#and he saw a young slave girl run to him with wounds on her face trying to tell him to save the others slaves

[icharchivist]

i've got out my copy of Tevinter Nights to reread lately and i remembered a quote from The Wigmaker Job i wanted to check again, and, that's, famously, the story that introduce us to Lucanis.

and i wanted to skim through it but instead i got hundreds of psych dmg from stray lines catching my interests, reminding me just WHY on my first read 4 years ago i went "god Lucanis is so insanely hot i want to kiss him so bad", but now that i have a visual on how he looks like it legit got me blushing and giggling and twirling my hair like man i'm genuinely screwed

[jonquildove]

thesilverhairedkhaleesi:

As the boat docked at the waters edge of Westeros Dany made her way to the hull of the ship. Taking in a deep breath she, she let the cool air sting her lungs. She wasn’t used to these low temperatures, and she had to pull her hood up over her to shield herself from the cold. She had travelled across the seas with her Unsullied soldiers, her dragons flying through the sky with their large wings and breathing fire, the people in the castle running for cover from their fiery breath. As a dragon was not a slave. As she made her way off the boat, she noticed the young girl standing near a pallet of goods. She had the fair red hair and soft features that matched the description of the individuals she was told to meet upon her arrival. Advising her army’s commander to seek shelter for her awesome dragons, her commander being Grey Worm, she made her way over to the girl. Rhaegal is on her shoulder, her dragon breathing red wisps of fire. She missed her son Rhaego, the stallion who mounted the world, having dreamed of her khal and him in the afterlife. It had been snowing, and she had gone into the tent, seeing him cradling her son. It was a beautiful life, another life with him. Her hair shines gold in the snow, as she wistfully looks at him, touching his face. He was at peace now, she saw. She trusted the brown skinned man called Grey Worm, he saying he was proud to have this name, as that was when she had freed him from being a slave. He had been in Astapor for a long time, there being masters like Kraznys, he being sold when he was a babe. The masters had been cruel, whipping the soldiers, even though they did not feel, the cruelty was not lost on them. They had killed the masters, Daenerys saying to do so. He fought valiantly with the Sons of the Harpy, they wearing golden hawk masks, like the harpy statue in Yunkai. Fighting in the alley, where the brothel girl had pointed to. He realised, as he walked there with only a handful of Unsullied, they patrolling the streets as per every night, the main battle over, that the girl had tricked them, had killed White Rat, his friend and fellow soldier. He was a very good warrior, fighting with the spear, and wounding and killing the harpies, yet they had stabbed and wounded him, he bleeding. Barristan Selmy had come to his aid, and together, they fought the remaining men. As she approached the girl, she was shocked by how young the maiden was. Surely this couldn’t be the girl that had been through so much, as told in her previous letters. Varys had sent letters to her, or one of his spies had, as he was the spider in the garden of King's Landing, he and Tyrion hearing about a possible good ruler for Westeros across the narrow seas. Dany herself had also been through so much in her short life. She hoped that the two could work together, and possibly become fast friends. “Excuse me.” She asked “But would you by chance be Sansa Stark?”

Sansa looks over at the pale blonde-haired woman whom had just gotten off the ship. She had been waiting to meet the dragon woman, who had been ruling one of the Free Cities. They could rule together, she thought. Joffrey was a cruel tyrant, she wishing there to be a kinder monarch. She read about the Targaryen dynasty, liking the stories of knights fighting monsters and rescuing princesses. She read who Princess Alyssa was, whom was named after the waterfall in the Eyrie. She had been in Jaehaerys’s reign, he and Alysanne, the good queen, bearing her. She had loved water. She looking through the book, gently handling the tatters when Joffrey cut through it with a sword. She uncreasing the pages, and singing through them. Tyrion had given the book to him as a wedding present. “Afternoon, Your Grace…” Sansa smiled at the woman. “Yes, my name is Sansa.” “–And you’re Queen Daenerys, I’m guessing?”

[alreadyblondenow]

The morning and evening star | Johnny Suh

Johnny Suh x female!Reader  

▸ too much fluff, too much smut, angst, prince of Egypt AU, slave reader ▸ Part of NCT Historical AU Collaboration hosted by @puppywritings ▸ In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh is referred as “Morning and Evening Star”

Summary: Fighting the battles for his kingdom and for his ill father, Johnny, a prince of Egypt was given a beautiful gift the night before a great war starts. The given gift, which is you, gave the prince a very hard time but soon your heart softened the moment you allow yourself to get to know him. As you both fall in love sooner than expected, you thought that Johnny will give you your freedom but he can’t because that means letting you go. Johnny treated you as a gold and you became his most precious jewel. He kept you inside the palace, gave you a place to paint on and kept you in his life for as long as he can. But not long enough. 

Word count: 8,441k Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, its a Johnny fic what do you expect?, mentions of slavery (if that bothers you, please click away), mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of sadness, self doubt, possessiveness, unprotected sex, oral sex (female),  rough sex, slight exhibitionism, fingering, mentions of bruises, spitting. Mentions of other idols, and Johnny’s parents. Pregnancy, (if that bothers you please click away), mature themes, murder, family betrayal, mentions of gods bc hello its Egypt A/N: Pure fiction. Inspired by my favorite movies that I grew up watching with my family during family movie nights.. haha. (Troy, prince of Egypt, Exodus: Gods and kings, Tangled, and Gods of Egypt) 

Taglist:  @doyounglover  @puppywritings  @commentgirl @mischiefmakerliesmith5  @wonderfulkoreanpop  @ethaeriyeol @suhpersonic @sunshinedhyuck @sighreal @jb-hope94​ 

To William, thank you so much for this wonderful collab! I’m lucky enough to join last minute and I hope this fic gives justice to your wonderful collab. Thank you so much! 

On a beautiful quiet night in Egypt, under the dark sky that's full of stars, a young prince is out on the terrace to look at his kingdom and admire it even with the slightest light. The moon shines beautifully and so he expects that that is a good sign that the night will be even more beautiful.

A royal banquet is waiting for his presence. Another gathering where the richest families in Egypt wish the young prince to bring peace, victory, and finally put an end to this war against the enemies.

“I can already feel the weight of my father’s crown mother, what should I do?” Johnny asks his mother as they accompany each other to the royal banquet.

“You do the right and wises thing, my son. Be a better pharaoh than your father,” his mother advises. Caressing his son’s face before they enter the room and telling him to have long patience with the ignorant people who are going to have a word with him tonight.

When everyone welcomed both the prince and the royal wife, they all cheered happily, shouting and howling for the prince while the blaring sounds of percussion and tambourine started playing. Men and women were always mesmerized by Johnny’s perfect built, architects and sculptors are dying to make him their inspiration and make him a big statue. Even the beauty of every gold he’s wearing in his body right now has no match for his natural handsomeness and godlike features.

“My son, who has fought many battles for me over my reign since I was declared ill, will be the one who will lead you to peace and victory,” he pats Johnny’s shoulder before he continues and looked to his assistants. “So before a great war starts tomorrow, I present to you this gift,” he nods and signals his assistant to bring it in.

And when people started to make way for the gift, loud grunts, and nonstop whining were heard across the room… while the people just watched the guards drag her in to be presented to the prince. “Amusement my prince,” one of the assistants says and pushed her further in front of the prince.

Johnny then lowered himself to check the gift that's been presented to him. Left and right he turned the girl’s face to admire it, and when he finally smirked because he liked the gift, the girl spits on his face. Loud whispers of shocked people surrounded the room, telling the girl that she has no respect for the prince of Egypt. Of course, Johnny can’t let his people see that it’s alright for a slave to disrespect him, and so he did something… something he’s not going to be proud of but will surely wow the people watching.

He grabbed a glass of wine, drank a mouthful and spit it on the girl’s face in front of everyone, and poured the remaining wine from his cup on her clothes. “Be careful slave” the prince says, pointing a finger that has a big golden ring around it to remind her who she’s talking to. “Dry her off and lock her in my room. Go,” he commands and the guards responded immediately.

The royal banquet carries on without even bothering further about the slave. Everyone drank delicious sweet wine, chattered nonstop about their richest and the things they desire in life and bid the prince of Egypt good night before they all went home.

But even though the night carried on as it should be, his mind can’t stop reminding him about the awful thing he did earlier. And so after the royal banquet, he asked for a tray of fruits and brought it to his room… for you.

Behind the thin curtains of his bed, he sees your silhouette and shook his head as a sign of disappointment to himself before he apologizes to you. He joined you in bed, sat so far away but still, he saw that no one tended to you, that no one helped you or even gave you dry clothes. “Why must you disrespect me like that?” Johnny left the question as he disappears for a minute and returned with a damped cloth and his sleeping robe. He hands it to you because he wouldn’t dare touch you without your permission, but instead of accepting the kindness that the prince is giving to you, you rolled your eyes at him, sat up and kept your distance.

“I’m sorry” he whispers but you heard it. “I may be a fool or I act tough in everyone’s eyes, especially my father’s but my mother did not raise me like that,” he added and reached for the damped clothed and came near you. Johnny wiped your face carefully like he is not the future pharaoh of Egypt and humbling himself for you.

After cleaning your skin, you shamelessly removed your clothes in front of him and looked straight into his eyes to search for lust and to finally finish this long night. And just like those men and women, architects and sculptors who lusted over his body, Johnny… lusted for you.

If you strip away every gold in Johnny’s body tonight, you will see goosebumps around his skin. He very much wants to have you tonight and pleasure himself but he still feels very guilty about what he did earlier. Almost as if he felt that he’s not worthy of you.

“If I give you pleasure tonight and have me as much as you want and as many as you like, will you free me?” you ask crawling near him wearing nothing but a cheap necklace. The prince then caressed your face, traced the curves of your body while looking directly into your eyes, showing you that he wanted to accept your offer so bad but not tonight.

“Tempting. But tonight, you rest” he says softly, trying so hard not to kiss you down the mattress and hurt you so good for the whole night. But even though he would rather do filthy things to you, he reached for his robe and made you wear it to bed. “May I be forgiven before I sleep tonight?” he says, smiling weakly and pushing you slowly to the mattress. He sat next to you while waiting for your answer.

“Only if you forgive me from what I did”

He chuckled and got up from the bed to leave you finally so you could get your rest. “Then it's settled. Let’s start again tomorrow when I come home… if… I’ll still be alive” he says, and left a sweet smile.

They say that men who will go to war the next day never get a peaceful sleep not unless they exhaust themselves from pleasure and eventually sleep like a baby. And that’s when you realized that the prince of Egypt sacrificed his sleep for you. Now you feel even more guilty because you took away his very chance to sleep peacefully for the last time… if he dies in battle tomorrow.  

But for Johnny, knowing that he put a decent woman in bed and earned her forgiveness is better than pleasure or getting to enjoy lust before a battle. You were sleeping like a baby, he thought. The whole night he sat on the chair beside his bed, guarding you, and admiring you. Until the sun finally showed up and it's time for him to go.

The battle was bloody as expect but Johnny did not expect that their army will fall on the first day of the war. His soldiers needed to take him back to the palace and protect him from there, even though he wanted to fight until his dying breath. Not run like a coward and let his men die.

The soldiers brought him back safely, but Johnny was not pleased. He arrived at the palace furious and more than angry to his general that he yelled at the nurse who is supposed to treat his wounds and his maids to clean all the blood and dirt on his face and body. Johnny is hurt, physically but his pride is crushed, and that hurts even more than his wounds.

He was repeating the battle plan and their strategy in his mind over and over again to look for holes, to look for people to blame but he just can’t. Until eventually he fell asleep even though he’s in so much pain.

“You” the head of the nurses points at you, “you treat his wounds. Or else his majesty will die because of infection and it will be on your account “ she gave you the things you needed to treat a wound properly, complete expensive materials and ointments to heal the bruises faster but the problem is you don’t how to use them. You’re not stupid and you know a thing or two, but the person whom you’re about to treat is not just anybody, and that makes you nervous alone.

Quietly, you entered his room. It was cold and only a few candles are lit and you see his majesty curled up in a ball. Vulnerable, in pain, and suffering emotionally.

Before you even touch him, this scenario reminded you about his kindness the other night. How he touched you so delicately and how he wiped the traces of expensive wine on your skin so gently. Now it's your turn. You started by stripping off his armor, the golds, and silvers that protect him until he’s exposed with nothing but the minimal cloth that covers his manhood.

Carefully, you wipe away the dirt on his face until his handsomeness is visible again, closely you make sure you did not miss a spot and clean him well. Touching his big arms almost felt like you’re committing a great sin, his chest looked so strong even though it’s covered with bruises now which you’re going to take care of in a few minutes.

Then he wakes up and he sees you treating his wounds.  

Glad to see that it’s you who’s taking care of him because for some reason you make him soft. He let out a sharp sigh and in an instant, you were shaking for you thought he will shout at you. But no. “I think I may have a broken bone, can you help me get up?” he weakly asks you.

“O-of course,” you slightly panicked but you did your best to support him with all your strength.

“Give me some water,” he says and you followed, helping him drink so he wouldn’t move too much. "You know you’re not a maid here. You’re a gift. A gift to me” he says sternly like he wanted you to take his pride. “Thank you. For taking care of me in my vulnerable state, sleep beside me I’m in pain”

And without hesitation, you did. This time, it's you who’s guarding him to his sleep. Although it hurts you to watch him suffer like this, you didn’t have a choice but to further take care of him.

On the next day, the nurses treated him the right way and adjusted his broken bones which made him feel better in an instant. You thought you will be released by then because you’re completely useless to his majesty, but you realized that he’s only keeping you for his pleasure and nothing has happened between you two yet.

So in the meantime, you decided to make yourself useful and learn the basics of treating a wound and make sure you know exactly what you’re doing whenever his majesty feels any discomfort.

He healed for days. Did not speak for days. And still, he hasn’t touched you. Oh you wish he would already so you can guarantee your freedom. Your family should be worried by now and probably thinks that you’re already dead. You can’t help but think about your family, your ill father and your younger brothers who need you, in which you can only sigh as you think about it while you take a breather at the palace terrace.  

“I bring good news,” a voice disturbed you and your thoughts, “we are winning the war,” he said weakly.

“Ah. But you don’t sound so pleased? May I ask why?” you turned around to face the prince and slowly came closer to him.

“Because I am here resting and healing while my men fight in the war when I should be leading them” the disappointment in his voice is obvious. He pulled you closer to seek comfort, holding you by the waist and keeping himself calm by smelling your unique scent.

“Lead them once more when you’re healed. For now, rest so you can go in battle with them again. You’re next to your father, and if you die on that battlefield then who will lead us?” bravely you soothed his strong back, feeling him shiver once your fingertips made contact with his skin and your warm palm gives him great calm.

“You remind me of one specific person,” he says, and you wonder if it's one of his lovers, “you remind me of my mother. Who is a great queen of Egypt” and right then and there you feel guilty for judging a loving son who respects his mother so much. Hearing those words from him made you happy and proud of yourself because now you feel useful.

He pulls away from his soft embrace and looked deeply into your eyes, asking for permission to do something to you but he’s not saying anything. It’s his eyes who are doing the talking. “You may,” you said and let out a nervous giggle before the prince finally planted a kiss on your lips.

A kiss that’s wet and quick but made your whole body warm and you wish he would kiss you a little longer but who are you to request?

“I’ll take you somewhere private,” he said when he stopped the kiss and smirked.

And so in the middle of the night, you followed the prince to that private place he told you. Hand in hand you walk in the dark, exchanging whispers when you ask him something and he answers you.

“Close your eyes” he whispers and you followed immediately. Feeling him walk away for a few seconds and then he’s right behind you, feeling him motion you towards somewhere. And when you opened your eyes, what you just saw took your breath away.

A sky full of stars shining brightly and beautifully. You can’t take your eyes off of the sky because you’ve never seen anything like this and even though your neck already feels tired from looking up, you look a little bit longer and savor this very moment. “So this is where the prince of Egypt go whenever he’s tired? I assume?” you asked, smiling like a fool because you’re still mesmerized.

“Yes. This is where I think, hum a few songs, and be myself. No judging eyes, no wars- it’s quiet right? The only part of the palace where it’s really quiet. When I become pharaoh my room will be placed here and I will curse who dares to ruin my peace” he giggles to himself and points at the nearly done construction. The future bedroom of the new pharaoh, big, lavish, and peaceful. It suits him.

“I’m so tired of worrying and thinking about the future” he admitted weakly, closing his eyes and resting his head on yours. Embracing you from behind and caging you with his strong arms. Of course, this bold move made you nervous, the prince of Egypt is keeping you in his arms right now, who wouldn’t?

“Then you must rest,” you said and he only hummed and let out soft sighs.

“Can I have not only your lips but your whole being too?” he asked with the utmost care, careful not to offend you or make you feel like a whore. Then suddenly you feel his lips on your skin, cold lips that felt heavenly, soft lips that you imagine to be on yours. but he’s placing sweet kisses on your neck that made you gasp sharply, close your eyes and accept what he’s doing.

With heavy breaths and soft moans, you try so hard to let out a few words “Do you even need to ask? You’re the morning and evening star you should do as you please,” you croak.  

And because you have given him your consent, his kisses became intense that you’re sure you felt his teeth brush on your skin. And because of the pretty sounds that he’s making it is very much obvious that he is enjoying himself especially now that his big hands are roaming free around your body. Kneading your breast and telling you that they’re soft while his mouth is near your ear and he nibbles your earlobe as he pleases.

He twirls you and made you face him before he devours your lips once again, kissing you with want and with a mixture of lust while motioning you towards the huge bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, making you stand still in front of him, “Virgin?” he asked shamelessly, you shook your head 'no' shyly. “Shame” he added before he stands up and removes his robe, exposing himself to you. Now you understand why everyone in Egypt lusts for him.

Gently he runs his hands on your shoulder, untying the knot that secures your dress and letting it fall down at your feet. “Beautiful,” he says.

The night wasn’t exactly hot but the prince made you sweat in bed the whole night. He was careful but all the things that he did to you were rough, he was very stressed and tired indeed. The way he kisses you, the way he bites your neck and mark you his, the way he holds you in place while he thrusts so roughly. All you can do is whine deliciously, groan and let out sharp gasps and heavy breaths.

Again, he was rough but you loved everything that he’s doing.

“Last one and I promise to give you rest,” he said with ragged breaths. Lips on the side of your face while his big hands knead your breast from behind and preventing you to fall on the mattress. You arch your back as much you can so you can manage to take the overstimulation and sensitivity but the prince is fucking you good that your knees are about to give up.

When he is so close to his sweet release, he pushed your body on the mattress and slapped your left ass cheek one too many times before he pulls out and pumps his cock away from your hole.

Weak. Tired and aching. You curl your body and hug yourself as you wait for the prince to cover you with his warmth again. But not long after he came down from his sweet release, he is holding you by the ankle and the next thing you know he is hooking his arms around your legs, spreading your folds and running his fingers on your wet slit while watching you lose your mind and beg for him. His tongue was heavenly and he was licking you slow like he’s waiting for you to calm down and accept the pleasure that he’s doing. Up and down, he licked you slow and listened to you wherever you want him on a certain spot. And when you had your sweet release and let out a high pitched moan, you did not beg for him to stop and you chose to overstimulate yourself.

“You sleep in my arms tonight,” he says, kissing you sweetly before he lies beside you and spread one arm to keep you close.

Although you're both exhausted and tired from pleasuring each other, that is not the reason why you and the prince stayed up until the sun is rising. The whole time, he was playing with your fingers, caressing your body and feeling his fingertips glide on your skin while he listens to you. Listening and not just hearing you talk. He was keeping the conversation with you, throwing you a lot of questions, hard and easy ones. It was his first time knowing someone he fucked.

“Tell me more” he says, leaving a kiss on your shoulder as you enjoy your comfort while you lie on your side and admire his godlike features. He was asking for more stories about your childhood because he didn’t have one. He was giving you kisses in exchange for your stories that make him feel alive and present in this world.

“Are you not tired?” you asked him with a smile.

“Talk until I fall asleep” he drags you near him so he can cage you with his strong arms and keep you close until he wakes up. He closes his eyes and waited for you to talk again, drawing small circles on your back so you know that he’s still awake.

“Paint, I love to paint,” you said, and told him stories about how the colors make you feel alive and whenever you paint, you feel free. You were talking and talking and talking until you got too carried away and did not notice that he had finally fallen asleep and you decided you should too.

In his arms, you slept well and dreamt about home. You see how your family welcomed you home and their faces were clear as day, almost as if you’re not dreaming. Ever since the prince showed you kindness, you’ve been sleeping better and for that you are thankful. But for now, your beautiful sleep needed to be disturbed for a very sweet kiss woke you up.

“You smile in your sleep,” the prince says, greeting you good morning and seeing his naked body first thing in the morning. You sat up from the mattress and covered yourself with the Egyptian cotton blanket, squinting your eyes to protect it from the bright sun. “Good morning my gift,” he greets you again, caressing your thigh under the blanket. Oh its too early to commit sin but the way he makes you feel good with his finger is inviting. “Spread your legs,” he says, and so you did.

Up and down he moves his two fingers in your very wet slit, you almost feel sorry for ruining these expensive sheets with your juices, but what can you do? The prince wants you soaked. “You were so amazing last night that I dreamt about you,” he came closer to you and removed his fingers to join you under the blanket and position himself in between your legs.

“You had me under the stars last night, are you going to have me under the sun too?” You asked with a playful tone, giggling under the covers with him and enjoying the closeness of your body. He is a big man, but his warm body feels good on top of you. Skin to skin, chest to chest, while his manhood is inside you. “You’re rather gentle now,” you added, letting out a soft moan and smiling weakly at him.

