#and his love and compassion was passed on to other generations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuppajj · 1 month ago

Text

MASTERPOST

Synopsis: Beast Ancients AU [BAAU] explores an alternate universe where the ancients corrupt into beasts. With the looming presence of the original five beasts as well, the cookies of Earthbread must grapple with the threat of ten beasts vying for power, domination, or annihilation.

This Masterpost is updated as of 10/24/2024.

GENERAL

RULES

DM rules

Save for a few exceptions, DMs are generally not allowed. Those exceptions include requests for references or help with writing a fanfiction set in the universe. The creator only engages in long and/or frequent DM conversations with mutual followers and friends.

Do NOT DM if you are under 16 years of age. This is a 16+ blog for its general tone.

NO CHARACTER AI / NO AI

Creating a Character.AI or any other chat AI of any BAAU-related character is strictly condemned and nonconsensual. This includes creating a private chat AI and feeding any BAAU related work, or the creator’s art, into any generative AI. NO AI MEANS NO AI.

Fanart

Fanart is allowed, including art including OCs/self inserts. Shipping is also allowed, but explicit NSFW art is not.

[Fanart Tag] - #beast ancients au fanart

Fanfics

Fanfiction within the BAAU universe is allowed with the same rules as fanart. X readers are also generally allowed as long as they are not NSFW.

[Fanfic Tag] - #beast ancients au fic

Please note that lore created for fanfics and fanart should not be interpreted as canon to the primary AU itself. Lore includes anything from worldbuilding to individual character ideas. All canon information and lore regarding BAAU and its world comes from the creator.

TAGS

[Main Tag] - The tag for main BAAU related posts. #beast ancients au

[Askbox Tag] - For questions asked about the world, including its story and characters. NOTE: As BAAU develops, certain information will be outdated. Older asks have a higher likelihood of this. #beast ancients au ask

NOTE: I do not answer askbox questions through DMs. Refer to the exceptions under DM rules for what will and will not pass as a DM question. If your question does not pertain to them and the askbox is closed, please wait until it is open again or else I will not answer!

THE CAST

THE BEAST ANCIENTS

Otherwise known as the Neobeasts, these once noble heroes have turned into shadows of their former selves. What was once a tight companionship has become a fragile alliance between powerful entities whose ambitions clash and contradict with each other; but they have a vested agreement that their original counterparts must be defeated. Their personal goals also spell dread for the rest of the world in their own dangerous ways.

Saint Vanilla Cookie - Beast of Penance

The king of the Vanilla Kingdom was once gentle and selfless, wishing nothing but peace, love, and healing for the world. However, his hopes would turn to despair as pain and hardship began to consume him. Deducing that only he could be the one to save the world from its endless cycle of pain and torment, the Hero of Truth formed a messiah complex that turned his caring, selfless nature into a toxic compassion for the emburdened. His self proclaimed destiny is to bring salvation to the entire world: but where he sees the liberation of souls, the unfortunate feel the agonizing pain of disintegration. For the Beast, it is all in the name of his penitent love.

A never ending stream of tears flows from his face. Some think it’s his immense empathy for the pain and suffering of cookies across Earthbread.

He purifies with his touch. It is painfully lethal, and affects anyone who has a soul. The bodies purified turn into faint white sparkles, but their souls disappear.

He can see through any vanilla orchid that has been planted by gazing into the eye of his staff.

He is next to never angered; he pities what would upset anyone else, including those who villainize him. His smile is also semi-permanent, though it can fade in serious situations or moments of deep thought.

His final goal is to ascend to that of a god: with divine power in his grasp, he could finally bring salvation to the whole of Earthbread. However, he is yet to find a means of doing so, and he’s aware that it will be a long and arduous path. However, over the timeline, his appearance changes the closer he gets to godhood.

He has a group of followers known as the Lambs of Penance.

He was the last to corrupt.

[TAG]

Midnight Lily Cookie - Beast of Sovereignty

Awoken into a world scarred by her hands, Lily struggled to heal the wounds of both it and herself. With the death of one of her closest companions the rise of an unfathomably powerful force, and the threat her other half continued to pose behind the scenes, she forged an ironclad autonomy for herself that disregarded true morality in the name of fixing what was broken. The new guardian of the Silver Tree soon became a queen of darkened lilies, turning her entire kingdom of loyal fae into willing tools of corruption. She will not rest until she has delivered her retribution, and will scower the ends of Beast Yeast and Earthbread to find and wipe the blemishes she created; and if cookies and their civilizations are choked by her invasive vines and parasitic flora, the end simply justifies the means.

Lily is called the Silver Queen, Queen of Midnight, Guardian of the Tree, or Lady Lily. The silver fae have many affectionate names for her.

She has chlorokinesis, and uses her powers for both good and harm. She has made the forest around the kingdom a nigh-impenetrable shield, with blades of grass capable of turning into impaling skewers at the flick of her wrist. The reason for the darkened lilies may also have something to do with it.

Though the Beast of Sovereignty believes in the value of free will, she can just as easily take it away. The Silver Kingdom is a sleeping hivemind, its inhabitants capable of going from autonomous individuals to mindless drones if Lily trills it so.

Saint Vanilla visits her often. In the beginning, the Beast of Penance wanted to purify her first out of his immense care for her, but the queen convinced him to let her witness his ascension instead, the last to go if the time came. Saint agreed, and has now become her closest ally. Being with her exposes how touch starved he really is.

[TAG]

Dragonberry Cookie - Beast of Pride

No greater Passion was the Queen mother’s passion for power, fueled by the desire to stand up to any and all threats that came her way. That gluttonous desire drew her attention to the power of the Red Dragon and their kind, and she soon made it her mission to become a dragon herself. With her soul jam and the legendary power of a dragon, nothing could stand in her way. Blinded by draconic obsession, she imprisoned her former ally, and turned her attention to the rest of the conquerable world. Wherever Dragons had been, her legion of researchers and soldiers would follow, their new prime objective to help their queen ascend. In the meantime, she’s happily enjoyed staying in power on the Hollyberrian throne, drinking lavishly as her family act as mere puppets under her will.

Even as a beast, she’s vey jovial.

While Royal Berry and Jungleberry Cookie are still technically the rulers of the Hollyberry Kingdom, they’re entirely in Dragonberry’s pocket. She will give them direct orders if she feels like it, and they are made to listen.

Despite this, she still has a genuine fondness and love for her family; the thing is that her pride, ambition, and the way she treats her family make it hard to tell. She’s even fond of Pitaya, but it doesn’t stop her from treating her equal like a pet half the time.

She ritually drinks doses of poison to build her immunity to it. It’s gotten to the point where assassins can’t tamper with her juice anymore.

She’s stronger and heartier tenfold, capable of tackling giants out of the sky and leveling armies by herself. She’s always eager for a good fight, which is why she holds the gladiatorial matches and combats uprisings in her tributaries.

[TAG]

Frigid Cacao Cookie - Beast of Solitude

The licorice sea was once the greatest threat to the Dark Cacao Kingdom. All of that changed when its resolute king, against all odds, tamed the nightmare. It was a period of historic celebration in increasingly bleaker times, but it wouldn’t last forever. The king slowly regressed into isolation, falling silent, and one day became completely immobile on his throne. He was still aware of the world, however, aware enough to know that his entire kingdom was beginning to freeze over in dark permafrost. As fleeing Cacaoians were consumed by ice, not even the king’s closest advisers could reach him, until all but the citadel were frozen over. Ever since that day, remaining within the walls has become the new normal for everyone. Licorice creatures roam the streets, and the sea slowly expands beyond the kingdom’s borders. While his servants’ wavering loyalties to him remain, they can only live oblivious to the chaos lurking underneath Frigid Cacao’s shadowed eyes. He is solitary, but soon he will be everywhere; and everywhere will feed the abyss.

He rarely leaves his throne, and all but the First Watcher and a few of his advisors are not allowed into the throne room without summons. Even still, no cookie is allowed to touch him.

While he is stationary most of the time, he is sometimes seen in the hallway or outside in the snow. When he’s outside, on some occasions, he’s seen staring at a frozen Cacaoian, an unreadable expression on his face. Sometimes he touches it, or even kneels.

He rarely shows up to Neobeast meetings, sending the First Watcher instead. However, even those instances are rare, and thus Cacao’s seat in the council chamber is almost always left vacant.

Licorice creatures are always docile around him, and will follow his every command. Cacao’s subjects wonder how…

[TAG]

Celestial Cheese Cookie - Beast of Conquest

It wasn’t enough for Golden Cheese to let go of her kingdom and those within it. No, she didn’t need to cling to desperate hopes until the day she could have her golden city back. She could start right then and there, reviving her kingdom of Abundance into an entire empire, powerful and unstoppable. Not only that, but she could keep going. If the world was her entire oyster, then why not indulge in that fact? Among the desert sands and badlands sits a new and expanding kingdom, touting itself as a safe haven from the ills of the other Beasts. Cookies are encouraged to become part of the empire, contribute to the radiant Sun’s grand design, but she’s aware she’ll have her detractors. Fortunately, they’re all taken care of: she turns them to gold and decides their fate accordingly, whether it be another golden decoration in her palace, an automaton to do her bidding, or another alloy used to forge the weapons of her conquest. And for those who aren’t in her celestial bubble, conquest is all they’ll ever taste.

Her Golden City still exists, kept in an altered state by highly protected servers. The souls still kept within them exist in an in-between state of awake and asleep.

Her appearance changes constantly, especially when presenting herself to others. It’s likely she has avatars of herself, though it’s unknown if her main appearance is her true physical self or yet another one of them.

She can summon countless arms, all with the ability to turn anything to gold. If one arm is cut off, two grow in its place.

She and Dragonberry have a fragile relationship. On some days, they antagonize the other for being a callous conqueror, but on other days, they have the tightest alliance of any beast.

Her eyes frequently shine bright rays of light, making it hard for people to look her in the eye by design. However, her eyes are normal underneath.

[TAG]

THE ORIGINAL BEASTS

The first five fallen heroes, observers of the Neobeast’s rise. They see the new faction of beasts less as new allies and more as obstacles that have made their striving for their soul jam halves more complicated. In turn, the Neobeasts are still interested in defeating them and taking their soul jam halves as well.

Shadow Milk Cookie - Beast of Deceit

As the first Beast to awaken, Shadow Milk was there to see the first four ancients fall to corruption. Believing he could use the despair of Pure Vanilla to acquire his soul jam, his plans were muddled when he became a beast himself. Further still, the body being baked for him was completely destroyed, leaving him a specter in need of another vessel. With his options thin, he’s had to resort to more unconventional means of getting what he wants…

For some ulterior purpose, he’s become Strawberry Crepe Cookie’s benefactor, helping them navigate the world in ways Choco can’t. He sees a common adversary in Saint Vanilla, and claims he needs Crepe’s help in order to defeat him.

It’s unclear if he remembers their name.

Silent Salt Cookie - Beast of Silence

Information TBD. Relevant to Lily Saga

Eternal Sugar Cookie - Beast of Sloth

Information TBD. Relevant to Berry Saga

Has a connection to the protagonist of the saga, might come in after the timeskip.

Mystic Flour Cookie - Beast of Apathy

Information TBD. Relevant to Cacao Saga

What is known is that she views Cacao with more pity than disgust, interested in putting him out of his misery.

Burning Spice Cookie - Beast of Destruction

Information TBD. Relevant to Cheese Saga

Has a connection to Yellow Feather.

THE PROTAGONISTS

Each Beast Ancient has affected someone in some way. The protagonists of their respective sagas grapple with their influence, whether it be to actively fight against them, avoid them at all costs, or seek to understand a deeper plot that leads them right into their hands.

Strawberry Crepe Cookie

Once a magichanical prodigy within the Vanilla Kingdom, Crepe’s sense of safety was shattered the day they became the sole witness to the Beast of Penance’s rise. They escaped with their life but at the cost of their prized headset, leaving them completely defenseless, on the run, and alone. They were eventually found and taken in by the estranged Cacaoian prince, and while they ultimately seek safety together, Crepe’s ingenuity may just carry a key to defeating the Neobeasts; and that fact has not gone unacknowledged by one Beast in particular.

When they ran, they left their headset behind. It had protected them from Saint’s touch, and was the only way they could summon their arms and wafflebots. Before Choco, Crepe had been on the run with nothing to defend themself.

Saint Vanilla is looking for them.

They struggle to stay strong amidst their trauma. They thought they didn’t need anyone, but losing two people who made them feel welcomed made them realize that they had been taking closeness for granted.

[TAG]

Dark Choco Cookie

The missing prince of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, finding his personal redemption. When his father tamed the licorice sea, he was happy but insecure of whether or not his father and the much stronger kingdom truly needed him anymore. Straying far from the mountains, he didn’t know of the fate that would befall his father and the kingdom until he caught wind of the news, which shocked and unnerved him. Deep down he wants to know why his father became a Beast, but with his newfound responsibility in looking after Crepe, he has other priorities. However, the shadow of his father continues to loom over him, and one day, it may finally get to him.

Sometimes he hears the Strawberry Jam Sword calling to him.

He’s hesitant to return to his kingdom.

He’s become crepe’s new guardian of sorts, providing food and warmth for them. Choco also keeps them out of danger while they’re still without their headphones, but he and Crepe are looking for ways for them to defend themself, since he knows they can fight.

[TAG]

Princess & Knight Cookie

Princess was aware of what her family was becoming after her grandmother’s corruption. Complacent, afraid, and submissive under the Beast’s influence, when they were once happy and loving. She yearned for the old days before Hollyberry turned, but she was forced to live in the present, expected to sit and look pretty as her parents were puppetted by Pride. Her tolerance of the new situation could only go so far, and on one fateful night, she donned a cloak and slipped out of the palace, escaping into the dark. Now on the run, she searches for help in taking her kingdom back. Alerted to his princess’s disappearance, Knight Cookie was quick to scramble for her. While he initially tried to convince her to return home, Princess’s headstrong nature ultimately made him choose to stay by he and protect her. At the end of the day, his job is to be her guard…

They are eventually joined by Tiger Lily.

Princess is stronger than she looks, which may have helped her escape Wildberry a couple of times.

There’s no incentive to bring Knight back safe and sound, nor is there any telling what Dragonberry would do to him if it does happen.

[TAG]

Crunchy Chip & Caramel Arrow Cookie

The two had sworn an oath to stand by their king's side to the bitter end. They fought with him as he protected his kingdom from internal collapse. They watched with elation as he brought the Licorice Sea to kneel before them and never threaten the kingdom again. However, when the Beast of Solitude replaced their resolute leader, their vows were put to the test as the kingdom was soon claimed by permafrost. While Crunchy Chip cookie had seen the writing on the wall, Caramel Arrow Cookie remained steadfast even as everyone froze around her. In her desperation to get through to the king, Caramel Arrow Cookie made the mistake of stepping out of line, her arm consumed by ice the moment she reached out to him. Crunchy Chip Cookie was quick to pull her away before she could be frozen entirely, and the two fled into the mountains. Crunchy Chip Cookie has been looking for someone to help bring his confidant back to good health before the frost completely engulfs her, and not only that, but he has been questioning their duties as Cacao’s protectors ever since. If they want to find a way to return their kingdom to normal, what—or who—might they need?

Caramel Arrow Cookie is unconscious most of the time, but she experiences lapses of consciousness, especially when around a heat source. Crunchy Chip’s cream wolves will huddle around her to keep her warm.

The two are looking for someone with deep knowledge of ice, whether it be an ordinary cookie or an elemental who could hold the answer to everything.

[TAG]

Yellow Feather Cookie

In the middle of a harsh golden desert, a single cookie awoke among the sands. She carried no memory of how she got there, much less who she was before. Vague memories of sprawling skylines and illustrious lights dotted behind her eyes, but she couldn’t fathom what they meant. She wandered aimlessly through the dunes until she was found by a friendly team of cookies working under the Celestial Cheese’s exploration and research collective. Given the name Yellow Feather Cookie, she was brought into their fold as a member; but even with her new name and new friends, the burning question of what happened to her still remains painfully unanswered. And when the amnesiac cookie experiences strange phenomena like glitches, digital aberrations, and foreboding visions of a cookie with burning red eyes, it only drives her further to learn the truth.

She is an iteration of Rich Cheese Cookie, a concept cookie for CRK who was ultimately scrapped. Unlike her concept version, Feather is neither a child nor Celestial Cheese’s daughter.

The few memories she has are of the Golden City, which little to none of her cohorts have heard of. They usually assume she’s referring to the kingdom itself.

She doesn’t know who or what the Beasts are, let alone the Ancients. She knows there is a world beyond the kingdom, but her knowledge comes from word of mouth and books she’s read. Perhaps it explains why she’s not alarmed by the visions she gets.

[TAG]

[Lily Saga Protagonists TBA]

SIDE CHARACTERS

These are all the known side characters. More will be added later.

SIDE PROTAGONISTS

Clotted Cream Cookie

The Consul of the Crème Republic, one of the last large safe havens present in Earthbread. With his former allies turning into adversaries, he has had to lead the resistance against the forces of darkness largely by himself. It’s caused a lot of stress for him, but he has tried to retain his strength as much as possible for the sake of his people, even as the walls slowly close in.

Gingerbrave

Has been assisting the resistance in the Crème Republic, working closely with Clotted Cream, the other councilors, and his own friends. While he nervously worries about and for the ancients, he retains his focus on helping those in need in the city, encouraging them to stay brave. He’s become a beacon of optimism among the nervous masses.

Custard Cookie III

The Nephew of Clotted Cream Cookie and close friend of Gingerbrave. After Pure Vanilla’s corruption, he questioned his aspirations to be king. He’s done everything he can to help his uncle’s people while learning about what it truly means to be a leader.

Madeleine Cookie

The Knight Commander of the Crème Republic. Despite everything that’s happened to him and his people, he’s retained his smile and his courage as best as he can. However, a tall shadow hangs over him.

Tiger Lily Cookie

A cookie who has lived in the jungle her whole life, watching from the brush as the Hollyberry Kingdom shifted under the new beast. She finds Princess and Knight while they’re on the run, and joins their party as a guide. Neither her nor her long lost sister are aware of their connection to one another.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie

Chained deep underneath the Hollyberry palace, the Red Dragon is the beast’s highest profile prisoner. To further her mission to become a dragon, they are researched and experimented on day in and day out, while Dragonberry sometimes stops to play twisted games with them. Such include dragging them out to fights, sparring like old friends, or giving them the illusion that they’ll ever have a chance to escape her.

Wind Archer Cookie

Sworn to vanquish the darkness no matter the cost, he has made it his mission to bring an end to all ten beasts who threaten Earthbread. However, some of his beliefs in how to defeat them conflict with the protagonists’, and if he sees anyone as obstacles in the way of his mission, including them, they will need to be cleared.

[Post for Princess, Pitaya, Crepe, Chip, Carrow]

SIDE ANTAGONISTS

Wildberry Cookie

Dragonberry’s right hand and loyal bodyguard, who has retained his sworn oath to be by her side since before her corruption. Where Dragonberry is bold and valorous, Wildberry is cold and lethal, dealing with the Beast’s messes lest she chooses to involve herself in them. Even though he is aware of what his kingdom has become, his loyalty to his adoptive mother keeps him at her side. He was in charge of monitoring his rambunctious niece when she was in the palace, steering her away from her grandmother’s personal matters; but on the night she ran away, he had discovered her plot far too late. Dragonberry has ordered him to track her down and retrieve her, and no matter how many times she escapes him, he will never let up until his duty is fulfilled.

First (Second) Watcher Cookie

After Caramel Arrow’s departure, the Second Watcher was appointed to the new First Watcher. When the Neobeasts hold meetings, he is sometimes sent in Cacao’s stead. More information TBA

Cream Wafer Cookie

The right hand of Saint Vanilla, bishop of the Lambs of Penance. He is in charge of all of the cult’s operations, aiding in fulfilling his lord’s wishes. Saint Vanilla himself has little involvement in the operations beyond certain rituals and appearances, as the bishop and his followers do everything for him in his stead. It gives the beast time to walk the world by himself, dedicating time to the affairs of the other Neobeasts among other personal goals. Despite preaching peace, love, and pacifism, there’s a gleefully dark glint in his eyes when pain is delivered in the name of the light.

Like Saint Vanilla, Wafer uses a vanilla orchid as a wand. However, he can’t see through it; instead, it’s used to mark souls for purification, drawing the beast’s attention to whoever gazed into the flower.

Before Saint, he was likely from the Crème Republic.

Holy Dart Cookie

The lambs’ best marksman and surveillance operator. Once a sister of the Pastry Order, she found a new name and purpose under Cream Wafer, and serves him in the name of Saint Vanilla. Because the Beast frowns on the notion of killing, the darts she uses to snipe from the shadows merely tranquilize; it’s the only thing keeping her from being regarded as one of the most dangerous assassins to wield the bow. Her knowledge of the world around her makes her formidable; since she wears her honorary bandages, her senses are incredibly keen, and she can tell where her target is from the slightest noise or change in the air. Victims of her darts are taken back to the lambs themselves, for whatever purpose the bishop has sought for them.

OTHERS

Black Raisin Cookie

Pure Vanilla’s old friend and Strawberry Crepe Cookie’s found guardian figure. She had been by the ancient’s side as he declined, doing everything she could to ensure he remained hopeful. However, not even her kindness was enough to save him. One day, she was embraced by the light, leaving nothing but her raisin crows behind. Many of them now follow Crepe around.

Espresso Cookie

Strawberry Crepe Cookie’s lab partner who entrusted an important journal for them to keep.

Silverbell Cookie

One of Midnight Lily’s closest friends and guards. Despite his loyalty to her, he’s been quietly questioning the state of his kingdom under her.

The Triple Cone Trio - TBD

The Legendaries - TBD

NOTE: As of current update, the whereabouts of the Cookies of Darkness are still TBD.

THE STORYLINE

NOTE: The official timeline of BAAU is a long way from being finalized. However, the AU takes place across a vast stretch of time, so there are plot points and elements that happen before and after a time jump. It’s unclear when BAAU properly begins, but there has been a gap in time long enough for the Neobeasts�� presences to have become the new normal for Earthbread.

The Vanilla Saga - The storyline that revolves around Saint Vanilla Cookie.

Features Strawberry Crepe and Dark Choco as the main protagonists. This is considered the “main” storyline.

The Berry Saga - The storyline that revolves around Dragonberry Cookie.

Features Princess, Knight, Tiger Lily, and later Pitaya as the protagonists. They are traveling Earthbread while evading Wildberry and the Hollyberrian guards sent after them.

The Cacao Saga - The storyline that revolves around Frigid Cacao Cookie.

Featues Crunchy Chip, Caramel Arrow, and later Dark Choco as the protagonists. They are searching for a cure for Carrow’s permafrost injury, which may also be the way to heal the entire Dark Cacao Kingdom. However, there may be someone they need to find—but who knows if he is the key to helping them, or an instrument that will make everything much, much worse.

The Cheese Saga - The storyline that revolves around Celestial Cheese Cookie.

Features Yellow Feather as the protagonist. The story follows her as she seeks to recover her lost memories and remember who she is, drawing her into the battle between the beasts of Destruction and Conquest. One of them is hiding a secret, the other is hiding a truth.

The Lily Saga - The storyline that revolves around Midnight Lily Cookie.

Features two protagonists who are to be revealed in the future.

THE WORLD

The Kingdoms of the Beasts

The Vanilla Kingdom

Founded, destroyed, rebuilt, cleansed: when Penance awakened, his light awoke in every corner of his kingdom, and sparkling dust drifted through the air like a sea of stars. Now, the kingdom has become the base of operations for the Beast and his loyal followers, many of them descendants of his royal subjects. No one else but them live here anymore; in some places, it’s easy to think it’s a ghost town. However, the moment one steps through the gate, they will always have the feeling of being watched. The Council Hall is the primary room where the Neobeasts gather for meetings, but the unsettling feeling never leaves the others.

The Hollyberry Kingdom

Things about this kingdom have changed in ways ranging from subtle to drastic. Its lively culture of partying and drinking have remained, imbued with a bigger emphasis on strength and battles. No place is this more apparent than the coliseum that hosts events every week, where the strongest warriors from across the kingdom and the ones captured outside it are brought to fight each other for the amusement of the Beast and her citizens. On special occasions, the Red Dragon themself is brought out for her to show off and subsequently defeat - another one of her mind games that keeps them subservient.

The Dark Cacao Kingdom

Choked by blizzards and permafrost, it’s hard to navigate through the tundra the Beast of Solitude has made the place. Licorice creatures skulk the kingdom’s snowy plains and the frozen streets. Most Cacaoians have been frozen where they stood the day the frost consumed their homes, but those who survived live within the Citadel itself, the last haven where all the Beast’s servants and warriors remain. They are hesitantly loyal to their King, believing he will someday wake up from whatever nightmare plagues his mind; until then, they remain unaware of the darkness and hunger that lingers beneath the seams.

The Celestial Kingdom

Even those who antagonize the Beast regard her kingdom as a desert miracle. Celestial Cheese revitalized her kingdom, spreading it across the desert and beyond and welcoming anyone and everyone into its fold. Some even regard it as a safe haven in itself: it’s guarded by warriors made of gold, flanked by advanced proximity sensors. Those the Beast of Conquest doesn’t want, such as Lambs or Hollyberrian spies, are warded away before they can pass through the walls. Life feels normal, like a dream even, for all of the cookies who live there: cookies who once belonged to their own villages and settlements in the desert, now taken in by the Beast and given everything they wanted and more. It keeps them happy, it makes them believe that her conquest is just—and it keeps them oblivious to what happens to those who refuse to be conquered. Those who reject her grand design end up part of it, one way or another; and next to no trace of them or their settlement survives.

Some of the residents in Cheese’s kingdom include Cacaoians who managed to escape during the great freeze.

The Silver Kingdom

Isolated from the rest of the world. Through the hostile, deadly forest that protects its borders, and indeed much of the safest entries to Beast Yeast, lies a kingdom ever at work. Ordinary silver fae live most of their days doing what they’ve always done, caring for themselves and their kingdom in whatever duty they have. Under the Beast of Sovereignty, their individuality freedom is as valued as their devotion to her. From ordinary fae to Silver Tree knights, they are as dedicated to the kingdom’s protection as they are their queen. While she is no conqueror, her kingdom is expanding its reach through its spreading flora, kudzu-like walls that overrun and choke anything and anyone it reaches. Others living in Beast Yeast have become increasingly aware of the Silver Kingdom’s presence, but direct means to either negotiate or attack the fae have been unsuccessful. On the other side of the world, Crispians like those in the Creme Republic have failed to reach the continent, its ships struck out of the sea and sky by vines and plants. Many cookies who venture near there are never seen again.

The Safe Havens

The Crème Republic

One of the two largest safe havens in Crispia. Maintained by the Convocation of Elders, the republic’s internal differences have been mostly set aside as they unify under the need for stability and safety. In the shadow of the Beasts, there is only so much they can do to remain out of harm’s way, but the Elders and the Consul know that they will one day have to fight. Until then, the Republic has prioritized its citizens’ safety, harboring and maintaining contact with resistance groups, and researching any way to end the threat of the fallen heroes.

Parfaedia

Protected by high walls, this city has stood vigilant against outside enemies since the time of legend. However, the Beasts pose its biggest threat yet: housing ancient research and relics, Parfaedia has no doubt drawn the attention of a few of them. It remains in close contact with the Creme Republic, and the two cities share information and updates about anything related to the Beasts, their movements, or internal affairs that require assistance. Both are also aware that the third magical city, Scovilia, once part of their triple alliance, cries for help underneath its new ruler. Both cities strive to liberate it one day, but they need to prioritize keeping all citizens and refugees within their borders safe.

Others

Scovilia and Dragon’s Valley

Annexed into the Hollyberry Kingdom’s expanding territory. Dragon’s Valley in particular is the site of Hollyberrian dragon research, and the Beast has made it a pastime to frequent the place and quash any revolt before it has the chance to grow. Dragonberry is very fond of Scovilia in particular, its strongest champion added to her collection of gladiators.

The existence of the Cookie Kingdom is still being decided, as it has little importance to the game’s story.

EXTRA

MISC POSTS

The very first BAAU post [original neobeast references]

Full picture of the masterpost banner

Average neobeast meeting [meme]

All I Ever Wanted [animatic]

X reader headcanons

TAG LIST [for easier access]

Main tag

Askbox tag

Fanart tag

Fanfic tag

Old Masterlist [Includes links to more specific asks/questions]

Old FAQ

Creator’s note: Thanks for reading!! If any of the links above do not work, please let me know. -CJJ

#beast ancients au #temporary pinned #special thanks to the vanillaverse crew for proofreading!#beast ancients au masterpost #masterpost #crk au #cookie run au #cookie run kingdom au #cr au #cjj arts #cookie run #crk #cookie run kingdom

716 notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

Note

ooo just in general who do you like in got/hotd? you mentioned aemond but I'm curious lolz

Spoilers for both GOT/HOTD! Don't read if you aren't caught up with either series!

