"

"Indeed it has my Rutile." Holly Blue revealed.

"That brat has been controlling us all for too long." Aquamarine declared. "Now it's time we take back our planet from those tyrannical pacifists."

"Are you all sure this is a good idea?" White Topaz asked the other Era 3 insurgents. "I mean, the Crystal Gems have become far too powerful to be challenged, and the Diamonds will no doubt come for our gems if they find out!"

"The Diamonds are yesterday's news!" Black Rutile roared, forcing her Topaz into silence. "And speaking of which, Steven may not realize this, but he's no better than his brat of a mother! Thinking he can force all of Homeworld to obey him by being a controlling twerp! Thankfully, he doesn't do so by throwing tantrums left and right until the Diamonds do what he says to shut him up. For now at least."

A Black Pearl entered the meeting room with White Topaz's camera in her hands, and she set it down on the table.

"Thank you my Pearl." Black Rutile thanked the Pearl before turning it on to reveal all the information that she collected on Earth.

"Is this all we need to know about the Gems in time for Phase 2?" Morganite asked her black-colored superior.

"You bet it is." Black Rutile declared with a sociopathic grin as she gazed at one of the holograms of Steven and plucked it out to hold in her hands. "You can have your happily ever after as much as you like, Steven." She declared evilly. "Cause your little Universe will soon be mine."

END OF PART 1: LITTLE HOMESCHOOL

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2: GRADUATION

--

At last, Part 1 is finally complete! And here, unfortunately, is where I must go on hiatus. Second semester of college and all that, and I think my classes might be harder than last semester. But hopefully, this cliffhanger should tide you over until we come back. Anyways, Black Rutile is finally upon us! A character that I think I'll have fun writing since I consider her to be like the Lex Luthor to Steven's Superman, the Frieza to his Goku, the Megatron to his Optimus Prime, the Aku to his Samurai Jack, etc etc. In other words, Steven's got a new archenemy coming and he doesn't even know it yet. Stay tuned! (evil laughter)

[jungkookienoona]

Rescue and Rehabilitation 1

|Masterlist|

Summary:

In a time where it’s no longer legal to own a hybrid, Jungkook is part of the Hybrid Rescue and Rehabilitation Unit. This is the story of how he found you.

~ Trying to make as little contact as possible he draped the blanket over you, covering your nudity and offering you some warmth. “There. You’re safe now.”~

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook X Cat Hybrid!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of child abduction, suicidal thoughts (but no actual suicidal thoughts if that makes sense), mentions of non-con (before fic takes place), mentions of Nazis, mentions of human experimentaion on minority races, hybrid slavery, abuse, traumatised Y/N.

A/N: I was planning to upload this as a one-shot but I feel like I’ll be able to write more if I actually break it up into a mini series. Also I need validation because I submitted an altered version of this as coursework and made the changes suggested by my lecturer... then got marked down for making those changes...

Edit: I’m a dumbass and forgot to tag two very important people who read through this before uploading. Thank you @mhysaunburnt​ and @namjin-fangirling-again​ so much!

Word Count: 2731

It was just another day on the job, probably another false lead with some kid trying to piss off their neighbour by having the police turn up at their door. But Jungkook had a policy. ‘Always investigate a call’, he wasn’t the best in his unit for no reason after all. What unit was that? He was part of the Hybrid Rescue and Rehabilitation Unit. 

Hybrids were originally created by the Nazis during the Second World War to be super soldiers. Those who were experimented on to create this new species of human were those considered “subhuman” by the regime: The Jewish and Roma people. Luckily, the allied forces stumbled across the concentration camp in which these experiments were being conducted before they could be deployed. However, this did not mean a happy ending for the hybrids. They soon found themselves being used as soldiers for the allies, with more being created by the Russians using stolen research notes and prisoners of war. They modified the reproductive organs of the hybrids so that they can breed and multiply, along with their aging accelerated so they could be of use sooner.

The use of hybrid soldiers turned the tide of war but they were not given their freedom. Instead they were repurposed into slaves where they were explotied for free labour and sex trafficking.  A decade before Jungkook was born it became illegal to own, breed or sell hybrids. This happened due to an increased amount of people protesting the way hybrids were treated. Hybrids had become the new slaves. Yet 35 years since the law was implemented, since they were freed, hybrids were still being used as slaves. Abducted as children and sold to the highest bidder. It was Jungkook’s job to find these hybrids, arrest the perp and help the hybrid to become stable before reuniting them with their family.

So, taking a breath, he adjusted his backpack then raised his fist to the fading white door and gave a resounding knock. 

