#i feel like i accidentally sold part of my soul just thinking it

[boykissr]

i hate everything (<-just pointed to a dead victorian british catboy and said "he just like me for real")

#like how do i move on with my life after this #i feel like i accidentally sold part of my soul just thinking it #do i tag this #wrmmmm #nevermore webtoon #pluto nevermore

[bogkeep]

berserkblogging, spoilers for the golden age arc

(for the record, i'm halfway through volume 10 so i haven't caught up to the eclipse yet, i just have too many feels as they say)

the golden age arc is such a perfect tragedy, i have never considered myself someone who enjoys tragedies in particular but this one is just so extremely well executed i CANNOT get over it.

my outsider impression of berserk was that ok u have big muscly man who had a presumably homoerotic anime friendship with a beautiful man and then a betrayal happened and now they hate eachother. i was a little surprised to find that it's So Much More (AND CASCA EXISTS. I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT CASCA)

they Loved each other......... all three of them...... but in such a complicated way because they're all a little fucked up but like. who isn't

for guts it's how, he never learnt how to Want anything. he couldn't know that he had so much he wanted already, because he never learnt how to, and standing so close to griffith and his all-consuming longing, how could he? he was only part of the band because griffith wanted him so badly, and all guts knows is how to be a sword, and when griffith asks him, do you think it's cruel of me to wield you as a sword? guts only says it's a little late to be asking that now. it's like guts is that sword to griffith that guts' sword is to himself - an extention of his body, of his reach, to get bloodied,

and casca always wanted to be that sword. guts never tried to take it from her, but all her pain over it lands on him nonetheless. and it really is so painful to see someone be everything that you've ever wanted, effortlessly, accidentally,

but maybe her tragedy is that casca really was a sword to him after all, and only that, and griffith's tragedy is that guts was not. it would've been so much easier if guts was just a sword, wouldn't it?

guts asked. twice, he asked griffith, why did you save my life? and griffith could have answered, because i want to have you around, because you're my friend, because i love you. but he didn't. guts was only ever a sword that belonged to him.

how many times had griffith said guts belonged to him, his life and his death? but at some point, he had become mistaken. if just, for one moment, griffith could have admitted, to guts, to himself, what they are to one another...

maybe it wouldn't have been enough. maybe he would never have quit the restless pursuit of his dream. we might never know.

so when guts left, how could he have known what he was to griffith? all he's ever been is someone else's belonging, to be sold out or won as a prize...

how can anyone know anything, in the blinding light of griffith's ambition? it becomes so clear when griffith is gone, the people who had stood closest to him can suddenly look around them with clear and open eyes, look at who they themself are - guts and casca share this, it's hard to be a person and a sword at the same time, and maybe together they can be people, a man and a woman. and the band loves guts, and the cohesion of the group - it was never just griffith who held them together. they are all real people, flesh and bone, not just the wisps of a dream.

i think there's something so.... i don't know, if you've ever known someone who makes life feel like a dream, and when they're gone, you feel like you're blinking awake, your head clearing up, their influence on you seeping out of you like fog?

and when griffith returns - imagine holding all these souls as swords in your hand for years and years, and now they're people. they're not your swords anymore. and THEN

i don't know if this is coherent or just increasingly high pitched screaming. i just feel like there are so many moving parts of this tragedy, one so inevitable and preventable at the same time, each piece moving with chess board precision, waiting to lunge a blade directly into your chest.

#haiz reads berserk #MIGHT AS WELL HAVE A TAG FOR IT AT THIS POINT

[qdbs-writes]

can I request a part two of Captain America s/o with the same characters, but NSFW this time? They're getting to it but s/o is afraid to hurt them because of his strength and size (interpret that however you like 😅) ty so much <3

omg that super soldier post was so far back ahhh, but here is the og! and nonny i will be interpreting 'size and strength' in the horniest way possible >;)

MK Lads x Male!Super-Soldier!Reader NSFW Scenario

Kung Jin

He'd let you hit with NO PREP NO LUBE with the ride going at FULL SPEED. He knows he'll die, but he'll die happy goddamnit! You could hit him with your car and he would thank you!

Jokes aside, Jin strikes me as having grown up quite sheltered, so I won't bank on him understanding the intricacies of gay sex, even after he comes out and is in a relationship with you.

So hopefully you can teach him a thing or two! Like prep, prep is so fucking vital.

As an ex-Marvel fan, we all know that the super soldier serum works on the whole body, penis included. So please feel free to just drop your jeans if Jin is ever like "Just put it in me", it will silence all opposition.

So your fears of hurting Jin are probably more realistic. One way to get around this would be to let Jin top you for a bit, he'd love to clap your super soldier cheeks!

Granted, Jin isn't nearly as big as you are, about 5 inches erect and 1.8 inches in diameter, but hey, it's not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean.

Takeda Takahashi

If you express your fear of hurting him during sex Takeda will go full heart eyes mode because no one else has been this concerned about his safety in the past.

At the same time, he wants to be fucking annihilated by your cock, your hands, your mouth. You name it, Takeda wants it.

Having the biggest dick he's ever seen, Takeda is gonna want it in his mouth first, starting with coy little licks and nibbles before it all devolves into shamelessly aggressive throat fucking.

Let's imagine for a blissful moment that being a super soldier means you've got buckets of cum in your nutsack. Takeda wants all that cum covering almost every inch of his body: his face, his stomach, his back, his hands, if you've got some leftover, he'd love to feel it trickle down from his hole.

Be warned that Takeda may be so distracted by your super soldier dick that he accidentally gets way too much lube out and unintentionally turns the bed into a fucking slip N slide.

Erron Black

If you stop him in the middle of getting down and dirty to say some shit like "I'm scared I'm too strong and I might hurt you..." Erron's like "This ain't my first rodeo, big boy".

Do you think in his adventures in Outworld that Erron hasn't been fucking huge-cocked, monster people? Because he's been fucking monster people with huge cocks.

His hole? Douched. His cheeks? Waxed. His body? Ready. His soul? Sold. His panties? Fucking gone.

You could hold Erron up by one hand, pushing and pulling him onto your dick like a fleshlight and Erron would have the best time.

Erron's favourite bit is when your cock is so deep in his guts that you can see his stomach bulge at the size of it, he also loves it when you cum super deep and it floods his insides.

If you put 'Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)' on while you are balls deep inside him, Erron will let it slide, unless you can't stop laughing, then he'll be pissy.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat headcanons #mk x reader #kung jin #kung jin x reader #takeda takahashi #takeda takahashi x reader #erron black #erron black x reader #male reader #qdbs writing

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Recipe

It was a recipe for disaster. At least, that's what the book said. Mayhem, malice, and everything between. Ingredients salt, oil, candles, goat's milk, one clove of garlic and a smattering of cloves. Preparation time twenty-five minutes. Summons a demon and binds them to their master's will.

Serves one.

"Are you sure this is the real deal?"