“It’s too early to be rough” he smiles and grabs your waist, thrusting deeper while he kisses your neck and marks you wherever he wants especially on your chest area, or swipe his tongue on you and devour your sweet lips.

“Thank you, I still ache from last night” you inform him, returning his sweet kisses with a smile and soft giggle that is soon replaced with a delicious moan.

“Apologies then, what do you feel now?” deeper and slower he goes. Making you feel every bit of him by stretching you so good while he holds your hand and kisses them while he thrusts. “Not going to l-last longer” he says and gave you a few sharp thrusts, making your breast bounce then did not hesitate to pull out and pumped his manhood away from you, ruining the expensive sheets with his thick cum.

He feels so warm and weak, groaning while you watch him pump his cock in front of you. What a sight. The prince looked so hot. All naked and glistening as the morning light shines upon him. “Do you know it's a crime to stare at me like that?” He asks with a smile. It was a joke but you can’t help but think that you’re lucky enough to see him like this, to look at him with lustful eyes to hold him whenever it pleases you.

“W-were not yet done?” you ask when you saw him spreading your legs again, oh his stamina is unbelievable. He didn’t answer your question but instead, he kisses your lower abdomen and kissed your body and breasts until he reaches your lips. And there’s that feeling again that the world is stopping whenever his lips touch yours, you like what’s happening and you don’t care if you’re not home anymore. Or maybe that’s the lust talking.

“Where did you learn how to kiss like that” it was not a question, he just simply wanted to let you know that your kisses do something to him. And while kissing you, the prince felt something he has never felt before. He was quite sure that it’s called admiration and want. He is slowly becoming possessive with every swipe of his tongue on your lips, he is slowly falling into your charms with every touch of your hands on his chest and the way your hands roam around like he is yours.

“I know I promised your freedom but can you stay a little longer?” he kisses your hands and kept them close to his heart. A gesture that is saying he is requesting, asking politely, and leaving you the decision because he respects you.

“I’ll stay” you answered without hesitation because it is what your heart wants. He has been nice to you, although he needed to put an act first but his true colors were inviting. “With two conditions,” you added, stopping him from attacking you with kisses.

“No lies and don’t die whenever you go to war,” you said sternly to which he’s very happy to hear.

After that beautiful morning, you and the prince spend your entire day naked in his comfortable bed, enjoying the lovely weather of Egypt and its calm breeze. Talking and exchanging stories, knowing each other deeper and accepting each other through honesty.  

Then night after night the prince have you on every corner of his room or wherever he pleases. Making beautiful and lustful memories all around the palace. And whenever you’re both clothed and decent, he walks with you and shows everyone that you now have a special place in his life, something you’re never going to get used to but slowly it sinks in. You started dressing up in expensive clothes because he says so, giving you expensive jewelry all around your wrists and your neck. But most importantly, he is giving you more reasons to stay with him.

One fine day while you were waiting for Johnny with a book in your hand, he arrived very excited and was in a rush to bring you somewhere. Perhaps another secret place where he can fuck you? Or a surprise picnic? You really have no clue. But when you finally arrived at the place where he is very much excited to show you, every wild guess disappeared for you know exactly what the place is for.

Different colors of vibrant pigments, all came in different sizes. Paintbrushes from small to big ones made with soft hairs. And the canvas… is the place itself. “Johnny, this place is huge. I feel so small,” you said, feeling dizzy with how high the walls are but you are very much excited to paint on those.

“Paint all you want from now on, I know how you miss your home. I hope this will suffice” he gently pats your head, cup your face, and kissed you. “I have to go somewhere… dangerous again” he informs you, hoping to get a positive reaction from you.

Well, you can’t stop him and you know that all too well. You were quiet and if you’re being honest you don’t know what to say, but you do know that you want him to go home in one piece. “Remember your promise,” is all you can say to him.

“I won’t die” he giggles and intertwines your fingers with his.

When the prince left the next morning, you can’t help but worry for him and be scared that something bad might happen. But whenever you remember his bright smile when he promised you he won’t die, your heart warms instantly and you can finally get on with your day.

Using the gifts that the prince left you, you painted for hours and hours, from sun up until sundown. Sleeping on the floor next to the paints rather than the huge and comfortable bed because you can’t handle the cold there. And whenever you’re taking a rest from painting, you still spend your time alone rather than make friends and talk to the maids.

It was lonely when Johnny is not around. You don’t know when will he arrive, and worrying will do no good so you waited patiently instead. Day after day you did the same things. Paint, eat alone, be alone, paint some more and sleep on the cold floor.

Until finally, a pair of arms surprised you, encircled perfectly on your waist and you can finally feel that familiar warmth again. You put down the paintbrush and tried turning around to welcome him home with kisses but he stopped you. “I look filthy” he said, but you did not care and still turned around.

To your surprise, you almost did not recognize him. His face is full of dirt and blood, small and big bruises on his face but thankfully no broken bones this time. He was quiet. No sweet kisses for you and obviously he’s tired. “We both look dirty” he giggles and reached for your hand to wipe off the paint from it, “what you did here is beautiful” he said and pulls you to a hug which you returned without having second thoughts.

He recognizes your paintings. He is sure that it's from your home, memories from home to keep you happy perhaps. Johnny searched for anything or something that says you missed him too while he’s away, perhaps a sunflower? But he found none. Little did he know, that you missed him terribly too that you chose to sleep on the floor.

After your quick reunion, you washed his face, treated his wounds and decided to take a warm bath together. The silence was deafening and so you talked and talked until he finally says something.  

“Do I make you happy?” he asks sincerely while scrubbing your back and pouring warm water on your skin. Bathing with him brings you a different kind of calm. You nod your head ‘yes’ to answer his question, caressing his thighs underwater. Then you feel him kiss your neck softly and encircle his arms on your waist underwater.

“I’m setting you free” he says.

And those words made your heart ache in an instant that you turned and faced him with worried eyes. You should be happy by now because finally you can be free and see your family, but why are you sad? He just came back and now you’re going to be separated again?

“But” he added which made you nervous even more.

“It pains me to let you go. That’s why I promise to take care of you and love you day and night… if you choose to stay” you always see him as an honest and sincere man but now his sincerity is different. It has a mixture of hurt and hopelessness like he already knew you’re going to leave him that’s why he made such an offer and confessed in the middle of a huge bathroom and while taking a bath.

“A few months ago, I told you I’ll stay and that’s not because I’m doing you a favor but because I really wanted to stay with you. I’m still choosing to stay-“

He cut you off with sweet kisses until water splashed on you and him, there are tears in his eyes but it wasn’t visible because of the water. Happy tears that only you can give him.

And that is how your story with Johnny started. It started with doing what your heart wants with all honesty, choosing to love each other and stay together. After that very momentous bath, he became Johnny to you and not the prince of Egypt, but the man you chose to love from now on.

YEARS LATER    

Life with Johnny was never easy but it was full of love and he had kept his promise. Everyday, day and night he loved you more and more each day. And eventually, fucking was replaced by passionate love making which something you both love doing.

“So good” he groans and lets out soft moans while you bounce your body on top of him, driving him crazy and make him beg for more. You intertwined your fingers with his, sucking his fingers while your roll your hips deliciously. He can be rough with you in order to drive him mad, but you, you need only lustful eyes, your womanhood, and your tongue.

“Ooooh-“ he groaned a little louder than before and shoots his thick cum inside you while you drill your hips make sure you won’t miss a drop. “I hope you get pregnant this time” he said with ragged breaths, encircling his arms around you and placed sweet kisses on your face and on your lips.

You’ve been trying to have a child now but the gods are not in favor of it, so you and Johnny decided to try until you succeed. Usually, one round is not enough for the both of you but when you both realized that it’s going to be like this forever, there is no need to exhaust yourselves anymore because you can simply make love again tomorrow.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, how many babies are we going to have in the future?” your question made him laugh. The sound of his giggles vibrates on your body because you’re too close with each other and you can’t help but laugh with him too.

“A lot,” he simply answers your question and kisses you before he covers your body with a thicker blanket.

Life with Johnny is sweet, not because you’re now comfortable and he showers you with gold. But because he showers you with the love you deserve and he now takes care of your family too and even provided your father’s medicine. Even though you haven’t seen them in years, now they know that you’re in good hands for you write to them and let them know that you’re well. But for Johnny’s safety, you didn’t dare tell them that you are in a relationship with him.

It may be sweet and comfortable for you, but it is not always like this. Of course, there are hard times that you have to face with Johnny. Like when his advisors see you as his whore and not someone whom he truly loves, when his father did not accept you and almost took away Johnny’s right to the throne, and when you planned on running away so the people around him can stop doubting him as the future ruler. All these problems but Johnny chose you. Always.

“I love you”

He whispers and caressed your face while watching you sleep. Having one last look before he starts his day without you and faces yet another stressful day.  

Now that his coronation is getting near, many people have been seeking his attention and had been trying to rebel against him. He may be a great fighter, and he honors the throne, but the people around him do not see him as someone who can rule and solve the nation’s problems.

Heartbroken. That’s what he feels when he thinks about being king in the next few weeks.

“My uncle and cousins are active lately, seeking the people of Egypt’s hearts, courting them, and feeding them lies. My own family... is planning to overthrow me” he informs you. Frustrated and stressed beyond you could have ever imagined. It pains you to see him like this.

“I am no advisor. But be strong my love and still do your best to rule, prove them wrong” you encourage him, trying your best to give him strength. But all he gave you is a sly smile and a kiss on the forehead, leaving you to go and study more about the things he should know for his kingdom until eventually, you find him asleep on his desk. Shivering from a cold night and all you can do is put a blanket around him.

After a few weeks, Johnny is crowned king of Egypt. A celebration that’s very beautiful but you’re not allowed to stand near him because you’re a slave and people will recognize you. But you know all too well that Johnny imagines you being on his side.

They say that the crown is naturally heavy but if it weighs too much that even your heart can’t carry it, then you are not fit to rule. And that is exactly what Johnny feels right now, but trying is the most important thing for him. Running away from his duty is not him. He will continue to try and be a better pharaoh than his father.

“Where have you been?” you giggle and soothe his strong arms that are encircled around your waist. Accepting the kisses he’s giving to you for it has been far too long since the last time you’ve been together alone. He had been working hard for his nation, he looked tired than ever.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful” he says while looking at the sunflowers you painted on the walls. A thousand sunflowers for the gods, in exchange for Johnny’s safety… or a child, if they permit. “I visited our room last night, but you weren’t there. I knew you were here but I needed to go already. I’ve missed you so much” he turned your body so he could see you finally, cleaning your hands full of paint with his own clothes. A gesture that simply tells you that whenever he’s with you he’s just a simple man who loves you so much and not the king of Egypt.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I’m in a rush to finish this so I can finally offer something to the gods and they can grant me my wish” you rake his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, that’s not how a future queen of Egypt should behave, my love” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, picking up the used paintbrushes and cleaning them.

Then you realized he said something.

“Say that again, my love” you request as you watch him come closer to you with a smile. “Was that a question? You never addressed me as someone-“

“Will you marry me? Be the queen of Egypt and become my wife? Be my best advisor, help me to be a better man?” he finally said it. Straight forward and will all honesty, as always.

“Y-yes. Of course, I would like to be your wife. But your people won’t allow it,” you answered excitedly. Eyes with tears that continuously flow. He cupped your face and thanked you for saying yes, not caring about your concern for he doesn’t care what others will say.

The celebration of being engaged is continued in your shared room with wine, fruits, hope, and dreams. It was a night a fun night with your future husband where you enjoy the company of each other after such a long time. Johnny made sure that you made the right decision and promised you a better life.

“What more could be better? We have everything already Johnny” you put a grape in his mouth before you lie beside him.

“What was your prayers to the gods again?” he asks, out of nowhere. To be honest you did not expect he would be interested. “Maybe I can give it to you instead?” he added and it instantly made your heart full.

“My first prayer is, for your safety wherever you go. Nothing scares me the most than knowing that wherever you go, your life is always in danger my love” he tightens his embrace, silently thanking the gods for bringing you into his life.

“And the second?”

You breathe deeply first before you answer him, “A baby… but your safety comes first” you said sternly, pointing at his chest and drilling your pointer finger on his skin so he knows how scared you are. He caught your hand and kiss it one too many times.

“I love you, I promise to be careful so we can make babies during our marriage,” he promised sincerely.

On the next day, Johnny’s first agenda was to tell everyone about the good news. At least its a good news for him, but not for everyone. His father, advisors and other members of the elite society were disappointed upon hearing that he wants to marry a slave.

When Johnny became king, all of Egypt starved. That’s why everyone thinks that being married to a slave and throwing a big wedding is not appropriate.

“Do you think I’m a pushover? I am the morning and evening star, your king, and I kept this nation together and kept it safe with all my power. You owe me your lives. And I am not seeking your approval, I am simply telling you that I am to be married to the woman I love. Besides, I don’t want to see your faces on my wedding day and ruined it for me”

Silence ate the room and only the sound of afternoon winds surrounds the room. “Dismissed” he commands and they immediately left, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts.

The wedding was simple and private because it is what you wanted and thankfully Johnny is not a fan of grand celebrations too. You both thought that the gods will spare your wedding day and give you a peaceful day just this once. But no, because a murder took place in the palace and it happened while you and Johnny are enjoying your wedding night.

He is deep inside you, thrusting roughly but with care at the same time. Hands on your waist to keep you in position as he fucks you from behind and leave kisses on your shoulders.

You were moaning so good, while you grip the sheets and part your lips, telling your husband how you feel and beg for more.

Until his advisors entered the room uninvited and have no care for privacy. Johnny quickly covered your body and hid you behind him. “YOU HAVE NO RESPECT!” He shouted so loud that you were sure everyone in the palace heard him.

But still, his advisors did not move an inch and waited for him to stop shouting.

“Our king... y-your parents have been murdered”

And that is when everything turned black in Johnny’s eyes. He put on his robe, ran towards his parent's room and saw the gruesome murder.

He didn’t understand why but he was heartbroken and very much angry that he punished all the guards on duty that night and everyone staying at the palace except you.

Well, you wouldn’t think that you’re not being punished. You’ve been feeling sick for days already and you have been having morning sickness more often. Then you realized you haven’t bled yet and immediately called a nurse, a good friend whom you can trust to confirm if you are with child.

You are.

And that is your punishment. Knowing that your prayer has been answered but Johnny is grieving and is away from you. Not seeing your husband and knowing that he’s out there punishing people, punishing innocent people makes your heart break. Apparently, asking for a peaceful life is too much.

Finally, Johnny found out who plotted his parent’s murder. And it is no other than his cousins who wanted him to give up the throne. And because of that, his anger grew much worse. Now he does not only punish people but also put them to death for Johnny believes that he is being betrayed by the people around him.

It has become the darkest time in Egypt.

“The is the only place that I can show my weak and grieving side. I’m so tired, my love. This is not me but all of Egypt is mad and wants to kill me. What can I do?” You hush him and gave him a tight embrace which he accepted and returned. “Do you want to kill me too?” He asks you and you can’t believe you’re hearing this from him.

“Never. I did not paint a thousand sunflowers for the gods so that I can wish you to be gone” you sat on his lap and reached for his hand, putting it above your belly. Hoping that he understands what you’re saying.

He did. But he wasn’t happy.

And all you can do is understand him because he is going through so much right now.

“The gods must hate me so much to give us a child during these dark times” he said bitterly.

You didn’t have a choice but to get up from his lap and place a kiss on his temple. You may miss him. So much. But it is useless to have a conversation with someone who’s full of hatred towards the world.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m blinded with anger” he tried reaching for your hand but you refuse and lie on your side of the bed. Closing your eyes and remembering the happy memories you had with him over the years.

“Do you know what’s on my mind?” you did not answer him, “I would like to give up the throne and live a simple and fruitful life with you but I can’t. Kings don’t run away from battles” he says. Keeping you close and leaving kisses on your clothed stomach. Chanting apologies and saying how much he loves you before you both sleep.

Day after day, Johnny became even more scared for you and especially for your child. Now that you have a chance to be a family, Johnny is even more obsessed with fixing everything using his own ways but everything is not going according to plan. The assassins weren’t satisfied yet and they have been killing innocent people that Johnny trusts. And his cousins won’t admit the crime that they have been doing for Johnny lacks proof. It frustrates him greatly.

Now that you’re with child he stays with you from sun up, to sundown. He doesn’t care if people are uncomfortable with seeing the king with a slave, all that matters now is your safety. He is scared to the bone that he carries his sword around him and does not go to sleep so he could guard you in your sleep.

“I used to do this during your first nights here. I guard you in your sleep and watch you smile as you dream. But that’s maybe because back then we have peace. I’m sorry I can’t give you a peaceful life”

As Johnny continues to think of many ways on how to protect you, he kept you hidden in your museum and watched you paint. It calms him. And as he looks around the place, he looked long and hard at your artwork and remember the days when you used to miss home. Then he realized that it is the only way to keep you safe. The only problem is you will not agree on it.

“You do know that when I leave and they found out that you’re all alone now, they will not stop until they kill you then take your throne” you said sternly. Hearing his plan about sending you home makes you angry and misses him already.

“As long as I fight until the end. The only way to stop them and keep you safe is to give them the satisfaction of killing me. No one knew about our child, please listen to me my love. This is the only way that I can give our child a peaceful life” he begs.

You don’t want to admit that he is right and you don’t have any other choice now. But leaving him pains you greatly, that even just thinking about it scares you.

Eventually, you and Johnny plotted your escape and made you go home safe. With the help of your family and a few soldiers, they managed to get you out of the palace without anyone noticing it. But you can’t let go of Johnny’s hand. You kissed and kissed until there's no more time left to be together. You said your goodbyes and final promises to each other and accept your fate.

“I’ll find you in our second life, whatever happens. Live my love, live happily” he says and removed your tight grip before he disappears with his soldiers. And that is your last memory of the man you loved.

It was the darkest moment for the both of you.  

Johnny knew that being away from you will not be easy and it will make him weak in an instant. In fact, it made him crazy. Everyday, he goes to your museum and seeks comfort with your paintings. Constantly thinks about you and pray that you are well and healthy.  

“Finally, you’re safe” he murmured.

After a few days, the news that the king is dead has spread all across Egypt and everyone celebrated. Everyone except you and the few people who knew the truth about the assassination in the palace. Hearing them celebrate sickens you for they don’t know how Johnny struggled to keep his nation alive and safe and that he is not the enemy, the true enemy is the one sitting on the throne now.

Hearing that he was assassinated in your museum broke your heart for you knew that he longed for you until his dying breath.

After all, the thousand sunflowers you painted for the gods did not go to waste. But it was your second wish that they granted and not the first.

[to-star-lake]

Mars [ I ]

pairing | kth x reader genre | ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung word count | 5.5k

The first time you saw him you were alone. 

It was dark. Pitch black behind the counter of an abandoned cafe where you were hiding. You were split up from the group you’d been traveling with during the raid. You heard the whoosh of an incoming bomb somewhere in the distance, then the thundering boom when it hit. The building shook. Dust and soot fell from the ceiling. You clasped your hands together over your head, hiding your face between your knees.

Outside you could hear screams from all directions. The sound of rapid gunfire. The crunch of wooden beams and bricks being crushed under the weight of the enemy tanks that rolled over them in the streets. 

You were scared, but you didn’t cry. Actually, you couldn’t remember when the last time was that you did cry. How long had it been since you were displaced from your home and your family because of the war? How long had it been since you were in the company of anyone you knew? The last you saw of your hometown, a small quiet village by the sea - it was burning, lost to a cloud of flames and ash. You’d long since stopped crying. Long since stopped wishing for the war to end, wishing for better days, for safety, for any kind of comfort. You came to accept the hunger, the cold, the stench of burning bodies in the streets, being on the run. 

You heard the sound of glass shattering. Where was it? The building across the road? But the sound was too close. You lifted your head from under your arms and before you, as a reflection in the glass of the cabinet once meant to hold pastries, you saw the shadow of a man entering the cafe. He was alone, you noted. You had a chance. 

Sliding further down under the counter, you held close to your chest the small pastry knife you found on the counter when you first entered the building when the raid warning horns blasted across the town. You became conscious of every breath you took, breathing in and out slowly and with purpose - to slow down your heart rate, and in hopes of concealing your presence. 

Glass crunched under his boots as he walked into the building. You gripped the knife tighter in your hand. He stopped moving. You inched yourself just ever so slightly to your left, so you could find his reflection in the glass again but it was too much. 

The glass shattered in an instant as a bullet hit it. You quickly ducked your face behind your forearms, you could feel the sting on your skin as stray shards streaked across it. You shouldn’t have looked. He saw you. 

He fired thrice more, breaking the glass of the counter above you. Broken glass fell all around you and you pulled your limbs in even closer, hearing your own shallow breaths like an echo in your ears, ringing from the sound of the gun firing so close. You waited until it was quiet again. And you ran. 

You stood, and forced your legs to pick up as much momentum and speed in a few seconds as your weak body could muster. Just to the door. Just to the exit out the back of the building. But as fast as you tried to move, he was faster. 

Wood splinters broke off from the door frame where he fired another shot as you tried to run through it. You heard his steps behind you, wondering just how it was possible he was able to catch up to you so quickly. You swung around, lashing the knife in your hand but he ducked back, the blade missing the skin of his cheek by centimeters. His hand gripped around your arm, squeezing your wrist in a painful clutch. Your hand fell open, the knife dropped to the floor, clattering as it hit the broken glass under your feet. 

