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aworldforastage · 2 months

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A very subjective recap of my audiodrama journey in 2023 "Year of the Rabbit"

This is entirely based on personal preferences and not at all an objective assessment of quality

If applicable, cast members are listed with the gong first.

"Web Drama/网配" here refers to the free, not-for-profit productions

All AD's are on Mao'er FM (Missevan) unless indicated otherwise.

Favorite Completed Dramas

The Golden Terrance/黄金台 -- (Web Drama/网配)

Jia Xu/贾诩 x Yacejun/雅策君

Three not-for-profit productions of The Golden Terrance launched in 2020, but this is the first and only one to be completed! I'm just so grateful and amazed that so many talented people contributed to make this happen -- all for free! It's not perfect, but it's comparable if not better than for-profit productions at least 90% of the time, and I think it really did this beloved novel justice. Go listen to it!

Famous/In Name Only/有名

Wei Chao/魏超 x Chen Jiaheng/陈家恒

I did not know I needed to hear Lan Wangji's audiodrama VA speak in a southern/canto-style accent, but it has been life-changing.

"Famous" comes with all the bells and whistles you could possibly hope for in a professional, for-profit production. It has eight original songs, tons of little skits and bonus content, wonderful performance and polished post-production. The team brought their own vision to the adaption, leveraging the of creative potential in the audio medium while staying true to the text. If we have to nitpick, I'd say Liang Yu sounds a bit old for a man on the cusp of 30, but Wei Chao's magnetic voice is more than enough to make up for it.

After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine/残疾战神嫁我为妾后

Shi Zekun/史泽鲲 x Liu Sicen/刘思岑

This is the guilty pleasure personal favorite I have been playing on repeat in the background -- a comforting little sugar pie AD. Objectively speaking, this production has noticeable flaws, from built-in plot holes from the source material to uneven performance and mixing of some minor characters' dialogue. However, I really like the sweet, lighthearted story and the lead voice actors' performance, and we got the entire thing in one season!

“Next season please start tomorrow!"

The Sword Named No Way Out/剑名不奈何

Zhao Yi/赵毅 x Chen Zhang Taikang/陈张太康

I'm very conflicted about this one! This is the first time I really understood the charm of Zhao Yi's voice, but I don't like his character (gong/love interest) or the romantic arc. I am intrigued by the twists in the plot, but we still don't know who is the main conflict halfway into the story, because the novel is just written this way. I'm absolutely charmed by the supporting characters, but I suspect their roles will be reduced in the next season to make way for the the main romance. I really can't get into this novel for some reason, so I'm waiting on the AD to satisfy my curiosity.

"Top flower vase of the mainland entertainment industry"/内娱第一花瓶 -- (Web Drama/网配)

Liu Sicen/刘思岑 x Shang Tong/商桐

This free drama has released 3 stunning seasons since 2021. The screenplay and post-production is a little rough in places, but that's nothing to compared to quality and scale of the output -- the first few episodes of the AD convinced me to commit to reading this 900K words long novel! With free Web Dramas, you can't really guarantee or expect anything. It updated fairly consistently since 2021 but lead CV Liu Sicen currently has an insanely busy lineup of paid projects and likely no time for this. I'm very grateful for the seasons we have had, but I still dream of this AD releasing one more season to at least finish the main story -- and end on a happy note after the reconciliation!!!

Onmyōji/阴阳师 -- (on Manbo & others)

Yuan Mingzhe/袁铭喆 & Zhao Chengchen/赵成晨 [No CP]

Ironically, I think this is the series with the smallest chance of getting a second season, despite its star-studded cast, excellent production, and iconic source material. It sounds great, and I love the main voice actors playing something different from their normal dynamic. However, the series struggle to attract a wide audience as a general/non-BL drama. I'm taking comfort in the fact that the source material is a collection of short stories, so it doesn't feel too incomplete at the end of Season 1.

"well, that ... happened"

A lot of the ADs released in 2023 are said to feel like the work off a "production line"/流水线. It does well enough to maybe satisfy the fans of the source material and fans of the voice actors, but there's not much that's special about it to draw you in if you are not already interested, and is far from realizing the full potential of the story and the AD medium. There were a few shows that I had been very emotionally invested in, but ultimately they were a bit underwhelming.

The Demon Venerable’s Wistful Desire/魔尊他念念不忘

Yuan Mingzhe/袁铭喆 x Ma Zhengyang/马正阳

Probably the most well-received drama out of the three here. The source material -- a comedic xianxia transmigration story -- helped it stand out in field a dominated by modern urban dramas. I didn't find the story to be particularly compelling or innovative as a fantasy/xianxia story, but the voice actors gave solid performances.

Flower Vase/花瓶 -- (on Manbo)

Peng Yao/彭尧 x Liu Sicen/刘思岑

Does anyone still remember this show from last year? Flower Vase is an iconic novel in the scum gong/substitute/crematorium sub-genre, and because it's short and relatively old, there are already two complete free Web Dramas (and more incomplete ones). This work is good, but not enough to make most people willing to listen to this story again or really stand out over the free versions. I liked this one mostly because I was (and still am) in a phase about Liu Sicen's voice.

Morbid Attachment/诟病

Wen Sen/文森 x Yuan Mingzhe/袁铭喆

I'm a fan of Zhe-ge and Wen-laoshi to downright unreasonable degrees and even I have nothing to say about this drama except "it finished." Seriously, you have these two on your cast, in an extremely popular story that features a pop star, and we have like two and a half songs, no duet, and not a single song from YMZ. I still put it on when I want to hear their voices, but it definitely didn't deliver on the potential of one of the most popular stories on Changpei.

"not bad but I had higher hopes "

All of these are based of very popular novels that I read and liked but didn't love, and I ended up feeling the same way about the ADs. It's a coincidence that Taikang has leading roles in all of them.

TGCF/Heaven Official's Blessing/天官赐福 Season 1

Chen Zhang Taikang/陈张太康 x Su Shangqing/苏尚卿

Since the AD is based off the new revised version of TGCF that me (and most people) haven't read, it's hard to tell if the show has completely misinterpreted parts of the novel or if it's just new content. I can't truly dissociated TGCF from the unpleasantness of all the fandom drama, which dampens my enthusiasm for it quite a bit. However, I'm happy enough with both the production and the performance in the 2023 release that I listened to it a few times. But at an emotional level, I'm just not as excited as I expect myself to be for a project of this level of fame and quality.

Swallow the Sea/Tunhai/吞海 Season 2

Zheng Xi/郑希 x Chen Zhang Taikang/陈张太康

It took me a while to realize why I was struggling with Swallow the Sea. It's hard to follow mystery/procedural stories if you are only getting 40 minutes of content once every week -- you would have forgotten everything by the time the new episode airs! I never realized before because I got into AD's late enough that a lot of iconic shows (like Modu and Poyun) have been completed and available for binging. Now I think I'll wait until this one finishes all its seasons.

Thrice Married to Salted Fish/三嫁咸鱼 Season 1

Ma Zhengyang/马正阳 x Chen Zhang Taikang/陈张太康

I felt a bit underwhelmed by the novel when I finished it, and I wouldn't have cared for the AD at all if it weren't a collaboration between Ma-laoshi and Taikang. Ironically, I really love the ending theme, which the audience hated so much the studio had to put out a new mix. Maybe this story is just for people with very different tastes?

Everybody's talking about you

I haven't listened to these yet, but I heard so many good things about these three in the past year.

Qiang Jin Jiu/The Ballad of Sword and Wine/将进酒

Yuan Mingzhe/袁铭喆 x Jiang Guangtao/姜广涛

Does this need an explanation? After its surprise return just before Chinese New Year, the newest (free) episode racked up more plays in a few weeks than entire seasons of some ADs. This is what a real superstar looks like!

But personally, I plan to wait until the series finishes first. I waited for almost two years for Season 4 -- I can wait a bit longer for an indulgent binging experiences.

The Selfish Gene/秉性下等

Shun Zi/顺子 x Sun Lulu/孙路路

This drama has the closest thing I have seen to "universal acclaim" in the AD fandom in 2023. It's one of the few 2023 dramas to break through 10 million play count, beating out many productions with bigger IPs and more popular voice actors.

I definitely want to listen to it, but now I want to wait until I'm in the right mood to really enjoy it.

Stealing The Wind But Not The Moon/偷风不偷月 -- ("Voiced drama"/Audiobook, on Ximalaya)

Sang Yuze/桑毓泽 x Yang Chaoran/杨超然

2023 saw a lot of activity in the 有声剧 area. I think of them like audiobooks because they keep most of the narration, but they are still called "dramas" and the actors still put a lot into their character performances.

This production has been received very well, especially compared to the audiodrama that is currently airing on Mao'er. I held back on the AD because of this, even though I have been very excited about a Liu Sicen x Shun Zi collaboration. However, I'm not sure I want to get into a new platform for this, even though it definitely put Ximalaya on my radar.

I'm waiting to see how it goes ....

Some series are off to a strong start, but there's still a long way to the end ...

I Became a God in a Horror Game/我在惊悚游戏里封神 (Season 2/?)

Shun Zi/顺子 x Dao Mei Si Le/倒霉死勒

Season 1 have play counts that can rival TGCF, and Season 2 seems to be starting off strong after arriving at the end of 2023. The hype alone has gotten my interest, but then I realized it would take probably 10 seasons to finish this novel, so I think I'll wait a bit first ...

The Reincarnated Minister/再世权臣 (Season 1/ ?)

six people x Dao Mei Si Le/倒霉死勒 [NP]

I heard the plot of this novel is actually quite good, and I am really impressed with the quality of the free episodes. However, this novel is looooong, and I'm not sure I will enjoy the NP outcome in the end. But if they can keep up the good work for a few more seasons (lol years?), maybe I could be tempted into getting into this.

A Clear and Muddy Loss of Love/泾渭无间 (Season 1/?)

Hao Tian/浩天 x Xu Xia 徐佳琦

Unlike the other two, I followed Season 1 of this one as it released.

GL deserves more love, but I'm not very optimistic about this drama carrying through to a satisfying conclusion in a timely manner. A novel of this length would normally take 4-5 seasons on Mao'er, but its stats are not encouraging. In the final of episode of Season 1, they did that ridiculous montage that rushed through so many things, probably trying to save on costs. I understand GL has a smaller fanbase than BL, but it's still disheartening to see one of its biggest IPs being handled liked this ...

A Special nod to a few web dramas

The amazing labors of love we get to enjoy for free.

"Spoil"/作践 (Web Drama/网配, completed)

Zhao Chengchen/赵成晨 x Gu Chen/顾辰

(2021-2022, 12 episodes + 1 extra). I only listened to the first four episodes, which prompted me to read the novel, but then I found it a bit too dark for me to want to revisit AD. That being said, I am very impressed with the episodes I heard, especially the screenplay. I didn't feel lost at all even before I read the novel. It set up some complex scenes and conflicts very clearly, better than many for-profit dramas imo.

The Golden Terrance/黄金台 (Web Drama/网配, in progress)

Xu Xu Dian Deng/续续点灯 x HolyNight

(2020-- ?, 7 episodes so far) This drama didn't update in all of 2023. I lost hope when then other version finished, but then they suddenly came back with a long new episode early in 2024! I think this adaption is a bit more abridged than the one that already finished, but fingers crossed that they finish this!

"Dao Zhan Shan He"/ 刀斩山河 (Web Drama/网配, incomplete)

Shang Tong/商桐 x HolyNight [switch CP/verse]

(2020-2022, 6 eps) The production officially ended, which is a real shame because it was pretty good for the parts it covered. I listened to this because I really liked the novel, and it actually encouraged me start exploring the other Web Series that has been abandoned/incomplete, because the good work of the staff and actors deserve to be appreciated even if they didn't have the resources to finish the story.

The most disappointing ....

Mr. Melancholy Wants to Live a Peaceful Life/忧郁先生想过平静生活

Wen Sen/文森 x Sun Lulu/孙路路

I'm disappointed with this drama, but I sort of understand why it came out this way. The novel plays heavily off dramatic irony to carry its humor and suspense, and that is hard to express in audio -- at least, I don't think there is a well-established formula for it. However, I still think it could have done much better to cover the scenes and action in a straightforward manner.