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, incest, GOT/HOTD in general

♡ fem reader

My favorite character, above all else, is Ramsey. If I get really into writing for this universe, he's definitely gonna be one of my regulars. I love him. So much yandere potential. And he's terrifying. Paired with his little pet Theon. Mmmh. Ramsey makes him lick all the wounds he inflicts on you. Tugs his cock to the sight of it. Cums on you both. Tying you up on the Bolton cross, he makes Theon kneel between your legs to lick your clit until you pass out. You're both his little pets.

Joffrey was also one of my favorites, but I don't know if I could write for him. I find it hard to imagine him being sexual. I'll have to think about that one.

Tommen, on the other hand! Yes, please. Virginal goodie-two-shoes with the power of a King. Yes, God. You may think he's harmless, but no, though a different breed, he's a little psycho, just like his brother. And you're just a poor chambermaid doing your job. He'll apologize when his arousal gets the better of him. But the stress gets to him, you know? It's not easy being the new King. All this responsibility, the realm in shambles, threats to his life left and right. You'll be good for him, won't you? Obey him and let him use you to blow off some steam—you can do that for him, can't you?

The Hound, or Sandor Clegane, is also one of my favorites. Massive and strong as all hell. He has a moral compass, but he doesn't care how he goes about following it. And the journey's long, and the ground is rough, and the night is cold, and he's had to fight twice already to keep you safe. So just shut up and let him make use of you. It's not as if he can't tell you're enjoying it as his fat cock drills your tight cunt. You make all his clothes wet with how much you soak. So don't bother lying.

Jamie and Cersei are also hot. Thinking about being their younger sister. How awfully possessive they are of you. Bringing you to bed with them. Telling you it's only right for family to stick together. How your big sister uses her pretty finger to prep you before Jamie fills your snug cunt up. They coo as you fuss—insisting it's right while making you cum for them.

Tywin is even better. You're his youngest daughter, but he fucks you like you're a common whore and tells you he loves you the most. He'll rant about how immoral the other three are and make you promise you'll never become like them—that you'll stay his good girl and do what he tells you without ever questioning him.

Tormund. He picks you as his wife, and you have absolutely no say in the matter. Scrawny little wildlings that can't even hunt for themselves have no rights. You'll keep him warm in the cold night, and he'll provide for you. Of course, his stamina makes it no easy arrangement. Making you squeal until your out of breath and then some.

Littlefinger. You're a new bird in his brothel, and he's decided you're worth training himself. Yes, he'll teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a man. Make you accept you're nothing but his whore, eager to do everything he tells you without hesitation. A subservient and devoted little slave to your master.

Bronn. If his gold coins can't buy you, he isn't a stranger to getting the things he wants in other immoral ways. Threatening your pretty neck with his knife actually only makes his cock harder. Don't worry. He'll leave you the gold coins anyway.

One of my favorite characters from HOTD is Ser Otto Hightower. What an unbelievably scummy old man! He has you tied up in his bed and doesn't even allow you to wash off his filth without his presence. He's taking all your holes for himself. After all, he's a noble tied into the Royal family, and you, a lowly servant, are his property. Just as he makes use of a washcloth, he'll make use of you. There is no difference.

Ser Criston Cole, as well, uses his gold cloak to make threats. If you know what's best for you, you'll strip on his command, kneel at his feet, and kiss his silver boots before he loses patience.

You obviously try your best to avoid King Aegon. Any pretty chambermaid might be his next victim. And you know, if anyone finds out what he does to you, you'll be the one who's banished from the castle, not him. And that's why, when he has you pressed against his bed, cock already tearing through your tight cunt, you don't say a word. Keeping quiet, you allow him to do whatever he wants each and every time, and then you go about just as silently as if nothing had happened. And that's why you're his favorite. You know your place, and you never forget it.

Larys freaks me the fuck out, but... Allowed little power elsewhere, he makes certain to exercise the vast depth of his power-hunger with you. Yet in the most unorthodox and gross ways possible. Playing with your feet while you cry for him to stop. He looks at you with the most innocent eyes while protruding his tongue, licking your soles slowly before closing his mouth around your toes and sucking fiercely while tonguing the gaps.

Aemond. So much potential here. You're a dragon keeper and one of the very few Vhagar allows in close without burning. You have no idea if it's the dragon or its rider that likes you first. All you know is that Aemond's grip is strong as he takes you hard against the rough old scales of the largest dragon in the world.

Daemon. There's a sadness in his you don't dare provoke. Shivering as you do what he tells you, in all hope it can soothe the dragon within him before it decides to burn you. He can be gentle at times. If you approach carefully enough. But most of the time, he's got trouble in his mind and only one outlet.

#so basically all the characters #except the starks for some reason #they're too moral for my taste #got #game of thrones #got smut #game of thrones smut #hotd smut #hotd #house of the dragon #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #smut

287 notes · View notes

aphroditelovesu · 7 months ago

Text

Yan!Alexander the Great w/ Soldier's Pregnant Widow!Reader

❝ 📜 — lady l: this is a commission that I was very happy to do! I'm sorry for the delay, I confess that I had forgotten this in my drafts and only remembered it after reading your messagem, anon! I hope you enjoy it and, as requested, it is more based on Alexander's feelings for the Reader. Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: mention of death, mourning. pregnancy and fluff.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

You were the wife of one of Alexander's cavalry soldiers who, unlike many other soldiers' wives, decided to accompany him to war. You loved your husband deeply and did not want to be separated from him.

Your husband also loved you deeply. He wasn't a general or a high-ranking officer, but your husband tried to make you as comfortable as possible in this violent environment. He was loyal to you, something rare but one you appreciated. You loved him with everything in you.

Until the day you lost him. During the Battle of Granicus, your husband died in battle and your world collapsed. You had lost the man you loved and it felt like an endless road. Alexander, being the beloved King that he was, buried the dead soldiers with the necessary honors and spoke to the wives present in the camp. And one of them was you.

Alexander was immediately enchanted by you. He was surprised at how you handled your grief, clearly you loved your husband very much and the pain of the loss you felt captivated him. He didn't take long to approach you subtly at first.

Alexander was kind and protective, offering his condolences and staying by your side. His words were kind and his discreet smiles were reserved just for you. More observant people didn't take long to notice the King's interest in you, but they never dared to say anything, not when they knew his temperament.

You found yourself lost in a sea of pain and sadness, unable to find comfort in anything around you. Alexander's comforting presence was like an anchor in the midst of the storm, offering support and compassion in such a dark time. He understood your pain as he had also lost soldiers close to him.

Alexander felt compelled to protect and care for you, not only out of gratitude for your husband's sacrifice, but also because he genuinely cared for you. His discreet smiles and kind gestures were an attempt to ease your pain, to be a ray of light amid the darkness you faced.

Although you fought your feelings, you found yourself enjoying the King's presence. But you soon discovered that you were pregnant by your late husband and you decided to focus on honoring your husband's memory and focusing on the baby growing inside you.

Alexander didn't like it at all when you tried to move away from him but he soon understood why. He wasn't angry or anything, but surprised and slightly bothered. You would have a child, something he wanted, but it wouldn't be with him. He couldn't blame you, though, it wasn't your fault.

As time passed, your belly grew and the pain of loss lessened, you found yourself more and more involved in the camp's activities, keeping yourself busy to keep away the thoughts that haunted you at night. And you found yourself increasingly close to Alexander, who made his feelings for you very clear.

He respected the fact that you weren't ready to get married due to the fact that you were pregnant, he could wait until the baby was born. But he wasn't far from you, spending his free time by your side while also taking care of you. You owned your own tent and personal effects, along with those of your late husband.

In time, your husband's child was born, and you held it in your arms with love and sadness. It was a part of him you would carry forever, a living reminder of the man you loved so much. Alexander was present and he acted as if your child were his. He didn't even like it when people mentioned it wasn't his.

You were his and your baby was his too. Alexander was skeptical about it at first but he warmed up to the idea. The mourning period is over and your child has been born, now it is time for you to become his wife and have children of his own.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere headcanons #headcanons #soft yandere #commission #x reader

650 notes · View notes

myownwholewildworld · 20 days ago

Text

THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE

↪ a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover

main masterlist | read on ao3 | easter eggs pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story. a/n: HAHAHA *manic laugh* HI! this has been a long time coming now. first and foremost, i'll start by saying that this whole brainrot was inspired by this beautiful moodboard by the very talented @almostfoxglove, please go see it because it's the main reason i wrote this fic. i have gone crazy trying to link both worlds so i hope some of you see/understand the easter eggs. feel free to come screech at me if you like it because i have been screaming into the abyss for weeks now. love you all, take care! <3 x warnings/tags (beware spoilers): 18+, mdni. set after the events of S2. grogu is BRIEFLY mentioned. if you're a SW purist, this ain't your fic, my friend. the stockholm syndrome is stockholming. beast!din. a fair bit of smut (you know all the usual warnings). sensory deprivation. kinda dom!din. monster fucking (this is a BATB crossover after all, sorry). death of a secondary character. reader is a blank slate. alternating pov. no use of y/n. italics means it's spoken in mando'a OR it's the beast's pov 👀 THIS IS THE WAY. w/c: ~24.3k. (HAHA SORRY) divider by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end 💖

11 ABY

“Take it with you. Don’t let anyone hav―” your father choked on his last words, a chesty cough wreaking havoc in his damp, bloody lungs. “It’ll take you to where you need to go. Find it. And destroy it,” he muttered as his grey eyes, crowned by bushy, white brows, bore into yours.

In your hands you held the device that had been passed down every generation in your family. It had been commissioned by Tarre Vizsla himself over a thousand years ago when he created the Darksaber ― a Pillio star compass to find not a physical location but his most valuable possession. For almost a millennium, your family had been the guardians of it.

And for as many centuries, your Jedi ancestors had been looking for the Darksaber after they had stolen the star compass from Vizsla. That Jedi blood was far too diluted now, just a remnant of what your family once was since none of you seemed to be Force sensitive. But the mission remained despite the passing of time, not so much the reason behind it.

Since your birth, this was all you knew: the thrill of the chase. Never settling down anywhere, never creating bonds with anyone outside of your tribe. You all were wanderers ― nomads who made home of no world. You knew no other life. It was what it was.

The Jedi star compass fit perfectly on the palm of your hand ― it was circular and slightly bigger than a locket. This one though was different, special even, because it was made of beskar, a metal alloy from Mandalore.

Your fingers caressed the lid, tracing the astromeridian lines with the tips, feeling each groove. Undoing the aurodium clasp, you opened the compass to find a plasma-encased supraluminite lodestone, perfectly centred. The plasma in this specific one, however, was not of a shimmering blue, but a deep, stagnant black. Its magnetism was so strong it buzzed, emitting a low vibrating noise.

You tapped the stone with your thumb, and the vibration pierced through your flesh and bone, travelling up your forearm and dissipating into your body before it reached your chest. You quickly removed your thumb, taken aback by the intensity of it all, eyes slightly widened.

“But father, you heard them. It’s already been destroyed. It’s over,” you whispered, tears trespassing the waterline of your tired eyes.

“They lie. Never trust one of them. Those power-thirsty ra―,” he coughed, pressing the wound that stained his clothing to stop the bleeding. You covered his hand with one of yours, the other still holding the compass. “I know we were close, we had to be. Promise me you’ll keep looking.”

“I promise, father,” you hushed, repressing the sob that threatened to tear your throat.

You laced your hand with his, unbothered by the blood, as you watched his eyes become dull, opaque and dead. His lungs exhaled the last breath while the grip of his hand on yours loosened.

You remained there for a few minutes, pain and grief gnawing at you, knelt by his deathbed, tinkering with the Pillio star compass. With your mother taken from you at childbirth and now your father perishing to an enemy, you had no blood relatives left. You were alone, stripped from the comfort of family.

You still had your tribe, but your connection to them was circumstantial. You grew up in their midst, but always felt like an outsider, a misfit who people felt forced to interact with because you were “the daughter of.”

It didn’t matter anyway.

You might not have known why your family kept on looking for the Darksaber, but now you knew why you had to search for it. It was your father’s last wish and that was enough reason for you.

“We must go,” Ashton’s voice reached your ears, but not your brain.

When you didn’t respond, he slowly approached you, kneeling by your side.

“Hey, I know this is hard, but we are really running out of time,” his firm arm wrapped around your waist to help you stand up.

Your knees trembled like a newborn qartuum but managed to stay upright on the soles of your feet. Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“We need to leave Nevarro. It’s just a matter of time until our covert is discovered. They’ll come looking for him,” your head tilted in your father’s direction, voice flat and emotionless now. Stretching your back, you put distance between you and Ashton. “You find somewhere safe in the Outer Rim to lay low for a while. I need to see this done once and for all.”

“This what, exactly? You heard the same thing I did. Gideon crushed it. It’s over. We can finally live our own lives, find a home, settle down,” he muttered, a gloved hand looking for yours yet not finding it. He sounded so hopeful.

“I know what we heard. But my father… he thinks― thought it may be a ruse. I have to try, Ash. I can’t just leave this life behind, as if everything I’ve done has meant absolutely nothing,” you replied between gritted teeth, frustrated.

“Don’t waste any more years of your life on a wild goose chase, please. Let’s go back to the others. We can―” his hand finally found yours, lacing your fingers.

You looked down at your intertwined hands. It just felt odd, out of place even. Ashton was nothing more than a brother in arms to you.

You shook your head no, pulling your hand from his, breaking the contact, and looked at him directly in the eyes.

“No, Ash. There’s no “we” here. You do what you must, and so will I, simple as,” you rejected the unspoken offer, seeing the hurt consuming his blue eyes.

“What makes you think you can do this alone? Thousands of people have tried for centuries,” he quickly tried a different tactic, but his reproach unfazed you. “Let me come with you at least.”

“No. Our people need you to lead them into this new lifestyle, Ashton,” you refused, not even giving his proposal a second thought. “And you just made it clear, this is not the life you want, but it’s the one I do. Now go.”

Ashton pressed his lips together in frustration, gobsmacked by your bluntness. He’ll be fine, he’ll recover, you thought to yourself when you saw the pain of your rejection finally dawning on him.

“Have it your way then,” and with that, he left.

The compass weighed heavy on your hand and in your heart. But you couldn’t afford distractions nor being delayed by people. Not this time.

19 ABY

Weeks turned into months. And months into years. Eight, to be exact.

The passage of time was unfaltering, but so was your determination. Despite the many dead ends, the several disappointments and the near misses, you never stopped looking for the Darksaber.

There were days, however, that it all felt like an impossible task, that you truly believed that Moff Gideon had destroyed it. You couldn’t accept it though, not when you had spent eight more years hunting it down. It still had to exist. Right?

It was hard keeping the spirits up with no company to hear you vent your frustration. You had started talking out loud to yourself, your voice bouncing off the metal walls of your spacecraft.

Some days you regretted rejecting Ashton’s offer. The man had been nothing but kind to you, loyal too. You had your suspicions about his true intentions, but you never really saw him as anything more than a friend. You hoped that after all this time, he would have found someone who reciprocated him. Ash was a good man and deserved better than what you could have offered him. What you both wanted were two completely different things, incompatible ― he wanted a quiet life, you had preferred an adventurous one.

Given the same option today, however, you were not so sure of what you would have chosen.

Toying with the star compass, you looked through the windshield of the cockpit. Jumping through hyperspace at the speed of light always put you at ease ― the flashing of light as you passed through it left a rainbow of blue hues. The static noise was so calming, you relaxed into your seat.

Your attention returned to the device on your hand. Opening it again, you eagerly watched the metal semicircle twinkle, reflecting off the colours from the Hydian Way. It had not moved for a while, so you had set the course in the direction it pointed towards.

Unsure of the way it was taking you to, you had learnt to just let it take you where it pleased. Like a bantha following its herd on the vast, arid lands of Tatooine, your life for the past eight years had been reduced to following the hands of the star compass, and nothing else. And now, like every single time before, you would wind up in the middle of the great wide somewhere. Or nowhere.

Even if your eyes hadn’t been lazily transfixed on the lodestone, you could not have missed the louder buzzing it was emitting. You rapidly sat up on your seat, your thumb hovering over the stone while your heart jolted up to your throat. As the humming increased, the black plasma inside swirled and radiated a white, shimmering glow.

Only once had you seen it do something like that before, right before finding out that the Darksaber was supposedly destroyed by Gideon. You thought yourself so close to your objective in a stroke of sheer luck, you all had rushed towards the direction it marked and found absolutely nothing.

With blood drumming in your eardrums and heartrate spiking, you faced the panel of your starfighter and touched a few buttons in a trained dance of movements. Then you pulled a lever, and a sudden jerking motion stopped the spaceship on its tracks, easing out of hyperspace.

Back flattened against the back of your padded seat, you squinted your eyes to see where you were. It took you a good moment to recognise the worlds in front of you. But that couldn’t be, made no sense at all. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at the scope in front of you.

No, you were not mistaken. That was Mandalore and one of its moons, Concordia. The compass was vibrating so loud now, you had to close the lid to contain it. Did a double take on the scope, then back out to space.

You knew the story of what had happened here fifteen years ago ― Mandalore had become uninhabitable after the Night of the Thousand Tears. The Empire had made sure of it by brute force and unfair use of fusion bombs and rays, which reportedly left the surface of the planet crystallised and its atmosphere poisoned. No one who had ventured had ever returned, or so the legend went.

The compass hummed louder, still pressed between your hands, as if compelling you to decide, and to do it now. It couldn’t be that the Darksaber had found its way back to its homeworld. It completely defied common sense, the laws of space itself.

Concordia, on the other hand, was more promising, you thought. The best choice out of the worst possible options. Safest too. Probably.

Setting course towards the moon, the spacecraft slowly trudged forward. A loud sputtering sound coming from the thrusters almost made you jump, quickly followed by the incessant beeping sound of an alarm.

“Thrusters stabilizers compromised. Negative power couplers overheating,” the robotic, monotonous voice advised you.

Then your astromech droid, a yellow trimmed R3-D3 unit, started screeching so loud through your headset, you had to remove them.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, taking complete manual control of the helm.

If the couplers didn’t cool down, you only had minutes until these completely overheated, causing an explosion.

Weighing your options, you let go of an expletive. Mandalore was closer, but you feared that the moment you entered its atmosphere, your starfighter, and you inside it, would combust to death. Concordia was further, which meant the possibility of exploding before reaching it was very high.

You were fucked either way. Both were evils, none the lesser.

“Alor (boss), something has entered the atmosphere,” Nau’ul, his protocol droid, announced in perfect Mando’a, with a metal finger pointing out the window.

Din’s brows knitted together, not that anyone could see with his helmet on. His attention drifted to the direction Nau’ul was indicating. The wrinkles between his eyes pronounced as his head tilted.

A small spaceship had breached the atmosphere of Mand’alor, appearing through the greyish clouds with a burning tail following it as it rapidly plummeted towards the surface, leaving a smoky halo behind.

With muscles tensed, Din got up from the chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to catch a better glimpse of the type of aircraft that dared to break his peace.

It couldn’t be the New Republic, and he hoped to hell it wasn’t an Imperial ship either. Everyone thought Mand’alor was a thing of the past, a barren planet harbouring no life.

He had thought so too before finding himself adrift in space, injured within inches of his own death. Crippled as he was, his Razor Crest survived the bumpy ride and even bumpier landing, all thanks to the droids aboard. The same droids that had managed to nurse him back to health. Or, close to, anyway.

Through the visor of his damaged helmet, Din eagerly saw the spaceship disappear between the dense foliage and slab stones, nearby the Mines. He waited and hoped to see a column of dense smoke towering above the vegetation, but that vision never materialised. There had been no crash, at least not a major one. Which meant that, whoever was commandeering the ship, had probably survived.

“Fuck. Where’s Mrs. Kri’gee?” he turned around to face Nau’ul.

The protocol droid lifted his arms above his head, running towards the door, panicking.

“Mrs. Kri’gee! Mrs. Kri’gee! Where are you? You’re urgently needed! Report immediately!” the high pitch tone of his robotic voice almost pierced his eardrum.

Din stuck a gloved fingertip in his ear canal and wiggled it to ease the pressure building up in there. Nau’ul was too dramatic and too loud for being a mere droid.

He had not even turned the corner into the main hallway of his decrepit abode, that Mrs. Kri’gee appeared in front of them. Nau’ul got the jumpscare of his life, one of his hands landing on the metal breast piece where a heart should be had he been truly human.

“Mrs. Kri’gee reporting, jatne vod (sir),” replied the IG-series assassin droid, one of her hands flying to her temple to salute him. “How can I be of service?”

“We seem to have visitors. Follow me, gedet’ye (please),” and with no further ado, Din walked almost blindly through the maze of corridors, then down the lift, until the cold breeze greeted him.

The temperature outside was almost freezing, especially in winter. This winter was chillier than usual too, so Din and his droids only came out when it was strictly necessary. Even after all this time, it still surprised him how glacial it was out there. With not even a tiny patch of skin uncovered, Din could still feel the biting cold clinging onto his beskar armour, seeping in through the smallest nook it could find. It could clutch around the bones easily, freezing you in place in a matter of minutes.

Not that he could tell the difference anyway, considering how fucking cold he felt under his skin. How icy it was inside of him, a never-ending snowstorm waging war on his numb heart.

Perhaps he shouldn’t hurry ― if he slowed down enough, and with a bit of luck, the unwanted guests might perish to the unforgiving cold of wintery Mand’alor.

With Mrs. Kri’gee on his heels, Din moved through the terrain as if he was one with it. After many years, he knew the topography as if it was the palm of his hand. Where he could step and where he couldn’t. What paths to avoid at specific times, and which ones were safe to hike, always mindful of the creatures who had withstood the Great Purge.

He might not have many things, but free time was definitely one of them, which allowed him to explore this world he had called home for the last eight years. There weren’t many pastimes in Mand’alor when he was the only human inhabiting it. Maybe that was why he had renamed the droids with more human-like names, to feel less lonely ― only if he could truly feel something.

The emptiness within him had only grown with every passing year on the planet. The curse that ran through his veins had slowly overtaken him, leaving an ever-growing void in his chest. Din could not remember the last time he felt anything ― joy, contempt, happiness, anger, hope, despair. Nothing.

He was an empty carcass, a non-sentient monster merely existing. Sometimes he wondered what the point of it all was, not because of an emotional response but because of pure boredom. But then his eyes would fall on the source of his misfortune, a brutal reminder of how he came to be where he stood, and the lingering questions would vanish. This was the way, his way.

And if that wasn’t enough, he also had to deal with the other side of the coin.

Din trudged along the faded path, now overridden by vegetation, to the Mines. His magnetised boots helped him find his footing more than once, sharp and loose rocks making it difficult to remain vertical. Mrs. Kri’gee, on the other hand, had no issues whatsoever.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination near the Mines, close to a cliff. The lush bushes and thick trees blocked the sight at first, but Din found the perfect spot to stalk the unwelcomed visitors. Down on his knees and through a gap between the leaves, he made out the shape of a T-65B X-wing starfighter ― a pretty old one, at least twenty years old. It could have well served during the Galactic Civil War.

The starfighter could only carry the pilot and an astromech droid, which meant he only had to deal with one sentient being. Could have been worse, Din thought. The prospect of being found didn’t sit well with him though, unsure of why this person had found themselves stranded in Mand’alor, out of all the fucking planets in the Outer Rim.

The Mandalorian tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the person on the other side of the ship ― they were sat on a flat rock with their back towards him, knees propped up, elbows placed on them and crouched forwards. Din stuck his head out just enough to look over their shoulder, good eye squinting ― there was an astromech droid lying in front of them. By the looks of it, it had been fried to death, still sparkling and smoking a little.

Mrs. Kri’gee laid low behind him, still but ready to accept a command. Din waved a couple of signs to the IG-series assassin droid, and it moved silently, gracefully as a loth-cat, to reposition itself northwards, facing the target.

The Mandalorian kept his fist closed, indicating Mrs. Kri’gee to wait, when he saw the person standing up, removing their helmet and taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. It was the side profile of a woman in a bright orange spacesuit, human as far as he could tell. Din’s eyebrows furrowed under the visor, confused as to what could possibly have guided her to this inhospitable planet.

Perhaps he had been alone for too long, only the droids keeping him company for almost a decade, but the sight of you unsettled him. Had he been able to feel something, he was sure an uncomfortable weight would have grounded his stomach.

Kaysh cuyi mesh’la (she is beautiful), he thought ― a simple, objective observation a man could make with only half a vision.

Your hair shined even when the sky was gloomy; your big, bright eyes sparked with frustration; your plump lips fell into a flat line before smacking them with disapproval at your wasted andromech droid. Your fingers curled into your hips while one of your feet tapped the crystallised ground underneath nervously.

“Well, I’m not dead yet, so I guess the air is breathable,” you talked to yourself out loud, sounding almost disappointed. “Stinks like a swamp though, ugh.”

That was a good observation from your part. Stupid, but good. What was your plan if it wasn’t? Suffocating to death? Bit reckless if you asked him. And yes, the sulfuric smell coming off a bog nearby was not great, but there were worse places in Mand’alor to find yourself in. He knew damn well.

He eyed you for a little longer, Mrs. Kri’gee lying in wait. He didn’t need to kill you yet, first he needed to find out why you were here and if you were part of a larger group ― if there was a remote possibility of someone looking for you, he had to know.

Din signalled to Mrs. Kri’gee to come out of hiding but to not attack yet. And so she did promptly. The droid walked out in front of you, startling you so bad you almost fell backwards.

“Identify yourself,” his droid asked you.

You snorted, hand slowly moving backwards towards the blaster pistol in your holster.

“You identify yourself, you little piece of― metal,” you bit your tongue back.

“Nicknamed Mrs. Kri’gee by my Alor. IG-11 assassin droid. Serial Number 730X21G. Manufactured by Holowan Mechanicals in 1 ABY. First assigned to―”

“Alright, alright. Whatever,” you scoffed, fingers curling around the grip of your gun. “What is a droid like you doing here anyway?”

While you were distracted chatting to Mrs. Kri’gee, Din had come out of his hiding place, heavy boulder on hand. Stealthy as a predator, he raised his arm above your head and smashed the rock against your skull with no hesitation at all.

You plummeted to the ground instantly, rendered unconscious in a split second. Towering above you, Din walked around your body and crouched down in front of you. His gloved fingers moved a few strands of silky hair out of the way, following the tiny stream of blood dripping down your temple. The wound wasn’t too bad ― he was sure you’d survive the blow.

“Pick her up,” he commanded the droid, who willingly complied.

In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Kri’gee was carrying you over the shoulder, as if you were a light sack full of gloomroots.

What a banging headache. You were barely able to string two thoughts together.

Eyelids heavy, you did your best to open your eyes. It took you a couple of attempts, but you finally got there. Vision still burry, your pupils widened to adapt to the darkness surrounding you.

The room you were in was all rough, square edges. It reminded you od the inside of a spacecraft with all those panels on the walls. Here though, the cables were hanging out of the electrical panels, snapped and peeled. The scarce futuristic, metal furniture dotted around was broken and upside down everywhere ― the whole space was derelict, abandoned.

It has to be, because this is Mandalore, you suddenly remembered where you were before you lost consciousness. And how did you faint, anyway? How did you get here? Was it the freaking droid?

With a pitiful groan, you tried to reach the back of your head, where the pain was radiating from. To your dismay, your hand didn’t budge one inch. Confused, you looked down and around you, only to find a sturdy syntherope tethering you to the chair you were sitting on.

“What the varp!” You exclaimed, fighting the fetters to no avail.

You rubbed your hands together in the hopes to loosen the grip and slide one hand out, but whoever bound you, had tightened the rope really well. Did that stop you though? No, not one bit. You tried and tried and tried until the skin on your wrists was raw.

You were in the middle of attempting to break free when the creaking noise of the door made you still in place, half hoping to see the assassin droid.

Instead, a Mandalorian walked into the room, and you immediately ceased your endeavours. With a droid you could deal, but with a sentient being… and even worse, a Mandalorian out of all the fucking possibilities.

By the shape of his armour and predatory gait, you could tell he was a man, around five feet twelve. He wore a black body stocking covered by different metal pieces ― vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, breastplate, thigh and shin guards, and kneepads were all made of unaltered beskar. The shiny patina indicated that the alloy had been polished but not painted, as most Mandalorians would have them.

But what struck you as odd was his helmet. Manufactured with the same polished beskar, a black visor protecting his eyesight, you noticed the big crack that ran diagonally from the bottom left, all the way to his right temple. The transparisteel of the visor had also been damaged. It all had been welded back together, albeit by a novice hand.

You stiffened your back as he approached without exchanging one word. Your gaze followed his every movement, wary of the man in front of you. Your tribe instilled on all its members a gut-churning hatred for Mandalorians, although such strong feeling never really deepened within you.

Always mouthing your curiosity, your constant questions as a child were never well received by your tutors. Even your father had a hard time convincing you to hate someone irrationally. It just wasn’t in your nature to hate for the sake of it.

However, the Mandalorian in front of you… well, that was a slightly different story. The bastard had kidnapped you and had the guts to stop in front of you, arms folded, and head tilted. As if you just happened to be there, disturbing his peace.