"I don't know." Roz had found it in one of the old books upstairs, the dusty tomes she collected as much for the aesthetic as anything else. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

"I mean, shouldn't it be eye of newt, toe of frog, and all that?" Mari was a close enough friend to humour Roz's eccentricities, but that didn't mean she didn't harbour her own doubts. "Not stuff that we can pick up from the local supermarket."

"I just hope that table salt is fine," Roz said, pouring some in a wide circle on the floorboards. "They didn't have those fancier pots of seasalt flakes, or the pink Himalayan stuff you see nowadays."

"I don't see how it matters," Mari said. "It's salt. What's it going to do? Surely any demon worth his salt won't be deterred by some."

"How should I know? Maybe they're like snails."

"My dad says you can put down bark, or copper, and it works the same in your garden. Do you think a copper ring would work on demons?"

"I don't even know that this one will." Roz threw her hands up in the air, accidentally spraying a handful of salt across the room. "Look, I don't know if demons are real, or if this ritual is real, or if I'm doing any of this properly. But I'm going to try it, and we'll just see what happens."

With Mari's questions out of the way, Roz proceeded with the remaining set up: a chalk pentagram within the circle, dribbly candles at opposite points outside it, and a stick of incense that only seemed to incense her asthma. Her personal hell was a perfume shop, or one of those places that sold rainbow coloured bath bombs, so perhaps her person demon would feel suitably at home.

She took a puff on her inhaler, reached out for Mari to hold her hand, and began to read the incantation from the page. It was in Latin script, but not in any language she recognised, so she hoped that her pronunciation was close enough. She'd struggled in French at school, and this felt like it had slight higher stakes: as much as she'd feared the displeasure of Mme Blanc, she hadn't carried the threat of damnation to the underworld.

"Oh, great. Teenage girls. Why am I not surprised?"

The demon arrived in a foul mood. He was short, covered in crimson spines, and slightly smoking at the edges, but he wasn't entirely unlike Mme Blanc in his demeaning demeanour. Someone had clearly surfaced from the wrong side of the sulphur pit.

"Uh, hi." Mari was looking to Roz to say something, but she wasn't sure what that was. The book hadn't been clear on that part, and she hadn't even expected to get this far. Did they introduce themselves, or was it a bad idea to give their names? Was that demons or elves? "Thank you for coming."

"You say that like I had a choice."

"Sorry. So... what's the deal here? Do we get three wishes or something?" Mari gave her a nudge. "Is that together, or each?"

"Free samples?" the demon answered scathingly. "No, there's only one deal here. You can have anything that it's in my power to give. But first, you must pledge over your soul."

"Oh." Roz looked over at Mari, who seemed equally lost. "Can we have some time to consider?"

"Sure, waste more of my time." The demon seemed to smoke more when he was annoyed. Perhaps that had been why he was smoking to start with. "It's not like I'm busy."

"Thanks."

The friends backed away into a corner, not knowing whether it made the slightest bit of difference as to whether the demon could listen in, but feeling the need for some veneer of privacy. Roz kept a subtle eye on him in turn, but he seemed to have taken the opportunity to sit down and rest his head in clawed hands. Even if he could hear them, he looked like he would try his best not to.

"Did you have any thoughts?" she whispered.

"You mean you didn't think this through?" Mari asked in turn, her whisper more urgent. "Even with the three wishes thing?"

"I wished for it to work. I never thought it would."

"Doesn't the recipe say anything?"

"No." Roz double-checked the instructions, but there was no serving suggestion. "I've got nothing off the top of my head. I'm guessing you're the same?"

"I'm just here to back you up. You can do whatever you like, but I don't want any part of any deal for myself."

"Fair enough," she said, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."

They returned to the edge of the circle, where the table salt lay undisturbed. If the demon could cross it, he didn't seem to have tried; if this was his portal back to hell, Roz supposed this was the equivalent of loitering in the doorway, waiting to be allowed to leave.

"Sorry," she told him. "I don't think there's anything I want more than my soul, really. It's kind of my most valuable possession."

"Of course," the demon sighed, but he didn't look surprised. "Another cold call, just wasting my time. Are you going to banish me now?"

"Almost," Roz said. Something about the way he'd said it made her pause. "What about you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is there anything that's in our power to give? Forgive me for prying, but you don't exactly seem too happy in your current role. Job satisfaction is important. Are there opportunities for advancement, work-afterlife balance, that sort of thing?"

"Oh." For the first time since they'd summoned him, he seemed interested in what she had to say. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it, not knowing any alternatives."

"We can help with that." Roz looked over to Mari, who nodded. "We can't offer any otherworldly pleasures, but, well... worldly pleasures? We can start off small, if you like. Have you ever tried a cookie?"

#writing #original writing #creative writing #short story

[bluberimufim]

Happy STS! 💜💌 What role does symbolism play in your WIPs, if any? What symbols relate to certain characters, events, or emotions? How do you decide what symbols to use, or what these symbols mean? Are they intentional, or do you notice them after they've appeared in the story? :) - @liv-is

Happy STS!!

Sorry to have procrastinated this ask but I wanted the answer to be good because of all the different parts the ask has. I'll split it into parts. The answers are about "Black and White", my beloved main WIP.

This is gonna be Lengthy.

What role does symbolism play in your WIPs, if any? What symbols relate to certain characters, events, or emotions?

Colours are very important in B&W. The whole circus is like a colour wheel with a big black and white tent in the center (each colour zone has a distinct Vibe but that's a post for another day). This mirrors how the story has a lot of pieces, with each side character being represented by a different colour, but they all ultimately revolve around Darius and Diedrich, the two protagonists, represented by black and white respectively.

In truth, Diedrich (white) is the original here, and Darius wants to define himself by contrast, while also being a foil to Diedrich, his kinda-mentor. Diedrich carefully guarded the secret of having sold his soul for his magic, while Darius tells everyone he did the same, despite no one believing him. Diedrich took Darius as an assistant and, in turn, Darius says he'll never take on an assistant in his life. He wears black suits and Diedrich wears white suits. But there's still many similarities between the two: their names start with the same letter, they use similar-sounding intros for their shows, and, when Markov joins Darius later on, he can't help but think of him as "his" Johann (who is Diedrich's best friend and travelled everywhere with him).

The Thing I wanted to get to is that both of their love interests are associatedwith the colour red. August (Darius's (ex)boyfriend), wears red almost every day as part his costume, and Lucille (Diedrich's wife), says her favourite colour is red. Hugo, who is Darius's other ex-boyfriend, also has slight associations with red. This is because all these lovers have one thing in common: they are tossed aside by their significant others in exchange for success. Although it's much more prevalent in Diedrich, on account of him being in the story for 38 years, Darius also does this. Diedrich has abandoned his wife three separate times because he just can't quit being a magician. (One of these times was when their son had just died, something indirectly but kinda directly caused by Diedrich, and he just didn't want to be with his wife bc it was depressing.) In the very first chapter, Darius leaves Hugo to go work under Diedrich, knowing full well this will probably land him in poverty. Then later, he basically says to August "come with me or we're done" (slightly better than straight-up abandoning, I guess, but still messed up), and August says "let's break up then".