The Return of Cambrian Period/寒武再临

Guo Haoran/郭浩然 x Ma Zhengyang/马正阳

I can understand why "Mr Melancholy" is hard to adapt, but I really, really don't understand why this straight-forward, plot-driven action adventure has turned out so poorly. The episodes are too short and fragmented to engage listeners. A lot of the dialogue could have been edited during adaptation to make it more natural and smooth. Many scenes use music and sound effects that are very cheesy and dated, which almost sounds like an inside joke about the age of the novel that no one wants that at the expense of quality. It's just a long list of little problems that seem incomprehensible for a production that had the budget to hire an all A-list cast.

"Tan Lian"/贪恋

Wen Sen/文森 x Yuan Mingzhe/袁铭喆

My favorite voice actors tackling an original screenplay! I was so excited, but ....

the story is just not good, to the point I'm wondering how did everyone get through making this AD, because it makes so sense as a narrative! If it's a comedy, maybe everyone can at least get some laugh out of it, but it has be a angsty scum gong story. "Confusing and miserable" just don't make an appealing combo.

Final Thoughts

When I first got into danmei in 2022, I mostly listened to the "backlog" of famous productions, and I was really blown away by the quality and variety. 2023 was the first year of me "following" the current releases, and it was a little disheartening tbh. The industry seems to be a at a turning point, experimenting with new people, genres and formats, with varying results. Maybe it will work out better in 2024.

#danmei faves #danmei audiodrama #audio fandom hours

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aworldofyou · 2 years

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The only thing I would change about Dragon Age Origins canon is the fact that I would add one more confrontation. Leliana would be upset at Wynne for advising the Hero to break up with her to avoid the heartbreak, or rather, urges the Hero to take responsibility when it comes to saving the world or a loved one.

Granted this is the one thing that both Morrigan and Wynne agree on, and they’re both right about this. But Leliana - wouldn’t take it well. And would actually go so far as to slightly confront Wynne with a sharp tone along the lines of ‘I respect you but this wasn’t your place.’ and ‘you had no right to do that.’ when the Hero tries to break up with her and she finds out who orchastrated it.

(And remember, if Wynne prompts it and you do try to break up with her, she will not let you do it if you confess the real reason why, which is interesting )

I wanted to see this confrontation.

#[ leliana / dyn: wynne ] there are people with certain dignity and grace. It draws you to them. No matter who you are or who they are.#[ leliana ] I've found peace in knowing the maker and nothing will change that.#[ leliana / ch. study ] one small life in exchange for a second chance at history? I always loved a bargain.#[ leliana / v: dragon age origins ] it was as though the maker stretched out his hand to say even in the midst of darkness there is hope.#[ leliana / v: dragon age origins ] i felt the maker's presence grow cold; one moment a cherished child; the next.. abandoned

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khruseos · 4 years

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Tag drop: Ezio Auditore

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khruseosold · 5 years

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Tag drop: Ezio Auditore.

#[ ezio auditore / threads. ] clarity is why i have come so far. that i may better understand the purpose of our fight. and my place in it.#[ ezio auditore / answered ic. ] they taught me to look past my instincts. they never preached answers. but guided me to learn from myself.#[ ezio auditore / answered etc. ] clarity is why i have come so far. so i may better understand the purpose of our fight and my place in it.#[ ezio auditore / visage. ] wanting something does not make it your right. a true leader empowers the people he rules.#[ ezio auditore / roger craig smith. ] bad dresser. shorts and shirt. that's my uniform.#[ ezio auditore / aesthetic. ] we are free to follow our own path. it is our ability to choose what you tihnk is true. that makes us human.#[ ezio auditore / study. ] i disagree niccolo. surely our belief in humanity rests at the heart of the assassin's creed.#[ ezio auditore / meta. ] what is a man but the sum of his memories? we are the stories we live. the tales we tell ourselves.#[ ezio auditore / sound. ] i am a tactless minstrel. i sing off key for coins. if you spot me in the street. please kick me in the loins.#[ ezio auditore / brotherhood. ] a place is not the brotherhood. wherever we draw breath and make a stand. that is the brotherhood.#[ ezio auditore / auditore. ] to the auditore that reads this. remember that you are not a nobleman. you are one of the people.#[ ezio auditore / templars. ] they say there is no absolute truth. or if there is we are hopelessly underequipped to recognize it.#[ ezio auditore / of eden. ] all of her kind died many years ago. i wish I could show you the magic she performed.#[ ezio auditore / de' medici. ] so began a long and prosperous relationship between two families. yours and mine.#[ ezio auditore / earth. ] and love most especially. for the vast and wonderful world that gave us life. and keeps us guessing.#[ ezio auditore / dyn: cristina. ] i wasn't ready! i was planning on being really charming and funny. can i just have a second chance?#[ ezio auditore / dyn: sofia. ] forgive me. it is a joy to see someone with a passion so personal and noble. it is inspiring.#[ ezio auditore / dyn: caterina. ] that woman is as powerful and dangerous as she is young and beautiful. / sembra come una donne per me.#[ ezio auditore / dyn: rosa. ] hey i remember you. you never did apologize for knocking me over.#[ ezio auditore / v: acii. ] i do not know who started this conspiracy. but i know who will end it.#[ ezio auditore / v: acb. ] the corruption and the tyranny will burn to the ground. and from the ashes of vengeance. a new roma will rise.#[ ezio auditore / v: acr. ] here at last. i discover a strange truth. that i am only a conduit for a message that eludes my understanding.#[ ezio auditore / v: embers. ] i knew i would not have time to do everything. now i worry that i do not have enough time to do anything.#[ ezio auditore / v: main. ] auditore. remember that you are not a nobleman. you are not one of the deceivers. you are one of the people.#[ ezio auditore / v: asoiaf. ] serpents. lions and eagles. do they not all find their homes within the dark?#tag drop

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

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Stolen Kisses

Prompt: Watching them Sleep Relationships: Jaskier/Aiden - Background Jaskier/Lambert and Lambert/Aiden Rating: M Content Warnings: sexual references but nothing explicit. Summary: A Robin Hood AU starring Jaskier as Robin and Aiden as Guy of Gisborne. Jaskier sneaks into the castle determined to pay Aiden pay, it doesn’t go as planned.

For @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Thanks to @kuripon for Beta-ing and to @officerjennie for sending in the prompt to remind me that I wanted to do this AU.

_______

Jaskier laughed as he ran through the woods, the trees a blur as he scrambled over the leaves and twigs that were covering the ground. Valdo cursed as an arrow came flying at their heads, barely managing to duck in time. The thief stumbled and fell to the ground in a flurry of leaves.

“Come on!” Essi yelled as she dragged Valdo to his feet and then carried on their escape.

It was thrilling, the wind in his air, catching in his cloak so it flew out behind him. Jaskier darted back and forth, right and left, never keeping a straight path, diving behind the trees as he led the Sheriff’s men in a merry chase around the woods. They had no hope of catching the band of thieves. Sherwood Forest was their home and Jaskier’s gang was highly skilled at evading the soldiers. They were even better at relieving them of their purses.

Geralt, Lambert and Eskel would be waiting at the edge of their den, ready to ambush the soldiers if they didn’t manage to escape them in time but Jaskier was leading them in a little circle around the woods, jumping over fallen trees and hiding in nooks and crevices on the forest floor. He glanced around as he ran, his hood falling from his head as he turned. Priscilla had melted into thin air, and Essi and Valdo could just be seen scrambling up a tree out of sight of the inexperienced soldiers.

The bastards were too focused on Jaskier.

“Bloody Sheriff,” Jaskier grumbled. He’d once been Julian Alfred Pankratz, Lord of Lettenhove, but he’d come home from the war to find that the Sheriff had declared he was an outlaw. It had been completely ridiculous, the blasted Prince was poisoning the country and so, Jaskier had been born. A fugitive, running from the law.

Aiden of Dyn Marv was a thorn in Jaskier’s side. He was the Sheriff’s right hand man and so completely focused on taking Jaskier down. The man could hold a grudge better than anyone, just because Jaskier had slept with Lambert and pulled the man to his side…

Well, Jaskier could hardly be blamed.

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier muttered as another arrow narrowly missed his head. His legs were beginning to burn and he still had at least two soldiers on his tail. Grimacing, he pulled his bow from his back. Contrary to common belief, Jaskier didn’t enjoy killing Aiden’s men. There had been enough killing in the war and these men were just trying to make a living, but alas he could not let them find their camp.

He spun around, expertly sliding an arrow into the nock of the bow. He pulled back in one swift movement, the string brushing against his cheek, and then he let go. The arrow soared through the air and easily met its target. The nameless man fell to the ground and Jaskier had already taken aim at the second soldier.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered and released the string.

And then he was alone in the woods.

He sighed, running his gloved hand across his forehead before running back to the camp. The others were already in their den, hidden away by a clever contraption that Lambert had helped to build. Aiden’s coin was covering the table as they counted their loot.

Jaskier winked at Lambert as he flopped into his hammock. “How did we do, gang?”

“Enough to cover the taxes of Lettenhove and the surrounding villages for a couple of weeks. We might even be able to eat this week,” Eskel hummed, tossing a coin in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier caught in and flipped it round in his fingers. “That’s not enough.”

“Jask,” Lambert groaned. “We can’t keep going after Aiden. He’ll punish Lettenhove and you know it.”

Jaskier scoffed. “You’re soft on the man.”

“There’s good in him.”

The rest of the camp fell silent. No one questioned Lambert’s loyalty to their gang, he’d made it very clear when he’d left Aiden that there would be no second chances there, but Lambert was still fond of him, in his own way. It never failed to cause a rift between Lambert and Jaskier. They both adored each other but there was an Aiden shaped gap between them that they never managed to cross.

And that only served to enrage Jaskier more. Aiden had taken everything from him. So he would pay, be it in gold or with his life.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jaskier muttered darkly, his joyful mood from the chase soured. He wanted nothing more than to slip back into the castle and finally end the man that had brought him so much pain. “I’m going out. I’ll be back by the morning.”

He jumped from his hammock and gathered a handful of arrows for his quiver, replenishing what he’d lost on the raid. On the way out he also made sure to pick up his dagger, sliding it into the holster on his thigh. Blood would be spilled tonight. Just as he reached the edge of the camp he felt the cold kiss of steel against his throat.

“Lamb, please,” he sighed, not bothering to turn. “Let me go.”

“You will not kill him, Jask. If you do that then you’re no better than him,” Lambert growled, looking every bit as menacing as he had the day he’d left Aiden behind at the castle. “I will leave.”

“I said let me go,” Jaskier hissed, “and I will promise not to hurt your lover boy.”

Lambert scoffed. “You’re a real bastard sometimes, Jask.”

Jaskier grinned, gently pushing the blade away from his throat. He popped his hood up and winked at Lambert. “Says you, darling.”

“Be safe, or I will bring your dead corpse back to life just to kill you again.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and brushed his lips against Lambert’s cheeks. “You say the sweetest things, dear heart.”

“I’m not kidding, Jaskier.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Jaskier trying to memorise Lambert’s face just in case his mission went wrong. Eventually he cupped Lambert’s cheek and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss.

“Don’t get into trouble whilst I’m gone.”

And with that, Jaskier sprang from the camp and headed back towards Nottingham, the very place he had only just escaped from. He adjusted his bow on his back and sighed, looking at the sky. He would wait until nightfall before slipping into the castle. That would give him some time to distribute the coin from the purse he still had tucked away. There was no point in risking his hard-stolen gold, it would be pointless if it were to fall back into the hands of Aiden and the Sheriff. The villagers were grateful for the coin, they always were, even if there was always some arsehole that threatened to turn Jaskier in, but in the end, gold won.

Jaskier was hiding in the shadows, drifting around the perimeter of the castle walls, by the time the sun had set. He was aiming to slip into Aiden’s chambers unnoticed, eliminating the possibility of unnecessary bloodshed, but it wouldn’t be easy. The guards would know him on sight and he had to be patient.

Patience was not his forte.

He took the dagger from its holster and flipped it a few times in his hands. He caught the blade easily and the rhythmic thud of the hilt in his palm eased his nerves. When he was bored of that he took an arrow from his quiver and inspected his handiwork. They were flawless, of course, but he still liked to check. He took out each one, feeling the brush of the fletching between his fingers. When he ran out of arrows he decided it was late enough and glanced up at the wall above him. There were no signs of the guards, and Jaskier grinned. He pulled a rope from around his waist and attached it firmly to an arrow. Taking aim he released the arrow from the string and it lodged firmly into the brickwork at the top of the wall, just like he hoped it would. Jaskier tugged the end of the rope before starting his ascent into the castle.