“Release me now,” you demanded, narrowing your eyes as you leaned forward on your chair. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

A stony silence ensued, leaving you wondering if he was mute.

“Why are you here?” His voice was distorted by the speech scrambler integrated in his helmet.

Repressing a taunting jeer, you stared him right in his eyes ― where you assumed they were, anyway. When he didn’t respond, your eyebrows scowled.

“Are you, like, for real, man?” You couldn’t hide your incredulity. “It’s obvious I don’t want to be here. I didn’t mean to land on this forsaken planet. For all I knew I was about to die, I thought it was uninhabitable! I actually meant to go to Condordia―”

“Why would you go to Concordia? You’re not Mandalorian. Obviously,” he interrupted you, his hand waving up and down in front of you almost scornfully, pointing out your plain clothing.

“I― Well, that’s none of your business, actually. Look― Sorry, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it before you kidnapped me,” you asked with a pinch of rancour tarnishing your voice.

“I haven’t kidnapped you,” he quickly replied defensively. “Just Mando.”

“Okay, Just Mando. Look, you let me go and we both can pretend none of this ever happened. I go on my merry way and you― well, you stay here, doing whatever it is you do,” coming to think of it, you also had questions. You cocked your head, “What are you doing here anyway? When did Mandalore’s atmosphere become breathable again? I thought the planet was completely ruined after the Great Purge.”

“For considering yourself a hostage, you sure ask too many questions. And it’s none of your business, actually,” he snapped back throwing your own words at you with a snarky edge to his voice. “You and the whole universe think Mand’alor is unliveable, and it will remain like that for as long as I live, at least,” his tone turned sombre. “You ain’t going anywhere, I’m afraid.”

His last words shocked you. What did he mean you were not going anywhere? Of course you were. You couldn’t stay here; you had a mission to complete. And Just Mando didn’t seem to be the best company either, the man was so dispassionate you were sure he had a pole up his ass.

“Wait, wait, hold on one varping second. Let’s not rush into making stupid decisions, shall we? I get it, you want to be left alone for all eternity, don’t want anyone to disturb you. I won’t tell a soul you’re here, I give you my word,” you stumbled over your words, panicking at the perspective of not leaving this planet. “Please, I can’t― There are people looking for me,” you lied.

You had not been in touch with your tribe for weeks now. And by tribe, you meant Ash. He was the only one you had been communicating with over the last eight years. Life had been hectic, and you were never the best at keeping in touch.

“Then I’ll kill them if they come looking,” he shrugged, matter-of-factly.

“Wow, okay. Calm down. No need to threaten my people,” you tried to diffuse the situation, although Just Mando seemed pretty calm.

“And just so you know, I’ve just come back from where you landed. I’ve destroyed your engine and the navigation console, so you ain’t going nowhere,” he unfolded his arms, lacing his gloved fingers on his back, quite the measured gesture.

You glanced up at him incredulous, mouth agape while your lungs emptied. You were stranded here, forever, with him. The magnitude of his words had still not dawned on you, when a faster thought made its way through to the surface.

The star compass. Had he found it? Had he destroyed it too? Not that it would be useful here, but it was the last memento you had of your late father. Not that you could ask, anyway.

“Why… why would you do that?” Your trembling voice almost gave way to desperation as you leaned back against the chair.

You blinked fast to tame your feelings, all bravado leaving your body soft and boneless. For once you were speechless, your eyes searching for his under the damaged visor. But you only saw your reflection on the transparisteel, his pose not budging at all.

“Please, Mando. Tell me you’re lying. Tell me my X-wing was not the only way out of this forlorn planet?” You begged, a dense knot forming in your throat, collapsing your airway.

“It is. It was,” he corrected himself. “I can’t let you leave. I don’t trust you nor your word. This way, I make sure you have no other option than staying here for as long as you live. Death is the only way out of here.”

You deflated on the chair, looking at him in disbelief, almost unable to breathe. Although his voice was warped by the modulator, there was no emotion in it. He spoke as if talking about the damn weather, not like he had just clipped your wings forever ― literally.

“I― What… Why are you behaving like a fucking monster? Don’t you have feelings?” There was no edge to your question, you were past subtleties now.

He shrugged again, unbothered.

“‘Cause I am. And I don’t,” was his cryptic answer before turning on his heels and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The door slammed behind him a bit too forcefully for his liking ― a reminder that he would need to ask Ca’nara to grease the hinges. Din then put the latch down to ensure the door could not be opened from the inside.

Without another thought in his mind, he turned around and almost crashed into Nau’ul.

“Master?” asked the protocol droid, dubious, one finger lifted in the air to draw his attention.

“What?” he replied, exasperated. Din just wanted a moment alone ― that conversation had burnt the last energy he had reserved for socialising. If it wasn’t because he could harbour no feelings, one could say he was socially drained already.

“Since the girl is going to be with us for quite some time, I was thinking that you might want to offer her a more comfortable room…” Nau’ul suggested.

The damn droid was more human than he was. Din had not even thought about moving you a different place within his derelict fortress. He had made the once royal prison his home, suspended off the ceiling of Sundari’s bio-dome, or what remained of it. A suitable place for a worthy character like him.

Din just stared at him, weighing his words. Did he have to care about the needs of his captive? She’s not my captive, just a… lifelong visitor, he quickly corrected himself.

“Then again, maybe not,” Nau’ul quickly retracted, dropping his hand to one side, mistaking his silence.

Fuck, I should have thought that, not the droid, he almost reprimanded himself. After so many years in his self-imposed exile, Din had really lost all touch with his humanity. Solitude, along with the curse that plagued his veins, were to blame.

With a grunt, he turned on his heels, unbolted the door and walked right back in, coming to a halt behind you with just a few strides.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a small voice, sniffling.

You had been crying and were now trying to hide it, show him you were unbreakable. He should have felt like a dick but didn’t. Couldn’t, really.

He knelt behind you and removed his vibro-knife from one of his pockets. The blade hummed, vibrating, when it got activated and Din cut you loose, restoring the blood flow to your hands.

“I’ll show you to your room,” was his only explanation to your question.

“My room? But I thought…” the doubt in your words slightly angered him. A fleeting feeling.

Anger? That’s new, he thought, eyebrows momentarily furrowing under the helmet.

“You wanna― you wanna stay here?” he muttered, teeth almost gritting.

“No,” you hushed, wide eyes looking up at him when he walked around the chair to face you.

Unsettling.

“Then follow me.”

Turning on his heels, Din made his way to the door, hoping you would follow. And you did, possibly because you had nowhere else to go.

The royal prison was a cross-shaped structure with several floors. Most of it was completely abandoned, except for the last two levels where he had accommodated himself in this senseless life he lived. The height gave him vantage point, with a good view of the surrounding buildings and further afield.

If it was for him, he would live between wreckage and filth, but his droids had made it their purpose to make the prison somewhat liveable. Not that he cared.

Din looked over his shoulder for one second to see you rub your wrists, eyes focused on the floor. Red lines were imprinted on your skin and for a brief second, he wondered if he had secured the syntherope a bit too tight.

Oh well.

He walked you all the way through a maze of corridors until you reached an elevator which was already waiting to take you up. Din stepped in and then to a side ― it wasn’t too big, but there was enough room for the both of you without having to invade each other’s personal space. You reluctantly followed.

The minutes dragged; the silence heavy although he did not find it unbearable. By the way you fidgeted with your fingers, he knew you did. Despite your discomfort, Mando did not open his mouth ― better getting used to it now, he didn’t want you to think he was the talkative type.

Then a ding announced your arrival to the top floor, and you almost let go of a relieved sigh. Din glanced at you sideways but didn’t catch much of your expression ― you were on his righthand side, and his right eye was completely blind.

The floor was well illuminated, clean and free of debris. It was well looked after, pristine almost. The corridors were empty, giving the whole place a very diaphanous appearance. As you walked by his side, he pointed out a few rooms you might want to make use of.

Arriving at an intersection, Din took the east corridor, ignoring the opposite one deliberately.

“What’s on that corridor?” you asked curiously.

You were too damn perceptive. Too perceptive for your own good.

“The west wing is forbidden,” he grunted abruptly, a growl even, stopping in his tracks to face you. “Forbidden,” he repeated slowly so the words, and the threat in his modulated voice, would sink in.

His reaction took you aback, but he could see you subduing your fear. You would not let him see it ― how scared you really were. You might not want to show it, but he could sense it.

The thought of you sniffing around the west corridor should make him panic, but his reaction was a mechanical one ― once upon a time, he would have cared excessively, worryingly even, if you discovered what he was hiding. Now, however, it wasn’t that he didn’t care but couldn’t.

The reason behind it, the reason why his emotions had become sterile and why a beast lurked beneath his skin, was stashed away in the west wing.

And it was his life mission to prevent anyone from finding it.

When Just Mando opened the door to your new cell, you were pleasantly surprised to discover it was an actual bedroom. The walls were still polished stainless steel slabs, so it wasn’t the coziest place ever, but it had a double bed with fresh linen, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a chest and one single chair. Everything was immaculate white, not one speck of dust in sight. There was another door that you assumed would lead to an ensuite bathroom.

You entered the small room and walked towards the bed. Opened the drawers of the furniture not really hoping for anything, so your eyebrows furrowed when you discovered they were packed full with clothes. Weird, but good.

With a little jump you sat down on the bed, testing its springs and overall comfortability. It was strikingly soft and smooth like a cloud, beckoning you to lie flat on your back and drift away to your dreams. You were not expecting that ― seeing how the rest of this floor was decorated (it wasn’t), you thought there would be one single spartan bed which would be hard as ironstone.

You were even amazed to see a floor-to-ceiling window. An actual, big, massive window that faced the outside world. And there were no metal bars covering it. Incredible, really, that he would trust you with one. Not that you were planning to escape, considering how desolate the planet was ― where could you go? Nowhere.

Looking up, you saw Just Mando leaning against the doorframe, arms folded while his biceps flexed against the fabric of his body stocking. He had been watching you the whole time you were inspecting the room.

Suddenly you felt the weight of his eyes on you and that made you feel skittish. You couldn’t see them, but you knew his sight would be intense, drilling and thrilling. What did he look like under that helmet? Would his expression be as impassible as his tone? Did he really not care at all or was that a façade he could afford because you couldn’t dissect his face?

“So… can I come out of my room? Or are you going to lock it too?” you asked tentatively, hands laced on your lap, challenging him with the soft curve of your raised eyebrow.

“It’ll stay locked until I know you can be trusted with freedom,” he straightened his back, hand on the doorknob.

“You call this freedom? Wow, okay,” you paused, letting that spoken thought sink in. “Is it because I asked about that corridor?”

Just Mando stilled under the doorframe, head cocked. Unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, your teeth massaging the plump pillow underneath.

He didn’t answer.

You had had enough years of silence, the quietness of your cockpit being your only companion. Only broken by the fleeting moments when you met civilisation, you had unintentionally craved that connection. You just hadn’t realised it until you were faced with the possibility of being accompanied by someone for the rest of your life.

Even if that someone was… well, him. Guessed you would have to make do.

“You’ve already condemned me to live here with you, Just Mando, for-fucking-ever. You’ve destroyed my ship, so it’s not like I can go anywhere, can I?” you pleaded with him. “This whole planet is already my personal jail, don’t make it even smaller or I’ll go crazy.”

In your begging, you had gotten up and cut the distance between you. The tips of your shoes bumped into his weathered, leathered boots. He didn’t move, not even one inch ― completely unbothered by your proximity. Your face was so close to his helmet, the steam of your breath almost fogged up the transparisteel of the visor.

And, for a second, he seemed to consider your petition. Or so you had liked to think. You measured each other up, no one giving in or up.

“Until you can be trusted,” Just Mando remarked. The Mandalorian was the first to finally retreat, taking a step back into the hallway. “It’s up to you how long that takes.”

Flabbergasted, you looked at him in disbelief.

And then he shut the door. The click of the lock quickly followed.

Hours had gone by until you heard the door unbolt.

A different droid, an astromech one, greeted you.

“Beep boop, beep!” it happily chirped.

Luckily you knew enough Binary to unsderstand that it said, “dinner is served”.

“I don’t get it. I’ve already had dinner. Don’t need to be here,” Din complained, arms crossed at chest level, manspreading on a chair in the dining room.

“Try to be understanding, sir. The girl has lost her freedom,” Mrs. Kri’gee almost reprimanded him.

“Least you could do is keep her some company, Alor,” Nau’ul chipped in.

Din scoffed, irritated. And such irritation surprised him. He shouldn’t feel anything but a void in his entrails.

Nau’ul picked up on his unusual display of feelings as quick as he did.

“Master… Have you thought that perhaps this girl could help you break the spell?” the protocol droid ventured, almost stammering towards the end when Din snapped his head back to look at him.

If looks could kill, Nau’ul would have dropped dead.

“Fucking nonsense. You heard the witch, the spell she cast,” Din muttered, jaw so clenched it almost hurt him. “Stop looking for solutions and just accept it. After eight years, you should have already giving up your futile hopes.”

“Someone has to keep the spirits up around here. Depressing enough as it is,” the droid retorted.

“If you allow me, Master, Elsbeth’s exact words were, ‘until you find your maker once more’, and that is up to interpretation,” Mrs. Kri’gee added.

Din remembered very well the cursed that Morgan had spitted in his face before he took possession of the Darksaber and sunk it in the witch’s belly.

I condemn you, Din Djarin, to an eternity of loss, Of emptiness, apathy and thorns. At full moons you will be at your worst, With nobody to keep you warm. You shall walk this Galaxy alone, Until you meet your Maker once more.

They still resonated inside his head, clear as the pale ale in the jug in front of him.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow. You’ve been ignoring it for years, but I fear that if you do nothing about it, well…” Nau’ul voiced his worries, hands twisting ― a very human-like gesticulation.

Mando had spaced out, not listening to one word. He only snapped out of his trance when the door creaked, announcing Ca’nara’s and your arrival.

The bags under your eyes were screaming for some rest, which apparently had been evading you. He had given you enough hours alone to get some sleep and freshen up, so why hadn’t you? If you looked so miserable, that was entirely down to you, not him. Of that much he was sure.

Din straightened his back, sitting up properly, while Nau’ul rushed off his feet to serve you the food the droid had prepared. With a flourish of his hand, he presented you with his creation.

“It’s tiingilar, a Mandalorian stew of meat, vegetables and spices. It’s hot, very hot, be careful,” the protocol droid warned you.

From across the table, Din could have sworn he saw your eyes watering, then you blinked a few times, grabbing the spoon.

“Oh my stars, how many spices have you put in here?”

“Oh, you don’t like spicy food?”

“Well, I do, but it smells so spicy, I’m about to cry, phew!” you swept along your waterlines with your index fingers, making a point.

“Alor prefers it this way. I can prepare something else…”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll eat it. Thank you…?” You dragged your words, looking for a name.

“Nau’ul,” he replied. “Anything you need, please ask.”

And then all three droids disappeared from sight, leaving you both alone in the dining room.

You glanced up from your plate, eyeing him above your spoon while you blew on it to cool it down.

“Are you not eating, Just Mando?” you raised an eyebrow, inquiring.

If Nau’ul was still in the room, Din would have snarled at him. Instead, he folded arms again and shook his head no.

“I’ve already eaten,” he explained dully.

He couldn’t―wouldn’t―remove his helmet in your presence, or anyone’s. Not even his droids had seen his face in all the years they had been together. Din had been raised to follow the Mandalorian Creed and even though he was no longer part of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, he still believed. It was intrinsic to him, to who he was. Or had been. The only thing that kept him true to himself.

“Because you can’t remove your helmet in front of me. Right?”

Din tilted his head in surprise. He did not expect you to know that. Were you acquainted with the Mandalorian culture? And if so, why? You were not one, he could tell. But what were you? Your accent was a mixture of different ones, so he could not pinpoint where you originated from.

“This is the Way,” he found himself saying. It had been a long time since those words last escaped his mouth. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, from here and there, everywhere and nowhere…” Then you took the first spoonful of the stew and started coughing almost instantly. “Fuck, this is spicy,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, as your hand lunged forward to eagerly down the drink.

Din almost smiled at your severe reaction. The corners of his lips began to curl up but quickly dissipated, his own body fighting against such act of rebellion.

“So you’re a nomad?” He asked with certain curiosity in his voice, while he leaned forward to pass you the jug full of ale to top up your drink.

“Yes. I don’t have a homeworld. I don’t even know where I was born, we moved around so much my father didn’t even remember,” you went on almost absentmindedly, pouring the beer in your glass. “What about you, Just Mando?”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Just Mando’? It’s just Mando,” as soon as he said it out loud, he understood the joke. He pressed his lips together, slightly amused. “I see,” he mumbled.

You laughed as if it was the best joke ever. The warmth in your laughter was vivid, hearty, compelling. Like a melody it filled the air ― suddenly the room was not as bare as before. As cold either.

“So? Were you born here in Mandalore, Mando?” the smirk coiling your lips told him you were teasing him.

Din debated whether to open up or not. Whether to tell you the truth or a lie. But Nau’ul was right, if you were to spend the rest of your lives together, lying was not a good start.

“I was born in Aq Vetina, but was raised in Concordia,” was his succinct answer.

Your eyes unsuccessfully searched for his under the visor. Din could tell you wanted to press him, get more information out of him, but that was as much as he was willing to share today.

“Eat up. It’s going to get cold,” he urged you, wanting to leave so he could be alone.

“So bossy,” you whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes to the back of your head, before attacking the tiingilar.

Nine weeks later

You turned to the next page of the book on your lap, your mind completely captivated by the story of the pages in front of you. Books were scarce in this day and age, but Mando had managed to salvage a few after years of rummaging through the rubble. This one in particular was a storybook for children ― a story about a Mandalorian fighting the Mythosaur down in the Mines.

You were immersed in it, curled up in your bed with a thick duvet and a few pillows around you. Your room was not bare anymore ― you had decorated with a few trinkets you had found in your day trips to the outside world, with Mando as your guide. The fear of the first week had slowly eased, giving way to a new sense of comfort.

Forgotten was your thirst for freedom. With the passage of time, you learnt that Mando was not joking when he first said death was the only way out. And since you didn’t want to die, you slowly had embraced this new way of life. You had made friends with the three droids and had really tried to form sort of friendship with Mando.

The Mandalorian was a tough nut to crack. He was not keen on showing emotion, so much so you even wondered if he was capable of feeling anything. You had noticed that, many a times, he relied on Nau’ul to show him how he should act or react. A droid teaching a human how to be human ― unfathomable. Perhaps all these years alone in Mandalore had taken its toll on him.

And so you liked to think that you were somewhat helping him reconnect with that side of him you thought long gone. By ‘helped’, maybe you meant ‘forced’, but Mando had thrown you in this situation, so now he had to put up with you.

The door to your room opened suddenly, startling you so bad you almost threw the book at Mando.

“One of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Don’t you know how to knock?” You screeched, hugging the storybook to your chest and burying yourself under the duvet ― you were only wearing a shirt and your underwear.

“Are you not ready yet?” you had grown used to the exasperation in his voice.

“Ready for what? It’s only half seven in the morning, Mando!”

“You wanted to visit the Living Waters in the Mines and see for yourself if it really is a Mythosaur’s lair, remember? Since you don’t believe a damn word of what I say,” he scowled, still under the doorframe.

“Oh, shit! You’re right!”

How could you have forgotten? You had been insisting for over two weeks now, and only yesterday did he capitulate. You were no Mandalorian, so shouldn’t be in such a sacred place, but you managed to convince him that it would do literally no harm to anyone if you visited.

In your excitement, you jumped out of bed, forgetting you were half naked, and looked for some clothes to put on.

“I’ll… I’ll be waiting in the parlour,” he muttered and disappeared into the hallway.

Ten minutes later, you were outside, on your way to the Civic Center. As you approached this new-to-you, unprobed area, the destruction around you made your stomach churn. The Great Purge and then years of neglect painted a gruesome picture in front of you. Inside was even worse, although you couldn’t see much considering how dark it was.

You followed Mando diligently ― he had been here before, so you trusted his instinct. You stepped where he did and remained silent while you descended into the ground.

After a few more minutes, a humid, warm cave appeared in sight. There were massive pillars holding the crumbling ceiling, and piles of debris everywhere. Stairs led a path to the Living Waters below.

“This is beautiful,” you mumbled in awe, looking around you.

The place was eerie and silent as a tomb. Seeing it with your own eyes, now you could understand why people would believe in the existence of a mythological creature.

There was a plaque on a stone nearby and you got closer to read it. However, the writing was in Mando’a, so you cocked your head to look at Mando.

“What does it say?”

He walked towards you and stopped right behind you. His proximity sent a warning shiver down your spine. You ignored your body’s reaction, focusing on the words you didn’t understand.

“These Mines date back to the Age of the First Mand’Alor. According to ancient folklore, the Mines were once a Mythosaur lair. Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet,” he relayed, his voice ricocheting between the bare walls.

“And you are sure you’ve seen it? Mandalore the Great lived, what, hundreds of years ago? In all that time, you’re telling me, you’ve been the only man to witness the rise of the beast?” One perfect eyebrow raised into your forehead, a smirk curling up your lips, as you taunted him.

Although you couldn’t see, you liked to imagine the frustration distorting his features. Lately you had wondered who the man under the helmet was, but you knew you would never find out. Mando took the Creed very seriously, too seriously.

“I did,” he replied concisely. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me.”

“And what were you doing in the water anyway? It does not look very inviting.”

“I had to redeem myself,” you could tell he hadn’t mean to tell you that, because he nervously adjusted his posture.

“Why?”

You were like a loth-wolf with a bone ― you wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“I had broken the Creed and had to atone for it,” his voice lowered, uncomfortable with the topic.

“How did you break it?”

“Will you ever stop asking so many damn questions?” he growled, evading your probing.

You lifted your hands up in the air in a peaceful gesture, but not without a subtle grin on your mouth. You loved driving him crazy, it was one of the little fun you could have in this place.

“Alright, alright.”

You bent down to grab some flat stones off the ground and practiced your stone skipping skills. That was until Mando’s big hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you mid-throw.

“Stop that, you’re going to awaken the beast,” he snarled, pushing you close to his chest a bit too forcefully.

“Oh, come on. Gimme a break, Mando. There’s no Mythosaur, you must have imagined it.”

“There is and I didn’t,” his grip loosened, and you took the opportunity to throw another stone. “Fucking quit that attitude now,” he warned you, grabbing you by both of your wrists, your hands flush against the beskar breastplate.

Your pelvis was sweetly pressed against his, your thighs touching his. Even with the beskar pieces, you could feel all his edges, his― Shit. His manhood resting just above where slick heat was gathering in your core.

You laughed to release your own tension ― your head snapping back, exposing your neck to his eyes.

“Oh, wow. You’re serious,” you managed to say between laughs, ignoring how close you were to him. Ignoring how wet your pussy was.

“Of course I am. You don’t unders―”

The sound of water abruptly moving forced both of you to look in the direction of the pond. Something enormous had risen, taking up the whole airspace, and water cascaded down its sides.

You froze in place, your mind rushing to come to terms with what you were seeing, as you looked at the gigantic figure towering above you. The water kept falling, so you couldn’t really make the shape of the monster underneath. But in that moment, you knew Mando had not imagined jack shit. The Mythosaur was real. Very real.

Mando pushed you back and put himself between you and the imminent danger. Above his shoulder, you saw horns sticking out and a big pair of eyes staring you down. Its skin was covered in scales and small horns, giving it a very reptilian appearance. The Mythosaur was massive beyond comprehension, and you could not, for the life of you, visualise it being tamed or, worse, ridden.

Time stilled and so did the beast. Its eyes were transfixed on you ― no, on Mando. As if they were measuring each other up, as if they were communicating somehow. Since that was impossible, it was obvious you were imagining things.

Before any of you could react, your heart pounding manically and your breath hitching, the beast went back down below the water level, and a massive wave dashed towards you. Within a matter of seconds, the Mythosaur was gone, and you and Mando were soaked to the bones.

Mando reacted before you did, turning around and forcing you to walk back.

“Let’s go, now! Move!”

In the safety of your bed, after a hot, steamy shower, you let your mind drift back to the moment in time where Mando had held you close to his chest earlier that day. How your body had unwillingly behaved to his closeness, how you ached for him to reach below your hips, right between your thighs…

With a soft moan, you gave in to the desire that had been pooling low in your belly for a while now. Your fingers dipped under your underwear, finding that sweet bundle of nerves in your wet slit. Your index tapped at your clit a few times until you stroked it ― electricity shooting up your spine.

That felt so good, you did it again and again and again, while your brain came up with different scenarios where Mando was giving you hell. With half-lidded eyes and lips parted, you smothered the beating nub with your thumb, two other fingers finding the entrance to your pussy and submerging in your wet heat.

You picked up a relentless pace, imagining they were Mando’s thick fingers, as the first orgasm in a long while started to build up inside you. Your own hand made you whimper, teeth sinking in your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. Your back arched involuntarily, stroking your pulsing clit more harshly now, your fingers reaching further in.

The squealing noise of the door opening alarmed you, your orgasm evaporating into thin air. You just about managed to remove your tantalising hand from your panties and throw the duvet above you. Panicking, you looked at the door.

Mando was under the frame, so still you thought he was a statue. You had tried to conceal what you were doing, but the rigidity of his posture told you he had seen enough.

Your cheeks reddened, your face on fire at the realisation of being caught masturbating. By none other than the protagonist of your wet dreams.

“Mando! I told you to fucking KNOCK!” You screamed at him from under the quilt. “You can’t just walk in like that!”

When you didn’t hear the door close ―because you were not expecting an apology from him―, you peeked above the duvet.

The Mandalorian had not moved one inch, and you really feared he had become immobile forever. But the tent on his groin showing through his body stocking told you otherwise.

And then he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. It was the first time he had trespassed the doorframe, you noticed. Butterflies filled your stomach and your lungs as he approached the bed you were lying on, your widened eyes looking for his unsuccessfully ― always unsuccessfully.

Mando didn’t say one word as he removed his gloves, coming to a halt by your side with his shins pressing against the bedframe. When they dropped to the floor, your eyes drifted right up at him, searching for clues, anything that could be crossing his mind.

His naked fingers were the first time you saw his skin, a bit of him. He was real, and he was right in front of you, caressing your cheek. You found yourself closing your eyes and leaning on the palm of his hand ― a tender gesture amidst your unresolved sexual desire.

Mando tilted his head, and you understood. An unspoken petition that you willingly granted. Driven by your lust, you scooted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him, dragging the duvet with you.

“Nuh-uh,” he clicked his tongue as he knelt on the mattress after having kicked his boots.

He yanked the duvet off you, exposing you to him with just your shirt and underwear.

You leaned back against the mountain of pillows and looked at him doe-eyed ― then your sight followed his right hand as it landed on your pubic bone. You pressed your lips into a fine line, swallowing a moan at his touch. His fingertips traced your wet slit over your panties.

“What were you doing, hm?” he husked, his long finger dragging against the garment.

“I, uh… well…” you stammered, unable to look for the words.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“Were you close?” a sliver of care transpired through his modulated voice.

“Yes,” you cooed.

“Sorry, mesh’la (beautiful). Let me help you with that,” he offered at the same time his fingers dunked under the waistband of your panties.

You melted into the mattress, audibly moaning, when he stroked you. Your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure his fingers were expertly working on you, sliding through your slit a few times, from your thudding clit to your dripping hole ― your clit hitching between his fingers every time he traced them back up.

He worked your flesh with his bare digits, and after a few minutes, his index and middle fingers went back down to your hot entrance. He tempted you with the tips but didn’t go in ― you were tiptoeing on the precipice of your pleasure.

You whimpered, annoyed.

“Please, Mando―”

“Din. Call me Din, mesh’la,” he hummed, the tip of his finger circling your entrance.

“Please, Din,” you blurted out, eyes flying open and transfixed on his visor, begging.

You let go of a pitiful groan when Din―you liked how his name rolled off your tongue―finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. Two of his thick fingers dove in your seeping pussy, slightly parting your walls in preparation―hopefully, if you were lucky―for his dick.

First slow, then a devilish rhythm his fingers imparted on you. The orgasm quickly built up again, Din’s dexterity beckoning you to climb to the hilltop. And you did, you let yourself feel all the pleasure he was giving you until it was too much, your clit raw and overstimulated by his precise thumb. You reached the top of the mountain and jumped into the abyss underneath. The wave of your climax washed over your, drowning you ― your cunt spasming around his fingers while your knees pressed together.

When you opened your eyes again, all tearful due to immensity of your frenzy, you were relieved to find that Din had released his throbbing erection through the zipper in his body stocking―you didn’t have the patience right now to unclasp all the armour pieces, you needed him now.

The sight of his engorged dick made your mouth water. The girth and the length of it should have made you flinch, but instead it made your pussy wet itself a bit more. It had the perfect size to fill your insides to the brim. Din’s hand moved up and down on his shaft, slowly pumping himself although he was already hard.