He heard a grunt from the other side of the door before there was a loud thud accompanied by a woman’s pained shout. He frowned. That wasn’t a good sign even if there wasn’t a hybrid in there. Once again, he knocked on the door, this time somewhat impatient to see what exactly was happening in there. There was some shuffling before the door was opened to show a sliver of a man’s face. His hair was matted and shaggy, eyes sunken and somewhat glazed, and his skin was pale and dirty. Possibly in his late forties, early fifties. 

“What d’ya want?” This man really needed to see a dentist. Teeth stained brown from coffee and cigarettes, some even missing or rotting. 

Squaring his shoulders, Jungkook mustered as much calm authority as he could, “We got a call about a disturbance. Possibly spousal related.”

A small lie but from experience, he found they would never let him in if he outright said he was there to find a hybrid. The man looked sceptical for a second before opening the door wider, revealing his torn, stained clothing. 

“Fine, ‘ave a looky-loo but ya ain’t gonna find shit.”

How drunk or high did the guy have to be to think Jungkook hadn’t heard the commotion that had happened inside? 

“I’ll be the one deciding if I’ve found anything or not.”

With that, he pushed past the man to enter the premises. Jungkook gave a quick scan of the main space. Cigarette butts littered the floor almost carpeting it. There were signs of struggle. In the centre of the room was an overturned table. On the left-hand side to that; a torn-up couch cushion, torn-up in a way that resembled how a cat hybrid would. Jungkook noticed a strange mark underneath one butt covered area. Crouching down, he swept away the mess to see ten fresh groves dug into the flooring. Claw marks. The female voice must have been a hybrid. And where the marks led to must have been where she was kept. Following them, he ended outside a metal door. He jimmied the handle and found it locked. Normally an officer would ask the occupant of the premises to unlock doors for them. But Jungkook wasn’t going to risk being ran out of the building. 

Once again crouching down, Jungkook pulled a lock picking kit from his pocket. It didn’t take him long to get the door open but the sight that met him had anger bubble in his stomach. There you were. Naked, beaten and bruised, chained to the wall by a metal collar around your neck. Turning on his heels, Jungkook marched back to where he had left the man and got his handcuffs from his belt. The man was stood by the front door, having a smoke, with his back to the angered officer. Perfect. Swiftly grabbing both the man’s arms, Jungkook pinned them behind his back and cuffed him.

“Sir, you are under arrest for the possession and abuse of a hybrid. You have the right to remain silent.”

He radioed in his arrest, asking for a squad to come out and take care of the perp as well as the crime scene so he could see to the hybrid. Luckily there was one close by who could be there in ten minutes. Once they arrived, Jungkook headed back to the room you were in. 

You looked absolutely terrified as you stared up at him, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gave a warning hiss. Jungkook quickly shrugged off his backpack and slid it closer to you then raised both hands in a gesture meant to pacify you. 

“It’s alright. No need to be alarmed. I’m here to help.” He said quietly as he got onto his knees to get level with you, shuffling towards you, “I’m going to undo the chains but you have to promise not to attack me.” He was wary of how your tail was wagging against the floor. With cat hybrids that could mean one of two things. You were excited at the idea of rescue or you felt threatened and about to attack. He hoped it was the former.

Finally, he reached you. Once again pulling out his lock pick kit, he kept eye-contact with you as he unlocked the collar. Not an easy feat. When you heard the lock click free you yanked the offending metal off and chucked it as far away from you as you possibly could. Jungkook went to place a soothing hand on your shoulder but you hissed at him once again.

“Whoa. Okay okay. I won’t touch you. Not without your permission.” Slowly, he reached for his backpack, unzipping it to pull out a large fleece blanket. Trying to make as little contact as possible he draped the blanket over you, covering your nudity and offering you some warmth. “There. You’re safe now.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t exactly easy to get you out of the building and let alone into his car, but somehow, he managed and you were curled up in the backseat, staring intently out the window, ears twitching at every sound. The drive to his precinct was long and quiet. You weren’t a talker but hopefully, once you had calmed down and got used to him you would open up a little. 

Once arriving at the precinct, Jungkook had you follow him to his office. Though you kept a good metre behind him. Sensing your unease, he paused outside his door and gave you a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything to you. I just have some paperwork to do and file so I can begin your care.” He opened the door and pointed to a cupboard, “There are some modified clothes for hybrids in there. Wear whatever makes you comfortable, I’ll be out here as you dress.” You gave him a suspicious look, “Promise I won’t try to peek.”

You sent him another sceptical look then hesitantly entered the office space. Jungkook waited outside the door for you, keeping to his word and not opening the door after you had closed it. Even when he was a little concerned about how long you were taking. He knew that if he did try and check on you, you would mistake his concern for more perverse intentions. 