The shadows of the castle were a thief’s best friend and Jaskier managed to navigate his way around the castle like a lioness stalking her prey. The thrill of being caught was addictive and he felt like he was on a high the entire time. Geralt would have chided him for being reckless but Geralt wasn’t here right now, none of his merry band of thieves were. It was just Jaskier and Aiden.

The final battle.

Aiden’s chambers were extravagant and familiar. Jaskier’s own bedroom at Lettenhove hadn’t been too dissimilar before he’d been torn from his home. He padded around the room, his curiosity taken over caution and he inspected the knickknacks and furniture, getting to know the man whose life he would soon take.

The bastard was lying on his bed, sound asleep and snoring. Long brown hair fell over his face in a mess, and in the moonlight, Jaskier could see the thin pale scar that ran down his cheek; Jaskier’s handiwork from one of their first scuffles. The usual black leather had been replaced by a black chemise that barely covered the man’s torso. The fabric was rucked up on one side, revealing toned muscles nicely covered in a layer of fat. He was strong. Jaskier swallowed, not knowing where to look. He’d known Aiden was attractive but seeing him like this, so peaceful, so… so handsome.

Jaskier’s hand faltered as he reached for his dagger. It should have been easy. This man was his sworn enemy and Jaskier would never have an opportunity like this again, but Aiden was defenceless, drooling onto his pillow and mumbling in his sleep. There was no difference between this man and the good people that Jaskier had left in the woods.

Jaskier hissed, turning around in a rage, knocking his hood from off his head so he could tug at his hair. “Come on, Jask,” he whispered, decisively pulling the dagger from its sheath and pointing it at the sleeping man.

“There’s good in him,” Lambert’s voice echoed in his end, unable to forget the pleading golden eyes that begged him not to kill this bastard man.

Aiden grumbled and rolled over, hugging his pillow. It was fucking adorable and Jaskier was furious. One job, he’d had one job…

And yet he’d always fallen in love oh so easily. He flitted between lovers like a hummingbird, dandelion seeds floating on the wind. Each of the gang had fallen into Jaskier’s bed at one point or another and no one begrudged him that. It was just who he was… but he’d never imagined he would be attracted to this monster.

They sparred with both swords and words, never getting the better of one another, equally matched and yet on complete opposite sides and Jaskier truly hated him, but was hate really so different from love?

“Fuck!” he whispered through gritted teeth. “You fucking bastard.”

Jaskier launched onto the bed, holding the dagger at Aiden’s throat and straddling the man’s hips. One movement, that’s all it would take, the guards wouldn’t know anything until morning and Jaskier would be long gone. Aiden’s eyes snapped open, a startling green glittering in the silver moonlight. Aiden opened his mouth to yell out but Jaskier was faster, pressing his free hand across Aiden’s lips to muffle his cries. They fought in the bed as Aiden tried to scramble for his own weapon but it was no use, he was pinned down under Jaskier’s hands.

Kill him.

Jaskier still wasn’t sure why he was hesitating or why there was suddenly an all too familiar prickle of heat over his skin, pooling in his core. The breath was still in his enemy’s lungs and Jaskier was weak. He yelped as Aiden bit his hand, pulling back and barely managing to pin Aiden’s hands again before he could reach for his dagger.

“Just get it over with,” Aiden spat, his eyes still burning with rage and determination even at the brink of death.

And Jaskier couldn’t do it.

He shook his head. “Not like this. It’s cowardly.”

Aiden laughed, “You’re even more of an idiot than I thought, Hood.”

“Perhaps,” Jaskier shrugged, releasing Aiden from his grip and the bastard didn’t immediately try to kill him. “But then again, I’m also still alive. Why is that, I wonder?” he cocked his head, chewing at his bottom lip.

Aiden glared up at him, his gaze flicking between Jaskier’s eyes and lips. So, Jaskier wasn’t the only one affected by their sudden proximity. The tension seemed to crackle between them. The room was still dark and neither of them were making any move towards their blades, so Jaskier rolled his hips forward tentatively, never breaking eye contact. Aiden groaned underneath him.

“You bastard,” he hissed.

“Truce?” Jaskier suggested, letting his hands run down Aiden’s chest. “For one night only?”

“Only if you kiss me,” Aiden purred, his voice dropping to a low timbre that made Jaskier shiver in anticipation.

He smirked. “Oh, with pleasure.”

#the witcher #jaskier/aiden #jaskier pankratz #aiden the witcher #robin hood au #wolfie's witcher writing

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Teasing Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Would Include...

Anonymous said:

Hi😊, just wanted to say I'm hooked on your writing it's so good!! And maybe if you're not to busy with other requests could you possibly write a Mandalorian x reader where the reader puts on dyn's helmet and armor while he's asleep and he wakes up to see the reader playfully pretending to be a him like saying "this is the way"

Anonymous said:

i like to imagine the reader lying in bed post-sex with mando with his full armour on after he put it back on and the reader asks "can i ask you something? is it hard to breathe in there?" and he simply answers "no", i know that doesnt sound like the most romantic scenario but the little things like that and small talks with mando just keeps me going you know?

I hope you both are okay with the fact I combined these requests. I thought of a way to incorporate both and...well...you’ll see *wink* this maybe be the steamiest thing I’ve ever written so...be WARNED

Din Djarin is the most serious man you’ve ever met.

Even after you established your relationship; even after he removed his helmet, revealing to you the most intimate parts of himself

You could not get Din Djarin to take a joke.

So, naturally, this meant you would try to make him laugh whenever the chance arose

But he never did

And it was infuriating because Din was unintentionally funny!

He would say things that would make you giggle.

For instance, with The Child, Din began to explore a whole new side to himself.

On longer trips in the Razor Crest, after you finished whatever maintenance, you’d climb up into the cockpit and catch him talking to the Child.

“I don’t know, womp rat.”

The Child would coo or gurgle in some mock reply.

“You think so? Could be dangerous.”

You’d try to stay as quiet as you could, waiting for the right moment to jump in and make a joke

But it never came.

You were too in love and in awe to interrupt the little play conversation.

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to poke fun at Din for talking to the Child.

Partly because you didn’t want to ruin the sweet moments with your teasing

And also because there was something about the Child that made you think he understood Din when he talked to him.

Other things Din did still make you laugh.

Since he wore his helmet most times, his unreadable reactions made serious situations humorous with a small turn of his helmet.

And because Din was so professional, he was rather awkward when dealing with others.

Like on Sorgan!

“You can’t live here anymore.”

His lack of social tact never failed to make you smile.

Even when he didn’t mean to be, Din was funny.

If you did point it out, his unintentional lapse in his stoic nature, he would just brush it off.

“I’m glad I can entertain you.”

“In more way than one,” you’d tease, slipping off his helmet.

His dark eyes were bright at your words and you help but grin.

Your teasing went two ways: humor and seduction.

But it perturbed you that Din could make you laugh, tease you into smiling, but you couldn’t do the same for him.

Not laughing couldn’t be healthy?! Right?

All you wanted was to hear Din laugh.

One morning, when you and Din were still in bed, the need to make him laugh was as overwhelming as the instinct to check on the Child.

You threw your legs out of the cot and started to get up.

“Where are you going?”

Din’s bare hand danced along your lower back.

Careful yet curious fingers skirted under your shirt and tickled your skin.

You stayed on your shared bed for a lingering moment, leaned into his soft touch.

He always had a way of keeping you by his side.

“To check on the kid,” you murmured softly.

Din’s dark eyes were barely open as you spoke.

You turned and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth

“Rest. I’ll be right back.”

A small hum escaped Din’s lips and you took that as a tired submission.

Slowly, careful not to wake him fully, you peeled yourself out of bed and padded over to where the Child slept.

With a small ‘whoosh’ the sliding down opened up and you studied the peaceful expression along the green creatures’ face.

How much trouble could a being this tiny cause?

A lot, apparently.

You and Din had gotten shot at more now than any other time in your lives.

But it was worth it.

After all, it was the Child that brought you and Din together in the first place.

Satisfied that the Child was soundly asleep, you began to pad back over to your shared cot(s) with Din.

As you walked inside, your eyes caught the glint of beskar.

The familiar slope of Din’s helmet held your attention.

A thought entered your mind and a smile spread along your lips.

It was dumb.

It was stupid.

Hell, it could have been crossing a line.

But you knew, somewhere deep in your soul, that it would make Din laugh.

It had to.

You tenderly picked up Din’s helmet as if it were made of Naboo’s stained glass.

It was heavy, but also lighter than you expected it to be.

The weight dispersed when you slipped it on over your bed head.

For a moment, your vision was shrouded.

Then the ‘T’ shaped, macrobinocular viewplate flickered to life.

A limited tactical display fell over your vision in a dull red color.

The crimson tint melded into the colors of the natural world; the stone greys of the Razor Crest and the shade of your skin.

You curled your lips together to keep from laughing at yourself.

You could only imagine how ridiculous you looked with the sleek, Mandalorian helmet perched on your head without any of the accompanying armor applied.

Before you broke into a fit, you peeked around to catch a glimpse of Din in bed.

His soft features were the perfect antithesis of the serious nature that laid within

The very serious nature you longed to see fractured

Even if only for a moment

And that was what you set out to do

You let out a cough, loud enough to stir Din.

On cue, his dark eyes blinked open, just barely.

“This is the way.”

Your voice was deeper, more akin to static from a droid’s voice.

“This is-”

You were cut off by your own laughter.

“The way,” you raised two finger guns and pointed them towards Din. “Fight me.”

Through the red haze, it was hard to tell what Din’s reaction was.

You weren’t used to the altered view; it was all strange to you.

That was strange and so was the new sound that reached your ears.

It was like a humming

Low, like a rumbling engine

But rich, almost bright.

It was a strangely wonderful cacophony of a sound

A sound that brought a smile to your lips as you realized it came from Din.

He was laughing

Finally laughing!

His shoulders were shaking as he moved to sit up in bed.

Sheets around him fell from his bare chest and you couldn’t take it anymore

You lifted the helmet from your head and set it to the side.

Unmuffled by the beskar, Din’s laughter made you swoon.

Smiling, you darted towards the bed and buried yourself next to Din’s side.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest.

He was all warm and soft; the stress and the heat of the day had yet to set in.

You let yourself melt into his touch

Your body turned to putty in his hands.

His fingers tickled and brushed over patches of newly exposed skin, sending shivers through your entire being.

“Is that what I sound like?”

“All the time,” you wheezed through laughter.

A moment after, your back was pressed against the cushion of the cots and Din was all you saw.

He held himself up, waiting above you with his arms on either side of your head.

Ah yes, this was a different form of teasing.

This was the other kind of teasing that Din didn’t know he was good at.

He still smelled of yesterdays work and sweat

His hair was a knotted mess from wearing his helmet and somewhat restless sleep

Yet he looked stunning to you

And, by the Maker, did you look stunning to him.

You lifted a wandering hand up to Din’s scruffy jaw as he looked down at you.

In gentle touches, you brushed your fingers along the column of his throat.

You saw his shoulder and arms tense at your touch.

“I like the way you laugh,” you whispered.

Din grinned.

“Do you?”

You nodded as your fingers trailed down from Din’s throat to his shoulder.

Muscles beneath your touch tensed a second then relaxed.

With your other hand, you reached for his face.

You cupped his jaw and brought his lips close to yours.

“We have to get moving,” Din mumbled.

The chapped flesh on his lips brushed against your own.

A smile spread at the sensation.

“We do,” you tilted your chin up with your teasing tone.

Another low sound, not a laugh, slipped from Din’s lips.

A groan.

“I like the way you sound.”

Din’s wide grin turned to a knowing, closed-lipped smile.

You, finally, closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him.

You melded together perfectly in a warm dance of limbs.

After that, it was hard to tell where you ended and where Din began.

You ‘worked’ together so well, too well maybe.

As you ‘worked’, Din’s serious demeanor returned but not completely.

When you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled, you could feel Din smile against your skin.

It was those little things you noticed; the little things you felt.

Afterward, when you laid out on the cots still trying to still your racing heart, you looked at Din.

He was getting ready to face the day.

Shoulder pauldrons and breastplate on, he moved to the final shin guard.

Even covered in layers of beskar and a body stocking, Din looked amazing.

Silently, Din reached for his helmet.

Before he could put it on, you lifted your hand out to him.

“Wait.”

Din turned and, knowing exactly what you wanted, he brought your hand to his lips.

His lips were still wet from before.

When he leaned down to kiss your forehead, you let out a hum of approval.

Smiling, Din pulled away and placed the helmet on his head.

"Can I ask you something?”

The visor turned to meet your gaze and you knew, in that instant, Din was all business again.