You lifted your hand towards his manhood, and he removed his to let you touch him ― for a second you were fascinated by the soft swaying of his cock. Then you wrapped your fingers around it and Mando grumbled, sitting on his heels, manspread for you as a tasty offering. He was a sight to see ― knelt and sat on his heels on the mattress, fully clothed, helmet on, armour hugging his body, and his erection peeking out through the zipper, leaky and throbbing just for you.

Giving him a few pumps, you looked up at him with a smirk. And before he could complain or stop you, you came closer to him and gave the plump head a lick, then sealed your lips around his leaking glans.

The groan that bubbled up his throat spurred you on to bob your head down, taking half of his pulsing length in your mouth.

Din’s hand tugged at your hair abruptly, pulling you off his twitching dick.

You glanced up at him confused.

“I can’t―I don’t think I can take a blowjob without blowing my load, mesh’la. I need to fuck you now,” he was honest with you.

It was understandable. He had been stuck here for at least eight years, which meant that he had not laid with a woman for at least as long. You would have lost your mind too if someone hadn’t touched you in that time.

“Come on then, fuck me, Din,” you mumbled, laying back down on the pile of pillows so your upper body was propped up.

You spread your legs, making room for him. Din swiftly shifted, dragging himself into position.

It was a fucking sight; one you had been dying to see. And he was finally there, all cozy in between your thighs. He parted your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders. He pushed your panties to a side, leaving you completely exposed.

You couldn’t see, but you knew his eyes were focused on the prize―your damp, puffy folds, clit twitching and hole begging.

“Been wanting some pussy for a while now,” he confessed in a grumble, head tilted back when the tip of his veiny cock slipped up and down your damp furrow.

“Here I am, take what you need.”

How altruistic of you.

His mushroom, precum-covered head caught on your slick entrance and Din bucked his hips a little, only the tip smoothly going in. Your heartrate spiked, your walls imploring for the full length of him to clench on. And then, Din thrusted in harshly, pushing his cock in down to the hilt in one smooth jolt. You both howled in unison at the intrusion ― his a deep, guttural moan, yours a high-pitched one.

Mando held onto your knees on his shoulders as he started with the slow sway of his hips impacting on the back of your thighs, building the perfect pace. His dick dragged along the right spot inside you as he jackhammered you into the pillows, another orgasm gathering in your core. Din’s rhythm became frantic, frenzied, to the point where he had to let go of your knees and lean forward, his hands holding onto the rattling headboard.

Mando fucked you hard, drilling you like a man starved. You could feel him stuffing you full, his hard dick disappearing between your swollen, greedy pussy lips. Reaching up, you held onto his arms above you, fingers wrapping around his elbows. Your body rocked up and down on the bed below him with the force of his unrestrained charges.

Your cunt couldn’t take it anymore ― it contracted around his girth, announcing your second climax, which quickly overtook your senses. With stars in your vision, you wailed his name, now fisting the bedsheets as you came, a never-ending wave making your twitch under him uncontrollably.

“Fuck, I… Fuck,” he growled, his hips bucking and stuttering erratically at the sight of your fucked-out expression.

He was close, you knew by the way his dick constantly pulsed inside you ― he just needed a bit of prodding. That was your signal to clench your walls around him, squeezing him as hard and snug as you could, clamping on his thudding cock, never wanting to let him go.

That was his undoing ― you felt Din’s warm, thick spend painting your inner walls, his steely cock convulsing with the last waves of his release.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Din between your legs, his dick still buried inside you as it softened. The inside of his visor was fogged up and you doubted he could see much.

“I didn’t mean to come inside, I was gonna pull out―”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. He didn’t need to worry about that.

His helmet tilted, but whatever question lingered in his mind, he didn’t ask.

His thumb lightly pressed your relaxed clit with gratitude, massaging it softly, before he pulled out and your pussy released his shaft. That gentle stroke ignited your nerve endings, slowly coming back to life. His thumb then went down, gathering the cum your pussy was releasing, and shoved it back inside you.

You bit your bottom lip to stop a needy moan.

“Wanna go again?” you asked, grinning. Offering.

Din laughed. He fucking laughed. You had never heard him laugh before.

“Sure do, but I need a minute, mesh’la.”

Every night for the next two weeks Din found himself stranded in the corridor leading to your room, like a lost, thirsty man looking for water in the harsh desert of Tatooine.

The internal struggle was always the same ― he shouldn’t seek you because, after all, you were his prisoner. You were stuck here with him because he had forced you to, giving you no other choice. Sure, he had not imposed his presence on you―quite the opposite, in fact―but it still seemed wrong to take advantage of you like that.

But then he would see you come out of your room, almost as if you knew he was marooned there, and would approach him with caution. Willingly you would take his hand and lead him to your nest, erasing any doubts he could have about your eagerness. You were as keen as he was ― fucking had become an entertaining pastime. And a calming balm for the beast within.

It was the same dance every night, without failure. And tonight had been no different, except for the hushed “I want you so badly, Din” that had dropped from your parted lips as you rode the last wave of your orgasm, a blissful expression softening your features.

As he stood outside of your door, back towards it, Din wondered what you had truly meant. Was it just a benign slip of tongue or was there something else behind it? He hoped for the first, because he couldn’t afford the second.

Feeling something―anything―was out of the question. Even if he wanted to, didn’t matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t. Elsbeth had cursed him to an eternity of apathy, and it had worked ― over the curse of the last eight years, Din’s feelings had dimmed, diminished and then disappeared, while his inner monster became more powerful, feeding off his emotions like a leech sucking blood out of its host. Mando had tried to feel to keep the beast at bay ― would even make the droids try to anger him in silly competitions, but the dull sense in his chest just grew bigger and bigger, like a tumour rotting his entrails.

Din couldn’t remember what happiness felt like ― he had a barren wasteland for a heart. So cold were his insides, he even thought all his organs were covered in beskar. That was what brought him back to your room every night ― your warmth, how it would seep through the cracks of his skin, warming up a part of him that he thought dead.

Tonight, he had allowed himself to really feel your body against his ― helmet still on of course, you both had been stripped naked for the first time, your skin rubbing his, heating him up. Whether he would admit it or not, he craved you. Yearned for your warmth.

With a shake of his head, his feet finally unglued from your doorstep and sauntered towards the west wing. A single light at the end of the corridor twinkled, snuffing out the moment he stepped below it.

He swung the door open to a room he had not visited in a very long while. Din preferred to pay no mind to the source of his emotional detachment, but Nau’ul’s words had been nagging him for weeks now, an annoying reminder scratching the back of his brain.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow.”

He had to see for himself.

The room should have been dark if it wasn’t for the light the Darksaber’s blade emitted. Din trudged towards the display stand in the middle of the empty space, where the Darksaber rested under a glass case. Two metal, U-shaped pins held the Darksaber upright.

An electrifying, white glow encased the black blade, but it was certainly fainter than what he remembered. Significantly fainter. It had taken him a few years to understand that the Darksaber was the vessel of his curse ― as his feelings dwindled and the beast grew fonder of control, so did the light of the Darksaber. He was not sure though about which one caused the other to wither away.

As he stared at it, Din pondered what would happen the day the light from the Darksaber would flicker away. Morgan had died before he could fully understand the idiosyncrasies of his malediction. At first, the frustration of the unknown had only driven him mad, especially when the full moons would bloom on the night sky, leaving him at the mercy of his curse.

The first time he had transformed, bathed by the white light of Concordia, Din thought he was dying. The burning sensation, the bones breaking and fusing back together, the stretch of his skin, the blood becoming cold in his veins and his mind spiralling out of control… He hadn’t died, but he sure wished he did. Only at dawn was he able to gain back control, so exhausted he just laid on the dirt near the Civic Center for an entire day before finding his way back to the royal prison.

Only with the insight of time did he decide it did not matter. The end was the end, and if that was the way, then he would greet it.

Din sighed, his eyes dry under the helmet. Looking around and knowing himself on his own, he carefully removed his helmet, wincing in agony, and placed it on top of the glass case. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose in an attempt to clear his mind, one hand resting on the glass.

Eyes shut for a long minute, he ended up fluttering them open. His reflection greeted him ― a terrible, gruesome sight, a face he almost didn’t recognise anymore. The scar that ran from the left of his chin diagonally to his right temple had distorted his features ― his chin slightly dented, the left corner of his mouth raggedy, the flesh on his upper left cheek mildly sunken around the scar, his crooked nose even more angular and his split eyebrow giving him a permanent frown. And then his right eye, completely blinded with a white discolouration covering his iris and pupil.

He could still feel the blade of the Darksaber melting his beskar helmet as Morgan pressed it against him. It hadn’t completely cut through the Mandalorian alloy, but the fire filtering through had burnt his skin, leaving an everlasting imprint on his face.

Din remembered the heat, the panic building up and the sizzling sound of his skin as it thawed like ice under the sun. The smell of burnt skill still haunted him sometimes when the helmet became too overwhelming.

The damaged tissue was thick but extremely sensitive ― every time he pulled the helmet off his head, the fabric inside would drag against the scar tissue, making him flinch in pain.

Shaking his head to release his mind from such memories, Din stared at the Darksaber for longer than intended, lost in his train of thought. For the first time in ages, he wanted to know if the curse could ever be broken.

Until you meet your Maker once more.

That had a pretty definite sentence to it. Death was the only way out.

“I didn’t see you last night,” you mumbled, repressing the need to add an ‘again’ to the end of your sentence.

You had noticed that there were certain nights when Mando would vanish, wouldn’t visit you at all. You wouldn’t see him in the morning either and if you asked any of the droids, they were as evasive as their master.

You still didn’t know why and every time you prodded him about it, his answer was…

“Had stuff to take care of.”

You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line. The idea of slapping him had its appeal.

“Are we still going?” you quickly changed subject, not wanting to be disappointed with him today. “I’ve not really asked you for anything in the three months I’ve been here.”

You watched his gloved fingers drum on the metallic surface, helmet tipped to one side as he considered your words. You wanted to believe that in the time you both had spent together, Din’s undaunted façade had softened a bit. His replies had become less snappy, his posture slightly more relaxed, and his hands way more caring as they canvassed your skin every night.

An invisible force had been towing you towards him, his gravitational pull irresistible. Din Djarin was a challenge to you, a puzzle you had started putting together. He strived so hard to remain indifferent, it was now an exciting game to make him feel. The only downfall? You were falling for him. Perhaps him being the only man to walk this planet had something to do with it, you had no other options. Also, you knew that fucking the brains out of each other every night would eventually lead you here.

Considering that you had a lifetime to spend on this world, letting yourself feel for Mando was something you could afford. And even if he didn’t want to show it, you were positively sure he was not as apathetic towards you as he let on.

“Alright. I don’t see the harm,” he accepted.

You mumbled a “yes!” with a smile crooking your lips as you pushed the chair back to stand up.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

You rushed out of the room to run to yours and change. The winter was receding, but the cold was still bitter and nippy, so you decided to put on appropriate gear. A few minutes later, you darted towards the lift, where Din was already waiting.

Couldn’t help yourself, you had to smile at him, the softness of your grin reaching your eyes.

Din cleared his throat, face facing forwards to avoid your orbs meeting his.

The way down in the elevator was soundless, but you had grown used to his silence treatment. The short journey to the crashing site was as tranquil as the trip down the lift. Mando was truly a man of few words.

When you caught a glimpse of your T-65B X-wing starfighter, you overtook Din and ran towards it in excitement.

“Careful there! The ground is slippery, you’re gonna―”

Before Mando could finish his warning, you recreated what his next words were going to be: you slipped on an icesheet. Waving your arms so you wouldn’t lose your footing, you ended up falling face first. You managed to partially stop the fall with your hands. The rocks underneath slashed your winter trousers, cutting your left shin.

By the time Din had gotten to your side, you had already stood up.

“You okay?” he asked with worry in his voice.

You nodded, smirking at the preoccupation he was showing.

“Yeah,” you lied. If he knew you had hurt yourself, you would be turning around and returning home empty-handed.

“Be more careful, will you? The ship ain’t going nowhere,” he snarled once he knew you were fine.

You rolled your eyes at him before strolling to the aircraft. Your old X-wing had seen better days ― the glass of the cockpit was smashed; vegetation had grown over the body. Moss covered most of it, painting it green instead of white. When you peeked inside the cabin, you realised it was flooded, all electrics wet. It was truly done for ― if you ever had any hope of leaving this planet, it would not be aboard your X-wing.

Din stood watch as you foraged for the item you were here for. After a few minutes, you located the star compass under the seat in the cockpit, drenched. Looking over your shoulder to see where Mando was, you opened the compass and water leaked everywhere. The black lodestone was static, unmoving ― maybe it just needed to dry off. Despite how damaged it was, you hoped it would still work. You were not planning on using it, obviously, but it was a reminder of your old life, one that now seemed very far away.

You couldn’t say you missed your previous life. The constant travelling had taken a toll on you in the last few years, having almost lost sight of searching for the Darksaber. Now that your feet were back down on the ground, gravity keeping you centred, this new life was not so bad after all.

“You found it?”

“Yeah!”

You quickly clasped the lid back down and jumped out of the cockpit. Perhaps you had lied to Din about what you were really looking for, but something in you told you not to tell the truth. So, when he asked you that morning why you wanted to go back to the shipwreck, you simply lied, telling him you were looking for your family’s locket ― a relic that had been passed down for generations.

The object was small enough to pass for one. You waved it at him quickly, not really showing it to him, before you shoved it in one of the pockets in your vest. Luckily Din didn’t ask for it, otherwise he would have realised it was made of beskar.

“Let’s go back then.”

“You’re bleeding,” Din’s fingers grabbed you by the elbow, yanking you back before you crossed the door to your room.

You looked down, having forgotten about the wound on your leg. You shrugged, downplaying it.

“It’s nothing, I’ll just take care of it now.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled with clenched teeth while dragging you inside.

He only let go of your elbow when you were by your unmade bed. Din stopped right in front of you, hands on hips. He nodded to you, commanding you to remove your trousers so he could see.

Your eyes rolled in frustration and clicked your tongue.

“It’s fine, Din. Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“I’ll decide if I have to worry or not.”

And, without prompt, he pulled down your trousers in a swift movement, leaving your legs bare. You huffed but let him help you out of them and remove your boots. Mando signalled you to sit on your bed and so you did. Din knelt in front of you, grabbing your hurt leg by the ankle until your heel was resting on his bent knee.

He inspected the wound for a minute after having removed his gloves. His fingertips burnt your skin where they ghosted over it.

“It’s not too deep, just a scratch.”

“I told you it was nothing. You have some unresolved trust issues, Din,” you joked, slightly leaning back with the heels of your hands flat on the mattress.

You couldn’t see but knew his eyes squinted under the visor.

“I’ll go get something to clean it. Wait here.”

Mando walked out and you took the chance to remove the uncomfortable coat. A minute later, he had returned with a clean rag and a small container with lukewarm water. He knelt in front of you again, grabbing your leg, and dutifully cleaned the wound.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the feathery touch of his fingers on the back of your knee. His proximity was enough to lighten your need for him. Also, being only in your underwear and a shirt while he was knelt between your legs did not help at all. Your imagination was already running wild ― and so your legs parted slightly, almost involuntarily.

Din’s attention shifted from the wound to your core. He tried to hide he was being distracted, but the helmet kept tilting to one side so he could have a better look at where your thighs met.

You chewed on your bottom lip, slick warmth pooling in between your legs.

“Din,” you hushed his name, your hand searching his so he would stop cleaning the wound.

The Mandalorian didn’t need much prodding after that. He towered above you rising to his feet, his hips at your eye level. You knew he was hard already, so couldn’t ignore the call of the siren.

With rigid steps, he walked towards the chest and placed the container dow. He scrunched the rag so the water dripped back into it. Soon enough, he was in front of you again, clean rag on hand.

“Do you trust me, mesh’la?” his modulated voice was low and husky.

You nodded vehemently.

“I want to try something different this time,” he murmured, the rag twisting in his hands. “But you gotta promise me you’ll behave for me.”

“I will,” you promised, breath hitching in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you and remove my helmet. But I have only two ground rules: you can’t take it off and you can’t touch my face. At all. No excuses. Are we clear?”

A rush of lustful excitement ploughed through your veins. You found yourself nodding again, your neck hurting.

“Use your words, cyar’ika (beloved).”

“Yes. Crystal clear, Din,” you mumbled, widened, almost adoring eyes staring at him. You hadn’t missed the endearment term, although he seemed to not have noticed.

“Good,” he curled one finger at you.

You sat back up, hands laced on your lap patiently waiting as Din blindfolded you with the damp rag. He secured it with a very tight knot on the back and made sure three times that it would not go anywhere.

“If you break your promise, I’ll have to kill you,” the threat was very real, not even a hint of joke in it.

Your mouth went dry and your clit irremediably pulsed ― your pussy was already wet and warm for him. You shouldn’t get off on a death threat, but apparently Din could reduce you to a slick mess just like that.

“I-I won’t remove it. You have my word. Please.”

“Be a good girl for me and lay down on your back,” he commanded you and you happily obliged.

Your heartrate spiked as you heard Din discarding the beskar pieces over his body stocking. Maybe you were too eager, but he was taking too damn long. Then a hissing sound told you his helmet was gone.

This was fucking torture. You wanted to see him, to see the face of the man who made you wet with just a few words. It was cruel of him to impose something like this on you, such a prohibition. However, you understood what his Creed entailed and respected it.

Hated yourself right now for respecting it, but you did.

Din placed his hands on the back of your knees and lifted your legs up, the soles of your feet resting on either side of his naked hips. The warm palms of his hands caressed your ankles, massaging them briefly, before travelling up your calves and inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Unceremoniously, his fingers curled around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs; you couldn’t see but were sure he had thrown them away.

The Mandalorian exhaled audibly the moment his hands landed on your knees and pulled your legs apart. You squirmed, knowing he was devouring you with his eyes.

“Din, please, just―” you whimpered, moany and needy, anticipating.

“Shush. Don’t be so impatient, mesh’la,” he chastised you while stepping back.

That was the first time you listened to his real, manly voice. It was deep and raspy, surly yet sweet.

Your feet, no longer supported on his hips, dropped to the ground.

“Go on your fours,” he talked you through the position he wanted you in as you obeyed. “Now lean down, rest that pretty face of yours on the mattress for me.”

With your perky ass up in the air, you felt very exposed with your inner thighs pressed together and framing your swollen pussy like a pretty picture just for him.

One of his fingers traced your wet slit and you had to stop yourself from wiggling your hips until his finger was partially inside you.

“Look at her, all drippy and puffy for me. She knows what’s coming, doesn’t she? That’s why she’s so fucking wet,” he hummed, shuffling behind you.

You couldn’t see him, but you were damn sure he was on his knees at the feet of the bed.

Din placed his hands on your ass cheeks and parted them, the skin in your sticky furrow stretching while his thumbs caressed your labia. Your cunt was on full display, and you could feel the cold air of the room against your damp, sensitive skin.

“At last, I can claim her as mine,” Din whispered, his hot breath fanning on your pussy now, sending shivers up your spine.

You moaned, finally understanding what was coming.

He didn’t keep you waiting. Din’s tongue lapped your whole pussy in one go and your entire body trembled at the wet touch, his beard prickling your skin. Covering your mouth, you swallowed a pitiful whimper while your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Mando’s broad hands squeezed your ass, grounding you, as he leaned forward again to drink from the fountain of your pleasure.

His tongue dipped in your creamy slit and stroked it slowly, deliberately loitering around your clit, but never really paying it much attention. He kissed your swollen lips, making out with them as if they were your mouth, the tip of nose intimately caressing your perineum. With the help of his fingers, he splayed open your quivering cunt, your hole accessible to the apex of his mischievous tongue.

Din licked you for minutes on end, ignoring your pulsing clit on purpose. The tension inside you coiled almost uncomfortably, so intense it would snap at any given moment. His devilish persuasion was relentless, more so when he would introduce his tongue in your very core.

You bucked your hips against his mouth, grinding. Desperate.

“Din, please, please, here,” you begged, slipping one of your hands down your belly and in between your legs.

You parted your slippery pussy lips, your clit hitching between them, showing him exactly where you wanted his goddamn tongue.

“Here, please,” you insisted, teary-eyed, at the edge of your patience.

“So impatient, mesh’la,” he chuckled behind you, still on your fours for him.

Finally, his lips latched onto your clit, and you whined out loud, pure elation running through your veins at the sweet suckling of his mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub, and you saw stars behind your eyes, head slightly tilted backwards as you mewled until your throat felt raw.

Din sucked on your clit harshly at the same time two of his thick fingers found their way to your oozing hole. You screamed a resounding “fuck” at the perfect intrusion. The combination of his tongue and his digits were more than what your nervous system could take. Lick, pump, lick, pump ― the perfect rhythm making your toes curl, your pussy clench and your clit set ablaze.

The whole pussy-eating-from-the-back situation was too much ― his fingers ever so tantalising, you surrendered. Rubbing your cunt against his mouth, you moaned his name as the best orgasm of your life almost rendered you unconscious. You came on his mouth while Din just sipped from you, drinking all your discharge as if it was the last drops he would ever taste.

You could only hear your heart beating in your eardrums, all your senses overwhelmed. You were so out, you had almost forgotten the rag blindfolding you.

“You’re gonna come again for me, mesh’la,” only then did you realised his fingers were still inside you.

You panted, gathering your thoughts.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, entranced.

“Oh, you can and you will,” he groaned, accepting the challenge.

And with that, his wicked lips pressed against your cunt, and he started all over again. As it turned out, he was fucking right. His tongue and his fingers were working you so well, there was no way you could resist. However, this time, there weren’t two fingers stuffed in your whole, but four. Your walls were so outstretched it should have been painful, but it wasn’t ― he had made sure to get you ready, pliant under his dutiful care.

“I wonder if you could take him. Bet you could,” Din whispered in a moment of respite.

“Huh?”

All thoughts dispersed when the second climax spread across your entire body, leaving you exhausted; a pitiful, sweaty mess on the bedsheets.

“Turn around and lay down. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” the crudeness of his words should have made you frown but instead you smiled, completely blissed out.

Din made good on his promise. On your back and with your legs parted, you heard him moving around until he was between your thighs. Then he leaned forward, his hands on either side of your shoulders to keep his weight off you, and his hard shaft dove inside your cunt with no resistance. When he bottomed out, he snapped his hips back and then forth, until he was rutting into you like a man on death row.

Your hands held onto his back, your nails digging in his skin. You wanted to move them up and sink them in his hair so badly, your palms were itchy with longing. He had said you couldn’t touch his face; he hadn’t said anything about his hair. Hoping he wouldn’t notice your intentions, your hands drifted up his back, arriving at the nape of his neck.

So close to burying your hands in his hair, so fucking close…

“Don’t,” he growled at you, the snapping of his hips against yours unforgiving. “The fucking audacity. I. said. don’t. fucking. touch,” he punctuated every word with deep, sharp thrusts.

You winced and gasped at the depth of his dives, your mouth shaping a perfect O, back arched off the mattress below you. Every stab of his dick kissed your cervix, and you just couldn’t stop moaning uncontrollably. The mild pain quickly blossomed into ecstasy; your skin electrified with pleasure.

Suddenly you felt his mouth ghosting over yours; his unfiltered, gruffy grunts were music to your ears. You reached up, wanting to steal a kiss from him to taste his lips for the first time, but he slithered back.

“You don’t respect boundaries, do you?” Din rumbled.

His voice should have had a tinge of anger, but instead it sounded… amused?

“You have had a taste of me, it’s only fair I get something in return, Din,” you bargained breathlessly, but got no reply. “Please?”

Imploring for a measly kiss from your captor while he kept on fucking you. That had to be a new low in your book.

You couldn’t see him as he jackhammered you into the mattress, but knew he was debating. Whatever inner debate he had, the side you were banking on won.

“You keep your hands on my back at all times. Yes?” One of his hands moved to your neck, his dextrous fingers wrapping around your throat. “Or I’ll―”

“Kill me. I know. Elek, Alor (yes, Master),” you whispered in Mando’a, breath hitching.

His mouth came crashing down on yours, teeth colliding in a very messy kiss. His tongue sought yours with fervour and sucked it into his mouth. He tasted like you.

You couldn’t help but moan in midst of the sloppy kiss, your heart finally content at his small yet meaningful surrender. The grip of his hand around your neck softened but didn’t dissolve, adding another layer of excitement to his unabating thrusts.

“Gar serim, cyar’ika (that’s it, beloved). You’re so good, so fucking good for me. Warm, tight pussy always ready for me when I need her. She never disappoints,” he maundered, your brain spiralling with his praise.

Praising your cunt, not actually you, but you would take anything he would give you.

A few minutes later, the breathy groans of your making out along with the squelching sounds of your lust filled the air, quickly followed by the loud moans announcing your climaxes. Your cunt clamped on Din’s dick―a promise you’d never let him go―and he blew his load inside you. The tackiness of his cum filled your insides as his cock pulsed one last time and his lips pecked yours.

Din dropped to your side, panting with exhaustion, and you just laid there pondering all the decisions that had taken you there.

You’d never let him go.

When the fuck did that happen?

“How long does winter last here?”

��A good part of the year, around six months,” he replied dryly.

He was aware of the fact that you had been trying to get words out of him for the past week. Make conversation, talk about his story, his past, his interests. See if there was any common ground between you. But Din couldn’t bring himself up to actually share personal details.

And every time you tried, and he would dodge your attempts, he would see the disappointment painted across your face. And every time, something unknown would uncomfortably stir within him. He suspected you had started to harbour feelings for him ― and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reciprocate you. Didn’t want to break your heart.

It was his fault, really, for seeking you out every night. You were so giving and him so greedy, he just mindlessly took what you offered without giving you anything in return except for a few orgasms and a good time.

“What did you do last winter? Bet it was boring being home with just the droids…”

Din knew very well what answer you were expecting: It was. Your presence has been a great improvement. You make my days―and nights―more bearable.

But instead, he shrugged.

“Dunno. Kept myself busy with stuff,” he muttered frugally.

He kept on walking before you, making the way back home after a quick stroll around to breathe some cold, fresh air.

The Mandalorian did not expect to be attacked by a snowball, which hit the back of his helmet. He quickly turned around.

“What the hell are you―?”

Before he could finish his question, you hit him again with another snowball, dead centre on his visor.

“You are such a prick, Din Djarin,” you snapped between gritted teeth, patting another snowball between your gloved hands. “Would it actually kill you to be a bit more open, hm?”

This time he saw the attack coming and was able to duck, avoiding the next snowball.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad, you fucking idiot!” you yelled at him, trudging forwards with another snowball on hand. “I’m mad for you, but either you’re fucking blind or you’re a cold-hearted jerk.”

Little did you know he was actually blind in one eye, but it didn’t seem to be the time to point it out.

The sudden love confession caught him off guard. You were not supposed to say that. You were not supposed to feel that way, not for him.

Din remained calm as you cut the distance and tried to smash the fourth snowball on his covered face. His fingers gripped your wrist before you were able to do so.

“You’re just confused, mesh’la. All the sex is blindsiding you, but you really don’t feel anything for me,” he reasoned.

You looked at him as if he had slapped you and took a step back.

“Of course, because you, the freaking Tin Man with a dead heart, know better than myself how I feel. Un-fucking-believable, honestly. Go fuck yourself, Din,” you scoffed, pushed him to one side and walked past him.

Din saw you disappear through the sliding door, while he stood there in disbelief.

What the fuck had just happened?

You kind of expected Din not to show up at your door tonight, but his absence in your bed stung either way. Sure, you had told him to go fuck himself, but now with a new―horny―perspective, you would prefer if he fucked you instead.

Infuriated with him, yourself and the situation, you sat back up on your empty bed. You reached for the drawer in your nightstand and opened it, grabbing the star compass inside. Fidgeting with the aurodium clasp, you wondered why the fuck Din didn’t open up. After three months and a half with him, you had thought you had been able to break through his armour ― the figurative one, not the real one.

Every time you tried to talk about your relationship with him, Din would shut you out or wouldn’t even engage in the conversation at all. He was more stubborn than a falumpaset, and that was saying something. Despite his indifference, you believed that, deep down in that cold, dead heart of his, he cared for you. Maybe he didn’t love you, but at least cared for you.

You didn’t even know if you loved him, anyway. Infatuated was, most probably, more accurate, you’d like to think. Most days you pushed that thought to the remotest corner of your mind, not wanting to consider it. Because, after all, you were his prisoner ― you might forget it some days, but the reality was that Din Djarin was your captor. So maybe it wasn’t love ― perhaps it was just a survival mechanism. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Amid your pondering, you almost didn’t realise that the hands of the compass had moved, and the lodestone was humming, the plasma inside slowly swirling around. Your heart jolted in your ribcage, almost dropping to your stomach, when you finally paid it attention.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping out of bed.

You had hoped it would work once it fully dried, but you were not expecting it to be actually functioning. It seemed to sense the Force emitted by the Darksaber, but that couldn’t be possible. If the Darksaber was here, in Mandalore, Din would know―would have told you. Right?

