#a man who speaks to my heart (i would also risk it all for silver)

[purrvaire]

black sails + shitpost I have on my phone (pt. 4/?)

3

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Heya! Hope you're drinking plenty of water and getting enough sleep :3

I was wondering if you could do romantic headcannons for Geo as a Yandere? If not, then that's alright! Feel free to ignore this ask if you don't feel comfy writing it dw :D

Geo my love *smooches his cheek lovingly*

Besotted (Yandere! Geo x MC/Reader)

Guess who respawned after a month or so, anyway my hyperfixation ended and I'm trying to cook again

CAN I GET ENCOURAGEMENT TO CONTINUE PUHLEASE I'M A SKRUNKLED BOOGER HERE RAARARARARARRA

Also. Darling Anon. Geo is mine. I am prepared to fight.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Besotted: strongly infatuated.

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

Geo knew all too well how illegal this was.

Not that he cared, you were significantly more invaluable, indelible, incredible. You were an idealists’ biggest dream, an optimists’ highest regard, an opportunists’ greatest catch.

Geo knew better than to relent his firm grip on you, he’d do anything if it meant he could have you to himself, all to himself. A love so fiery it razed the chill of his masks, his endless facades and cold numbing scars. You torched away the husk that rendered him empty and bitter, ravaging his fortress walls and citadel gates, barging through his offences and placing your flag upon his heart.

You were a saint to him. The most ethereal of them all, the purest, kindest, greatest.

You could ask him to call you God and he’d build you a thousand gilded shrines.

He silently lurked in the depths of the lightless corridor, the one that held the entrance to your home, your soon-to-be-former home, for he’d have you with him soon.

Geo felt a smile, a genuine one, crossed his rigid, diamond features, dimples rounding his sanguine lips as his pallid hands softly caressed the orchid — indigo and navy as his hair, you’d said how it reminded you of him — and sighed.

He’d not been the type to feel much, or allow himself to. Such things were a distraction, he’d assumed. For the most part he’d been correct, but all rules held exceptions.

But you lit a flame in him, one he didn’t realise he possessed. You’d nurtured something soft, cultivated something vulnerable within him. He’d resented you for it originally. 

However, for some quaint reason, you persisted, tossed more flames into the fray — risking your own feelings and heart — to try and be with him. 

It was your fault he’d become so forlornly infatuated with you, but he wasn’t about to let you slip from him, now was he?

His whole life had been in the shadows of his brother — his darling, golden brother — and he wasn’t about to let himself be ostracised, especially in terms of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geo in general is a “quiet” yandere, in short – he’s really good at hiding it, shielding his true feelings under an aloofness that was chilling, even for his standards. He wouldn’t avoid you, but he’d appear significantly more detached than standard_geo.exe. 

However, under the feigned nonchalance and ignorance, Geo is an observer. Eavesdropping, brief staring, sometimes asking queries…he’s a smart man. He knows how to make himself appear as a quiet, uncaring person – one with no regard for others.

He’d rather die than write anything down about you, a subtle paranoia in his mind someone’d know and speak of it. He couldn’t afford to have any opportunities be sabotaged and razed before he’d even utilised them.

Geo’s main dilemma — apart from his abundances in emotional dysfunction and discombobulation — would be his “fans”. People who’d crowd his locker, toss him roses stained with their false promises and half-arsed affirmations. He wasn’t one for praise, at least….he thought so. Praise from you felt nice, he’d noticed.

He’s very used to being wanted, lusted over, clung and clawed by a hundred perverted hands, that such genuity — such honesty — the likes that came from your silver-coated tongue felt alien.

Alien in the sense his heart was thrown unto a treadmill each time you spoke highly of him, and meant it.

He’s definitely the type to try and get your attention on him, his envy of your friends — hell, even your mutuals — was growing more by the day. It wasn’t fair to him how easily the others could just be. They had much more freedom than he ever did, except for mayhaps Jess. He knew Crowe’d severed ties with his mother. How lucky he was.

Geo’d only start to panic when he recognises how his feelings grow stronger, both in vigour and potency. It’s as if a separate entity, one built of insecurities and obsession, had started eating away at all the walls he’d built up over the years of his life, replacing his cognition with sudden onslaughts of devotion.

He’d be very reliant on you making the moves, however. He wants to maintain some dignity.

If you don’t pick up on his extremely confusing and erratic hints, he’ll resort to the ultimate level of weakness: gifts.

Will have to spawn behind you when nobody is watching and give you either something you’ve wanted for ages, or just heard about a thing you like. You’re a bit confused, to say the least. He does not care.

His aim becomes to get you to obsess over why he did that, and so, eventually, you talk to him again. He knows it's a cruel thing to do, but it's the means to an end. A good end.

Would stalk- gather information on you after he learns your residence location, will meticulously plan out everything you do. He doesn’t do anything with this knowledge, he simply likes observing you.

Becomes somewhat murderous when he notices someone keeps entering your home at night. He’d assumed it was a significant other at first, one he’d inevitably get rid of…but you’d mentioned several times you were single. Then he had a miraculous idea.

Within the next few days Solivan Brugmansia — his charming brothers’ best friend — had been blackmailed and blacklisted, leaving Hyugo astounded.

He knew his brother’d lash out somehow, not that he cared. He’d convinced himself he’d lost all love for him…he hoped he did, he didn’t want to worry about Sugimoto. 

Again, his love intensified when you gifted him an orchid, purple and blue, and him feeling a passionate softness blooming in response. Starts to warm up to you more afterwards.

Geo personally was very much entranced by you now, and doesn’t step out of line too much for a long time, until you — in his eyes — hint you like him. He remains calm – barely – but when the time comes that feelings are shared (and reciprocated), he becomes significantly more watchful over you. He’d want you to wear things he gives you, whether it be jewellery or clothes. Something he — and only he — would know meant you were his, like he was yours.

He won’t get openly jealous if someone harasses or catcalls you, but he’ll definitely do something about said people. He knows everything about this city, and even more so about you.

It better remain that way, he’s not above whisking you away to a lavishly decorated basement far beyond the horizon. He wants you to have freedom,  but he’d be much more content if he had eyes on you every. Single. Second.

For now, while you’re both in school, in this fucked-up city, he’s going to have to stick to ensuring you’re in his sight, for even the richest and strongest aren’t immune to a stray shot in the dead of night…

[nekonyaniii]

Some thoughts about yexuan with his return to godheim i need to get out this from my head + this is my take and dont come at me also cmiiw!! 😭... spoiler, do not look(read by your own risk also it's so long goodbye)

i was rereading return to godheim yexuan like 88671992974 times ady and I just can't help myself to cry about it everytime I read it.. I really should .. stop .. but I can't LMAO I need to seek theraphy(asmr bday save me pls I just wanna think about 1:30mins make out)

Oh god .., Silver Knight, what have they done to you that make your fate is so harsh in Godheim/Yesai Timeline? Everytime I think about how miserable his fate in there I just can't help myself but get hurted

His explaination is firm but his voice naturally softened when he spoke about her, even Hammel is suprised hearing soft voice. And the more I think, his soft voice is because how he actually care so much about her, likes her from long ago, since his youngself when they meet as a teenagers, he just doesn't realize and can't remember anything(due empire erase his memory) so the only thing in his mind about lilpainter is his senior's daughter but deep down he knows her more than this

After repeating so many cycle of her deaths, he become anxious and hesitates because whenever she is passing away, she affecting his emotions. Hammel noticed and speaks up how this girl hold special place in his heart, he sighs and admit it that he is worried about her!!😭 This cycle is really cruel for him, he see her passing away many TIMES in his own hands how can it not make you anxious? How can he calm after repeating so many little painter's death before his eyes ?

Then he did manage to get out without any scratches left in her body, but soon the poison affect her body and the way he realize it make me so broke. Like .., He finally did it! Without a scracth??! Rescuing her from there! Can you imagine how glad he is when he thought he is finally rescuing her without her dying in his own hand. But as soon as he realize she got poisoned that delay her death, he cannot express how he's feeling, he thought he did it, he thought now can feel in ease after see her stay alive getting out from there.. he burried his face on her knees regretting his mistakes and hiding his emotions knowing that she soon will die again before his eyes, in his arms again, he must prepare for it..

This cycle is one of the hell for him, she confessed to him that lilpainter like him but he cannot return his feelings due it's heavy for him, he cannot spoke it so easily nor because she almost near her death, but because he is gonna be the one who only carries the memories and feelings alone knowing little painter will soon forget it after the new cycle start. His feeling is mixed, he doesn't look forward to see tomorrow knowing she would leave and the cyle will restart.

Now this, make me more depressed about this man. The only person he cherised is little painter and the only person he cares is her. And what if she didn't choose him after that cycle and timeloop. He will the one who bear all those bitter memories alone remembering how she said she likes him while she doesn't remember anything what she said before. Yexuan cannot avoid it, he have to witness everything about her in Yesai timeline(this is so cruel how they write 'destined' which he cannot escape from it ..), he can only watch from afar and guide her also protect her. He always have a soft spot for her but he always push it away that thoughts because he told to himself it's just a unecessary feelings that will hinder him.. There's so many things I want to explain more.. but Silver Knight fate, is really one of a cheff kiss piece. The good thing in this card is because how the ending they ended up together!! Im so happy for them! They also blessed by the goddess! After so many cycle, after so many timeloop and possibilities.. He happy together..🥹 Definetely why this is now my favorite card 😭 I NEED THIS STORIES RELEASED IN GLOBAL ASAP!!

Also i still love how he said this with a smile on his face, he is so hurted but he have to face it eventually.. Damn it yexuan, thank you for making me mentally ill(i got the ss from bilibili o<-<) hahaha

[trixiwritesfanfic]

as ever, you can also read this work over on Ao3 if you prefer!

Definitely Over Him

‘How’ve you been, Melia?’ Dunban sat opposite the High Entia Empress, his good hand cradling a mug of softly steaming liquid. The other sat listlessly atop the table. Melia had come to learn that this gesture was one of great trust, for Dunban’s injury often made him feel self-conscious and weak.

‘Busy, as usual. Attempts to rebuild have hit so many more hurdles than I had ever expected. Supplies are scarcer than I would like, and a few of our deliveries from the colonies were intercepted before they arrived. It’s been…’ She trailed off, wrapping one of her delicate silver curls around an index finger. Her friend had expressed several times that he felt useless and lonely since his sister had taken off with Shulk, and she was never truly sure how to navigate conversations like this as a result. ‘Challenging, I suppose. I miss being part of a team of equals, rather than a sole figurehead. The weight of responsibility is unbearable sometimes.’

A twinge of discontent twisted at Dunban’s stomach, though he stifled it down, refusing to let the emotion pollute his expression. He had asked, after all.

‘You ought to find someone to share the burden, you know. I know you had hoped that Shulk might—’ He cut himself off as Melia’s delicate fingers rose in silent protest, inviting her to speak with a quizzical arch of an eyebrow.

‘It was a childlike infatuation, nothing more. I no longer feel those things for Shulk… and I ought not to take on a partner simply for the sake of sharing the stresses of duty.’

‘No new Homs or High Entia catch your eye yet?’ He leaned in and asked the question in a conspiratorial, staged whisper, then stared as the Empress’s delicate features flushed. ‘Oh, so there is someone, then? Tell me about him.’

‘Well… He’s one of the strongest men I know, willing to do anything to protect those he loves. He’s unshakably determined and has the heart of a true hero.’ The wings atop her head had begun to flutter the way they often did when she spoke passionately. The Homs hero smiled gently at the display.

‘You really do think the world of him, don’t you? He’s a lucky man, your majesty.’

‘Oh, Dunban! You mustn’t call me that, please! We’re friends, are we not?’ Melia resisted the desire to touch him, for his left hand was in the process of lowering his mug, while the right still sat, still and loveless, upon the crystalline tabletop.

‘I apologise, Melia. Of course we’re friends. I stand by my assessment, however – it’s a very lucky man who is worthy of your affections. You deserve it, truly. You should tell him.’ He placed his mug down and gingerly stretched out his good hand, closing the distance between them. His fingers barely brushed against Melia’s, the gesture meant more as an encouragement than anything, and then they were being clasped within her small, slender hands.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Of course. You’re one of the kindest and most dutiful people I know. It would be a dream for most men to have a wife like you.’

Slowly but surely, the fingers that had entrapped his released him, and instead began the process of slowly interlacing with his. Dunban glanced down at the innocent union of flesh, and then back up at Melia.

‘Would it be a dream for you to have a wife like me, Dunban?’ Her voice was honeysuckle at that moment, delicate yet heady. Her vulnerability drew him in, and her fingers ensnared him, gently holding him to her. The hero of Homs swallowed, remembering the Melia whose crush went unspoken and unaddressed, whose feelings for another had never been known, let alone reciprocated. It was a very different Melia who sat before him now, somewhat more mature and risking hurt for greater reward.

‘Well, I’ve never really given much thought to…’ As he spoke, he could see the light in her eyes beginning to dim. Dunban may be many things, but he was not stupid; he paused and gazed at her searchingly. Something glistened deep in those lovely teal eyes, imploring him to understand. His breath felt as though it had caught in his chest as he reached out to her with his injured hand. ‘Am I right in thinking that I am one of the strongest men you know, Melia?’

She nodded, her gaze slipping downwards, following his clothing down to the roughened, scarred back of his hand. One of her own met it, caressing with a remarkable tenderness across the twisted flesh. It was the first time anyone other than his sister had touched him there without him flinching.

���You flatter me in your assessment,’ he told her, his expression gravely serious. He hadn’t fielded a confession like this for some time – since before the war.

‘Every word is true, Dunban. I was blinded when we met, but I have learned to see. I see a man who cares, who protects, and who loves passionately beneath the tough exterior.’ She felt as though her whole body was about to melt as she praised him. ‘I see… the man I’ve been falling for, for far longer than I knew.’

Silence settled between them, their fingers still intertwined, Dunban’s good hand large and powerful and hesitantly affectionate, the thumb tracing at the back of Melia’s. At his right, she was the stronger, stabilising his trembling fingers. That small intimacy between the pair spoke louder, even, than her impassioned words, support flowing both ways.

Still, the question did need to be addressed eventually, and Dunban was the one who broke the silence at length.

‘You know I am a short-lived species, Melia? If I am lucky, I will live for another fifty years, perhaps a little longer – but you are likely to live for at least two more centuries.’

‘I know. The High Entia lifespan has proved itself more a curse than a blessing for many of my kin, including my dear departed father. Yet, if you would take me, I would endure such trials.’

‘Take you, huh?’ The solemn, mature man Melia was so used to seemed to melt away at that moment, his lips quirking mischievously. Confidence danced in his roguish grey eyes as he stood abruptly and tugged her towards him across the little table. A momentary shock widened her eyes as he pulled her into his lips and kissed her rather hard, and then she had turned to putty, lashes fluttering closed. The pressure of the edge of the table between them grew rapidly more and more frustrating, and before long the Empress broke the extended kiss.

‘We should move elsewhere,’ she murmured breathlessly, vacating her own seat now and moving to take Dunban by the hand. The scars were tough beneath her fingers, but she still smoothed affection across them.

It turned out that “elsewhere” had necessarily meant leaving Alcamoth entirely, for Melia’s advisors continually returned, rapping on the doors with paperwork to sign, various questions and proposals to deliver, and once or twice to remind her of upcoming meetings. Dunban had worn that same mischievous smirk as he pulled her into one of the undamaged Havres and set a course for the picturesque backdrop of Satorl Marsh, and Melia had simply let him.

Now, however, her back was pushed up against one of the silver-barked trees, the bodice of her little white dress torn open to bare her shapely breasts, and her legs wrapped eagerly around Dunban’s waist. The brunet’s face was buried against her neck, a hot mess of lips, tongue, and teeth leaving their marks. Several possessive pink blotches marred her pale skin, forming the beginnings of a collar of bruises. Dunban’s left hand supported her weight, while the right, still trembling and gentle as a whisper, explored the scant space between the two.

‘You’re shaking,’ he noted, finally drawing back to gaze upon her. Stormy eyes flitted up and down her features, taking in the flush, the little crinkle of pleasure at her brow, and the puffy, tender lips he’d kissed almost raw. ‘Do you need me to stop?’

‘N-no, I want… I want to keep going, I just…’

She might be older than him chronologically, Dunban realised, but her mind was still that of a young adult, an inexperienced one at that. He smiled reassuringly at her and pressed her more firmly back into the tree, initiating another kiss. Softer. Sensual rather than demanding. His tongue traced the outline of her lower lip, gently coaxing for access, and when it was granted, his scarred hand slid into her silvery hair. He trailed his tongue about hers, teaching it to dance in kind, and massaged his fingers soothingly along her scalp.

For several minutes, there was comparative silence as the pair simply drank in the taste of one another; at some point, Melia’s arms twined about his shoulders, drawing him closer, and the pressure of Dunban’s body against hers intensified. Warmth pooled between them, comfortable at first, and then slowly less so.

‘Dunban,’ she whispered in the briefest pause of their lips. ‘I feel…’

‘Empty?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Because you are soaking, Melia.’ He loosened his right hand from her hair and slid it between them, his fingers sliding slickly across the fabric of her underwear. An airy gasp trailed into the air between them, laced with the same soft glow as the air around them.

‘I didn’t know that the High Entia could breathe ether,’ he teased her gently, hitching her higher once more. The bark scraped at the back of her dress and tugged dully at her back, a little pinch of pain in her pleasure, and Melia whimpered needily. ‘Oh?’ He repeated the motion, feeling her weight, the blistering heat that radiated from her sex, and sure enough, the gentle rasp of bark against her back tugged out another frazzled whine. ‘All right, hold on, my pretty little nebula, we’ll get you nice and full…’

It was rather a fumble with his bad hand, loosening his trousers, but with a few moments of patience and several more kisses, he freed himself. Relief, although only momentary, as his arousal hit the air, and then he had ripped a hole in Melia’s underclothes to align their bodies.

Her fingers grasped more tensely at his shoulders, nails digging into flesh, as she felt something rather wide and rounded press at her entrance.

‘Melia?’

‘Please,’ she gasped, her breath still forming those sparkling, ethereal mists with every frantic exhalation.

Dunban groaned against her ear as he pushed into the velvety heat of her sex, forcing himself to ease in gently despite the desperate desire to hilt himself immediately within that addictive embrace. Her body felt endlessly tight, his cock stretching her virgin walls until she felt as though she might split.

‘Fuck… Melia, are you—’

‘Nhh- keep going, Dunban, I want…’ He pulled back, feeling the soft ridges of her insides smothering along the throbbing vein in his length, scarcely able to breathe for the overwhelming sensation, and then slowly but surely pushed his way back in. There was something intrinsically satisfying about the moment their hips touched and his entire length was buried within her; he could feel the glans of his cock pressing gently against her deepest boundaries and feel her every squirm as she tried to egg him on.

‘More? Faster?’

‘Please!’

‘As you wish!’ His hips withdrew far more quickly this time, then pistoned forwards once more; the swift impact was punctuated by the slap of skin against skin, and the arching sounds of their mingled ecstasy. In the absence of pain, and the presence of pleasure, Dunban repeated those actions, the throbbing pillar of flesh disappearing and reappearing rhythmically between Melia’s thighs. He groaned as he watched the motion once more, withdrawing to see the sheen of her lust on his cock, and pushing back inside to the sound of a lewd, wet squish.

‘Oh- oh gods, Dunban…!’