Eventually, the handle clicked as it turned and the door opened. There you stood, the blanket still wrapped around you but only loosely. You were dressed in a light blue t-shirt and a pair of Khaki shorts, seemingly having decided to remain barefoot. But you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes remained downcast as you stepped aside to let him in. The way a hybrid slave would do for their master. It appeared he would need to undo your conditioning as a part of your care programme.

He stepped closer to you but made sure he didn’t get too close, then crouched slightly to look you in the eyes, “You can look at me. You can look at anyone. From this day forward you are your own master.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even when he was filling out all the necessary forms and reports you hadn’t uttered a single word. And that’s all it took for Jungkook to figure out what was going on. You were either mute due to a medical reason or a selective mute from trauma, he leaned more towards that latter since you still made little noises here and there. He made a point of including his realisation in his report.

“I hope you don’t mind me assigning you a temporary name, kind of need something to call you while your with me.”

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing as you tilted your head to the side in confusion.

“For me to help you, you have to live with me for a while until I think you’re ready to identify your family and return you to them. I’m hoping by that point you’ll be talking and will tell me your real name. It’ll make everything so much easier.” He chuckled, “No pressure by the way. Take as long as you need… I think I’ll call you… hmm… let’s see,” He scratched his cheek on thought, “Goyang-i (Cat/Kitty). I’ll call you Goyang-i. Short and sweet… but not very imaginative.” A sigh left his lips, disappointed in himself.

With one final signature, the last of the paperwork was finished. He rose from his seat at his desk and gestured for you to follow him. Your eyes once again looked towards the floor as you shuffled after him. He gave the paperwork to the necessary person for them to be filed before leaving the building and getting into his car with you in tow.

He shot you a gentle smile when you climbed into the back seat, still a blanket burrito, “Once we get back to mine you’re free to explore my apartment while I run you a bath.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook sat and watched as the water filled the tub. He had dealt with hybrids who had been found in worse conditions but you must have gone through something horrific to choose to go mute. Jungkook knew and understood that selective mutism was rarely caused by abuse and trauma, it was caused by social anxiety more often than not, but the trauma you went through seemed to be the case for you. 

The soft padding of your feet was near silent, the running water almost drowning them out completely. He could just make them out as you explored, drifting close then away again. It was best to let you do this by yourself, at your own speed. Rehabilitation worked best when it was self lead with guidance from him, is what he found out through trial and error. The first step was to get you to relax in your new temporary home. With that thought in mind he reached out to the collection of bath bombs he was gifted by a childhood friend, Yoongi. He was older than Jungkook by four years and was a cat hybrid. Unfortunately, he had been abducted himself, along with his little sister when they had gone out playing one day. Jungkook had successfully found and rescued Yoongi in his first year on the force but as for the little sister…

Jungkook shook his head to clear it, it was no time to dwell on his failure. After a bit of thought on what bath bomb to use, he chose Big Blue. It was meant to be calming, with arame to help the metabolism, sea salt to exfoliate, lemon oil to clear the mind and lavender oil to act as an antiseptic.  Hopefully it will do the trick of relaxing you and cleaning your injuries from the struggle with your former owner. Once the bath was filled, he placed the bomb in, watching as it fizzled and the steam became scented. It kind of reminded him of Busan with it’s subtle ocean smell thanks to the arame and sea salt. 

The creaking of the bathroom door opening let him know you had finished your little adventure for now, the padding of your feet more audible on the tiles. 

“As you can probably tell, your bath is ready.” Your stared at him warily, still a blanket burrito, “Don’t worry,  I won’t be in the room as you… yeah. I’m going to get started on dinner. We’ll eat when you’re done.”

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Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, also referred to as C-PTSD.  Jungkook was pretty sure you might be suffering from that. Although he had no way of actually knowing unless you spoke but he wasn’t going to force you to. It was never good to force a non-verbal person to speak when they’re uncomfortable with it. However, you had been through events that could cause it: abduction, abuse and slavery/possible sex slavery. All these events most likely happening from your childhood onwards, though that was a guess on his part, he had no idea what age you had been abducted at. But for a large majority of cases, it's as a child. So suffering multiple traumas to the extent of becoming mute… Yeah, this was definitely a complex situation he was dealing with.

Standard PTSD treatment wouldn’t be of any use to you. You were going to need long term, intensive support from both him and your family once he figured out who you were. For the meantime, he’ll have to keep a close eye on you as C-PTSD normally leads to attempts on one’s own life.