You writhed, trying to break free of his grasp but failed. The darkness made it difficult to see, but he towered above you, a vice grip on your wrist, and his eyes were hidden behind a veil of dark hair. But even in the dark you could tell the uniform he wore - a black coat with gold trimming, the patch over his chest, an emblem of the enemy. 

“Please..let me go..” the words you uttered would sound like a desperate plea, but the tone of your voice showed him that you were resigned to whatever fate will bring. You knew you were done for. You’d been captured. There was no way he would just let you go. 

Thoughts of what will befall you ran through your mind. Would you be sent to the labor camps in the north - to work, to freeze, to starve, to die a slow, painful, diseased death? Would he claim you as a spoil of war - make you serve him, a slave girl, to use you in any way he pleased? Or would he be merciful - and put a bullet in your head here and now? You prayed for this last. 

Past him you could see a tank turning onto the road, the flash of light from the high beam flew past your face, and you felt him run a hand behind your head, lacing his fingers into your hair, pulling your face back into the light. This pain barely registered, lost between the deafening ringing in your ears and the blood that trickled down your arms from splintered wood and crushed glass, your nerves were frayed after years of being on the run. 

He stepped closer, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. You could see the splatters of blood across his face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood on his clothes made you nauseous. You held your breath, and from behind the long strands of his hair, dripping droplets of blood onto his cheeks, he examined your face. 

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, he let go of your hair, but kept his hand around your wrist and pulled you out from behind the counter. He brought you out onto the street, tugging you while you screamed in protest, though you knew no one was there to answer your pleas for help. Your bare feet dragged and pulled against him on the gravel and broken glass in the street. He brought you to an armored vehicle outside the building. 

You screamed in protest, pushing against the metal frame of the door, writhing and wriggling your body in any way you could but it was useless against the force and strength of his arms. He pushed you onto the passenger seat and held both your wrists up to the handle above the door. He looped a zip tie around your wrists and tied you up to the handle, so tight you swore the plastic material cut into your skin. He then tied your ankles. 

All around you was fire, ash and smoke. Bodies dropping to the ground under a cloud of red dust. He moved swiftly around the vehicle, jumping into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and you fell back against the seat, swaying with the force of the car as he turned and sped down the road through the burning town. 

You must’ve been in the car for hours when he pulled up to a set of black iron gates, guarded by six men armed with machine guns that hung around their torsos. They seemed to recognize him immediately, saluting and greeting him. They exchanged glances and shot you looks, but no one made mention of you, only opening the gate immediately to let him drive through. 

He stopped in front of a large stone estate. You recognized it. It had once been the home of the governor of this land. Now it housed the enemy combatants. You wondered what happened to the family that lived here before the war. 

He walked around to the passenger side and pulled a knife from his belt. You flinched but he reached up to untie you from the handle above the door. He cut through the ties that bound your feet. You grimaced as he pulled you from the vehicle, the cut-up soles of your feet stung against the rough gravel. 

“Captain!” 

You turned at the voice. A young man, tall and thin, donned in the same uniform as the man that captured you, appeared from within the estate. Only now in the brightly lit lot of the compound you could see his young man had far less pins and medals than the man that brought you here. 

He hurried down the steps of the building and saluted the man beside you. 

“The town’s taken.”

Hearing his voice for the first time shocked you. Partly because it was at a much lower register than the young man saluting him, and partly because you did not expect him, the enemy, a dog of war, to have such a sophisticated tone. 

“Sir, that’s excellent, the General will be glad to hear of it-”

Before he could finish, the man beside you pushed you forward, causing you to momentarily lose your balance, and you would’ve fallen to the ground had the young man not caught you in his arms and steadied you back onto your feet. 

“Take her to Inah.” 

“Um..sure, uh, I mean, yes sir!” the young man called out. 

The man he called Captain swung the heavy machine gun he carried around his torso off, and slid off his overcoat. Even though the shirt he wore underneath was black, you could tell from the way the material was dampened and stuck to his skin that it was drenched in blood. 

“And Soobin,” he turned to address the young man as he walked up the steps. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“No one touches her.” 

The young man made a face. “Sir?”

The Captain turned and continued up the steps. “Have Inah tend to her wounds and get her some fresh clothing and food. Then bring her to my quarters.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Once the Captain had gone, the young man turned and looked down at your face, speckled with dried blood and ash and dust, your hair clumped together from not having been washed in what felt like ages. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of you. 

“Come on,” he grabbed onto your arm and pulled you roughly up the steps of the building. 

Inside there were many guards, roaming the halls in pairs. The rooms were dimly lit by wood-burning fires, or candles on chandeliers overhead. It was surprisingly quiet inside. So quiet it brought a ghastly unease, a stark contrast to the shell-shocked war zones you’d fled. 

He led you up a marble stairwell, down several hallways, until you reached the end of a narrow hall and he knocked on a single door at the end. The door creaked open and you saw a woman emerge from behind it. 

“The Captain wishes her to be cleaned and given fresh clothing,” Soobin pronounced, and you watched as an almost indetectable flicker went across her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure. 

“...the Captain?” she asked in a small, squeaky voice. 

“Yes, and once that’s done, the Captain wishes she be brought to his quarters. And instruct the servants to bring his supper as well.” He shoved you forward through the open door. 

“Yes, sir,” the woman said, bowing. The young man turned swiftly and left down the hall. 

She closed the door behind him, and looking around, you found yourself in the drawing room of what looked to be the servants’ quarters. There was no decor, sparse furniture, and the room felt cold compared to the rest of the house. 

“Lira,” the woman sighed. 

“Yes, Lady Inah?” you turned and saw a girl who could not be older than you emerge from an adjacent room. 

“Please go down to the kitchen and instruct the servants to bring supper to the Captain, he’s returned.” 

The girl gave a small bow before turning and leaving. As she left, two other girls came into the room. You stood, arms clasped in front of your chest, cold and unsure what to do. 

“Bring water and a washcloth,” the woman instructed. One of the girls nodded, bowing and leaving to her task. “And a fresh gown.” The other girl followed suit. 

The woman looked at you up and down, walking a circle around you like an appraiser assessing an item. The girls returned and they assisted the woman in stripping you of all your clothing against your yells of protest. They cleaned your face and body with washcloths and warm water that smelled of berries and mint. They poured water over your head, and ran a brush through your hair, and cleaned it with rose fragranced water. They cleaned the scrapes and cuts on your arms and your feet, and bandaged them lightly with linens. Then they pulled a white gown over your head. It hung loosely around your chest and torso, the straps were adjusted to keep from falling off your shoulders.

“Follow me,” the woman said. 

She led you out into the hall, through a labyrinth of turns and stairs to the uppermost level of the house, to a set of large double doors in a glossy, veneered oak. One of the doors was slightly ajar, and you could see the orange glow of a fire from within. 

“You will not speak unless first spoken to,” the woman instructed, coming to a halt before the doors. “You will obey the Captain’s wishes, all the Captain’s wishes.” She knocked quietly on the doors. “The Captain has never brought back a servant, and he has never wished to take any of the girls here at the compound,” she lowered her voice. “Consider yourself lucky. If the Captain fancies you, you may be allowed more freedoms and be given more rewards than any of the other servant girls here. The General holds him in the highest favor because of his wrath and cruelty in war. He is an esteemed soldier.” 

“Come in,” you heard his voice from within the room. 

You felt your chest tighten.

“Just keep your head down, and do as you’re told,” were her last words before she adjusted her posture, and cautiously, pushed the door open a bit more, and entered. 

“Sir, I have brought you the girl,” she pushed your forward. 

The room was expansive, and there were doorways you saw that led to adjacent rooms. At the far end, there were  large windows, reaching from the ceiling to the floor, they must’ve been eight meters tall. Two of them were doors, with large bronze handles that led out to a marble balcony. The room was lit by a billowing fire from a stone hearth. Against the wall there was a large bed under a velvet canopy. Occupying the rest of the room was a round table with two chairs beside it, on top of which held dishes, steam rising from them, a basket of assorted breads and pastries, and a tea set. And beside that, close to the fire, you saw a cot, low to the ground, covered with a wool military-issue blanket and a small, square pillow. 

“You may leave,” he said, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. 

The woman took a deep bow, and turned to leave the room. She closed the door behind her and all there was was you, standing in the middle of the floor of his room. And him, unfastening the buttons of his shirt, and sliding it from his body, and all he had was a dark t-shirt, tucked into the black military slacks. 

He sighed, tossing the shirt aside onto the floor before looking up at you. 

He’d pushed his hair back, revealing his eyes and in the orange glow of the fire, and in his dark irises you could see only what you’d always seen in the enemy - brutality, savagery, violence. 

He stood, and you listened to the thump of his boots against the marble floor as he made his way over to the table beside the fire. He pulled out a seat and stood behind it. 

“Sit.” 

You moved cautiously toward the table, your legs buckling from pain of overuse in all your running and hiding. You sat slowly, and he took a seat across the table from you. 

“Eat,” he moved an empty porcelain plate toward you, and began putting morsels of food onto it - a piece of bread, a bowl of soup, some kind of vegetable and meat dish you hardly recognized because it’d been so long since the last time you tasted anything other than stale and moldy bread. He began plating food onto his own dish as well, and you watched, listening with disgust as he held a piece of bread to his lips, ripping off a piece with his teeth. The sound of him chewing made you nauseous, you wanted to throw up. 

He stopped, noticing your obvious discomfort - you’d pushed yourself against the back of the seat, your body rigid. He set down the fork in his hand, sighing. 

“Eat, you must be starving,” he reached across the table, pushing your plate closer to you. 

You didn’t move. 

He brought the napkin that laid on his lap to his lips, then dropped it onto the table. “What’s your name?” 

You didn’t answer. 

He sighed, standing up and moving his chair beside you. You flinched. He sat down, too close to you for comfort, and took the utensils that lay beside your plate and began cutting the food into bite-sized pieces. He took the piece of bread and broke that up too, dropping pieces of it into the soup to soften. 

Your eyes caught the balcony door behind him, not five feet away - it was slightly ajar. He noticed this. 

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” his voice lowered, setting the utensils back down on the table. “I can’t do anything for you if you leave this room, if you attempt to flee. My men will shoot you immediately.” He sat back in his seat, resting his hands on his legs. “What’s your name?” he asked again. 

You still did not answer. 

“Even the people of this godforsaken country have names,” he sighed. 

This woke an anger in you. 

You grabbed the dinner knife from beside your plate and lunged toward him, but just as before, he was faster. He grabbed your arm, squeezing it and the knife fell from your hand. He pulled you onto the floor beneath him and he closed his other hand around your throat with enough force that you felt your larynx would be crushed if he closed his hand just the slightest bit more. He could kill you like this, and it would be easy for him. 

Your eyes began watering. You weren’t crying, the warm droplets that fell were due to you the pain of the hand closed around your throat, your eyes stung from the salt of your tears as you gasped for air. 

“You’re nothing but a killer..” you choked out. Something seemed to flash across his eyes, and he dropped you to the floor. You coughed hacking breaths, fighting for air. You had only the strength to hold yourself on your forearms. “This was a beautiful country, a peaceful country of farmers and horsemen. Why did you come..you destroyed everything..you know nothing of this land, of its people, you kill and torture indiscriminately..” you rasped. 

Through the hair that’s fallen over your face you could see him lean onto his elbows on his legs, sighing. After a moment he stood, bending over to pick you up in his arms, but you screamed and yelled, hitting him with ineffective fists and he walked you over to the cot in the corner, dropping you on it. 

You tried to stand, but your legs failed you, and his hand fell on your shoulder, and with just the smallest amount of force he was able to push you back down. 

He crouched in front of you, and reached a hand up to brush a few strands of hair from your shoulder, to examine your neck. You flinched at the contact, and he retracted his hand quickly. 

“I’ll have them keep the food here, but it’ll become cold if you don’t eat it soon. You’ll sleep here. I apologize this was all I could manage for tonight, I will arrange for better accommodations tomorrow. The adjacent room is my office, I’ll be taking meetings tonight and working, I hope that will not disturb you too much. Servants will also be coming in and out to bring tea, help yourself to whatever you’d like. There is a bathroom through that door on the other side.” He stood. “Do not attempt to escape. I say this for your own sake.” 

---

For as long as he could remember, he’d been a soldier. When he was young, in the dusty streets of his hometown, impoverished, homeless, without family, living off of what he could beg for, what he could find, what he could steal. 

All around him was uproar, anger and fury, unrest amongst the people. Disease ran rampant in this poor country, there was not enough food and water, the people suffered. He heard tell of a nation to the west - a thriving nation, of lush green fields that rose on high white towers of rock above a pale blue ocean. Of abundant food, of smiles and laughter, without worries of whether one would live to see the sunrise the next day. 

He lingered on that thought - the thought of sunrise. How long had it been since he’d seen the sun, shining clear and bright in the sky? When it didn’t seem so far away in the distance, hidden behind the billowing clouds of brown dust that plagued this nation? When was the last time he didn’t feel the hunger? The thirst, his skin and lips cracked and bleeding in the dry heat. 

War lords had risen across this sickened nation, amassing followers to their various causes, committing atrocities, pillaging towns and stealing what little was there in the first place. Until a man rose above it all, preaching that he would bring prosperity and hope to the people - that he would seek to bring the riches of the nation beside it to the people who were in real need of it. He tended the small, flickering flames that were people’s anger and discontent and grew it into an army, built on fury and malice, with a singular goal of bringing down the nation beside, and to share and revel in the riches that it would bring.

The boy was nineteen when he first saw a piece of dusty war propaganda on the street. He brushed the layer of dust away, and his eyes opened wide at the image it held - a drawing of young man in a peaked cap, facing a bright orange and red setting sun beyond the ocean, he stood on a cliff beside a pony, in grass so tall and lush it rose to his chest. 

He wondered what that would feel like. The grass that tickled at your skin, how soft it must be. The smell of the ocean. Rays of a warm sun hitting his bare skin. 

He’d kept the same spirit, the will to survive, and it served him well in the army. He rose through the ranks quickly. He fought well, better than anyone. He was ruthless. 

Soon, he’d gained the favor of the General, who named him Captain to an entire legion, which he led to devastating effect across the plains of the west to the ocean. 

He’d never wanted to kill anyone. He’d never wanted to burn down entire villages. He wanted to feel the sun, to dip his feet into the ocean, to know what sand would feel like beneath his feet. It began as a simple wish to do just that, but that wish became darkened by the deeds he piled up over the years, afflicted by an endless war, for the General did not stop at simply conquering this nation - his ambition and greed grew to an invasion of the entire continent. 

And as the years passed, he grew tired. Tired of the fire, of the burning smell of bodies in the streets, the wanton death and destruction. When he finally reached the ocean, the warmth of the sun on his face was not a welcoming sensation - the heat burned against his raw and scratched skin like a punishment for his sins. The waves of the ocean crashed against his body, cold as ice, and seemed to forsake him, pushing him back ashore. 

That night was not unlike any other he’d seen in the past six years. The general had instructions to burn down the three villages nearest to the compound they’d taken up, the former governor’s residence. His battalion was efficient, they had done this hundreds of times before. The homes and buildings in this small town burned down like butter close to a fire, this had become so easy for him he’d become numb to it. Numb to the destruction. 

A bomb dropped nearby and the row of buildings across the road from where he stood shook, cracks ran through the glass storefronts. Inside the buildings appeared dark and empty, he walked closer and broke through the glass of one of these storefronts. He detected movement, and on instinct, fired his weapon into the glass when he saw a figure stand from behind the counters, making a run for the rear exit. He fired again, but stopped immediately when he saw the long strands of dark hair. 

When he grasped onto your wrist and turned you to face him, he wondered how one could be so small, how one could be so fragile - he could break your wrist in his hand with just the slightest effort. When he looked into your eyes he was shaken by something familiar, something he recognized, a painful nostalgia. It was the look in your eyes - your spirit, that once held a will to fight, a will to survive, like he had as a child. But he could see that that spirit had been whittled down over the years, broken by a hopelessness so vast and heavy one could not escape it - you’d given up hope. 

“You’re nothing but a killer.” 

Your words echoed in his mind as he walked into his office in the adjacent room and took a seat behind a large mahogany desk. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin at the sight of your eyes, looking directly into his, without a single shred of fear - that they were cold, distant, detached, as the ocean had been when he’d finally touched it. They held no sympathy, though he did not expect they would. They were empty. 

“Sir, the General is here to see you.” 

He was brought out of his thoughts by a gentle knock on the door, and Soobin appeared through the frame, bowing. 

He nodded, “Soobin, please make arrangements to have furniture brought into this room first thing tomorrow. A bed, an armchair, and a nightstand to start. Have Inah bring the best linens she can find.” 

“Sir?” Soobin asked, a perplexed expression on his face. “What about your desk and chairs and books?”

“Have them moved into my room.” 

“Yes, sir,” he bowed again, and the Captain waved him off. As he left, the loud thumping of boots came into the room. 

“Taehyung.”

“General,” the Captain stood from his chair, taking a bow and saluting his commanding officer. 

“Oh please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony, it is only you and I here,” the General walked around to his side of the desk, his hands closing around the Captain’s arms, giving him a pat of approval on the shoulder. The Captain stepped aside, offering his chair to the General, who took a seat immediately. 

“The three towns northeast of here have been taken, tomorrow we will have scouts return to assess-”

“Oh Tae, there’s no need for that, I can get the details from one of the Lieutenants,” the General furrowed his brows, impatiently waving a hand in the air. 

“As you wish.” 

“Now tell me,” the General swung in his chair to face the Captain directly, his hands clasping together across his stomach. “I’ve just arrived here with my men, and what’s all this hubbub I’m hearing about a beautiful servant girl you’ve brought back?”

His jaw tightened. 

“Now, if I know you well, and I’d like to think I do after six years,” the General tilted his head quizzically to the side to look at the Captain’s face. “You are not the type to take a girl. Sure, all the men have taken girls for themselves, they have needs you know, I do not fault them for that.”

He looked down. 

“But you have seemed, over the years, to be quite, how shall I put it, well you look at the men with a bit of disdain? Though that would be a bit hypocritical, would it not, I know you’ve visited brothels here and there, I do understand that even you, the most stoic and controlled of soldiers must also give into your basest needs at some point..” 

He said nothing. 

“Oh now, surely I do not judge you, you are the best after all, you’re my favorite, you’ve won countless battles for me!” the General let out a nervous chuckle. “So it makes me wonder, who is this girl that you’ve suddenly decided to claim? Where did you find her? Where is she, may I see her?”

No, he answered definitively in his head. 

“She is being looked after by Inah,” he answered carefully after a moment. “She will be a serving girl in the compound, she will work in the kitchen and clean.” 

The General pondered this silently, much to the Captain’s dismay - he’d hoped he would not be questioned further on this. 

“So you mean to say..” the General began slowly, raising an eyebrow. “That this girl is free to serve whomever here?” 

The Captain stood abruptly. “Sir, as you said, I have done much for your,” he caught himself. “Our cause. I don’t yet have plans for this girl, but I do intend for her to earn her keep. As to whom she serves, I would greatly appreciate it if you and the other captains would remember that she belongs to me.” 

The General stared in incredulity at the Captain for a few moments, but the corners of his mouth soon lifted and he broke into boisterous laughter. “Oh Taehyung, my boy, look how serious you’ve suddenly become!” he stood, laughing and making his way over to the Captain. He put his hands around his shoulders once again, “Of course, she belongs to you, you found her, who else should we have her serve? Oh come now, you must be exhausted after this week, get some good rest. Though, if what I hear of this girl is true, you may yet have more physical exertion ahead of you tonight,” he chuckled. 

The Captain felt his hand close into the fist. It took all of his concentration and effort not to hit the General’s face, puffy and red from years of overindulging in liquor and food and tobacco. He composed himself, giving a low bow to the General as he turned and walked out into the hall. The Captain quickly closed the door behind him and took a deep breath in to calm himself. 

Slowly, he moved to the door on the opposite end of the room, peering quietly over the opening. Past the small dining table, he could see you, huddled back against the wall beside the cot. You sat on the floor, your knees pulled in tightly to your body, your head leaned to the side against the stone wall. The light emanating from the fire allowed him to see your face, your expression - that it had not changed since he left you a few moments ago. Your eyes held resignation, a numbing coldness. 

The Captain moved slowly back to his desk and took a seat in the leather armchair beside it. He reached out for the map that laid on the top of his desk and looked at the large red circles and arrows on it. In the far bottom-most corner of the map he brushed his fingertips past a small town by the ocean. It’d been untouched by the war, thousands of miles away from the fire and famine. He thought about what he would do next. 

[unknown-writing]

Law has heard rumors of a Celestial Dragon being on the run while he was a Seven Warlord. Tons of people were talking about it and holding a “Missing Person’s” Poster in their hands of a young girl with the full Celestial Dragon get up in it.

Seeing one be posted up in a Flee market of sorts, he saw just how depressed you really looked. Something about this seemed off to him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

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

Warning(s): Mentions of abuse, mild gore, angst, Celestial Dragons.

Word count: 777

A/N: I realized that I hadn’t of written up a Law version of This Post. So, I’m making one c’: I may or may not make a second part depending if I feel like it c’:

            At first, he thought it was just his imagination. “Why should I care about one of their kind anyways? They’re all horrible people.” He would often think. There was no way in fresh hell that he was gonna try to save you, not even if somebody made him the 5th emperor in order to save you.