‘That-that’s right, Melia, let it go…’

His right hand pressed between her thighs, smothering her clit as best he could with the calloused pads of his fingers. He could feel her wrapping ever tighter around him as he pushed her up to the edge, and he wanted nothing more than for her to topple right off it. He lurched forwards once more, wrapping his lips about an earlobe, and frantically nibbled and suckled there, battering his hips against hers.

Melia’s voice pitched upwards, and her eyes rolled back in her head as the pleasure finally peaked, sending her muscles into endless erratic contractions and her mind floating into oblivion. There was nothing coherent in that cry; it would have been profoundly satisfying if Dunban hadn’t been viciously chasing his own climax, repeated, animalistic grunts accompanying the sudden amp in pace.

He felt the pressure building, throbbing intensely between his thighs, and then, with no warning, it erupted outwards. Generous ropes of his seed plastered his lover’s walls, and she could feel him twitching and pulsing as he filled her. The warmth of it, the feeling of fullness, and the very real danger that accompanied both were almost enough to set Melia right back off again.

‘Dunban,’ she gasped at last, tracing the fingers of one hand through his dark brown hair. Sweat slicked his brow and clung to his body, and his eyes were insensible with after-sex haze. He slowly slid to the ground, still holding her tightly to him, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

‘Give me a few minutes, and I’ll lick you clean, my little nebula. Stop any awkward questions when you get home.’

‘You want to… lick me?’

‘I want to do quite a bit more than that, but it’ll do for a start.’

‘You Homs are so strange,’ Melia giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw even as he wrapped his arms around her, trapping her atop him so he could gaze up into her eyes, the same gorgeous hue as the sparkling air around them.

‘That we are, love.’

[ben-talks-art]

Thoughts on Sonic Prime season 1 part 1

Felt it would be nice to share what I thought as I go through my list.

Overall first impressions? I liked it! I had some problems with it here and there but I felt the good things outweighed the bad.

I'm glad that they took a risk and tried something different with the concept of alternate universes (different for Sonic at least since everywhere else, alternate universes have been a super popular trope lately for some reason...), but they still managed to keep it feeling like a Sonic story with the whole theme nature vs technology.

The plot is pretty basic. It's literally the same story from the Spider-Man game "Shattered Dimensions" in that a big magic rock (because of course there is a big magic rock) gets broken and causes the hero to connect with parallel realities, and from there we see alternate versions of the cast of characters and how they turn out under different circumstances.

At first, I was really excited about seeing these different versions of the characters but... With the exception of Amy and Tails, a lot of them just feel like the same people but with different clothes.

Rouge and Big feel nearly the same in every dimension Sonic visits, while Knuckles only really feels different in one, and even then, not that much.

Tails and Amy though, they steal the show. If you like Tails and Amy, you're gonna love this because the writers do try to have fun with the ways these characters could have turned out.

I'm totally expecting people to say the alternative versions of Tails or Amy are their new favorite Sonic characters.

There is also something fun they do with Sonic's gloves and shoes where each time he goes to a new world they adapt to that world kinda like Sora in the Kingdom Hearts games. One world gives him Wolverine claws, and another gives him boots to run on water.

It keeps each world feeling fresh and get you excited to find out what the rules are and how they'll come into play.

Speaking of, this really needs to become a game because some of these ideas have way too much potential. There is a scene where Sonic fights a character with a weapon that can grow trees at will, another where he runs through an ocean while trying to dodge rocks as he guides a ship, and another where he's trying to play "hot or cold" to find the secret McGuffin by paying attention to the glow of his items. There were so many times when I was watching and going "Ah, I wish I could play a level like this!"

On that note, the action is good too. It's definitely not Arcane level, but they do try to be creative with Sonic's speed and ball form. There is a scene where he's teaching the not-Knuckles and not-Tails from another dimension how to spindash and all suddenly all three of them start going at the same time while trashing a bunch of robots. It was such a small scene but it made me fanboy a little. I always love seeing the spindash being used in fun ways.

Now... For some of the problems I had...

First of, I hope you like the selection of characters they use in the first episode because that's all they're using during the entire thing.

There is no Blaze, no Cream, no Silver, no Chaotix, it's mostly just the characters from the Sonic Adventure games.

I remember that when they go to the pirate dimension they at one point get attacked by another ship and I thought to myself "Wouldn't it be funny if Cream the Rabbit was some sort of big, bad, super evil pirate queen?" But no... They just use some random original background characters. I don't know if there is some sort of contract that limits who they can or can't use but it's still a bit of a shame.

Second thing that was a little odd was Shadow. Shadow is always funny to me because he's kinda like Venom in that you can tell people a lot of times have no idea how to use him. You know they have to include him in things because of how popular he is, but they can never decide if they should make him good so people can root for him, or bad so they can give him a reason to fight Sonic.

This version is good-ish...? But extremely aggressive for no reason. He mostly just pops out of nowhere to attack Sonic because he keeps getting irritated with the dude's way of doing things. His presence honestly feels a little forced, but maybe it will make more sense in the latter half of the season.

And then... There is Sonic himself.

I'm honestly not a big fan of this version of Sonic. He seems to be written in a way that all his most recognizable defining traits are dialed up to 11.

His arrogance, his ego, his insensitivity, and even his intelligence seemed to have been slightly altered to make him feel like an immature kid, which is a really big whiplash after seeing his version in frontiers.

Sometimes they try interesting things with him like when he tries to play a mediator to an angry mob or try to convince his not-friends that they can trust him or talk a pirate into not giving up being a pirate... But then there are things like refusing to simply talk to Shadow instead of fighting him, dismissing Amy's heartfelt gift, or not noticing a giant open door as Rouge tried to get inside the house.

It feels like Sonic's maturity is a hostage to the plot's needs. He'll be a kid when the plot needs him to be, and he will be an adult when the plot needs him to be. It's not terrible... But it is noticeable.

At the end of the day, I feel like Prime has a lot of potential, but it still needs a little more polishment.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Dream Eater - Chapter 10 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

My shadowy vision indicates he bows in my direction and I do the same towards him.

"Likewise, General Oran," I say, playing along for Damien's sake.

"If you'll excuse me," Oran says. "I have a speech to give."

He leaves us and the interminable mingling continues but from that point on, I notice that Damien's hand never quite leaves my arm.

The party drags on for another eon or so but like all things must, it eventually comes to an end. In our chambers, Damien helps me to bathe and change.

I've gotten pretty good at navigating familiar spaces without sight but I'm tired enough not to mind his hovering.

As he guides me to the bed and pulls the blankets back for me, I risk the proposition that's been on my mind all evening.

"Damien... I need a dream," I say, catching his hand. "Will you stay?"

I see his shape looming over me, like some dark angel.

"Are you sure? I thought my dreams were too much."

They are but they're also familiar and available.

Which, I realize, are two reasons that underlie a lot of poor choices but I make this one anyway.

"I'm sure," I say, going for levity but sounding a little desperate. "And hey, you don't even have to pay me."

He settles beside me on the bed and takes my hand.

"My dreams haven't been as bad since my memory returned," he says. "I think you've seen the worst already."

"Great. Maybe you'll dream about something mundane, like snakes or falling."

I'm not counting on it but hope springs eternal.

********

This time, the dream is from Damien's perspective.

He/I stand on a ledge over a precipice.

The sky roils with orange clouds and the landscape looks like a mountainous region of Mars.

I get the sense this is one of the lower realms.

Beside me stands a man I love and who I know I'm going to lose.

He's tall and fair and beautiful.

He looks like he's lit from within by his own star and the light of it shines from his eyes with gentle warmth.

He's dressed for battle but carries no weapon.

"Sakariel, is there nothing I can do to dissuade you? Nothing I can say to make you change your mind?" I ask.

I feel like I'd let worlds burn if it meant I could protect him.

He shakes his head and gives me a sad smile.

"No, 'Talian. The time is now. All things have their season and mine nears an end. I will make this attempt and whether it succeeds or fails, it shall be my last."

His words weigh on my heart like stones.

"I wish we had more time," I say, feeling it slip through my grasp even as I speak.

He takes my hand.

"As do I," he sighs. "'Talian, whatever happens, know that if my life were my own to give, it would belong to you."

He steps back and I see that he holds a silver horn in his hand.

Raising it to his lips, he sounds a long clear note and I feel it pierce me like a spear.

The end has begun.

The dream shifts and I stand on the top of a high tower.

The sound of battle rises from below.

Fear catches at my heart and I draw the long blade I wear at my hip, ready to fight.

Sakariel is at my back, grief in the lines of his face and the slope of his shoulders.

Oran is there as well.

"They've breached the lower levels," he tell us. "Sakariel... Azael's assassins did not gain entry without aid from within. We've been betrayed."

He slumps against the wall.

"Then it is over."

"You must escape," Oran says urgently. "Dantalian, take him and go. I will hold them off."

"I am no coward, Oran," Sakariel says. "I will not flee and leave my people to suffer in my stead."

"Damn it, Sakariel. If you won't think of yourself, then think of me," I shout. "I won't leave without you. Either we go together or we die together here."

I see his hesitation and for a moment I'm not sure which he'll choose.

Finally he nods and reaches for my hand.

There's nothing like hope in his eyes but there is love.

"Very well, 'Talian. Whatever of my life is left, it's all yours."

Oran yells at us to go.

I hold Sakariel in my arms and heart shivering with hope and fear, let the fire of the Fallen take us away.

********

I wake up with a racing heart but Damien was right.

Compared to his other dreams, that one wasn't so bad.

I feel stressed out and depressed but my energy is restored.

I blink a few times but my sight is no better than it was.

Damien's hand is still in mine and he's still asleep.

Sitting up, I consider his shadowy outline with a frown.

The stress and sorrow are already fading but another feeling remains strong.

I've always been pretty good at separating the emotions in people's dreams from my own but it's hard to experience a love like the one he had for Sakariel and not feel at least a little affection for the guy.

On impulse, I reach over and lay my hand on his chest above his heart, feeling the steady beat of it beneath my palm.

I don't remember seeing this in the dreams but I'm suddenly certain that it's something Sakariel used to do.

The feeling unnerves me and he chooses that moment to wake up. I snatch my hand back.

"Alex?" he asks, sitting up. "Is everything okay?"

The images from the dream flash through my mind and that weirdly persistent feeling pulses a little stronger.

"Yeah," I say and turn away to get up. "Everything's fine."

I meet a bunch of people over the next several days, most of whose names I fail to remember.

Apparently, they're what's left of Sakariel's closest allies in this realm. 

Maybe it's the fact I know it was an ally of some sort that betrayed him but I don't like any of them very much.

The feeling seems mutual.

I catch more than a few whispered arguments about 'unclean souls' and 'demonic pollution' and by lunchtime on the third day, I've had enough.

"Damien, why are you making me meet these people?" I ask. "They clearly don't want to meet me."

"They do," Damien assures me. "Heavenly Keys are rare and usually aeons pass between one occurrence and the next. To have found even a piece of one gives them hope."

"Well, don't let them get their hopes up too much, because I'm no hero or leader or whatever-the-fuck your dead angel was. I'm demon trash and as soon as I get the opportunity, I'm out of here."

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

When he goes on, it's with the patient air of a parent dealing with a cranky child.

"We need their protection, Alex. We might have asylum here for now but things change. The knowledge that you carry part of a Key will incline them to our favor."

"So you're using me?" I ask and contemplate exactly how angry I should feel.

He sighs.

"Let's go out. I know your vision hasn't completely returned but the fresh air will do us both good."

I consider being difficult for the hell of it but then decide that a walk actually sounds nice.

We wander the city streets and while I can't see clearly, my vision has improved enough that the world looks kind of like an Impressionist painting.

I can see colors, shapes, shades of dark and light.

The sounds and smells are interesting in their own right and I make Damien stop and describe stuff to me almost constantly.

I gather that the city is a strange mix of ancient and modern.

There are something like electric lights but everyone goes about either on foot or by the boats in the canals.

The economy is based on a form of credit calculated according to a person's station and the shops range from street vendors to what amount to high-end boutiques.

Damien buys me some sort of pastry with the credit Allannan gave him and I nibble at it as we walk back across one of the great bridges spanning a wide canal.

We're about halfway across when Damien stops short.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I thought I saw... someone I know," he says, sounding odd.

"Alex, wait here. I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey. Don't just..." but he's already gone... "Leave me here," I finish with a sigh.

The bridge has a low stone railing along its edge and I sit on it while I wait, wondering if I could find my way back on my own if Damien forgets me here.

I watch the indistinct shapes of people passing back and forth and listen to the persistent background noises of the city's life. 

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Seven

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language (Maybe)

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: hello friends! Enjoy this plz. also idk what’s wrong but I’m having a hard time remembering things and my brain is just super mush. I think I’m like, malnourished and exhausted but I really don’t know. Goodnight though, I love you all!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How many times must I explain this? I hardly remember anything. I could barely see his face through the snow. I know not his name nor his rank, all I know is that he was wearing the armour of a Knight.” You’re getting frustrated now as you explain for what feels like the thousandth time what happened before you ventured out into the snow.

James and Steve exchange glances.

“I did not send for her. And I know you would not trust her safety in the hands of anyone who has not fought alongside you in battle. I believe-” James stops speaking abruptly, shaking his head. He’s not sure who is trying to sabotage his marriage, and he doesn’t want them to know that he knows.

“What?” You ask softly, stepping towards him. He takes a step back and you frown. You’d thought that after the night you had spent with the man that he would be more open to having you, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Nat!” The redhead is in Steve’s office as soon as he says her name.

“I want you or Sam with (Y/n) at all times. You may only leave her side if you are directly dismissed by one of the three of us. Do you understand?” She nods, guilt heavy in her gut at the fact that you could’ve died because of her carelessness.

“Have Clint bring the stable boy here. I want him to give me details. I need to know who the traitor is and why they want my wife dead,” Steve says after a moment, his eyes hard at the thought of someone wanting to bring you harm.

“I’ll go,” James pipes in, avoiding your eyes as he walks to the door, closing it tightly behind himself.

Your shoulders slump and you shake your head sadly. “I had thought that after our night... we may be starting to rebuild our relationship. However, it seems as though he does not wish for that to happen.” Steve sighs, walking around his desk to wrap his arms around your frame.

“He is sad and afraid. He has not been himself for a long while, but he will come back.” Your bottom lip quivers and you curse yourself for being so emotional.

“I do not wish to be the cause of his unhappiness. At times I wonder if it would be better if I stayed away. If I allowed the two of you to continue as if I were not here at all.” Steve turns you around and lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You are very important to both of us. If he truly wanted you out of the picture he would not have gone out to find you. You matter far too much to the both of us. He will come around again, he just needs some time.”

A knock on the door pulls your attention from him and you sniffle, wiping a stray tear off of your cheek.

“Come in.”

The door gets pushed open and a red-faced young man scurries in, his eyes focused on the ground as he bows.

“Y-you called for me, Your Majesties?” Your heart warms at the obvious nervousness.

“What is your name?” You ask, cutting Steve off. He raises his eyebrows at you and you simply smile, taking a step away from him and towards the boy.

“P-Peter, Your Majesty. A-and I did not mean for any harm to come to you. I was led to believe that the man was indeed a knight of the king and that the business transpiring was none that should involve me. I ask that you are lenient in your punishment, for I truly enjoy my position and I am so grateful that you have given me the opportunity to work here. I-” You raise your hand, silencing his rambling and looking every bit like the queen you are.

Steve watches from behind you, never having seen you truly take control of the title you have.

“You will not be punished for following the orders of someone who seemed to be an honest man. No harm came from it. We simply would like to know if you have any recollection of his name or his rank. Or perhaps a description of his appearance.” The boy stares at you in shock before looking to the King. Steve simply nods and the boy inhales deeply.

“I did not gather his name nor his rank, Your Majesty. But he seemed tall. Not as tall as the King, Mind you, but still taller than most knights. And his build was slimmer, which I found surprising. I should’ve questioned it and I will spend my days regretting that I did not because our Kingdom could have lost its queen due to my carelessness and-”

“Peter, please stay focused,” Steve says. The boy swallows hard and nods, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“He had... dark hair and dark eyes... bared no resemblance to any knight I’ve ever seen before. He lacked the composure of a knight as well. It almost seemed as if he were trying to mimic the actions of one.” You turn to Steve, brows raised at this new information.

“Thank you, Peter. That will be all.” The boy bows again then hurries out of the room.

“So someone was able to pose as a knight? But who? And why? I hardly have a purpose in the kingdom. Why did I become a target?” Steve shakes his head, wishing he had the answers of which you seek.

“I know not. But I will be bringing this up when James and I meet with the council next. Any threat against our wife is a direct threat against our kingdom, and justice needs to be served.” The mention of your other husband has your heart aching.

“Do... do you think he would talk to me were I to find him?” You ask. Steve purses his lips. James seemed so comfortable with you the other night. He hates the thought, but maybe it’s his presence that is making James so distant.

“There is no harm in trying. Have Natalia accompany you.” You nod, gathering your skirts and hurrying out of the room, the redhead hot on your heels.

“I offer you my sincerest apologies, your majesty. I should have been there.” You shake your head at her, smiling softly.

“Do not apologize, Natalia. No one was harmed.” you pause just as you’re about to walk past the glass doors leading to the gardens, a glint of silver catching your eye.

“You may wait here. I fear having any more of an audience will only have a negative effect,” you whisper, pushing the door open and venturing into the snow.

Natalia stands just outside the door, watching with her hand on the hilt of her sword as you walk down the path towards the brooding king.

“James?” You call, waiting until he looks at you.

“You should not be here,” he murmurs, his eyes closing tightly and his hands clenching into fists. He huffs out heavy breaths through his nose, the air forming a misty cloud that dissipates slowly.

“James, please. I cannot stand the distance you put between us. I am begging you to let me in.” He grinds his teeth together, his face contorting in what looks like pain before suddenly going stoic.

He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough for you to slowly approach him, fingers prickling in the cold winter air.

“James?” You ask softly, hoping he’s ready to open up to you again.

His eyes snap open and in a flash of silver, he’s got his metal hand wrapped around your throat, fingers flexing and nearly crushing your windpipe.

Your eyes widen and you instinctively grab at the metal appendage.

His face is devoid of emotion as he lifts you nearly clean off the ground, the tips of your toes hardly brushing the ground. Your lungs burn and tears of pain and discomfort well up in your eyes.

There’s a whooshing sound and then he grunts, toppling to the left and dropping you to the ground.

You collapse in a heap, hands grabbing at your throat protectively as you draw in huge lungfuls of air between painful coughs.

The sound of metal clanging against metal has your eyes shooting upwards just in time to see two swords connect above you, one belonging to the king and the other belonging to Natalia.

“Your Majesty, get back!” She shouts, her eyes on you for a brief moment.

You scramble through the snow, trying to get to the palace and call for help.

James overpowers the redhead with practiced ease, and then his murderous gaze is focused on you again.

Fear freezes you in place and you stare up at him with wide eyes while Natalia is screaming for him to stop, for someone to come to your aid.

His sword comes down right as a powerful hand jerks you to the side.

The blow that was meant to kill you draws a red line across your cheek, blood spilling out and trailing down your chin.

The hot liquid splatters against the frozen snow, melting a hole and staining the white.

For a moment you’re reminded of your place in the world. A stain against purity. A mistake.

You’re wrenched back to reality by hands yanking you backwards, away from where the two Kings fight each other, Steve with desperation and James with determination.