Jungkook frowned as he pushed about a meatball in the pasta sauce. It’s not like he hasn’t dealt with C-PTSD before, a lot of his rescues suffered from it. He’s just never dealt with a survivor that couldn’t talk, which meant that monitoring your mental health was going to be difficult. The best thing was to observe then create a plan of action. Taking the meatballs off the heat, he took a quick glance at the pasta. Shit. It was nearly boiling over. So he took that off the heat too.

“Goyang-i! Dinner’s ready!” He called, then flinched. Raising his voice wasn’t a good idea if the sudden splashing coming from the bathroom was anything to go by.

Distressed yowls accompanied it. He had to stop himself from rushing to your aid, if he burst in on you while you’re undressed after he shouted… There’s no way you’d trust him. His worry for you disappeared with the sound of water rushing down the drain, meaning you had managed to sort yourself out. And thus he busied himself with plating dinner. He briefly wondered if you would be able to use cutlery but, given the environment he found you in, quickly realised you most likely couldn’t. 

He didn’t want to, however, for the time being he would have to treat you like a child to an extent. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Some rescues responded well to regression therapy because they get to experience the childhood that was stolen from them. It’s just there are those that can’t move past that stage or reject the idea of becoming an ‘adult’ all together which has happened to him a few times. With a sigh he put your portion in a bowl, then proceeded to cut it up into bite-sized pieces and store it in the fridge.

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Links: Mind.org.uk on C-PTSD

NHS on C-PTSD

A/N: If anyone has any links they think might be helpful that could be added, please send them my way. Also if you like my work please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi (no pressure though, I know there’s currently a global panademic and a lot of people aren’t able to work because of it)

This work of fiction is copyright © JungkookieNoona and protected under UK and international law. All rights reserved. Any unauthorised broadcasting, copying or reposting will constitute an infringement of copyright.

[sapientiaethumanitas]

Huge Character Change for Larthia! 

Thanks to me being alone with my mind these last months, I decided to give a huge character change for my beloved Larthia. This was her character before. 

She gave me (and Ezekiel) a lot of love during these times and I thought it would be time to update her character officially. I dare speak out a little warning though, because she changed from being a sister to be the love of his life. This might be a trigger for some of you, so just you know. I will put everything under a cut.

I might also make a NPC page for the blog, because also Qwamahr and Naya went under construction.

☾ Larthia and Khagmar grew up together in their homeworld. Her farther fought in a battle, got kidnapped and killed and her mother Nesthiva decided from that on to adopt vampire orphans. Khagmar never knew his parents and was raised by lesser vampires. While hunting, Nesthiva found little Khagmar in the woods and took him to her camp, regarding him as her son from then on. Larthia was the only one from the pack who cared for Khagmar and they had a strong bond till the conjunction happened. She landed in Zerrikania, while Khagmar landed in Toussaint.

☾ Larthia always had a heart for animals, plants and the suppressed. Vampires are usually not known to be altruistic. They do have a strong pack instinct, but if one “family member” is weaker than the others, they will leave this one behind. Larthia always cared for the weakest creatures, helped animals and had a huge wisdom about medicine and plants back in their homeworld. In the human world then, she cared for the humans, while her berethen rather cared for their blood.

☾ Khagmar took Ezekiel to Zerrikania, after they arrived in the human world. His strong bond with Larthia made it possible for him to find her location after the conjunction. After Ezekiel became Khagmar’s blood brother, they both traveled through the human world by foot (because Ezekiel’s chains wouldn’t let him turn into fog). During that time Larthia properly settled down in Zerrikania, with a little hut and a chicken, she called tusna (this is actually the etruscan word for swan, but there were no chickens in the vampiric homeworld...) 

☾ Larthia taught Ezekiel how to speak the common human tongue and what humans are. Before the conjunction Ezekiel was never been allowed to speak, this is why his vocal chords were underdeveloped. Larthia put huge effort in teaching him how to speak and understand the human tongue. She also taught him normal daily actions like eating, sleeping, shaving,cooking and trading. Khagmar meanwhile went to Mahakam to find a special gnome smith. Only he was able to free Ezekiel from the chains he was wearing for thousands of years. 

☾ Larthia figured out, that Naya had betrayed Ezekiel all the years he was his slave. One evening Larthia had an argument with a trader at the market and decided to have some wine. Ezekiel barely even had water in his life and was even more confused to drink wine, which made him tipsy and talk-active. Larthia had a small boundary of shame anyway and asked Ezekiel, if he ever had a woman. He told her about Naya and she didn’t like what she heard. Ezekiel always believed that Naya had loved him, when she only used him to get pregnant. Larthia tried to explain that to Ezekiel, but he wasn’t able to understand at first. Only after Larthia showed him what tenderness, affection and love actually mean, he understood that Naya had used him. 