While caring some heavy items with Bepo and Ikkaku back to the ship, he heard a loud commotion in the town. A fight had broken out amongst the people. He paused to take a look at who was fighting, he was taken aback to see this small woman fighting some big tough guy all by herself. She was badly hurt, cuts and open gashes all over her arms and sides, her legs were bruised as well. “She looks tough for somebody so small.” Ikkaku spoke, startling Law out of his captured trance.

You were fighting this big buff asshole because he had figured out you were a Celestial Dragon that was missing. Albeit he didn’t say it out loud as your death glare caused him to go silent. “You’re pretty tough for a small fry y/n.” He praised while swinging his arm again. You managed to doge by climbing upwards his arm and jumped down again. For somebody so small, you were nimble and quick on your feet, easily able to escape out of a tight spot in fights.

Easily slipping from the fight through the crowd, you stole a cape that covered your body. it wasn’t until you were within the same area as Law, passing beside him is when you’re body just...Collapsed. Bepo flinched at hearing the loud thud from behind him, he walked up to your limp body that twitched in pain. Despite how tough you looked, you had an extremely /low/ pain tolerance. “--Don’t even think about it. We have enough problems as it is.” Law states firmly towards his crewmate.

Bepo already held you in one hand, dangling underneath him. Your body would sway whenever he would move, and all you could do was groan at the pain you felt from that fight. Sighing, Law rubbed his face in annoyance, “God fucking....” he cursed, ignoring Ikkaku’s chuckle of amusement towards Law’s irritation. “You’re aware that this could cause us more issues, right Law? All things considering...She /is/ that “Missing Celestial Dragon.” person after all.” Law could only sigh as he finished his ordering around, “Yeah...I know. I’m aware. Which is why I’m /irritated/” He said as he watched you get placed on the gurney, still covered in bruises, cuts, gash wounds and simple scrapes.

          It didn’t take long for the screaming to start. You sobbed and thrashed around as the pain started getting too much to you, driving you insane as you kept thrashing around.......Several hours passed, and the screaming had stopped. Sighing Law stayed with you until you were fully asleep. “...For somebody that can fight....You sure have a low pain tolerance.” He muttered, sipping at his coffee, watching you so you didn’t do anything crazy or fall over.

Eventually, you woke up. You groaned in pain, sitting still hunched over. Law heard you and looked up from his work, “So. Your awake.” You looked over to see that you were on a ship in the Ocean. You saw a tall-ish man  beside you. Looking up, you blinked, “....What happened.” You asked, confused as to where you were, and what was going on.

He sighed, “You got into a fight with another Pirate. You got beat up pretty bad as well. However, when the fight was over, you collapsed. My crewmate Bepo took you in and I patched you up.” He bluntly stated while holding a “Missing Person’s” Poster up to your face. “This is you.....Isn’t it.” You see yourself in that Horrid outfit. You gulped, you’re body having flinched ready to put up another fight. Law chuckles, “Relax. I’m not handing you over.” he says then rips the poster apart letting the pieces fall on the ground.

“Right now, your on /my ship/ being taken care if /by me/. So, I’m not about to let you go so easily.” He threatens before leaving you to continue resting. You were about to speak up but, he cut you off. “Get some rest. You’re pain tolerance is stupidly low, you’ve lost a lot of energy thrashing around while I tried fixing you.” he ordered, pointing to your bandages as he leaves the room.

The door slammed shut, and you sat in silence. Falling down on the bed then flinching at a pain burst, you groaned, “Great....Now I’m a Pirate’s slave.” you weakly said before passing out.

[leah-halliwell92]

Not Much of a Slave

Summary: @xbreezymeadowsx​ requested some Lady D love. We can all agree she needs all the love. (WARNING: Mentions of rape 18+ only please.)

Brianne fidgeted with her apron for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. The lady and her daughters would be calling on her soon, she needed to be prepared for any eventuality. She knew that they could kill her in a heart beat her blood being of no use for her ladyship’s wine. She shivered as she remembered Anton’s alcohol laced breath on her face as she cried for help that never came. 

She could still see the look of betrayal on her father’s face when she arrived home. Her mother knew that the occurrence wasn’t one done willingly from taking one look at her ripped dress and reddening cheek. Her father however saw it as a slight and believed it to be staged in order for her to get out of punishment for laying with men while out of wedlock. Her mother’s gasp of outrage rang through their home at his blatant disbelief of their youngest child, your elder sister having married as soon as she was able. 

//flashback//

“She’s of no use now,” he said hatefully. 

“She was raped Jonathan!” Her mother yelled angrily, “How many a young girl has been hurt in such a way by Anton? You know more than well that he’d do such a thing when he is heavy in his drink.”

“You’d believe her sob story woman,” he said spitefully, “Don’t you see she’s playing you?”

Her mother scoffed, “Yes because one can rip their own dress in such a way and hit themselves hard enough to bruise.”

His glare did not waver and said, “She’ll be sold tomorrow to the highest bidder.”

Her mother gave a shrill cry as she slapped him hard across the face.

Brianne looked on in shock and despair as her father made his decision known. She is to be sold like an animal then. Anton would probably buy her after his actions earlier that day. And should that be the case then her death was as sure as the sky is blue.

“Have it be known Johnathan Smith,” her mother began passionately, “That on this day, for your choice to disregard your youngest child and Mother forbid sell her, you have lost your wife.”

Your father scoffed an attempted to approach your mother.

“Do not presume I’ll give in,” she said eyes hard, “You’ve already made the choice and there is nothing I can do to stop it. You’ve taken the last of my children from me and I have nothing else to give. Stay away from me John.”

She guided Brianne into her room where her mother proceeded to clean her up as best she could. 

“Let the shock run its course,” she said tenderly as she bathed you and changed you into your best clothes, “Better for it to make you hyperaware than in a complete haze.”

Brianne felt herself nod and let her mother fuss over her for the last time. 

Once dressed, she sat with you through the night neither of you feeling well enough to sleep until dawn broke. She saw her father at the breakfast table and opted to sit as far from him as their small house allowed. 

Breakfast was made for her and her mother, the latter letting father fend for himself, before they set off to the Duke’s. Her mother had said that if she couldn’t save you from being sold then she’d sell you to the one person that had the ability to set you free.

Little did the two of you know that freedom would come at a cost.

“We better make haste for–” Her mother cut Johnathan off.

“We’ll be at the Duke’s,” your mother said, “Whatever lei I get I will keep myself and use as transport, may life treat you as fairly as you treated us.”

Brianne looked at her mother eyes wide not expecting her to just make the choice to leave.

Her father remained quiet at this eyes wide as all seemed to hit him all at once, “You couldn’t...I forbid it!”

Her mother scoffed at this and said, “I remember forbidding you from doing anything rash against any of my children when we married. And yet you did, you made the choice to sell our youngest for something she had no control over.”

//time skip - 3 years//

You’d been in the care of the Duke for nearly a year when business took him to Castle Dimitrescu where her ladyship for some unknown reason took pity on you and bought you from the Duke’s service. The fat man seemed saddened by this and for the first time, possibly ever, haggled a for your price. 

“90k,” the lady had said, “And that is my final offer.”

The Duke mulled over the offer and was ready to deny the lady again when he saw you shake your head. It was a nice chunk of change you knew, you are after all just part of the business. 

//end flashback//

“Brianne!” Bela called giving the young woman a ‘playful’ shove, “Mother’s called for you.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Cassandra said poking at Brianne with the but of her dagger.

“Don’t slice at her Cassandra,” Bela said with a laugh, “You know how cheese gets everywhere.”

“I do, which is why I play with her,” Cassandra replied with a cackle, “Her blood spilled will paint the hallway oh so prettily.”

The flies swarmed about Brianne as she made haste in going to her mistress’ side. She let out a fearful scream as the flies engulfed her and carried her through the hallway the sound of triplet cackles in her ears and around her as they went. 

She yelped as she was practically dumped into the Lady Dimitrescu’s personal room. Brianne tried, and failed, to keep her wince and gasp of pain at bay as flies flew out from beneath her skin. The flies re-materialized as the three sisters, cackling as crowded her taunting her like wounded prey.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Lady Dimitrescu said loudly, standing to her full height. 

Alcina Dimitrescu looked down to find Brianne heaving on the floor.

“And why is my personal servant on the floor?” She asked cocking a brow as she glared at her daughters in displeasure. 

The sisters looked at each other in worry and curiosity. They’d always played with their mother’s toy, as they should since her blood is useless anyway they would take what they could get from her. After all, why should their mother care more for prey than her own daughters?

“She was being slow mother,” Bela said with a careless shrug.

“She is after all prey,” Daniella said backing up her sister.

“Should we not eat our prey mother?” Cassandra asked kicking Brianne’s arm as she was starting to stand.

“Enough!” Alcina said at Brianne’s pain filled gasp, “She is my personal servant. As my daughters you should know by now that while I share as it is ours to feast, when one is mine for my own use I expect that to be respected.”

The three girls cowered as their mother nailed them with a glare.

“Meaning that no one is to injure my personal pet,” she glared at them one last time before waving a dismissive hand at them, “Get out of my sight. You girls have disappointed me for the last time over my use of my pet and I’ve grown tired of it.”

The sisters glared at Brianne and Bela dared to take a swing at her in front of their mother.

Brianne cried out in pain as Bela’s hit sent her to the farthest wall.

Cassandra and Daniella dragged their sister out of the room before their mother could do anything the two in shock that their sister would go so far.

Her daughter’s gone, Alcina went to tend to their only living charge. She’d promised the Duke that the girl would remain unharmed despite her having paid a good sum of lei. Alcina has to admit that for some reason this girl pulled at her long dead heartstrings. 

She picked up Brianne tenderly being careful of where she’s been hurt. 

Brianne winced and said, “Their jealous you know.”

Alcina hummed as she ran a salve soaked cloth on her little pet’s cheek, “They will have to learn that a mother has needs.”

“They don’t understand why it is you are so caring over prey,” Brianne said honestly.

“You are not prey,” Alcina hissed, “You are mine.”

Brianne gave Alcina a tender grin and gave an experimental stretch.

“Better?” Alcina asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brianne replied automatically. 

Alcina gave a her pet a grin and bent to her level. She ran her nose over the young maid’s neck breathing in her scent and blood.

“Good girl,” she said huskily, “I want you to come to me should my daughters get out of hand again. It is not their place to use you as they please.”

Brianne nodded at this but let it slide. While she’d do her best to let Alcina know there isn’t a guarantee that the sisters would leave her walking should a repeat performance occur. 

“Good,” Alcina said, “Now we must go to the church, Mother Miranda has ordered a family meeting.” “Do you think she’ll show up to this one?” Brianne asked as she followed behind Alcina out of the castle.

“Not sure,” Alcina said and waited the appropriate time as Brianne helped her into the old car, “But for all these meetings she made clear that she’s been favoring Heisenberg lately.”

“Which is good,” Brianne said carefully. 

“I suppose so,” Alcina said with a sigh, “After all the more attention is off me the more we can plan our escape. Donna’s been itching for company and Karl has promised that he will give me a signal when the time is right.”

“And the girls?” Brianne asked carefully.

“They shall either follow their mother or perish,” Alcina said pain in her voice and perfect features, “Mother Miranda’s goals do not include any of us Pet. And it took a human maid to tell me so.”

Brianne looked down submissively only to have Alcina raise her head up.

“Do not be ashamed my pet, you have done more for me than most have no matter how long or short their stay has been,” Alcina said with a gentle grin.

Brianne gave a silent prayer of the souls of her fellow friends and former neighbors.

In the church, Brianne kept her head down as she stood besides the bench Alcina sat in. Donna and Karl were already there and she was sure that Moreau was not too far behind. 

“Good evening sisters,” Heisenberg said with a respectful nod.

Donna nodded and Alcina gave him a small grin and nod.

Before anyone could say anything Moreau walked in and not too long after Mother Miranda walked in. Brianne knelt behind Alcina’s bench keeping as low a profile as she could whilst the meeting was in session. 

The meeting was swift, almost too swift for something to held face to face but she has no place to say anything. Least of all to the woman that can kill all of them with snap of her fingers should she want it. After Miranda left and Moreau not long after, Brianne took this time to stand and get the feeling back on her legs.

“Poor human can’t seem to find her sea legs,” Angie said with a squeal-y giggle.

Brianne sighed and held onto the back of the bench as the pins and needles thankfully subsided. 

Angie kept poking and prodding cackling as she went.

“Oh is the human getting angry?” The doll asked before laughing again.

With a sigh Brianne looked to Donna and said, “I truly am sorry for this. Should my lady allow it, I’d gladly join you for tea and keep you company.”

Donna cocked her head at this confused by Brianne’s words. 

“Whatcha gonna do about...hey what are you doing?” Angie asked when she saw the look in Brianne’s face.

“Fuck you crazy ass doll!” Brianne said frustratedly as she hiked up her skirt.

She gave a grunt as she gave Angie her best kick effectively sending the unsuspecting doll to the other side fo the church much to Donna’s dismay and Heisenberg and Alcina’s delight.

“About damn time someone shut that doll up,” Heisenberg said, “I have to say Alcina your girl does have some spunk.”

“I love you Donna,” Brianne said honestly, “But Angie has been grating at my nerves for months now. And this includes the errands I’ve run for my Lady.”

Donna nodded in understanding and quietly said, “Forgiven.”

Alcina had to grin at her pet, such spunk is truly a breath of fresh air. Luckily her human knew when to push and whom to push. 

Brianne heard the sound of heavy boots and knew Heisenberg was close.

Brianne turned to face him and though he is a handsome man, her interests lay else where as she is certain he can see from the fading bite marks on her neck.

“Must be nice to have a warm body to feast from Alcina,” Karl said teasingly.

Alcina was going to say something when Brianne said, “Better warm body than a cold shower...that is if you know what that even is.”

Alcina and Donna laughed at the dig.

Heisenberg reddened under the beard before chuckling, “Well played buttercup.”

“You my dear have earned yourself a treat when we return home,” Alcina said standing bidding Donna farewell and a “glare” at Heisenberg, “What do you say to a present tonight?”

Brianne’s face brightened at this causing Heisenberg to scoff but grin before nodding at them and leaving to his own home.

“Yes ma’am,” she said teasingly.

Alcina grinned at her, “Good girl.”

[pieces-by-me]

Strangers on the Road

Gif by the lovely @honestsycrets​ 

Words: 2605

Summary: Goodness can be found everywhere. Even for a stranger on a strange road.

Warnings: mentions of ablism

Kinda feel like this is not that good and lost inspiration at the end but I didn’t want to just delete the whole thing. Would love to hear what you all think of this✨

The Silk Road was a lot of things but never boring. People would meet from west to east to bargain about jewels, exotic foods, animals, slaves and as the name says silk. Anything you could ever need you could find on the Silk Road.

There was a market place. Close to the border where sand meets snow. It was colder here. The sun not having enough warmth to burn you, but still keep you a bit warmer. The market was not the biggest but the last one you would find for miles before the terrain changes from rocky mountaintops to frost covered grounds. Hundreds of people scuffled about to find the best goods. Different prices were being called around the area by the handlers to make the travelers come to their small stalls and seats. Many big men would shout at the top of their lungs. Some women would walk about and thrust their fabric in peoples faces. Anything to make yourself and your worth known.

One small stand, it was so tiny you might not even call it that, was at the end of the market. At first sight one couldn't even see what was presented for trade or purchase. But the closer you came the more you saw. Small clay pots with lids on them, little bowls with salves and a basket filled with weirdly looking dried leafs. Medicine.

The young women behind her small stall made herself useful by cleaning small crumbs of dirt from her pots. Smiling at buyers that walked by and greeting the once that came to her.

Y/N may not have a lot of supply but the demand was high. So the little she had she could sell for more then some other merchants. With made her life a little easier. But even if she sold everything each day she would still scrape at the ends of her revenues. It's only enough for her to live each day. Which was fine. She didn't have anyone she needed to support. Her parents died when she was young and she never had any siblings. So anything she made was for herself.

It wasn't easy at the beginning. Having to collect plants in a mountains was not an easy task. Walking miles upon miles into the nearest forrest for maybe an hour just to run back as soon as the sun went down. It would be a death sentence to walk on the Silk Road at night as a little girl. And Y/N had to start make a living for herself at a young age. But she managed. The knowledge she inherited from her mother helped her a lot. As soon as she found the little round leafs buried under the snow she knew she could survive.

They weren't just normal weeds. If you cooked them they would make a tea that would help with the biggest pains. If you chewed them raw you could help your teeth stay strong. And when you stomp them together with with goat fat and a specific snake venom it would help heal wounds in half the time. That was her biggest seller. It was hard to come by. Having to milk her snakes herself and trading things for goat fat took time. Every time she made it it would sell out in seconds and it would be worth it.

Today was like every other day. Waking up. Skipping breakfast to open the stall. Standing your feet into the ground for the day. Closing up. Making preparations and tinctures for the next day. Sleep.

Y/N knew nothing else so she was happy with it. Every day she would stand between Bran the forger, the nice guy that couldn't really stand anymore due to an old injury he obtained in a fight, and Lorah the jewel seller, a hardheaded women with to many opinions and a need to gossip. It was noisy between the constant banging on metal and women's chattering about the best new stones or quality of an arm ring. But it was her little place and she couldn't imagine standing somewhere else on the market.

The sun stood high in the sky when, for the first time in years, something changed. A lot of different people would travel the Silk Road to trade and buy. Different people from different places of the world praising different gods and coming around with the weirdest foods. But never in all her years had Y/N seen a cripple being carted through the market.

He was not hard to spot. The wagon he was sitting in was a big telltale. There weren't a lot of people with carts like that. The next thing she spotted were his legs. Two legs in metal braces. They looked old and rusted, as if they were about to fall apart. And then, the last sign of the stranger were his eyes. Y/N only caught them for a second but the shade of blue that pierced though hers was something she had never seen before. They were clearer then Lorah's jewels. Bluer then the sky. She could have looked into them for the whole day and never would tire.

“What in all the lords name is that?”

The disgusted voice of Lorah snapped the young woman out of her staring. She looked at the cripple with so much hate it seems he had killed her first born child.

“What do you mean? He's just traveling through here.”

Bran voiced his thoughts.

“I can see that you old fool. The question is why is it even here in the first place. It should not be here.”

“He's not a thing. He's human just like you.”

Y/N small voice grew colder then what it usually was when she talked to the women. She didn't like the tone and words her stall neighbor used for the stranger.

“Y/N dear you're young and naive. Human puh. No we are humans, you and me. Bran even. But the likes of...him should have died right after the birth. See the legs. They're crippled and wrong. We used to bring them outside to die when children like it were born. It's not natural. It's evil and bad and must be banished from the world.”

Y/N was shocked. She knew that Lorah was opinionated on a lot of things and that she would stand for her word. But this? How could she decide that this men should have died when he was a babe? What kind of monster could decide who lives and dies just by the way they were born?

“How can you truly think that? Your jewels might be beautiful but your heart is ugly Lorah.”

“I'm not the only one with that knowledge little witch. You'll see. That creature will not get anything from the people here on this market.”

Witch. Lorah knew that Y/N was called that behind her back and that she didn't like it. But she was rather a witch then heartless. She turned around to face the evil women once more but was met with nothing. Lorah must have stormed away in believe of having the last sentence and won the argument. Pathetic.

“Let her be Y/N. She sometimes seems as evil but she has truth to her words. The poor man won't find anyone to trade with him. He looks like he will travel farther east and probably die in the cold. Crippled people don't make it far in life. It's a wonder he made it this far. God must've be kind to him.”

“There are a lot of people here who will trade with anyone. They need the money and don't care if he's a cripple or not. And screw your God Bran. Your God would want me to burn alive for simply knowing some herbs.”

The clanging from bended metal was the only answer she'd get from the smith. Maybe she shouldn't have insulted his believe. Whats done is done.

Movement from the stranger caught her eyes again. He was making his way out of the cart with the help from a crutch. Also looking as if it would fall apart. Something was off about him though. His motions looked ragged. Tugging, almost as if his muscles would give out. She looked at him and again her eyes met his. This time she could see that not only the color of his eyes were blue but also the whites around them. Pain.

She knew what blue whites meant. In her live she met some men that came back from battle with light blue colored eyes. And they always proclaimed to be in the worst kind of pain they've ever felt. Him walking around with his crutch you wouldn't see that he felt pain with every step he took. It could simply be hard to walk on this ground. But she knew. And her heartstrings pulled tighter at the picture of this man struggling to only get food or whatever it is he needs.

Y/N hadn't realized how close the stranger has come. He was close enough to see the goods that were sprawled out on her little table and for her to see that there was a silver of a necklace peaking through his tunic. It looked like a hammer and she recognized it immediately. Nothing interested him though for he just walked by her without a glance. But she couldn't let that stand. Back in her head she searched for the old language her father tried to teach her. It was hard but she managed. She turned to him and with little confidence she called.

“Stranger”

That made him halt in his step. Turning around he met her eyes. This time on purpose. His eyes were filled with a sort of anger and he answered to fast with too many words for her to understand.

“Please, talk slower”

“How do you know my language?” It came out more of an demand then a question.

“My father thought me.”

“But why did he teach you Norse. You don't look like a Viking.”

Her answer came after a short minute but with a small smile on her face.

“I'm not Viking. But my father was friends with some. Back when he was alive.”

That made the stranger pause again. He was considered what she told him. You could see it.

“What is your name?” This time it was a question.