How do you decide what symbols to use, or what these symbols mean?

The use of colour came to me very easily. I'm an artist, so I give it a lot of importance. For me, it's always one of the things that better defines a character's design in my mind. I'm a very visual person, so it ends up being the most obvious symbol for me, more than actual images.

I also have a Thing with Veera and Alexis's colours in the dystopia WIP, but I feel like I need to develop that more, but also because this post is already enormous. The dystopia WIP has a lot of colours.

Are they intentional, or do you notice them after they've appeared in the story?

Mostly they're accidents. Like the tent thing? I just realized that while writing this. The red thing has been around for a biiiit longer but it was also accidental.

But when I do notice a nice parallel or symbolism, I double down on it.

There's this parallel I completely accidentaly established between Anna (Diedrich's sister) and Johann's romance and Alphonse (Diedrich's son) and August, and I only noticed because I repeated a sentence in two dialogues (it was along the lines of "I want to love you in the sunlight"). Johann and Anna are obviously straight but their romance is taboo just as much as Alphonse and August's (which is gay) because Johann is married, but the marriage was forced upon him by his parents - kinda like, for queer people, society decides what your love should look like with no regard for what you truly want. Johann and Alphonse have just as much fear of disappointing their families, despite their difference in sexuality, because they've been told their love is unacceptable.

Aaaaaaanyway this was a very fun ask! I love rambling!!

It was also huge tho. I went off the rails.

#listen i love diedrich #he's one of my favourite ocs ever #but lucille needs to divorce him asap #great character. ok father. absolutely shit husband. #i wish she was like august and just straight-up broke off the marriage on the spot #fun fact if you line up all the side characters in a particular order #you get the original pride flag #bc i'm queer and i do what i want #writing #my wips #writeblr #sts asks #asks #sts #black & wip

[springvaletales]

((Session 28 is wrapped!))

We’re back with our guest, and a new player who’s just sitting in to listen tonight.

I had a DM-to-DM chat with my bestie’s dad last night about how to deal with a cheating PC and since talking has failed so far we’re going to try some of his suggestions

Asahi’s PC had trouble getting set up, so we just took to chatting about back-up PCs and how that party is basically shaping up to be the Evil One

Bagelby’s Player’s backup: Label, Bagelby’s long-lost, lawful-evil, lvl. 7 rune knight child-soldier twin brother.

August’s Player, banging their hands on the table: “Can you break-dance fight??”

Evil party so far: An eco-terrorist, a grown-up child soldier, an identity-stealing con artist, a warlock who lapses into murderous semi-conscious when she levels up and sacrifices someone to her patron, and a vampire dentist who is literally the only nice one.

Bagelby’s Player: “Label has absolutely sold his soul to the Sunfell Cult.”

At least two of these back-up characters are aligned to an Archfey who’s a sworn nemesis of the Taker of the Lost purely bc he’s been accidentally encroaching on their territory for the past two years.

Asahi’s Player can’t get her voice-chat working, so she typed all of her moves tonight.

Bagelby: “I don’t think we should kill Drokk. Maybe he can change?”

The rest of the party, laughing: “No.”

Asahi cast Thunderwave in the middle of battle, not realizing that everyone was basically crowded on top of each other.

I’m side-eying every ‘nat 20’ Thiori’s Player rolls now SO HARD  and I don’t like this feeling

Most of the party failed the Con save, but nobody fell off (thank Skaadi).

“Your fists may miss their mark, but your words do not; you give a scathing critique of his social policy.”

The instant I tried to lay down some restrictions on Thiori’s actions without being blatant (why are you swinging a 10ft glaive over your head all fancy like when everyone’s crowded in the same 6-10ft tornado?!) his player began to rules lawyer me in my own damn campaign holy HECK do I hate this feeling

Bagelby: “I’m gonna send Pedro into the fray-“

The party: “THE RETURN OF PEDRO!”

Sir Carl Jaeger’s crow/raccoon griffon lost an eye to Marrow-Eater.

Bagelby cast True Strike on Drokk in preparation to put him in time out with the Time Out Knife, and learned both his and Marrow-Eater’s current HP and AC.

I should not be dreading Thiori’s turn like this.

Me: “You have….four rounds of falling before you hit the lake.”

Thiori’s Player: “Well actually-“

“For health insurance, that griffon will do anything for you.”

For story reasons, Drokk needs to live, so on his turn, Marrow-Eater broke away from the party and flew out over the lake.

August got an attack of opportunity and managed to chop of his pinky finger, which Ena promptly caught with Mage Hand bc we can’t go a single session without collecting body parts.

“…and now you have a bloody Orc pinky finger.”

I now ship Thiori’s griffon and Sir Carl Jaeger’s griffon.

SnowWing has no interest in taking the egg August has, so August is keeping it (despite also making a valiant effort to tame SnowWing for herself).

Two of the Rookery guards the party curb stomped were waiting for them when they all landed, purely because I needed someone else there to properly put away all the griffon gear and push along some very, VERY back burner story elements.

Bagelby: “Hello, Chain Mail Jock Strap Man! My name is Bagelby, and I’m from the Feywilds!”

Sir Carl Jaeger: “…..hello.”

At last! Proper introductions to Sir Carl Jaeger!!

Sir Carl Jaeger asked all the important questions, like “what are your goals here?”, “what brought you to the city?”. I love him.”

August and Asahi both recognize the symbol of SCJ’s family, due to their own noble connections and relations.

The party all went out to meet up with Vashael, and immediately began initiating Sir Carl Jaeger into the prince hazing tradition.

Ena’s Player: *makes a joke about Michael topping Vashael*

Me: *not answering*

Ena’s Player: wait wAIT DOES HE??

Thiori’s Player wanted to drop a keg-sized molotov cocktail on the next target, and until Ena’s Player spoke up to tell him “NO THERE’S CIVILIANS IN THERE” I was watching all my plans for a semi-stealth mission go up in flames.

Thiori then fell off the dragon bus bc he was too busy making a molotov cocktail to hold on, though he managed to hold on to Vashael’s leg.

Ena also fell off the dragon bus, but managed to hold on to Thiori’s leg.

Bagelby, who fell of the dragon bus two times last session, held on the best.

We wrapped up with Vashael flying through the smokescreen of the burning city towards the mayor’s house. We’ll pick up again next week, and see what becomes of my stealth mission!

#OOC #Quarantine D&D #((I chickened out)) #((I said one petty thing and immediately felt bad)) #((and we're back to square one))

[popopretty]

Storm Bringer Spoilers (8)

I said I would translate this part earlier and the last week has been a busy one but it’s finally here. This is the part in CODE;03 (I guess) where Shirase finally got over his fear and risked his life to help Chuuya when Chuuya was fighting the skeleton that is supposed to be his “original” (I said so because we never know if it actually is the original or not). For a boy like Shirase with no special power, to throw himself into a battle like that for someone is a really beautiful thing to me. Their interactions here are so precious too. I couldn’t help smiling when I was translating it. I hope you enjoy it too and have a great weekend.