☾ Larthia was the first one to kiss Ezekiel. This was also a sign of Naya treating him wrong, because she never kissed him before. One night when Ezekiel was telling Larthia how thankful he is for her help, she just leaned over and kissed him. In the following weeks after the kiss they often share tender moments and Larthia also explains Ezekiel how people actually make love. She then promises to express her feelings towards him, once he is freed of his shakles.

☾ Larthia paid for Ezekiel’s freedom. Her mother gifted her a necklace back in their homeland. A stone, green like a huge emerald, but not do describe in human terms. Since then there had not been a day, where Larthia would have taken the necklace off - it was the only thing that reminded her of her mother. As Khagmar comes back from Mahakam with the gnome, who is not interested in being paid in coins for his work. Instead of money, he wanted gem stones. As he sees the huge emerald around Larthia’s neck, he demands it in charge for freeing Ezekiel from his shackles. Once the work was done, Larthia took her necklace off and gave it to the gnome, who then immediately disappears. 

☾ Larthia was the one who taught Ezekiel about alchemy and medicine. Like Ezekiel taught Emiel everything about being a doctor, Larthia taught him. From herbs, to medicine, salves, treating wounds, surgery, helping with births, the differences between human and vampiric nature. And he listend and learned.

☾ Larthia fell in love with Ezekiel on first sign. The first time Khagmar walked with Ezekiel in her hut, she immediately fell for the poor creature he once was. And it was true love, the pure kind. She didn’t want to be the hero that saved him from slavery, but rather show him how much beauty and tenderness there can be in the world. 

☾ Larthia fought many battles next to Khagmar. It has always been good for her to be half Tdet and half Ammurun, because not only was Larthia smart, but also a good warrior. During the civil war in Zerrikania, she led a pack of outlaw bruxae to go up against Qwamahr and his plan to subjugate all humans in his country. Together with Khagmar she had been successful, but a long scar from her temples to her cheeck marked her since then. Ezekiel did love her even more with her scar. 

☾ Larthia married Ezekiel shortly before they try to free Khagmar (Tesham Mutna) The both stayed in Zerrikania after the civil war, while Khagmar went back to Toussaint, where he got encaged for two centuries. Before they heard of his imprisonment, Larthia and Ezekiel married alone, only in presence of a priest. 

☾ The Battle of Tesham Mutna After hearing that Khagmar got imprisioned, Larthia and Ezekiel travel to Toussaint together with a pack of bruxae, that stayed faithful to her and Khagmar. The big battle of Tesham Mutna begins, where a lot of the bruxae die and Larthia loses track on Ezekiel, while he goes inside the prision to find his blood brother. Ezekiel has to kill the guards and later Khagmar, because he begs him to do so. Ezekiel had to escape as fast as he can and flees in the woods of Oxenfurt, where he gains immunity from his berethen. He doesn’t know where Larthia is, and that for over thousand years.

☾ Larthia comes back after Emiel leaves. There ahsn’t been a day since Larthia vanished, where Ezekiel didn’t think of her. Even in the times, where Emiel is with him, he cannot forget her. Emiel respects that, even though he knows that Ezekiel would never love him the way he loves her. Two hundred years after Emiel left Ezekiel, there is a strange phenomenon happening over Oxenfurt. Larthia was held a slave herself in the desert by Ofir after the battle of Tesham Mutna. She never gave up hope to be reunited with her husband and one day a mage entered the camp. The mage remembers Larthia from the civil war in Zerrikania, where she rescued the mage’s brother by risiking her own life. The mage grants her a wish. She immediately tells him to teleport her back to Ezekiel, which he does.

☾ The Happy End I tried to figure out a perfect end for Ezekiel’s story line and actually wanted to give him a sad, loney life. But my heart cannot take this and so I decided, that after the mage teleported Larthia to the surroundings of Oxenfurt, she finally gets back into his arms and learns that he now lives as a professor at the Academy. She gets to run a little herb shop on Oxenfurt square as time goes by and they both live the calm life they both deserve so much. And yes, there are also little vampires....

[dopebonksaladfarm]

Where Your Dreams Escape, By Issa

My mother was bought by my master into slavery, who was a physician. I was born in a horse stable. My entire childhood was spent on working in the fields. I was sold in my teens. Despite this, I managed to work privately and raised enough money to buy my freedom. I then moved into a small apartment.

This all happened in good Britain. It’s funny really. I only moved from the south side to the north side. A simple place where people could be both the most proper and the most vulgar. From this reason, Britain was my home. But I could never feel a true connection to the place. I just felt always like an outsider, whether free or not.