“Of course.”

You smiled cheesily.

“Is it hard to breathe in there?"

Din almost laughs but the sound gets caught in his throat.

He almost says ‘yes’ simply because you’re there, in your shared bed, looking like that and looking at him.

Din almost says ‘yes’ but he knew teasing could be dished out both ways.

“No,” he said curtly.

You couldn’t see the smile hidden beneath his helmet

But you could feel it

And that was all you needed.

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hobiiwan · 4 years

Note

Could I request a super overprotective Mando using every fiber of his being trying (and failing) not to punch a hole in Taro’s face when he flirts with the reader? (Like the reader is a young doctor who stuck along with Mando and baby because they feel like Mando is their dad?)

I, too, would like to punch a hole in toro calican’s face

when din djarin first decided to take you under his wing, he most certainly did not expect to become so fond of you

you remind him of the foundlings, like he had once been

he sees himself in you, and feels a sense of responsibility towards you

now he has 2 kids

you’re gifted in healing, amongst other things, but you’ve got a real knack for bandaging din up whenever he needs it

which is a lot

you always top off the bandaging with a little tap, as if to scold him for getting injured so often

you bring a sense of peace to his life; you’re important to him okaY :’)))

which is why, when toro calican’s eyes linger on you for a second too long while making his proposition, dyn has to find it in himself to stay calm

you’re smart, and you don’t miss the greasy looks toro’s been giving you, as well as the sly comments that you deFinitely don’t appreciate

thankfully, having learnt from the best, you’ve mastered the mandolorian death glare, which you will fully direct at the young ‘bounty hunter’ (he can only dream)

you’ve made din djarin proud :’))

but this young man just can’t seem to grasp the concept of ‘no’

even while toro is presenting his proposition to din, he doesn’t cease in throwing in sly remarks under his breath

who does he think he iS

you find it gross, but keep a dead-set expression as you gag a little

you spare a glance at din, knowing he can’t be enjoying this anymore than you are

and so you shoot him a look, warning him not to do anything that would cause a scene in the cantina

you relax a little when din leads the conversation away from you and into details for the bounty

you wouldn’t be tagging along anyway, that was din’s area of expertise

but you perk up when the senior bounty hunter confirms the deal

frankly, you’re glad the interaction with toro is over because that is not the kind of person you want to be around

you’re all set to leave when toro turns on his heels, and his face is mere inches away from yours

personal space bro

“sweetheart,” he bares his teeth in a grin, one that nearly makes you roll your eyes, “what i wouldn’t do to get you alone in the desert-”

he doesn’t get a chance to see past your disbelieving scoff, because you’re launching your fist straight into his nose

toro stumbles back, nose clutched in hand, gushing blood as curses spew out of his mouth

“listen here, sweetheart,” you snarl, “your business is with the mandalorian.”

you glance up at din, and don’t miss the minuscule nod of his helmet

“you speak one more word to me, i’ll rip that filthy tongue out and feed it to the banthas.”

tossing one last glare at the ‘bounty hunter-to-be’, you exit the cantina with din in tow

“maker knows they have better use for it than you do.”

cue din djarin: proud father moment

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vaire-gwir · 4 years

Text

Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.2

There is a part 2! Is it less trash than part 1? No, I mean I wrote it, what did you expect. I like to believe I know where I’m going with this one, but who am I kidding here.

There are a couple of flashbacks, I tried my best at writing how Lambert finds out about Aiden’s death and what happens after that, a sad dream, just a tiny bit of fluff cause I couldn’t resist, and maybe angst? Again, let me know what you think, if it makes sense or it’s truly just rubbish. Feed my feedback monster please. It’s still very not canon and even more out of characters probably, so sorry.

Maybe I’ll call it ‘I lost a friend, I lost my mind’, still not sure.

Also, English is clearly not my first language, I’m sorry for all the mistakes!

***

He's always dreaming of Aiden lately, and he can still feel the blood on his own hands when he wakes up, it's splattered on his clothes, soaking through the fabric from where he kneels on the ground next to the dead body and it makes him want to scrape and scratch at his skin until the feeling is gone.

Lambert never saw Aiden's body, and part of the guilt he feels fuming inside him every time he thinks of his best friend comes from the fact that he can't stand the thought of his lover dying alone. The medallion came to him later, when he tracked down the Dyn Marv Caravan, worry fraying his nerves into a sickly thin rope ready to snap, cause Aiden was not at any of their usual spots and Lambert had been moving from one village to another asking at every inn but no one had seen the other Witcher since before winter. There was a bitter taste on his tongue every time he left a certain tavern empty-handed, a mixture of disappointment and frustration. By the time he decided to follow the trail of the Caravan the sharp twist in his senses every time another innkeeper or maid sent him on his way without any helpful information had been vexing him so much that he felt almost raw and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He knew something had happened to Aiden. Something always happened to the people he cared about, and most of the time it was his fault.

The Caravan wasn't particularly hard to find, but it still was a challenging decision to go looking for them. He knew the other Cats had no sympathy for him, the rivalry between their schools was older than the Continent itself, and it was no secret that in time they began accepting contracts on humans, turning them into nothing more than highly-skilled assassins and thieves. Aiden was not beyond stealing here and there, of course, but a few times he said he had refused to add more corpses to the baggage he was already carrying, weighing down on whatever was left of his conscience, if Witchers had one at all.

Once, they were settled in the woods south of Temeria, relaxing before walking into town the next morning. They had found this small clearing, easy to defend on all sides in case of a monster making a sudden appearance, and they decided to make camp, both of them wanting to enjoy the quiet of the forest for one more night. They know it didn't mean safety, but it was still better than the villages, with their constant loud dissonance, with too many eyes, and too many people pointing fingers all the time. Being around humans always meant being extra careful, cause people too easily turned against them at the first sign of any inconvenience. Aiden was chatty that night, the calm of the evening keeping the rumble of words from his chest steady, and Lambert will never admit it but he truly enjoys listening to him talking, cause he can just focus on his tone, and that soft voice helps him keep his thoughts under control. It's less messy in his head when Aiden is close, he can simply lay there splayed on a blanket, his head pillowed on Aiden's lap, with the Cat running his magical fingers through his hair and enjoying the moment.

He was telling Lambert about this job he did with one of his brothers, something about lifting a curse on the sister of a bastard mage that tried to trick them, and that's how he slipped into the topic of the other questionable jobs his fellow Witchers were willing to take. He didn't try to deny that he did the same thing as the other Cats for a while, as a Witcher he had to do terrible things, just like the rest of them, and Lambert would never judge him for that. At least Aiden had enough honesty in himself to speak the truth about what he did. Lambert had met so many bastards with the face and the acts of an innocent monk and their hands as dirty and bloody as everyone else, just a bunch of bragging hypocrites, that's what they were.

<<We were made to kill monsters, some of my brothers would argue that death is death, but it's not Wolf, it's not. Cheating, and stealing, and deceiving is one thing, I won't pretend I'm not a horrible person. But when you start killing humans the lines blur out a lot more, it changes you. Usually, in a version of yourself that you eventually learn to hate.>>

<> Lambert opened his eyes to look at the face above him and he met the endless green he adores. Aiden was looking at him with an amused expression, the motion of his fingers through his hair came to a halt, and Lambert whined at the loss.

<<Only sometimes, ah? Well, that's a relief considering you're stuck with me for a good while.>> Aiden leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, his hand now trailing down his face to his chest, resting just above his heart, the slow rhythm reassuring and soothing. Lambert opened his lips the moment he felt Aiden's tongue flicking against them, the taste invading his mouth in the most delicious way. He could just kiss him for hours and never get tired of that. The Cat straightened his back licking his lips, and Lambert brought his hand on top of the one on his chest. He had never been one for affection, but since the Cat walked into his life he tried to steal little kisses and small touches every chance he got.

<<How long is a good while?>>

<<As long as you want. So don't get tired of me just yet, pup.>> Aiden was always beautiful, but bathed in the firelight, with flames dancing in his perfect eyes and his legs stretched out in front of him, leisurely crossed at the ankles, warm and content, he looked like a divine gift. Lambert raised his fingers to trail his profile, slowly caressing the side of his face, almost afraid that if he dared too much that mystical creature would break right before his eyes and vanish forever.

<<You'll get tired of me. I mean, I'm awesome, but I'd get tired of myself too.>> Aiden looked at him right in his eyes, the serious look he had on his face was the one that meant he wasn't fooling around anymore, he was about to say something important. <<Never gonna happen. You're always gold to me.>>

Finding the Caravan was not the smartest decision, just being close to where they made camp meant risking his life, but he didn't care, this was his last resort, fear and concern were bound to kill him anyway if he didn't find Aiden soon, cause when Witchers go missing there's only one place they can be found: death. To directly approach the Caravan alone felt wrong, it went against every instinct he had, he felt exposed, like an easy target. As desperate as he was, he was still not completely stupid, so he lingered at the edge of the clearing for a second too long on purpose to make his presence announced. Lambert had seen other Cat witchers only a handful of times before, and he had never seen the whole Caravan, Aiden thought it was not safe for him to meet them, probably for the very same reason why he never took his Cat to the Wolves den: suspect and rejection were looming too close, no one was interested in risking bloodshed. Meeting on the road was one thing, paths were meant to cross at some point, but going home was an entirely different story, it was a sacred space, and it was too risky to invade that place, a balance too precarious to not be disrupted by refusal, judgment, and misunderstanding

There were six pairs of eyes on him immediately as soon as Lambert stepped forward from the line of the trees. He wasted a few precious seconds realizing his first mistake. A wolf, alone and armed, walking right through the Cat's camp was certainly asking for trouble. The look they gave him had the sole intent of making him feel uncomfortable and unwanted and it worked perfectly. Second mistake, his hand inched closer to his sword as a natural reflex, causing the handful of Witchers scattered around him to instantly reach for their own weapons. Lambert remained still, judging that he could probably take down at least three of them before the others attacked him, when a vaguely familiar figure stepped forward. He took it as a good sign that no arrows or daggers were flying in his direction, if they wanted him gone, he would be bleeding already.

Karadin muttered something along the lines of 'it's fine, I know this one,' and it was enough for his brothers to relax a little. Lambert attempted to stay calm while the other Cat approached him, there was something in his steps that made him look as if he was about to jump him. He didn't like it one bit being here, and as much as he tried to ignore it, hostility was vibrating in the air and running between the whole group like a current. <<I'm looking for Aiden. Not here to kill anyone.>> He said quickly. They had met once before, he had seen Aiden at ease talking to him, and so far he was the only one that didn't seem to want to murder him on the spot. Probably he was just a better liar. <<Figured that already. I remember you. He's gone, I'm sorry.>> His voice had a sharp edge that he tried to mask under practiced neutrality, but it still made him sound like it didn't matter at all to him if the others killed Lambert or not. <<Gone where? I've been....> <<Gone, Wolf. He's dead.>>

It seemed empty when he said it as if he spoke those exact words so many times that they lost their true meaning now, he made it sound as if this was just another annoying thing that happened in their life, and they both should know better than to make a big deal out of it or get attached to another, cause people and especially witchers, die all the time. Easy for him to be this composed, he was not the one whose walls were crumbling.