“Come, Majesty.” Nat helps you inside but you don’t move past the doors, heart hammering in your chest as guards rush out to help the blond king.

“Your Majesty, you’re injured. We must-” you shake your head at her, eyes far too focused on the fight.

James manages to knock Steve’s sword away but is quickly distracted by the other men, giving the blond an opportunity to deliver a nasty blow to the back of his head.

The brunet collapses in the snow, groaning and grabbing his head.

You watch with nothing but terror and tears in your eyes as he slowly pushes himself to his knees, familiar blue eyes looking around in confusion.

They land on you, blood on your cheek and fear in your eyes and he nearly throws up as he realizes what he’s done.

“James?” He shakes his head at Steve, stumbling to his feet and hurrying into the Palace.

“James!” He runs straight past you and down the hallway, disappearing after a few moments.

Steve stands in the snow, blue eyes narrowed and pink lips parted. He pants, trying to gather his thoughts while the cold air bites his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Steve is at your side in a flash, his hand cupping your cheek and angling your head to allow himself to inspect your wound.

“Just a scratch,” he murmurs, brows drawn together as he glances to where his husband was.

Your eyes, however, are drawn to a movement in the garden.

A familiar pair of muddy brown eyes stand out against the snow and you inhale sharply.

“Steve, it’s him.” He follows your gaze to the garden,

“Guards!” He shouts, grabbing his sword and hurrying out into the snow.

“Please, your majesty. I need to tend to your wound.” You finally allow Natalia to drag you away, but not before hearing Steve mention something about the dungeon to one of the guards with him.

~*~

You toss and turn all throughout the night, missing the warmth of your husband and beyond afraid at the events of the day.

Not only were you attacked, but you also potentially caught the man who wants you dead.

The worst part? Steve has given you zero information. No matter how much you asked, he refused to say a single thing about James or the stranger in the garden.

So that is how you have ended up here, pacing through the dark palace halls in search of your blond husband.

As you’re leaving his empty office you hear a whisper of your name, followed by a soft laugh.

You frown and follow the sound, the voice beckoning you closer and yet getting further away every time you approach.

The voice leads you through the halls for what feels like hours until you find yourself in front of a wooden door that nearly blends in with the walls around it.

Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you push the door open. It creaks loudly and you instinctively look around to make sure that no one heard.

Once deeming the coast to be clear, you slowly walk through the doorway and nearly fall.

It’s a spiral staircase going downwards.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you take the steps one at a time, getting reminded of all the times you snuck around the Palace back home.

Through the darkness, there’s a yellow glow that you identify as candlelight.

You dare not step into the light, so instead, you stay tucked safely around the corner, ears straining to hear... anything.

You make out two voices, one of them far more familiar than the other.

“I am going to ask you one last time: who is it that is plotting against me?” Steve demands.

The other man sounds weak, his breath coming in ragged pants.

You risk a glance around the corner, eyes finding the two in the dimly lit room. Th man on the ground is bloody and bruised and you can hardly recognize him until he speaks.

“You’d best be careful who you allow into your circle, your Majesty. I serve my Kingdom, but not all who are close to you are true to their word. Is it not suspicious that so many terrible events have occurred so soon after the Queen was brought here?” Steve's hand comes down hard against the man’s face and you hold back a gasp.

“If you do not cooperate and answer truthfully, I will rip your teeth out one by one and force them down your throat.”

The man spits blood onto the ground then chuckles weakly.

His bloodied face is too much for you, and you turn on your heel and run up the stairs as silently as you can, hands trembling with fear and disgust as you realize that both kings are brutal in their own sick ways.

“You know I speak the truth. The change in your husband has only occurred since your wife has been here. Has Orlen always been a friend to us? Or have they been trying to get into our Kingdom to take what they wish?”

Steve is silent for just a moment too long, long enough for the man to know he struck a nerve.

“If you wish to kill me, do so. But remember my warning. And do not be surprised when she turns on you, too.”

~*~

He doesn’t return to his chambers for nearly an hour after that, and as much as you try, you cannot fall asleep after what you witnessed.

Sure, you expected there to be consequences, but you never imagined that Steve would torture the man with his own hands.

When he finally returns to you, he climbs into bed without noticing your stiff figure.

His arm comes around your waist as it usually would, and you try your hardest not to flinch away from him.

A single glance down shows you his split knuckles and you have to bite your lip to stop from making a noise of fear.

He falls asleep quickly behind you, and you’re horrified at how comfortable he is with being so brutal to another human being.

~*~

The King paces in his office, the question of the prisoner echoing in his mind.

He had not even considered the possibility of you being responsible for the change in his husband’s demeanour, but it only started since you came to the palace.

A weight settles in the pit of his stomach and he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

He needs to speak to you immediately.

Just as he pulls the door to his study open, you raise your hand to knock.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing your chest and taking a sharp breath.

���You startled me. I was just coming to find you. H-have you any news of James?” Your eyes stray down to his split knuckles and Steve takes notice of the tension in your shoulders.

“He’s locked himself in the east wing. He refuses to speak to anyone but doctor banner,” he says, voice stiff and mechanical.

You nod slowly, stepping into the room when he steps aside and motions you to come in.

It’s silent for a long moment, the pressure nearly making your eardrums burst.

You want him to say something, anything. Explain what happened last night or what’s going on today. You’re far too terrified to ask him, however. After witnessing what you did... you do not want to anger him.

That seems to be a futile wish, however.

“Is he alright?” You try, hoping that this is a safe topic.

Steve doesn’t reply. No, instead he paces slowly around the room.

“Do you take me for a fool?” He asks, eyes finding you for the first time.

“What are you talking about?” You’re genuinely curious, trying to think of what you could’ve done to make him ask you this.

“I will ask you again, and this time you will answer. Do you take me for a fool?” He’s walking to you now, steps purposeful and intimidating, a walk that he has practiced and perfected.

You back up a step, fear coursing through your veins. “N-no, of course not. What is this about, Steve?”

“You will address me properly.” You’ve never seen this side of him before. Except for last night.

“I-I don’t think I am understanding... Your Majesty.” You’re not sure if you are more disappointed or sad, but you drop your eyes to the floor.

“Rumours have been spoken, words whispered of a traitor among us. Someone who wishes for the kingdom to fall. Someone close to myself.”

You furrow your brows, taken aback by the accusation.

“And you think me capable of that?” You demand.

He shrugs but his eyes are anything but calm. There’s a fiery storm in his blue eyes, accusation and rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“I hardly know you. It would be foolish of me to think you are anything more than a spy sent by Orlen.” Your heart hurts and you need to take a few deep breaths before you speak.

“I have been nothing but loyal to you, your husband, and your kingdom. Who might I even have to conspire with? I have not been allowed near the people, and I fear my own ladies because their loyalties lie with you.”

Your words ring with truths that even you didn’t consider until now. Steve opens his mouth to speak but you do not allow him a turn.

“I have not breathed a word of the brutalities I have experienced at the hand of your beloved. I have not even dreamed of leaving the castle walls for fear of what consequences would await such thoughts. From the moment I arrived, I have been treated like dirt and yet you stand here with the audacity to question my loyalties!”

He’s taken aback for a moment. He wants to trust you, he really does, but he just can't. Not after what the man said last night. It makes too much sense that you would do this.

“You speak of rumours... as if you do not have your own to worry about. Your brutality is spoken of throughout the continent. Clearly, the rumours hold true, for your brutality extends far beyond the lines of the battlefield. The kings show no mercy, not even to their wife in the privacy of their bed chambers.”

He grabs your forearms tightly, face full of fury.

“You will watch your tongue, woman!” You huff out a breath and shake your head, face contorting in pain as his grip tightens.

“You are so quick to accuse me when you were nowhere to be found in a time that I needed you.” His brows raise nearly to his hairline.

“Are you implying that I had a hand in that?” He demands, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he only gets more furious.

“I imply nothing, your majesty. I am simply taking note of the fact that you were conveniently away during a time when I was in peril.”

His hand comes up before he can register what’s happening, and then you’re tumbling to the floor, the crisp sound of a slap ringing in his ears.

Your hands tremble and your cheek burns. You stay rooted in place, eyes squeezed shut in fear as he towers over you.

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes wide with horror at himself.

“Your actions only further prove my point,” you whisper, blinking your eyes open to suppress your tears.

“And do yours not prove mine?” He counters, glaring at you as you rub your aching wrists. Seeing you cower beneath him, so small and so fragile, his anger starts to melt away.

“I would like to remind you, Your Majesty, that I do not benefit from being here. I have only traded one prison for another, and I am not sure how much longer I will endure such treatment.”

He opens his mouth to speak, one hand extending to help you to your feet. His eyes find a line of red on your cheek and he glances down at his hand, the mark on your cheek matching his wedding band.

Now you have matching scratches on either side of your face.

“Do not touch me,” you hiss, glaring up at him with wet eyes.

He’s crouching down when there’s a knock on the door. Sam pushes it open without waiting for an invitation but the look on his face is enough for Steve not to snap at him.

“There’s been an attempt on Doctor Banner’s life.”

[tavvattales]

Is it ok if I request hcs for Bennett with someone that gets a lot of mental breakdowns? Ive been having a lot lately and wanted to think abt my comfort character so I could get my head out of it :/

Hihi lovely! Of course you can. I hope you've been feeling better and that you smiled today <3 Know that my DMs and Ask Box are always open if you need someone to talk to or vent.

TW: Talk of mental illness

For those that suffer with anxiety, depression, or other mental illness, my page is a safe place for you to freely talk about your feelings(as long as you put a TW before the post). I know the feelings all too well and it can feel so lonely, that you have no one to lean on. But with my page, I support all of you 100%, never be afraid to reach out. Each and everyone of you are valid and your feelings DO matter. It's okay to feel all the feelings! It doesn't make you weak to let them all out <3

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

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Bennett guides you and comforts you through a panic attack

Characters: Bennett

Pairings: Bennett x gn reader

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of dissociation and panic attacks, please read at your own risk.

SFW ❤

Click below if you want to keep reading and be comforted by Benny boy 🥰

BENNETT:

● You never met someone who radiated such positive energy before you met him. You always looked up to him for being able to pick himself back up so easily after a bad day. You fell in love with his strength and resilience to keep pushing on no matter what obstacles got in his way, but also his kindness.

● Bennett never met someone who was so in tune with their emotions. He was so used to people bottling up their feelings, but with you, it was different. Someone made you mad? You would let them know. You discovered something exciting? You were all for it and let everyone know with such joy and enthusiasm! He fell in love with your softness and ability to feel all these emotions.

"Y/N," The voice rang in your ears, yet it felt distant. You recognized it, but for some reason your brain wouldn't register and respond. Your vision was blurry until those dreaded words brought you back to reality, "Y/N. . .are you okay?"

No, you were the furthest from okay. It was like your world shattered into a million pieces, like pesky shards of glass that whenever you tried to pick them up, your wounds would only get deeper. Your eyes refocused, glossy, and bubbling over with tears, "I can't breath, " You manage to say between broken sobs.

The silver haired young man's emerald eyes softened with worry as he sat down next to you. He gently pushed back strands of your hair that clung to your tear soaked face, wiping your never ending tears away in the process, "Shh, shh, take deep breaths with me," He spoke softly, breathing in a deep breath and holding it for three seconds before letting it out.

You tried to follow suit, your breath shaky and raspy, your heart still pounding fast, but with each deep breath you could feel your heart beat slow, "Take it nice and slow, as much time as you need, Y/N," The young man said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

He continued to breath with you until you could formulate words, "B-bennett. . .thank you," you gave him a weak smile, your eyes and face flushed red and puffy. Your body was still in fight or flight and you felt light headed, but you managed to stop crying and your heart stopped racing a mile a minute. Bennett softly cups your face with his hands, pressing his forehead against yours as if he was giving you his positive energy.

You press back into him and the two of you stay like that for a while before he speaks up softly, "You are never alone when you're with me. When you're having a hard time and it feels like your world is crumbling apart, I will be here to help you pick up the pieces and bandage you back up, no matter how long it takes. I love you, Y/N, through your good days, and especially your bad days when you need my love the most, I will be here." He places a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling away, "But also, remember to be gentle and kind to yourself. You're doing the absolute best you can each and every day. Be proud of that. I know I am. I am SO proud of you, Y/N"

With those kind words you couldn't help but tear up once more, but this time for a happier reason. You didn't feel so alone anymore.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Behind the Curtain Part 6 Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

This is a translation of part 6 of Behind the Curtain. Part 6 has long since been available on CN server when season 1 ch.32 was released and to this day has yet to be added for global server. I don’t know why it hasn’t been included or if it will ever be added to global server since it contains a lot of insight, foreshadowing, and important plot details especially in regards to Kiro’s story arc. There are also short appearances from the other 3 LIs. Therefore, I’ve translated it for anyone who is interested in reading more about it. Do note that the content of BTC part 6 includes events from season 1 ch. 25-28 so if you have not read up to those chapters, then please do so to avoid confusion. 

Without further ado, enjoy~

The flames in front of me gradually extinguished. Amid the smoke of gunpowder, a blonde man turned around. There was a slight loneliness in his azure blue eyes.

??: Your little friend looked sad.

Kiro: This isn’t something you should concern yourself with.

Kiro raised his head. His blue eyes were still. Under the firelight, they looked cold and alienated.

The dark-skinned man shrugged, gave a little whistle, and jumped into the helicopter in front of him.

??: Let’s go. To our new world.

Kiro paused and stared at the ruins in the distance. His golden hair slowly glowed with a silver luster. He raised his finger and the silver ring began to shine.

He lowered his voice, whispering to the ring and almost as if to himself.

Kiro: She will wait for me.

Kiro: For the Brave New World.

His voice was swallowed by the smoke behind him. The radiance from the ring instantly magnified, stinging my eyes…

MC: Kiro….what is he going to do…

After the white light dissipated, flickering spots of light and huge space-time gears appeared again in front of my eyes and a half-closed door that I wasn’t aware of.

A mysterious voice rang in my ears but the content of those words was somewhat familiar.

??: Now, tell me your name.

Helios: Helios.

This scene awakened some fragmented memories in my mind. It seemed that within the darkness of a certain time, I had heard a similar conversation. ***The similar conversation MC is referring to would be in Behind the Curtain Part 3***

??: Remembered what you promised me.

Helios: ….After she returns, the New World Project will begin.

The silver-haired young man turned around and quickly disappeared into a space of disordered electromagnetic waves. I finally remembered that I had indeed heard this conversation.

Only then did I realize that the voice speaking to Helios was clearly an old man.

??: I am the one who reached an agreement with him.

The voice suddenly responded to my inner thoughts.

??: In this time and space, both you and I can freely choose our own way of being.

MC: Can you hear what I’m thinking?

??: There is no difference between thinking or speaking. All the boundaries of existence….can be altered with your thoughts.

??: For example, what you will see next.

Before I could react, the sound of a door opening again came from faraway and the sound of footsteps gradually came closer. What appeared before me was a familiar girl in a black dress.

Girl: I’m here to say goodbye to you.

I subconsciously felt that the girl was not talking to me at this moment. That voice immediately responded to her.

??: Oh? Have you got what you wanted?

The girl shook the black box in her hand. When I saw the box, I suddenly felt a trembling pain and my heart tightened.

Girl: She thought this was the key to unlocking this place but she didn’t expect that I would obtain her power in this way. ***So it was all a set-up? Black Queen just wanted MC’s power all along.***

??: So, are you ready to close this door? Say goodbye to your birthplace?

Girl: Yes, I have no need to come back here anymore. I will be the only me in that world.

??: In that case, I wish you success.

Girl: Goodbye…

There was an ear-splitting noise which left a tingling in my ears and I couldn’t hear the name the girl said. She turned with a smile and walked towards the hidden door.

I stared at the black box in her hand and my consciousness seemed to shake with her every step.

??: If you want to see, go check it out. After all, the door you opened is going to be locked again.

The mysterious voice guides me. The black box in front of me seems to be getting bigger and bigger and my vision is plunged into boundless darkness….

Cyril: Do you know why BLACK SWAN is called this name?

What greeted me again was the gentle and soothing piano music flowing in the air from the elegant young man standing in the exquisite gift shop.

His gaze fell to me. The appearance of a black box was reflected in his eyes and his brows seemed cold as if touched by snow.

MC: (Am I…in this box?)

Cyril: BLACK SWAN represents all unprecedented accidents. Mankind will never be able to predict the outcome of these rare events.

Cyril: When I first heard this name, I quite liked it, so I chose to join them.

Cyril: Though it’s a pity….most of them are still stuck in this familiar illusion. Perhaps, only a few people are aware of human ignorance.

Cyril: They cannot help me complete my work.

Girl: Then let me help you this time.

But when the young man turned around, his eyes were still cold and distant as if the girl was just another display item in this shop.

The girl’s fingers slipped onto the black box and those quaking tremors shot deep into my heart like a coldness spreading through my bones.

Girl: How you want to deal with it is your own freedom.

When her fingers left the box, I let out a sigh of relief.

Cyril: Is it? I’m very curious about who they are waiting for.

Cyril: In this world, no one may really be waiting for her.

While talking, the young man stretched out his hand and pressed a key on the crystal piano. The discordant notes suddenly rang out, extending infinitely in my ears.

Woman: Cyril, play and use your power…help mom make a perfect world.

The woman on the bed has the same beautiful eyes as the boy, looking at him weakly and full of nostalgia.

Woman: Let me see the best things in this world one last time.

Woman: This is…the meaning of your existence.

In the wind and snow, the boy’s face became more visible and soon the image of a young boy appeared. Little by little, he became sharp and angular, turning into that elegant young man.

The window was opened by the wind and the woman on the bed was swept by the falling flakes until she turned into a puff of white snow and slowly disappeared into the world.

The young man’s eyes were always focused on the piano in front of him. He seemed completely unaware of the violent blizzard outside.

Until the snowflakes turned into hailstones pelting on the window.

Bang!

There was a loud crash. Scattered glass shards came in and flew straight towards the piano. The young man was so enraptured by the piano, he never raised his eyes once.

MC: Look out!

The fragments slid across the young man’s slender fingers and blood stains were immediately left on the icy skin.

His movements stopped. The time that belonged to him seemed freeze at that moment. In the room filled with heavy snow, there was still the sound of the piano.

The young man raised his head. His eyes were transparent and pure but confused like a snowflake that was about to melt. He seemed to be the child who was sitting on the piano stool from before.

Cyril: Who…are you?

MC: …I, who am I?

Perhaps, I am nothing but a broken component of a gene hidden in a cold black box with a high-sounding name. A power that has been coveted by countless people.

Where is…the real me?

The heavy snow continues to fall, enveloping the world that belonged to the youth.

One after another, images appeared before my eyes.

Standing in front of the opened accelerated evolution module, Lucien was full of shock and anger.

Lucien: …It’s you.

On the swaying freighter, Victor, who opened a box, showed a stunned look.

Victor: It’s you.

In the messy base corridor, Gavin stood next to the mechanical pillar, catching the black box that had fallen from the air. His figure froze.

Gavin: It’s you…

In the gorgeous and vacant dark hall, Kiro walked step by step to the center of the light beam. A faint gold color suffused his pupils.

Kiro: I know…it’s you. ***Just like in season 1 chapter 24, Kiro says his lines differently than the other 3 guys.***

The people in front of me are constantly shifting among familiar scenes. I no longer doubt the truthfulness of it all. Perhaps these have actually happened…

In another timeline…under another possibility…in countless situations, they repeat the same thing over and over again—

Find this black box.