Feel free to retranslate it if you want. Just remember that I don’t speak either Japanese or English as my first language so there might be some mistakes or imperfectionness in this translation.

...

Hey, hey! 

Hey, hey, come on! What the hell is that? A skeleton? Are you kidding me?

Shirase rubbed his own eyes. That was not an illusion. The surrounding scenery was distorted. The abnormality of the gravitational field left the surrounding gravel floating in the air. 

In other words, the gravitational skill is being activated over there. In other words, Chuuya is over there. 

Too frightened, Shirase almost dropped the clothes bag that he was holding with his two hands. He held it back in a fluster. That was a clothes bag, however inside it was not clothes. It was a bag of stolen items. On his way to find an escape route, he entered a research facility and went gold hunting. After all, neither the securities nor the researchers were out. On top of that, in the research facility, there were a lot of jewels used for laser transmitters, high-speed computing terminals and a lot of other things that could be worth a fortune if sold. 

Shirase thought. These things will surely be burnt down to destroy the evidences anyway. If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be of better help for people if we use it as a foundation to rebuild “The Sheep”, and let it be reborn as military money? I’m such a genius. He was thinking so as he got lost during his looting.

Then he wandered into this room. 

Shirase looked around restlessly. There was no sign of anyone other than Chuuya and the skeleton. Apparently they were fighting each other. He could catch a glance of the pained expression on Chuuya’s face. 

“Chuuya!” Reflexively, he ran forward, but stopped himself in panic. 

What am I doing? If I go to such a place, I will die. There is a limit to how foolish you can be to get involved in the fight between two monsters. I’m not that stupid. I act wisely and firmly. That’s how I have survived until now. 

Fighting is Chuuya’s job. Getting hurt is Chuuya’s job. Engraving our terror onto the enemies is also Chuuya’s job. And we handle everything else. That’s obvious. That guy has power. It’s only natural that he has to fulfil that responsibility.

But Chuuya today is weaker than ever. 

The Chuuya who is fighting right now has wounds all over his body. He has never seen Chuuya like that. He looks just like a boy of his age. 

No, not “just like”. Chuuya IS a boy of his age. Shirase suddenly realized that. 

... 

But still...

Still, it has nothing to do with me!

“Like I care! I am running away. Alone or not! You guys can do whatever you want about those war weapons or the truths of those special skills! I simply want to live a happy live!”

Shirase held his stuff carefully, turned his back and start walking away, as if he was carving each of his long steps into the ground.

***

The weight from the skeleton increased. In addition to the sound of their bones creaking against each other, there was another lower, heavier sound, probably the sound of the floor’s foundation being bent. If it were an ordinary human’s body, it would have become one with the floor long ago. 

“Stop...”, Chuuya spoke with his lungs being crushed as if he was whispering. “You are me...” 

There was a hint of hesitation shining in his eyes. 

The chin of the skeleton made a sound. The eye sockets carrying no lights at all were staring down at Chuuya. There was no emotions there. There was nothing. A complete void. 

From those eye sockets, from that nothingness, Chuuya heard something. Maybe it was just his imagination. But he couldn’t stop one word from popping up inside his brain. A meaningless word that seemed to be coming out from those white bones. 

”You were supposed to be like this."

“You are... me.” Chuuya said, glaring at the skeleton that had drifted so far from humanity, unaware of what he himself was saying. “If that’s the case, who in the world am I...?” 

The gravity got even stronger. The face of the skeleton which looked like death itself drew closer in front of his eyes. At that moment, someone shouted. 

“Ahhhhhhhhh!!” 

Someone just threw themselves at the skeleton and sent it flying to the side. The skeleton and that person rolled on the floor together. Chuuya opened his eyes wide. He knew the person. 

“Shirase...?” 

Shirase, who just rolled over, stood up and screamed in a squeaky, inarticulate voice. The skeleton that was using up all of its gravity to push down on Chuuya, was powerless to the attack from the side. Its elbow bone was dislocated from the impact. But that had little effects on its movements. It opened its jaw, trying to bite Shirase to death.

Shirase raised his clothes bag, which the skeleton bit right into. There were sounds of high-value jewels and electronic devices breaking inside, but the hardness of jewels had won against that of bones and iron. The lower jaw of the skeleton cracked vertically.

“Stupid Shirase! Run!” 

“Aaaaaaaa!!” 

Shirase shook his two arms with his eyes closed. His arms accidentally got caught in a transfusion tube connected to the skeleton’s spines. The tube came off and a black and blue chemical solution spilled out from inside. The skeleton suddenly tilted and stopped moving for a few seconds.

Chuuya noticed that. He screamed, “Shirase! Pull out those cables! All of them!”. 

Shirase was still waving his arms around incomprehensibly but after a short pause, he came to understand the meaning of that instruction. He rolled around, covered in chemicals, and grabbed all the cords and tubes that were dragging around like tails. He pulled them in and pulled out everything at once.

The bundle of cables leading to the next room were pulled out of the skeleton’s spine. 

The skeleton let out a scream. A body made out of bones only does not have a vocal organ. Its throat cannot vibrate to scream. That was the sound of gravity and the vanishing power of the skills that shook the bones and resonated like a musical instrument. It was the resonant sound of a scream that can take your soul away.

It sounded like a young boy crying in agony on the verge of death.

Eventually, the skeleton that had lost its instruction system and its source of energy supplies fell to the floor headfirst, breaking at its waist. Losing the gravity that was keeping its body together physically, it crumbled into pieces. Furthermore, the cracks from the attacks stared spreading through its body and it ended up breaking into countless fragments before vanishing.

 And just like that, the skeleton disappeared. Like nothing was ever there from the beginning. 

Chuuya was watching over it in shock, before he finally stood up. 

“Shirase.” 

Chuuya looked at Shirase while holding his side. 

“What?” 

Chuuya stared at Shirase as if he was trying to say something. He looked at Shirase who was covered in dirt, mud and the black and blue chemicals for a few seconds, then said.

“You look hella dirty now.” 

“Shut up!” 

Chuuya held out his hand. Shirase grabbed that hand and got up. 

“Let’s go. We need to meet up with Adam first.” 

“’kay.” 

Shirase and Chuuya walked alongside each other. Shirase took a quick glance at Chuuya. He was covered in wounds, dirt and blood. There were countless bruises and his side was still bleeding.

“Hey Chuuya.” 

Chuuya turned around. Shirase’s expression showed that there was something he had to say, something he had to apologize for. 

Chuuya waited silently. Then Shirase said. 

“You look hella dirty right now.”

Chuuya laughed with his eyes downcast, “Shut up!”.

....

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #storm bringer #spoilers #bsd spoilers #shirase #nakahara chuuya

[tittytania]

Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.

#sotha sil #tes #the elder scrolls #tesblr #vivec #almalexia #morrowind #elder scrolls online #eso #lord seht

[a-writer]

Driver’s License - c.b.