No, he wouldn’t have.

With that thought in mind, you put on some more decent clothes and cracked open your door. Carefully, you peeked in the corridor to confirm the coast was clear. It was close to midnight, so you hoped everyone―Din and the droids―would have gone to rest.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, you followed the path the star compass was pointing to, only to find yourself in the west wing after a few minutes. You knew you shouldn’t be here, but the compass hummed louder, vibrating on the palm of your hand, as you turned another corner. Looking up from your family’s relic, you saw a door at the end of the hallway.

“BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEP BOOP! BIP! PIP!” Din’s astromech robot, an old R2-D2 unit, screeched at you loudly, skidding and coming to a halt in front of you. It even had a red light flashing at you.

You almost threw your heart up there and then, the little robot giving you the biggest scare of your life.

“CA’NARA!” you told him off as your heartrate slowed down. “Fucking hell, you almost killed me, little devil.”

“BEEP! PIPIPIPI!” the droid beeped at you, going around you in circles.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, sorry!” you whispered, “I-I’m a sleepwalker!”

Ca’nara seemed to calm down, only for Nau’ul to appear in scene.

Great, fucking great.

“Ca’nara, what’s going on?” the protocol droid turned the corner, almost bumping into you. “Oh! What are you doing here?”

“I- Uhm, I was just telling Ca’nara that I’m a sleepwalker. He literally just woke me up. I didn’t mean― you know I cause no trouble, Nau’ul,” you pleaded with the affable droid.

“Of course, of course,” he took a couple of stiff steps back. “What’s that on your hand?”

Fuck. You looked down, coming up empty with a lie.

“I don’t know. I literally just woke up, I don’t know where I got it from,” you stammered a bit, but the droid didn’t pick up on it.

“I’ll take it. Alor will know what it is and where it belongs,” Nau’ul extended his hand towards you.

If you didn’t give it up, it would arouse suspicion. So, unwillingly, you passed it on to him.

“Where’s he?” the question slipped your tongue before you could refrain.

“Alor is… indisposed, miss. He needs to rest,” he replied cryptically as you both walked back to the main corridor where your bedroom was.

“Indisposed? Is he sick? Is he okay?” you instantly worried.

“He’ll be better in the morning, fret not,” he paused in front of your room, and you opened the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nau’ul,” you mumbled before closing the door behind you.

What a varping disaster. Nau’ul had confiscated your star compass, which meant that Din would eventually see it. If it came to it, you were not sure what you would do. And you still didn’t know what was in that room, why the compass had gone crazy as you approached it. But you had a pretty good idea. Chances were, the Darksaber was on the other side of that door at the end of the west corridor.

Sighing, you sauntered towards the big window in your room. Two perfectly aligned full moons dominated the night sky, their white, sparkly glow bouncing off the walls. It was a beautiful sight.

Something in the path below caught your attention. A metallic reflection. Your eyes drifted down just in time to see Din running towards the Civic Center, as if a thousand ghosts were on his heels.

You frowned, confused. Where was he going at this witchy hour? Wasn’t he sick?

A scary thought formed in your head. Were you under attack? Had Ash come looking for you after several weeks without returning his messages?

Heart pounding with worry, you darted to the door and then the lift. Whatever threat was coming, you would face it with him. With such resolution in mind, you followed his trail.

Your concern for him skyrocketed when you arrived at the Civic Center and saw nothing but pieces of his armour scattered around. You snatched the shin and thigh armour off the steps to the main door, only to look up and find more bits spread around the entryway.

This made no sense at all. Why would Din dispose of his armour? Something was wrong, very wrong, but you were not under attack.

You gathered all the armour pieces in your arms while calling his name but heard nothing except the whistling of wind passing through cracks and crannies.

Suddenly, you felt the need to look down the stairs to the Living Waters. A hunch rooting in your core, wrapping around your heart. Then a faint, painful growl came from underneath and all your senses flared alive.

What was Din doing down there? In the Mythosaur’s lair?

Panic hiked up your throat as you hiked down the stairs, the animalistic snarl louder now as you drew nearer. At the bottom of the steps, eyes fixed on your shoes, you dared to glance up.

His armour fell from your arms on to the ground, clattering. You were not prepared to see what you found.

Din was half curled up on the floor, naked and dragging himself towards the water. Only he was way bigger ― almost seven feet tall, his body much more muscular with chiselled, blueish veins across the whole of him, hands big as paws with his nails digging the dirt underneath.

You took a step forward, catching a better glimpse of him. Then you truly saw ― his skin had a viridescent tint to it and had started to scale. Rugged lumps raised from the skin on his back, tiny bones protruding through. No, not bones ― small horns, like those of a reptile.

Not like a reptile. Like a Mythosaur. Only smaller than the beast you saw a few weeks ago.

With a guttural bellow, he removed his helmet, throwing it to on side as he crawled towards the rippling water. His head was crowned by thick, short, greyish curls ― exactly what you had imagined.

“Din?” you whispered, taking a precautious step towards him, one hand extended in front of you to appease him.

His head snapped around at the sound of your voice.

You gasped at the sight of him. What first struck you was the scar across his face, one that would perfectly line up with the mended crack on his helmet. It ran diagonally through his rugged features, distorting them and hugging that crooked nose. His teeth seemed slightly pointier too. The next thing you noticed were his blown, bloodshot eyes with pupils as big as his sclerae.

Not eyes, one eye ― the right one was completely discoloured, covered in a white sheen.

He still looked like Din, but… not really.

The vision in front of you should have scared you. Even more so when Din stared at you, and you saw nothing in his expression ― he didn’t recognise you. Whoever, or whatever, this was, he wasn’t the man that had kept you company for the last few months.

Logic dictated you should run in the opposite direction. Instead, you propelled forwards towards him, knees skidding on the dirt and landing by his side.

The warm touch of an alien hand grounded him for an ephemeral instant. The bitter cold crawled under his scaled skin, rejecting the heat like a limping animal avoiding the helping hand of a human.

He snarled, creeping back and away from you, as if your mere proximity was a threat to him.

Because it was.

“Din, I’m here, let me help you,” you besought, dragging your knees towards him again.

He didn’t know who Din was. Where he was or had gone. Did he ever exist? The Beast didn’t know―didn’t care. So he growled again, but his futile attempt didn’t keep you at bay. Guessed you had a death wish, only that could explain your blatant refusal to his rejection.

Both your hands fell upon him, like warm blood spilling and enlivening his senses. For once the cold running wild through his veins minimised, giving way to a hot flush that was foreign to him. The sudden warmth surprised him ― but what shocked him the most was how soothing it was, how easy was for him to crave your touch. A primal need.

The Beast had forgotten what warmth was, having been cursed to a lifetime of coldness for as long as he could remember. Crazed by this newfound feeling, he slowly sat back up on the ground, eyeing you like a predator watching his prey.

Your hand reached up to him to cradle his cheek and the Beast closed his eyes, that warm feeling running down his neck, wrapping around his dead yet beating heart.

“You’re so cold,” you mumbled as you cut the distance some more, your chest nudging his side.

Another heatwave flashed through him ― your warmth beckoning, your body too inviting. He wanted to dive in, to let your warmth surround him, make him surrender. He craved it so bad, so fiercely, the Beast bowed down to sink his forked tongue in your mouth ― unannounced, unrequited.

You moaned at the intrusion, your hands lacing on the nape of his neck, and that only spurred him on. He gave in to your warmth and gave up his restraints. Growling, he plundered your mouth as he forced you down onto the ground.

Towering above you, his tongue slipped out of your mouth to graze your neck, and you shivered under him. Biting your chin, he returned to your lips to kiss you, to suck out your warmth to replenish himself. Like a leech he drank from you while his rough, broad hands roamed your body.

“Din,” you mewled.

He didn’t like this Din whose name you were moaning. So he kissed you, not wanting to hear it again and tugged at your clothing. Impatient, he almost tore your garments apart and only relaxed a little when you were completely naked beneath him.

Pressing his bare body against yours, he revelled, soaking in your heat. But there was a part of you that was hotter, and he could sense it ― like a tracking fob, he pursued the warm feeling as he slithered down your frame.

The heat pulsing from between your thighs called him home, hypnotising. You pressed your knees together and he snarled, his sight darting to your glassy, dreamy eyes, silently distraught at your denial.

He leaned down over you to graze one of your nipples, smothering it raw to show you what he could do to you down in your balmy core. His demonstration worked, because the next time he coaxed your legs apart, you showed no resistance.

So down he went on you, fingers splaying out your puffy folds to display the focal point of his desire. Like a thirsty animal his bifid tongue darted out and swept the length of your damp slit in one slow, sweet sweep. He howled into your pussy, besotted, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he devoured your seeping cunt. Warmth poured from your clit, and he latched onto it rather harshly, finally finding the beacon that reeled him in.

“Fuck, that― Mhmm,” whatever you were going to say died in your lips as a moan hitched in your throat and your body trembled.

A rush of liquid fire met his tongue, and he accepted your offering as your thighs quivered around him ― the strength of your release eased slowly, but his tongue didn’t.

His fingers found the warm cave he needed to nestle in. But before he could do that, before his brain got fucked out into oblivion, he had to prepare you to take him. He massaged your leaking entrance one digit at a time until you were sweetly stretched around four of his fingers.

You whimpered with the first pump and slowly you eased into it, into the feeling of being full to the brim. He licked and flicked your throbbing clit, the hot nub driving him wild. Your inner walls tightened, announcing another climax, and he pulled it out of you with his fist still immersed in your pussy.

Once you came down from your high, the Beast unburied from between your thighs and loomed over you. Your half-lidded eyes and fucked-out expression only made him harder, hotter. He hungered for the moment your bodies would connect; the moment he would finally feel only warmth running through his veins. The moment the cold was forgotten, albeit only fleetingly.

The tip of his cock nudged at your pliant entrance, and he trailed the head up and down your dewy furrow a few times. Your eyes blew open the moment he poked at your hole, parting your flesh, and you looked down at his dick kissing the mouth to your cave.

“Din, I don’t think― Oh, holy FUCK,” you mumbled something uncoherent afterwards, head tilted back and your teeth sinking in your bottom lip as your pleading metamorphosed into moaning.

His whole frame blanketed yours as he supported his weight off you by placing his forearms to either side of your head.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried himself in you, suffocating heat radiating from where you two met. He growled, an animalistic bellow bubbling up his throat as he felt your walls swallowing him, sheathing his throbbing cock. And when he was fully embedded in you, buried almost down to the hilt, you whined as he remained still ― your walls adjusting around him. He was maddened by the warmth of you.

Only when he felt you relax around him, did he start pumping in and out of you. His mind went blank as his sight transfixed on yours and your foreheads touched, another bridge between you. The Beast rutted into you, first paced, then madly, as he stared into your soul. Your body rocked up and down underneath him, your back arched so your nipples caressed the bare skin of his chest.

The movement of water behind him made him look over his shoulder. The Great Mythosaur had resurfaced, only the top of his head and his eyes were above the water table. Watching, ever present and lurking. Eager. Wanting.

He growled at him, a warning to back the fuck down ― he wasn’t sharing you; you were all for himself and himself only. His exclusive prey, no one else’s. With a low rumble, the Great Mythosaur disappeared under the water, and he refocused on you.

Tension built up at the base of his spine, his cock pulsating so hard it was difficult to ignore it any longer. And then your pussy clenched around him as you orgasmed once more, and that inevitably milked him dry ― both of you moaning in unison as ropes of thick, white cum painted your inner walls, leaving a lasting imprint in your core.

The Beast panted above you ― all coldness deserted from his body, destituted by your unique warmth.

He sat back up, his engorged cock leaving your entrails. Through the daze in your eyes, you looked at him with a satisfied grin. As you sat up straight, you lifted one hand towards him, softly placing it on the center of his chest.

“Come back to me, Din,” you begged, and all hell broke loose within him.

The pain, the shearing pain, blinded all his senses as his bones snapped and rearranged again. His jaw clenched to stop the agonising screams hiking up his throat. Din hunkered down as his body adjusted back to normal size.

As grievous as it was, it was over very quickly. Too quickly. He had not fully transformed into the Beast, which meant easing out of it was not as traumatic.

What was traumatic was the sudden landslide of overwhelming feelings taking form inside him. Almost a decade of apathy meant years’ worth of emotions repressed ― emotions that would emerge to the surface if given the opportunity. And whatever you unleashed within him, flooded his brain and his heart.

A myriad of sentiments rushed through him ― joy, anger, hope, disappointment, serenity, desperation. All at once, a cacophony bursting his eardrums. So loud were his emotions, all boiling together inside him, his thoughts were drowned. He couldn’t think ― panic was setting in.

Din panted as his arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, lungs vacating all oxygen in sharp exhales. His ears rang and his heart threatened to climb up his throat and run. Eyes closed shut, he grasped for control.

“Din, I’m here,” your hands slid on his back, grabbing him by the shoulders.

A soothing balm taking many of his worries away. Your palms smoothing out his skin felt like an anchor. One he desperately tried to hold onto.

Through the fog of his anxiety, he saw you knelt by his side, hugging him close. Naked as he was, a sweaty patina clinging to your skin. Although Din had not been in possession of his own body, he had been relegated to the background and had been witness to everything that happened. Forced to watch him take you.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I can’t control him, I just―,” he wheezed as he sat back up.

Your soft eyes sparkled, a faint smile curling up your lips. Your fingers snaked through his hair, combing it back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Din,” you hugged him tighter, reassuring, kissing one of his shoulders.

“Are you hurt? Did I― did he…?”

“I’m completely fine. A bit… sensitive and raw. But in a good way,” you added with a faint chuckle.

The comforting caress of your hand rubbing his back and your lips brushing the skin on his shoulder made him believe you.

Even though the look in your eyes had not changed, he could see the questions dancing in your pupils. Questions you were holding back, but that would eventually spurt out.

Your free hand reached for his left cheek, and he almost flinched at the proximity. Your thumb had come too close to the scar, sending a shot of pain down his neck. But he didn’t lean back away from you. Instead, Din stilled under your touch.

“I knew you’d be gorgeous underneath that helmet,” you whispered, your mouth close to his.

Din grunted, taking your compliment as an offense. Why were you mocking him? He knew how he looked ― he didn’t need you making fun of him for it.

And why was he upset? He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Your tiny fingers wrapped around his wrist when he reached for the helmet nearby. You yanked his forearm until his eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t joking. I mean it, Din. Truly,” you husked, hand again on his cheek and thumb too close for comfort.

He couldn’t see a sliver of jest in your features. You were deadpan serious. And that scared him.

Din looked away, coming to terms with the flaring emotions. Emotions. Even the unspoken word tasted weird on his tongue.

You moved away from him to quickly gather your clothes and put them on. Then returned to his side with his armour and clothing.

“Let’s go back home, Din. You look knackered,” you mumbled, kneeling by his side again.

Din didn’t reject your aid when you helped him get dressed again. Taking the helmet between your hands, he bowed down his head so you could put it on for him.

His body ached in places he didn’t even know could hurt ― all the restructuring his bones had to endure always took a physical toll on him. So much so, he needed your help to stand up ― his legs felt like those of a newborn humbaba.

But today… today it also took an emotional toll on him.

He really was exhausted.

You probably needed time to process what had happened tonight, a whirlwind of questions and doubts battered around in your mind. But you didn’t want to leave Din alone, not when he looked so fatigued, a moment away from breaking.

Walking down the silent corridor beside him, arm draped around his waist, you went past your room. You had never been to his and hoped tonight would be the night where he would let you spend it by his side.

Hand heavy on the handle, you pushed it down and the door swung open. You didn’t know what to expect and, somehow, the bareness of his room did not surprise you at all. The metalwork on the walls had been painted black and the furniture was sparse. A massive bed with black bedsheets dominated the room.

Despite the monochromatic theme, it felt cozy, inviting even. Dragging him towards the bed, you gently pushed him down on to the mattress and knelt in front of him to remove his boots.

“I can do it,” his words slurred.

“I know. But let me do it, please,” you muttered, throwing the shoes to one side.

Din hummed in agreement, so slowly you unfastened all the beskar pieces again. Removed the vest underneath and unzipped his body stocking down the side, helping him out of it.

There was something extremely intimate about undressing him. Not with a deprived end in mind, but a caring one.

I could do this forever. Only if you’d let me, the intrusive thought didn’t startle you. Because it was true.

Last, you placed your hands to either side of his helmet to pull it up. By pure instinct, his hands darted up to yours to stop you from uncovering his face.

“It’s okay, Din,” you reassured him softly.

Din crooned again, arms falling to his sides, surrendering, and you took it off, leaving it on the nightstand.

You could truly get used to this; you’d never tire of looking at him. His rugged features, although distorted by the nasty scar, were pleasant. His soft, brown and white eyes, the aquiline nose, the moustache blending in with the beard, the strong jaw. You only saw beauty, no beast.

Mando let himself fall backwards and you stood there by the side of the bed, unsure of what to do with yourself.

He decided for you.

“Stay, please,” he purred, half asleep by the time his head touched the pillow underneath.

He didn’t need to say more. Removing your clothes, you joined him under the bedlinen with a smirk.

The first lights of the morning filtered through the big window in Din’s bedroom. You had been awake for an hour now, but he had been so peacefully sleeping, you didn’t want to disturb him.

A tangled mess of limbs you were, your legs intertwined with his while your right cheek rested on his bare chest. Your left forearm was splayed across his abdomen, the tips of your fingers mindlessly caressing his ribs.

Pressing a kiss to his left pec, he stirred under you, slowly coming out of his slumber. You hugged him tighter, an easy smile surfacing.

“Good morning,” you husked when he looked down at you with just his left eye open, lips slightly curled downwards.

His addled expression made you snicker as you kissed his jawline.

“Morning,” he hushed back once his brain registered your words.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Everything hurts, but I’m okay.”

The arm of his under you moved, bringing you closer to him in a half embrace.

“I know you have questions,” he said a few moments later.

“Understatement of the year,” you joked, lifting your head slightly up to rest your chin on his chest. “Is now a good time?”

“Might as well,” his reply was accompanied by a smirk.

“You didn’t transform fully last night, did you?”

Din shook his head. “No, just halfway. I think your presence stopped it from happening.”

Did that mean that you could soothe the beast? That you could help Din in a way that really mattered? The mere possibility filled your belly with butterflies.

“And, well, the most obvious one… How?” you emphasized the last word.

“A witch cursed me before I killed her,” you looked at him quizzically, eyebrows raised, and he sighed. “A man by the name of Moff Gideon had someone I held dear under his grasp. A kid I was fond of,” he paused to gather his thoughts while your breath hitched at the name of Moff Gideon. “I fought Gideon to free him. I won, but he had backup I did not see coming. A witch named Morgan Elsbeth. She came to his rescue and I ended up killing her. Her last breath cursed me to an existence of apathy and becoming a beast. Guess it worked,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “That was eight years ago and ever since then, my ability to feel has been dying out while the beast has only gotten stronger.”

Your head spun with so much information, you almost felt dizzy. Did Din fight Moff Gideon? Was it his halo you chased eight years ago?

“Is that how you got the crack on your helmet and the scar?” you ventured, heart pounding.

“Mhm,” was his only reply. “How I lost my right eye too.”

The helmet was made of beskar, one of the strongest alloys in the Galaxy. Only a weapon strong enough would be able to melt it. But you couldn’t push him for more details, or it would be suspicious.

And did it really matter? Did you care that much about the Darksaber? Yes, you had spent your whole life looking for it; yes, you had promised your dying father you would finish the mission. But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“What was the kid’s name? What happened to him?”

“Grogu. He is Force sensitive, he went to the Jedi for training,” he pursed his lips, and your fingers smoothed out the crow’s feet around his right eye.

“You miss him,” you hummed, your fingertips tracing imaginary lines on his skin.

“I didn’t think I did. Till now,” he confessed, stirring under you. “I don’t know, it’s weird. Since last night I have started to… feel again. And it’s overwhelming.”

Your heart did a little jump against your ribcage. If he could feel now, did he feel for you?

You were too scared to ask, so didn’t.

“Maybe the curse is fading?”

“Maybe,” he said back, sounding unconvinced. “You hungry?”

You nodded.

“I’ll go get something. Bet Nau’ul has prepared a feast. Whether it’s edible or not, I don’t know.”

You chuckled at the joke and moved off him so Din could get up. In silence, you watched him dress, his back muscles rippling with every movement.

Yes, you could get used to this.

Fuck the Darksaber. Fuck everything. You just wanted to live your life. With him. Here, in Mandalore. Only if he’d let you.

It was selfish of you to think this way, but Din’s curse had become your blessing.

Every night since you discovered his secret, you’d go to his room and spend the hours of darkness with him. He would reluctantly take the helmet off, but each time you would reassure him he couldn’t scare you away, that what he thought he looked like didn’t matter in the slightest. And you meant every single word. In your eyes, he was perfect just the way he was.

There was still the issue of his Creed forbidding him, but you wondered if it was more habit than anything else.

And every full moon, you would follow him down to the Mythosaur lair to let him take you, excitement running through your veins every single time. You knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but allowing him to fuck you in beast form was exhilarating. Even with practice you had still not been able to take him fully ― his cock too big to bear. It was worse when you attempted a blowjob on him ― your jaw almost dislocated. But you were more than happy to try, obviously.

And of course, it helped him regulate, which was the most important point of all. He had told you he didn’t feel as cold either. Even if his body was hot to the touch, Din had explained how his organs, his blood, felt like icicles. Ever since the beast had had a taste of your warmth―Din’s words, not yours―it seemed like his feelings were slowly crawling back.

That had been interesting too. After so many years spent numb, Din had had a bit of trouble dealing with his emotions. Sometimes they were extreme, out of proportion even, but he was learning how to manage them. Although most days felt like one step forward and three back, especially when it was a touchy subject such as love.

You had tried, but Din was still of the idea that he couldn’t truly feel ― that this was just a glitch, a shortcut, but not the real thing. And because of his stupid theory, he didn’t want to hear you say anything about The Matter. You had seen how much he had improved, how much better he could deal with everything, and yet he wouldn’t listen to you in that respect.

You rolled your eyes, still thinking about it, as you trekked through the mud. It was a crispy morning, but the cold had started to recede. Poor Ca’nara had a faulty retractable third leg ― the inside mechanism was getting jammed regularly. You had decided to be proactive and walk to the landing site of your X-wing, in the hopes that some parts of your astromech droid were salvageable. An extremely long shot, yes, but you had to try at least.

In full armour, Din sauntered towards the dining room, where the three droids seemed to be conferring about something.

None of them heard him coming, and Nau’ul startled dramatically when he saw him.

“Oh! Alor! What― Uh, do you want something to eat?” he asked, looking at Mrs. Kri’gee and Ca’nara nervously.

Din frowned, suspicious of their jumpy, evasive behaviour.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbled as his eye caught a glimpse of something shiny Nau’ul was holding, trying to conceal it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, this? Well. You see, I― It’s― Nothing really. I don’t really know what―” his stammering was riling Din up.

He was a damn droid, not a fucking human. How could Nau’ul get edgier than himself? Unbelievable.

“Give,” he extended his hand towards the droid, palm up, and curled his fingers with impatience.

The three droids shared weird looks, but Nau’ul finally handed him the object.

Din turned around the metal item and as soon as he did, he recognised the beskar. Brows knitting, he inspected the grooves and quickly identified them as astromeridian lines. This was not a simple object; it was a Jedi star compass. Confused as to how this came to be in the possession of Nau’ul, Din unclasped the compass and lifted the lid.

His breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat. This was not any star compass; this was the star compass. One that all Mandalorians believed to be a myth. But the black plasma in the lodestone didn’t lie. In his hand he was holding the very same star compass that Tarre Vizsla had commissioned to keep track of the Darksaber in case it ever got stolen.

“Where did you get this?” he snapped, fingers clutching the device tight.

“I― Well, it’s complicated. I thought―”

“It’s hers, isn’t it?” he interrupted.

The memory of that day trip to your ship came back to him. A locket, you had said. Bullshit.

Nau’ul nodded.

“How long have you had this?”

“Weeks, Alor. I did recognise it from the lore I knew about House Vizsla, but we didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. She’s doing you good, Master, you’ve improved―”

“Unnecessarily? Are you for fucking real, Nau’ul?” Din replied angrily, teeth gritting.

Without expecting an answer, he turned around and stormed out of the room.

You were kneeling on the ground, elbow’s deep in the core of your old R3-D3 unit, trying to reach a hidden screw, when you heard heavy steps approaching.

“Good you’re here, I can’t get to this screw. I’ve been at it for five minutes now. Can you try?” you asked Din, who stopped inches away from your back.

When he didn’t say a word, you turned around and glanced up at him.

He radiated tension through every pore, his posture stiff and shoulders squared. Eyebrows furrowed, you got up, cleaning the palm of your hands on your trousers.

“What’s the matter, Din?”

“This. Why did you have this?” his voice transpired how mad he felt as he handed you an object you quickly recognised.

The star compass that Nau’ul had confiscated from you weeks ago. You had assumed the droid didn’t know what it was and hadn’t bothered to show it to Din.

Your eyes shot up to where you knew his were.

“I can explain,” you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his forearm.

“You better start talking now,” even if he hadn’t backed away from you, he felt so distant.

Your mind raced and your heart galloped inside your chest. You could lie your way out of this situation, but you didn’t want to. You loved him, and nothing else mattered. He would understand. Eventually.

“Din, listen to me, please. I’m not gonna lie to you: it is exactly what it looks like. My family, my tribe― we are trackers. Have been tracking the Darksaber for generations. I was raised to hate your people, but the message never really sunk in for me. Our purpose was to find the Darksaber and destroy it,” you explained while he remained deadly silent. “That was why I was travelling through the Mandalore system. I was tracking the Darksaber. I was going to Concordia, but I ran into technical problems with my X-wing and had to divert here. I think― I thought it was there.”

Until that night you sneaked out to the west wing. You had been caught before you could confirm your suspicions but were pretty sure that was what Din was hiding in the west wing. The reason he wouldn’t let you be anywhere nearby.

“But now you know it’s not in Concordia,” he finished for you.

You nodded.

“But I don’t care for it anymore, Din. Once I figured you likely had it, I made a choice. I chose you,” you whispered, closing in on him until your bodies met. “You have to believe me.”

He didn’t talk at all. Silence strung between you, dense and worrying, like a rope wrapping around your neck, forcing the oxygen out of your lungs. You didn’t want to panic, knowing that Din probably only needed time to think, to digest and ruminate.

Minutes went by and your grip on his forearm loosened. You were ready to take a step back, give him some space to process, when Din finally spoke in his modulated voice.

“I believe you,” a wave of relief washed over you, “and I choose you too.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and then climbed up your oesophagus. It was beating so hard, so fast, you were seconds away from passing out.

He chose you.

Before you could throw your arms around his neck with pure elation, Din took a step back and one hand reached towards the back of his belt. Confused, you followed the movement of his hand, a deep wrinkle burrowing between your brows.

Din presented you a black hilt, waved it a little, and then the black and white blade appeared, humming very loudly, although dimmer than what you expected. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Darksaber ― the item your whole family had been searching for, right there, in front of you, an inch away from your fingers.

Lifting your right hand, you reached for it.

Suddenly, a firing sound broke the silence and, inexplicably, Din leaned forward towards you, the Darksaber dropping from his hand.

You held him by the elbows, not understanding what was happening, as his hands grasped for you. Then a second firing noise uprooted a painful groan from him while he almost dragged you to the floor.

“Din? Din!” you whispered, on your knees with him in your arms, as your hands roamed his body.

You felt the warm blood before you could see it and panic settled in fast. He was profusely bleeding from two gunshots on his back, right below the beskar piece that covered his six.

“No, no. Wait. What―” you sobbed as Din groaned, his consciousness drifting away.

You were losing him fast, and you didn’t even know how.

“Are you okay? Is he dead?”

A male voice came from behind a tree near the cliff. A voice you had not heard in a long while, but quickly recognised.

Ashton.

Blaster still pointing at Din, Ash had frozen several meters away from you. What was he doing here? How did he get here unnoticed? Why? Fucking why?

But none of those questions left your mouth, gutted as you were, holding onto Din, worried he would slip away from you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, overwhelmed as you were.

Din stirred in your arms, and you saw the panic reflected in Ash’s eyes as he cocked the blaster in Din’s direction again. There was no time to think, to beg, to ask him to leave. To tell him you loved the man he was intent on killing.

So you did the only thing you could do. Your fingers found Din’s blaster in his holster, lifted it up, pointed to Ash, and shot.

The light beam flashed before it hit dead center between Ash’s eyes. He stumbled back and fell into the abyss behind him. And just like that, you had killed the only friend you had known.

You should have doubted your actions, but you didn’t. It all happened too quickly, and you had bigger worries than having killed one of the few people you cared about. Like losing the love of your life.

Dropping the blaster, you rushed to remove Din’s helmet.

“Din, please, just hold on. Please, stay with me. Please, don’t leave,” you screamed and cried, hands trembling and pressing on the wounds on his back.