Find the genetic model hidden within it.

Find Queen.

Find—

??: It’s you. ***The person sounds like he is saying “shi ni” but it sounds distorted or unintelligible like it doesn’t sound like CN or any other language we’re familiar with in the real world.***

Those repeated two words converged into a tangled echo in my ears, digging into the depths of my consciousness layer by layer, urging them into a powerful force.

That power gradually increased and continued to grow stronger, twisting into a bottomless vortex, swallowing my consciousness….

??: In this chaotic time and space, have you found the answer you want?

The specks of light and gears appeared once more. I’m back here again and waiting for me is still the voice that has been pulling me.

I can’t see him nor can I see my body. But now, I slowly understood that I should not have seen my own existence here.

I am only….I’m…

??: Have you finally found it?

That voice seemed to hear what I was thinking and began to question me.

??: Then say your inner answer—

??: Who are you? ***I couldn’t help but think of that famous quote ‘I am what I am’***

<It does not matter which one you choose. The dialogue afterwards will be the same. I decided to go with my in-game name>

MC: I am Y/N.

??: …I have heard your answer.

??: Then take your choice and face your world.

??: When you return here, everything will—

??: Restart.

-End-

My mind blown is just completely blown after reading all of this🤯🤯🤯 Seems like Kiro made a deal with someone in, what I assume, is Black Cabin about the New World Project in exchange for receiving the power of Helios perhaps. I do remember in part 3 of BTC that Kiro’s master KEY, who was the previous Helios, told Kiro he was going to meet an important person when he used the codes given to him by KEY to open a door. Is this “important person” the same person Kiro (as Helios) is speaking to in Black Cabin? What is this person’s agenda exactly? In regards to this New World Project, I have yet to see it be mentioned anywhere in season 2. Maybe in the next chapter update, there will be more plot development for Kiro involving the New World Project now that his and MC’s relationship is in a pretty good place after chapter 22: Towards the Seas of Stars as well as some answers to my burning questions since season 1. I will be referring back a little bit of this post in my Final Thoughts post on Season 2 Chapter 22 (still in progress). 

[lunarastrobabe]

Joel Miller x F!Reader: Sleepless Night

(Fluff/Angst) (Age Difference)  (Warning: Details of smut included) 

- 

Joel sat down on one of the chairs on his porch, clutching his guitar in one hand, and coffee in the other in his well-known owl mug. Letting out a heavy sigh, with tired eyes and set the guitar by his feet, taking a sip from his drink. He had struggled sleeping the past few nights due to the last patrol he had went on with [Y/N]. The memory of her getting jumped by runners and her cries for help traumatised him. Thanks to him, he saved her life. It wasn’t the first time he had saved her or risked his life to keep her safe, he was determined to protect her. Since that day, he’s been avoiding her. He had never spoken to her openly about his past, and he knows if these feelings keep growing, he would regret not talking sooner. 

He remembered when she had arrived at Jackson a year and a half ago, being only 25 and having no family, she found it hard adjusting to new people, new faces. After a few months, she settled right in, getting to know Ellie and Dina and helping out on patrols with them every now and then, and having a brotherly-sisterly bond with Tommy. He took her in to his house, she didn’t know anybody and Joel was the first person she had met, feeling he was trustworthy. 

Staring at the dark liquid he swirled it around in circles not noticing you had went looking for him, she stood in the doorway of the front door, her hand on the doorframe. 

“Joel?” Her quiet tone was like music to his ears. Jackson was peaceful, most of the area was asleep, snow covered the ground like a blanket. He jumped a little at her presence, but relaxed realising it who it was. 

“Evenin’.” He says, setting his almost empty mug of coffee on the small wooden table, which was now cold from the length of time he was lost in his thoughts. His voice was rough, feeling exhausted from the lack of rest. 

“Can’t sleep?” She asked, closing the door behind her, keeping quiet as possible not to wake up the nearby neighbours and took a seat beside him. He shook his head at the question. “No.” 

She pulled her jacket closer around her body and crossed her leg over the other. Joel shifted in his seat a little, clearing his throat. She looked over at him, watching the wind go through his soft, silver hair. His heart skipped a beat, feeling her eyes scanning him, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I never said this before but,” She started, moving her hair from her face. “Thank you, for saving my ass again.” He turned his head, looking over at her, he had missed that smile, he had missed her laughter when they would patrol and she’d throw snowballs at him. Seeing her around Jackson, having that friendship with Ellie and Dina, offering to take dangerous patrol areas to keep the town safe. Risking her life multiple times to save others. The sound of her name or the sound of his name being spoken by her, feeling a sense of new-found love and happiness, something he missed experiencing a long time ago. 

“S’alright darlin’.” He gave her a half smile, his hazel eyes filled with fear, and pain, he masked it well and she noticed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the way her eyelashes fluttered, or when her nose would scrunch up when it was cold, or when they would sit by the fireplace while he strummed his guitar. 

“Um, Joel?” She looked at her lap and fiddled with her fingers. He sat up in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs. “Is everything okay? I haven’t .. seen you, for a while.” Her words had a nervous feeling to it. He exhaled heavily. He had to tell her what was going on in his mind, the thought of her blaming herself for his avoidance was already worrying him. He was the only one she trusted with anything, especially from the start. Every night, if she needed his comfort, his in particular, he would be there for her, he’d make coffee for her and sit with her and let her vent to him about anything that bothered her. He never wants her to feel alone, and during that time of knowing her, he fell in love, and he knew he was, he kept it inside, fear of losing her, like he had lost Sarah and Tess. 

“Let’s go inside and talk this out.” He stood up, taking his guitar gently in his hand and the empty mug, guiding her back in the house. The heat from the lit fireplace warmed up the room. Kicking off his shoes, he set the guitar next to the couch, and went to the kitchen to make the coffee, keeping up the tradition. She sat on the couch and patiently waited for him to return, admiring the large bookcases. Sounds of spoons clinking together and the shuffling of his feet across the floor made her smile. 

Joel returned, holding two mugs of hot coffee and placing them on coasters on the small coffee table. Her eyes watched his every move, thanking him for the drink, smiling to herself, he remembered to put some cinnamon in her drink, that being her favourite. The curtains were shut and there was silence between the both of them, the fire was the only sound in the room. She sat cross-legged and turned her body to face his, holding the mug in her hands tightly warming up her cold fingertips, waiting for him to explain.

He sat there for a while, figuring out how to explain his behaviour to her, the guilt inside of him eating him away. A sad expression washed across his face. She frowned and looked down at her drink. 

He set his mug on the coaster again, letting out a sigh and looking over at her. He felt her eyes burning into him, as if they were looking into his soul. “That day, when the infected attacked you,” He always found it hard expressing his true feelings when it came to people he cared deeply about, afraid that more loss and more pain would return. She listened to him, she really listened, understanding every word he was saying. “watching you struggle and cry, it-, it terrified me. Terrified of what would happen if, I hadn’t stopped it.” A glistened look covered his eyes, he kept his composure, trying to stop himself from breaking down. 

She set her mug beside his, taking in what he had just told her. As he continued, “I’ve had, a great deal of loss, fighting to survive all these years, but, also fighting to protect you,” He rubbed his bearded chin with his hand. “I don’t want those things, out there, to turn you into one of them.” He pointed to the window, gesturing to outside. His thick Texan accent growing deeper, the difficulty expressing this made his stomach flutter. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling touched by his words and realising, she meant more to him than he let on. She was patient with him, knowing he was closed off, always kept to himself, no matter the situation. He was more worried about the feelings and well-being of others than his own. 

“But, why me?” She asked softly, he knew she appreciated everything he’s done and still doing for her and for her safety. Her actions of being there for him when he needed her was enough proof. Actions speak louder than words. His brows furrowed at her question. Keeping her eyes down, away from looking into his eyes. 

“You go through near-death experiences when it’s us together, you’ve slain multiple clickers and bloaters, you’re so hell-bent on keeping me as close as possible to you. There are other people who need more protection than I do.” She felt guilty for causing him to put himself through horrible situations, feeling like she was forcing him to look after her. “I just, feel like a burden.” She bit her lip, worried at his response. 

“Look at me,” He whispered in a raspy tone. When she refused to look into his eyes, he spoke once again. “Darlin’.” That little pet name was a little secret that only they knew about. He reached over, tucking hair behind her ear and turning her face to look at him, a hand resting on her cheek. His large, warm, rough hands felt like a security blanket to her. All the anxiety and stress he felt, washed away when his skin came into contact with hers. 

“You ain’t ever been a burden.” His eyes stared into hers, all he ever wanted to do was love her, make her feel special. His body shifted position. She had no trouble opening up to him in the past, he knew her like the back of his hand, he knew about her family, her childhood, the trauma she experienced, he felt deeply connected with her, they both had experienced loss. 

There have been times where he’s had thoughts of making love to her, just to hold her close to his body, being as gentle as possible. The dream of pushing her against the wall, both their hands hungrily grabbing at each others clothes to tear them away. Her pushing him closer to press his hard-on against her core, to feel how much he wanted her. Grabbing at her thighs as she’d grind herself against him, her soaked panties staining his jeans. Curiosity being a main factor, wishing to know what she tasted like and what he tasted like between the sheets. To graze his lips across her skin, to feel her body tense up underneath him when hitting her high, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed in and out of her. He longed to hear her soft moans, her calling his name as he made her his own, tangling fingers through her hair. He never wanted to let her go. She had never laid with a man before, as she had told him subtly in the past. She had been having those thoughts and feelings towards him just as much as he did. Her having no experience with sex in general speak, in her mind, she knew exactly what she would do. 

He took her face in his hands, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, he didn’t like feeling vulnerable, but it was overpowering, he wanted to kiss her, right there, right now. She slowly moved her position and kneeled in front of him, his hands sticking to her like glue. She moved little bit closer. 

“You promise?” She whispered, his skin covered in goosebumps, feeling the closeness of their faces just inches apart. Her lips hovering over his. 

“Yes.” He replied. She was now in a crawling position, her hands finding their way into his lap then moving them to his grey t-shirt, running her hands up his chest and finally resting them on his shoulders. His breath was shaky, waiting for it to finally happen. 

And there it was, his lips brushed against hers, his facial hair tickling her mouth. It was slow and innocent at first, his body tensed but relaxed, both getting used to what was happening in the moment. He pulled back for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed at the sudden urge. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips. Licking his own, wanting to taste her fully, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her body weight on his chest, his arms snaked their way around her waist, holding her tight, worried if he let go, she would disappear. She let out a slight giggle, leaving him with a comforted feeling that she wasn’t rejecting him. 

“Kiss me again, cowboy.” The use of the word ‘cowboy’ surged through his veins, kissing her once again, his tongue diving in taking dominance. His grunts and her moans against the kiss was too much to bare. Feeling beads of sweat on his forehead and her heavy panting, he pulled back and looked once again in her eyes. 

“Take me.” She ran her fingers across his lips, his mouth curving at the side with a smile. 

“You sure?” His fingers ran up and down her sides. 

“Show me what you’ve got.” Replying as she kissed the corner of his mouth. 

That burning feeling of lust, desire and attraction possessed them. Feeling a sense of love in his heart, he felt whole. 

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

"Rings" - Din Djarin x female!reader

(GIF by Me ... this was a hassle to create, I tell you guys)

Summary: You give something up that is very important to you to save Din's life.

Warning: injury/blood, a bit of violence, near-death experience, death of someone close to the reader (only mentioned)

Disclaimer: I normally try to give the reader as little backstory as possible but that wasn't an option here. So, please just roll with it.

Category: angst/fluff

Words: about 8.000

Note: Today’s my birthday (it’s already the 30th December where I live) so, have this piece of my writing as a sort of present from me to you! I must say I’m very proud to have finished this before the end of 2020. Letting you decide what I should write next and just reading your interest in my ideas definitely motivated me to write. So, thank you! <3 Note 2: I hope y’all enjoy it, I was a bit nervous because I rewrote a lot of it since it always felt like something wasn’t right or missing. The first draft was 4.000 words and I only wanted to check for any grammar mistakes and … well, you see what happened xD I also wish y’all a (early) happy New Year! I hope 2021 will be better for all of us.

_________________________________    

“Rings” – Din Djarin x fem!reader

You sat on the pilot seat of the Razor Crest, staring outside at the dark void of space speckled with star streaks. Mando was sleeping, the Child too, so you had some time for yourself that you didn't know how to spend efficiently. The autopilot was on and the ship wasn't in the need of any repairs, so you didn't even need to be awake right now but you didn't feel tired enough to fall asleep either. Absentmindedly you twisted one of your rings in your fingers to pass the time. It was a metallic-silver ring that looked like two intertwined ones, nothing engraved into it, no jewels on it, quite uneven. It was an unremarkable ring, a simple ring. Still, from all the rings on your fingers this one meant the most to you. This ring was your go to distraction when you were bored and your comforter.

 "What are you doing?" a modulated voice asked behind you. Flinching you dropped your hands in your lab and spun around in the chair to face the Mandalorian. You furrowed your brows at him to silently scold him. How was he able to move without making a single sound in that metal armor of his? After a while you shrugged your shoulders in answer. "Nothing, really." Turning back around you stared out of the window again with a sigh. "I'm just ... bored." A small smile found its way on your lips as you crossed your arms before your chest and leaned back in the chair, knowing fully well that Mando stood dumbfounded behind you because you were sitting in 'his' seat. Though as long as he wasn't saying anything there was no problem, right? You had to suppress the small snort that would have threatened to spill over your lips otherwise. "Is the Child still sleeping?" you asked instead after a while in which you hadn't heard the Mandalorian move at all. But for all you might know he could have already walked back down or he could stand right behind you. "Yes" he answered shortly, his voice still sounded like he stood in the doorway to the cockpit. So, he hadn't moved. "Good" you retorted before standing up, thinking you had tortured the silent Mandalorian enough, and sat down on one of the co-pilot seats. Mando stood still for a few moments longer before also sitting down in his seat. You two stayed silent after that and after a while you resumed back to twisting the ring between your fingers in boredom.

"Do you ever take those rings off?" His rough voice startled you once more. Perplexed you looked up to see him slightly turned towards you in his chair and just blinked at him a few times. Then you raised one eyebrow at him with a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Do you ever take that helmet off?" you shot back with a grin. You of course knew the answer and Mando knew that too so you didn't expect more than a short huff from him. He let out a snort and shook his head in what you guessed was amusement. Sometimes it was hard to read his body language but you were proud to say that you slowly got better at it. "What do they mean to you?" he tried again. "Awfully chatty today, aren't we?" you teased but you had to note that you were grateful for him seemingly opening up to you more. Mando shrugged in answer. You looked back down at your hands and the many rings adorning them as your smile fell. "Most of them mean nothing" you explained. "I just think they're pretty. I like shiny metal." You shot the man in shiny armor a side glance and a sly grin, trying to fall back into a more carefree attitude. If he understood your teasing he didn't react, though you could swear he had wide eyes underneath that helmet of his. But maybe you were just projecting. After a while he cleared his throat which made you giggle. He had understood it after all.

 "You said most of them, so which do have a meaning to you?" You grew quiet, staring back down at the ring you had twisted in between your fingers until now. The grin vanished from your features and only left a frown behind. Your throat closed up. You have never told anyone about this but some part of you wanted to share this with the Mandalorian you had grown closer to after all these months on the Razor Crest. "It's sentimental and stupid" you began and removed the ring from your finger. You held it over your face and turned it in the dim light. "My father made it." "Is he a blacksmith?" You felt your body stiffen up and slid the ring back on. "He was." The silence was awkward and filled with tension as your eyes hardened in an desperate attempt to hold back the tears. You wanted to tell him this but you refused to cry. You wouldn't cry in front of him. Everyone had lost somebody. "I'm sorry." You shook your head, quickly wiped the wetness round your eyes away so he wouldn't notice and leaned back into the chair, crossing your arms before your chest once more and closed your eyes. "Don't be." You heard the Mandalorian busy himself with switches and buttons after that. Opening one eye you saw him facing away from you, shoulders tense and squared. Another small, and this time more strained, grin formed on your lips. You forced to look more cheerful again. "And as you just saw, I do take them off, tin head." The Mandalorian huffed a short, modulated laugh as you closed your eyes again, twisting the ring, your comforter in between two fingers once more.

  _______________

  "Where is it!?" Your desperate cry echoed through the Razor Crest, alarming the Mandalorian who immediately jumped up from the pilot seat and climbed down the ladder. When he turned to face you, his heart beating painfully against his ribs, he saw you kneeling on the floor, your hair still wet from the shower you had just taken, damping the shirt around the area of your shoulders and neck. He paused, furrowing his brows in confusion. "What are you searching?" he asked perplexed, his heart slowing down again when he realized you or the kid weren't in any danger. "My ring!" you exclaimed panicked. "I took them off to shower and now I can't find the one I- the one my father made." The Mandalorian's gaze followed you as you scanned the floor, worrying that it might have rolled away. With all the boxes standing around it would be impossible to find it if it really had rolled into the clutter of materials. You huffed under your breath. Mando let his eyes trained on you before a delighted squeak caught his attention. Slowly he turned to face the kid who was sitting on his cot, admiring a shiny metal ring in his tiny hands with big, round eyes. You, however, continued to mutter under your breath, cursing yourself and swearing to never take it off again. Only when you heard Mando's chuckle did you pause and stood up to face him. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wide. You had never heard such a soft sound leave his modulator before. He did laugh around you sometimes, that was nothing new, but it only ever was a short snort of a laugh or a dry one. Never such a soft, pure sound of delight. And then it had to be the moment your heart was racing and your hands were shaking in fear of having lost something forever. You furrowed your brows. "What's so funny?" you asked irritated. Thinking about how he would react if he couldn't find a piece of his armor, or his helmet even. You knew it was petty. After all you had only lost a ring and Mando's armor was part of his creed, deep-rooted within his beliefs. You couldn't help feeling slightly angry though.

 The Mandalorian didn't answer and instead tilted his head to his cot, your gaze following his movement. And when you laid eyes on the Child holding your ring, you had to control yourself to not slap your hand against your forehead hard. Instead, you buried your hot face in your hands and groaned. How wasn't this your first instinct? You straightened up and sat down in front of the kid "Kid, give me that please" you demanded nicely with your hand outstretched. The Child tilted his head and looked at you with his big, round eyes in curiosity. "Please" you pressed staring at the ring that hovered dangerously close to the kid's mouth. You could try to snatch it out if his grasp but you didn't want to risk him accentually swallowing it if he refused and defended his newly found treasure. Mando watched you in silence, arms crossed before his chest. He was almost about to speak up, he wanted to remind you that the kid wouldn't give it back so easily. He as well as you knew that because of the small ball from the switch in the cockpit the little one always stole. But before he could even open his mouth the kid let the ring fall into your palm, leaving the Mandalorian in a loss for words. The Child looked at you, his eyes saddened as if to apologize. You slipped the ring back on immediately, staring at your fingers that now all had their respected ring back. Then you squished the Child's cheeks in thanks and he squealed in joy. "I almost had a heart attack" you jokingly said and looked at the still silent Mandalorian as a breathy laugh left your lips. It was this moment did he realize what a strong bond you and the Child had built over those months you had now been on the Razor Crest. And it left him with a feeling he couldn't quite place in any category. Was it joy? Pride? Maybe both, maybe something else. He shook his head, directing his attention back at you as you straightened up with the kid in your arms, an exhausted smile on your lips. "Crisis overcome" you joked, the relief in your voice however was unmistakable.