Because of my experiences, people expect me to protest for the rights of the colored people of England. The problem is I’ve never been very vocal in my life. Even after I was freed, I never felt a need to protest. It can be rather lonely really. People always invite me to protests, but I’m always left behind. I alwayed hoped that I could grow some desire to speak freely.

This changed on one night. I was all alone in my room, reading a little. It was then I got so tired that I fell asleep. It’s funny that that small moment I remember so vividly. It was only really like every night before. But still, I even remember the book being ‘Robinson Crusoe’. It was the night that changed my life.

Now, this is all recollection from my mother, who wrote to me about this. In the night, around the time I fell asleep, a strange portal opened up in the stable I was born. It was a complete void of whiteness. My mother at first thought it was an angel. She ran to her master to tell him about the portal. I’m truly thankful that my former master was reasonable, as he listened to her and came to the portal.

My mother never entered the portal, but was able to describe what my former master saw. My former master entered the portal, which upon entrance almost caused him to faint. My former master found himself in a realm unlike any other. It was like our world, but with key differences. The world was nothing but a lush forest, with the ruler of the world being in the center of a castle, hovering over the subjects. Despite him not aging a day after he left the realm, my former master said that he had spent years in the realm before he had to leave.

A week after that night, my former master came to my home with his friends. See, I had told my mother about seeing my former master in my dream. It was nothing special to me, but my mother noted that in my dream I described my former master trying to understand the realm around him. He asked me if he could examine me with his friends to see if my dreaming was somehow connected to the alternate realm. He did promise a lot of money to me, so I accepted. I was brought back to my old home.

From there, every time I went to sleep, the portal to the realm opened. My former master would pay good money for people to enter the portal as I slept. He was kind enough to give me a fair share of the money. The town knew me overnight, as tales of my sleep bringing a realm where riches are for all and families are filled with happiness. I provided a paradise for many people. I remember wanting to join them in their happiness.

Sadly, this joy was only superficial. See, my former master wanted that the portal would open during the daytime, but could never sleep with light. So, he often knocked me out suddenly. It was impossible for my former master to even consider this before. But it happened nonetheless. I lost many days to my sleep.

This continued for many months. I felt nothing but black thoughts during those months. I wasn’t given much money after a while and it was claimed that it was really my former master who allowed for the portal to the realm to exist. I felt back into the bondage that I once escaped. Only this time, it was worse. I sometimes dreamed about the sweet release of death.

Soon, I had an idea. I could simply run away from my captors. I knew many former slaves who did that. I didn’t really want to run away. But I had no real choice. It was unlikely that I would be freed from my situation anytime soon.

So, I made my choice. In the morning, as my former master collected money from a happy customer, I ran into the forest. I didn’t really have a specific place to go. I just wanted to leave England. The only thing I feared would be slave catchers, who would likely be paid a lot to take me back. But I didn’t care.

Later into my years as a puppet for my former master, I was distanced from my birth home. I was told it was for “experimental reasons”. But I decided to go back there. I hoped that it would be the last place they would find me. But also hoped that I could maybe enter the portal myself. It was only a hope.

By the time I reached my birth home, I was completely exhausted. I had barely slept in days. I could use it to my advantage. I noticed my birth home had become more of a attraction. A deserted attraction, but a attraction nonetheless.

I went to the place of my birth. A simple horse stable, which had a little bit of decoration. I was able to finally rest, free from the slavery I had experienced.

I didn’t even notice when I fell into the realm. It was as strange as my former master describe it as. But I felt a stronge connection to the realm. The realm was pure beauty. Everyone was free. There was no need for slaves.

It was then that I approached the castle. It seemed impossible to reach it given that it hovered over the realm. But then a great voice came from the castle. “You have finally come home, now rest.” It was my own voice. I felt nothing but joy. My freedom was finally granted.

[ruffiorocks]

I don't think Daenerys has gone mad, she made a choice, and it was the wrong choice. (Long post)

Disclaimer: I'm a woman and a historian so please don't start throwing 'sexism' and 'jon is only better because he has a d**k' statements at me.

Soo I dont think Dany has gone mad. I think she has PTSD and she made a choice out of anger and desperation.

Let's go back to the beginning, Viserys told Dany from day one that the Targaryens belonged on the throne and it was stolen from them. She grew up with that mentality but she never seemed all the bothered by it. She pretty much knew even if Viserys was given an army he would probably fail. Dany was happy in her life as Khaleesi, it was only after she watched her brother die and Drogo said he would take the seven kingdoms for her than she seemed to think she should be queen.

Dany got a taste for power as Khaleesi and was pissed when she couldn't have everything she wanted. She wanted to claim all the slaves as her own but that wasn't the Dothraki way, even Jorah told her that but she wasnt having it making her very unpopular with the Dothraki.