Of course i needed to write something inspired in driver’s license cause i can’t stop thinking about it! Hope you enjoy xx

Colby Brock x reader

Warnings: angst, sad

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

You still remember the day you met Colby. It was spring and the sun was shining bright. You were having a very nice day, until your best friend convinced you to drive her car, even though you didn’t have your driver's license yet.

“C’mon, just to practice!”

You agreed. Dumb decision. You were doing fine until, accidentally, you crashed into another car. A red, old toyota. Both you and your best friend were okay, it was a very small crash, a little bump on the side. Neither one of you knew what to do and then someone knocked on your window. You completely froze when you saw a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring at you angrily.  Long story short, you ended up crying your ass off begging him not to call the police because you were driving without a license. He seemed angry at first, but surprisingly he agreed not to call the police on you and just asked you one thing in return for your accident: your number.

One month later, Colby and you were dating and were the happiest couple. You never got your driver's license. You don’t remember when things started to go wrong, you just remember how Colby started to avoid you. He didn’t call, didn’t text. You finally confronted him, asked him if he was cheating and he completely denied it. But he said he needed some time. He promised you two would get back together, because he loved you. But he said he needed to get off his mind and put his priorities in order. It hurted like hell. But you accepted, cause you were going to be back together, right?

After nine months of love, you’re alone in your room. You finally got your driver’s license and you immediately thought about him. Colby used to tease you all the time and now he wasn’t around anymore.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

You saw all the posts and stories on instagram. You saw Colby next to that blonde girl all the time. And it hurt to know that the girl you spent all your relationship worried about was where you used to be. You feel a pain in your chest just thinking about it, how his arms are hugging her, his lips are kissing her, his mouth is saying her name, his hands are holding her hands. You know you can’t blame her, but it is so difficult.

You try not to think about it too much, but social media keeps reminding you of the adventures they are living together. Your head tells you to stop looking and overthinking, tells you to stop loving him because he lied. But your heart just wishes for one more taste of his lips. And you know that you just can’t move on, not for now, cause the love you feel for him is just too much.

And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

On your first date after the car accident, Colby took you to an amazing viewpoint where you could see all the silhouettes of the buildings in LA. It was beautiful, but you don’t remember the view that much. You just remember his blue eyes staring deeply in your soul and how much you wanted to kiss him, even though you didn’t know him that well. But you both wanted it so bad, it ended up happening. Things with Colby went so fast, it seemed unbelievable. But you felt like you had been friends for years.

It was impossible not to love him, even through your ups and downs. You fought, like all couples do. Especially because of the pressure of the fans, but you always got through it. Now you were completely broken, to the point that you even missed the fights. He seemed fine, at least that’s the image that you got from looking on his instagram.

You never told anyone, but the first day you got your driver’s license you drove up to his house at night. You cried until there were no tears left and then your heart turned black and cold, and even though you still loved him to death, you started to feel an anger towards him building inside of you.

He lied, he said he loved you, he said he would come back to you. The wind took the words away and he left you alone.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

And pictured I was driving home to you

You still talked to Sam sometimes, but you started to lose the relationship with him too. Katrina would still check up on you sometimes and you tried to not make it super obvious how much you wanted to know about Colby, but she knew. You could feel how sorry she felt for you and how bad she didn’t want you to ask for him, but it seemed like the only thing you could talk about was Colby. He was not your business, and both you and Kat knew that. Still, she always tried to be nice, she told you how she thought he was super sad. But deep down, you knew it was a lie to make you feel better.

And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You knew too well. He was enjoying life with that blonde girl. He was happy without you and that was what hurt the most. You tried so hard to hate him, but it was impossible. Your heart belonged to him, it had his name tattooed with fire.

You wanted to reverse the situation and you went on dates with other guys. But you couldn’t stop comparing them to Colby, searching for all the flaws they had that Colby didn’t, thinking about how Colby did everything better. You felt like you were going crazy, that you would never get over him, so you unfollowed him on instagram and twitter, you removed his number from your phone and all your photos together. You threw away every little thing that reminded you of him in your house and you decided to start a new life.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

It had been five months since Colby asked you to give him some time. You knew he was a 100% with the blonde girl and you still had a hard time understanding how he could do it so fast. For the first time in those five months, you decided to go to this little grocery shop where they sold italian products that you always used to go to together.

You just wanted to make a good pizza, but the universe had other plans for you, because while you were looking for your favourite type of cheese, a familiar voice called your name. You froze in the spot, you recognized it immediately. The voice called your name again and you turned around. There he was, standing right in front of you with a shy smile and his damned blue eyes staring deep into your soul.

“(Y/N), hi. It’s been quite some time.” His voice sounded the same and you couldn’t avoid the butterflies you felt on your stomach.

“Hey, Colby.” Your voice sounded more high pitched than how you’d like.

“You look good”. Your cheeks turned red when the word left his mouth and he smirked.

“You too.” An awkward silence arose between the two of you. “I’ve gotta go.”

You tried to walk away but his hand grabbed your arm and you turned to look at him surprised.

“I’m sorry” He blurted out the words without thinking.

You looked down, your eyes filling with water. Taking a deep breath, you looked back at him, holding onto your strength.

“Me too, Colby.” It physically pained you to say his name again and you could see the sadness in his eyes, too.

You tried to run away, but his hand was still holding your arm. You mentally kicked yourself for coming here, you should have stayed home and ordered a pizza. It would have been way better than this. You tried to speak again, but suddenly you felt a pair of lips on yours. You were surprised at first, but the feeling was so familiar that you couldn’t help melt into the kiss.

After five months, feeling Colby’s hands on your body felt heavenly. He kissed every inch of your skin and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The feeling of him on top of you, the feeling of him inside of you, felt so good that it was almost like a dream. You went to sleep with his arms around you, hugging you tightly, and it felt like home.

You woke up alone. At first you thought it was impossible. You could still smell his cologne, but his side of the bed was cold. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. Of course this was going to happen, of course he saw the opportunity to fuck you and used you. You ended up spending the whole day crying in your bed, the feeling of his hands caressing you still present.

He lied to you twice. He saw that you were vulnerable and took advantage of that. He said how much he’d miss you, how much he’d wanted you and then he left without saying anything. And after all that, you still loved him.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic

We're laughing over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fucking love you, babe

It had been one month since that night. You cut off everyone that had to do something with Colby from your life, even Kat. It hurt you, but you knew you needed to do it. Now you were okay. At least better. A part of you still loved him, but everyday a little less.

You were aware that Kat tried to get in contact with you, but you never responded. And you knew that eventually she would understand. She sent you direct messages in all your social media begging to answer her calls, to talk to her. One night you did.

“(Y/N)? Omg, finally!! I missed you, i’m so sorry”. Kat sounded desperate.

“Kat, it’s okay. I’m sorry I cut you off… I just needed some time.”

“I completely get that, just please don’t do it again.” You laughed at her words. “(Y/N)... I actually wanted to call you because I’m worried. Sam is too.” You did not respond, you already knew who she was talking about.

There were some seconds of silence and Kat took that as a sign to keep speaking.

“It’s Colby.” Well, duh. “We’re worried about him. You saw him, right? Like a month ago?”