“Y/N and yours?”

He hesitated. Should he tell this woman who he was? Could it come back and bite him in the ass if he told the truth?

“You don't have to tell me. It's not of my buisn..”

“Ivar”

His interruption made her to stumble over her words but after she heard that he told her his name her small smile grew larger. Ivar had to say she had a nice smile. And she was the first one to start a conversation with him and not the other way around.

“Well Ivar, is there something you might need that I can help you with?”

“No, I'm looking for food and you only sell weird looking porridge.”

Her smile didn't falter. “Well I don't have food but you can buy something six stalls to your right. Bella sells the best and cheapest dates on the whole road. Also if you say that I send you she will probably give you more for your money. But here please take this”

With the last words she turned around, ducked behind her stall and when she came up again she held a small brown pouch filled with dried leafs inside a yellow cup.

Ivar looked at her with skepticism. Why would this weird, yet beautiful, women talk to him and then also help him?

“I don't have enough gold to pay for...whatever that is. And why would you help me with food when you would gain nothing in return?”

“I don't want your gold. I just want to help. I see the way your eyes are blue and I know that you are in pain. So why wouldn't I help you when I can? Also Bella owns me one for making medicine for her son so it's nothing really”

Y/N held the pouch still in her hands but with the missing answer form Ivar her smile fell just a little. But she wouldn't take no, or the lack of one, as an answer. So with a little smirk that looked more mischievous than the smile she held before she threw the little bag to the side of him that didn't hold him up on his crutch.

With a startled look, as if he was expecting a knife, he caught the bag. The stare he threw back at her made her laugh so hard even on Bran's face grew on. He observed the weird interaction between the two even though he couldn't understand a word they'd said. He hand't seen Y/N laugh and smile for a long time.

“Well now it's yours and I don't take returns” Her voice matched her smile and after a moment to overcome his initial shock Ivar smiled back. And Y/N swore her heart skipped a beat.

“Fine... then as it seems that I am stuck with this..would you explain to me what I have to do with it?” His smile was a little dimmed but still on his face.

“You'd have to boil the leafs for a while and then drink it slowly. Little sips. And no more then one cup.” She gave him the cup too and he hid both of her gift somewhere in his robe.

They held eye contact. Knowing that their interaction would be over soon. Him still plagued with hunger and her with the need to sell more of her goods, now that she gifted some away. But neither wanting to let the other go. Y/N was the first person since he fled Kattegat that was actually nice to him. She treated him like a person and not ogled at him like the freak he was. Well as the freak he saw in himself.

And Ivar was the first men that made her laugh and made her truly feel happy for a little while. She could forget the struggle of having to be alone in this world. She would miss him. Even though they only knew each other for an hour she would truly miss this stranger with the blue eyes.

And what she didn't know was that Ivar would miss and think of her for the rest of his journey. He would see her act of kindness a far greater thing then just a small favor. And her laugh would bring him warmth when he went into the snow filled forests.

“Thank you” His small voice was filled with honesty.

“You are more then welcome. I wish you all the luck and that your gods help you on your journey”

He hadn't expected to hear that but it brought him a little bit of hope. If the gods made him meet her he was on the right path.

He only bowed his head a little, a sheepish smirk on his face, and made his way away from her and to the mentioned stall from Bella. Dates sounded magnificent right now.

Ivar vanished in the masses of people but her smile stayed on her face.

“Well someone is a little smitten”

“Ah shut up Bran” 

Her insult was met with laughter from the old forger.

__________

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

[kiwi-muses]

Kanej WIP

I’m not entirely sure if I’m going to go anywhere with this but I’ve been enjoying working on this little fic in my downtime. 

-----

It had been a few days since the fight, and Inej could tell the wound was getting worse. It was entirely her fault, for neglecting it, but in her defense, others had more serious wounds that needed attending to. Or, so she had thought. Now, she was beginning to think her wound was more serious than it initially led her to believe.

The slash was across her waist, long but not deep. She had done a quick wrap, but had forgotten to seek attention from an actual medik after she saw to the children from the slave ship. The next evening, she began to see flickers - someone walking by her just out of sight, but when she turned, no one was there. It made her uneasy. The next day, the visions got worse and Inej felt warm. Inej knew something wasn’t right when she was seeing Matthias - he was dead, and he couldn’t possibly be on her ship but there he was, right across from her in her cabin, talking to her.

They were two days from Kerch when the visions became nightmares and began to haunt her. She thought she could make it. She thought wrong.

Kaz was going about his day to day business - balancing the books, breaking some noses, and the like - when a man he had never seen literally ran into The Crow Club. It wasn’t often someone ran into the building (though people often ran out of it) and it had Kaz raising an eyebrow. The man looked around wildly, and when he caught Kaz’s eye, he made a beeline straight for him. Kaz straightened as the man came to stand in front of him. “What business?” he asked, using the customary Kerch greeting despite this man not looking as though he was from Kerch.

“I need you to come with me,” said the man. He was tall, with dark hair and dark skin, much like Inej, and had that same lilt to his voice as she did. Kaz supposed he must be Suli. He was broad shouldered with strong arms, but not too tall. Kaz could tell he was nervous, constantly twitching like he needed to be in motion.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Not likely,” he remarked dryly.

“Please,” he said, “I need you to come to our ship. The Captain said if anything went wrong we were to come and find you.” Kaz furrowed his brows. There was only one captain of one ship on his radar, and certainly only one that might have any measure of trust to send someone to him.

Maybe it’s someone different. Maybe she sent another ship your way. “What exactly did your Captain say? Why didn’t the Captain come to me personally?”

“The Captain said if something went wrong, we needed to find Kaz Brekker - he’d be in a suit with a crow head cane, with eyes the color of bitter coffee. The Captain didn’t come because… the Captain is the problem, sir.” Kaz was beginning to get a bad feeling in his gut. The man looked around, leaned in a little closer, and said in a whisper, “There’s something wrong, and we had to contain the Captain. There was no other way, and we don’t know what to do.” Kaz very nearly growled as his eyes narrowed, and the man backed away from him. He felt that white hot fury prickle in his chest at the thought of Inej being contained, of being caged.

“Leave here, and I will come as soon as I am able.” The man clearly wanted to argue, but self preservation won out as he looked into Kaz’s shark eyes, and he departed as quickly as he had come. Kaz called for one of his new runners, an orphan Inej had saved that had nowhere else to go. “Go to the Van Eck mansion, and tell them to meet me at Berth 22.” The runner nodded, and quickly ran off. Kaz waited a few minutes, the picture of calm, before he got his coat and headed to Fifth Harbor, his mind racing with the possibilities.

Kaz wasn’t used to this panic, this unsurity. He never went into a situation without all of the information, every bit of gossip he could find. Granted, that had been harder since his Wraith had left him and the Dregs a year ago, but Dirtyhands never let that stop him. There wasn’t much that could bring his Wraith down, and the fact that something brought her down enough that she could be considered a danger to her own crew made a chill run down his spine. She loved her ship, she loved her crew. He remembered the day she set sail. It had been a month after her parents had arrived in Ketterdam, and she and Specht had spent the month gathering a crew. He hadn’t seen her much as a result, but Inej had come to see him the night before she set sail for the first time. He’d been at his desk and he felt that familiar shift in the air. Without turning around, he had said, “What business?” There had been a moment of silence, and then a quiet, “I set sail tomorrow.” He had turned around then. She’s been on his windowsill, the light of the moon dancing across her hair, and he’d had another moment where he believed in magic. “What’s your plan?” he rasped.

She settled in on the windowsill. “We’ll spend a month at sea, learning to operate as a crew. Then we’ll head to the Ravkan coast - the caravans will be traveling through, so we can drop off my parents and start hunting the slavers.”

Kaz smirked. “Efficient.” A smile flickered across Inej’s face.

“I know you don’t do goodbyes, so I figured I wouldn’t see you at the docks tomorrow. But I wanted to thank you, even though I still haven’t found the words for what you have done for me.” Her gaze was steady, and it made him feel warm.

“This city owes you for what it did to you,” he remarked. “I just made it pay up.” Inej looked at him, and he felt as though she saw right through him.

“You did this, not the city, and I will not forget that. I am not done here, Kaz Brekker.” She slid off the windowsill and made her way towards him, and his heart began to pound inside his chest. She stopped next to him, and he looked up at her as she knelt down to his side until she was eye level with him. “I am not done with you, Kaz.” His heart was galloping inside his chest as her eyes bore into his, and then she was leaning towards him. As gentle as a breeze, she pressed her lips to his cheek, and his heart felt as though it stuttered and died. She pulled away, and his body had no chance to roil in disgust at the contact of her skin, just revel in the softness of her. He brought his gloved fingertips to her cheek as she gave him a gentle smile, and then she left the way she had come, silent as the night.

Kaz reached back to that evening when the days were hard, when he needed to remember her. As he walked to Fifth Harbour, he felt that flint in his chest getting ready to strike, ready to ignite that white hot fire, if Inej was anything but perfectly well.

----

Inej knew her crew had put her in the brig. Truthfully, she couldn’t blame them after she had thrown a knife and almost hit Maji, a young boy that had joined their crew. She had been aiming for someone else… but they weren’t real, and the knife had been, and lodged itself in the very real wood of the ship. After that, Inej surrendered her knives even though it ripped something apart in her. However, it was often forgotten that the Wraith didn’t need knives to be dangerous. After she attacked the crew member who tried to look at her wound, she was tossed in the brig for their protection.

“You set sail to help the frightened girls like you,” a familiar gravely voice said. “It seems to me you just managed to frighten them in a different sort of way.” Kaz’s voice, that had been a balm to her, was a mockery. He’s not there, he’s not real. But Saints, he sounded like he was right next to her. She peeked at him past the curtain of her hair; it had long fallen from it’s braid in her struggles against the imaginary. He was standing just outside the bars.

“I knew when I gave you this ship it would be a waste.” He clicked his tongue. “I figured you’d last a touch longer though; afterall, you were the Wraith.” The past tense, the mockery - it became too much and she lunged forward, grasping the bars. Kaz didn’t flinch.

“I am still the Wraith. This doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change that I am the deadliest knife wielder in Ketterdam.” Kaz stared her down.

“It seems to me you’re just a prisoner, someone meant to be caged, whether by silks, or knives and crows, or bars. Stop trying to be something you’re not Inej.”

She could feel the tears running down her face as she pushed away from the bars, and turned her back to him. Having the voice she trusted most give volume to her fear was too much, and her heart couldn’t take it after the last two days. The first time Kaz showed up, she’d thought she had just slept through the rest of the voyage and somehow made it to Ketterdam. Her heart had stuttered seeing his familiar face. He could help her - he would figure out why she had seen Matthias, why she had seen others long dead. Kaz had looked her in the eye, and said, “Little Lynx, caged yet again. That certainly didn’t take long.” She had backed away, her breath catching in her throat at the sound of the name in the tenor of his voice.

“You don’t call me that,” she had whispered.

Kaz had laughed. “Why not? Just because I didn’t use your body doesn’t mean I didn’t use you just the same. You were a means to an end Wraith. I have my regrets about giving you up, that’s for certain.” Every word had suffocated her more and more, her eyes clenching shut and she tried to make sense of what he was saying. But when she opened her eyes, he was gone, and Specht was standing in his place.

“Where’s Kaz?” she had asked. Specht furrowed his brow. “I just saw him.”  

“Captain, he’s not here. We haven’t even made port in Ketterdam yet; we’re at least a day and a half out.” Specht was concerned, she could see, but she was too busy trying to make it all make sense. If they hadn’t made it to port, it couldn’t have been Kaz there. But who was it?

That had been at the beginning. By now, Kaz had returned to taunt her, giving voice to every insecurity, every question she had ever asked herself.

“Did you think you were going to be able to undo all the terrible things you did?”

“You know, you’ll never escape your past. Once a little lynx, always a little lynx. How long until a slaver ship sinks you and takes you back? I bet you’d make a great prize.”

“I’m the king of the barrel - I’m not sure how you could ever think I’d want someone like you. I could have anyone, for any reason I choose.”

It was a special kind of torture, for Kaz to be her tormentor. Matthias had remarked that he’d thought she’d been good deep down inside, but she’d turned out as horrible as the worst of them. And it had hurt, but from Kaz it was like having her own knives turned on her. She wasn’t sure how long she could stand this slow torture, this persistent torment. She prayed for her Saints to grant her oblivion.

[padawanlost]

People often talk about Anakins failings as a Jedi, so how about somethings he was better than them at. Was there ever things (non-Jedi things) that people appreciated him for? Did his loyalty and emotion ever help someone, or make them feel better? Just, some ways in which Anakin being a bad Jedi, ended up making things better.

You asked me there’s any non-jedi trait Anakin excelled at I’d argue Anakin excelled at the most Jedi trait of all: compassion. Unlike the great Jedi masters of his time, who talked a big game about compassion, Anakin actually cared about the people he met and tried his best to connect and help them. But I’m not going to say much about this, I’ll just show you the receipts.

When Anakin and Obi-wan find a captive woman who has been physically abuse, this is what happens:

He was polite:

Anakin was looking relieved. “Water would be greatly appreciated, thank you. Food, too, but I’ll wait for Obi-Wan to come back before I eat.” She crossed to the small kitchen table, put down the precious holoprojector, then nodded at the commercial-sized conservator her keepers had so kindly given her. “It’s entirely up to you. The water’s in there. Help yourself to as much as you like.” He drank three full bottles, hardly taking a breath. Noticing her surprise, he shrugged. “Sorry. My manners aren’t usually that bad. It’s just—it’s been a long, hard day.” “I can tell,” she said, disposing of the emptied bottles down her makeshift kitchen’s waste chute. “You should sit down. If you don’t mind me saying so, you look tired.” He considered his filthy clothes. “Are you sure? I don’t want to dirty the furniture.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was supportive and unfailingly kind:

“Oh. That’s right.” There was still dried blood on her fingers, and a dull, throbbing pain in her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.”

He caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He helped her with her wounds:

“Don’t apologize,” [Anakin] said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”

“In the refresher.” She pointed. “Through there. Top shelf above the sink. But please, don’t bother. It’s nothing. I can—”

Standing, he frowned down at her. “It’s not nothing. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Even if she’d wanted to, she didn’t think she could move. Hope had vanished, leaving despair in its wake. Leaving her empty of everything save pain. Her eyes felt scrubbed raw. “Right,” said Anakin, returning with the medkit. “Here we go. And I’ll say sorry in advance, because I’m probably going to hurt you.”

Again, that extraordinary sense of being small, a child, as he carefully wiped the blood and tears from her face, cleaned the bruised, throbbing cut on her forehead with antiseptic, and lightly pressed a steriseal over it. “You’re very good at this,” she murmured. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was gentle:

Taking them, she looked up at him and shook her head, even though it still ached. “It’s odd. You’re nothing like I expected.”

“Why?” he said, perching on the edge of the nearby chair. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” That made him smile. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

She sat down again. “I understand. This is war. You have to look at the big picture. You can’t afford to see the little people.” Scurrying like rodents. Sacrificed for the greater good.

“That’s not true!” Anakin protested. “That’s what the big picture is. Lots and lots and lots of little people. You matter, Bant’ena. The friends you lost on Taratos Four, they matter. We’re fighting this war so no more like them will die.”

He was very sweet. Very young. Full of grand ideals and breathtaking, intuitive compassion. She looked at Master Kenobi. Now, there was a pragmatist, a man possessed of a scientist’s soul. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

When Anakin runs into a planet where the population has been enslaved:

As for the native Lanteebans, they were easy to pick out. Hunched and nervous, skittishly aware of their armed supervisors, they were the ones lasering and sweeping and riveting and hammering and sweating to upgrade the spaceport to their new masters’ specifications. They wore nothing but overalls and sandals. No protective eye goggles. No steel-capped boots. No sensor-harnesses to protect them from a fall. The indifference to their safety was breathtaking … and at the same time, unsurprising. Their fearful misery muddied the atmosphere. Beside him, Anakin muttered something. Not in Basic. His outrage was palpable, a red shimmer in the Force. Oh no. Not now.

“Anakin …”

“Look at them!” Anakin retorted, low-voiced. “They’ve been turned into slaves!”

“I know. It’s irrelevant. Focus on why we’re here.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

He was generous even with his dreams:

When the war was over he’d go back to Tatooine and see. When the war was over he’d buy any child he found enslaved to Watto and find them a home where they might live and love in safety. Belonging to no one but themselves. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

When Anakin runs into a group of poor kids playing in the street:

“Just like Mos Espa’s slave quarter,” Anakin said under his breath. “Everybody knows everybody else and nothing much stays secret.” Obi-Wan nudged him with an elbow. Not now. They’d accumulated a gaggle of children, who seemingly had nothing better to do than tag along in the newcomers’ wake, giggling and whispering and kicking a soggily inflated synthafibe ball.

[…]Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.”

[…]“But—” Gathering his thoughts, disciplining himself, he watched Anakin scoop up one small excited boy, too young to kick the ball, and zoom him overhead like a fighter chasing a vulture droid. The boy nearly sickened himself with laughing. “Greti, are you saying—”

[…]“So that was merely a cynical exercise in the manipulation of a local populace?”

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”

May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—”

Anakin’s amusement vanished. “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege]

And this is just a few examples from ONE book series. The EU (TCW and the movies) are filled with moments of Anakin caring deeply for people he barely knows (TPM, anyone?) as the Jedi stand back and chastise him for caring too much. It’s so unfair that people forget that Anakin wasn’t always cruel and selfish. They forget that for a long time Anakin was of the few Jedi who actually acted on the compassion all Jedi were supposed to possess.

Anakin Skywalker didn’t become a heroic figure during the war only because he was a good fighter. He was a good person too. A person who cared about people as individuals. And the sad part is that people forget this compassion and caring attitude wasn’t learn from the Jedi, it was learned from Shmi Skywalker. A person that also acted on her words about being kind and generous:

“Helping others isn’t always easy, is it? If people paid us to be good, the galaxy would be overflowing with kindness. But most of the time there isn’t much reward, and sometimes it even costs us dearly to do good things. Yeah. What if it costs so much that it hurts? I think we should do it anyway. Make it a habit, like eating or breathing. Once you do, you’ll hardly even notice the cost.” Star Wars Episode I Adventures: The Ghostling Children by Dave Wolverton

Anakin and Shmi’s generosity, kindness and compassion was real and truly heroic and, imo, it’s the most important trait a Jedi should possess. Ahat’s why I think Anakin had everything he needed to be a great Jedi. He had everything else too: kindness, compassion, fighting skills, etc.  the only ‘trait’ he lacked was the acceptance and support of his superiors.

[aliypop]

When The Sun Rises

Word count : 1.434

Warning: Angst 

A/N : This is a story about Tiffany and a bit of her backstory I hope you guys enjoy!

The cave was silent as the boys were in their nest sleep waiting for nightfall. Tiffany, who had been keeping Star and Laddie company, sat on the floor as they played dinosaurs together. "You know I remember when I was a kid I used to play with this baby doll, and I took it everywhere..." Star said, breaking up the silence between the three, "Of course that was 1971." the young girl giggled, her dark curls moving with every laugh she made. "Do you remember being a kid?" Laddie asked, looking up at the full-blooded vampire that was Tiffany. "I don't think you want to hear this 222-year-old drag on about her years as a kid..." she laughed, as she then noticed two sets of puppy dog eyes staring her down. 

"Alright, Alright, I'll tell you. Now cuddle in close," Tiffany said, her arms outstretched for the two to lay in them.  "I'm going to warn you, though..." she looked between the two of them, "It's not a story for the faint of heart." She kissed Star on the nose and Laddie on the forehead. 

"We don't care, right, Laddie!"

"Right!"

"Well, I was born in New York in 1771 to an enslaved woman named Isabella." She opened her locket, which held a picture of her mother. Both Laddie and Star looked at the picture, amazed by the older woman's beauty. "Was she a vampire too..." 

"You'll just have to find out and see." she laughed, "You see, my story starts in Louisiana 1776." 

"Like the revolutionary war?" Laddie asked.

"Precisely ."

Tucked away in the French quarters was a Plantation house of ivory white fixtures and magnolia trees lining the entrance to the door. Standing there was a  girl dressed in the rags of a slave who stood behind a tall man who seemed dressed as a general. "Tu es en sécurité ici.." he said gesturing for her to walk in. Surrounding here were vampires of high society of all backgrounds draped in rubies, emerald, and even sequence. Red velvet drapes pooled at her feet as there was furniture surrounding her, cups of porcelain, and pots of silver with cups of fine "wine" poured in them. 

"Mon garçon tu m'as retourné aussitôt." said a woman, her golden curls pinned in a high roll as a blue feather plume stuck out from it, she was elegant, and she was beautiful, 

She was " Countess Elizabeth Liru, ma fille.." she extended her pale hand to the young girl. Watching her flench at the gesture, Elizabeth could sense her pain already, a wounded bird not yet ready to fly.  " I'll not harm you a bit," she said, "Nay, will they..." gesturing towards the others that were gathering around. The younger girl only nodded as she slowly peaked from behind the man's legs. 

 " Ma fille, what do they call you..." her piercing blue eyes focused on the small brown ones looking back at her. The young girl's voice was hoarse from the endless nights of screaming and the pain from being passed down from person to person. 

"Tiffany, Ma'am ..."

"Haven't you a last name..." 

"No, ma'am..." she looked down at her dirtied-up feet. 

"She looks like a Monroe..." a young girl around her age said, golden curls held back by a bow. 