There was a part of Lambert, the part he refused to listen, that had understood something occurred as soon as he realized Aiden was not in Kaedwen, cause he had no reason to not show up after winter. It was their thing, a sort of ritual they took to perform every season: come spring they would meet again and spend the following days holed up at an inn, barely leaving their bed, completely lost in feeling each other after so long and getting reacquainted with what belonged to them. It took Lambert a day and a half before he started to panic, and after that, his personal version of hell unfurled. For two endless weeks, Lambert had spent every single day searching for him, refusing contracts that he couldn't care enough to take, cause the prospect of a job was not sufficient to fill the hole inside him left by Aiden's disappearance. The voices in his head kept alternating between whispering that the Cat just left him cause he had enough of his sorry ass, and screaming that something happened to him and he wasn't doing anything useful about it. Two weeks made of empty days and cold nights consumed by doubts and fear, passing through another nameless village, threatening mages, picking fights, moving hell and earth to find him, repeating to himself over and over that Aiden couldn't be dead. All he did had been in vain until now, cause now this stranger was standing there and turning the cold suspicion he desperately tried to silence into the bitter truth. Dead. <>

Lambert tried to ask for something else, he really tried to sound coherent but all of a sudden he felt so tired. He also missed most of the words spilling from Karadin's mouth, but he'll have plenty of time to visualize in detail Aiden's death, because now that the crushing rage and grief he tried to keep at bay had washed over him like the waves of the ocean he could barely restrain himself. He felt as if someone was picking at the stitches that held him together and pulling so harshly that his seams were all coming apart at once. Dead. <<You can have this.>> A gloved hand pressed something into his palm, the sound of the leather squeaking in the motion bursting through the fog that settled around his head, and he felt the shape under his fingers. Aiden's medallion. He should pay more attention to the twisting in his guts suggesting that there was something very wrong, like an odd scent of lies in the air, but he didn't, he couldn't. Two Witchers on a contract, one is dead and the other escapes without a single scratch on him, he should figure out that there must be more about this that Karadin was not telling him, yet he ignored that intuition. Third mistake of the day. His mind was miles away, and his body was craving to put as much distance as possible between himself and this place, his heart beating too fast since the word 'dead' had been said out loud. Karadin must sense it, cause he didn't waste time in sending him away. <<Go, it is not wise of you to stay. And Wolf, I'm really sorry.>>

Everything after that was dull and confused, he had a few scattered memories, most of them were nothing more than blinding pain, but he made it as far as the side of the forest before his legs gave out. He felt as if someone sent him stumbling in the darkness, without his potions and his tricks and everything was as gloomy as if all the light had been taken from the world. The next thing he remembered he was drunk out of his mind at an inn and morning found him passed out in a dirty alley, with blood on his clothes that he didn't know who it belonged to, and throbbing pain in his hand but his mind was too hazy to focus on anything right now. His first thought is that he has to find Aiden. It took a moment for the events of the previous day to resurface, but when they did, he was on his knees retching and gasping for breath. He can't go looking for Aiden now, cause his best friend is dead.

He replayed the encounter with the other Cat enough times in his mind to put together the scattered pieces, so now he knows how Aiden died, he knows where and he knows he was not alone. And all these things he knows don't help at all though, cause Lambert wasn't there to see it, to stitch him up as he did countless times before, to try and save him. After all, he'd never let a fucking griffin kill his best friend. Lambert was miles away in his winter keep, safe and sane like the fucking coward he is, dreaming of spring while he repairs old walls because he doesn't know that spring is not coming this year. And yet, all he can see now is Aiden's death. Every night when he closes his eyes the shadows move in his mind, showing him the horror that he never witnessed as if the universe was performing a sick joke on him. There are usually no words or sounds in his visions, and as dreadful as it is, it's still better than when he can hear Aiden's voice.

About a couple of weeks ago his exhausted brain decided to start playing tricks on him, making him see things he's sure are not real, but it's not always easy to tell the difference between reality and dreams when everything is a nightmare. Minds work in a very funny way when faced with unknown suffering, in a funny and cruel way, that's why in these hallucinations Aiden is nothing like the friend he used to know. The thing is, the nightmares are just nightmares. Reality is worse cause he can’t wake up from it. And truth is, Aiden is gone. Lambert has a hard time making sense of the words he hears, so unusual coming from this person he considers his friend, his lover, his. Some bits stick to him, and he remembers those so well it's impossible they are just a product of his subconscious.

<<You should have let me come to Kaer Morhen.>> Lambert's shoulders are hunched, the weight of those words too heavy for him to bear. A few days before going their separate ways Aiden asked him to spend the winter together and he said no. He said he'd stay and that they could find an overly rich lord looking for two extra soldiers, but going to Kaer Morhen was out of the question. He had toyed with the idea of bringing the Cat back home before, the promise of a pleasant and refreshing winter with his lover as tempting as ever. Except that there were two other Wolves at home, and even if they didn't send Aiden away running, Vesemir would kick both of them out before they step through the doors. He couldn't face his family knowing they'd think even less of him for showing up with a Cat. That's why he refused, because he's nothing but a coward, and now Aiden carries the same hurt on his face that he had that night. <> <<And I really don't believe you.>> Aiden spats out angrily at him with blood seeping through the blue fabric of his shirt as he wipes a hand over his face, smearing the red lines dripping down his cheek.

<> <<I'd know it if you were.>> <<It always seemed pointless to do it anyway. No one ever saw me as you did.>> Aiden's laugh is as disturbing as his unseeing eyes, and the way it echoes in the dark makes him ache. Aiden wants to hurt him as much as he had been hurt. And the people that know us best always know how to cause more damage. <<That's an awful amount of words for you.>> The metallic and cold smell of death overpowers everything, there are no more spices or fresh tinges of mint, no sweet undertones of honey, the scent that used to make him think of peace, of happiness and the sea is lost somewhere under the pain. Lambert wants to clutch at that dark shadow that wears the face and the body of his best friend, hold it close to his chest, run a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to find a trace of that happiness but deep down he knows he can't touch. <<I'm...sorry.>> <<What for?>> <<Being a coward.>> <<Something suddenly loosened up your tongue, I see....tough luck wolf, it's too late.>> Lambert feels like choking on the air he was trying to breathe, the harsh truth hits him like a punch. He always thought he had time, time to find the courage to talk to his family, to figure out how to deal with all his sharp edges without lashing out at his lover, to simply be with Aiden and live long enough to defeat the Witcher's curse and outrun their past, and move together somewhere close to the sea where he'd build another boat and finally they could settle down and life would stop being this constant amount of bullshit. But it's too late. <> <<No you don't. You never did. You don't know how. You cared more about what your ridiculous family thought of you than about me.>> <Didn't know how to show it.>> <<You should have figured that one out before leaving.>> Realization sends an unfamiliar drop rolling down his cheek and he doesn't bother brushing it away. It wouldn't hurt this bad if it wasn't true. <<You were everything to me! I can't...I'm sorry I....>> <<Sorry doesn't bring back the dead. Nothing does.>>

Panic settles in his system and it doesn't leave even when he jerks awake, panting as if he had been running for days. His eyes are wide open, unfocused on the forest around him and this time he dries the wet lines on his cheek, the borders between reality and dreams too weak to not be torn apart by pain.

Sadness smells like dust, with a tinge of something smokey and iron, like burning old wood and pouring water over it. The sharp edge of Aiden's words cut like his swords and all he can do is lay on his blanket trying not to suffocate. It doesn't matter that this version of Aiden he keeps conjuring up from the bottomless pit of his guilt continues saying things the real Aiden would never say, cause in the middle of the night, when the weight in his chest becomes unbearably heavy, he's drowning and the dark tide of his thoughts doesn't let him come up for air. It's hard to remember that Aiden was never cruel to him, cause he can barely stop his hands from shaking, and forcing himself to will away the tears is the only thing he can focus on.

Every time he closes his eyes the ghosts crowd behind them, to remind him that he messed up, that he should have been there, he should have done better. As if it wasn't bad enough that he had lost the only person that ever loved him. Maybe that's when it all went wrong, cause there’s no such thing as love for a Witcher, isn't it? There are monsters, coins, and death. It’s a sad life they live and it’s only a matter of time before a beast, an assassin, a mage or an angry mob send them to their grave. They all live with a damn ticking clock on the back of their neck, tick tick ticking away with the number of days they have left, he always thought he had time, but he was wrong. They don't get to retire or move somewhere better, there's no boat by the sea for a Witcher, no lover to hold on to, they don't get a choice. They never did.

He’s talking to a vision that can’t answer him and that’s a sign that he’s gone crazy, he lost his marbles for good this time. And for fuck sake he has to get a grip on himself. Maybe if he had brought Aiden with him to Kaer Morhen he'd still be alive and they'd still be together. There's a voice in the dark that seems to whisper 'coward' over and over and the dark glow of the metal on the Cat medallion on his chest seems to shame him and blame him as much as Aiden's words did in his dream. He's sure he can feel that thing moving, crawling on his skin, a silent accusation reflected in those dead eyes, shining in a sinister way. It bothers him, cause that piece of metal is a reminder of when he failed, what he has lost, where he messed up. It seems to accuse him, demand him to fix this, but how do you fix death? What was that wretched thing reproaching him for, expecting him to mend death as if it was just another curse? When he throws the cat-shaped medallion in the fire in a fit of rage cause the damn thing is mocking him he's three heartbeats away from losing his mind and he smells it: sadness. The woods are filled with that smell of misery, of dust, and grief, the fire trying to burn the metal like the pain was burning his heart, and he stares entranced.

The glimmering of the jewelry in the flames is hypnotic, just like Aiden's eyes were with their shade of green. He'll never gaze into those perfect eyes ever again. He'll never have another spring reunion, he'll never mindlessly trace the line of the scar under Aiden's ribs when he's lost in thought and they're lounging lazily on the bed, and he'll never feel the unique mix of mint, honey and spices that belonged only to Aiden, and no one will ever look at him and make him feel important as he did.

He blinks the tears away and he’s frantically reaching into the flames to retrieve it, reverently placing it on the rumpled blanket, making sure he didn’t damage it in his stupid fit. He can’t afford to ruin the only thing he has left of the only person that ever accepted him and that realization hurts less than his burnt fingertips. There’s nothing left but this necklace. And all his memories.

After that, he's unable to put the cat-shaped medallion back on so it lives in his pocket until he finds enough strength to leave it behind or wear it around his neck again, whatever comes first. That necklace is so heavy it seems to burn a hole in his flesh, and for an irrational second he finds it fitting: Aiden was always getting under his skin, maybe that’s where it should be. Safe, but he’ll never be safe again, the dead are not safe. He tries to shake his thoughts out of his mind while he walks toward the closest village he can find outside of Redania, cause he's almost out of coins, and the perspective of getting drunk and blissfully passing out without dreams for a couple of hours it's too tempting to ignore. With the last of his money, he gets a drink and a room, and after setting his stuff down he sits in a corner of the inn that is slowly filling up. Lambert tries to tune out all the noise of the other patrons, he's not in the mood for petty chats. He's been sitting there for no more than a couple of hours when a slightly drunk guard tells his companions that he's glad he doesn't have a night shift. Last month the black beast devoured three of his mates again, one is still missing. Lambert spares a glance at the little patch of sky he can see from his spot and stands up, making his way to the guard's table. Maybe killing something would keep him distracted. <<This black beast, it shows up once a month?>> The guard looks at his companions utterly frozen in front of him and doesn't bother turning around. <<And how could you possibly know that?>> <<Sir, he's a Witcher, sir, we've seen the lot of them here before. Bad luck to have them around. Terrible bad luck>> Lambert doesn't bother with this pale man that looks too close to fainting, he keeps his eyes on who he assumes he's the captain of the guards that finally decided to turn around, a curious look in his eyes. <<A Witcher, uh? Aye, once a month, for the past three months. I lost twelve good men already.>> <<And how much will you pay for it?>> <<You think you can kill something that took twelve soldiers?>> Lambert is quickly losing his patience, this idiots are not helping his sour mood. <<It's a werewolf, and I've killed the likes before. How much?>> One of the pale kids starts mumbling again, afraid to look at the Witcher and afraid to look away from him. <<My old nan always said it, someone dies when there's a Witcher around.>> <<Did your nan know how to kill a werewolf? Do you? No, so how about you close your fucking mouth!>> <<300 hundred crowns is all I can give you.>> The captain interrupts.

Lambert goes back to his room without another word, preparing for the hunt. He tucks his medallion under his shirt and places the cat-shaped one on the bed. He feels the dark eyes on it following him everywhere, just like the Cat used to do when they were together. He loved it, the feeling of someone watching him not with suspicion, fear, or hate, but kindness and understanding. It was an unfamiliar sensation at first, no one ever looked at him that way. No one ever will. Now he doesn’t want these metal orbs, he wants green eyes that are alive, that stare at him and care, that challenge and mock him, that love him, fight him, accept him. He tries leaving it hidden between the clothes in his pack and it makes it as far as the front door before he's rushing back up to stuff the damn thing in his pocket and head out to hunt this werewolf.

#the witcher #lambert x aiden #aiden x lambert #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #the witcher fanfiction #lambert #aiden #things I write when I can't sleep #it's sad #if you squint there's plot #lambden

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27giotto27 · 4 years

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Mandalorian: Removing his Helmet (Part One)

In episode four, we get a little more background on the Mando and the new tradition of Mandalorians never removing their helmets. We are first introduced to this idea when Heavy Infantry tries to remove Mando’s in episode three.

We learn that the helmet is tied to their identity as a Mandalorian. Mando further explains that if he ever removes his helmet in front of another then he won’t be able to put it back on. So what it means to be Mandalorian is tied up in their helmet and wearing their helmet.

We also get a little more of a background into Mando’s own experience as a Mandalorian especially with this tradition of never removing your helmet:

Omera: “How long has it been since you’ve taken that off?”