“Yes” Your voice was quiet, but Kat could hear you perfectly.

“I knew it. Look, I don’t know what happened, but I can imagine. He’s been a mess ever since. Sam told me that he came home at like seven in the morning and immediately sent a text to…” Kat stopped.

“You can say it.”

“To her girlfriend at the time.” You felt your chest tighten but you ignored it. “He broke up with her. I think it was because whatever happened with you that night. The thing is that he has spent most of the last month alone in his room. When he’s out he’s always drunk and he’s not taking anything seriously. Not even his job, (Y/N). We’re worried about him.”

“Kat, I… I understand that you’re worried, but that’s not my business anymore. He lied to me, he used me and then he never talked to me again. I get it, he’s having a hard time. But I’ve been suffering because of him during all these past months. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do anything about it. I’m sorry, Kat.”

Before she could say another word, you hung up.

I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation with Kat. It had been a month when she texted you inviting you over to a party. You declined the invitation, but she told you that Colby was much better and that he agreed on not even talking to you if you didn’t want to. You still said no. Kat begged you, she offered to be by your side during the whole night. She said she was missing you too much. Finally, you gave up.

When you arrived the party was already started, the music blasting and people dancing. Kat was waiting for you on the door, she grabbed you by the arm and she promised that she wouldn’t leave your side. You smiled politely and took the shot she offered you.

Hours passed by and you had to go to the bathroom. Sam offered you to go to the one in his room and you agreed. Going up the stairs the music turned lower and you breathed deeply, already kinda tired. You were about to go into Sam’s room when you heard the door behind you opening. You froze, what a surprise.

“(Y/N)?” That. fucking. voice.

You turned around with your best smile plastered on your face.

“Hello, Colby.”

“How are you?” You didn’t respond, the room filling with awkward silence, one more time. “I actually wanted to tell you that I’m really so-”

You cut him off.

“Save it, Colby.” He seemed surprised. “I’m done with your bullshit. In fact, I’m done with you. You hurt me and I’m just trying to heal and live my life. So please, leave me alone.” You tried to leave quickly.

“(Y/N), wait!” He grabbed your arm and you kept having flashbacks to the last time you found yourself in this position. “I’m sorry, okay. I know I fucked us up. But you can’t tell me that bullshit.” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, (Y/N).” His face was inches away from you and you could smell the alcohol on his mouth. “You’re really going to tell me that you didn’t come to this party expecting to bump into me? You’re going to tell me that right now you’re not dying to kiss me?”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him badly. But that was not an option, not tonight.

“Fuck you, Colby.”

You slapped his hand away from your body and ran downstairs. You went to your car directly and drove home. You couldn’t help the tears coming down your face when you arrived home. He was an asshole, a liar and an egotistical fuck.

And the saddest thing was that you were still completely in love with him.

#colby #colby brock #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader #colby brock angst #Sam and Colby #snc #25x25 #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #imagine #imagines #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby imagines #angst imagine #angst imagines

[stubbychaos]

A Dishonest Woman

Chapter 9 of Saviin’ika

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8

Masterlist Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Paz is determined to have the one that has caused you so much pain to kneel for you, though you’re surprised to find another begging for forgiveness at your feet after all is said and done and blood has been shed.

Rating: M

Word Count: 12,700

Warnings: There’s some pretty intense injuries and mentions of having to pop bones back into place, as well as blood and stitches. There’s also brief mentions of the aftermath of the sexual assault attempt.

Just a quick mention as well: I wanted to thank @lackofhonor for giving me the inspiration for a cute little idea for this chapter about the other Mandos being mischievous :) Also thank you to @datmando​ for always letting me scream at you about all my chaotic ideas <3

Author’s note will be at the end, but one last thank you to @coredrive​ for blessing all of us with that beautiful gifset of Paz!!

You nearly cry the second you see Paz inch the bounty hunter’s helmet upwards to the point where the tip of a scruffy tan chin is revealed. 

Horror fills your heart and soul at the thought of watching a Mandalorian’s helmet be removed. 

You jolt forward, but Ima is quick to wrap her arms around your waist, effectively stopping you from accidentally getting hurt and even though you feel a pain shoot up your side from your cauterized wound, it doesn’t stop you from screaming out right before the helmet is just below his bottom lip.

“Paz!”

Immediately, the room is cast in silence and even though you should feel terrified at the fact that dozens of t-shaped visors are now pointed in your direction, you can only focus on the way Paz lets go of the bounty hunter, not even realizing you had been watching the entire fight. Immediately, the unconscious man slips to the ground with a loud ringing noise that has you cringing as you try to wriggle desperately against Ima’s tight hold. Everyone’s visor watches you struggle feebly against the young warrior and she hisses at you desperately to stop--that it is dishonorable to interrupt such a battle.

You gasp when Paz easily flips the bounty hunter over onto his back, pressing his boot harshly against his cuirass and you panic as you listen to the hunter’s gurgling noises from underneath where the lip of his helmet is still miraculously resting on his chin.

“Tell her you’re sorry, Djarin!” Paz roars, circling around him like a predator taunting its prey and your shoulders hunch up a little, “Maybe I’ll give her your helmet when I’m finished with you--bet she could sell that for a lot more than five hundred credits. How much is that shiny Beskar worth? Probably far more than the pathetic price put on her head.”

When he doesn’t respond, Paz sends a mighty kick to the hunter’s ribs--one similar to what he had dealt to your father--and you let out a small whimper and turn your head up to colorful Mandalorian, emphasizing the contempt in your voice as much as you possibly can.

“If you don’t let me go, I won’t ever look at you or Paz the same again.”

Ima doesn’t say anything and you seize up when you watch Paz produce a vibroblade.

The blade that had been taken from you the night before after slaying the trandoshan.

“Do you realize what you made her do with this?”

The bounty hunter remains lifeless as Ima stares down at you and fear grips your heart so tightly when you hear the young Mandalorian groaning from the intense pain. He doesn’t even attempt to choke out pathetic little apologies and you’re certain he must be unconscious underneath that scorching hot helmet.

“Please,” You beg her, a tear trickling down your cheek as you think of someone having their life ruined just because of you, “I am supposed to help those who are hurt, not watch them suffer.”

Angrily, Paz tosses the blade onto the floor, seeming to prefer to use his hands to inflict pain and it makes everything seem far more personal, considering weapons were supposed to be a part of his religion.

“What?” Paz grabs him by his cowl to bring him to his knees, though he’s slumped forward in a weak position; you squeeze your eyes shut and recoil when your warrior all but picks him up and slams him into the slim steel bars on the side of the forge, “Can’t handle a little pain, vod’ika? She seemed to handle it just fine when you were delivering her to her death! Managed to even fight back against the one you sold her to, you fucking coward--you’re not even going to try to fight me?”

The bounty hunter is lifelessly propped up against the forge.

Finally, Ima lets out a deep sigh and reluctantly lets go of you.

Immediately you surge forward, not caring there’s a possibility that you can get hurt in the intense altercation.