Tiffany smiled as she held onto a pearl earring that she always kept with her. Star took notice wanting to get a closer look at it. "So they picked your last name?" Laddie asked, shifting around on the floor. Tiffany gave him a nod, "They practically picked out my life." she sighed as Star looked down at him, "It must have been lavish, huh..."  Tiffany only laughed, "There was, but there was also the plague and smallpox, and dysentery."  she smirked, "Really gross stuff!" she laughed, " But I remember the good, like my first gown, it was pink and silk with..." 

"Lace! countess lace is the returning rage all the women  of the court are wearing it!" Fatima said, sticking pins into the dress. Fatima had been a seamstress since the beginning of time and enjoyed what she did. Tiffany stood there giggling as she watched Elizabeth and Fatima argue about her dress.

 " C'est de la merde putain!" Elizabeth growled. 

"Ta mère était une pute !" Fatima rolled her eyes, continuing her creation, "I have you know I've dressed queens and kings!" as the months past Tiffany adjusted into the high society of vampires, from learning to play harpsichord to even hunting. 

Sitting in front of her was a young woman who seemed to be of the age for maternal instinct. Tiffany sat next to the young lady as she began to cry. Although she wasn't a vampire yet, Elizabeth felt it was only correct that she'd know how to feed beforehand.  

"Could you help, madame?" she asked, tears streaming down her face. 

"What's wrong petite fille..." 

"I'm lost... " Tiffany grabbed the young woman's hand, ushering her towards the alley, "I think my mama is right..." she watched as Elizabeth covered the victim's eyes, "Here..."  Tiffany watched as Elizabeth sunk her teeth into the woman's neck as life left her eyes and was soon stuffed into the carriage to feed the others. 

"So you weren't a vampire yet?" Star questioned. 

"Wasn't turned until I was 20 by my first love..." she swooned.

"Who was he... was he like David or Dwayne!" Laddie asked, getting excited. 

"She was the one that named me Monroe... and she was much like Star, free-spirited and kind caring, but my did we get into trouble... " she caressed Star's arm. " 1787 I was 16, and she was my companion... We attended our first ball together."

Draped in the purest of silk stood Charlotte and Tiffany eyeing down eligible bachelors. Golden curly hair resting on the shoulder of brown skin sending butterflies down to her stomach. " Je m'ennuie Tiffany ..." Charlotte pouted as Tiffany quirked her head up, 

"As am I... perhaps we'll illumine la ville, what do you think?" taking the young girl's hands in her own. 

" You're as bright as the stars in a clear sky." 

The nights in New Orleans were just about as beautiful in the day, but none compared to the beauty of 

"Charlotte, do you ever want to be a vampire..."  Tiffany asked, placing roses in her hair, 

"If it means you'll be my amant et compagnon."  she kissed her cheek, "Then who am I to destroy what the fates want, my beloved." she placed her hand on Tiffany's face. Her pearl's glowed in the night sky as the two stayed in a lover's embrace. They had been inseparable since they first locked eyes, but soon they'd become one.  

Tiffany paused in her story as Laddie snored, carrying him to her nest for him to sleep. She heard the faint sound of Star wanting to ask a question,

 "Did it hurt when you turned..." 

"Oh mon Cherie that is another story for an-"

"Did it hurt when she left you..." 

Tiffany stood still as she could feel the moment her body went cold, the moment that she received her dark gift. And the moment that she and her mother were the only two now left in the coven.

 Even then, she had left her alone in the gracious plantation house with nothing but scattered coffins. The year was 1791, and she was lonely, barely out in society as if she were mourning the loss of everyone around her. Tiffany was alone and afraid until she heard a knock at the door.  Dressed in black was Tiffany, who was the lady of the house. As she opened the door, there stood a beautiful servant woman who handed her an invitation to a ball, 

Something that she hadn't been a part of in years. Dressing in Elizabeth's old fineries and creating them into something of the century.  Tiffany felt reinvented as a creature of the night. When she walked into the ballroom, all eyes were on her,

 But the oddity of a Creole beauty such as herself waltzing in the manor as if she owned it. Whisperers and conversations were running in her head as she saw the gossipers of society and the wrongdoers, though her life changed when she heard a faint voice behind her say. "Accorde-moi une nuit de plaisir pour ta beauté?"

"Tu flirtes comme un serpent..." Tiffany turned to see golden hair and ocean blue eyes staring down at her.

"And then what happened..." Star asked.

"That's a story for another time."

[chronicparagon]

One Piece AU: Harmony the Wing Less

Warning: This AU has content that may be disturbing to some readers. Triggers include blood, death, child death, child slavery, and torture. 

Art by Rina-Ran

(Note: I know this is art of FF7 Harmony but I felt can be applied for this AU too)

Harmony Halcyon

Tribe: Shandian

Occupation: Mercenary (but also works as a barmaid when jobs are slow), formerly a crew member of the Sea Warriors

Age: 19 years (before time skip) 21 years (after time skip)

Backstory

Harmony’s life began with the Shandia tribe. Though the war existed through most of Harmony’s life, she would be among the people who had no part in the fight, but suffered the consequences. Her name was given by her parents who wished for peace but they did not know that it may never come for them. Things became worse when a stranger called Enel came to the land and proclaimed that he was their god. Enel’s domination aggravated the constant war with the Skypians and it would worsen from there. Many people of Skypiea became slaves shortly after with women chosen as his servants. 

As Harmony was becoming a teenager, her parents feared she would be next. They couldn’t bear the thought and joined those where were brave enough, yet foolish enough to stand against Enel and his soldiers. If only they knew then that choice would end in failure and seal their fate. 

These defectors and their families became prisoners, tortured for the twisted amusement. To make matters worse, Harmony’s parents were forced to watch their own child be used as part of their punishment. Harmony was only thirteen. Thirteen years old when men pinned her down, stripped from the waist up. How they laughed as they wielded torches and knives, standing by until their master gave them the signal. 

 Harmony’s screams fill they air as blood splatter the ground along with her feathers drifting down, turning from white to red. Pain seared into her bones as it tears her wings off her back. Cutting, tearing, ripping, and burning into her back. Harmony tried to fight back, only to earn severe burns on her right arm. Her parents begged them to stop. Her mother wept and her father screamed for their child to be spared. Their pleas fell on deaf ears. They pulled on the shackles, desperately reaching for their daughter. 

“STOP THIS! STOP! DON’T DO THIS TO MY GIRL!” 

“MY BABY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY!” 

Blood chilling laughter masked the heartbreak. 

Once all that was said and done, the girl was left shaking, tears streaming down her face as she laid in her own blood and feathers. It was then that Enel decided that her parents have seen enough and ordered their execution on the spot. The last thing Harmony’s parents saw was their own child crawling toward them, wanting to save them. But she could not get to them on time. There was nothing she could do. Such a pitiful sight. 

The young girl begged for their lives as well as the other defectors who knew they were mere moments away from their own demise. 

So, so pitiful. 

A child’s cries mean nothing to a god who lusts for blood and power.

So, so sad...

On this day, the Shandians learned that their own was sentenced to death and their bloody wings posted as a warning, a sign that any rebellion would be met with their last moments filled with terror. A warning to not disobey their new god. 

Many of the Shandians escaped and sought refuge in a village where Enel could not find them shortly after. It was best to find safety and face the new tyranny on top of this bitter war against the Skypians. The defectors were nothing more than traitors. It was best to leave them for dead than risk their own families.

As for what happened to Harmony? She was not the only child who lost her family because they stood against Enel. There were several others. The boys who did not die right away from the torture were killed off. Best to eliminate any possible adversaries. Better to be safe than sorry. Only the girls were spared as they could be useful as they reach adulthood. Yet the treatment they received was not much better. Most of the girls passed away from their injuries. Several more succumb to infection caused by their own wounds. All of them cast aside like the adult defectors, forever forgotten by enemies and their own kin. Harmony was deemed unattractive by her burns. “Damaged goods” as what her captors said, but may have some use as they learned she survived. 

Despite everything, Harmony refused to die. She couldn’t surrender. That is never an option. That’s just how she was raised by Shandian warriors. She beat the odds set upon her, fighting with all her strength, just to survive another day. But she knew she may die if she stayed under Enel’s rule. Her time was running out when he or his minions could demand more from her. The girl can’t bear the thought of what may happen from the horrors she witnessed here. Though it was dangerous, the teen knew she must escape. It is better to risk it for freedom than die as a slave. 

 One night, Harmony decided to act on a plan she concocted. She managed to slip away, hoping to make it out to Angel Island. Sadly, there was a snag that alerted security and there was hell to pay. At that point, all that mattered was her attempt was an offense. She was lucky to be alive and serve, but she threw it away by trying to run away. Death was the only solution to this. Enel’s gift in attacking others with lightning broke her makeshift raft and she soon found herself swept away, clinging to a remnant of the raft as the harsh current shoved her to and fro, just barely escaping the god’s attacks. She was swept away and it was thought that she drowned. 

But fate had other plans. Harmony’s stubborn nature kept her alive as she held on to the large piece of wood that wa sleft of her raft. She climbed on when the current calmed as she drifted further from Skypiea, unsure where she was going and if she will live. Soaked to the bone and shivering, the teen laid there, hoping and praying that she made the right choice as she left her home and entered a world like no other.

She would have passed away if it wasn’t for a pirate ship catching sight of her. A ship belonging to the Sea Warriors, a fierce crew led by Captain Bjørn the Berserker. Though he was a ruthless man known to strike fear into the hearts of men, he had weaknesses to women and children. Though some people may jeer at Bjørn for being kind to women and children, his wrath will have them not dare chuckle at his actions. He was not called the Berserker without reason. Upon seeing Harmony, he had pity on the child and ordered his men to bring her onboard. It was there that he ordered his crew to never harm the child or he will have their heads. Harmony was afraid at first, vaguely remembering the stories of pirates and what they are capable of. But over time,  Bjørn slowly gained Harmony’s trust and she quickly won the hearts of others on the ship for her kind heart.  Bjørn saw her like his own child and treated her as such. He taught her how to fight, use the gun and sword, though she preferred the former. Harmony called him Uncle Bjørn and lived with the pirates. 

Though she is still embarrassed by no longer having her wings, and the scars still made people cringe by how ghastly they appear. There are nights when the phantom pain her wings torment her, just like the nightmares of Enel and how he took her family and her home. How she missed Skypiea and her own tribe. She longed to go home and be with her people again, but she knew it isn’t easy.

Her parents were defectors and though the Shandians strive to remain out of Enel’s reach, they may reject Harmony for what her parents have tried to do. She feared they will reject her for her old burns and the loss of her wings.  feared she would be rejected by her people. 

Her fear was so powerful, she dreaded the thought of returning to Skypeia.  Though they were liberated from Enel’s tyranny and the four hundred year war against the Skypians ended, she cannot bear to return for the memories and heartache are too strong, just like the fear of being deemed an outsider instead of being one of the Shandians.  And so, she remained with the pirates until she became an adult when something that bothered her became more intense. 

But, she feels she must do more than live the sheltered life on this ship. Yes, her needs are met, and she is safe for the most part, but there is something within her. A calling to see the world. She knew it was a harsh and cruel place as she has seen it firsthand. Yet, she did not abandon the kindness she carried since her birth. She wondered what would happen if she went out to see what this place has to offer. Could offering light and kindness in this dark world make a difference? At least a little bit? Perhaps it is wishful thinking from a foolish heart, but the desire to make a difference and put an end to the ugliness of human nature gnawed at her. It became too much to ignore!

 Her wanderlust grew stronger by the time she was nineteen. She came to Captain  Bjørn  requesting to leave the Sea Warriors as she craves for adventure and finding herself. 

Though  Bjørn was reluctant to let her go as he knew the cruelty that existed in thei dangerous world, he agreed. He gave her a small fortune from his treasure and his prized pistol before seeing her leave the Sea Warriors. He made sure to remind her that if she ever changes her mind, search for the Sea Warriors and they will welcome her back.

Harmony gave her guardian one more embrace, tearfully thanking him for everything before she set off from the ship before it left her behind on an island that she chose to start her journey. She recalls some sniffles and a few men hiding in the shadows to weep. The Sea Warriors became a family to her. A rowdy one, but they all cared for her and grew attached to the child they watched grew up to a woman. One who is ready to see the world and find herself.

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Mandoctober Day 14: Helmet

A/N: brought to you by angst, depression, a small hot chocolate, the tense feeling in my shoulders as I’m typing this and of course the source of almost all of my writing: the mixture of insomnia and a f**ked up sleep schedule.

p.s. I am trying to take care of myself, October is just a tough time of the year for me and Mandoctober is helping me cope. I refuse to give up any possibly writings/drawings at this point.

Also this is loosely based off of headcannons from @dindjarindiaries​ blog and this is for @leo-moon​ ‘s Mandoctober!

TW: mentions of abuse (both descriptive, non-descriptive, mental, emotional and physical but only for a two, three paragraphs) Refusal to eat or sleep (Din refuses to do these things for two seconds and Reader isn’t granted them) minor character death, themes of slavery (NOT RACE SPECIFIED) (not a trigger warning) pronouns of a gender neutral partner and of course, lastly, hurt/comfort and fluff. (Also personally because I wrote this and I can shout it into the void, I’m gender fluid with she/her pronouns so I’d like to imagine reader is too, BUT THAT’S JUST ME SO IMAGINE THIS HOWEVER YOU WANT, once again requests are open for any sexuality/gender, as long as you give me brief description of what you want, nothing NSFW)

Time. Aboard the Razor Crest with no specific moon, sun or stars to guide you, time easily became irrelevant. What you learned very quickly was that with this discovery, you realized Din knew that too. 

Or it had gotten to a point where he learnt it a long time ago and just...forgot all about it.

Sometimes he would just sit there in the pilot’s seat, without even doing anything and he would just stare into oblivion. You wondered if his eyesight was okay. Now that you think about it...when was the last time he ate something? Does he ever take that helmet off?

“Din? Are you okay?” For a moment you thought he might be asleep. 

“Sorry...did you say something?” Okay, now you knew he at least needed some sleep. 

“Come on tin can. You need some brain food and maybe even an ‘extended nap’.” You joked.

“Isn’t that just called sleeping?” You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not...or if that helmet was squeezing his brain too.

“Come on!” Grabbing his hand unexpectedly, Din flinched a little before you dragged him to his feet. 

“I-I can’t.” This admission had you stopping in your tracks as you reached the hull. 

“Is...everything okay?” You were concerned before but now you were starting to think he was hiding a wound from you. He’s done it before. Waiting until you were asleep to tend to it so you wouldn’t worry. Little did he know you had been wide awake with worry for a while and could hear him hurting himself with that blasted cauterizer. 

It was understandable that as a Mandalorian medical supplies weren’t cheap. Even with all the bounties Din brought in, currency rates were going up around the universe. It was difficult to keep up with. Which is why you never broached the subject with him.

It wasn’t your place to pry. 

Not with him anyway...he was silent, reserved, it was like he didn’t trust you. Yet you of all people understood that, you understood that it took you a long time to trust him. Like really trust him with your life...rather than just your role to him as the child’s ‘caretaker’.

It blind sided you when you realized how deeply you cared for him...Mando. 

Gods, you didn’t even know his own name.

“My creed. I can’t...eat in front of other people.” This was a touchy subject. You knew that. But you underestimated how stressed out he really was. He wasn’t wounded...he was just bone tired.

“Well, I can make some food-”

“DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!”

“...ok.”

He hadn’t seethed the words out from his teeth as loud as you had heard them.

But...the look on your face as your eyes met the floor, undoubtedly filling with tears.

It cut Din deeper than any vibroblade could.

---

“I don’t know what to do Ad’ika. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t dream without thinking of her. And now...now I’ve gone and done the worst thing I could ever do to her...I hurt her without even touching her.” 

The sigh was small before it reached a crescendo out of his lungs, erupting out of his head like it was a volcano. That was what it felt like to breath again. When he was alone Mando had the freedom to take his helmet off on the Crest as much as he wanted. As long as he was in space, his privacy was unlimited. 

But that all changed when he met the child and then eventually...you. 

“I just wish...I knew more about her. Knew her likes and dislikes. Knew what her favorite food was. What makes her laugh...her favorite kind of music…I’ve gone and ruined everything haven’t I? Not just for me but for you too. I can’t just let her go...and if she does leave I can’t just hire someone new. She’s...really burrowed her way into my heart, little one.” 

Din’s soliloquy fell into the little creature’s ears like a fly trap. The child knew his father was hurting, he could feel it, not just in the force but in his tiny little heart. It was the kind of hurt he couldn’t fix with his own hands...he had to find another way. He had to make his buir feel whole again. 

Determined, the little creature climbed onto his father’s chest as his breathing started to relax. 

“Ad’ika, I’m not in the mood for games right now…” The dark circles under Din’s eyes became more and more pronounced as the hours dragged on. The good thing about being a father now meant that he had someone to talk to at any time if the baby was also struggling to sleep. 

Din never thought he would become a father. He thought a lot of things wouldn’t happen before he died a warrior’s death. He definitely thought he wasn’t going to fall in love too...but that happened before he could even think about it. 

Multiple chirps and coos echoed from the child’s lips as Din continued to massage his temples. 

“Ad’ika did you not hear me?”

Opening his eyes, Din found himself utterly and completely alone. 

“Ad’ika!” Startling upwards, he launched himself onto his bear feet as he searched the dark air around him for either you or the child. 

“Y/N!” Screaming your name into the void he began to run, not caring about his bare feet, his sleep wear or the fact his helmet was completely missing. 

A fact that had not gone unnoticed by the child.

---

Abruptly, Din was launched into the scorching blazes of a desert sun. 

The sand hurt as he fell down the dune he wasn’t gonna lie. 

But in some weird, twisted way, it felt good to feel the sand under his skin. 

“Girl! You get back here! Wretched creature!!” The sudden yelling came from a small village not too far away from where Din stood. Flinching, he hid behind the sand. He felt naked without the beskar. It was almost embarrassing how scared he was right now.

Peering over the sandy hill, he saw a young child with Y/H/C hair, rosy cheeks and bare feet run straight towards him. Not considering the strange events that had occurred before this, Din, although he’d never admit it, attempted to run away from her. Except, when she caught up to him, she ran right through him.

Din couldn’t decide whether this was some wicked form of a dream or that he had died and was now wandering the nearest planet.

Oh Maker, what if he was dead? There was no way you could pilot the Crest on your own...and what about Ad’ika.

That was when he heard it, the baby cooing in his head. 

“Ad’ika?”

That’s when it clicked. He wasn’t in some hellish figment of his imagination or dead…the child had used his powers to do this since he wasn’t wearing his helmet. But then again...where the hell was he?

“Y/N! YOU UGLY THING! IF YOU DON’T GET BACK HERE I WILL THROTTLE YOU!”

Whipping around to face you, all Din was met with was the familiar sight of you hunched over yourself, right near his feet. Crying. This had happened before but…not like this.

Was this...one of your memories? 

Oh no...Din was in your head. Somehow, the baby had managed it.

“I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK THERE! AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” Din turned back to face the furious woman, she looked like a cursed school teacher, her hair flying all over the place. But what stood out to him were the nail marks on her cheek. 

He couldn’t picture it but somehow this woman had distressed you so much you had decided to hit her. The next thing that happened confirmed it…

SLAP!

“YOU EVER HIT ME LIKE THAT AGAIN GIRL I WON’T BE AS CONSIDERATE TO KEEP YOU!”

Keep you? Oh...you weren’t a school child.

You were a slave.

That’s why when you had first met you had been so skittish, so fearful...and yet so brave. 

Somehow it all made sense.

Din couldn’t help reaching out for you as your head sagged on your shoulders, a purple and pink mark blossoming across the side of your face as the evil woman clawed her hand around your wrist. 

“You will make my children their supper and you will go straight into the cellar with no dinner. Do you understand me child?” She spoke with a gentle tone...yet the venom dripped from it with the force of a thousand sandcrawlers. 

“...Yes Ma’am.” 

Your submission startled Din. Then again, you were only a child, and if Din hadn’t been taken in by the Mandalorians at your age...who knows what could’ve happened to him. From what little he had heard about of slaves...they didn’t often make it to see their teenage years. 

Yet, somehow you did. 

Din couldn’t help being grateful that, from what he could see of you, those were the only things that cruel woman had done to you. 

---

Stumbling into a new landscape, Din shook his head in an attempt to gain his bearings. 

“Look Y/N, it’ll be a quick job, all you have to do is listen to what I say and we’ll be gone as soon as you can say ‘bantha fodder’.” 

This was a new voice. A teenager from what Din could guess. They spoke in a kind tone but at the sound of the way they said your name he couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy welling up in him. 

Shaking his head once again, he looking around the jungle planet to spot you and this person.

“Iarren...I don’t know about this. I know we’ve done stuff like this before but we’re not resistance fighters. Those are imperial troops. What if...what if one of us doesn’t come back from this?” 

A much older version of you appeared like a vision from behind the leaves. You were much older now, Din could only guess that you had only just recently come of age. You had grown into your features well. He could see more of the fierce woman he had come to know. 

“Babe, you worry too much. Imps are stupid, plus what we are after is right next to the door practically. If you’re so concerned you can cover me from here and I’ll be right back to kiss your worries away...alright?” Din could tell just by the way you shared a glance that you were absolutely taken with this person. 

In a way Din respected them...but in the back of his mind he knew there was a reason he was seeing this particular memory. Bracing himself, he could only watch as you shared a tender kiss with your lover. It shocked him how passionate you were with them. Gripping them like a vice as if you knew what was about to happen. 