She went against all the Dothraki believed in when she had magic used on Drogo. Once she really messed him up she lost the great khalessar and any respect she may have had. She was tolerated because she was Drogos wife. Only the women, children and lame stayed behind with her.

Once she gave 'birth' to her dragons she started to be seen almost like a goddess. Everyone kneeled to her even Jorah. She started to show signs that fire was now her answer to dealing with people she doesn't like. Remember Miri Maz Durr who was supposed to save Drogo? She had her burned alive because Dany thought she owed her her life. Dany thought she was a hero and should be treated like one, but remember Miri Maz Durr's words to her:

"Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me before you saved me, girl. I saw my god's house burn, there where I had healed men and women beyond counting. In the streets I saw piles of heads... the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head a young boy that I had cured of fever just three moons past. So... tell me again exactly what it was that you saved?"

Miri Maz was traumatized and her world ended, she told Dany that a life had to be taken for Drogo's, Dany just wanted what she wanted and unfortunately it was her son's life that was taken. Her solution? She burned Miri Maz on a funeral pyre. Miri Maz lost everything and took revenge, Dany lost a lot and did what? She massacred an entire city of Innocent people. By Danys own logic she should be burned to.

Then what? Dany went and started to free slaves, great! But she used fire to deal with her enemies again. I'm not pro slavery, but the slave traders weren't Danys enemies, she decided to turn up then burn and crucify them all. She took it upon herself to decide how those cities should be run when she had no place there at all. Then she got all the Unsullied who decided to stay with her, which makes sense because she freed them, same with the other slaves. Once again Dany was hailed as a Goddess 'Mysa!' 'Mother of Dragons' 'Breaker of chains' 'the unburned' and all that Jazz. All that praise? Goes to a persons head.

Dany would liberate these cities and then she would leave them in chaos. Dany might be good at liberating people who had no say in their lives and wouldn't embrace the first person to treat them as people, but she sucks as governing.

Dany said she was going to break the wheel rather than stop the wheel. She hadn't even seen the bloody wheel in Westeros. All she had was stories. Dany believed she belonged on the throne just because of her name.

Tyrion? Varys? They chose Dany because at the time they thought she might be the best answer and they hadn't seen her more murderous tendencies. Plus anyone has to be better than Cersei on the throne right? And no one knew about Jon.

When Dany finally got to Westeros she said she always thought it would feel like a home coming, but it wasnt. Why? Because it's not Danys home, she doesn't belong there. She immediately expected everyone in Westeros to bend the knee to her purely because she finally decided to show up and demand the throne. No one knew who she was, no one had ever seen her before.

Dany was used to being in a Khalessar or 'ruling' over a city. Dany has no experience in fuedalism. She demanded Jon bend the knew and said he was in open rebellion against her. Open rebellion against a woman who claims the crown but hasnt actually done anything to get it? Open rebellion against a woman he and the North have never even seen or knew anything about other than she has dragons?

People say Dany saved everyone's arses from the white walkers. That's just not true. Dany claims to be Queen of the Seven kingdoms? Well then the problems of those kingdoms become hers. If Dany had left Jon to deal with the white walkers then yeah he probably would have been killed along with everyone else. But then Dany would have had a white walker problem to deal with on her own. The walkers and the Night King would have destroyed the North and headed South killing everyone in their path while Dany sat at Dragon Stone waiting for people to bend the knee. There wouldn't have been anyone left to do that and the Night King would have destroyed her armies and then her. So no, Dany helped with an issue that according to her own claims became her own.

Dany is foolish to, when she meets Jon she hardly believes that white walkers are even a thing. In the same scene she then tell Jon about how no one believed Dragons would exist again but there they were. So she believes that she's great enough to bring back dragons but the very idea that White Walkers are a thing is beyond her comprehension? This woman has seen magic and visions!

Dany also told Jon it was her destiny to be Queen of the seven kingdoms. Well that's just nonsense and something she's just convinced herself to be true because she wasnt born to be queen. She had two older brothers and an elder nephew and niece, add Jon to the mix and Dany would never have been destined to be queen.

Dany and Sansa didn't get on because Sansa wasn't taken in by Dany like many others have been. Sansa isn't dazzled by titles or dragons. While Dany and Jon were busy squabbling over who should rule Sansa was busy making sure her people had enough food and leather in their armour to keep them warm. Sansa had no interest in the North giving up their autonomy to a woman they had never seen before. Jon had no right to give the North to Dany, he was elected king, that doesn't make him an absolute monarch.