His eyes fluttered open, only a tiny slit ― his gloved hand reached up, cradling your cheek.

“Cyar’ika,” he could barely talk. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you). Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, no. NO. You ain’t saying goodbye. No,” your words slurred as your sobs intensified, your heart breaking into a myriad of tiny pieces.

You removed the glove of his hand to kiss the palm, your tears streaming between his fingers. Yours wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

As you cried your eyes out, you noticed the Darksaber humming louder, almost deafening, and its light shining brighter. Its vibration called you, hearing your name inside your head. A Force deep within you awakening, beckoning you to touch it. A need as basic as breathing.

Through teary eyes, blinking fast, you gave in ― you grabbed it.

An electrifying sensation ran through you, all your muscles coiling at once. Your mind spiralled out of control, for a moment losing track of time and space. The Force was so intense, so primitive, you thought you would be obliterated by its magnitude.

When you could finally open your eyes, the blade had dimmed considerably and then it completely snuffed out. Your cries had not stopped though, so loud you almost missed Din’s voice.

“Mesh’la,” he rasped, trying to straighten his back, “you― you’re Force sensitive. You’ve used the Force of the Darksaber to heal me.”

Your wet eyes darted to him and then his wounds. Or where the wounds had been but no longer existed. Mouthing a gulp of air, you instantly dropped the Darksaber to hug him tight, crying louder than before.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. We’re okay,” he hushed, comforting you.

“I love you, Din,” you mumbled in the crook of his neck, relief running through you loosening your taut muscles. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me again or I’ll kill you myself.”

Din chuckled, one hand smoothing out your hair.

“Noted, cyar’ika.”

Cradling his handsome face, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Salty yet sweet. You kissed him again, looking for the solace of his tongue.

The wind carried some words you barely made out.

“Maker met.”

Four full moons had come and gone, and the beast was no more.

Din’s curse was broken. For good. Forever.

You couldn’t have asked for anything else. Anyone else. You loved him and he loved you back ― he had shown you many times. Right as he was showing you now.

Your lips brushed his tummy right above his belly button, leaving a trail of kisses as you found your way back to his mouth. Din was laying on his back, his rough hands caressing the back of your thighs as you kissed his scar and then his right eye, lips soft as a cloud.

He didn’t flinch anymore whenever you touched the sensitive skin or his blind eye. Instead, he sighed, as if your caress was soothing, calming. As if you could take away the pain he felt sometimes.

You sat back up on top of him, straddling his hips as his mushroom head hitched in your entrance, his hands compelling you to impale yourself. But you didn’t ― not yet.

Instead, you leaned over a bit, taking the helmet off the nightstand. It was heavy. Curious to know what it felt like, you put it on. The padding inside was soft, your face snug. It was slightly claustrophobic, but also comforting. Weird.

“It suits you, cyar’ika. You should consider taking up the Creed,” he mumbled, eyes full of desire, of yearning. Of love.

You chuckled and stirred your hips above him, the tip of his cock going in ever so smoothly.

“For you, I just might, Din.”

@baronessvonglitter @bishtrouille @natalieispunk @iknowisoundcrazy @almostfoxglove

306 notes · View notes

noyoucantpinmedown · 6 months ago

Text

The Bowers Gang When Their Partner Has Their Period

Basically headcanons on the boys' attitude towards periods and how they handle their afab partner having one.

Belch Huggings

While Belch was raised by his loving mom, I picture Mrs. Huggings being quite old-fashioned and therefore very sheepish when it comes to talking biology with her son. Poor woman barely made it through giving him the sex talk, and as a result all Reggie knows is that whatever happens during the elusive ''time of the month'', it's not fun. Despite his lack of knowledge, Belch will be very doting of his partner if he's told they're having theirs, or even if he thinks they might be (he will never ask, or say the P word.) His SO can expect even more cuddles, random store bought or home-cooked treats (Mama Huggins is proud of how considerate her boy is), supplies kept on hand in the glove compartment of his car, patience, and compassion. Will assume sex is out of the question for the time being, but if his partner asks, he's more than happy to oblige. Generally will check on his SO constantly to the point of being annoying, and is willing to do anything they want, being nothing but understanding and obliging the whole time, even if his partner is cranky and takes out their frustration on him. Clueless as he is, he's ready to do anything he can think of to help, and is eager to be directed on what his SO needs. Will it kill him inside to be seen out buying pads for his partner? Yes. Will he do it anyway without complaint? Also yes. 10/10 in terms of support.

Victor Criss

I headcanon Victor as having two younger sisters and one of them is around the Losers' age, so aside from actually having been educated by his parents, he has actually witnessed what it can be like. He's the best prepared for this scenario and the most mature about it. As most teenage boys, Vic is a bit grossed out by the whole thing, but he's determined to handle it maturely and discuss it openly with his partner. Once he knows Aunt Flo is in town, he'll steal some pads from his sister and mom's stash to keep in his backpack, along with some Advil for cramps. He will show empathy for his SO's aches and mood swings, but unlike Belch, he will not take his SO directing their frustration at him- they may be bleeding, but that does not get them a free pass to treat him badly. In terms of intimacy, he's squicked out by blood in a sexual context, so his partner is on their own for that one. Other that that, he's happy to provide whatever his SO needs- he'll cuddle and read with his partner when they're bedridden with cramps, supply them with warm drinks, listen to them rant, and provide plenty of affection.

We're done with the sweet boyfriends part- onto the shitty ones.

Patrick Hockstetter

Patrick's knowledge on menstruation amounts to sexist stereotypes, and shameless as he is, he's not afraid to talk about it. The type to bring it up whenever his partner is grumpier than usual (''Oh, I see. Shark week, is it?''), and enjoys coming up with names for it- they're about as gross as you can expect. He's curious about how it really works, though, which might make it even worse, because now his taunts are even more based in reality. The stereotypical ones don't really stop either, though. The only one who will not tell their partner if their clothes are stained in public, because it's funnier if they're walking around with a red spot on the back of their pants. Patrick has an uncanny ability to just know when his partner's having their monthly visitor without them having to mention it (because he's a stalker with great observational skills). Doesn't give a shit about what their partner is going through, no emotional support to be found here. He's just as likely to take mood swings and crankiness in good fun (but there will be some form of punishment if his SO crosses the line of what he considers entertaining sass) as he is to get bored with it and avoid his partner until they're in a more agreeable mood. But hey, he is not completely useless- will give his partner all the physical affection they want, because he enjoys his partner being clingy and it's easy to transition to sex from there. Every now and then he'll swipe treats and supplies from the store even if he is not asked for them. The more attached Patrick feels to his SO, the more likely he is to do it and the more likely he is to not ask for anything in return... the latter still isn't a lot, he'll still expect his partner to fall over themselves thanking him for his sacrifice and generosity (that being the one chocolate bar he stole while going to steal cigarettes for himself). Generally speaking though, for Patrick it's business as usual. Ditto for intimacy. The negative is that he will expect his partner to put out in some form of another; the positive is that his partner will not be without if they habe those kind of cravings, and absolutely nothing is off the table because we know Patrick is nasty as hell and really enjoys blood. If his partner really wants nothing to do with him in that department, no big deal! He'll just find someone who does while he waits out the crimson tide :) He's such a catch, guys!

Henry Bowers

Oh boy. So, here's the thing: unlike Patrick, Henry actually wants to help. Unlike Vic and Belch, Henry is too stoic and hard-headed to even touch the topic. All he knows about menstruation is wrapped up in sexism, so he probably thinks that ''it's not that big of a deal'', or that ''women play it up for attention''. But he's squeamish when it comes to the reality of All Things Afab, so if he pulls the ''are you on you period'' card when his partner is in a bad mood and his partner answers Yes, I am, expect blushing and stammering. Wants to help, but does not want to talk about it, and a lot of the things that would help he considers demeaning (he will not be caught dead in the feminine care aisle). Not much to offer in the way of emotional support, except awkward pats and clumsy attempts at validation. He will show his partner more grace than usual, but if they're the type to complain a lot, get snappy or emotional, he'll get very tired very quickly. As far as sex is concerned, Henry expects his needs to still be met but refuses to touch his partner below the hips- he won't push his SO more than once or twice, though, and will wait it out without bringing it up again. Generally better at the quiet moments: sitting with his SO while they nap or watch a movie, wordlessly giving them food or a hot water bottle and trying to blissfully ignore the whole situation as much as he can.

#bowers gang headcanons #bowers gang #it 2017 #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #victor criss #victor criss x reader #belch huggins x reader #henry bowers x reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #bowers gang x reader

345 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 2 years ago

Note

Hello I see your taking request again ! I’m so happy It’s been sooo long hope your doing well !?!

Can you write a reader x jasper

Reader is a vampire she has been with the cullens for ever like before Alice and jasper got there !

She’s as cool as a cucumber like no one has ever seen her mad

Well once edwards started seeing Bella and being a diva he makes a comment about jasper and reader loses it like full on throws him through a wall lol

Everyone is super shocked because they’ve never seen her like that and emmitts booming voice in the back round saying well never talk shit about jasper in front of reader again

everyone nods in agreement and jasper just looks at reader and says I love when your defending me love but let’s not put anymore people through a wall and everyone laughs

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: (Y/N) Cullen might be even-tempered and calm by nature. But when it came to her partner, no one gets by unscathed. Not even her own family.

A/N: I know I took forever to post this request, but I always take forever for everything 😅 though I hope you enjoy and that I did your request honor, anon. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST

If you’d like to be tagged in any story or make a request: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Tagging apparently has reached its limits for Twilight stories. It won't allow me to post with the list I have right now, so turning on notifications will allow you to know whenever I post anything new.

Karmic Retribution

There were certain unspoken rules to being a Cullen.

One of the worst ones, the oldest made all the decisions. This meant that, more often than not, Carlisle and Edward were the ones to determine the outcome for the family. And to that point, it had been fine. There was never anything truly holding them down to any place in particular, and they could travel any time they wanted.

(Y/N) was fine with that to an extent. She was on the same level as Edward in terms of age, and sometimes she felt she should have more leverage in family decisions than she had. But she had always been quiet, keeping her anger always at bay. And it helped that she had Jasper by her side.

Their connection was almost instantaneous.

When the messy bundle of blond curls walked into their home in Calgary, she knew he’d turn her whole life around. They grew close quickly. Spending almost every moment by each other’s side. (Y/N) could not remember her life before she met Jasper Whitlock. As time passed, the memory of her time without him seemed more and more like a dream rather than her past. To her, he had been there forever.

Though she did not have any special abilities, everything about her was extraordinary to Jasper. She became his lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat when he felt like drowning. Because most days he felt his head was always just barely above water. Treading on the line between fighting his animalistic instincts and his new family’s peculiar lifestyle.

(Y/N) could do to him what he was able to do for everyone else. She could read his emotions before he had a chance to name them, and she somehow found a way to make him calm and tranquil. She was everything he did not know he needed.

He had been afraid to tell her of his past. How he’d fought for the confederacy and had built and led an army of newborns in the south. He was ashamed of the lives he had taken, the people he had turned and promised eternity to in exchange for their loyalty, only to dispose of them one year later. All for what he thought was love. Jasper was frightened that the second he confessed to the sins of his past, (Y/N) would forsake him and push him aside.

Instead, he was met with a wave of compassion that washed over him. As his eyes stung from dry tears, (Y/N) provided him with a smile that he was sure could warm his frozen body. She placed a comforting hand on his cheek and gave his lips a soft kiss.

“Our pasts do not define the people we are today,” she had told him, nothing but love in her eyes. “The reason we are who we are now is because we have moved forward from what we did yesterday. You don’t need my forgiveness, my love. For the man I know now will never be the same as the man that was. What you need is to forgive yourself.”

At that moment, Jasper knew that his search was finally over. Though he still struggled with his hunger and considered himself a dangerous man, he’d found the person that could love him completely. A woman that had taken one look at the scars of his past — literally and figuratively — and, instead of recoiling in fear and disgust, had placed a kiss upon them and filled them with love and compassion.

“Do you know how lucky I am, darling?” Jasper had told her one day as they lay in a clearing somewhere in the snowy surroundings of Alaska.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) chuckled. Her fingers traced the stitching of the vest he wore, her head pressed against his chest wondering what his heartbeat could have sounded like. “I’d like to think I’m the one that is lucky. How many years did I spend on my own, waiting on my forever? Then you show up, with Alice in tow, and you change our family for the better. And now, I have someone to walk through life until the end of time.”

“Life is funny that way, huh,” he smiled. “And that is precisely what I wanted to speak to you about. I know our journey is seemingly endless and certain mundane things don’t particularly mean as much as eternity. But there is something that I want more than anything — mostly as a symbol of how much I love you. Because in this life and the next I want nothing more than to spend it by your side. So I ask you, (Y/N), would you do me the absolute honor of allowing me to be your husband?”

“For as long as love lives between us, yes. A thousand times yes.”

A wedding was such a monumental event for humans. For beings that stood the trials of time, it was a symbol of commitment. A way to bind their lives with something other than words. A simple promise made in the presence of the people they valued above everything else. That they were making the choice to intertwine their lives in all ways, regardless of any circumstances.

The event had been small, much to Alice’s dismay. The pair simply wanted their family and a few friends in attendance. Their love needed no impressive show, it simply was, and that’s how they wanted it.

In the family, they kept their heads low and out of the way. It was futile to insist on having more of a voice when it came to the decisions of the family. To that point, they had no quarrels with the choices the patriarch had determined for the clan.

Keeping to themselves allowed (Y/N) and Jasper to form a bond like no other. They didn’t need Edward’s mind reading to be able to hear the other’s thoughts; didn’t need Alice’s foretelling to know their life would be live and full of life. The couple had created the perfect balance between themselves and orbited around the family. Still, it was them against the world.

Jasper being the youngest — at least considered that way for being the last to join the family — was often the target for many quips in the family. From his stoic stare to his short fuse when it came to human blood, the blond would often be the butt of the joke. And it never seemed to anger him. He’d chuckle from time to time or roll his eyes at any lines that went just a little too far. But he never defended himself or asked them to stop.

His efforts were centered on keeping (Y/N)’s anger toward the family at bay. Though she was calm by nature, she despised the way their adoptive brothers picked Jasper apart. How they would jokingly criticize something the man could not control. It was often a topic of discussion when the pair enjoyed a rare moment of privacy.

“I’m going to squash them,” she huffed. “Are they not tired of the same jokes? Is there even an original thought in their heads?”

“There’s no need to worry your pretty little head over them, darling,” Jasper chuckled, placing a comforting kiss on her head. “I’m used to it by now.”

“But you shouldn’t be! Every day you work your hardest to control yourself around humans and I know how painful it can be for you. Then Tangina and Schwarzenegger come in and tell the same stupid jokes over and over again,” she exclaimed. (Y/N)’s arms flew up in frustration earning a chuckle from the man as he stared at her from where he lay. “It’s not funny, Jasper. One of these days I’m gonna blow and you’re not gonna be able to calm me down.”

“As much as I would love to see you say your piece to Edward and Emmett, I assure you I do not mind.” He took her hands in his, kissing the knuckles gingerly. “Their words do not affect me, darling. The only person whose approval I care for is yours.”

“And that you will have until the end of time.”

And that was the case for the next couple of years. Whenever they’d reach a new town the other two Cullen teens would joke about how Jasper could snap at any moment, and he’d wreak havoc in the city. They would say pick on him and laugh at him. The worst part, he simply took it, much to (Y/N)’s dismay.

She would grow angry, he would temper her emotions, she would complain about their brothers’ treatment behind their backs, and he would say it was fine. But it shouldn’t have been fine. He should never have gotten used to the unnecessary mean jokes from the older boys.

When they settled in Forks, (Y/N) already knew the cycle. New town, same jokes. The only difference this time, Edward grew obsessed with a particular human.

The day he’d come home from school muttering how he needed to leave for some time and hole himself up in Alaska, (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. There was Mr. Jasper-can’t-control-himself at the end of a downpour of blood frenzy. Everything he had jabbed at her partner with had come back to bite him.

She had laughed with Jasper that night, the jokes laced with actual worry that Edward would be the one to snap and attack a human. But the karmic retaliation had been far too exquisite for her to remain concerned. Revenge was always a very tasty treat.

But her small victory had not lasted long.

Only a week later, Edward had come back home with a recharged confidence. His woes about hurting Isabella Swan had died in a matter of seven days and he was ready to throw a hundred and ten percent toward forming a connection with the frail human.

And with Edward’s presence coming back, so did the overused jokes.

It had been a sunny afternoon in Washington and all the Cullens were stuck inside the house. Most of the morning had been uneventful, each of the family members reclused in their own rooms. The house was quiet and tranquil, peaceful. But that never lasted long. Especially when they were all home.

“So, Edward, this Bella chick is kind of… different, huh?” Emmett commented, his typical goofy grin spreading across his face. “But don’t you think it’s kinda dumb to get involved with a human?”

“Yeah, it might be,” he chuckled. “But it would be dumb of me to not even try. There’s just something about her that’s… intoxicating.”

“Yeah, it’s called human blood,” Rosalie spat. “Because she’s a human, Edward. The worst thing you could do is get involved with her. It could put her in danger. It can put all of us in danger.”

“There’s nothing wrong with testing the waters though,” he debated. “There’s truly something about her that calls to me. I need to see what it is.”

Anger had started sprouting inside (Y/N) as she listened to her family discuss the sudden apparition of Bella in their lives thanks to their adoptive brother. The cold that ran through her veins suddenly started growing warm, consuming her from the inside out. Not even the hand that Jasper had placed lovingly on the low of her back was enough to dissuade the ire that was taking over her.

“We’ve pretended to be humans for decades; I think I can do it for a couple of months with Bella. I just… I need to get to know her,” Edward continued. “I need to at least try.”

“And what will you do when she starts asking questions?” (Y/N) interjected. “How will you explain the cold skin? The fact that you don’t eat? The fact that you turn into a disco ball under the sun? How will you refrain from telling her you are a vampire?”

“I simply won’t tell her, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “It’s not that hard to not mention the fact that my family and I are a bunch of supernatural vampires.”

“You can’t even read her mind, Ed. How will you know she’s not coming up with conclusions on her own?”

“God, we can sit here a debate all night long on why it’s a bad idea for me to get in any way, shape, or form to get involved with Bella,” he retorted. “But it’s not really a family decision. I’m gonna see where things go with her, regardless of what any of you think.”

“So, you’re willing to put our family – our whole species – in danger, for a seventeen-year-old you met a couple of weeks ago?” (Y/N) questioned. Jasper was failing to calm her down. He could feel the angry red monster taking over her mind as she debated with Edward. Her emotions were taking over her reason and he could do nothing to help her. “I can’t believe you could be that reckless and selfish. Our entire existence depends on us being careful and guarding our secrets with our lives, especially in this town. If the Volturi don’t get you, I’m sure the wolves would be more than ready to put you in your place for breaking the treaty.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he laughed dryly. Everyone could tell he wasn’t taking the dangers seriously, he was not taking her seriously. To the older boy, it was merely a conversation. “If there’s anyone we should worry about recklessly exposing our secret is mister short fuse over there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That it only takes something as little as a prick on a finger and fidgety Jasper will be pouncing on a human. The safest way for any of us to keep the secret is for you to keep a short leash on your husband.”

Edward had once vowed to not use his ability on his family unless absolutely necessary, and he had always kept that promise. That afternoon, he regretted it.

As everyone laughed at his taunting joke, (Y/N)’s emotions reached their peak. Her eyes had grown darker, and her hands had balled into fists. She couldn’t resist the wrath that had taken over her. All she could see was red.

One second, the family was enjoying the gag against the Cullen. The next, (Y/N) had pushed Edward hard enough to go through a wall in their picturesque living room. Dust filled the area, fragments of the wall thudding against the wall, falling around the boy. A mix of glass, wood, and gypsum board had scattered around Edward’s body, his body coated in a fine layer of dust.

The same expression of shock washed over each of the family members, astonished at the sight in front of them. Calm-mannered and good-natured (Y/N) had finally reached her boiling point. For centuries, she had always been able to keep herself emotionally balanced, even without Jasper. None of them thought there would come a day when they would see her temperament break.

Her chest was heaving, her nostrils flared, and her hands still stretched in front of her. She wasn’t breathing, instead, she was letting out every ounce of fury that still burned inside her. In a split second, she regained her composure. (Y/N) smoothed down her clothes and her usual smile spread across her face.

Silence spread across the room, the kind that was enough to deafen ear drums. It was tense and uncomfortable, filled with a type of discord they had never witnessed between them before.

“I think we can all agree that all jokes about Jasper’s, uh, condition shall only be done in private or inside our heads,” Emmett’s voice sliced through the silence, his voice booming and reverberating against the walls. “That was… unexpected.”

“But we can all say it’s a long time coming,” Jasper grinned, turning his attention to the woman he proudly called his wife. “And, darling, as much as I love that you’re defending me, I think it’s best we don’t put more people through walls. Alright, love?”

“I guess that’s doable,” she smiled.

The rest of the siblings broke into laughter. All but Edward that wore a scowl on his face as he wiped away the white dust from his face. (Y/N) couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest. After years of biting her tongue and holding back her feelings, it felt exceptional to finally shut Edward up.

“Well, Edward, it seems you and Emmett will have to set aside some time to fix that wall,” Carlisle grinned. “Can’t have your new girlfriend coming over and seeing a person-shaped hole in our new living room.”

“Why do I have to do it? (Y/N)’s the one that pushed me!”

“Let’s call it your apology for taunting Jasper for the past few decades,” Esme responded before joining her retreating husband. “Now get to it, boys.”

“How is that fair?”

“What can I say, Eddie boy?” (Y/N) grinned. “Karma’s a bitch.”

Jasper and (Y/N) promptly sped outside, needing a moment to themselves after the chaotic scene that unfolded. When they reached the clearing they often sneaked out to, the blond wrapped his wife in his arms and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

“I can’t thank you enough for defending my honor,” he smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Though I can’t say Edward didn’t deserve it, maybe next time we can try to use our words rather than our hands.”

“I’m offended, Major. It was a calculated reaction after years of bullying.”

“(Y/N),” he lovingly reprimanded. “You know better than that.”

“Alright, love. I promise I won’t throw Edward into a wall ever again,” she smiled, pecking his lips. “But I can’t promise I won’t find other ways to get even.”

“I would never expect less.”

At that moment, everything was perfect. Nothing and no one could ever have predicted that in less than a year Bella Swan would infiltrate their family, that all the quips against Jasper would accidentally turn into reality, and that life as the Cullens knew it would drastically be altered.

Taglist: @agent-anna @banterbanner @alitav99 @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @mauvette268 @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot @abelbai000 @ridiculous-creature @mikariell95 @gryffi-ndor @jules-bea2308 @comic-book-overload @winter-soldier-101 @jessicasunderground @mxyee @hey-you-therexo @witchy-obeyme-freak @xcastawayherosx @kortniec696 @slutforsainz @Blackbluerose666 @DyslexicCatterpillar @sunflowerleii @gypsymusiclover @byelannie @a-sifu-hotman @zheezs14 @minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby @mushroomelephant @swidkid @skyesthebomb @user0ur0mom @nogitsune-the

@cometstail @volturiwolf @locokoca @esposadomd @this-is-a-bad-idea @nocturnalherb16 @rosalie-whitlock @nyctophilia710 @blueshoelaces @ems-alexandra @then-worship-at-my-altar @six-call @witchofhawkins @lovel-blog @sugajar @goodpeoplegotohellanyway @yuki254 @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @baebeepeach @catgirlpwr @krazyk99 @klf1999 @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @cinffy23 @toomanythoughts33 @sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-Loki-Bucky @honeywxter @haroldpotterson @revnamjinn @justamessandahalf @come-on-darling-honey @dove-chan32931

3K notes · View notes

justasecretflower · 2 months ago

Text

Dating Gyutaro before he became a demon🤍

You look lost, visit my garden?

- You’re his reason for life, you and his younger sister.

- you met him while he was limping back to his house after he had went out because his mother had brought a customer over.

- his little sister was with him, ume.

- also, he tried running away at first..

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·—————

I carefully walked slowly through the street, it was a chilly autumn night in the streets of Japan, the breeze swaying in between strands of my h/c hair, a quiet night, just me and the slight wind, snug kimono and contentment overflowing me. Suddenly, a man and a little girl appear before me, he looked around 20, with a girl attached to his hip. I took in the man and his sisters general appearance. The man was skin and bones, and wore a brown torn up kimono, his hair was black and scruffy, tied into a bun, and I was pretty sure I could smell him all 10 feet away. The little girl had white hair and also looked like she was deprived of food and water. A pang of hurt swelled up inside of me seeing they’re starvation so obvious with their sunken torsos and rib cages showing, a surge of compassion came right after as I gained the courage to speak up. “Hey, what’s your name? I’m y/n” I said softly, while tapping his bony shoulder. His head snaps towards me, his dull blue eyes blown out and red shot. I couldn’t even get a word in before he just..ran away.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

- it would take you a couple tries to get his trust, you gave him and his sister food, stitched up some of his torn clothes, a bunch of stuff.

- eventually, he let you in slowly, but just because it took him a long time to trust you, don’t think it took him a long time to fall in love with you..

- he fell first, and harder.

- he calls you his “sun-ray” while talking about you.

- when he goes to sleep he thinks about how much better you deserve while he tears up. You don’t need a burden like him, he was convinced.

- he feels like he shouldn’t even look at you, with him being so ugly, unclean, dirty.

- yet when you grab his cheeks and look into his eyes he just melts into your touch and hesitantly starts kissing your hands.

- he will bow down and kiss your feet no question if you ask ..

- when he sees you with ume he almost cries every time. Seeing his sister be so loved by some he so loves..

- his lips are chapped, so it’s not pleasant to kiss but he puts all of his love into his kisses you barely notice his chapped lips.

- he is forever grateful and SO in love with you.

- sometimes he just breaks down because he can’t pay for a proper wedding to marry you.

- his sister ADORES you. You guys brush each others hair, look at pretty kimonos together, it’s so fun :(.

- he’s always at your home despite feelings horrible about it. The first time he came over he didn’t move an inch from the front door for about 10 minutes because he kept saying he was too dirty to walk in your home.

- sometimes, he’ll lay his head on your thighs and just look at you with so much love you nearly pass out. He’s so in love with you it’s crazy, and it’s SO noticeable.

- his love language is words of affirmation. Please call him pretty even if he doesn’t believe it.

- he tells you how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to end up with you, how talented you are, almost daily.

- well, I hope nothing goes wrong :).

Demon slayer reqs open.

Tags

#gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x you #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro headcanons #Gyutaro imagines #Gyutaro hcs #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x reader head canons #kny x reader headcanons #i love you #justasecretflower

151 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 11 months ago

Text

It's 8 PM. I am listening to Frank Sinatra. And Jing Yuan makes me emotional therefore, I need to write some shit down. When will I ever write for any other HSR character that's not him???

Jing Yuan, a long living species, who falls for a regular human. A short living species.

He is a man who is able to play the waiting game, he is that kind of person who can and is willing to analyze every single possible move his enemy, or ally, can and is willing to make. Centuries of long and hard battles have desensitized him to certain brutality. Now, he is not some beast who is not capable of compassion but when you've lost so much, it's only natural for your heart to harden.

That is why the realization that he cannot play the waiting game with you dawns on him.

You may stand by his side now but where will you be in the next 10 years? The next 50 years? A century means nothing to him. It will all go away in the blink of an eye, forgotten and unnecessary.

His heart sinks at the thought of you not being with him. The way in which you coo after him, it gives him a reason to actually enter his office and leave it with a smile on his face. Who will be there for that cheeky little Cloud Knight of his when he's feeling pouty? Who will be there to smack Jing Yuan back to his senses as he takes yet another unnecessary nap?

One day, you will grow old and he will stay the same as he is. He will hold you in his arms and weep as he watches the life leave your eyes for good. Jing Yuan will be forced to watch the final piece of his heart be ripped away from him, stolen by cruel destiny. He could already taste the blood in his mouth as he bites back a scream of pain.

Curse the Abundance. Curse the entire Universe for taking you away from him. Curse your silly mortality, curse the fact that you were so perfect to begin with.

That is precisely why right now, he must have you. He takes you away and locks you in some private estate, where you can be safe. The thought of making you a long living species is tempting but he is not sure if he's willing to play that card.

You scream sometimes. You weep and cry to please let you go, that you love him but that this is not alright. And Jing Yuan can do nothing but to kiss your forehead and mumble sweet nothings in your ear.

He may perhaps even marry you in secret. If he does, his wedding ring would never come off his finger, not even after your passing. This sparks so many rumors on the Lofu but Jing Yuan does not acknowledge them. He is the only one who needs to know the true meaning of the ring.

Jing Yuan is not ready for your death. He may try to prepare but really, who is ever ready for something so painful?

He sits quietly next to you, the sheets beneath you all silk and perfection. The room reeks of medicine and flowers but it is missing the bright sound of your laughter. You are gone. Jing Yuan bites the inside of his cheek as he thinks of funeral arrangements.

But it's so hard to concentrate if his vision is filled with black spots.