Mando: “Yesterday.”

Omera: “I mean, in front of someone else.”

Mando: “I wasn’t much older than they are.” [points to a group of children]

Omera: “You haven’t shown your face to anyone else since you were a kid?”

Mando: “No. I was...happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me.”

First, while I love Mando’s sass (he didn’t need to say “yesterday”; he knew what she was trying to say--this could also be seen as trying to avoid the topic though too), it’s important to know that the Mandalorians can take their helmets off. It’s only a matter of taking it off when alone to maintain the secrecy. This has an interesting effect as it allows others to only see them as Mandalorians. Even those you are close will see the Mandalorians only as Mandalorians. Whoever they are under the helmet basically doesn’t exist. Their only identity is that of a Mandalorian. This could also be why none of the Mandalorians use names and why the watchers don’t get any names for the Mandalorians. It makes me curious if we will ever get Mando’s name within the show.

(Considering that Pedro Pascal did say that his name is Dyn Jarren makes me think that they might. Otherwise, why come up with a name with Mando at all? It makes me wonder if we will get Mando revealing his name or if it will come in a flashback, said by his parents. If it is the latter, then that will still mean Mando’s identity is only as a Mandalorian. If Mando doesn’t use his name as an adult, he is only the Mandalorian and not Dyn Jarren. Because others can only see him as a Mandalorian, it could be argued that he can only see himself as a Mandalorian, not as Dyn Jarren.)

Second, when Mando does remove his helmet to eat (and the watcher doesn’t get to see his face, creating the sole identity of him as Mandalorian for the watcher as well), he does so in front of a window and looks out.

I’ve seen a couple of post about how this is sweet because he is looking at Baby Yoda without his helmet on or it shows how much he is willing to risk for Omera (watching her even if she looks back and sees him without his helmet), but I took it another way mainly due to the dialogue from the previous scene. I think Mando is looking at children playing, living the life he never had, and the community he can never be a part of.

Mando looks out at the children he just compared himself to, the children he could never be like. Unlike them who can run around and play, basically just being kids, he put on the helmet when the Mandalorians found him and raised him as a Mandalorian. In this way, he was denied a normal childhood. And I think he realizes this too.

“No. I was...happy that they took me in.” I added the ellipses here to show how Mando pauses before saying he was “happy” that the Mandalorians took him in. This made me question if he really was happy that they took him in, that they made him a Mandalorian. I doubt he was presented with much of a choice either. If the Mandalorians took him in, he would have to adhere to their way of life and follow the Way of the Mandalore. The fact that it was the “Mandalorians” (plural, not singular) who took him in makes me think that it was the Mandalorian tribe as a whole that raised him, not a single one who acted as his parent/father (as I mentioned in further detail here) .

If we take this model of a young child being taken/found by a group of people and raised with the values/training of that group, all without a figure to act as a parent, we can see two other times this technique has been used: padawans for the Jedi and soldiers for the First Order (who based this idea of the Jedi). In both cases, the Jedi and the First Order, the children that are taken/found aren’t given any other choice but to adapt to the lifestyle that has taken them in. In both cases, these groups defy these children and how they grow up as an adult.

The same could be applied to the Mandalorians. If they found an orphan, I believe they would take the child in as a Foundling as long as the child was willing to learn the Way of the Mandalore. But, in a war zone and without parents, would a child have much of a choice? In order to survive, the child would more than likely be willing to join the Mandalorians and allow himself to be assimilated into Mandalorian culture.

This is not to say that I think that Mando is spiteful towards the Mandalorians. I believe he is grateful to them for saving him and taking care of him. I think he just realizes that he missed out on a normal life. He wasn’t able to be a child like the ones he is watching play. Moreso, because he was made into a Mandalorian, he can’t have a normal life.

Not only does he see the children when he looked out. He sees Baby Yoda playing as well as Omera crouching down to watch as she gives Winta a hug. Basically, he is getting a glimpse of the life that was denied to him and that he thinks he can never have. He never had the chance to be a child, playing freely like that. He can’t grow up with that same innocence and become a loving person like Omera who can so freely show her affection to her daughter. He can’t have a close relationship with Omera. He can’t live in this peaceful community. When he looks out, he sees the life that he never had and can’t have because of that helmet. So by taking off the helmet and looking out, he has this moment of connection between the life he sees and the one he can’t have because of his helmet. He is able to at least imagine what life could have been like if he wasn’t Mandalorian.

(part two)

#star wars #omera #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mando #baby yoda #helmet #spoilers

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celticvampriss · 4 years

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This is a prequel fic to Established Rhythm involving my own OC, Kira Skye, and a developing romance with the Mandalorian. If anyone wants to be tagged when I update let me know. You can read this by following the link or reading the chapter below the read more.

TAG LIST: @banana-batman

A scream followed the hydraulic hiss of the central lifter and a body flew over the extending boarding ramp. It landed with a crunch on a bed of grime and dust, sending a wave of rodents scattering into the trash that had built up in the corner of the mud caked buildings. The sun was blocked by a haze of cloud and smog, the air thick with greenhouse heat that added a nice pungency to the overall smell.

The Mandalorian looked down at his feet, meeting a pair of wide brown eyes that naively saw no issues with the landscape they were about to enter.

“This is no place for a kid,” He said, almost to himself. The Kid liked the occasional sound or he’d get mischievous, and so Dyn was working on the habit of narrating. If only to save his ship from idle green hands. “Any chance I can get you to listen and stay put?”

The Kid cooed, already heading down the ramp.

Dyn sighed.

He let the Kid walk for exactly two tense minutes before scooping him up and quickly weaving his way through the city to his destination. He couldn’t say this was an ideal choice for a new base for the Enclave, but then it wasn’t his place to have a say. He was the reason they’d had to move. Dyn had already memorized the layout, easily finding the new base and proceeding inside. There, at least, surrounded by familiarity and even—despite the new scenery—as close a sense to ‘home’ as he could claim, The Kid would be safe on his own legs, but had protested being set down. With a sigh, Dyn continued to carry him.

As he neared the Armorer, the one who had summoned him, he noticed a face that didn’t belong. A woman with no helmet or armor—who wore quite the opposite in a brightly colored gown with dark hair twisted and bent into an elaborate design—his eyes lingered on her. It was jarring to see a face in the Enclave, he’d imagine it was similar to walking through the halls of your childhood home and seeing a ghost leaning on the kitchen counter chatting with your parents.

He found the Armorer and set the Kid down as he sat and waited. She was in the middle of working and didn’t care to be interrupted.

With a spray of steam, she threw down her smithing gloves and came around to greet him with a silent nod, which he returned.

The Armorer’s gaze drifted briefly to the Kid and then back. “We have a time critical situation that will require your cooperation.”

“What do you need?”

“We need protection and immediate evacuation for her,” The Armorer gestured past the open archway of the armory, to the woman he noticed earlier.

His fists clenched. He couldn’t refuse the request. `“Why? What does she need protecting from?”

“She’s proven to be a great asset to our community, with connections that might just get us some ground in our plans for the future. A little less hiding.”

“A politician?” No wonder she needed protection.

“Not exactly, but there are those who will silence her if they had the chance. We can’t risk that. So you are going to get Kira Skye off this planet and keep her alive until we contact you.”

Dyn glanced at the woman again, her chin high in the air, shoulders set, though closer observation showed the snagged and frayed edges of her dress—recent damage—and that elaborate hair design was lopsided. If he were to guess, she was a highborn lady, someone who had grown up with credits and privilege. And still ‘no’ was not an option.

“Fine,” He relented, “But my ship is small, she’ll have to travel light.”

“She has one bag,” The Armorer gestured to a small, well made rucksack near the door.

They exchanged terse parting words and Dyn scooped up the Kid to leave. He hesitated, then grabbed the rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. Out in the hall, the other Mandalorian’s had left, and she was alone and staring questioningly in his direction.

He sighed, resolving himself to this situation outside his control and silently hoping that it wouldn’t turn out the way he was predicting. Now, closer, he noted the signs of fear and unease in her posture and manners. “Guess you’re with me,” He said, “Come on.”

Kira followed him silently. If he knew that would be her only moments of silence, he might have appreciated it properly, for now he was only grateful to put that planet behind him and that she hadn’t cried.

She marched up the boarding ramp, head high, and immediately crossed her arms as her eyes bounced around the main cabin. Once inside the Razorcrest, he set her bag and the Kid down. “Sit tight until I come back.” He headed for the cockpit.

“Wait,” She marched after him, “Where are you going?”

“I’m getting you off this planet,” He said, “As ordered.”

Her mouth opened and closed, green eyes flashing with a touch of insanity. Her heart was racing, too. He wasn’t sure what had brought her to this moment, but he was starting to piece it together. One bag, nice clothes that were freshly torn, and how hard she was trying to cover her fear and panic with forced confidence. She started to wring her hands together, fingers working over and over each other as her breathing grew heavier.

“Here, sit.” He guided her without touching her to a seat—a crate that was the right height—and then the shut bay door.

“I’m fine. Really. I’ll be fine. I just,” She swallowed, “I just need some air.”

He didn’t know how to tell her that all her air would be recirculated from the air scrubbers and life-support systems for the foreseeable future. It was the kind of comment that wouldn’t help anyway. Instead he found a canteen and offered her old water that, maybe, hadn’t gone stale.

Kira chugged it, water spilling out the corners of her mouth, and when she finished she swiped at her lips with the back of her hand. “Thank you,” She said through heavy breaths, “I don’t remember the last time I drank anything.”

Sitting wasn’t wise. He needed to get them airborne and on their way if the threats to her life were that serious. Yet, every time he turned to do just that, she stopped him.

“Can I come?” She pleaded, eyes big and the barest tremor in her lips. The Kid had already crawled his way up there, though how was a mystery, and he did have the seat for another. There wasn’t any reason to say no except that there was a lot of people encroaching on his solitude and, though he wouldn’t say he hated it, he wasn’t used to it either.

“Sure,” He relented. She crawled into the seat behind his, pulling her legs up under her and getting cozy. He’d never be that flexible, especially with all the armor.

“What’s that flashing?” She asked, as the engines started up and he went through the launching sequences. He glanced down, where her finger was pointing.

“Proximity sensor.”

“What does that do?”

“Alerts when we’re close to things.”

He felt her rise, her hands gripping the back of his seat while she craned her head around him to look. “What about that?”

“It’ll take a long time to explain every switch or indicator,” He said, “And you should be seated. Or you’ll fall.”

She sat and he heard the safety harness click. “I have time, you know.”

He sighed. The Kid cooed in his lap while every other minute she fpund something new to say or ask. He counted one blessing, her constant talking was keeping the kid happy which meant he didn’t have to do it. Once they were moving, he technically didn’t have to stay in the cockpit, but he liked to. Or, rather, sitting in the cockpit had become a habit when he was alone and had nothing else to occupy him while traveling. Now, he supposed, there were things he could do, like see to Kira’s temporary living situation. The Kid had found a shelf to call home—forgoing the crib he’d tried to build for him—and didn’t take up much space. As for accommodations, the Razorcrest had exactly one sleeping cabin with one single bed. There was a cot somewhere in his gear, buried, but he’d have to make it work. He could hardly stick her on the cot in the middle of the open.

“Where are we going?” She asked, ending a solid 47 seconds of silence.

“Not sure yet,” He said, “Right now, I’ve got us heading toward the outer rim. Best place to lay low.”

There was a touch of awe in her voice, which was so naturally expressive he hardly needed to see her to know every emotion she was feeling. “I’ve never been this far from home before. I’ll admit, for as much as I’m afraid, I’m also excited.”

“That’s nice,” He added, though it wasn’t to be dismissive. She seemed to pick up on that and babbled on.

“I’ve read about a great many planets, learning and reading are my favorite activities, since I hadn’t gotten out much as a child. If I’d known I was going to be traveling, I’d have read about ships and their functions. Then I’d have a better idea what all these things do,” She gestured around the cockpit, “Like I’ve been staring at that panel up there for ages, but I can’t decide if it’s meant to show the engines or the life-support functions.”

“Neither,” he said, “That’s an optical transducer panel.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means there are sensors in places sensors aren’t normally found. Keeps the ship more secure.”

“How does it—”

“There’s a manual,” He said, rising and scooting around her legs to a cabinet above her head. He brushed off some of the dust and handed the data pad to her. “Everything about the ship is in there.”