Din’s heart broke for you as he watched you sob over their corpse later that very night. 

---

“Cyare?” 

Din thought he had finally made it back to you just by looking upon your face. Much older now, age similar to the one when he met you. Looking around, he realized...this was that exact moment. 

“Excuse me.” 

Now Din knew for certain he wasn’t dreaming...there was no way he could dream about himself in this much detail. It was like having an out of body experience...in a way he was.

“Can I help you?” The first thing Din noticed about you was that you were too kind to have been on a planet as rough as Andos. Imps were everywhere nowadays and it was the one time Din had to wear a proper cloak so no one could spot him. 

“I need to hire someone to help me with a child. I was wondering if you could help me find a person that is trustworthy?” Being a Mandalorian was so difficult that day. Meeting you made him realize that you were kind enough to suggest yourself, admitting that you were tired of the constant trail of dead bodies this planet had shown you. He flinched when you mentioned the blood you found leaking through your front door one morning. 

He accepted your offer immediately. Offering payment for a job you had been doing for years without none. 

Din had no clue he had saved you from slavery for the second time in your life. 

---

Waking up in a cold sweat, Din knew this was reality. 

All your memories, it felt like a dream. 

That’s when he felt his son sag against his chest, heaving long tired breaths. 

Din was scared he had over exerted himself. 

“Ad’ika...why did you do that?” 

All the child could do was reach for his father’s face, bringing it towards his own. 

“Da.” This one, simple word, brought Din’s walls crumbling to the ground as he began to cry. 

“Thank you...Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Ad’ika.”

The overwhelming joy he felt caused his thoughts about you to skyrocket. He knew he had to share this information with you. 

Startling from his bed, Din shot out of his room with the sleepy child tucked against his vest clad chest. 

“Y/N! Cyare come quick!” 

The sound of his unmodulated voice scared you more than anything else he had said to you that night. What you didn’t expect when you opened the door was to find a complete stranger shouting your name. 

“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH DIN?!” You practically screamed, ready to throw hands with this strange practically half naked man that had appeared before you.

That’s what you spotted the child in his arms, half asleep and staring admiringly up at the man. 

“...He called me da. I...had to share that with you Cyare...I didn’t even think twice about my creed.” The watery smile he gave you was enough to convince you that the man before you was none other than Din Djarin himself. 

“...just like that? You...you threw away your creed, being a Mandalorian...just so you could tell me he spoke his first word?” Din thought you were upset, in a way you were. 

When he turned to find your eyes filled with the happiest of tears he had ever seen, the overwhelming urge to kiss you kept slamming into his head, bleeding through his heart. 

“Cyare...Father’s always share the first word their child speaks with their Mother.” 

When you began to sob, Din refused to hold himself back as he curled his fingers through your hair, cradling your son between the two of you as he tilted your head back. 

As his lips brushed against yours for the first time…

You both had never felt so free.

[avengersassemble-fics]

Ashes

part 04/?? “a secret he can carry”

masterlist

previous part // next part

word count 3.3k

an: sorry this one is shorter but it contains some important information!!

There was one thing that Ben seemed to have lost after the Purge, and that was his patience. In the years since he had been on this desert covered planet, he had never been as impatient as he was at this very moment. No amount of meditating was helping to clear his mind, inevitably he would find himself back by the side of the unconscious woman who had taken over his own bed.

It had been four days now since the former Jedi, and the two runaways, had delved into your mind and healed your wounds. Ben didn’t know how he did it, but when you didn’t wake up soon after he spent more and more time trying to reconnect with you when he was allowed time away from the others who now hid out in their ship outside. That was where he was now, seated on a stool next to your side, gently rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Ben had never been one to show such… Admiration. Not since Satine, at least. And even then when he grew older and more involved in the Jedi ways, he never openly embraced her in the way he has with you. Deep down something was saying he shouldn’t be clinging onto you like this, but another part of him didn’t care. And that was the feeling that was stronger in this instance.

Ben inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he could feel your pulse against your wrist he held onto so dearly. His breaths soon matched yours as he dived into your mind again, seeking an answer he hadn’t yet gotten. The familiar darkness swallowed him again, but it wasn’t the raging darkness he had once seen in his Padawan, no this one was calm. This was just you resting. But from what he knew, what you had shared with him over the years, there was another here. More maybe, but he knew someone (or something) was helping you regain your strength. They may have healed you physically, but something was keeping you here to heal you mentally. Maybe even be helping you heal your connection. That was all Ben wanted to know. Were you going to be okay?

“She’ll be fine,” a voice said behind him. Ben’s eyes opened, met with an overwhelming amount of sunshine he wasn’t prepared for. Grass covered the ground he stood on, and a figure moved around him to stand before him. Their hood was lowered and Ben was met with an unfamiliar face. They offered him a smile, and latched their fingers together. “It is good to see you, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m afraid we haven’t met,” Ben said. The figure nodded, taking a small step forward.

“Not formally, no. But we know you fairly well.”

“We?” Ben asked. The figure nodded and Ben glanced behind them, as if looking for another person.

“We, though it’s just me in this form,” they explained. Ben nodded a bit and took another glance around.

“I’ve been here before, haven’t I?”

“You and your Padawan, yes. In one way or another,” they said. “You have questions. We wanted to help ease your mind.”

“Who exactly is this we?” Ben first asked. The figure came to his side, and together, began to walk beside one another.

“We are, how you would say, guardians of the Force. Here we do not believe in the good or evil, we believe in the natural balance.”

Ben nodded along when they finished their explanation, but he couldn’t help but raise a brow. “If you believe in the natural balance, then why were the Jedi allowed to fall?”

“We didn’t want it to happen, Obi-Wan,” they said. They paused for a moment, and Ben looked back to meet their eyes, which had looked almost remorseful. “We are sorry you and the other Jedi had to experience such loss. We are bound to this existence, we tried to intervene, but-”

“Intervene how?” Ben asked almost abruptly. “Pardon my expression, but hundreds of souls were lost. Good and kind souls. Good men were created and used as pawns for a Sith Lord.”

The figure did not reply back right away. They seemed to glance over their shoulder as if to seek permission from another who wasn’t there. They looked back to him and offered a nod. “Did you ever learn how Skywalker was brought into existence?”

That was an odd question. Ben couldn’t help but glance over the figure before they started to walk again, and Ben sighed and followed. “My Master believed him to be born from the Force.”

“Your Master was both right and wrong. Are you familiar with Darth Plagueis?”

Ben wanted to scoff. He had heard of the Sith Lord from his Master before he himself became a Master. The Jedi had felt his fall during the early months of training his Padawan. They thought the Sith were done for good. How blind they were back then. “He was the Sith Lord before Palpatine.”

“He was his Master,” the figure corrected. “Plagueis had a unique gift, one that we knew would lead to his demise. He could manipulate midi-chlorians to create and manipulate life. He further learned how to transfer his own consciousness to another. He had found a way to life for eternity.. Something he passed along to his Padawan.”

“They learned how to create life?”

“Indeed,” they answered. Ben looked down to his feet, as if already knowing what was going to be said to him next. “Sidious tried this tactic once. Unknowingly, he created a life. He had impregnated a slave on Tatooine unknowingly, and thus led to the virgin birth of Anakin Skywalker. Once he learned of the boy's existence, he killed his Master.”

“And thus he began to groom him,” Ben spoke out loud. The figure nodded by his side. “He planned from the beginning to have Anakin as his Padawan.”

“To complete the Rule of Two, yes,” the figure acknowledged.

“So if you knew of this occurrence, how did you intervene?” Ben asked. The figure came to another stop just before him, and turned to face him fully.

“When we learned of what Sidious had done, learned of the life he created.. We looked to the future, we saw what would unfold if we did not intervene-“

“You saw the future and yet so many were slaughtered,” Ben interrupted. The figure pursed their mouth, but let him continue. “What was your intervention anyway?”

“Impatience does not suit you, Obi-Wan,” they told him. Ben wanted to roll his eyes, but he instead crossed his arms. “Skywalker was destined to fall. His love and his lack of faith was the root of his problems. He believed he’d lose everything, and in his actions he did so. We saw nearly two decades of the Empire’s reign, of the Sith rule.. We could not allow it to happen. Sidious created a life.. So we did as well.”

He didn’t answer right away. Ben watched as the scenery around him changed, ash now crunched under his boots and there was a farm in the distance. He could hear the shrill scream of a child in the distance, and he took a couple steps forward almost automatically. He stopped in his tracks when he watched a young girl run around the corner, wind whipping through her hair and not far behind came a racing father. The child was whisked into the air and the shrill cries turned into bouts of laughter. Ben swallowed the lump that had formed at the back of his throat, and the figure joined his side once more.

“They struggled for years to conceive,” the figure explained. “We wanted the child to have a good upbringing.. To feel loved. The parents were destined to die during the Clone Wars, we believed that this ending.. At least they knew the love from having a child they always hoped for.”

Ben watched as the father, your father, carried you back around the corner, the laughter dying down the further they got away from the two intruders. Ben couldn’t help but wiggle his fingers by his side, trying to wrap his mind around everything he was learning. “So you created a life naturally. She acts as your connection to the physical world.”

“Yes,” they answered simply. “Plagueis and Sidious detecting her presence in the Force was.. Not expected. But her being brought to Tatooine alongside Skywalker was.. An unexpected advantage. The Sith Lords didn’t know about him at the time, so their bond was naturally built. We did not intervene in that matter.”

“Did you always intend for them to..”

“No,” they answered again simply. “When it began to happen we worried that it would be the same outcome as the future we originally saw.. But we put our trust and hope into her decisions.”

Ben nodded to himself. The scene changed again before him, and they were back to where they started. Grass and sunshine enveloped him, and he inhaled deeply. “What are you expecting out of her.”

It was a demand more than a question. The figure looked him over but he stood his ground. They gave him a short nod, and a small answer before departing him. “To help Skywalker fulfill his destiny.”

The all too familiar white walls of this Star Destroyer was all Vader tried to focus on. His heavy steps and equally heavy breathing filled the hallways he walked through on his way to his personal chambers. Stormtroopers and officers paused and offered their respect as he passed, but Vader ignored them. He had more important things to attend to.

His personal quarters were his destination. He knew as he walked in and came to a kneel in the middle of the room that his Master would be waiting. Nearly on cue, a hologram appeared before him and towered Vader in size, and the hunched image of his superior filled the room. Vader knew he had his eyes on the back of his helmet, but he kept his head down until he was granted permission to stand.

“Lord Vader,” the sickly, cold voice rang around the walls. Vader’s hiss-and-purr was all but an answer, but he couldn’t help but clench his fist that rested on his bent leg. “Rise, my Padawan.”

Vader rose, coming to a stand still towered over by the Emperor. Under his hood his dark eyes looked over Vader, but offered no hint of any of the thoughts running through his evil mind. “Did you receive word about these pesky Jedi?”

“My Inquisitors are scouring Tatooine as we speak, Master,” Vader answered. The Emperor nodded and said a small ‘good’ in response. Vader looked over his Master, and for a moment wondered if he should tell his Master what he learned.

“Is something troubling you,Padawan?” The Emperor asked. Vader closed his eyes for a moment behind his mask, and with only a second or two to think, he gave a short answer.

“No, Master.”

This was a secret he could carry with him for a little while longer. At least while he did his own investigation.

The Emperor hesitated to end their call, but when he did Vader was on the move again. His Star Destroyer had travelled to the outer rim of the Core Planets, looming in the darkness and stars, none of the planets knew what Lord Vader’s presence meant, but he was sure it put them on edge. It wasn’t often he came near these planets. But he had a mission of his own, and not one that his Master needed to know about. Vader made his way back through the halls and to his personal hangar, where his TIE fighter sat. When he climbed inside and flicked several switches on and heard the familiar roar of the engines, Vader had to control his thoughts.

Vader always enjoyed flying. Even as the weak Jedi he was, it was one of his favorite pastimes. There weren’t too many chances Vader got to be free of the eyes of those around him, so as his ship pulled out of the hangar and the hiss of the engines shot him off towards his destination, he was calm. He ignored the ever growing persistence in the back of mind.

He hadn’t been back to Coruscant since he left the then pregnant Senator with promises of returning. He had intended to rendezvous on Korriban after his duties on Mustafar were complete, and with his beloved by his side they would all travel to Naboo. Vader couldn’t believe how foolish he had been before his true rise to power. But for some reason that didn’t seem to settle his mind as he descended his ship into the familiar flow of traffic on Coruscant.

It was a busy planet, even all these years ago. The hustle and bustle of the upper city was a sight for sore eyes, even behind the helmet Vader always had to wear. But his eyes were trained on one familiar building, one where he had tucked away after the death of his always and forever, one that even when his ship settled on the landing pad just outside the main room, Vader hesitated to get out. But he knew what needed to be done. He pushed himself out of the ship, and with each step he took into the open apartment, the hiss and purr of his breathing was the only sound he could hear.

A tall tower of black, billows of a cape down to the ground and shifting with each step, Vader looked around his surroundings. Images played out before him like he was living in a memory.. One he never wanted to leave.

The room got brighter. Sunshine flittered into the rooms and Vader came to a stop to watch his former self pace before him. He could see the fiddle of his flesh fingers and the mechanical ones that used to adorn his arms, the dark Jedi robes crossed the floors and Vader heard it first. He could see it out of the corner of his helmet, the movement of a body in the other room. Vader watched as the beautiful silhouette that often clogged his mind was just mere feet in front of him again. He didn’t even listen to the conversation that happened in this memory, Vader remembered he had offered his apologies for seeing you in such a vulnerable way. He instead took careful steps forward, looking over your frame, the smile that crossed your face, and when he reached forward to brush some wet hair from your shoulder, when you faded away.

Vader never could live these moments very long. The sunshine was gone, and he was back in the same apartment, but it lacked the life that once was there. Now standing in the bedroom he shared with the woman he imagined forever with, Vader focused his attention on the only out of place item in the room. It was a small chest, one he had tucked away of his own creation to gift to you when his children were born, and it was placed here by Vader himself after the Clone Wars had ended. He had made a trip, unknowing to his Master, back here whenever he retrieved your weaponry from Korriban.

Vader had felt the need to keep this safe. Safe from the elements, safe from his Master, and safe from himself. But with his knowledge, Vader needed to see it again. With his gloved hands he opened the box and was met with the slight gleam off the lightsaber that rested inside.

The only other thing that stared up at him was the japor ivory pendant tied onto the hilt.

It had felt like a lifetime between when you had closed your eyes to being able to finally reopen them and squint against the dimly lit and slightly dusted room. Your head fell to the side as you peered around your environment, a light throw blanket covered you and instinctively your hand reached under and lifted the hem of your shirt to glide across your skin. It was smooth and showed no sign that anything had even happened. You pushed yourself up, the ache you remembered was long gone now as well, and carefully moved to set your feet down on the ground.

Ben didn’t have much of himself here, even in his own room. No knickknacks, no personal items, just.. Well, just junk. Gadgets were strewn here and there, old pieces of metal he would eventually recycle into something else, but nothing symbolizing him. You shook your head as you pushed your feet into the boots they must have taken off you who knows how long ago, and stood. Your eyes looked around for any sign of the jacket you had been wearing, but it was nowhere in sight. With a shake of your head and a blood stained tank top, you hesitantly made your way up the rounded stairs, not hearing any voices coming from the main room.

After making it to the top, and no one being there to greet you from your trance, you huffed a bit. Though you had no pain, your body and mind felt weak. Probably just from lack of water and food, but you also had an overwhelming sense of.. Everything. The stale air inside the little house, the smell of burning sand outside, and even the echo of voices just beyond the door. As you pulled yourself over to it, pressing the panel firmly to open the door, you were met with the sweet sound of one voice.

Ben.

Taking steps out into the glaring Tatooine environment was hard enough in and of itself, but you seeked out his voice. Kicking sand up along the way you had gotten maybe five to six steps out before the pounding in your head sharpened. You weren’t close enough to fully capture the exchange, but it was as if you could feel the young Jedi hit the sand like he was right in front of you.

Ben twirled his practice staff over his palms, circling the young Cal Kestis so his back (unironically) faced where you came out of the house. “You have to be aware of your surroundings, Cal. Those Inquisitors won’t hold back, they’ll look for any opening you give them-”

Cal had picked himself up from the sandy ground and given his practice staff a tight squeeze, but he looked past the man before him when a shape caught his eyes. He had loosened his grip seeing you wander out into the sun, and raised a brow. “Uh.. Ben-”

“- And if you ever were to come face to face to the Emperor’s apprentice again, you want to make sure-”

“Sir,” Cal tried again. Ben finally stopped speaking after the red haired Jedi interrupted him again, and Cal motioned behind him. Ben turned around to face the glaring sun but his squint softened at the sight of you. You had come to a stop a few feet away from him but Ben wasted no time in dropping his practice staff and rushing over, and pulling you firmly against him. Instinctively one of his hands nestled the back of your head and the other arm held you to him. He wouldn’t dare to admit it to anyone but he was relieved you had finally woken up.

You two only stayed like this for a moment, before Ben separated from you. He looked you over and noted the dirty clothing you wore, and gave a sheepish smile. “I tried to tell you this wouldn’t end well.”

You let out a chuckle, and only shook your head. “Maybe you’re right.. Please tell me you have food back in there.”

Ben nodded, and with his help, he led you back to the small hut. Cal followed in tow with Ben’s dropped staff, and after a short while, the rest of the young Jedi’s crew had joined them inside.

How were you going to break this news to him?

- - - - - - - - - -

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[ythankucaptainmccoy]

Jango Fett Plentiful Bounties (Chapter 1)

Alright guys this is the start to my Jango Fett story. It takes place in an alternate universe where order 66 doesn’t occur, Jango doesn’t die on Geonosis and is able to raise his son. The war is still going on, and the clones have just entered the war. He took Boba on the run after being discovered on Kamino by Obi Wan Kenobi. He will eventually meet you (reader) who is a mandalorian bounty hunter.I don’t own Star Wars or the characters other than Jaeah and Eyalteri. So without further adieu here we go!

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

Slave I was quiet other than Jango’s young son's snores. It had been a long day of bounty hunting, but in the end he had captured his man. An arms trader that needed taking care of, and he was about to make a lot of credits. Once landing on Coruscant he woke Boba to follow him while walking the bounty to the drop off. “Look I can pay you”, he pleaded. “Not more than what I’m getting from Jaeah”, Jango replied. 

Jango occasionally glanced at his son through his helmet's visor to make sure he was still following. Even as a ten year old he still got easily distracted, and Coruscant was not a place for a young boy to get lost especially here in the lower levels. “Boba stay close”, his father told him. The bounty was continuing to try, and make deals to get out of the situation he had landed in. Jango shook his head as they made it to the front of Jaeah’s hideout. “Boba stay here and keep hidden until I come back out”, he commanded.

Boba did as he was told, and went to hide as Jango ushered his quarry inside. “Jango!”, Jaeahs voice boomed. “I have your arms dealer as promised”, Jango pushed the bounty forward. “So you have, so take your credits. Men take him to the back, and get him ready for the next slave ship”, Jaeah growled out. “Cost me a lot this one did, but I’m sure the Sepratist will find use for him as a slave. Oh I have another bounty if you're interested”, he clapped Jango on the shoulder. Jango shrugged his hand off. 

“What kind of bounty?”, Jango questioned. “A twi'lek that a guy saw. Put a bounty on her head, and he wants her alive. Apperently he runs a sex slave operation, and I know you usually don’t mess with these kinds of things, but the amount of credits he is offering is worth the trouble”, Jaeah went on. Jango didn’t care at this point, credits were credits after all, “I’ll take the bounty”, he responded. “Good here is all the info you need, and this one has a tracking beacon, but keep in mind there are several other bounty hunters after her”, he chuckled.

Jango nodded knowing that this should be a simple job. He headed outside where he called Boba to him. “I have another bounty, and this time you get to help”, Jango hummed. The bounty was showing here on Coruscant, and Jango got moving with his son in tow. This bounty would set them a while, and he was determined to get this job done tonight. “Who is the target?”, Boba asked looking up at his father. “A twi’lek”, Jango answered. “So why do you need me then?”, Boba once again questioned. “I need you to distract her, and I need you to seem scared and upset. You up for it son?”, Jango asked as Boba nodded.

The fight was getting intense and you were not willing to give up now. You had to get the cargo out of here, but the other bounty hunters were making it difficult. You had shot down three already, but their companions were closing in, and your blaster was out. You threw your blaster at the main man with the vibroblade, and it hit him square in the face. He clutched his face, and ordered the others to attack. You drew your vibroblades as they attacked pushing one away with a kick to the chest, and swinging the blades at the other one. You caught the third with a swipe across his arm, and on his right leg. 

He faltered enough to where you could stab him through the stomach. He coughed up some blood, and you pulled your sword free. He collapsed into a heap on the ground as the second goon came back. He tackled you as your vibroblades landed a little ways away. You brought your legs up around his neck and twisted your body with all your might. The sickening crack, and he gasped for air as he took his last breaths. 

The main man stepped forward, and you motioned for him to come toward you. He charged and you jumped over him, landing on your feet you turned to kick at the back of his knee. He went down on said knee and twisted grabbing your leg to then twist it. You fell and he was over you in seconds. He brought a vibroblade down, and you brought your arms up to shield yourself. The vibroblade struck your beskar armor, and he went in for another jab at your neck as you deflected again. 