Jing Yuan stands up, his feet shaky, his soul shattered. His heart is either dead or dying because you took it with you, wherever you may be. The General can feel the walls around him tightening, the air in his lungs knocked out as the floor is suddenly covered in golden leaves.

Ah, they look pretty. You would have liked those indeed. Jing Yuan reaches towards them, a long, ink black talon gently picks it off the marble floor as his long white hair covers his face.

Odd, he thinks to himself. His hands never looked so black before.

A nearby caw of a raven breaks him out of his trance as Jing Yuan looks to his left, where a massive mirror hangs. He is greeted with something that should horrify him, something that should make him weep but he has no tears left to shed.

The Mara is taking over him. It is too late to fix him.

Maybe, just maybe, the General of the Lofu does not want to be fixed. Perhaps he can be slain in battle and be reunited with you in the afterlife. Would you be happy to see him? Would you hold him in your arms, play with his hair and sing him songs in the quiet evening?

Perhaps you wouldn't show him such kindness. After all, he has hurt you in so many ways. He does not deserve your love. But he can't help but to reach out for it.

A final tear cascades down his pale cheek as Jing Yuan smiles at his reflection. A maid opens the door behind him and lets out a loud scream, her eyes shaking in fear as she witnesses the General transforming into the same kind monster he swore he would keep in check. Jing Yuan sighs as he feels his heart beat, for the final time.

He was coming to see you. He was going to see you again. He was ready to grovel and beg as much as necessary, if it meant that you would be by his side. Yes, that truly was a pleasant thought. You and him, together as the sun sets. He can still see the faint glimmer of the golden ring on his finger, his eternal promise to you. It shines like a lonely star in a massive galaxy, with no way to protect itself.

However, not even stars can live forever.

And just like that, the world goes dark.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #yandere jing yuan #honkai star rail #honkai jing yuan #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #yandere hsr

776 notes · View notes

radioactive-earthshine · 5 months ago

Text

Orla's Non-Bat Comic Recs.

Hello folks, in light of the 'all published comics are BAD' wave that has been swept everywhere recently I would like to share a collection of comics that are good actually and are generally isolated (you don't need a spreadsheet to read them).

1.) Impulse (1995)

Why: This is about a neurodiverse coded teenage refugee from the future who cannot live with his blood family in the 20th century due to circumstances that are beyond his control. It is about learning to adapt to a world that doesn't make sense, and learning to love it too. As time goes on Bart learns how to love and he discovers who he is and what is important to him really. All the while some of the most chaotic things happen that you may ever see in a comic (Bart tricks the whole school into getting into a brawl and drives a car off a cliff). Primary themes: Found family (for real), loss, immigration coding, neurodiversity, foster homes, friendship, self discovery, school. Trigger warnings: child abuse, ableism, ptsd, gangs and gun violence (a shocking amount) mental illness. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. Reckless Youth - collects Bart's first appearances from The Flash plus issues #1-#6 in Impulse. Flash/Impulse: Runs in the Family - collects Impulse #1-#12 plus supplementary issues from The Flash. Mercury Falling - Collects the entire Mercury Falling arc.

2.) Jack Kirby's New Gods (1971)

Why: This is the epic that started it all with Darkseid as he scours the earth in search of the Anti-Life Equation. It is about many deep layers of history involving the New Gods, the divide between New Genesis and Apokolips. In desperation to stop an endless war Darkseid and Highfather of New Genesis agree to a pact - to trade sons and in return a long period of truce and a ceasefire would pass between worlds. Highfather agreed, trading his son for Darkseid's whom he raised with love on New Genesis. Orion, years later, is a god of war and he fights for New Genesis and he fights for Earth, undogged he persists in vanquishing Darkseid's evil wherever it dwells. But Orion has a secret, and deep shame, for he experiences anger and wrath like no other on New Genesis but there is deep compassion and love that tempers it. As Orion fights for Earth he uncovers many secrets about himself, and at his side is his 'friend' Lightray who knows the darkness in him but never turns away. Primary themes: war, anger, ptsd, secrets, space opera, family, anti-war, malice, self discovery Trigger warnings: ptsd, this was written in the 70s but was pretty liberal for its time, still has some awkward moments that are slightly sexist and racist (mostly with names of black characters Vykin the Black and Black Racer which some people are uncomfortable with). Available in Trade Paperback: Complete. 1 book. Jack Kirby's New Gods - Collects all issues of Jack's 1971 series plus Even Gods Must Die and The Hunger Dogs. NOTE: Jack Kirby's entire Fourth World epic with Mr. Miracle and The Forever People is also highly recommended and is part of the New Gods tale. All 3 series has been complied into one massive trade called Jack Kirby's Fourth World, and all are available individually as well. Either way you might be able to find these at your library, or on Hooplah.

3.) Orion by Walter Simonson

Why: Decades after Jack Kirby wrote his final chapter for New Gods Orion finally gets his solo where he faces his father on Apokolips and steps up as its ruler. Now the leader of Apokolips Orion begins the arduous task of cleansing it of its malice and cruelty, a feat that is not easy and even more so when he does it without aid. With sinister deception at every turn Orion struggles and finds himself being tempted to use the very force that he was sworn to protect everyone from; the very anti-life equation itself. Primary themes; deceit, temptation, rebirth, life and death, redemption, mercy, compassion, love, forgiveness. Trigger warnings: torture, sexual assault implications. Available in Trade Paperback - Complete. 2 books.

4.) Barda by Ngozi Ukazu (NEW!!)

Why: This is a graphic novel and is a retelling of Barda as she comes to understand love and what she really wants from her life all while navigating the cruelty of Apokolips. Primary themes: love, cruelty, malice, torture, imprisonment, hope Trigger Warnings: torture, execution. Single complete graphic novel.

5.) Superman: The Harvests of Youth by Sina Grace

Why: This is a heartbreaking coming of age story about Clark Kent as a teenager in Smallville as he finds his place among his friends, family and himself as an alien during a time of death and hatred. It is a young Superman story that is incredibly relevant today in an age of internet toxicity and leaves you feeling hopeful. This blends some elements from Smallville (the show) but tweaks them to make this its own unique bubble world that feels believable and fresh. Primary Themes: toxic masculinity, incels, bullying, suicide, capitalism, teenage coming of age, teenage romance, high school Single complete graphic novel

6.) Superman Smashes The Klan by Gene Luen Yang

Why: In the 1940s the Superman Radio Show released the story "Clan of the Fiery Cross" that told a terrifying story about the KKK targeting a Chinese-American family that moved from Chinatown into Metropolis white-dominated suburbs following WWII. This is a graphic novel that is based on the same story. Primary Themes: racism, identity issues, internalized racism, police brutality. Single complete graphic novel, and also has 3 separate novels.

7.) Bad Dream: A Dreamer Story by Nicole Maines (New!!)

Why: This is Nia Nal's solo and origin story that has been confirmed to take place in the main verse for the current comics. Nia was born and raised in a small heavily isolated Sanctuary where aliens live safely. Even among dozens of alien species Nia is still seen as different as she is the only person who is trans. To complicate everything even more, Nia inherits her people's precognitive powers when her sister Maeve was raised her entire life to accept the powers into her. Terrified of her new powers and destroying her family by revealing them she inherited them instead of her sister, she flees from her hometown to Metropolis where she for the first time in her life meets other queer people. But there is a threat to her family on the horizon, and in order to protect them she must go back and face her fears. Primary Themes: transphobia, self discovery, xenophobia, acceptance, fearfulness, family, secrets, deceit. Trigger Warnings: see above, also internalized queerphobia. Single Complete Graphic Novel

8.) Static: Season One

Why: This is a modern retelling of Milestone Comic's Static as bullied nerd Virgil Hawkins comes into his powers at a protest when police discharge an experimental tear gas. The gas leaves many of his classmates dead, but some like him gain amazing powers - unfortunately some other people, like his bullies, also gain powers. Caught between law enforcement, capitalism, and the complexities of being a new teenage superhero Virgil works to uplift his community and stay strong within his nerdy friend group. This series is heavily based on the Static Shock TV show so fans of that show will be delighted with familiar faces, and names. And yes, Richie Foley is gay. Primary Themes: racism, police brutality, bullying, anger, frustration, dehumanization. Trigger Warnings: See above Available in Trade Paperback - Complete in Static: Season One which collects all six issues. Note: We also have its sequel Static: Shadows of Dakota out as well.

9.) Superman: American Alien

Why: This is a collection of short stories about Clark at varying stages of his life that range from funny to incredibly heartfelt. Primary Themes: finding ones self, self discovery, compassion Trigger warnings: I cannot think of one Available in Trade Paperback - Complete as Superman: American Alien which collects all 7 stories.

10.) Legion of Super-Heroes: Post-Zero Hour Reboot

Why: In the 30th century R.J. Brande Industries creates the Star Gate System, finally connecting the galaxy closer than it ever had before. Travel that once took months or years to complete now could only take hours and with it came the United Planets with Earth as its home headquarters. In an effort to promote the United Planets and unify the galaxy, the Legion of Super-Heroes was formed by Brande as a peacekeeping unit and an inspiration to cooperation. Sadly, it was co-opted by political parties and turned into a draft for talented teenagers to serve, or risk their planet's enrollment in the U.P. Over the course of over 200 issues teenage super heroes are given unfathomable responsibility and power while unifying to protect their galaxy and friendships while combating xenophobia and political corruption. This series is everything people wanted TTv3 to be but never got. Primary Themes: Dehumanization, loss of autonomy, death, life, space, technology, capitalism, political corruption, manipulation, deceit, hope, romance, found family Trigger Warnings: See above plus ableism and teenage pregnancy. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. We have 2 volumes called Legionnaires which collect approximately 20 issues, plus extra content, of this run. We also have various other trade collections such as Legion Lost in its entirety.

11.) Ascender and Descender by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen

Why: Tired of superheroes? These are two separate series that follow the same story about a young companion robot named Tim who was assigned to be his human brother's best friend and companion. Unfortunately, during a mining accident his entire colony had to flee and leave him behind as they attempted to escape toxic gas. 10 years have gone by since then, and a lot has changed in the world since he was shut down. Mostly being 95% of all robots have been destroyed and are targeted for destruction after a mysterious robotic alien force attacked all sentient worlds and obliterated the populations down to catastrophic levels. All Tim wants to do is find his brother Andy, but what has become of Andy in 10 years, and what will happen to him in 10 more years after they reunite? This story takes place over 20 years as Tim and Andy both grow and change, as they face the challenges before them and unravel the mystery of the Artificial Intelligence that swore to destroy all organic life. Oh, and magic is also involved too. Primary themes: hatred, violence, abuse, xenophobia, forgiveness, found family, brothers, dehumanization, life, death, magic, balance, manipulation, deceit, mysteries, will probably remind you of Mass Effect. Trigger Warnings: see above Available in Trade Paperback: the entire series is available across multiple books.

That's all I have for now folks, I'm tired of writing.

#comic recs #i am so tired of writing #i have so many more but this is just what I thought of first

187 notes · View notes

bellarkeselection · 3 months ago

Text

His Compass of Harrenhal - part 3

Part 2 - Part 4

Tag list - @only4thefics @superintenseart @universallyrascaldreamercookie @uniquecroissant @vavafaure1994

It had been a few weeks before we had received the news that Grover Tully had died. Once receiving that letter I hadn’t managed to will myself out of my bed chambers that I shared with Daemon. Having my whole body buried underneath the covers while I just cried in a ball hearing the heavy door creak open and my husband’s voice came out into the room. “Y/n, what are you doing underneath the covers?”

“I’m not feeling well, husband.” I muttered not removing the covers off of my face while I cried. I wasn’t quite sure how much emotion I could show towards him about the passing of my Lord father.

His boots could be heard scuffing across the stone floor till I felt the mattress dip down at his weight while he crawled underneath the covers and wrapped his arms around my shaking form seeing the tears still coming from my eyes. “I don't really know what it's like to lose a parent. But I don't remember as much of my mother as I wish I did.” He gently ran his through my hair letting my tears soak his shirt with tears.

“I'm really glad you’re here. I don't want to be alone right now.” I snuff into the crook or his neck.

He kissed the crown of my head before he heard someone knock on our door. “I'm right here, little fish - Go away. We don't wish to be disturbed!”

“My apologies, my prince. Simon peaked his head inside our chambers altering us. “The Riverlands lords are waiting for you, your grace.”

Daemon and I followed Strong outside seeing all the Riverland lords and young Oscar waiting for us. I fixed my gaze only on my nephew. “Be welcome, my lords...and you have my thanks for answering my summons. I know I'm not the man my grandsire was, but I hope to begin well, and go on from there.” My very nervous nephew cleared his throat trying to address the bannermen properly.

Daemon moved away from my side shaking his fist in the air before pointing to the young lord. “Well said. One thing is clear...the Rivermen honor the old ways and abide by tradition. Here, then, is tradition. Grover Tully is dead. Lord Oscar raised up in his place. You have been summoned here to swear anew your fealty to him, and as his bannermen, answer his call.”

“And what would that call be?” A Riverlord I couldn’t recall the name of asked out into the open.

Daemon rested his left hand on the top handle of his sword that was attached to his hip. “In his wisdom, he has pledged his house, and yours, to me.”

“Lord Oscar, for generations we have been guided by the judgment of your forebears. Why should we now follow a boy, younger than my own sons, when you will align with one who will desecrate the innocent to reach his aims?” Lord Piper challenged my nephew.

Lord Blackwood pushed two other men who had chains wrapped around their wrists before the group. “I did only what was necessary, my lord. And I now deliver to you the traitor. Amos Bracken and his son.”

“No more traitor to his land. than you, Willem Blackwood.” Lord Piper scoffed at Lord Blackwood.

“I take to heart your words, Lord Piper, and I agree, I-I-I am young. And I have no love for Daemon Targaryen, unlike my beloved Aunt Y/n seems to. He has dishonored himself and the crown with his...comportment here.” Oscar turned back towards me and Daemon very slowly making me feel nervous knowing that me choosing to be with Daemon now put a target on my back against my former family House Tully. “Nevertheless, having so little experience to guide me, my best course is to defer to the oath my grandsire swore to King Viserys when he named Rhaenyra his heir. I see no reason to cast aside loyalty. no matter how loathsome I may find her representative, the prince.”

Daemon interrupted the young lord. “King. Mind your tongue, boy.”

“Daemon, don’t.” I stepped forward squeezing his forearm causing his purple eyes to drift down to meet my soft gaze.

Oscar slowly stalked over to the dragon prince getting in his face not fazed by what he had said. “Will you have our army or not? I am, in the end, a Riverman and the word of my house stands, even if certain people are unworthy of it.”

“Your Lord Oscar is bold. But he is perhaps not wrong. I may have been a touch enthusiastic. in pursuing my aims. But don't allow my failings to...keep you from supporting an upright man.” Daemon stepped beside Oscar shifting his gaze around to the other lords that surrounded them.

Lady Mallister spoke up. “Lord Oscar, we honor the old ways, as Prince Daemon says and the old ways call for justice to be done.”

“Justice has been done. They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heel. And now, we unite before our liege lord...and our king consort.” Lord Blackwood yanked the two men who were his prisoners forward, eyeing his ledge lord to see if he was impressed or not by his actions.

“I accept you as my vassal, Willem Blackwood… but...I am Lord Paramount of all River Houses. And there is only one answer for the crimes you visited upon your neighbors.” Oscar raised a brow with a look of disgust to him.

Lord Blackwood wasn’t expecting that reaction from his lord. “I did only what His Grace the king required of me.”

“It is true that he made clear his base desires, but you did not have to pursue such savagery. You did it... because you wanted to.” Oscar deepened his voice in a threatening manner to one of his bannermen.

Another lord in the crowd raised his voice. “Our young lord speaks truly.”

Oscar simply declared. “Seize him.”

“God's no.” I gasped and brought a hand up to my lips briefly forgetting how we dealt with traitors in the Riverlands.

Willem Blackwood attempted to fight against his loyal lords dragging him before their Ledge Lord. “Don't fuckin' do this. Your Grace, command them. I've only served you. Command them.”

“If His Grace wishes to show contrition for his acts and to prove himself deserving of our banners he must now rectify his grievous error. Denounce your crimes...and dispense justice.” Oscar didn’t draw his sword and rather focused his eyes on the dragon prince telling him that he would be the one to take the lord's head.

“Oh, dear.” The knight who currently watches over the castle watched with nerves when my husband drew his sword and moved forward over Lord Blackwood who had been thrown down in front of him on his knees.

I didn’t realize a scream escaped my lips at the exact same time when Daemon raised his sword above his head and then lowered it beheading the man. “Ahh! D - Daemon.” I croaked with water eyes as he came back over to me, dropping his sword on the ground and just leading me inside the old castle.

“I didn’t think you’d have to see something like that. Are you - is the baby okay?” He asked me with a much gentler tone compared to the more serious one he had delivered to the Riverland Lords outside.

Placing one hand over his that was resting on my swollen belly I whispered meeting his eyes. “We’re alright, my king.”

“Good. I won’t lose my wife and little dragon if I can help it.” Daemon rested his forehead down against mine and I smiled about to kiss him till another set of doors around was flung opened by Simon Strong.

“Your Grace, my lady. Queen Rhaenyra has landed near the castle. She is requesting your presence, my prince.”

Clutching the fabric of Daemon's tunic in my fingers he pulled my head against his chest while I whispered under my breath very much terrified. “That can't be good for me.” Either she would accept me or try go feed me to her dragon.

125 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 1 year ago

Text

Goddess of the Luo River ~ Qin Shi Huang x Reader

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.

What lies behind the mask of the 'King Where It All Began' ...?

He... Was the most cursed prince in all of History.

It is held that in the year 260 BC, at the end of the battle of Chang Ping, Bai Qi, General of the Qin Army, had the captured soldiers of the Zhao army buried alive en masse. According to the records of the Grand Historian Shi Ji, the number of men killed was over four hundred and fifty thousand.

The following year, a member of the Qin royal family being kept as a hostage in Zhao, Zichu had an affair with a Zhao dancer. Their child, born in enemy territory, was the boy who would one day become Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of the Unified China. Ying Zheng.

However, in 257, Zichu returned to Qin alone, and his mother, Lady Zhao, abandoned him. At just two years old, he was cast away by his father, his mother... And his country. King Zhaoxiang of Qin invaded Zhao and laid siege to its capital, Handan.

Five years later, when the little prince was merely seven years of age, living on the outskirts of Handan, he would return to his small and secluded home, having to see the insults and hostile drawings on the walls made by the citizens, and endure the ostracising and death threats from the guards.

Ever after Qin's siege of Handan, Zhao continued to hold Ying Zheng hostage. They placed him under harsh supervision, keeping him alive but never allowing him to live, all while he bore the scorn of the Zhao people.

One day, however, he will experience the foreign feeling of joy for the first time in his life; As he went to buy some groceries, receiving the hatred of the people, a young lady around his age, wearing the simple clothes of a commoner, jumped in defense of him.

"This boy did nothing wrong! Why do you continue beating down on a child who had nothing to do with the massacre? You hate on him, though you should be hating on the evil general Bai Qi, and the King of Qi who committed such atrocities! The sins of the father shouldn't be passed down on an innocent child!" the prince's heart throbbed in shock and flatter, watching someone actually protecting him, let alone say such words about him! "Shut your mouth, wench, what do you know about war and politics?!" one of the men surrounding them spat at her, grabbing her by the neck of the dress. "This child is the reason your father and brother were buried alive by the enemy, along with hundreds of thousands of other good men who protected our country!" "It wasn't this child who gave the order. It wasn't this child who killed my family, nor anyone else's. Your hearts are filled with malice and scorn from loss and poverty, but that doesn't give anyone the right to use an innocent child as a scapegoat for the evil-doings of the higher ups. It's the fault of them and the constant civil wars happening throughout the country! This country will never heal unless we show compassion and understanding!" such beautiful words, such a progressive and revolutionary thinking from someone as young as her! The prince was highly impressed, but he couldn't find any strength in his body to move, he was rooted to the spot, watching the adults throw the girl to the ground, kicking her mercilessly. "If your father heard you, he'd have disciplined your rudeness until it all bled out! How dare you, a stupid, uneducated woman, speak back to a man? Your father would have beaten you until you learnt to bite down on that vile tongue of yours." she hadn't let out a single yelp, nor did she curse or complain until the punishing was over and the crowd dispersed.

"What do they know of my father, anyway? He was a kind man, he'd never hit me for speaking my mind." the girl scoffed, getting up on her feet and patting her clothes. "Are you alright, My Prince?"

But the prince felt like crying; He wanted desperately to throw his arms around the girl, thank her for standing up for him, for defending and protecting him, but at the same time, she was bleeding and bruised after her feat, and it was all because of him. "F-Forgive me... Forgive me... Because of me, you... You got hurt... I'm so sorry..." he wanted to cry... He wanted to cry so badly... "Aiya, don't say that. It wasn't you who hurt me, you are innocent in all this mess. It is the evilness that hurt me, along with these wars and crimes that keep happening." she sighed softly. "If only there was one man who could unite the country and stop the civil wars, the people would be living in peace and harmony, and the seed of hatred would rot." she shook her head dismissively, before smiling at the boy. "My Prince, I can see you are desperately trying to bite down your tears - You needn't, not in front of me. If you wish me to, I can be your shoulder to cry on, or a reason to smile. You are a kind child, you don't deserve everything that's happening to you." the girl held his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Let me show you a special place."

Thus, the girl dragged the little Prince to some part of the outskirts where he's never been before; An abandoned garden that though unattended to, still retained its beauty and grace, with green plants and colourful flowers as he's never seen before. Truly, this must be the prettiest part of all Zhao, the boy thought.

From a hidden spot inside a thick bush, Y/N dragged a chest filled with the most expensive silk clothes and beautiful accessories - And even a pipa lute and make-up! "I've always loved dancing, you see. This place is my special place. Mum showed it to me, and grandma showed it to mum. Since when this chest has been here, or when did the garden get abandoned, I do not know, but I am happy regardless." she giggled softly, discarding the ratty outer layer of her clothes and putting on a lovely pink dress. "My dream has been, since I've seen mum dance for the first time, to become a dancer at the high court. I love the pretty dresses and all the accessories, and the music also. Alas..." she smiled sadly, trailing her fingertips softly across the melodious strings of the pipa. "Men with wealth and status care little that a dancer is not a courtesan, and there is no one to protect us from their lecherous hands."

Ying Zheng could only sit down and watch the girl before him transform into the most graceful fairy, and with elegant moves, her body flowed like the river through a flower meadow, and the orchid fragrance in the Spring wind. He was completely mesmerised by the beauty in front of him. "My grandma danced for grandpa only, and my mum for my dad. I, too, hope to one day marry the love of my life, and bewitch him with my dancing." her smile was so carefree and filled with glee that the prince found himself completely enchanted. "But... I like to dream big. I may be just a simple, common girl, with no family, no money and no status... In spite of this... I do hope that somehow, I would be able to dance in front of people and make them happy, and smile, with my dancing." she glided around the flowers like a peony nymph, her pink skirts flying around her like the rich petals of said flower. "Until then, I suppose I should just continue perfecting my choreographies." "Y-You dance beautifully." the prince managed to stutter out, still under the afterglow of the dance, and the stunning pose she ended in. "If it matters, you made me feel very happy." "Hao!" she giggled sweetly. "You have a gorgeous smile. I hope to see you smiling so genuinely all the time when we're together."

The prince continued to blush deeply, though his heart was throbbing with joy as never before. A single day, however, only has so many hours, and with the afternoon gone, the Sun was setting and the starry skies were reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

"W-Would it be too rude and daring t-to ask you to please be my friend?" the boy bowed down humbly at her, only to hear a sweet giggle. "Y/N. Call me Y/N. And I will call you by your given name - Zheng." she quickly took the jade pendant from her sash and tied it to his own. "There, a token of my care and friendship for you. Now that we call each other by our given name, we are soul bound." "B-But... I-I don't have anything to give you..." the boy's lips trembled with emotion. "Hmm... Let me think..." her sweet smile turned mischievous, as she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Remember what I said about the wars? That only the King of all Kings can unite our country and bring peace?" he nodded silently. "When you become Emperor, don't forget about me. That's the only thing I wish from you. To be friends forever, no matter what the course of time may bring for us. How's that sound?" The little prince looked up at her, his starry eyes sparkling with joy and love, and a soft blush painting his porcelain cheeks. He grinned widely, like a happy child, and he repeated the single word that she adopted from her - A word that will become his most favourite word. "Hao!"

Many days passed, and the friendship between Zheng and Y/N only grew stronger, and so did their crush on one another. Y/N became even more protective over the boy, thus receiving even more scorn and disciplining - The adults could afford disciplining an orphan girl with no status, but they couldn't beat the Prince. Even his deep sorrow dissipated when he saw her dance.

That is, until Y/N walked him home one afternoon, and there, waiting for him, was a woman, blowing into a spinning windwheel. "Are you Ying Zheng?" the stern-looking woman asked. "Who asks?" Y/N frowned, stepping protectively in front of him, glaring at her viciously - But the boy was mellow and didn't want to upset anyone, nor incur another's wrath, and he simply bowed and affirmed that it was him, the prince. "I didn't think you'd be so young. Tsk." she frowned, rolling her eyes. "Who are you and what do you want with the Prince?" Y/N's loud and firm voice made the woman's eyebrow rise. "I'm Chun-Yan, his new live-in caretaker and bodyguard. Which means..." she jumped off the stone lamp and though she could tower over the prince, as the girl was right there, shielding him, she still felt intimidating. "I can roll you, fold you, or do whatever the hell I want with you." "Yes, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you." the prince bowed deeply, only for the girl to hiss at the woman and close her fan, bonking her in the head. "Who do you think you are, threatening a child like this? I'll kill you if you even look at him the wrong way." Chun-Yan was rather amused by the braveness of this peasant girl, and she scoffed, straightening up and walking towards the humble home of the prince. "Well, whatever. First things first, show me around this place."

As she opened the doors, she noticed the dilapidated state of complete disrepair that the small home of the hostage prince was; A complete dump filled with broken windows and walls, and furniture, mold growing everywhere and everything was shit.

"God, what a dump this is! Though, I guess it suits a reject from the Qin royal family." the nasty comment made Y/N yell at her again. "Fuck off, will you?!" the woman stared in shock - A little girl cursed like a sailor man! "You are just as evil as all the others around! We don't need you here! Go away! You're only going to hurt him, you evil, nasty woman!" "D-Don't worry, Y/N! It's really okay!" Yin Zheng forced a wide smile on his face. "Would you like something to drink? If water is alright, I'll go fetch some." he bowed again. "... Are you really seven?" she muttered in disbelief before slumping down on the table. "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. "A kid your age oughta be crying or throwing a fit at the drop of a hat, but you've just been grinning ear to ear this whole time. It's givin' me the creeps." Y/N didn't even have the time to yell at the woman again, for the prince started dancing around like a monkey. "Are you makin' fun of me?!" "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE ALREADY?!" Y/N's anger was through the roof. "Who do you think you are, treating him like this?! I bet you lost someone to the burying, didn't you? Well, that's you and EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS CITY! INCLUDING ME!" she glared up at Chun-Yan, who looked flabbergast at the girl. "I lost my dad and brother! My mum killed herself from grief! I've been all alone to survive and fend for myself since I was barely four years old - But I don't go around blaming a child for the evil-doings of those warmongers! Why is it so hard for adults to understand that Ying Zheng did nothing wrong?! That you should be blaming THEM, not a child who was barely a BABY when it happened!" the woman was stunned. "You are a woman! Women are supposed to be gentle and caring towards children! You are a disgrace to all of girl-kind!"

The woman remained silent for a few seconds, staring down at the gleaming eyes of the girl who started crying from the deep rage she felt - And suddenly, Chun-Yan felt guilt and remorse. The girl was right, she wasn't any different than everyone in Handan, or Zhao itself. To think a child would have more wisdom than a rage-blinded adult...

"Let's clean this place already. You can't expect me to sleep in some dingy hut like this." Chun-Yan scoffed, taking the broom and beginning to clean this place properly - Though no amount of work could properly make this run-down home into a beautiful and safe haven.

Regardless, Ying Zheng and Y/N helped in the cleaning up, and though the boy felt incredibly on edge around a stranger, Y/N and Chun-Yan were constantly yelling at each other. The place was... Pretty loud and tense - Yet thus began their unusual pseudo-familial life.

Chun-Yan took the two children for grocery shopping again, only to see the true horrors of the prince's daily life, as one of the merchants threw the food on the ground, urging the prince to eat the sand-filled meat - At the same time, Y/N quickly jumped to shield the boy, as the people around started glaring at him, accusing him of killing their children or relatives. They all wanted to kill him, while he could only force a smile and bow at them humbly.

Anger. Curse. Hate. Curse. Kill. Curse. Evil. Curse. Grudge. Curse. Sad. Curse.