  _______________

  After that little incident you never took that ring off again. All the other ones weren't that important, you didn't care if the Child grabbed one of them but the ring your father had made was of limits. But you knew that Mando was interested in it, about its story and the importance it had to you. He hadn't told you much about him so you hadn't told him much about you either when he had first approached you with the proposition to you give you a job on the Razor Crest. Back then you didn't really care who he was, you just needed some credits and the Child was cute so that was a plus. You were mostly a mechanic for the ship and the weapons at first but you soon fell for the little one’s charm and became somewhat of a caretaker for him as well. Mando had offered to raise your wage many times since you took on more than he had planned but you always had and always would refuse. You cared for the Child because you wanted to not because you were paid for it. And to be honest, the credits he did gave you for repairs on the ship and looking over the weapons every once in a while, you always ended up spending for the kid or for something that was needed on the ship anyways. So, it really wasn't that much of a job anymore to you and rather ... a strange companionship of sorts. And because of that you decided to offer a deal to the Mandalorian because you also grew more interested in your mysterious travel companion. After months on board, you wanted to finally get to know him more.

 "Since you seem so interested in my ring, I'm going to propose a deal" you proclaimed, straightening up in the co-pilot seat you had sat down earlier. The pilot seat turned to you so Mando could face you more comfortably, his helmet tilted in question. You grinned, proud to be able to at least distinguish the different head tilts he had. "I'm going to answer the questions you have if you tell me something about you in return" you continued after quickly shaking your head to sort your thoughts. You weren't obviously to the way the Mandalorian tensed in his seat, seemingly expecting to have to answer the questions that were burning on your tongue ever since you grew to like him more. So you shook your head at him as an answer to his silent question. "I'm not going to ask you something directly so you can choose what you want to reveal about yourself. I'm satisfied with anything." He nodded, agreeing to your proposition.

 You removed the ring from your finger and grabbed Mando's hand, he stiffened up again immediately. You let out a short chuckle. "Relax" you snorted and placed the ring in his palm. His head shot from his hand to your face in what you knew was shock and confusion. With a toothy grin you shrugged your shoulders. "I know you want to know more about it. You aren't that hard to read after a while" you explained with a grin. "And I know you won't eat it, unlike the Child." That made the Mandalorian laugh in agreement before looking back down at the sliver ring in his palm. The soft sound of his real laughter and not the stifled snorts he would normally only let out made you shiver for some reason. For a while he just stared at the ring in complete silence, obviously not knowing where to start. Then he cleared his throat and tilted his helmet only slightly upwards, almost unnoticeably but you caught it, knowing that he was now looking at you. "You said your father made it?" You nodded but knew he wanted to ask more, however, he seemed unsure of how far he could go so you decided to elaborate a bit more. "Yes, he did. He was mostly an armorer, though" you declared. "That ring was the first and only jewelry he ever crafted which is why it's so bumpy." You let out a short laugh and leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window and only glancing at the Mandalorian from the corner of your eye from time to time.

"He taught me a lot about different kind of weapons which is why I'm so good at repairing them, not so much with creating them from scratch like he was though." You crossed your arms before your chest and bit your lip, just letting yourself think for a moment and trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill again. "Back then I never thought all that knowledge would come in handy. I often complained because I wanted to go out and play with my friends and not look at melted metal all day" you resumed, trying to distract yourself with it. "I never thought I would need the things he taught me to save a Mandalorian's ass." That made Mando laugh once more but this time in protest. "If I recall correctly, I save you much more often" he pointed out. "You recall incorrectly" you teased but knowing the truth in his words. You would never admit it out loud, though, you liked to joke around with him too much.

 "Something else you want to know?" you asked, distracting him from your teasing since he had grown quiet after that. The Mandalorian nodded. "Yes. You don't have to answer if it's too personal or you don't want to but-" he started, seeming conflicted. "How did he die?" You gulped, not having expected that kind of direct question from him. Your gaze returned to the large window, staring at the sparkling void that was space again. "He was killed" you stated, your voice suddenly sounding rather strained. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to carry on. "He got caught in the crossfire of some stupid criminal organizations on my home planet." You saw Mando slowly nod from the corner of your eyes before he stretched out his hand to you for you to take your ring back. You straightened up again and turned to face him, reaching for it. "I'm sorry" the Mandalorian said in a soft, quiet tone. Even fainter than the chuckle you have heard from him before. You froze mid motion before shaking your head and swiftly grabbed the ring, sliding it back on your finger. "As I said once already, don't be. It's been forever ago." You suddenly felt a bang in your chest and a tightness in your heart. It still hurt. And before you could prevent it you let out one sharp sob, clutching the finger with your father's ring on it with your other hand and bend over. You missed him, even after all this time you still missed him more than anything. After that one sob only silent tears dropped down your face but you didn't hear the Mandalorian standing up. Only when you felt his hands on your shoulders did you realize that he was in front of you. Your head snapped up to stare at the black of his visor through your tears. The touch felt soothing and you realized that you craved more. You didn't feel like you were allowed to hug him tough, so you stayed put, lowered your head and tried to calm down under his gaze and touch. When the tears finally ran dry, you nodded to tell him that you were fine and he could sit down again but he didn't move. You glanced up, raising one eyebrow at him in question. He didn't say anything and just stared back from behind his visor. Then he moved his hands from your shoulders to your face, cupping your cheeks. You froze with wide eyes as he wiped away the last traces of your tears. For a few moments you just stared at him, mouth agape but before you could form any words -even though you had no idea what you wanted to say anyway- he moved away and let himself fall stiffly onto the pilot seat. You two just sat there, still facing each other but neither dared to speak up. You were shocked and flustered. And the Mandalorian probably felt the same way. Out of instinct you began to twist the ring in your fingers again. Your mind was blank. Did this really just happen or had you hallucinated all that? You shook your head and cleared your throat. "So, ehm ... what did you decide to share with me?" you asked, changing the topic and distracting yourself from your thoughts. "What secret do you want to expose?" The Mandalorian didn't move or react, probably thinking about what to say, what to reveal or still wondering about what he had done just now. After many moments in which your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear echoing in your ears he finally spoke up, saying one single word.

 "Din."

 Confused you furrowed your brows at him. "Din?" You tested the foreign word on your tongue, weighting it as if you could understand its meaning that way. But you couldn't recall ever hearing it before. You shook your head, signaling him that you didn't understand. "Din Djarin. It's my name." Your eyes widen in surprise, your mouth opened and closed without producing a sound. You didn't expect him to reveal that. "I thought you would tell me something like, I don't know, you secretly like to dance or something like that" you stammered, caught off guard. The Mandalorian laughed. Not a small, soft chuckle but a load, heartfelt laugh that made his shoulders shake as he leaned back into his seat. You joined in, his laughter was too contagious not to, you didn't hear it often enough to not enjoy it.

 "Din..." you tested the word, his name, again after the laughter had died down. A sly grin found its way on your lips, the tears from before already forgotten but the ghost if his touch still lingered. "I wasn't that far of with ‘tin‘ head then." This made the Mandalorian snort. After that the ship grew silent once more and the two of you were staring out the window. After a while you leaned forward to steal a glance at him. "Do you like to dance?" you asked curiously with one raised eyebrow, shattering the silence without a second thought. "Wouldn't you like to know" he teased back, his grin audible by the challenging tone of his voice.

  _______________

  You stood there, the Child tightly pressed against your chest in a protective manner, body frozen, your eyes wide in worry and disbelief. You couldn’t remember how you ended up there, everything had happened so fast. One minute you and Mando stood next to each other near the arena of the dirty rust planet you were on (you had just wanted to get some more food and supplies) and spoke to some guy that had approached you. His eyes had something in them that made your skin crawl and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in uneasiness but you couldn't even open your mouth to share your concerns. The next moment the guy had pressed a button on his wrist band and Mando fell down a hole, ending up inside the arena. You ran to look over the railing to see him standing in the mud in the middle of the stadium that was halfway full with hungry eyes of spectators. Even from the distance you could see the anger radiating from Din by the way his shoulders squared. With an equally as angry glare you turned to the guy. "What do you think you are doing?" you snarled, pressing the kid against you protectively with one hand and grabbing your blaster with your other one, aiming it at the guy's head. "Release him this instant!"

 "If you shoot me" the man growled, pressing another button. "Your friend will be eaten alive." You heard the screeching of a metal gate and when you turned to look at Din again you saw a huge beast had entered the arena. The thing was at least three times larger than a mudhorn and immediately aggressive towards the intruder, towards Din. The beast ran towards him, it didn't even bat an eye when the Mandalorian aimed his fire thrower at the beast’s face. It clawed at him, grabbed him and hurled him across the stadium. Din landed on his back many meters away. Slowly he rose again, probably groaning in pain but you were too far away to hear anything except for the beast’s roars. He was only barely able to dodge another attack of the monster. You turned back to face the guy, your blaster slowly lowered until it was aimed against the floor. "What do you want with him? With us?" you asked, placing your blaster back into its holster on your hip. You needed to figure something out, fast. Or Din would get seriously injured if he wasn't already. "Do you know what a spectacle this will be? Spectators will come weeks after his defeat, hoping to see something equally as thrilling!" You shuddered, wondering what kind of sick planet you once again ended up on. You couldn't believe the audacity that guy had. Trapping a Mandalorian? Did he know what the Mandalorian could do when Din would get his hands on him? You turned to look down at the stadium in concern once more, just able to witness the beast pinning Din down with one of its claws. Any sound he could have made, very cry for help that could have been directed to you was drowned out by the cheers of the audience. Any bleeding injury he might have had was covered by mud, he might have suffered a concussion too by the way the beast had slammed him against the ground but you couldn't do anything and only watch in horror. The Child in your arms grew restless, obviously worried about the Mandalorian, too. You instinctively began to rock him in your arms and shielded his eyes with your body. He shouldn't have to watch this.

 "What do you want?" you questioned, spinning back around. "There is nothing you can give me" the man stated with a disparaging look. "What do you want? I'll give you anything if you just release him!" you yelled, your eyes wide in worry. Your heart beat against your ribs so fast you feared it would spring free any moment. You had never sounded so desperate in your life before. You had never feared so much for Dins' life before. The ringmaster took his time, however, stroking his chin theatrically. Seconds seemed to last for hours as the cheers of the audience echoed in your ears, your eyes tearing up in frustration. "Please!" you pressed, desperately reaching one hand out to the man. His eyes landed on it. "How about those shiny rings on your hands? Shiny metal is rather rare here on this rusty planet" he proposed. You froze, staring down at your outstretched hand. He wanted ... all your rings? "Deal?" he asked just when another roar of the beast shook through your bones. "Deal!" you yelled immediately, anger heating up your eyes. The man nodded and pressed a few buttons. You turned and saw the beast suddenly slumped over, lying unmovingly in the mud. The audience grew silent. Din didn't move. You grabbed the railing, leaning over as your eyes darted over his unmoving for still underneath the beast claw, unable to focus as your heart hammered against your ribs. "Mando!" Your scream echoed through the arena, your blood ran cold. Oh Maker, what if you hesitated for too long? You opened your mouth to scream again when you saw movement. Din freed himself from under the monster’s claw with huge effort. You sighed, your body almost falling completely limp and only help upright by your grip on the railing. You only dared to breathe in when he stood on his legs again. "Time to pay up, girly" the guy demanded as two guards walked up to Din to probably bring him out of the arena. You slowly turned around and gritted your teeth. The sleezy man had stretched out a hand for you to put your rings in it. With your eyes hardening you began to remove the rings from your hands. You heart seemed to break when you slid the last ring from your finger and laid it in the guy's hand. But you didn't hesitate, even though you felt like you just lost a part of yourself. The man nodded satisfied and put them in his pocket.

 "(Y/N)?" You span around when you heard Din's faint voice behind you and immediately ran towards the Mandalorian. You held the wriggling Child against your chest with one hand and put your other one on Din's chest in a small attempt to steady him. "Are you alright?" you asked in a hushed tone, looking him up and down with in worry furrowed brows. You couldn't see any blood, just mud. But that didn't have to mean anything. His ribs could be broken for all you knew. Your eyes landed on his side where his clothes were ribbed. Din winced, answering your question that way. Without another second to waste you stepped to stand beside him and wrapped your free arm around his middle. He didn't even protest and just leaned against your side, as you led him away from the arena and back to the Razor Crest. "Let's get out of here. Fast."

 Back on the Razor Crest you put the Child in his orb, closing it so he wouldn't have to see his adoptive father in that state. When you turned you saw Din slumped against the wall of the ship, his chest heaving. "For the love of- Din, sit down!" you yelped, grabbed his shoulders and pressed him down against the wall so he could still lean against something. He winced again as you ran to get the med kit. You kneeled down in front of him and scanned his body for wounds but you still couldn't see anything with his mud-covered armor in the way. Your eyes focused on the whole in the clothes by his side. "I need to take your armor off" you announced, your voice wavering even with your efforts to suppress it. "Not the he-" Din began but you cut him off. "I know! Maker, I know. Save your energy, please!" You didn't mean to sound so harsh but you were unable to control your voice as you felt the panic rise in your chest. You began to try and take off his armor but your hands were shaking so much you could barely hold onto the pieces. "(Y/N)" Din mumbled and grabbed your hands. You head snapped upwards, you opened your mouth to ask him what he needed when he suddenly slumped forward. "Din?" you asked with wide eyes and shook his hand that was still loosely around your own. "Din!" He didn't react. Cursing and with tears already threatening to spill out your eyes you let go of his hands and instead sneaked two fingers underneath his helmet and to his neck, searching for his pulse. You sighed. It was still there, he was just unconscious. You swallowed the panic down, put your arms underneath his armpits and heaved him away from the wall so you could lay him down on the floor. Not the most comfortable place but the most practical. Then you quickly removed his armor. When he only wore his shirt, pants and helmet you had to force yourself to keep going as you saw the blood had already covered most of his side in a deep red. With no time to lose you opened the med kit, grabbed the scissors and cut open his blood-soaked shirt. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you saw the deep cut going down his side. You couldn't even curse, you just froze. The scissors fell down to the floor with a clutter. You could stitch up wounds and treat smaller injuries but you weren't medically trained for this. You weren't qualified... How were you supposed...?

 The squeak beside you made you jump. Your eyes darted around aimlessly until they finally locked into the Child who was standing next to you. "How did you-?" you were unable to complete the question as the kid walked towards Din. Your eyes widen in realization and you immediately held the Child in your hands to get him closer to Din's wound. He stretched out his tiny hands and closed his eyes in concentration. At first nothing happened, the silence in the Razor Crest was deafening. Then the wound on Din's side finally began to close up and your heart leaped into your throat. The kid whimpered before he went limp after the wound had closed up completely. "Good job, kid" you praised and pressed him against your chest, your voice strained but relieved. You didn't put him in the orb this time and instead in the hammock above Din's bunk. "Get some rest" you whispered and stroker over his head. He would be fine. You furrowed your brows in worry and glanced at Din. You weren't sure about him yet. You patted the little one’s head one more time and then kneeled back down next to the still unconscious Mandalorian. You took a deep breath and began to look for more injuries he might have. But luckily you didn't find any more open wounds, only bruises that would continue to hurt for a few days if not weeks even with the bacta you could put on them. And even though he wasn't in mortal danger anymore, you still had to force yourself to keep going, your hands were still shaking violently.

 After you had treated his bruises and had made sure none of his ribs were broken you somehow managed to get him into his cot where he could find some rest. With a heavy heart you had decided to retreat into the cockpit. You had set a curse and activated the autopilot after that. With a sigh you slumped into the pilot seat. There was nothing left for you to do and even though you felt the tiredness in every fiber of your body you couldn't find any rest. Your hands were still shaking from all the fear and adrenaline and your mind was racing in tight circles. You were still worried even though the kid had healed his otherwise fatal wound and you had done everything else you could have. Absentmindedly you reached for the ring, wanted to twist it in your fingers like so many years prior to get some sense of comfort only to grab nothing. You flinched and stared at your hands in shock. For the first time you really felt the absence of your rings against your skin. You gritted your teeth and tried to blink the tears away. The frustration and anger rose inside your chest as you grabbed your hair, tearing at the roots as sobs tore through your throat.

 You must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time you opened your eyes and moved in the pilot's seat pain shot through your back, making you wince. What even woke you up and why were you in the pilot seat? Confused you let out a groan and stretched your back. "Are you alright?" You spun around in shock. The moment your eyes fell onto him you remembered what had happened. "Din!" your voice was sharp but your face was painted with worry. "I should ask you that. Why are you even up here? You should be resting!" You stood up, looked him over and were about to place your hands on his chest when you froze. With your hands hovering over his chest, you stared up at him. The only armor he was wearing was his helmet still but he had put on another shirt. "I'm fine" he said but immediately let out a wince after that. You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Sit down" you commented and grabbed his arms to carefully direct him to the pilot seat. You let your hands on his arms as your eyes looked him up and down. "What is still hurting?" you asked and directed your gaze back to the visor. "It's fine" he repeated and let out a strained cough. You shot him a glare that made him clear his throat. "It's just the bruises." You bit your lip, holding your breath as you feared you would start crying again. You let go of him and wanted to sit down onto the co-pilot seat to take some deep breaths before heading down to get him some medications. But he caught your hand in his before you could, pulling you back to him. His visor lowered and he stared at your empty hands, not one single ring was adorning your fingers now. He knew what you had done to get him out of that arena and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. "Thank you." You shook your head. "The kid healed you, I... I didn't do much" you explained, patting his gloved hand that was still around yours. "No" he shook his head. "Thank you." You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell down to your hands. You furrowed your brows as you looked at your empty hands in sadness. "You gave them all up?" his voice was quiet, barely a whisper his modulator struggled to pick up. You nodded, eyes hardening. "Yeah? They were just stupid metal anyway, don't worry" you blocked with a shrug of your shoulders. You freed your hands from his. "I'm going to check on the kid and get you some painkillers. Don't move" you warned him with a small and what was supposed to be a playful smile but it turned out more like a strained grimace. Even with the false cheerful tone in your voice, you both knew that you had lied about the rings. The traces your tears had left behind were enough prove for that.

  _______________

  To say you didn't notice the absence of your rings, the absence of one in particular, would have been a lie. Even after weeks you still missed the metallic clank they would make whenever you touched something on the ship. You missed absentmindedly twisting the one ring between two fingers. You felt their absence more heavily than when they had been on your hands. You distracted yourself as far as that was possible. The first days you busied yourself with tending Din's bruises. You had already used all of the bacta on him but you had found some salve that should help against the swelling and pain. After maybe a week he was fit again so you had to find another distraction, which was the kid. And when the kid was asleep you busied yourself with repairs on the ship until you would pass out in your own bed. Din wasn't oblivious to your state and you knew that he felt guilty. After all you had traded them in for him. And even if you told him it was alright, you knew he didn't believe you. He would continue to feel responsible for it no matter what you told him which was stupid because his life meant more to you than some worldly possession. You still missed them but you would always act the same. So, you tried to not show him your gloomy state. But he noticed it anyway. He knew what that ring meant to you after all.