You cry out Paz’s name again when he sends a harsh blow to the side of the bounty hunter’s helmet with a powerful swing of his huge, heavy gauntlet and you are quick to stop him in his attempt to further hurt the bounty hunter.

He pulls his arm to the side and back, ready to deliver another heavy hit to the bounty hunter’s helmet and you quickly latch onto the big yellow gauntlet, careful not to press any buttons so you don’t incinerate yourself or anyone else with his flamethrower. You feel the way he instantly stops himself from swinging his huge appendage forward, perhaps out of fear of hurting you and his helmet quickly snaps to the side to look at your teary eyes that barely poke over his bicep. 

He could easily shove you out of the way, and even though you just watched the damage he inflicted on one of his own, you still trust him not to hurt you.

But you will not let him do this--you refuse.

“What are you--?”

“I would not let you put him through anymore,” You plead in a desperate, hushed whisper, trying to keep your conversation private from the others, though you’re certain they all hear it, “I would not let you put him through the same pain that I have gone through--of losing his family.”

Paz doesn’t even move an inch or say a word, but he allows you to put yourself between him and the bounty hunter and simply stares at you; you’re certain if you were anyone else, you would have been dead the second you challenged him. 

You’re not just anyone though and you finally understand that.

You’re the one he had confessed his love to only the night before and had trusted enough to bring to his tribe; you were the one that he had taken his helmet off for, even if it was in the darkness of a safe place. While you understood that his anger came from a place of intense pain from nearly losing the one he loved, you could not just stand by and watch while he made that sort of decision for you, not when you couldn’t mentally handle watching someone have their life taken from them so soon after the Trandoshan incident.

No, even though Paz so desperately wanted his revenge, it suddenly did not feel like his duty to seek vengeance for you when you were still alive.

“Please Paz,” You crouch down next to the bounty hunter, pressing your fingers to his neck to check for a pulse point to make sure he’s not actually dead, “I think he has endured enough punishment, don’t you?”

“No, I fucking don’t think he’s learned his lesson! What he did to you was unforgivable!” Paz seethes and you let out a little sigh of relief when you finally detect a steady pulse, though Paz’s thunderous voice has you on edge, “You’re really going to let this go so easily?!”

He’s never raised his voice with you and even though you can tell it’s most likely from the adrenaline, you feel your worry slowly give way to anger.

“Please, do not yell at me,” You whip your head to give him an incredulous glare over your shoulder and you hear some of the others murmur to one another as Paz takes a small step back, though he is quick to compose himself, “I did not say I forgive him, but I do not wish to see any more bloodshed because of me, Mandalorian. I know what he did--I was there.”

“Then why won’t you let me make him apologize to you?” He hisses in a low voice, watching as you inspect his dislocated shoulder with great tenderness, “He doesn’t deserve your help when he showed you no such courtesy.”

“Because I am a nurse and it is my job to help others, Paz. He is your family and even if you or I do not like him right now, I do not wish for one of your own to die when I could have saved them,” You turn to face him once again, your brows pinched together in frustration you’ve never felt towards your blue warrior and you hate the fact that you’re even arguing with him over the bounty hunter in the first place, “If he is to apologize to me, I want it to be because he truly feels sorry for what he did, not because you beat him within an inch of his life. Now please, would you help me take him to… wherever it is the wounded are treated here?”

Paz is frozen to his spot and it feels like you’re staring each other down for eternity, everyone else watching the silent interaction with what you’re sure is curiosity and shock that their heavy-infantry warrior is letting his little nurse talk to him in such a way. You realize suddenly how stubborn this man can be--even towards you--and for some reason that only makes your irritation grow as you think of how soft and easy-going he had been with you the previous night when it had just been the two of you.

Is he doing this because he’s afraid of looking like a pushover in front of his tribe?

“He didn’t even want you here,” Paz eventually sneers, pointing his thumb and index finger in the unconscious man’s direction, choosing to argue even more with you and you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach, “He is the reason why I was fighting so hard for you to be a part of the tribe in the first place! You think the one who was so insistent on not having you here is suddenly worthy of being tended to by you? While you were suffering, he was planning your death and I was begging for your place in the tribe.”

“I’ve been suffering my whole life, Paz,” You remind him with an angry lilt in your voice, lightly tapping the bounty hunter’s helmet in an attempt to wake him, though he simply offers you a garbled noise in response, “This is no different than anything else I’ve been through, okay? Just let me take care of his injuries and then the three of us can talk it out and--”

Then he says your name in the most contemptuous tone you’ve ever heard from him and ice pumps through your veins at his next words.

“Sometimes, I think you are too fucking soft for your own good.”

You immediately freeze, staring up at him in shock as you register the warrior’s bitter tone and you don’t even know what to say or how to process the intense pain and sadness that threatens to overwhelm you like a raging tidal wave.

You think of what he had said upon admitting his love for you the first time, how he had spoken sweet words of the way he admired how compassionate and soft you were--how utterly devoted he had sounded--and you begin to doubt yourself.

“And what would you do when he grows tired of you?”

You remember your father’s cruel words and tears instantly fill your eyes at the fact that you’re letting him get to you in a place where Paz had promised you’d be safe from him and you hear the other Mandalorians murmurs grow more tense. They must be admonishing you for talking back to such a powerful member of their tribe, but you suddenly don’t care what they think and hastily wipe away a tear that slips down your cheek, shaking off Paz’s unusually bitter words.

But you can’t shake it off, you realize, as your bottom lip quivers as his words hang over your heart heavier than what his Beskar must weigh down on his own shoulders.

Paz immediately seems to forget his anger towards the bounty hunter, his shoulders falling a little as he hears yours sniffles when you turn back towards the unconscious man at your feet, your hands now shaking.

Anger and confusion swells deep within you as you keep thinking of your estranged father’s words, leaning lower to grab the bounty hunter’s uninjured arm to tug it around your shoulders; you want to cry harder as you try to stand up and support his weight, though he is far too heavy for you to lift. You hear Paz step forward, but then you also hear Imalia’s hushed, angry voice, followed by hasty little footsteps making their way over to you.

“Go cool down somewhere else, I’ll take care of this, di’kut,” Ima says in a firm voice, crouching down next to you as she wraps her arms around the bounty hunter’s waist and helps you haul him to his feet. You’re too angry and upset to admire the physical strength this teenage girl has and a part of you is half tempted to ask if she can knock some sense into your blue warrior.

Paz is staring right at you as you risk a glance up in his direction as you and Imalia guide the unconscious bounty hunter to the tribe’s infirmary and you hate that he’s refusing to say anything to you, so for once, you speak up first.

“You are not a cruel man,” You whisper fiercely to him, clenching your jaw a little when you notice his tight fists unfurl as he sees your tears burning your eyes like lit coals, “And I do not believe you to be one, but I do not like seeing this side of you and I pray I did not make a mistake coming here if this is how I am to be treated by you in front of your sisters and brothers.” 