When they returned home, Chun-Yan stopped the lone boy from going to rest, and revealed the many injuries on his body. Apparently, whenever he saw someone getting injured, his own body started getting scars in the same place, and feel the pain of said person. Y/N knew, and that's why she tried her best to protect him, but it wasn't always working. It was all because of the constant hatred from the people of Zhao that he developed such an accursed condition.

It was just a little pain, he'd say. The wounds will heal, eventually... Though his body said another thing, and he almost fainted. Ying Zheng's smile had been instinctively learned by him at the mere age of seven, as a way to allay, even only slightly, the hatred constantly searing his body. "Some day, maybe they'll forgive me... Won't day?" a most pitiful armor.

"Forgive you...? Who do you think you're kidding here?! Huh?! How the hell can you just keep grinning like an idiot?! Why don't you get angry?! Why don't you hate them?!" Chun-Yan started crying - She was now fully understanding Y/N's angry tears and the frustration she felt at the way Zhao was treating an innocent child. "What happened back then... At Chang Ping... HAS GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! IT ISN'T RIGHT THAT YOU'RE GETTING HURT! SO STOP FORCING YOURSELF TO HOLD BACK! IF YOU WANNA CRY, THEN CRY! IF YOU'RE FEELING MAD, THEN LET IT OUT! STOP KILLING YOURSELF FROM THE INSIDE AND LYING TO YOURSELF ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL!" she yelled at him, falling on the ground weakly, watching the still forced smile on his face. "G-Get angry...? Cry...? I-I could never do that... B-Because I'm... I'm the child of a nation that kills people. I-I'm a cursed child... Th-That's why, I..." for the first time in his life, Ying Zheng felt the embrace of a mother. "It doesn't matter how awful your parents are - Their kid doesn't deserve to be punished! You haven't done anything wrong, nothing at all..." tears were drenching her face, all the guilt and regret overwhelming her. "Y/N was right... Y/N cares so much for you, she only wants the best for you." she found herself speaking in a milder voice. "You're a kind person, who understands people's pain. Your wounds are proof of that, not some punishment or curse." the boy's body was trembling violently. "Ying Zheng. You can live however you want to live."

For the first time in his life, Ying Zheng allowed himself to wail out all of his distress, all the pain, the agony and suffering he's been feeling this entire time, and his mother figure encouraged him. "Why me?! I haven't done anything! Nothing at all! I hate them! I hate everyone! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT ALL!!!!!!"

It was the first night he slept peacefully, and when he woke up, the woman offered him a pretty scarf to cover his eyes. If he can't see the pain of others, then maybe he won't be feeling it? It was worth a try. She made it herself, after all. When her child was still alive, this used to be a piece of cake for her to do.

The boy, with the most beautiful smile in the world, tied the scarf over his eyes. "HAO!" he joyfully exclaimed. "Thanks, Chun-Yan! I'll take good care of it!" "Hao? I like that word too!" the woman grinned at him. He truly was adorable.

Since then, Y/N and Chun-Yan became the only persons Ying Zheng could be around and not feel any pain. Every day he spent with them, Ying Zheng was able to smile and have fun from the bottom of his heart. They would clean up the graffiti and even learn martial arts - Sometimes, they'd even prank the people who used to bully him; And his smile became more and more cheerful. Ying Zheng was truly happy.

However... King Zhaoxiang of Qin, and soon after, his son, King Xiaowen, passed away - And so, in 250 BC, the man who abandoned Ying Zheng, Zichu, ascended to the throne, and thus... Ying Zheng unexpectedly became the crown prince, the first in line to the throne, and was permitted to return to Qin.

"Ha! To think that some silly words I said would actually come true. I must be a Seer or something." Y/N grinned at the crying boy. "Crown Prince Ying Zheng. That sounds very good! Hao! I like that!" "Won't you come with me?! Please?! Please?! Don't leave me alone, I need you! We are friends, aren't we?!" the boy was sobbing, holding tightly onto the girl. "Forgive me, I cannot." she sighed, embracing him. "Not only am I a Zhao citizen, but... I am also a peasant. I would never be allowed anywhere near the Crown Prince." she kissed his cheek, patting his hair. "But when you get older and ascend to the throne - If you still remember me, and want to see me again, then you can always send for me. I will wait for you a thousand lifetimes, if needed. Just to see you again. The beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes."

Before he left, Y/N stole a quick peck on his lips, and waved him goodbye; Whilst Chun-Yan was laughing copiously, she had to drag the stunned boy away, his face burning fiercely from a blush. "I'll make you my Empress, Y/N! Wait for me! I'll keep my promise!" they truly were adorable, the woman thought, as the carriage left for Qin.

Thus, however, not only Y/N, but Ying Zheng would remain alone for so long, as Y/N had no one else in Zhao, and with the scorned people of Zhao no longer holding the prince as a hostage, they sent mercenaries to kill him. As a last motherly act of love, Chun-Yan used her martial arts to battle them all, though she would be fatally injured. "YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY KID!" she yelled, killing the last one.

As she lay dying in his arms, she told him the truth - That Y/N was right about her all along. She was a scorned, grieving parent, with her child, similar in age to the prince, having been buried alive. Her beloved Chun-Ou. She could do nothing to save him, for she dug in the dirt with her nails desperately, but couldn't even find him to give him a proper send-off. She wanted too see the prince, to scold him for being a useless, evil brat... She wanted to vent her anger and resentment... But she couldn't.

If a kid like Ying Zheng could become the King - Someone who could understand people's pain... Perhaps someone like him could change this fucked-up world a little, the very same way he changed her. "Become the greatest king of them all." it was the same promise that Y/N also bestowed upon him.

Before she died though, she didn't see Ying Zheng, but Chun-Ou. "I didn't know you were there, Chun-Ou. Let mama get a good look at your face." "Mama..." the prince held her dearly in his arms, placing her hand over his face, and he smiled at her, watching how vitality swiftly dissipated from her eyes. "Hao." she lay lifeless in his arms as he wept for her.

Afterward, Ying Zheng arrived safely at Xianyang, the capital of Qin, and on July 6th 247 BC, following the death of Zichu, Ying Zheng became the King of Qin, at the mere age of twelve.

"Let's walk my--..." Ying Zheng smiled, tying the scarf around his eyes. "No. Let's walk the Path of an Emperor. Together. Y/N. Chun-Yan." and true to his words, at 37 years of age, Ying Zheng became Qin Shi Huang, The First Emperor in History to unite all of China.

On the day Ying Zheng was crowned as the King of Qin, he also began being pestered by his advisors and elders to marry soon and produce an heir; After all, every King must have a Queen and concubines to perpetuate the royal lineage. Of course, the Prince didn't care for such things, nor did he want to think about anyone else that wasn't Y/N - But they were still so young! Life was fully ahead of them! On the other hand, it could be a great pretext to bring Y/N to the court and start lavishing her with all the luxuries that the palace has to offer.

Though the King of Qin had room for surprise, along with all the people at the royal meeting, as the large doors of the palace were pushed open, and a beautiful young lady resembling a flower fairy, dressed in rich silks, pink like the petals of a peony stepped on the golden rug that led towards the throne. She had a long spear in her grasp. As she started singing, the King ripped the scarf off his face, and those starred eyes gleamed with glee, his smile wide like never before. They truly must be soulmates, if Y/N could do exactly the same thing that he himself intended to do!

Two loving souls, so cruelly parted In madness and grief, a dark path started Calamity was drawn, rituals subverted But by her lovely dance, was sadness averted.

Ying Zheng didn't think it humanly possible, for a human to glide even more gracefully than he first saw her dancing, a few years prior.

The Phoenix returned to a home without luster; The cobwebs overgrown, the grave-shrouds a-fluster. But one bond upon her, This world could not muster.

"Thus does the tale of the Auspicious Phoenix end - Yet today, a new melody I have to append." the King was truly mesmerised by her lovely voice, and the way she lit the spear on fire and twirled it around so masterfully, kicking it and rotating with it, throwing it in the air, creating the image of a dancing Phoenix. "Hao! Sing me a happy story, Y/N!" he grinned, leaning forward in his throne.

From the world she seems apart But there is one who knows her heart With graceful swaying and a flaming spear To still the raging skies and the shattered hearts

Y/N's smile was so enchanting that it bewitched the King - Her dancing was as she hoped, a means to grow the seed of joy into people's hearts, replacing the darkening hatred.

The Phoenix once returned, And at once, she was spurned. She turned, and left alone...

Y/N, in a swift move, extinguished the flames from the spear, and stepped up the stairs leading to the throne. "Though now, she might be found to whom she is bound - Her love."

Ying Zheng's face was split by a wide, cheerful grin, and in an unexpected move, he threw his arms around the girl, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek. "Hao! My Phoenix returned home!" "Just in time to see her beloved dragon soaring the skies." she replied tenderly, only multiplying the excitement of his heart. "The only dance I love above all is that of the Phoenix and the Dragon amongst Heavens." he declared boldly. "Y-Your Majesty, who is this woman?! And how did she even manage to get inside the palace? With a weapon, no less!" having escaped the charm of the beautiful maiden, the elders started murmuring amongst each other. "She is the Empress, of course!" Ying Zheng laughed merrily, loving the unrest amongst his advisors, telling him he couldn't just marry anyone. "I am the King! I can do whatever I want!" and true to his words, Y/N had a most beautiful coronation ceremony, and her red and gold robes truly made her look like the Phoenix that she was.

Not only the Kingdom of Qin, but the whole Empire of China was going to prosper greatly under the rule of Emperor Qin Shi Huang and his Empress, Y/N. She was there to help him rule, with equal power as his own, and a fantastic wisdom and benevolence like no other. She was there to guide him as he walked the path of killing the demon Chi You. They lived a good life, along with all the people of China.

The two would love each other and live in perfect harmony until their eventual death due to mercury poisoning, at an age before even reaching half a century.

In the afterlife, just like in reality, Qin Shi Huang would have to fight to protect his people, as he was chosen as a human representative fighter in this mess the Gods created, Doomsday, the wish to eradicate mankind. He already killed a demon, and now, he was ready to kill a God.

He couldn't wait for too long in his own room, and with how directionally challenged he was, he walked through walls until he found the Gods' private balcony where Ares and Hermes were, and he flipped the God of War out of his seat, getting comfortable on the cushy seat, even causing the Messenger God to pour him honey mead.

"You know I can't walk fast in these clothes, you little menace." a feminine voice, very much amused, took the attention of the two Gods. "Oh, that's a lovely view of the arena!" the regal looking woman shamelessly sat on his lap, her arms around his neck as he offered her his drink. "This is really good! Can we get more?" bowing, the butler looking God poured some more.

The doors were slammed open again, and the little Valkyrie, Goll, yelled at them, followed by the elder one, Brunhilde. "Goodness! Even after I'd expressly told you NOT to leave your room - And what's more, you've left the corridors FULL of holes!" the elder one was more amused than scolding. "Mou mantai!" the two laughed, free of any care. "The road is where I lead!" he grinned, holding onto Y/N's waist, clingy like a child. "Come on, we have to go." Hilde spoke. "I refuse! We've taken a liking to this place! And besides, we definitely won't grow bored here." the man exclaimed. "In case you weren't aware - YOU will be fighting in round Seven." Hermes and Ares gasped in shock, as the Emperor, holding his love in his arms, jumped on the backseat of the couch.

"HAO!" he grinned confidently. "Finally! I'd grown tired of waiting!" "Now, let's head to the entrance gate, shall we?" Hilde sweatdropped at the unhinged behaviour of the bratty Emperor. "The dragon soars the path of the Emperor! The road is where Qin Shi Huang leads!" Y/N declared boldly, unfolding her fan dramatically.

From underneath the Gods balcony, all of China's Emperors after Qin Shi Huang unraveled a large red and gold rug, making way for the very first Emperor to lead the way to victory - Covering all the minor Gods from the stands. None mattered, except for Qin Shi Huang.

"Hao! That's how the Emperor has to be treated!" Y/N hopped from his arms, and off the balcony, waltzing ahead and leading the way forward - From her sleeves, butterflies would flutter, and where she waved her fan, red flower petals burning like cinders would breeze in a majestic dance, matching her own enchanting one.

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She sang the song that Ying Zheng loved the most, resembling the Goddess of the Luo River - The Beauty of China, Luo Shen. Though the Emperor hated that she ended up so heart broken over her husband's death, going so far as to drown herself in the river - He couldn't help but admire the pure love between her and her husband, mutually intertwined, just as he and Y/N were; Truly, all his life, he admired everything about her, and strived to become a man worthy of her lover. He wanted to be the man she could depend on, the man who could prove for her.

And thus, he became the Emperor.

As the song ended, Qin took out the bamboo flute and, stepping into the ring and playing the tune that harmonised perfectly with his Empress' graceful moves. Her dress, a deep shade of red like fire, flew around her like the Auspicious Phoenix that she was, and with her golden Dragon, they danced the Celestial melody of Heavens.

Heimdall, as well as all the rest watching, were mesmerised at the elegance displayed in their bonding, true love like no other radiating strongly from their smiles; He couldn't even begin the introductions as he watched the Emperor pick his lady in his arms, two fates intertwined, dancing coiled around each other eternally - And ending with a kiss. Their fairy-tale like love made all those watching deeply envious.

As the two lovers kept gazing into each other's eyes, the God announced the Emperor's great deeds, before calling out his title as the humans all chanted his name; the Gods boo'ed, angry that he was so arrogant, even going as far as too show off his love-life like that. As Y/N kissed him shamelessly, in front of the whole Valhalla, a young lady, Alvitr, had rageful tears in her eyes for being left forgotten at the Mankind gate.

"Mou mantai! I'm an Emperor, after all." he waved dismissively, before picking her up carefully in his arms. "Come a little closer." she was blushing so bad. "No need to be so rough, my boyish young lady." he chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, little lady. Zheng is going to take good care of you." Y/N patted her hair, watching her completely fall in love with the handsome man, and in one burst of lightning, the Volundr was formed. "Hao! This fits me nicely!" he grinned, showing off his Almighty Spaulders. "As handsome as always, my darling." she kissed his cheek again, though she felt a chill shiver down her spine as the God of the Underworld, Hades, walked forward.

Not only was he ready to avenge his brother, but he was also feeling envious at the way Y/N so openly loved and pampered her husband, the same way he wished his beloved Persephone would.

Before this battle of King vs Emperor could begin, Y/N gladed towards the stands where the Emperors were standing - Right where Chun-Yan and Chun-Ou were, and she got helped up in the stands. An Empress shouldn't have to find her way around the maze-like corridors - The First Empress of China had every right to walk the shortest and easiest road to where she wished to.

As the fight began, Hades thrust forward a single strike, loaded with tremendous power - A single thrust meant to kill. He continues to attack with one heavy-class jab after another, but the Emperor never once got hit; And even when he used one of his strongest attacks, named after his wife, Qin Shi Huang only had his body nicked.

The next straight thrust, the Emperor deflected, easily catching the handle of the bident before throwing back the attack - His own power added to that of Hades, sending him sailing backwards painfully hard - It was Qin Shi Huang's Chi You - Armor form: Sword, Armor, Spear, Crossbow, Halbert - Heavenly Hand of Defense.

As they say, the best offense is a good defense. The reverse is also valid. "Hades, King of the Netherworld... Was it? Let me tell you a thing." as the dust evaporated, the God's form was slumped to the ground, a large crater in the wall where he hit it. "There can only be one Emperor in the world, and that man is I!" he confidently declared.

He didn't fight for six whole days against the Demon God Chi You for nothing. He didn't raise above all the other so-called King for nothing. He didn't become the first unifier of China, the first Emperor, the King where it all began - For nothing!

Ying Zheng - Qin Shi Huang - Was the only man worthy of being called The Emperor!

Hades managed to stand up. He was bleeding from his head and his torso was injured. "Qin Shi Huang, was it? Tell me one thing - What in your eyes makes a King?" "A king?" he grinned. "One who never doubts! Never yields! Never relies! And always stands as the leader of his people! That is what makes a King!" Hades was awestruck by the answer, and even started laughing merrily. Nobody alive ever heard the Lord of the Underworld laugh so boomingly. Ying Zheng joined in the laughing. "You remind me of someone I know... All too well. He was more noble than any other God, more steadfast than any other - And the God most worthy of the title of King. My younger brother, Poseidon, King of the Seas." he extended his arm forward, showing off the weapon. "And I swear by his name, as his elder brother, I shan't give in to a mere King of Men!"

Thus, with a weird stance, Hades unleashed an attack, the proper way of fighting with a spear; With all his might, he delivered a crushing downward swing. The Emperor shielded himself with his arms. "I AM THE KING OF THE UNDERWORLD - HADES! FALL AND BE CRUSHED!"

The King of Men was slammed face-down, flat onto the ground. "ZHENG!" Y/N yelled his name, watching his spit a bunch of blood, struggling to stand up. "Ahh, it's sticky, all soaked with blood. Buhao." he groaned, hanging his head. "Mou mantai..." he sighed, a little disappointed as he took off his cherished scarf. All Emperors bowed down in his honour, gazing his handsome face for the first time. "Now then - Shall we continue, King of the Netherworld?" he grinned confidently. despite the blood painting his face. "So you can take one of my attacks and still smile. I would expect nothing less from a King!" Hades grinned, launching into a ferocious flurry with his rigid spear.

Qin Shi Huang has no choice but to roll with the thrusts; He was waiting for an opportunity to use his special technique. As Hades used the Smasher of Earth down on his head, the Emperor had to shield himself again; But this time, he didn't fall - Using his breath to weaken the attack, he grabbed onto the blade of the bident, and slammed the wielder into the ground, breaking it.

But just as before, any wound that Ying Zheng sees, he receives also - And though he managed to injured Hades, he also felt intense pain. Even in a direct combat, Qin used his breath onto Hades' chest, and with his claw-like fingers, he used the Mount Tai, Dragon Claw technique, delivering an intense strike, leaving an awful mark onto his abdomen.

Ying Zheng's starry eyes weren't just beautiful - They could actually see the stars of living beings. The flow of Qi. Qin could see the cruxes as stars. The double edged gift that served him as both a blessing and a curse. "Ahh, this is why I hate fighting with my eyes." Qin grinned, baring through the blazing pain in his abdomen. "Aw man, that really hurts."

"Don't make fun of me... Do you call yourself the Greatest King?" Hades chuckled light-heartedly. "King of the Underworld, you are strong - But I promised two special people that I would become the Greatest King - So I can't lose to anyone!" to get the most out of his fantastic martial arts, Qin Shi Huang was given a Divine Weapon specialising in defence - Alvitr; The secret ability behind her name is - Army Guardian! "You are strong, King of Humans. A promise of never losing, right?" Hades clenched his fist around his own blood. "I also have something I want to protect. My oath."

Thus, Hades advanced again, spinning his bident like a windmill, destroying the air bullets coming his way - Qin could barely defend himself against the attacks coming his way, though even when he struck, the two were equal in power, and Hades' forearm was mauled. "Even though you're human, you made it this far, huh? I'm going to kill you... But first, I wanted to say that you were magnificent." Hades declared boldly. "Hao!" Zheng grinned at his opponent.

From the stands, every human was cheering for the Emperor. Y/N especially was the loudest, along with Chun-Yan and her little boy, Chun-Ou.

Once again, Hades did something remarkably unusual - Not only did he begin to whistle the tune of his dear younger brother, Poseidon, before self-inflicting a large gash on his chest and splattering not only himself, but his weapon in a shower of crimson life essence. Drenched in blood, Hades rushes Qin, changing mid hit his thrust into a downward swing - He managed to find a way to counter his disruption of Qi. "You pose no threat to me."

Hades' blood wasn't SIMPLY blood. "Assemble!" the King of the Underworld ordered his weapon to transform into a mighty strength to be reckoned with; Any Divine Weapon that his blood, the Pluto Ichor, spills upon harbors the God's life force and becomes even more powerful... But the longer he keeps it up, the higher the risk of death. "King of Men, this is my trump card." he got in a battle stance with his new weapon, the Four-Blooded Spear of Destiny - Ichor: Desmos. "Tear at his flesh - Desmos!" this almighty thrust managed to break through the powerful armor of the Emperor. "I cannot lose. As their elder brother, I shan't be defeated!"

The Valkyrie Alvitr made herself seen to her human, worrying over him - Not only half of his hand, but his shoulder also were heavily destroyed. "Mou mantai. Compared to the pain of others, my own pain is scarcely anything to bear." he declared selflessly, like the fantastic leader that he is. "Alvitr... If we don't do something, we stand no chance at winning. I think we should bet everything on this next strike." he spoke, more seriously, only to annoying the young Valkyrie. "THAT WAS PATHETIC!" she yelled at him, as a scold. "SAY WHAT YOU WANT LOUD AND CLEAR, LIKE AN EMPEROR! YOU SHOWED OFF WITH YOUR EMPRESS LIKE THAT - AND NOW YOU WANT TO LOOK UNCOOL AND DIE IN FRONT OF HER?! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE BELIEVING IN YOU?!" she huffed like a brat. "How haughty of you, my boyish young lady." he smiled, looking up at the stands where his most cherished people were cheering on him. "I WANT TO WIN NO MATTER WHAT!" he yelled, loud and clear, as he should have. "Haha, I know! Really... You Kings are so stubborn!" she giggled, reinforcing their bond even further. "Let me give you all the power I've got!" thus, the Almighty Spaulders were recast into the Shi Huang Goujian Sword. The best defense truly is a remarkable offense.

"I am EMPEROR! King among Kings! And a King only takes pride in protecting his people!" Ying Zheng's starry eyes shone brightly with hope and power, whilst his dazzling smile remained as confident as ever before. "Excellent, O, lofty King - Now let us tear at his very heart, Desmos!" he, who bore the pride of the Gods and laid down his own life; The King of the Netherworld -- And he, who knew the pain of others, and fought for the sake of his people, the King Where It All Began.

Only a King can understand the mind of a King. And these two Kings could both tell that the end of the match was nigh.

Hades went forward, using Desmos: Eos once again, and Ying Zheng retaliated with Chi You: Sword Form; Shi Huang Yan cut. He was driven back, his already damaged left arm ripping clean off from the shoulder and flying across the arena. "ZHENG!" though the Emperor could hear his wife's desperate voice, calling out to him - He simply laughed merrily, seeing Alvitr's worried expression, looking down at him.

"It's beautiful...! What a beautiful star I see!" surprising everyone, the Emperor managed to use his sword to stand up once again. "A king never doubts. A King never yields. A King never relies." even with his arms ripped off like that, and the awful injuries sustained, Ying Zheng kept standing tall and ready to fight. "And a King never surrenders!" he was standing up through sheer willpower. "I can't let my wife see her husband dying, you know? I promised to only ever make her happy - So I can't cause her tears of distress now!"

He could hear them - The voices of the people. He's been fighting all this time to keep his promise to Y/N and Chun-Yan; To bring the people not hatred, but happiness. Everyone was cheering for him. The Greatest King of All Kings - Qin Shi Huang.

"Look, I know you don't wanna give up, but what are you gonna do exactly?" Alvitr asked, a little confused but ready to fight to the bitter end by the side of this worthy man. "I'm going to use Heavenly Hand of Defense once more." he spoke weakly, watching her distress and worry. "Trust me - I am THE Emperor!" Alvitr smiled, filled with hope and confidence thanks to this man. "You're just... Haha! No need to ask!" she, too, got in a fighting stance next to him, supporting him from within his soul. "HAO!" the Emperor exclaimed, thrusting the tip of his sword forward, to mit that of Hades' spear. "I consider myself proud to have been able to fight you." both the Gods and Mankind, and every eye upon the arena could sense that this very next clash would be the final one of Round Seven.

And the first to make a move was the King of the Netherworld, with a fearsome thrust from Desmos, loaded with all the Ichor that Hades could give; Against this gully-powered attack from the King of the Netherworld which seemed as though it could kill with a simple graze, the King of Men, without hesitation, caught it. Chi You Armor Form: Heavenly Hand of Defense.

Everyone had braced themselves for the end, save for the King Where It All Began... Who managed to use Tortoise Ripple to hit Desmos' Qi Star. It got weaker. Desmos was alive, not a lifeless weapon, and Hades hadn't taken that into consideration - He brought his spear to life, his most powerful advantage, but also, his most fatal disadvantage.

Ying Zheng had never forgotten, not even for an instant, that his own life began from the end - When the woman he loved most, his wife, along with his cherished mother-figure, Chun-Yan, showed him... That a King is one who arises from the end, and brings about the Beginning.

Desmos was shattering in his fighter's grasp, and the Human representative managed to impale his sword through the God's torso. "Magnificent!" Hades praised. "Nothing less...!" though he tried to use the broken handle of his weapon to kill Qin Shi Huang, he failed, for the Emperor sliced him open. "... from a King." Hades was unable to make good on his vow. He failed as an elder brother, but the Emperor managed to keep his oath to all the people that relied on him. "Forgive me."

As Hades lay dead on the ground, Heimdall announced Emperor Qin Shi Huang as the winner of the Seventh Round of Ragnarok, and with it, Mankind was in the lead, 4 to 3. "I am grateful that I could speak with you, King of the Netherworld." the Emperor clenched his fist to his chest, in honour of the admirable and honorable fight between two Kings. "Pengyou." through this battle to the death, the two Kings became friends.

Gods and Humans alike were showing their respects to the King of the Netherworld as he was shattering into glowing shard of green soul and ascending into the skies. In under 13 minutes, the King of all Kings defeated a God.

Just as before, the Emperors watching the match helped the Phoenix Empress descend into the ring so she could run to her husband, supporting him and the little Valkyrie lady up. "You were fantastic, you two. Now you may rest. I will take you to the infirmary at once." both of them, like a happy family, smiled at each other. "Don't push yourself too hard. You look even more banged up than me." Alvitr joked. "Mou mantai!" he chuckled at her reassuringly. "Mou mantai? You sure don't look it, silly man. Let me support you two." Y/N giggled, getting in between them two and holding onto them with all her force. "Honestly, it's a miracle you're even alive right now." Alvitr scolded him lightly. "That isn't true, Alvitr. Did I not say it before? Trust me!" his reassuring grin made the girl emotional. "You really are stupid." the Valkyrie's smile trembled. "H-Hey, can't you keep standing up?" Y/N released Alvitr from her grasp, supporting the Emperor as he lost consciousness. "Alvitr, if you have any strength in you, please help me hold him!"

The Valkyrie yelled for the paramedics to rush already - He needed urgent, intensive care. The nurses quickly brought the table and put the Emperor, rolling him quickly towards the Intensive Care unit where he will be taken until his condition is stabilised.

Ying Zheng and Alvitr also were kept in capsules to better their vital functions, and in between them, sat Y/N, smiling softly at the two. The Valkyrie was already a divine being, she was going to be alright... But Ying Zheng is still a human and was in a particularly critical condition - Whether he survives this or not, depends on his own strength to live.

"Ying Zheng and Alvitr. The Emperor of Heavens and his protector White Tiger." the Empress spoke gently, each hand laying on one of the glass capsules. "Alvitr, thank you for protecting my beloved Zheng. I will forever be indebted to you. My sweet child. Alvitr." Beautiful and divine, strong and courageous." her voice trembled softly. "My boyish young lady." her gaze turned to her Emperor. "Qin Shi Huang. The Emperor of China. The King Where It All Began. The First Unifier of China. The Golden Dragon of China. The Eye of Heaven." a few tears escaped softly down her cheeks. "Ying Zheng, my beloved husband, the beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes. The love of my life." her tender tears turned into heartbroken sobs. "I am so proud of you. So, so proud. You have always been a true leader for our people, and you were always such a wonderful husband, a partner, a friend. My confidant. My heart. My soul. My everything." though Goll and Brunhilde left, the Emperors whose paths were pathed by Qin Shi Huang were all standing outside the room, watching with heavy hearts, the shattered cry of the Vermillion Bird. "If the tears of the Phoenix could truly heal any wound, I would drown you in my cries and save you. If I could give my life to save you, I would transfer all of your wounds to mine own shell of a body, rip my flesh apart with mine own teeth and claws, and give you all of my blood, just to see you alive once more. My most precious sweetheart." the people watching all began to shed tears. "Just like the Goddess Luo who drowned herself in the river, so will I, out of grief, should you depart from this world before me." for one last time until her beloved would flutter his sparkling eyes open again, Y/N dried her tears and smiled brightly at Ying Zheng and Alvitr. "Hao! Mou mantai! Listen to my voice as I sing for you a beautiful melody. May you have sweet dreams and rest peacefully - And when your strength returns, please, return to me. And if not... The Vermillion Bird will burn to ashes, for the last time."

I want to be your love for ever and ever, Without break or decay. When the hills are all flat, The rivers are all dry. When it thunders in winter, When it snows in summer When heaven and earth mingle, Not till then will I part from you.

Thus, a melody was sung, through the cries of the weeping Vermillion bird, burning bright as the Sun, for her celestial Golden Dragon of Heavens, and the almighty White Tiger, shining silver like the moon.

#record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #qin shi huang #qin shi huang x reader #qin shi huang imagine #ying zheng #ying zheng x reader #ying zheng imagine #ror #ror x reader #ror imagine #qin shi huang ror

620 notes · View notes