 You laid in your makeshift bed -too tired to busy yourself with any work today- while the kid played by your side with something he had found. You only paid attention halfheartedly, just enough to be able to react should he try to eat it. Din had gone out to the nearest town's market, asking you to stay on the ship with the Child. You didn't put up a fight, nodded and laid down immediately after he had left. The less you had to move the better. But Din had been out almost all day now, it was already getting darker and you began to worry. You wanted to grab your comlink you had placed next to you only to find nothing. Sitting up you scanned the floor, but the squeal of the Child attracted your attention. Slowly you turned to him and stared at the thing in his hands: your comlink. You smiled at him and stretched one hand out. "Can I have that back, please?" The Child stared up at you with his big, dark eyes, tilting his head in curiosity. "You can have it back after I called Din" you added. And if he understood you or not was open to debate but he let the comlink fall into your hand either way. "Thanks, buddy" you said and stroker over his head with a strained smile before booping his nose. He squealed in delight. Chuckling you placed him on your lap and let him play with the fingers of your free hand while activating your comlink with the other. "Mando, come in. Where are you?" you asked. No answer. You waited. You were about to repeat your question when the device sprang to life. "I'm on my way back" was all he said before the comlink in your hand fell silent again. Shrugging your shoulders, you gave it back to the kid, watching him play with it more closely than before.

 You were still sitting on your improvised bed, the Child had fallen asleep in your lap, when the ramp on the side of the ship opened up. Unmoving you watched as Din walked in, the ramp closing up behind him again. He didn’t address you but he seemed strangle energetic as he put the supplies he bought away. You raised one eyebrow at him in question but he didn't look your way. Only when he was finished did he walk up to you, coming to a halt a few inches before you. Tilting your head upwards you just watched him questioningly. "I have something for you" he said and by the sound of his voice you were pretty sure he was smiling. With a puzzled look you furrowed your brows. For you and not the Child? He nodded as if he had heard your silent question. Still confused you stood up, sitting the still sleeping kid down in Din's sleeping pot. "What is it?" you asked intrigued, unable to suppress the childlike wonder shining in your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't speak up and instead just opened up his hand. You froze. "What?" With wide eyes you stared at the small silver ring lying in his palm. A ring that looked like two intertwined ones. Your mouth fell open as your eyes shot up to meet his dark visor. "What is this? It's not the original one, it's far too shiny, unworn and too skillfully made but- what?" you rambled before your eyes fell back down. Hesitantly you reached out, grabbing it with two fingers and inspected it in the artificial light of the Razor Crest. The ring was fairly similar but... "It's ... heavy" you stated. Not necessarily 'heavy' just ... it weighted more than the metal rings you had worn before.

 "It's made out of beskar." Your mouth fell open once again as you stared into the black visor. "I let it be made out of a piece of my armor" he sounded strangely flustered, body stiff and unmoving. You were unable to say anything so you just smiled at him. It was small but grateful, the first real smile after you had traded them in. You realized that this was his way of thanking you for your sacrifice. You couldn't suppress the rolling of your eyes. Then your attention went back to the ring in your palm when you suddenly noticed something engraved into the inside of the ring. "What is that?" you asked him, tilting the ring so he could see it too. He chuckled slightly. "May I?" he asked as he reached for the ring. You nodded. He took the ring to read the words out loud to you. With a puzzled look you just stared at him. "It's a phrase in Mando'a" he added. For some reason you felt your face heat up. He let something engrave in it in his native tongue? "What does it mean?" "It translates to: 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.' It's supposed to be in remembrance..." he didn't finish but he didn't have to, you knew what he meant. You froze, blinking unmovingly up at the Mandalorian. He stretched out one hand, signaling you to put yours inside. When you did that, he pulled you a bit closer to him and placed the ring on the finger where you had always worn the one made by your father. You were stunned and opened your mouth to thank him but he spoke up first. "I know it won't replace the actual ring but I wanted to give you something because I ... I feel responsible." Your face fell as you drew your hand back. "Din!" you scolded him harshly, making the Mandalorian flinch. You would have laughed at that if you weren't so frustrated. "Stop that! It's okay, they were only metal. Even with the sentimental value it was still just an object." The Mandalorian shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head down as if he was embarrassed. With a heavy sigh you stepped closer to him and grabbed both his hands in between yours. "It hurts to have lost something my father had made" you continued, staring unblinkingly into the black of his visor. "But do you really think I would have let you die for it? You mean more to me than some stupid ring!" Without a second thought or any hesitation you wrapped your arms around Din and hugged him tightly. The armor was a bit uncomfortable but that didn't matter to you in that moment. Burying your face into the cold chest plate you furrowed your brows. "Sometimes you're such an idiot" you mumbled into his chest, tightening your clutch on him. The Mandalorian stood there like a rock, frozen in place and probably with wide eyes. Then, very slowly, he wrapped his arms around you too. And in that moment, everything felt worth it. Silent tears dropped down your cheeks. "I thought you would die, Din!" you pressed out between gritted teeth, burying your fingers into the fabric of his cape. "I thought I-" you couldn't continue as a lump formed in your throat.

Din hummed in an attempt to soothe your tears but it only made you sob more. Slowly he pulled you off of him. Your gaze fell to the floor, silent tears still dropping out of your eyes. When you felt his gloved hands cupping your cheeks you let him direct your gaze back onto him. He had bend down a bit, so your faces were almost level. "I don't know why I'm crying" you said helplessly, your eyes darting over his helmet, searching for an anchor. "It's okay, (Y/N)" he whispered. For a few seconds you just looked at each other in silence before he pressed his forehead against yours. The coldness of the beskar made you shiver as you stared at him wide eyed. "I'm fine." You couldn’t hold back the sobs as you cupped his helmet like he cupped your face. Pressing your forehead against his, you closed your eyes. And suddenly you realized that those tears were all the words you didn't say since that day at the arena. All those worries and fears you had felt in the moments you thought he could be dead already. All those pent-up emotions finally broke free. Only now did your brain realized that Din was alright. And when your tears eventually ran dry, did the fear clutching your heart for all those weeks vanish.

  _______________

  Later that night you sat in one of the co-pilot seats again, watching Din closely as he started the ship and left the planets orbit. Or at least you tried to because your eyes often fell back down to your hand, to the ring Din let be made for you. You two didn't talk much after your tears had finally dried out but you didn't have to. Everything that needed to be said had been with that little gesture of his. With a sigh you sank back further into the seat and took the ring of, twisting it in the light to look at the engraved words once more. A soft smile found its way on your lips. "Hey, Din" you spoke up after a long time of silence in the cockpit. The Mandalorian hummed, tilting his helmet in your direction. "I want you to know that you didn't have to do that for me" you said, staring into the darkness of his visor. "I don't blame you, I never have. I would have gotten over it eventually..." "I know" he answered, turning the seat so he could face you fully. "But I wanted to." He fell silent again but because he was still facing you, you suspected he wanted to say more. So, you waited. "Do you like it?" he finally continued after a long pause. "The ring, I mean." Your smile grew as you nodded. You straightened up and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "I love it" you whispered, your eyes filled with honesty and gratitude. "Thank you."

[blueprint-han]

ex.

↪ so many what if’s. who would give you those answers?

— where in you stumble into your ex at a friend’s wedding, and the subsequent conversation leads to new hope blooming in your relationship.

pairing: chan x reader

genre: ex au; angst with a fluffy ending.

⇥ warnings: themes/mentions of break up/make up, mentions of alcohol, please let me know if I miss a warning. please note that i, by no means condone any toxic relationships. this fic here with bang chan and Y/N is NOT an example of a toxic relationship or an implication of bang chan’s actions in real life. please take it as fiction.

word count: 3.3 K

type: one shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Bang Chan, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

↯ note: I decided to merge your request with the prompt because it’s angst and guess who’s the queen of angst? You !! 😌 This was picked up from ex, as you can see and again your url ~vibes~ so uwu hope you enjoy it, this is my first time writing angst tho so please go easy on me. <3 Love you mom <333  ⇥ dawn.☀️

The dance hall’s fairly crowded when you take another shot of your martini, drowning in its essence as you make a desperate attempt to disconnect yourself from your vicinity. You wanna believe you’re drunk, though it’s not true in the slightest — you can still feel, hear, see everything around you clearly — the alcohol’s clearly not having its effect today. You wish, oh so dearly wish it did, because the man standing about two tables away from you really doesn’t deserve the attention you’re giving him right now.

The last thing you’d expected when you entered the hall to attend your friend’s wedding was to stumble right into the one man you’d been trying to avoid for the past two months. At that very moment, you cursed all the odds for making you face the man of your nightmares, the one who broke your heart.

Bang Chan.

Sure enough, just like when he’d dropped the news on you, all the butterflies in your stomach drop dead one by one, gloom and desolation taking over. The mere sight of him is enough to send you into a frenzy of confusion — you feel the flutter in your heart to know that he’s doing okay, but you can also feel that pit of sadness, anger and heartbreak mixed to wash over as one of the most conflicting feelings ever.

“O-oh, hi there, Y/N.” Chan had waved a hand and bowed down, but you shakily nodded your head, not bothering to give him any words of acknowledgement as you stumbled into the hall. How is it that you didn’t notice him until half the wedding was over? How could you forget that he was supposed to attend, because he was the bride’s friend alike? 

Was it wrong that part of you still wished that you could be standing next to him, watching him as he introduced you to his friends, calling you “his girlfriend”?

You wondered what the look on Chan’s face would’ve been when you left his greeting hanging in the cold air like that. Was he broken on the inside too? Or did he simply not care? He’d been the one to end it, after all. He looks smart right now — adorning a luxurious black suit, his brownish hair slicked neatly to the side and parted. The delicate silver chain you’d given him on his birthday is oddly still on his neck — you promise yourself to not think about it much, because you know it’ll give you hope — and hope’s a dangerous feeling, at least for you.

When the music starts blaring through the speakers and the couple start dancing together, you sigh, straightening your posture from where you’re leaning against the shot table. Your friend has the prettiest smile plastered onto her face — it comes naturally to her, you figure, seeming as to how she’s married to the love of her life right now. They both seem lost — almost peaceful — as they stare into each other’s eyes. Soon, more and more couples join, until the whole hall is filled with everyone dancing on their heels, twirling and smiling and dancing gracefully. Everyone except you, of course.

You sigh, fixing the hem of your swan-white dress. Way to go for your mood to be ruined — all because you happened to stumble upon your ex boyfriend, and thoughts consumed you as a whole. Was it so wrong of you to wish that you could go back in time and change his decision? You’d moved on from this — you’d told yourself you’d moved on a month ago. You wiped him out of your memory — all the things that reminded you of him — but what if you’d only patched up the wound, not healed it in the slightest? What if the person who held the key to repair your broken heart was held by a person who you’d let go, and by all means, couldn’t reach out now?

So many what if’s. Who would give you those answers? He surely hadn’t, when all he did was just break it out to you over a meeting at the park that he’d fallen out of love with you. 

You never understood what happened. It just started with the less frequent messages and meet ups, the excuse of always being busy, and that slowly morphed into him ignoring you for days, until one day he broke the news and ended it, on good terms. Or at least you thought so.

You sigh again, asking the bartender to lend you one bottle of the drink — which he does without question — before you walk over to the staircase that seems to lead to the terrace. Away from the risk of your eyes landing on him and your thoughts going all over the place again. If only you could walk away from the pit of emotions in your heart the same way. If only.

When you kick the almost rusted door open, the fresh blast of cold air that hits you makes you sigh in relief. You tuck several strands of hair neatly behind your ear, walking to the edge as you glance at the view. Leaning against the concrete, you let the lights coming from the night cityscape blur your vision, along with the faint, distant echoing of horns coming from the roads fill your ears. It’s a distraction, after all.

You pop open the cork of the bottle, letting the fizz bubble down before pressing your lips against the rim. One gulp, two, you then gaze up at the night sky. Rinse and repeat, until the whole bottle is almost finished. You ignore the void in your heart, filling it with the essence of alcohol and ignoring the feelings bubbling in it right now. 

Chan was like a drug — so addicting and so hard to get rid of once you got into the habit of consuming it regularly. You wanted to reach out and hold onto those memories you shared with him — he was the first person where you let your heart do the talking, and all it took was a look at another person to change lanes, leave you alone in the dust of your crushed heart — only to come to the disappointing note that you’d lost those memories forever. They existed merely in a place you couldn’t reach, couldn’t see, but could only recall. It was pure torture to you, but you’d ignored it all for so long, certainly you could ignore it again.

“Need a refill?”

Your head snaps back in the direction of the voice. A familiar, one soothing voice that now brings pain to your heart, now threatens to bring back the wave of emotions you’d kept at bay. 

Your eyes meet the hazel brown orbs, and not diverting from their strong, fierce gaze; you scoff, turning back around to stare off into the distance. 

Chan frowns, tilting his chin as he tries to soothe the burn from your two reactions. He doesn’t back away though, because now he maybe understands what you felt like when it all fell apart, when he wrote your ending with a shaky hand.

He walks front to where you’re leaning against the concrete, silently drinking out of the glass he holds in his hand.

Should I say something? He thinks. He should, right? When you ended it, you did end on peaceful terms, even though your reaction felt like you were more affected by it. Even after three months, he still feels the warmth that flowed through him whenever he looks at you — you who clearly don’t want to speak to him. He feels crazy now, for wanting to let you go. 

You hadn’t even bothered to curse at him that day — just looked at him with eyes that honestly pierced through his soul, and hurt him more than any of your words could’ve. But maybe that was what he deserved, right?

“Why did you come here?” You ask, swirling the almost empty bottle in your hand. Oddly enough, you don’t feel like walking away, feet frozen in position. You’d ended it on good terms, didn’t you? You’d promised to each other you’d be good friends.

“I noticed you were alone.” The man feels himself say.

“Didn’t you bring your girlfriend along? Isn’t she alone right now?” You counter, taking another sip of your drink. Again, the alcohol is having no effect on you. Why did your tolerance have to be so high when you needed it to be low?

“I-” He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to either side to relieve the tension in his neck. “Broke up with her. About three weeks ago.”

You only chuckle. Somehow, your feelings are strong when he’s away, but when the cause is right in front of you, somehow they fail to make an appearance.

“Did you come here so you could win me back?” You ask, straightening up as you avoid Chan’s firm gaze on you, and his face goes gloomier and gloomier with every statement you spew at him. But then again, who could blame you for being angry? You had every right to.

“No.” He shook his head, fixing his position so his shoulders are about an inch away from yours. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m alright.” You say, softening at the edges at his concerned tone. You don’t know why you’re listening to him and not going back into the hall, but your legs are still frozen in place, something in you, your heart, doesn’t let you move.

Why do you feel like it’s your first time meeting him all over again?

He’s your ex, a part of your life you’re supposed to forget. Instead, you’re here, reminiscing it with the very person who left you in the first place. The situation you’re bound in is so weird — you almost don’t know what to do — but nonetheless, you just stand there, ignoring the slight flutter in your heart — just like the first time again.

“How are you doing?” You give yourself the liberty to ask him that question — just to know how he’s doing. Just another way for you to answer your countless what if’s, another method to try and fill the void in your heart.

Chan sighs, straightening up himself before looking at you. “I missed you.”

At the simple admission, you soften around the edges some more. It was wrong, so wrong that you were giving him to permission to get into your heart again — but what if you never wanted him to leave in the first place? 

Hope — the dangerous feeling — starts resonating through your chest. It’s the tiniest emotion, one you can’t quite sense, but still feel. You can feel yourself grow warm, feel his gaze burn into the side of your face as he awaits a reaction.

“I-I don’t know what to say to that.” You reply, tucking some of your hair behind your ear again, before curling it with your index finger. You don’t look into his eyes yet — you’re not so brave to do so — focusing your bored, almost sad gaze as you count all the lights flashing at you on a skyscraper. Anything to distract you from this feeling.

Chan notices your stare, and sighs again. He’s battling himself too, right now. Should I say it? He thinks.

“I-I’ll be honest and confess to you, okay?” Chan turns to face you properly, while you bite your lip, waiting for his next words. Oddly enough, you feel more nervous now than you felt that day when Chan ended it with you. It’s so weird to feel it all over again.

“I’ve missed you and… I truly regret what I did that day.” He runs his hands through his chocolate brown hair, which seems to look particularly soft today. It reminds you of when you’d casually back hug him when he was working, pecking the back of his neck as you’d comb your fingers through his hair. 

“Chan, no.” You feel your voice crack, the sadness overflowing out of its cup, spreading to all your senses as you close your eyes, letting out a single tear. 

“Y/N…” Chan places his hand on your shoulder. You don’t flinch.

“Y-You l-left me.” You feel your brain cloud over, having no control over yourself as the words start spilling out of your mouth, piercing Chan’s heart bit by bit. “Y-You l-left me when I thought you’d stay… And you left me alone.” You feel his thumb rub against the bare skin of your shoulder, and this time, you stare up, looking straight into his eyes.

“I loved you,” You stammer, inhaling deeply as you take note of Chan’s expression. Surprisingly, he’s crying too. The rims of his eyes are filled with tears, his whole face goes red as he tries not to violently sob. “I love you.” You correct yourself.

“But you left me. You left me when I thought all I had was you and - and, what? Three months later, you tell me you miss me? Is this because your girlfriend broke up with you? You wanna win me back?” You spew, slamming your hand against his chest as you shake in his arms. 

He wordlessly pulls you into his embrace, and you don’t complain — you don’t know if it’s because of your brain being cloudy and your eyes being all itchy from crying, or if it was because you missed his hugs, but you feel yourself clutch onto the material of your shirt as you cry, cry and cry until you feel like your tears don’t remain.

“I’m so sorry…” Is all he can say, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he tries to comfort you.

“I hate you, Chan. I hate you so much.”

Something in him shatters when he hears your words. He wordlessly mouths “Alright.” and doesn’t bother controlling his tears anymore, letting them flow down his cheeks and settle into your hair, not bothering to hold back the sounds of brokenness he makes either.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He pulls away, holding your chin to force your gaze into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, it was so wrong of me. I regret it now, so much.” He curls his lips inwards, and watching him cry is soul-crushing. You should be hating him for leaving you, screaming, crying, but you hate yourself for reaching up to rake through his hair, sliding your hand down to his soft cheek before gently swiping your thumb against it. Wiping off his tears.

“We’ve already forgiven each other, right? It’s okay.” You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Leaving him behind seems hard enough, but seeing him cry in front of you seems impossible. Are you still in love with him?

“I’m still sorry.” He mutters softly, gazing into your eyes as he takes hold of the hand that rests on his cheek. “I was so horrible to not know that I had you beside me all along, and instead I turned my back at you and left you. It was so wrong of me.” he breaks into tears again, and this time, before you can pull him into a hug, he grabs both your hands in his own. Holding them in between each other. 

Yep, you’re still in love with him.

You look at him, absorbing all his features, and suddenly you’re thrown back to the first time he ever asked you out. It seems all too familiar — all too real. You find yourself holding your breath once again, waiting for what he has to say. He rests his forehead against your grasped hands, sighing brokenly as he speaks up.

“I won’t ask you to accept me again, Y/N.” He says as a matter of fact. He understands that the things that happened may not allow you to let him into your heart again. “I won’t ask you to date me either, because I know what I did isn’t that simple to forgive.”

Chan feels so stupid now. You were there for him all the time, yet he left you for someone else. You were beside him to help him when he felt desolated, but somehow he became a cause for your desolation. It shocks, confuses him and makes him seethe in turmoil.