The thing was a relic, he’d never touched it in the years since he’d owned the ship, but the look in her eyes when her fingers closed around half a century old data pad you’d think it was a gold plated set of rare jewels. She stood up, hugging the data pad to her chest, and they were very close together—nowhere else to stand—and she looked like she might try to hug him.

“Your room is down here,” He avoided quickly, heading down the ladder and away from the smothering intensity of her eyes.

She followed him down, saying something about ladders and climbing them in dresses and impractical shoes, and how she really wished she had been able to grab a proper change of clothes. “As it is,” She continued, “It’s just more of this. I hadn’t a chance to…” She swallowed. “I took what I could and, unfortunately, that means nothing of real use. I don’t even have shoes.” She gestured to the high heel of her footwear and then proceeded to rip them off and chuck them in a corner. “I’ll clean those up later.” She said, marching barefoot past him.

“There’s only one cabin with a bed. I’ll need a few minutes to get what I need out, but then it’s all yours—”

She held up her hand in a very commanding gesture, though somehow she managed it without the condescending air. “Out of the question.”

“There’s no other room.”

She looked around, “I can figure out something out here.”

“You can take the room.”

“No.” She crossed her arms, and gave him a look that said quite clearly he would not win this debate. She would outlast him.

He sighed. “Then all I have is a cot. I need to find it first.”

“I’ll help you look.”

They searched through the accumulated junk and odds and ends for a good half hour. Mostly silent, except she had to constantly ask him questions about the things she found. She even cleaned as she went, neatening each displaced object whether it was trash or not. Her path through the minimal storage space was an organized trail. He looked back at his path, and it was just a mess with a walkway in the middle. They found the cot after another half hour and he set it up and placed it against a wall. At least, without carbonite bounties taking up space, there was more room to walk, but that still didn’t leave much. There was also the issue that the cot needed to be secured. He found some tools and welded it in place. He’d hack it apart later. Or leave it, didn’t matter.

“Thank you,” she said once he finished. He nodded.

“I’m sorry I don’t have much for sheets, but there’s an extra pillow.” This was a lie, there was only one and it was his, but he was starting to learn that if he told her that, she’d refuse it.

“Ha!” She tore open her rucksack and started tossing long, flashy garments over the faded, dull green canvas of the cot. “Guess they did have a use after all.”

“Can I get you anything else?” There wasn’t much else to offer.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me.”

He nodded, then hesitated to leave. It was still bothering him, her not taking the room. He didn’t want to voice it, but he thought he could guess the reason. Still, the question wouldn’t come, so he watched her awkwardly for a second, before snapping back to his senses and attempting to leave.

“You want to know why I refused your room,” She stopped him, eyes knowing. How she had guessed his question, he decided not to imagine. She gave him a knowing wink and then tapped her head. “I know a bit about the culture and I’m not about to throw you out of your space when, of the two of us, you’re the one who needs privacy.”

He had a feeling that was it, but then he hadn’t expected her—anyone, really—to be that considerate of what he needed. People often attempted. If they weren’t skirting the line of rudeness, then they would at least be civil about it. But never adjusting their own comfort for his.

He left her. He wasn’t quite tired, so he returned to the cockpit to try and settle on a place they could restock supplies. Her voice drifted up from her cot, a slow, luring song in words he didn’t understand. She was singing. He might have minded, except her voice was pleasing. Lyrical, but strong, he decided to enjoy it rather than tune her out by adjusting his audio sensors.

It wasn’t long before she fell asleep. He swiveled in his seat, glancing toward where she lay, but unable to see her. He only knew she slept because the singing had stopped. It had been nice, but the quiet was welcome. Alone, with only the sounds of the ship, it was a piece of his old normal. He settled back to enjoy the encompassing solitude, when Kira’s voice startled him into standing. He hopped down the ladder, though he couldn’t imagine that any danger had found her in the two hours since he’d left her, and he realized she was still sleeping. Her voice babbled incoherent strings of words and phrases.

Of course she talked in her sleep. He had a feeling that his moments of solitary quiet would only exist in memory.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #star wars #oc #my fic #myfic

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lopsided-whiskey-grin · 4 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline

It was about two weeks after the Mandalorian, an ex-shock trooper, and a rag-tag group of villagers worked together to bring down a Klatooinian raider gang and one hell of a nasty AT-ST that Dyn found himself sitting on a porch watching the sun set. He still couldn’t believe they’d pulled it off; a bunch of inexperienced Omegas and Betas with sharpened sticks? A small part of him had thought they were all doomed for sure. But Omera had surprised the hell out of him with her blaster handling skills and he knew they’d at least have a chance.

As Dyn watched, the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, splashing the clearing and surrounding trees in a purple-hued gloaming. He welcomed the oncoming night, hoping it would bring a little relief from the day’s unseasonably balmy temperatures. Enfolded by a stillness he’d had never known, it struck him how this was the longest he’d spent in one place since he’d been a child, well before his differentiation into an Omega and his first heat. He’d always moved from place to place, job to job, with hardly a break in between. This was The Way. But this interlude here in Omera’s village, as unexpected and long as it had been, seemed destined to be.

A dawning realization hit him then, along with a sudden unwelcome warmth low in his belly, and he lurched upright in his chair.

“Shit.”

When was the last time he’d taken his heat suppressant? He hadn’t planned on this job taking more than a week so he’d left most of his essentials on the Crest back in town and those essentials included his twice monthly pills. He had been so preoccupied with trying to keep the villagers (and the kid and Winta and Omera) alive he hadn’t even spent a fucking thought on his suppressants. He cursed himself for being so careless.

With his ship more than a day’s journey away, there was no way he’d make it back before the overwhelming clutch of the first heat he’d had in years raked him over the coals. Dyn licked his lips, hidden under the cover of his helm, and fisted his suddenly trembling hands on his knees. He looked from side to side, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He had to get out of here.

Just then Omera walked around the corner of the hut beside his, lit in a beautiful wash of campfire and moonlight. She was heading straight toward him, a question already forming on her lips.

“Would you like to join us toni-”

Dyn stood abruptly, his wooden chair flying back against the hut with the force of the movement, and quickly retreated into the abode, slamming the thin door behind him. He despised being so rude, but he was quickly becoming desperate to be alone. And without an Alpha anywhere in sight to help him through this oncoming heat he came close to panic. He wrapped his arms around his middle and paced about the small living space, his breath coming out through the voice modulator in harsh pants. wondering how in the hell he was going to get through this. If there was a small mercy in any of this it was that the kid was with the other children at a sleepover tonight.

Being an Omega was something Dyn had slowly come to terms with in his adult life, but he never considered it a defining characteristic. He had always seen himself as strong, willful, even with that tractable title of Omega. Never one to beg or plead, he only ever relied on himself, stubbornly denying the submissive nature of the dynamic. He was so much more than the weak and vulnerable nature that society dictated of an Omega, and he’d worked harder than most to shirk those labels. The Mandalorians willingly accepted any type into their clan and had accepted Dyn just the same, but he felt like he had had to fight and claw his way to the position he was in now; it had not been an easy road but this was The Way.

He had tried and mostly succeeded in hiding his dynamic, taking his suppressants religiously and probably too often, if he was being honest. He just wanted to do everything in his power to avoid being reduced to the needy, wanting, shameless mess he became when he was in heat. But now he had no choice.

Heavy arousal hit him low in his stomach and he sank to his knees with a moan. His cock, suddenly and painfully erect, strained against his cargos and he pressed the heel of his hand to it, but felt no relief. Heat seared across his skin, making his clothes feel far too confining. His body ached for the thick knot of an Alpha and he had no way to quench the scorching wildfire growing more out of control with every passing second.

Omera’s voice filtered in through the door and Dyn had to bite back a strangled groan. “Is everything all right?” she asked softly.

“Please,” he rasped. He meant to finish with leave me alone but the words wouldn’t come. He knew in this village of Omegas and Betas, with Cara grouped in the latter, there would be no one to help him through this. Tears welled in his eyes as another wave of heat swept through him, tightening his guts, making it hard to think clearly, and he crawled across the room to the bed.

Omera was so quiet at the door Dyn thought she had left. But then she spoke again. “I can help,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Goddamnit.” He didn’t need her help, he needed to be left alone. But that wasn’t quite right though, was it? He didn’t need to be alone. He needed an Alpha who could bend him over and fuck this cursed heat out of him until he couldn’t see straight. The sudden mental image of a strong, capable Alpha taking control, opening him up, filling him beyond capacity caused a sudden rush of moisture to slick down his inner thigh.

Shaking, Dyn somehow managed to pull himself up onto the bed. He slumped down onto his side, trying to coordinate his fingers enough pull off his gloves and undo the vambraces on his forearms, but they wouldn’t comply.

Omera was suddenly back with a polite but firm knock on the door before walking into the hut. He rolled away from her, not wanting her to see him like this. Perspiration slicked his skin beneath his clothes and helmet, stifling and far too constricting, and he curled in on himself helplessly.

“Omera, please go,” he rasped.

He heard her step up beside the bed with her hands full of something. “You’re in heat,” she said matter-of-factly and Dyn barked out a humorless laugh. How did she guess?

She ignored his sarcasm and continued on. “You don’t think a whole village of Omegas without an Alpha in sight would not be prepared to help one another through it when the time comes?”

Dyn stilled except for his labored breathing and he slowly turned his head to look back at her. She wore a patient and understanding smile and held a large muslin sack in her hands. A corked water jug rested on top. His mouth thirsted for a drink.

Omera set the items on the floor and helped him up to a sitting position. Kneeling down, she settled a hand on his knee and looked up at him. The touch, as light as it was, sent a shock-wave through him that went straight to his cock. Arousal was clouding his brain, making it hard to think. Dyn swallowed against a dry throat.

She patted his leg then began unpacking the bag after setting the water jug beside him on the bed. His fingers found the glass neck and he grasped it in one hand almost hard enough to crack it. His other hand was pressed firmly to the bulge at his crotch, trying to relieve the ever building pressure to no avail as he watched Omera pull items from the sack.

First came a blanket and a few washcloths then a rather large, complex-looking dildo, and finally a vial with a screw top lid. Dyn looked at the array of items in a guarded wonder; it seemed this village was prepared after all.

Sitting back on her haunches, Omera opened the vial and all at once the cloying scent of Alpha pheromones assaulted Dyn’s senses. He dipped his head down in instinctive submission and doubled forward with a weak cry, almost toppling off the bed. His breath came in rapid, ragged puffs and more moisture soaked his pants. The scent was undeniably heady and perfect and held the promise of being well bred and sated.

Omera turned back toward him, concern drawing her brows together. “Why haven’t you undressed yet? We need to get these clothes off of you. You will burn up.“

Dyn shook his head. "I - I can’t.” Not even in midst of this scorching heat would he dishonor the Mandalorian creed by taking off his helmet in front of her.

Omera sighed but nodded her understanding. She quickly stood and looked about the small room - for what he did not know. The Alpha pheromones were damn near driving him out of his mind. He squeezed his thighs together and shifted his ass down into the bed but nothing helped, and nothing would - except an Alpha’s knot.

Omera quickly came back to him with a long, narrow strip of red cloth draped over her palms. “If I can’t see your face, you would be able to remove the gear, yes? I know you won’t be able to breathe with that thing on when we get in the thick of it and you’ll need to drink plenty of water to stay hydrated.”

“All valid points,” he conceded, coming to the very end of his control. “Put it on.”

He watched her tie the cloth over her eyes and knot it at the back of her head. The sight of her like that made his heart pump double time. There was no denying Omera was gorgeous, but the fact that she was willing to do this for him, to him, turned him on all the more.

She held out a hand and Dyn took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet on shaky legs. Closing the space between them, she reached up blindly until her hands were on either side of his helmet, her head tilting up and her lips parting. She began lifting, and in a replay of that moment just a few days earlier, Dyn instinctively grasped her wrists. She paused, seemingly awaiting his consent. When his hands fell to his sides in surrender, she slowly lifted it up and off.

That strong Alpha scent was even more intoxicating without the barrier of the helm and Dyn’s knees buckled. Omera helped to steady him then they both worked quickly to undo his armor and shed his boots and clothes. He stood before her laid utterly bare - the first time he’d been in such a state in many, many years - even though she couldn’t see him. The cool night air kissed his sweat slick skin and he began to shiver even as the warmth of his heat still simmered just under the surface.

Omera’s hands suddenly found his body and she trailed hungry touches over every angle and curve, seeing him with her senses, not her eyes. Her fingers caught lightly over old scars, his nipples, his chest hair. Dyn bit his bottom lip to stop a gasp from tumbling from his mouth.