You shifted under him, and kicked him as hard as you could. He fell forward landing over your head as you rolled onto your stomach to lurch for your vibroblades. You had just grasped the hilts, and rolled as he tried to stab you again. Jumping to your feet he swung again and again as you dodged each swing of his small blade. You cut him across the chest which only seemed to enrage him as he swung wildly at your neck. You dodged and brought one of your blades across his legs. 

“Give up before you end up like your friends”, you growled from underneath your helmet. “Never that bounty is mine!”, he yelled, making a swipe for you catching a part of your arm that wasn’t covered by armor. You hissed as the blood started seeping into the cloth of your suit. He made another go, but you were faster as you pushed both of your blades into his abdomen. He grabbed hold of your wrists as he pulled himself onto the blades. “If I die so will you”, he coughed.

He let go of one wrist with the hand that held his vibroblade and struck you in the side. You cried out as it sunk into the flesh there. “You die with me”, the man gurgled as you pulled your blades free. You put your vibroblades back in their holders, and pulled the one in your side out. It was a searing pain, and you were sure that the blade was laced with poison. You stuck it into your boot for analysis of the toxin later. Right now you had to make sure the cargo was safe.

Jango and Boba had watched the whole fight from a perch on top of a small building nearby. Jango was impressed by your skill, but he had a job to do and he was also analyzing your weak points. You were injured and that would give him an advantage. “Alright Boba I’m going to distract her. I want you to find the bounty, and remember to play scared and lost”, he reiterated to his son. Boba nodded as he used his jet pack to get them safely to the ground. Jango gave Boba the tracker while he followed you. 

You were mandalorian by the look of your armor, and he still had to be careful with you. You made it into the building where the cargo was stored, but you grasped your vibroblades as you sensed someone's approach. You unsheathed your blades and held them at the ready, “Show yourself coward”, you barked out. He stepped into the light, and saw her visibly stiffen. “Jango Fett”, she rasped out. “Yes and I think you have something I want that is worth a lot of credits”, he titled his helmet. 

“No! I will defend her to my last breath”, you growled and winced. The pain from the stab wound you received earlier was throbbing now. Your suit was soaked in blood, but you were ready to fight him. He was one of the greatest bounty hunters in the galaxy, but you had to try. He pulled his blaster out and aimed it at you. “Just give up and leave here alive”, he tried to bargain. “No”, you replied. “As you wish then”, Jango growled as he fired at you. You ran for cover behind some crates and scaled the taller crates.

You looked down at him, and leapt with your blades held above you. He looked up at the last moment to dodge your blades. You pulled up and started swinging them at him with grace and precision. He was dodging everything until you managed to nick him on the upper arm causing him to drop his blaster. You slashed at him, and he started to deflect them with his vambraces. He deflected one of your blades giving him a window for attack. He launched at you and caused you both to crash to the floor as your blades were knocked from your hands. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist as you tried to use your weight to roll him underneath you. It didn’t work. This man had way more muscle than you, and he was like an immovable wall. You pushed at his helmet with your one hand as your other hand went to your boot for the poison vibroblade. You almost had it when he punched you in the side right over the weeping wound. You screamed in pain as your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders.

Jango didn’t expect the headbutt, and it caused him to pull back. That was your opening. You kicked him away, and grabbed his blaster pointing it at him. “I don’t want to kill you, but I can’t let you take her”, you tried to reason with him. “Look I’m not leaving here without…”, Jango was interrupted by a shout from Boba. “Buir the target is a little girl!”, Boba yelled as he pushed the girl forward. You pointed the blaster at the kid, and that was the wrong move as Jango grabbed the blaster, and ripped it from your grip.

“(Y/N) I’m scared”, the little girl cried. “I know we will get out of this I promise”, you told her as she ran to you. “What’s the meaning of this”, Jango barked. “She’s a 10 year old twi’lek they were gonna sell to sex slavers. I won’t let that happen”, you growled at him pushing her behind you. “Dad she’s the same age as I am”, Boba stated. Jango felt rage now as he realized what they were willing to do to a little girl, twi’lek or not, and how he would react if it were Boba that were in this position. “Let's get the tracker off her, and get her somewhere safe”, Jango told you. 

“I’m not following you anywhere”, you spat. “Look I don’t want to see anything happen to her either let us help you”, Jango bargained as he holstered his weapon. He held out his hand to shake, and hesitantly you shook his hand. As you shook his hand your vision started to blur, and you started to fall forward. He quickly caught you, and gently lay you on the ground. He removed your helmet, and caught sight of how drained you looked. 

“The blade… the...blade, the blade..”, you kept repeating. He remembered the blade you had stuffed in your boot, and pulled it out to analyze it. “(Y/N)!”, the little girl sobbed kneeling beside her. “Boba, take the tracking device off her, we need to move now”, Jango informed him. Boba made quick work of the tracker as Jango hoisted you up into his arms. The little girl grabbed your helmet and blades, and followed close to Boba as she cried. 

Boba would give the girls hand a reassuring squeeze as they walked back to the Slave I. You were dying, and looked up to Jango’s helmet where his eyes would be. “Take care of the girl... she lost her family and I was going to… to care for her”, you told him. He nodded as you finally gave into the darkness that had been calling to you. Jango looked back at Boba talking to the girl trying to comfort her, and back to your body in his arms.

The darkness was all around you, and you could hear a conversation, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then you heard her voice...the little Twi’lek who you knew to be Eyalteri or Eya for short. She had been in danger, wake up, she needs you to wake up, you kept telling yourself. You jolted awake, and sat up with a wail from the pain in your side. A hand on your shoulder was pushing you back into the bed. When you looked up you saw the handsomest man you had ever laid eyes on. He had tan skin with a broad nose, and big brown eyes. 

“Easy, you're still recovering from the wound. The bacta is healing you, but it’ll take time”, he assured you. “Buir can me and the girl go outside to play?”, Boba asked. That's when it hit you this man was Jango Fett, and who knew he looked this damn hot. “Eya’s here can I see her”, you requested. “Sure Boba have the girl come in”, he softly told the boy. “Her name is Eyalteri, but I call her Eya”, you smiled as Eya walked into the room. “Your okay”, she beamed as she ran to your side. 

“Yes it looks like we have these two to thank for that”, you nodded to Jango and Boba. “I think some introductions are in order”, Jango implored. “I’m (Y/N) and this is Eya”, you introduced. “I’m Jango and this is my son Boba”, he introduced. “So buir can we go outside to play”, the boy insisted. “Yes just make sure to stay close to the house”, Jango sighed. The two children took off running out the door as you looked back at Jango.

“Where are we and how long was I out?”, you questioned. “We are in a safehouse on Naboo far enough away from prying eyes, and you have been out for two days”, he answered. You were about to question him further until your stomach growled. “Seems you're hungry, I’ll be back in a moment”, he replied as he made his way out. You looked around to see that this looked like an old farmhouse, and that he had bandaged your wounds. He came back with some sort of soup, and you ate it slowly to make sure you could handle it. “Thank you for saving us, but I think we should be on our way”, you winced. 

“You need to rest up. Stay here a while, and wait for them to forget about the girl”, he advised. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stay a while so my… wounds can….heal”, you yawned out. “Sleep Eya is safe here, and Boba is with her”, Jango smiled. You could hear them laughing just outside. “When you wake up I would like to know more about you mandalorian”, he turned serious. You nodded as sleep took you once again. For the first time in a long time you actually felt safe, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

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

Alright guys first chapter of my Jango fic! Hope ya’ll like it and I am going to pick a day or days, I will update this so I can still work on imagines and requests. I wish there was more Jango content out there because he is hella sexy!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Class of 2032: The Return of Tom

Foli lowered his phone from his ear.

The ship was pitching wildly in the rough seas. The air was full of flying corpse guards. Thunder and lightning came one after another. Battles raged on the decks. But he was silent and still staring at the phone where his brother Dofi had spoken his last words. That girl from Cassell College was of a lost lineage, one of the original ten serpents that hatched out of the Great Egg of the Dark King and the Light King before the Light King’s rebellion and before the creation of the Four Lords on the throne. Hilbert Ron Anjou had correctly inferred that there were Light King Hybrids and tracked them down in Japan, and he had inferred correctly that the Dark King and the Light King ruled over a completely different dragon civilization prior to the Four Lords.

He correctly tracked those dragons to Africa and found the Hybrids there. And now, out of Cassell, not only had he found the hybrids of Mawu-Lisa and Legba, but a Hybrid of a third serpent. The West African Hybrids had scoured the world for generations collecting relics of the lost civilizations of the original ten but never once had they ever run across a single person from those other bloodlines. Yet here, that interloper Anjou had brought them a person, this girl.

He put his phone into his pocket and straightened his cap on his head. Dofi was his playmate, the one who always kept his spirits up. His soft voice spoke from the dark. “Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Summer Hart looked up at him from her station at the helm, watching the radar as hundreds of dead slaves flooded the water, undermining the ship from beneath. The depth charges were powerful but only repelled and killed a small number of the beasts. More were coming. Meanwhile, on the deck, the Cassell gear department were working on the airborne missile launcher that would finish off the dragon in the sky. Around them, Cassell warriors were in a desperate battle to keep the monsters at bay.

“I’m going to transfer the command to you for the time being.”

The woman looked at him, her eyes serious. Transfer of leadership was only performed in dire emergencies. He certainly had his pick of emergencies to choose from now but she had a feeling there was something else on his mind.

“There is something precious on this ship that cannot be lost.” He walked to a locker and opened it. A long sword reflected the silver light of the lightning outside. It’s cutting edge glowed faintly red. The hilt was carved wood and overlaid with gold, marked with Egyptian Hieroglyphs. “I must personally protect it.”

“The Cassell team has a wounded member but the plan to stop the King of Sky and Wind at the hatching site is moving forward on schedule.” She informed him, watching him as he armed.

“I will let Cassell College deal with their ancestors. This fight has nothing to do with us.” He took down a submachine gun from the rack and hung a belt of alchemy ammunition from his shoulder. He closed the locker and wrapped it around his waist. He felt numb with grief. “Don’t tell them I’m gone.”

Captain Foli’s mind had already moved on to other things. They were facing overwhelming odds from the King Dragon and its Corpse Guards as well as the fleet of Secret Party ships all competing for the glory and the scraps once that magnificent Sky Dragon was turned into carrion. Foli trained his eyes on the screen that was live broadcasting CCTV footage from inside the ship. He flipped through camera after camera until he saw movement. A lone young woman running through a corridor. A few seconds after she passed by the camera, the view was taken up by these horse-sized creatures, galloping after her. 

The girl wasn’t familiar with the ship. She was heading for a dead end.

“Divert personnel to block 387. I will join them.”

In the dark flooded corridor, Ru’Yi skidded to a halt where she'd been running for several minutes. Her lungs were finally starting to burn and the monsters were catching up. There was a large equipment room ahead and no way out. Behind her, these devil horse-like creatures scraped their claws on the metal floor, sending out sparks and gouging long tears in their effort to speed up and gain traction, but she kept running, entered the room and pushed the metal door behind her, locking it shut with the heavy yellow bar. A loud slam and she was thrown back. The beasts put a large dent into the foot thick door.

She picked herself up, gasping for air, looked around quickly and found a fire extinguisher! It was in a red box with a glass panel. Ru’Yi broke the glass with her elbow, tearing her sleeve open, and pulled it out, working frantically to start it up, yanking out the tab and putting it on spray.

Huge claws worked their way through the crack in the door, peeling it back with a metallic screech and revealing blazing golden eyes and flashing teeth. Ru’Yi aimed right for those eyes and let the fire extinguisher loose! A sharp blinding spray of fire retardant chemicals shot out. The creature squealed and disappeared back  but more of them crowded the door.

There was a crow bar behind the fire extinguisher and she gripped that and turned left and right until her eyes fell on a pipe that read, “Caution: High Pressure” in red. 

The door was ripped off its handles and the beast leaped inside just as she smashed a symbol that warned her not to smash it. A jet of boiling hot steam scalded the creature and he raised its arms to shield its face. Ru’Yi scrambled against the wall  to make her way to the door, sobbing in terror.The beast spun around and raked its claws through the air. Ru’Yi’s sneakers slipped in the water and she fell.

Her eyes focused on the lifted claw, hooked with points as sharp as knives glimmering in the low light one second from coming down on her. “Daddy!” She curled up. 

The creature screamed and staggered back under sudden gun fire!

“Get in! Get in!” The members of the West African Executive Board were no cowards. They leaped into the small equipment room, barreling behind long handled spears with shining red tips. Those spear heads penetrated the dead slave skin like they were nothing  but ordinary creatures and pinned them to the floor.

One man crouched under the array of spear shafts and held out his hand with wide eyes to Ru’Yi. “Give me your hand!”

She reached out and he pulled her, sliding her under the door. 

“I’ve got her!” He yelled, hurrying back. 

“Get down! Get down!” Someone yelled. 

“Clear!”

A large bomb went sailing over all their heads and into the equipment room. A bang and a flash and the room filled with mercury vapor.

“Keep shooting!”

Ru’Yi clapped her ears over her head to dampen the hammering of the machine guns and the howls and the screams of the dying beasts.

“Sir!”

Ru’Yi opened her eyes. Captain Foli stood, his eyes wide and his face set. He towered over her like a giant in uniform. “What is your name!” He snapped at her.

“Ru’Yi… Chu Ru’Yi!” She didn’t have time to dodge his hand. 

He took hold of her. “You are now in the custody of the West Africa Branch.” His eyes glowed golden and Ru’Yi felt the room suddenly tilt. She threw her hands to catch herself, but the room spun in the other direction!

Captain Foli gripped her tightly. To an outside observer she moaned and twitched uncontrollably. She paled and broke out into a sweat.

“Stop! Stop!” She begged him. “Help!”

The soldier who brought her here looked at her and then at the Captain. He’d never seen him use his Yanling before, and much less on a civilian.

Foli gave him a severe glare. “Get back to the fight!”

Ru’Yi was unable to walk on her own so he supported her as they made their way through the corridor. Snarling beasts rounded corners and bolted at them but they were quickly cut down by his submachine gun or his blade.

“Where are you taking me…” Ru’Yi moaned.

“Below decks. There is too much to explain to you right now. But you have to survive this. No matter what.”

“I feel sick… I feel sick!” 

Captain Foli entered a hidden medical area near the area where Ra was slumbering. His Yanling was simply referred to as Vertigo, so of course she felt sick. It severely interfered with his target's sense of balance.  

He opened a cabinet on the wall and pulled out a rack of syringes. He never said anything further. He just shoved a needle in her arm. Then he placed her on the table and strapped her into an emergency travel pod. This pod was reinforced with extremely strong metal and carried a seven days oxygen supply. Even if the ship sank and all aboard were killed, someone could return and find her.

Ru’Yi’s cries turned into a weak incoherent moaning. “Daddy… Daddy help…”

Foli pressed his lips together. He regretted taking her from her family, but his brother had died to give him precious information that he didn’t have to die for… if only he had listened to him earlier.

The heavy bulkhead of the ship suddenly deformed on one side of the room, knocking over furniture and sending supplies flying into the opposite wall. Captain Foli jumped up and aimed his machine gun. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then another loud bang, like someone was hitting the side of the ship with a battering ram! Seawater and rain rushed in and the smell of the ocean flooded the room.

Captain Foli slammed the escape pod shut, and locked it. Claws pierced the metal hull and peeled it back.

What came through was something that looked like a person, but his arms were converted into massive wings. His eyes were red and gold like an open flame, a black trenchcoat flapped from his neck like a cape. His shirt was torn and he was bleeding from his chest, the red running from his body, diluted from the intense rain.

This was no corpse guard. His face wasn’t pale like death and his eyes sparkled with intelligence and anger. Foli brandished his machine gun at him but the creature showed no fear of it. He leaped into the ship with a heavy thud. “Where is Ru’Yi?”

His voice was clear and unmistakable English.

Foli’s eyes turned frigid. He silently opened up a volley of machine gun fire on this beast-man creature. 

It’s eyes burned and it’s wings lifted and filled the air with a strange smoke! Foli covered his nose and mouth, but this wasn’t ordinary air. It pressed against him, spinning in rope-like vortices that pressed his arms to his side and squeezed like chains! He staggered against the wall.

The ‘smoke’ cleared and the young beastman lowered his wings that had served as a shield. Its red-gold eyes fell on the escape pod. He approached cautiously, eying Foli who was leaning against the metal wall.

The smoke was warm and moved independently of the beast. This hand to be some sort of unknown Speech Spirit. Foli watched him lightly caress the escape pod with his wing hands. Then his claws scored the thick metal.

“Heh. You won’t be able to break through it. It’s made to withstand just about anything.” Foli smiled. “She’s not of your kind. She’s of ours. So we’re taking her home.”

“Not of my kind? Explain.” 

“First… I am Captain Foli. I mean her no harm. Quite the opposite. She’s of West African Descent.”

“You’re kidnapping her. You drugged her.” He snarled, revealing sharp fangs.

“You won’t be able to open that thing without my help.” Foli smiled at him. “So you can leave her there and kill me. Or you can let me go and I’ll let you come with her.”

[spuoxfel]

“It's a long, long, long way to go to die,                 And I keep rolling on.”

DYANS ORTIZ, WESTERN VERSE

Dyans Ortiz was born in 1867, to Coleen Ortiz and Desto Ortiz. He was born into wealth, his family supplying goods to build the railroads lining the West. Neglected and abused by his mother from the womb, he did not lead a happy youth life. Taught to read at a young age by a handmaiden, this being his only form of education until he begins learning on his own. At age six, his father sold him off to a rich man, who needed working hands; to pay a debt of his father’s. Since he was a boy, Dyans worked in uprooting swamps surrounding La Nouvelle-Orleans, his birth city. 

At age fifteen was when he first killed a man. He stabbed him through the lower jaw as the man got both too touchy and too mouthy. The body was never found, nor was Dyans ever suspected, for he dumped the body in the river for the alligators to pick off. Before dumping the man, he stripped him of his Colt Model 1839 Carbine, and hid it well on his person until he had the opportunity to bury it under the floor of his shackhouse. The gun sat untouched, old and misfire-prone, for the better half of that spring, until he admitted to keeping it underground. The man he admitted it to was a slave himself, and he offered to teach Dyans to shoot. Dyans, who would have otherwise been opposed to it, knew this old man was aiding him rather than attempting to get him in trouble. However, it was the day that he brought it to see the sun again that he escaped the hold of his owners. He was relatively alone, two other men working alongside him, one guard at their post. The man was a mean hand, got too close to Dyans with a whip. Dyans, having already borne the gun on his person, whipped it out and put a bullet in the man’s head. He wasted no time running. 

 While on the run, he receives a shot to the arm. He trudges through shallow swamp water to lose his own scent from their dogs, and managed to evade their horses. His first crime not akin to murder was horse theivery. He nabbed an American Paint from a traveling man, and took off with it. He would later be described to authorities, and would hold this crime on his person. He makes it pretty far North before hunkering down in a small lumbering town, where he picked a cloth from a clothing line, and a hat from a sleeping drunk, and shielded his face from the world. 

He does not stay in that town for but two days before leaving, well fed and rested. He hitches a swift ride with a couple heading towards Colorado, where he figured he could properly disappear. He did not make it there, however. He and the couple make it to upstate Arkansas before they demand he pay for his travels, no negotiations. He refuses, being a man of no money nor wares. The husband grows quick to anger and removes a gun. Dyans is quick to shoot him first. Despite her pleas, he kills the woman next, having no room for being targeted so far North. He is unseen. He strips the people of their money, eats the little he can stomach, and barebacks one of their drafts to a nearby town. Here, he begins his strict rule; never remove the cloth from his face. He allows his hair and facial hair to grow out in the case of being unable to shield himself, but he stresses he does not show his face. To accompany this, he does not know others as his first name, rather simply “Dee”. 

It is in the town in Northern Arkansas that he begins his mercenary work. A man approaches with a question of his occupation, offers him a load of money to kill a man he has competition with. Dee, who had since had much luck with murder, agrees, and does the job. He brings the man his head, to which he is rewarded for. This continues until he has the money to move from the draft, selling the girl for a fat wad of cash. He was able to turn around and buy himself a large, gray-dappled thoroughbred stallion. It is after he makes this purchase, six years after leaving Louisiana, that he returns to Orleans in search of one man. 

He arrives late in the night, and marches up to the doors of the estate in which he was one enslaved, anger in his blood, a new Colt 1873 Peacemaker at his hip. He knocks a few times, a large man stumbling out blubbering about him causing a racket. He takes the man by the back of the collar, and shoves him out into the road leading up to the estate. Disoriented and confused, the man blabbers about to ask for an explanation. Dyans offers none other than pulling down the mask he bore to reveal his face to the man, before putting two rounds in his chest. He was once more, unseen, though did not go unheard. The murder was talked about in bars around town most of the day. How no one knew of nor saw the killer. 

He remains safely in Orleans for quite some time, until a brawl in a bar deep in town. He pulled his gun first, finding shelter behind the counter while the other man made his claim to a spot across the bar. It was at a moment of two bouts of weakness that Dyans won. The man dropped his pistol in the midst of reloading. Dyans sought the opportunity of ending the man’s life then and there. He put six freshly loaded bullets in his body. During the heat, nine citizens died. Not all by the hand of Dyans, but he bears the guilt nonetheless. On his escape from the city, in which he earned two wounds, he murdered many police officers. He continued to run and did not turn back. He earned the title: “The Orleans Slaughterhouse” after this dispute, a name he loathes to his grave.