“But,” he begins, holding his breath. “I still want to try. I wanna try being the person I couldn’t be when I was with you. I-I wanna change and win you back, b-but…”

“But?” You ask mindlessly, totally overwhelmed and dazed out by his honest words, the newfound emotion thrums to your chest. It’s love, for sure. But it isn’t that special kind of love, at least not yet.

“But I wanna do that only if you let me. It’s your choice, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen as you try to grasp his words, noticing how his warm hands holding onto yours still, only grow warmer and tighter. 

“I r-really love you Y/N, a lot. And… well, I know you may not be able to make this decision soon. But please, just give it a thought?”

You shake your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you look up into his eyes again. They’re red and puffy by now, but they’re still gorgeous, they still remind you of the time you’d gently kiss over his eyelids whenever he cried like that.

You roll your eyes to the back of your head in deep thought, before tucking your bottom lip under your teeth and nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay…?” He asks, hopeful. You can almost feel his nervousness in the way his palms sweat, but you simply smile.

“We won’t date yet.” You said. “But I’ll allow you into my heart one last time. Don’t break it.”

And at your acceptance, Chan beams, feeling more tears roll down his eyes as he pulls you into a hug. This time, you don’t spare any restraint, wrapping your arms around your waist as you press your cheek against his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Chan keeps mumbling and repeating, to which you only shush him gently, telling him it’s okay and he doesn’t have to thank him.

He still does. You only smile to yourself, and for the first time in three months, you feel somewhat at peace. There’s a long way to go — you have to adapt to this relationship, let your heart join back bit by bit and build each other’s confidence again. But you’re certain you can do it together. This story deserved a happy ending, and you were going to give it one, no matter how hard you’d have to try.

“Hey guys!” You hear someone walk through the door, immediately parting away and clearing your throats. 

“Yes?” The both of you say at the same time, tensing up and then laughing at each other. If Chan’s tears were crushing, Chan’s giggles were truly healing. The way his eyes would scrunch up into the cutest crescents and his dimples would make an appearance always made you want to peck his cheeks. Now wasn’t the time though.

“Dinner’s being served, so Y/F/N told you to come downstairs.” The person at the door says, immediately running downstairs, as if to not interrupt your moment any further.

“Alright.” You laugh, taking Chan’s hands in yours as you intertwine your nimble fingers with his long, slender ones. “Let’s go shall we?” You don’t bother picking up the alcohol bottles, because you’ll be coming back here with your friends later anyways — they can be tended to later.

“Of course,” Chan pulls you along with him, running to the door — both the ones that lead to the diner and the ones that signified your new start.

Curse at me all you want, as long as you let it all out, and we can go back to how we were.

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

[medusinestories]

Onwards to the episode in which we get to see Flint and Silver each having a very bad day (as well as two literal dicks that nobody had asked to see).

Black Sails VII (s1 ep07)

- We open on Pastor Lambrick's sweaty face as he intensely rehearses the Easter sermon and he’s obviously eaten up by what he did with Miranda. His sermon, unsurprisingly, focuses on sin, keeping sin hidden, and the hell that awaits the sinner. Which leads us nicely onto Flint, who’s distracted (by his own sin? by thoughts of Miranda? both?) during a meeting with Eleanor. Eleanor is pissed that Miranda let Richard Guthrie send a message to the Andromache and then waltz into town to close up his business; Flint tries to take the heat off Miranda, once again protecting her (at this point, he may not know the contents of the letter).

- During this meeting, Flint is startled when Silver first speaks up to say that the mob in the street was bad - clearly Silver is a sort of intruder in this meeting. But Eleanor, after Silver reminds her by unsubtly clearing his throat, tells Flint that he’s not to harm Silver because he was instrumental in setting up the Consortium. Silver looks so pleased with himself in these scenes, and Flint quite defeated when he tells Silver to follow him back to their camp. I love it.

- To parallel Flint/Miranda’s Sulky Sex scene from ep4, we have Anne/Rackham’s frustrating/disconnected sex scene. It shows us a few things about them mainly that Anne wants to keep a lot of control over what happens, hence Rackham being tied up (though of course this might also be his kink), her wearing a shirt that covers up most of her body, and the reverse cowgirl position that means that she’s both in control of what happens and completely avoids eye contact. The position reminds us of the Flint/Miranda scene, where Miranda was also on top, but their scene involved more eye contact (yes glaring counts, he’s still intensely focused on Miranda), gentle touching (on Miranda’s side) and her being naked and open to him. Another parallel is that both Flint and Rackham aren’t in the right frame of mind for sex, Flint being angry and Rackham lost in a sea of worries (and probably also somewhat angry/disappointed at Anne for forcing him into the plot to kill their crewmates). The difference between Flint and Rackham is that while Flint doesn’t seem to have any trouble performing, Rackham is miles away and doesn’t even notice that he’s lost his erection - again. Anne is frustrated by this, and apparently knows him well enough that she offers to put something up his arse, but he’s clearly not in the mood, and she leaves in a huff, abandoning him all tied up as a sort of revenge for his performance problems. Whatever the problem is between them isn’t put into words (because Anne can’t yet, for starters), unlike the one between Flint and Miranda. The intimacy between Rackham and Anne, so often described as close partners, seems much more distant to me than the one shown between Flint and Miranda. I’m not sure whether it’s because of anyone’s sexual orientation, or just the fact that they’re fucking but they’ve never discussed the big important things, such as Anne’s identity/feelings/etc.

- In this episode, Dufresne gains a lot of power: with a freshly (and badly) shaved head and a new tattoo, he’s been promoted to Quartermaster on the Walrus in Billy’s place. And very quickly he has a problem to deal with: Randall revealing that Silver stole the page. Gates had actually already told this to Dufresne, as is revealed at the end of the episode, which might explain why Dufresne is relatively calm during the whole conversation, while DeGroot wants Silver and Flint hanged and Howell is surprisingly ruthless: he brings up the idea that it may be better to kill off Randall in order to get to the treasure, if they can’t make sure he’ll keep quiet about Silver being the thief. Dufresne is actually quite kind towards Silver in the scene where he puts Silver’s memory to the test - a test that could result in his death if he fails it and that Silver constantly grumbles against (I love his grumbling!). Basically, at this point Dufresne remains quite a sympathetic character, which will change a lot as the show goes on, especially after Jannes Eiselen had to leave the show (such a sad story, RIP Jannes).

- In the meantime, the Flint and Gates relationship is crumbling. It's sad to see, especially since they're shown sharing chuckles as they talk about Dufresne's appointment in the beginning of the episode. But then Gates brings up the subject of Miranda and demands explanations about the letter Billy found. We're not shown exactly what Flint answers, but it's clear that he's actually trying his best to give him an explanation without incriminating Miranda too badly. The sad thing is that Flint is actually telling the truth: he actually wasn't involved in any betrayal of his crew and and can only guess at Miranda's motivations. But the fact that he's lied time and again in previous situations, including on the Maria Aleyne where he claimed Lord Alfred drew a weapon on him (and Gates secretly verified that this was a lie), and used men as pawns to advance his and Miranda's plans, is now catching up to him. Flint seems truly hurt when Gates accuses him of using the men for his own purposes, and turns spiteful, telling Gates that he should have been "a better father" to Billy and helped him "understand the world he was living in" (suggesting that such a forthright character as Billy can't really survive in a world of pirates who are all ready to stab each other in the back). After that slap in the face, Gates says he's exhausted from Flint and threatens to take it to the crew. Somehow, this pushes Flint to bare all: he tells Gates about his plan to keep a part of the treasure and use it to build up Nassau, depicting himself as a sort of saviour, doing it for the men's good: they'd rather be rich men in a safe place than dead thieves hanging from a noose. Gates sees this as delusions of grandeur, and tells him that while he'll see the Urca plot through, after that they're done. I actually think he sees Flint’s point, since he doesn’t just throw him to the crew, but won’t admit that out loud. The whole of this scene hurts bad, because you can tell that Flint is desperate and sad to be losing his closest ally and friend, and that Gates is hurting from the loss of Billy and exhausted from the toxic relationship he has with Flint, where he's played enabler to his manipulations for years.

- While Flint and Gates’ alliance is breaking, Silver has to forge one with Randall or die. Randall finds out in the beginning of the episode that he’s been voted out of the crew. This is apparently due to DeGroot’s fears that Randall could be a fire hazard, which the crew took disproportionately to heart. Randall is furious with Silver, who smugly tells him that in these situations, a setback often comes with a new or unexpected opportunity. He’s right, but at this point he doesn’t know that he is the opportunity Randall’s going to latch on. Randall reveals that Silver is a thief, and Silver denies it, saying that Randall is both a halfwit and was in a haze of opium when he heard what he thought he heard; he even tries to convince Randall that he was mistaken (this, my friends, is gaslighting). However, by revealing that Silver was the thief, Randall sets a chain of events into motion which could either end with his death (if Howell has his way, since Randall is an inconvenient witness) or Silver’s (if DeGroot tips the balance, not trusting Silver to remember the coordinates and not wanting to sacrifice Randall for nothing). Silver figures out that these are the outcomes, and tries to talk sense into Randall by making a deal with him: he’ll care for Randall and make sure he can stay on the ship. But it’s only when Silver finally admits that he is the thief and that Randall was right, that Randall accepts the deal. Later, Silver realises that Randall might have orchestrated the whole thing: he’s now got Silver to serve him, doesn’t have to take any risks on the ship, and gets to remain with the crew. Silver wonders if Randall is a genius rather than a halfwit (a word thrown about a lot to describe him). And it seems quite obvious, considering what happened, that Randall still has strong survival skills (an amputee with impaired cognitive skills doesn’t stand a chance of survival outside a crew and he must be aware of it), that he still has a good memory and an ability to pick out useful information and that he’s aware enough of what’s going on to be upset by the crew’s rejection and Silver’s attempt to gaslight him. I think it’s important to recognise that Randall is more than a comic relief or a grotesque character: he’s a disabled man who's lost parts of his cognitive ability and is struggling to survive.

- This episode focuses on Vane facing his past. He seeks out the island where he grew up and its master, Albinus. I’d forgotten or never really registered that Albinus was a pirate and that the men who work for him were mostly his crew - and likely slaves (or children, hence Vane?) that he managed to capture/press into service. He’s retired from pirating and set up a system where his men cut down trees for timber all day, without wages. It’s not clear exactly how he holds so much power over these men, although it seems that everyone is terrified of him. He’s extremely strong physically, seems shrewd, speaks rather well, and his tattoos suggest that maybe he’s involved in some kind of ritual (truly religious or just for show?) which would make him all the more scary to superstitious people. Vane is clearly still frightened: he barely makes eye contact and practically stutters when he first tries to make the deal with Albinus, which is that he’ll take some of Albinus’ men as crew and send Albinus part of their earnings as tribute. It says a lot about Albinus that Vane, after years of having run away, is still so scares that he’s willing to pay him a tribute. But he changes his mind as he stares at a boy bearing the same brand as he does: he tries to persuade the men that Nassau is a pace of pleasures rather than hard labour, and confronts Albinus. The fight is brutal and ends with Vane buried naked, just after Albinus tells him that he’s proud of him. But of course Vane wouldn’t be Vane if he didn’t rise from the dead at the last minute and kill Albinus, goaded on by his inner Eleanor voice.

- In the meantime, Mr Scott returns to Eleanor, apologising for what he did, telling her he betrayed her out of love. However he also reminds her of his slave status: technically, he belongs to her. The argument upsets her, and he quite cleverly uses this moment to ask her to free the slaves who were on the Andromache. And it works: by the end of the episode, she’s made arrangements for the men to work on ships and has bought the women’s freedom and found them jobs in her tavern. But Mr Scott has still decided to leave Eleanor to join Hornigold’s crew, to refrain from meddling with Eleanor’s affairs, since he disagrees with her so strongly re: the Urca. Hornigold approached him earlier in the episode, and the introduction to that scene is quite interesting: Hornigold says to Mr Scott “I’ll need to know your secret” and Mr Scott looks startled and frightened. It seems that he’s startled because he’d been giving food to the slaves, but in light of S3, it could be a much greater secret that’s being referred to. Mr Scott is relieved when he realises that Hornigold is simply talking about tolerating Eleanor, who he clearly can’t stand.

- Flint’s bad day continues, of course, with the big confrontation he has with Miranda. He’s furious about the letter (of which he now knows the contents thanks to Gates), telling her that it could have got him killed, or destroyed the plans they’d made and asking her whether she was trying to embarrass him. This sounds so weirdly petty, and yet it also sounds exactly like the kind of argument that would come up in a bickering couple. Miranda answers that she was trying to help him out of that life, because she wants to move on. This is where Miranda utters the famous “there is no life here, there is no joy here, there is no love here”. I noticed that, covered by Flint yelling at her, and distorted because her voice has gone very shrill, Miranda says another line, which sounds like “you used to love, then”. If that really is what she says, it’s extra-extra-extra heartbreaking to hear (if someone wants to check it for me, it’s around 35:40). It’s obvious that Flint and Miranda’s views on life are very different, and I can’t help but think back to the fact that, as a carpenter’s son from the country, Flint has had to struggle all his life to become who he is. So when he says that you can’t get a life without having a war, and Miranda tells him he’s wrong, she’s speaking entirely from the point of view of her privilege. She’s never needed to fight as hard as he has to be happy, because she got extremely lucky in marrying Thomas. And when she says that Thomas would agree with her, I’m certain she’s right. But life has never been like that for Flint, and there’s no way he’ll ever entirely agree with their point of view. Rewatching this scene is tough, btw, because they both have great points, they’re both hurting so much, and there’s so much to take in between the body language, the facial expressions, the tones of voice and the actual words that it’s a whole whirlwind. And it feels very, very real.

- It’s absolutely hilarious to see Rackham get robbed by the whores taking advantage of his lack of knowledge (and research). He should absolutely have done a better job and has no clue how to run a brothel. He’s lucky Max takes things in hand after having heard from Idelle that the girls were taking advantage.

- Then we have the beautiful Drunk Flint scene. Eleanor notices him feeling very sorry for himself after Gates has pretty much broken up with him and he’s still reeling from fighting with by Miranda. I think Flint feels very misunderstood here. He thought that he was doing something good, to save Nassau and avenge Thomas, and doesn’t understand why they can’t see it, why they only see the terrible methods he uses to reach his goals. So he’s full of doubt, clearly wondering if he’s the villain of the story, and puts the question to Eleanor: is their plan worth it? Eleanor is the only person who still believes in him, which leads us to the only scene that I would ever call straight-baiting. Flint hovers near Eleanor, breathing heavily, and a variety of emotions play over her face during this moment of tension, as she seems to think this is leading to a kiss. It does, he gives her a chaste little forehead kiss and leaves. All the elements are in place to make your average viewer start shipping these two. I actually find it hilarious that the ship barely exists in the fandom (though I wasn’t there in the beginning of the fandom and I guess the viewership changed a lot between S1 and S4).

- The scene with Flint and Gates glaring at each other from their respective ships and Parson’s Farewell playing in the background... epic! We know this is the beginning of a big struggle between them, especially since we find out that Gates has pretty much decided that he’ll hand Flint over to the crew once they get the money. But nnnnggh that scene! The ships leaving on their hunt! Awesome and heartbreaking!

[mimsyaf]

TKK3, some thoughts: Suddenly there’s a lot of fic that engages with the absolute batshit crazy house of mirrors that is The Karate Kid Part III, and I’m fascinated. Why? I mean Terry Silver (who is his own trigger warning) is a long, tall drink of water, for sure for sure. And we now know that he’ll be featured in the next season of Cobra Kai, which — yay! bring it! But I think, as aesthetically pleasing as Terry Silver is, as “Batter my heart, three-person’d God” as the gaze is that Daniel casts upon him, there are primarily narrative irritants that are calling forth these pearls of TKK3 writing. As opposed to just thirst.

If TKK3 had not existed, we would have a somewhat straightforward and discouraging character arc on our hands for Daniel LaRusso. From luminous, impetuous, ardent, curious boy he grows into a middle-aged man who has not learned yet how to forgive, who chases wealth and outward status at the expense of wisdom. This man still glimmers with love and passion and temper but now these fires are banked under heavy grey ashes of complacency, pettiness, insecurity and self-satisfaction. And he knows it! He’s aware of all of this on some level! Without TKK3, the narrative arc is that Nothing Gold Can Stay. When you grow up, your heart dies. At least in part, and then Cobra Kai is for Daniel an attempt to rouse himself from his coma, in which Johnny (on the surface the antagonist) is actually a necessary and rousing jolt to awaken him.

But! TKK3 does exist, and is a profoundly weird, fun, flawed piece. Two of the main creatives involved had deep reservations about making it. The writer did not want to write it — he had an entire other script already mapped out in which Mr. Miyagi and Daniel were hanging out in a boat, and Daniel falls asleep and basically dreams the entire plot of Crouching Tiger. Hidden Dragon, inasmuch as it is a Chinese martial arts story, and they fly. And! The protagonist was going to be a girl? But the studio execs said Nyet, we want another story in the formula of TKK, and if you don’t write it we’ll give the script to someone who will, and they will irrevocably fuck up Mr. Miyagi, (and it will probably be unwittingly suuuuper racist) and that will be all your fault. And then presumably they laughed like Terry Silver, HAHAHAHAHA! So the writer had a gun to his head, no, worse, to his beloved character’s head, and I do think he wrote TKK3 through gritted teeth so to speak. Parts of it read like a fuck you to the producers: “you want a bad guy?? Fine, he runs a TOXIC WASTE DISPOSAL COMPANY and wanders around naked and laughing maniacally all the time, is that villainous enough for you??” But because he did truly love Daniel and Mr. Miyagi, he kept threading tender scenes about compassion and found family into the hot and dramatic mess of the script. It’s like if Trois Gnossiennes started playing during a quiet moment in Carmina Burana, like WTF? Oh and also it’s a meditation on trauma and grooming and abuse.

And then Ralph Macchio ALSO had reservations about being involved. He didn’t want to risk spoiling the delight and hope and joie de vivre of the first two movies with an inferior third sequel, and also he was getting rilly old to play a teenager, and wanted to move on. I imagine he felt the flaw in the script and rather than rising above it, at times he sank under it, in part due to his ambivalence. And Thomas Ian Griffith had basically not ever acted before apart from a recurring role on a soap opera, and though he is a thing of beauty and a joy forever in this movie, not everything he’s doing makes sense, as like, acting. Or a coherent character arc. Or human behavior.

So in between the luminous boy Daniel of TKK and TKK2 and the infuriating but deeply lovable man Daniel of Cobra Kai is this utterly flawed work, that dances with questions of trauma and self-betrayal and then ends with a few minutes of soft core torture porn at The All Valley and resolves in about 30 seconds with a rehash of the victory from TKK, but in a way that makes no sense given everything that came before that moment.

And Terry Silver just like, wanders off. Mildly perturbed. And he and Kreese apparently don’t do anything else to Daniel LaRusso for 30-something years. But whatever.

Dreams are the brain’s way of working in emotional problems, and I think the flourishing gardens of Terry Silver-centric fic right now are all of us trying to dream our way to a solution to the problem of Daniel LaRusso, and dealing with some truly nutso source material that doesn’t fit in neatly with the rest of canon. But long live the flaws! My experience is that many artistically unimpeachable works don’t inspire much fiction, as there’s not gaps for us to attempt to bridge with our spider silk.