Dany asked for Jon's advice and he told her not to go burning people because 'she wouldn't be different, she would be more or the same". She then Immediately goes and burns the Lannister army without giving them a chance to surrender. She let's a few live, and demands they bend the knee or they die. Thats not really a choice at all, it's dictatorship. Even Tyrion tries to talk her out of that, he knows how Westeros works and Dany doesn't. She then burned Lord Tarly and his son. She won't have the love of those people, she can't demand their love and she can't gain it the same way she did in Merreen. The people of Westeros aren't slaves, they dont want her or need her.

After they won the battle for Winterfell Dany was seen to be on the outside looking in at the feast. She helped save the day, but she doesn't know anyone in the North. The Northerners celebrate with family and friends. Jon and Sansa and the wildlings all drink together, Tyrion is drinking with Jaime and Brienne. Dany expects everyone to worship her because she had been treated like that for years so when it doesn't happen she feels put out. It's not Danys fault, it's just no one has ever put a check on her power until she arrived in the North. The Unsullied and the Dothraki aren't Danys 'friends' they worship and serve her.

Dany finds out Jon is a Targaryen and the true heir to the throne. She begs him not to tell anyone something she has no right to do. He tells his family though and of course it spreads. Sansa doesn't trust Dany and I dont blame her. Jon may not want to be king but he doesn't go around burning people to get respect. Jon already has it, he's a Northerner, he's the 'son' of an honorable Lord. He's was Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, he's been beyond the wall, he fought white walkers, he fought in the battle of the bastards. Jon was elected king in the North. Jon doesn't demand respect because he feels he's entitled to it. He even came back from the dead but he doesn't brag about it. He doesn't call himself 'Jon Snow, The King in the North, the Ressurected one". So yeah given the choice between the two I'd have chosen Jon to.

Varys realises he made the wrong choice, he serves the people and always has. He would place his bets on Jon rather than Dany given what he was seen and he dies for it.

Tyrion knows he's fucked up, Dany doesn't believe the people in Kings Landing are important at all. She's so focused on getting what she wants she doesn't stop to think about the very people she claims to be coming to save.

Dany lost a dragon saving Jon, she lost another one because she didn't have the foresight to check the bloody perimeter and her dragon was killed. She took her best friend and advisor who doesn't know how to fight to the battle and she was kidnapped and killed.

Dany then made the decision to 'kill them all' with fire even AFTER the city surrendered. She could have just flown to the Red Keep and killed Cersei who was standing on the balcony. Dany made a choice and it was the wrong one. Dany isn't mad, she's traumatized and she's realised she would NEVER have the love and respect of the people of Westeros. She has done nothing to earn it, nothing that anyone else hasnt done. She has shown the people that if you say no to her she will burn you to a crisp. She's tried so hard not to be her father but ironically that's exactly what she's become. She said she hadn't come to be the queen of fire and Ash but that's exactly what she's done.

Dany has no head for strategy or ruling. She believes she's there to free people but the fact is Westeros isn't Mereen. The people of Westeros aren't slaves , they don't need their Lords killed. Dany wants to be the savior of a country that doesn't need or want her to save them.

Dany doesn't realise that soldiers of Westeros aren't like the Dothraki or the Unsullied. They don't all fight because they believe in the cause. The soldiers live under the lesser Lords who are the bannermen to the higher Lord who then swear allegiance to the monarch. Those soldiers and Innocents she burned all died pointlessly. She burns the majority then give the fraction of survivers a choice?

Look at all the other kings in Westeros, none of them acted like Dany does save for maybe Joffrey and we all know how that ended. Joffrey at least didn't believe himself to be absolute, he was put in his place by Tywin. The other kings? Robert? He was loved , Renly was loved, Stannis was respected, Robb was loved, Tommen was tolerated but didn't really do anything, but Margery was loved.

In conclusion Dany had good intentions when she started out but she was praised so much it went to her head and she started acting like that was her due. She broke chains and freed slaves and seemed to think that's what Westeros needed. She doesn't know how to rule, she's impatient and doesnt like listening to advice. She demands respect and expects to be obeyed by people she has never met before. She acts like her father even though she claims he was an 'evil man'. Remember when she apologized to Jon on behalf of her house because of what happened to his grandfather and uncle? Who is going to apologise to the people of Kings Landing? How is Dany not an 'evil woman'? Dany did exactly the same thing that made Jaime stab her father in the back. Dany knows what she did was evil.

There is no coming back from what she has done. If there was even a chance for her to at least gain the people's respect if not love she just lost it. She will forever be on everyone's hit list now. Dany has become everything she spent years fighting against.

I think what needs to happen is Drogon needs to die. Dany will always be protected while he is there. Drogon needs to be taken out then Dany.