She tilted her head to the side and Dyn could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at her neck. “The pheromones,” she whispered. “They’re starting to affect me too."

Alpha heat-response pheromones were notorious for pulling in immediate bystanders whether they were in heat or not, though the effect wasn’t near as strong as it was for an Omega on their cycle.

Her fingers continued their journey down his stomach to his cock, rubbing up the achingly hard shaft then down to fondle his balls. "Omera.” He shuddered under her touch. A warning? A plea for mercy? Both all at once? Dyn did not know.

Without waiting another second, he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her clothed body against his own nakedness. Dipping his head down, he bumped their foreheads together in a gentle Mandalorian Keldabe kiss, then captured her mouth with a tentative press of his lips. Which, after an unexpected but wholy welcome sweep of her tongue, Omera turned into a searing crush of need-driven desire.

When they were both properly breathless, Dyn pulled back with a palm cupping her jaw. He drug the pad of his thumb across her kiss-bruised bottom lip and she drew just the tip in for a quick taste of his skin. He was so hard it was painful.

“I- I need,” he choked out the words, swallowed, tried again, “you. I need you to break me of this heat."

Omera released his thumb and nodded. "I will.”

He undressed her then with a few fumbling flicks of his wrists and led her to the edge of the bed. He could not wait another moment. As he watched, Omera stooped down, her hands blindly feeling for the muslin sack she’d brought with her. She found the dildo and pheromone vial and straightened again. A shiver of anticipation flushed through Dyn that was quickly burned up by another heavy wave of heat. A thick trail of moisture tracked down his inner thigh and he grabbed up the corked jug beside him for a couple greedy chugs of water.

“On all fours, Mando.” Omera’s voice wasn’t quite the commanding tone of an Alpha, but it was just assertive enough to bring out the submissive nature he usually tried hiding, but in this moment he could no longer deny. He immediately complied, resting his head down on his forearms and presenting his ass for the taking.

“It’s Dyn,” he murmured into the sheets beneath him.

“Dyn,” she said reverently, like the offering of his name was a sacred gift.

He felt the bed dip as she crawled onto the mattress behind him and his cock throbbed. Scorching arousal tightened his stomach almost unbearably and he spread his legs a little wider, urging her to please just end his suffering already.

Omera’s hand was suddenly on his hip, her skin blessedly cool against his, and he moaned. The vial of Alpha scent was opened again and this time she splashed a couple of drops onto the dildo. She rubbed the phallus up and down his crack, damn near driving him out of his mind.

“I haven’t done this blindfolded before,” she admitted. She teased his hole with just the tip.

“But you have done this before, right?” he panted. He trusted her more than anyone, but he had to know he wasn’t in inexperienced hands.

“Oh, yes.” Without another moment’s hesitation she began pushing the tool inside.

Dyn’s immediately twisted his fingers into the bedding. “Kriff,” he swore, stars exploding behind his tightly closed eyes. It was the perfect amount of pressure and girth, stretching him open with an exquisite burn. The heat inside him swelled to overwhelming crescendo and he pushed his hips back eagerly, taking the full length at once.

Omera squeezed his hip. “You take it so well, Dyn,” she praised as she maneuvered herself flush behind him.

The plaudit stroked his Omega’s heart exactly how he needed it and he let out a low whine of pleasure. His thighs began trembling as his body screamed for Omera to keep going. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

With one hand grasped at the base of the dildo, she leaned forward over his back and latched on to his shoulder for leverage. Then she began moving. Swift, strong thrusts pounded his ass, pushing the cock in as deep as it would go with every snap of her hips, filling him in a way he’d never experienced before. He tried keeping up, pushing back on every shove forward, but the Alpha pheromones mixing with the scent of his arousal and hers, and the way her breasts grazed his skin, and the way she stretched him open, made it fucking impossible to even think straight. All he could do was moan weakly against the onslaught.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to his hair, tangling her fingers into the thick, dark strands. She tugged and he brought his head up rapidly, willing her to use him however she saw fit, his body howling for her knot. Changing the angle of her thrusts minutely while continuing her brutal onslaught, Omera’s cock hit Dyn directly on that swollen bundle of nerves deep inside him. He cried out, tears welling in his eyes from the staggering amount of pleasure crashing against him, battering him like a ship lost in the stormy waters on Kamino. Precome leaked from his achingly hard erection down onto the bed.

“You sound like you’re nearly there, Dyn.” She released his hair and he sunk his head back down to the bed. He tried and failed to control his breathing. Grasping his hip again, she pushed in harder, faster. “Are you ready for this knot?”

“Yes, oh, please, please, yes.” The words fell from his lips in a hoarse, shameless tumble.

Omera pushed in one last time with a groan, nailing his prostate full force, and he came with a broken shout, spurting gleaming ropes of his spend all over the sheets. Just as he climaxed, the cock emptied some sort of synthetic release that was just as hot and perfect as the real thing deep inside him then began expanding in his ass, trapping the thick liquid, knotting him, thankfully breaking his heat for the time being. He knew he would only have a short time to rest before it was back, scorching him from the inside out, but for now it was abating.

His body shook with the force of the aftershocks of one of the hardest orgasms he’d ever had and Omera gently helped to lay him down on his side. She spooned behind him, skin to skin, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his side, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder. The cock remained embedded inside him, still working to keep the second round of heat at bay momentarily.

“Thank you for,” he began, grasping her hand and pulling it around to his chest.

“Shh,” she quieted him. She absently traced circles through his chest hair, sending mini tremors through to his core at the intimacy of it. “No need to thank me.”

“And yet I do. I could not get through this without you.”

“Then we are even,” she countered, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “You saved me and now I have saved you.”

He chuckled and brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. Finding this planet seemed like some sort of cosmic kismet. Finding Omera here was his destiny. His heart swelled and he blinked back a curious sting of tears at the back of his eyes. He’d never felt such a strong pull before.

Arousal bloomed slow and warm in his belly and he pushed his ass back against her. She gasped behind him and he smiled. “Again already, Dyn?”

“Appears so.” He tugged her hand down to his hardening cock so she could feel for herself.

Grasping his length, Omera nibbled playfully at his shoulder. “So it does.”

#the mandalorian #dyn is in heat and omera lends a helping hand #omegaverse #the boy is a bottom y'all #in heat #mandomera #fanfic

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aworldofyou · 3 years

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Cullen losing all of his clothes and dignity at a lost game of Wicked Grace is one thing, but Cullen returning the next game with Leliana who’s glreaming with a vengeance is another.

This lady does not play because she will break the entire Castle; Cullen’s secret weapon everyone is Leliana.

#[ leliana / ch. study ] one small life in exchange for a second chance at history? I always loved a bargain.#[ leliana / dyn: inquisitor emrys lavellan. ] but it must be done. I cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this.#[ leliana / dyn: cullen rutherford ] I want to know who pines for our commander. we can use this to our advantage. Hush. Just look pretty.#[ leliana does not play because then.. it's not fair one everyone elSE THAT SHE IS SO GOOD ]#[ the only one who can match her and beat her even is isabela ]

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iniziare · 4 years

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Tag drop: Ezio Auditore (part 2)

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zeroviraluniverse-blog · 6 years

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What You Need To Know

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/what-you-need-to-know/

What You Need To Know

Feb. 12, 2018 — In October 2017, the FDA approved a new shingles vaccine, called Shingrix. This January, the CDC officially recommended that adults 50 and over get the new vaccine to prevent this painful, blistering disease instead of the previous one, Zostavax. WebMD asked a few infectious disease experts how Shingrix works and whether it has any risks.

How is Shingrix different from Zostavax?

Shingrix is more than 90% effective at preventing shingles and a painful complication called postherpetic neuralgia (PHN) in all age groups. Zostavax only lowers the odds of getting shingles by 51%, and of PHN by 67%. It’s even less effective in people ages 70 and older.

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The Zostavax vaccine has been around since 2006. It contains a live but weakened version of varicella zoster — the virus that causes shingles and chickenpox.

Shingrix has a dead version of the zoster virus. It also contains an adjuvant — a substance that helps your body fight off the virus better. “It causes your immune system to produce more antibodies to fight shingles than the other vaccine produced. So your body has a stronger immune response to the Shingrix vaccine than to the Zostavax vaccine,” says Michael Hogue, PharmD, a professor of pharmacy at the Samford University College of Health Sciences.

Why is Shingrix recommended for people ages 50 and older?

You can get Shingrix at age 50, when your chance of having shingles rises. Studies have shown that its protection remains strong for at least 4 years, but researchers hope it will last much longer because the immune response is stronger.

“The CDC recommended that Zostavax stay at 60 and older because they were concerned the immunity would wane, and there would be a number of people who were vaccinated in their 50s who wouldn’t be protected in their 70s,” says Kenneth Schmader, MD, a professor of medicine and chief in the division of geriatrics at Duke University Medical Center.

“It looks as though it’s going to stay high with virtually undiminished protection,” says William Schaffner, MD, an infectious diseases specialist at Vanderbilt University. “Shingrix is clearly a superior vaccine.”

Who should get the Shingrix vaccine?

The CDC says healthy adults ages 50 and over should get the Shingrix vaccine. You should get it even if you’re not sure if you ever had chickenpox, the CDC says.

How many doses of the vaccine do you need?

You need two doses, given 2 to 6 months apart. “That second dose is really important to make sure you get long-term protection,” Hogue says.

What are the side effects?

Shingrix causes more side effects than Zostavax. “That’s the price you pay for the boost in immune response,” Schmader says.

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The main side effects reported in studies were soreness, redness, and swelling where you get the shot. Some people also got headaches or felt tired or achy after the shot. About 1 out of 10 people said the side effects were severe enough to disrupt their daily life. Yet most felt better within 3 to 5 days.

“The side effects of the Shingrix are temporary, and usually last 2 to 3 days. While you may experience pain for a few days after getting Shingrix, the pain will be less severe than having shingles and the complications from the disease,” the CDC says.

Should you get Shingrix if you’ve already had the Zostavax shot?

Yes. The CDC recommends that you get the Shingrix vaccine if you’ve already had Zostavax, because it’s more effective than the older vaccine and the protection lasts longer. Wait at least 2 months after you have Zostavax to get Shingrix.

Should you get Shingrix if you’ve already had shingles?

Yes. Shingles can come back after you’ve had it. “There’s a somewhat increased risk that you could get a second episode, so go ahead and get the vaccine,” Schaffner says. Just wait until your rash and other symptoms have cleared.

Who shouldn’t get Shingrix?

People who shouldn’t get Shingrix include anyone who:

Has had a severe allergic reaction to any of its ingredients

Has tested negative for immunity to the varicella zoster virus. If you test negative, you should get chickenpox vaccine.

Currently has shingles

Is pregnant or breastfeeding. If you are, you should wait to get Shingrix.

The CDC’s Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices hasn’t confirmed whether the vaccine is safe for people who have a weakened immune system because of a disease or medicine they take. One worry is that taking drugs that weaken the immune system might make the shingles vaccine less effective. It’s also possible that by stimulating the immune system, Shingrix could worsen certain diseases, like leukemia.

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The committee will review the research, and it should offer more specific advice later this year.

Is Shingrix available now?

“It’s out, but in small quantities. The demand has been extremely high,” Schmader says. That means it may not be available right away in every part of the country.

Will health insurance cover the cost?

Shingrix costs $280 for both shots. Medicare Part D — the prescription drug plan for people ages 65 and older — will cover the cost. But you may have to get the shot at your pharmacy instead of your doctor’s office.

What about private health insurance? Insurance companies usually wait to cover a vaccine until the CDC formally recommends it, which happened in January. Then the government gives them 12 months to bring about full coverage, Hogue says. “The best advice is to check with your insurance carrier.”

If your insurance doesn’t yet cover Shingrix, consider getting Zostavax until your coverage for the new vaccine kicks in. “I would encourage you to get the vaccine, because shingles is extremely painful, and it can be a debilitating disease,” Hogue adds.

Sources

CDC: “About the Vaccine,” “Shingrix Recommendations,” “What Everyone Should Know About Shingles Vaccination (Shingrix),” “What Everyone Should Know About Zostavax.”

Michael Hogue, PharmD, professor of pharmacy, Samford University College of Health Sciences.

William Schaffner, MD, infectious diseases specialist, Vanderbilt University.

Kenneth Schmader, MD, professor of medicine; chief, division of geriatrics, Duke University Medical Center.

Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report: “Recommendations of the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices for Use of Herpes Zoster Vaccines.”

#Health

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