Sorry this is such a ramble!

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So this is the first fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr, low key kinda scary😄 But this man and his paramour have been on my mind for the longest. This is a self insert fic, but I don’t really use “Y/N”. Hope you enjoy and any feedback would be great!

Summary: You are an assassin hired by Tyrion to act as extra security alongside Bronn. He brings you back to King’s Landing just as the boy king Jeoffry Baratheon plans to marry the cunning Margaery Tyrell. But with all the guests roaming around, you begin to wonder who is a friend and who is a foe. No one makes you wonder more than the famed prince from Dorne and his captivating paramour.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of murder, allusions to sex

—————

You never knew anything in the seven kingdoms could make you feel so small. It wasn’t as if you’d ever let it show. You held your head high, walking alongside Tyrion as both of you entered the great hall of the throne room, Bronn on the opposite side of your employer. The Red Keep was even bigger than you had imagined it to be. The throne room was the tallest room you had ever seen. Against the dark ceiling the columns looked as if they stretched up into the night sky.

Every eye in the palace was on the three of you, and you felt no one’s eyes more than Cersei’s. You held her gaze. A woman who lived in luxury her whole life did not frighten you. She may have influence, but you had experience, strength, freedom, and skill with your bow that you were now acutely aware was strapped to your back. Having the protection of Tyrion’s influence and connections and Bronn’s strength and skill with a sword brought a sense of comfort, allowing you to remain calm under such scrutinizing gaze.

“Brother.” Cersei greeted with a soft smile that failed to hide all the vileness in her heart. “You come with friends.”

“Oh no, more like bodyguards. We have so many enemies now a days sister, I like to know I’m protected.” Tyrion smirked, leaving Bronn chuckling. You, on the other hand, would not let your intimidating demeanor fade, remaining as stoic and unyielding as the stone columns that held up the palace you wished to see fall. “May I introduce Bronn, Lord of Highgarden and-“

“Yes, I know all about the Silver Hawk from the North. I wonder if you are half as good as they say you are.” She mocked, her tone anything but genuinely curious. “I am told that you can hit your target 200 meters away and steal their breath before they even know what hit them.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was impressed, even if she did look at you as if you were the lowest creature she ever beheld.

“Perhaps I will have an opportunity to display my skills while I am here, your grace.” You’ll see first hand when my arrow is aimed just above your crooked neck.

“Perhaps.” She replied, feigning as much sweetness as a ferrel cat.

The both of you narrowed your eyes at each other. There was no outright exchange of harsh words or petty language, but the furious tension between the two of you was enough to fill the entire hall with uncomfortable silence. You hoped your unyielding gaze scared her. You wondered how many people actually defied her, you wondered how long it would take to get under her skin.

“Yes, well.” Tyrion interrupted, knowing you were bubbling with anger. Cersei was too, and although you allowed her to see your own emotions, it please you a bit to know you could anger her just as easy. You hated Lannisters almost more than anything, but you also knew Cersei’s time would come. She would pay for her crimes, fate would decide her end. You knew that fate had not brought you here to slay the queen regent, as much as you despised her. “As much as I love chatting with you sister, I simply wanted our arrival to be known. We have much unpacking to do and much to discuss.”

“Be careful, little brother.” She warned. “Your guard has little reserve and it seems your little silver hawk has a silver tongue as well. You would be wise to remember that people have been killed for that and less.”

“I’ll be sure to keep very close watch over them.” Tyrion retorted sarcastically before turning on his heal and exiting the great hall. You and Bronn followed, the later unable to contain his amusement.

“I’d say that went well!” He quipped, smiling at both you and your employer.

“She didn’t call to chop off our heads, that is some relief.” Tyrion noted. “But you both must be careful, especially you.” His scrutinizing gaze met yours.

“What? You expected me to just let her try and hold some dominate power over me? Just because she is draped in finest jewels in the seven realms and hides behind the her father’s influence does not mean I will tremble like a child before her.”

Tyrion sighed. “You must, for now, hold your tongue. Your wit does you credit, that’s why I like you, but you must check yourself. My sister is more dangerous than you can imagine. Don’t tremble, but don’t overstep either.” You remembered that Tyrion had been playing the game his whole life, he was basically born into it. He knew his sister better than anyone, and that meant he knew how to get around her better than anyone. You made a note to observe exactly what made Cersei tick, what made her preen under her usually reserved demeanor.

Despite the warm tones of the palace, you felt as though you were walking on ice. One wrong step and you were dead under a frozen tundra. You didn’t like this at all. Tyrion promised your freedom would not be at risk, yet you felt the freedom to speak your mind, the freedom to do as you pleased slip from you more and more. You were being watched here, you weren’t stupid. Every move had to be calculated, every word like honey laced with poison. The faster the boy king could marry, the less people there were for you to worry about. It made you uncomfortable not knowing who was an ally and who was a foe. The one thing you could appreciate about Cersei was that you always knew where you stood with her.

“I will try to remain civil if she approaches me, otherwise I will avoid your sister to the best of my abilities. But she would be wise not to challenge my reserve.” I huffed, earning a laugh from Bronn.

“Your reserve, little hawk, will be undone, whether it be from your words or your arrows.” He teased. You gave him a shove and he stumbled a bit, but not much. The last thing you needed was the oaf calling you “little”.

“The sooner we are out of this horrid place the better.” You huffed.

“I agree,” Tyrion agreed, nodding in understanding, “but don’t hold your breath. There is so much to be done before my nephew’s wedding and I will be relying on both of you to help me. While I am arranging more intimate details with my family, you two will be protecting me, but also doing some side tasks that I will not have time for. Bronn, for the most part you will be either at my side or Shae’s. If the palace discovers her they will use her against me. She can’t be found.”

Shae, Tyrion’s lover of sorts. You had grown close to her on your travels. You were wary at first. Your job was to protect Tyrion, naturally, you were cautious of anyone who might try to hurt him, to get close to him only for information or power. But it was a tough business, out spying a spy, and all your instincts told you to trust Shae. She had not left any of you astray thus far, and though the couple had not named their relationship, you could tell Tyrion and Shae cared immensely for each other. But Tyrion was right, she could be used as a pawn against him, especially if Cersei found out.

There was a sort of kinship between you and Shae. You were both strong, clever women, and she had tended to the few wounds you found yourself with on your travels. She seemed like a sister, and you were grateful for the company and friendship she provided.

“As for our favorite archer, you will be assisting some guests, getting information. I want to know the people attending this wedding, I want to ensure that this wedding goes smoothly. The Tyrell’s are a powerful ally, we cannot lose them.”

You nodded in understanding. Tyrion hired you to protect him, yes, but archery was not your only strength. You could be quiet, and you could listen as well as you could speak. You knew he would ask that of you with all the guests roaming around. You were curious to know what King’s Landing was really like, and even more interested in knowing the people who came here. “Ask it of me and it will be done.”

“Aye.” Bronn agreed.

“You are the most trusted of friends.” Tyrion gave the smallest of smiles. You were hesitant to even be in his service when the lord found you and offered you a job, afraid of losing your freedom. You knew the Lannisters, you knew their foul and power-hungry disposition. Being in their service seemed to you signing your life away. You were surprised to find he did not wish to take such things from you. He hired both you and Bronn to protect him, yes, but he would do the same for you both. You were an odd sort of family, but a family nonetheless. “Get settled and rested for the evening, we’ve had a long journey. We will reconvene later to discuss further plans.”

You nodded and left to your new chamber, one just across from Bronn and down the hall from Tyrion.

The trio was still not aware of the Red Viper slithering about the halls.

——————

Days passed with little to do. You hadn’t seen much of Tyrion. Since your arrival at King’s Landing your employer had become hand to his nephew king and married the pretty Stark girl you later learned was named Sansa. Still, you found ways to spend your time, keeping eyes and ears open for any useful information. You were particularly interested in Joffrey. It was astounding how a little boy could hold so much power, so much evil. You figured he inherited his terror from his mother.

Sansa was an interesting girl as well. Your heart broke for her. She was nothing if not resilient, staying loyal to her betrothed if only to keep herself alive. She was smart, you learned, but not useful when attempting to gather information. She did not deny her loyalty to Joffrey, even to those she liked. You were grateful that Tyrion stepped in to propose to the poor girl, if only to save her from the tyrant king. Both you and Shae kept close eyes on her. She was as smart and clever as Shae and yourself. You had a sneaking suspicion that she could be a close ally, if only your little family could get her away from the palace.

But today was different. Today you left your quarters to explore the palace a bit. You wanted to know what sort of battleground you were working with. It seemed surprising that a palace that was so heavily targeted was so...open. It seemed like light could illuminate any room. Even the gloomy and foreboding throne room could not escape a few beams of sunlight. If you didn’t despise every Lannister crawling about the palace, you had a mind to stay. The palace was only under the allusion of being warm and charming, the people who inhabited it ruined any chance of it being a lovely place. You noticed that the open windows and balconies made perfect outlooks should you need to eliminate a threat with one of your silver arrows.

But for now, the open windows became your place of peace as you ate a bowl of berries, just watching the rest of the sunrise. You saw the sun just barely grace the city with its light before you were called into Tyrion’s chambers. You arrived promptly, Bronn stumbling in a few minutes after you. You rolled your eyes at his lack of punctuality, which only earned you a playful nudge from the Lord of Highgarden.

“Behave you two. I swear I am dealing with children.” Shae huffed, but you could tell behind her sharp features was an air of mischief. Still, you straightened up and diverted your full attention to Tyrion.

“Well, much has happened. Prince Oberyn has arrived in The Capital. I visited him yesterday morning and he made it very clear that he wants to kill any Lannister that he sets his sights on. My father apparently ordered the death of his sister and her children. Our goal, for now, is to keep him happy, to keep him entertained. Bronn, your job will be to appear inconspicuous as you keep a watchful eye over my quarters, make sure no one goes in or out.” He ordered.

Shae huffed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself thank you.” She huffed.

“No one disputes that my dear.” Tyrion chuckled. You remember watching Shae stab a man she did not want for laying a finger on her. “I’m not worried about you. But my sister and my king nephew are very powerful. They will know how to use you against me.” He explained. Shae still was not pleased with the idea, but she relented.

“As for our hawk,” he turned to you and gave you a list with names you did not recognize, “you will present these girls to Prince Oberyn in my place. You will tell him that royal duties as the king’s new hand have prevented me from revisiting him, but you hope he enjoys the whores as a welcoming gift to King’s Landing.”

“Excuse me?!” You snapped your eyes narrowing in on your employer. “I am not a squire whose job is to bring in girls for spoiled princes!”

“Do not think of it as that.” Tyrion poured himself a glass of wine, knowing that he should chose his next words very carefully. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “Consider it a diplomatic mission. Besides, the prince wishes to meet you. The legends of the Silver Hawk have reached so far as Dorne and he is eager to make your acquaintance. This is the perfect opportunity for the both of you.”

You still weren’t pleased. “So I am now to serve as entertainment for the prince of Dorne.” You sighed and shook your head. “I am only staying long enough to bring him the girls, then I’m leaving.”

“Fine,” Tyrion relented. “But you will be cordial to the prince. Don’t be deceived by his charming words, he stabbed one of my cousins for a few unkind, brutish remarks. I don’t want to know what he’ll do when he hears your fire-laced words.” If it weren’t such a serious situation, Tyrion might have been amused to hear you use your wit against a prince, but the prince’s history with the Lannisters was anything but a joke.

“I’m sure she can handle herself. Hawks have talons after all.” Shae teased, but squeezed your arm affectionately. You offered a kind smile, but you still loathed this plan.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Tyrion rubbed his temple like the very thought of you getting into trouble was enough to send him over the edge.

You relented and chuckled a little before placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “I will be on my best behavior, but only because you will worry yourself ill.” You teased. “It can’t be too bad if I just deliver your message and leave. I better get going though. Can’t leave a prince waiting.” You snorted. As if you cared what a prince thought.

————————

Oberyn Martell lied in his temporary bed at the brothel, Ellaria Sand at his right, a blond haired boy on his left. He was the picture of lustful bliss, his golden chest glistened as the small rays of light entered the sinful den. But the prince was quiet deep in thought as he started out into the empty space before them. All the pleasure the brothel had to offer could not break his focus.

“Your thoughts are too loud, my prince.” Ellaria chided as she placed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me.”

Even then, Oberyn still could not break his thoughts of you, but he ran a hand through his paramour’s raven curls in acknowledgment. “I think I found our third partner.”

Next Chapter

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

The Element of Engagement

Okay so this was a request from @grapemartini, and it’s so adorable and perfect!!! Plus Padawan Obi-Wan is just too adorable not to write for, so it makes things even better! I hope you all enjoy it! Gif and characters are not mine.

Description: The reader and Obi-Wan are separated from their masters, and the locals aren’t to happy about the reader’s relationship status

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of consummating a marriage, otherwise I don’t think there is anything. If there is something I missed let me know!

“Now, don’t stray to far from us. This is a planet that you are unfamiliar with, and I don’t want to lose the best Padawan I’ve ever had the honor of training.”

Jaedkha, Y/N’s master, gave a stern yet playful look towards his apprentice. Y/N nodded at him, “Don’t worry, Master. We won’t be going anywhere.” Qui-Gon and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, stood a few feet away. Obi-Wan flashed a smile towards Y/N, and they returned it instantly.

Y/N and Obi-Wan had known each other ever since they were first chosen by their masters to train in the Jedi ways. Jaedkha, a powerful Zabrak, noticed their talents immediately, and knew that Y/N was the one that they wanted to train. Now the two, along with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, were on a mission together.

The relationship between Obi-Wan and Y/N had always been strong, and they always trained together. Now here they are, finally on a high stakes mission that will aid the Jedi Council. As Jaedkha relayed the plan once again to Qui-Gon, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way Obi-Wan’s red and yellow beads reflected in the afternoon sun. Obi-Wan was thinking the same thing about Y/N, who had yellow and white beads weaved into their own Padawan braid.

The mission was simple. Find the women named Drinna, and figure out what information she had on an up and coming Sith Lord. Obi-Wan and Y/N, while still young at the age of nineteen, felt more than ready to take on this mission. As senior Padawans, the day would soon come when their masters removed their braids, and they too would become Jedis.

“Come on, the rendezvous point is this way,” Qui-Gon stated as he motioned for everyone to follow him. The two masters led the way, while Obi-Wan and Y/N lingered behind. The force energy sparked between them, and the excitement they felt inside added to it even more.

“It seems like just the other day we were still studying in a cramped classroom, and now here we are on an actual mission,” Y/N whispered to Obi-Wan excitedly as they walked a few paces behind their masters.

Obi-Wan nodded his head. “I agree completely, and once we become Jedis we will be able to go on missions like this all the time.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. They wanted nothing more than to remain by Obi-Wan’s side for as long as they could, but with the strict rules of the Jedi Council, their relationship had to remain at a friendly level. Still, Y/N couldn’t ignore the love that pulled at their heartstring whenever they were near Obi-Wan.

Coming out of their daydream, Y/N realized that they couldn’t see Jaedkha anymore, or Qui-Gon for that matter. “Kriff,” they muttered harshly. “Our masters have disappeared into the crowd, and I can’t make them out anywhere.”

Obi-Wan tried his best to look through the crowd, but he couldn’t see anything either. “Come on, maybe this alley way will lead to where our masters are going.” Obi-Wan grasped onto Y/N’s hand without thinking twice, and Y/N felt the heat rushing to their cheeks. Then again, it could have been the humid climate of the planet. After leaving the alley, the two discovered that they were in an open market, but Qui-Gon and Jaedkha were still gone.

A smell of vanilla and fruit reached Y/N’s nostrils, and they couldn’t help but pull Obi-Wan in the direction of the smell. “Well, we might as well have a look around until we can find our masters. What harm could it do?”

Obi-Wan swallowed nervously as his eyes darted around the area flooded with people. “I have a bad feeling about this.” Suddenly, Obi-Wan also smelled a delicious aroma, and he too was lured in by it. The two Padawans found themselves at a small shack, the sign read “Barthes Baked Goods”. Inside shelves were lined with sweets, everything from small pies to doughnuts filled with eccentric alien syrups and candies. Y/N wanted to try everything, but settled on a Krishtart, a circular pastry filled with violet and ruby berries.

“This is all we will be needing,” Obi-Wan said with a smile as he approached the register with Y/N close to his side. “How much will it be?”

“It’s on the house, dearie,” the woman behind the counter said as she smiled back. “Consider it a wedding present. Have you two been together long? I can remember the first few weeks I was with my husband, Barthes. It was blissful heaven, and considering how handsome this man is, you will enjoy your time together.” The woman winked at Y/N as she stood in shock.

Obi-Wan was equally flustered. “I’m sorry, miss, but we are not married.”

“How old are you two? You look no older than nineteen, and it is tradition that all women must find a suitable husband and be wed by their nineteenth year of age. You should be ashamed of yourself. Both of you.”

The woman was no longer smiling, and her glare made Y/N’s stomach churn. As great as marriage sounded to Y/N, it went against the code they swore to follow. Plus there was no way that Obi-Wan would every want that, or so Y/N thought. Suddenly, Barthes himself emerged from behind an emerald curtain. “If you rebellious scum don’t leave now, I will be forced to report you to the courts,” he snarled.

Y/N began to panic. Their first mission was supposed to be exciting and helpful to the galaxy, not something that could end with them and Obi-Wan on trial. Then Obi-Wan’s smooth voice divided the tension in the air.

“Well, I wanted this to be a surprise, but I guess the loth-cat is out of the bag.” Obi-Wan pulled a ring from his pocket, the silver gem gleaming in the sunlight. “I promise to stay by your side till the very end, my love. This ring shall be a symbol of my commitment to you.” Obi-Wan slid the ring on to Y/N’s finger, and he placed his own matching ring on his left hand. Y/N felt a single tear glide down their cheek.

Barthes and his wife screamed in delight, and the anger they felt before was gone. Obi-Wan grabbed Y/N’s hand and started for the door. “You come back now anytime,” Barthes called to them, “And be sure to bring your future kids too!”

Obi-Wan and Y/N stepped outside into the sun, and both of them let out a sigh of relief. “That was a close call,” Y/N stated. Obi-Wan agreed, and he looked around the still crowded market. “And our master’s are still not here,” Obi-Wan added.

“That’s not quite true.”

The two Padawans turned, and there was their two masters. Both of them were smiling, and Jaedkha gave a slight wave before speaking. “It seems that you two got into some trouble, and it’s a good thing that Obi-Wan had those rings on hand.”

“I gave them to him before we left,” Qui-Gon said. “I knew that these two would have to learn to think quickly, and what better time to teach them then now.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Now, we must meet up with Drinna. Be sure to stay close to us this time.”

Jaedkha and Qui-Gon led the way, and Y/N and Obi-Wan made sure that they kept pace with them this time around. Y/N looked over at Obi-Wan as they walked. “Listen, I know that this goes against the Jedi code, but some time in the future, I wouldn’t mind marrying you for real.”

Obi-Wan considered this statement for a moment. Would it be worth the risk? What would happen if the other Jedi found out. Then again, it wouldn’t matter, because he would at least have Y/N with him. “I think that sounds wonderful, Y/N.”

Many trials and deaths laid ahead for the two Padawans, but they would at least be able to face them together. No matter how dark things seemed, or how strong of a hold the Sith Lords had in the universe, Obi-Wan wasn’t going to let anything happen to Y/N for as long as he lived.