“Saviin’ika, I shouldn’t have--”

“Do not call me that, right now!” You snap with a shaky cry, earning a few more murmurs from his armored family, and you watch as Paz recoils from how upset and raw you suddenly sound, “I am not some sort of punching bag or target used for practice, Mandalorian, and I am sick and tired of being used as one. I would not let you tear someone away from their family--the ones he loves--because of me!” You argue fiercely, hating that you have to force yourself not to flinch upon hearing the bounty hunter’s pained groans as his scorching helmet slips to the side and onto your shoulder, “I may love you, but I refuse to watch you ruin this man’s life because he made a foolish mistake. Shouldn’t this be my choice?”

“But--”

“Are you even listening to what she’s trying to say?” Imalia is quick to snap at him as well, not holding back nearly as much as you did, “This isn’t your fight to fight, okay?! Saviin is right, if he’s going to apologize to her, he should do it because he genuinely means it.”

“And how do you know he will apologize in the first place?”

Everyone stares at you, but you’re still focused on Paz and how tense he is as he listens to Ima’s insistent voice, “Because, Saviin is the reason why he still has his helmet and his family, despite the fact that he nearly took everything from her; only a demagolka would not say sorry to her. Trust me, he will apologize upon hearing that she protected him from losing so much. Please, just go cool down Uncle, you’re not thinking right.”

Then Ima lowers her tone a little, sounding softer when she realizes you still have tears in your eyes, “Mirdir be pehea gar kelir sirbur Ni ceta at kaysh.”

Even though he’s tried to keep his composure in front of his people, you instantly see the way his shoulders slump completely and his helmet drops at the soft bite in the young Mandalorian’s hushed words as you and her continue forward, the Beskar sea of huge Mandalorians parting to let the three of you through. The bounty hunter mumbles incoherent statements as Imalia tells you which way to turn your body and you think that he’s most certainly concussed by the way he slurs his sentences.

You pray that they have bacta.

“I’m sure it is not as fancy or professional as what you’re used to, but this is our little infirmary. It hasn’t been used in a long time, but I’m sure you could spruce it up a little,” Ima sighs and grunts as she gracelessly flops the Mandalorian onto a creaky cot upon entering a little alcove, though you find it not too terribly different than your own tiny office at the village infirmary except for the fact that everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, “I am not sure if you are able to help him too much or if you even want to, but--”

“Can you find me whatever medical supplies your tribe may have?” You cut off her sheepish ranting, not hesitating to remove the Mandalorian’s pauldrons, utility belt, and cuirass as you inspect the severity of his dislocated shoulder and a deep gash that Paz had managed to inflict upon his lower abdomen, “Tools for sutures, bacta patches or shots, disinfectant--things like that? Soapy rags and perhaps a bowl of warm water?”

Ima immediately grows silent and you’re surprised by the teenager’s willingness to help you as you turn away to wash any germs from your hands with hot water, not allowing your blue warrior’s harsh words to get the best of your nerves. Immediately, you’re pulling drawers open, gathering whatever antibiotics and disinfectants you can find, thinking that this Mandalorian probably needs whatever he can get after taking such a beating from Paz.

“Goodness,” You sigh, shoulders falling as you inspect the deep gash that is just stretched along his left hip and you shake your head a little as you think of the wound he’d forced you to cauterize as Ima hastily approaches you with what looks to be an unused suture kit.

“Your name… it’s Din Djarin, right?” You question quietly, not even sure if he’s fully conscious or if he’s completely gone as Imalia approaches you with a metal tray with several supplies lying on top; immediately, you perk up when you see a tiny bottle filled with bacta and a syringe. She watches in silence as you are hasty and efficient to fill the syringe with the miracle substance, stabbing the long needle somewhere underneath his helmet, near the base of his skull to hopefully help with whatever brain trauma he’s experiencing.

“You--” The bounty hunter is slurring his words as he attempts to sit up on the little cot, though Ima is quick to force him back down with a steady hand against his chest while you get to work on untucking his dark tunics from his pants so you can get a better look at the damage, “Y-You’re helping me?”

You don’t say anything as Ima hands you a warm wet rag to clean the blood away from his skin and you lean in a little closer to make sure there’s no debris in the wound or that it doesn’t already look infected. You gracefully begin the process of stitching his severe wound at his tanned abdomen, earning small grunts and groans from the young bounty hunter who is clearly uncomfortable in his current position, though he seems more coherent and aware of his surroundings. Ima remains behind you and a part of you wonders why, if she’s worried the bounty hunter is going to try something with you or if she’s simply fascinated by simple medical procedures.

“Are you bleeding under there?” You ask the injured man quietly, referring to his shiny helmet that you think must still be scorching hot; he continues to stare up at the ceiling and you hope he hasn’t passed out again, fearing what kind of damage Paz might have caused to his brain. He could be on the verge of death and you wouldn’t even know, you realize with disdain, not liking that you can’t properly treat your patient.

“Even if I was, I wouldn’t let you take my helmet off, outsider.”

You scoff and shake your head, though Ima is diligent and hasty to admonish the hunter, “I do not think you are in any position to be giving our nurse any attitude, not after she stood up for you in front of nearly the whole tribe.”

Finally, he rolls his helmet to the side to peer down at your hunched over form as you take your time to stitch the deep wound, “Stood up for me?”

“Yeah, di’kut,” Ima huffs and you hear her shift around behind you, “Uncle Paz was about to take your stupid helmet off and saviin’ika stopped him right before he could, even defended what little honor you still possess; she even got in a fight with uncle over you. I don’t think you really deserved her mercy since you didn’t even want her here in the first place--since you sold her for five hundred credits.”

Your cheeks flare up and you shake your head a little, trying to think of your life being worth more than a pouch of credits.

He’s quiet for a few thoughtful moments and he lets out with a pained grunt as you eventually finish stitching the wound, “Why?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and let out with a sad sigh as you clean the blood away from the bruised skin around the sutures, shaking your head a little, “I know what would happen if he would have removed your helmet, Mandalorian. You would have lost everything and everyone you love--those you call family--and I would not wish that upon my worst enemy.”

“But I--”

“I know what you did to me,” You scowl, plastering a large bandage to the stitches to protect it from any debris, “Trust me, I know, but I’ve also felt the loss and grief that comes from losing your loved ones. I lost my mother and… and someone so very dear to me when I was a little girl and that kind of pain is one that you never recover from.”

“I…” The bounty hunter seems to be at a loss for words and you think he must not know how to express his feelings with words nearly as well as Paz, “Thank you.”

You huff a little and urge him to lay down flat on his back so you can properly treat his dislocated shoulder, “Just because I understand your pain does not mean I would ever forget what you’ve done. I would only tolerate you for your family.”

You hear him groan a little as you place your hand just underneath his armpit and use the other to grab his wrist, lightly guiding his arm to the side and closer to you, “What are you doing?”

“I am popping your shoulder back into place,” You frown when he reaches out towards you with his uninjured arm, but he is quick to drop it upon seeing you flinch and Ima tensing up.

“I can do it myself,” He says stubbornly, though you simply keep your hands in place, your brows furrowing when he begins to undermine you, “That requires a lot of force to put it back into place and you don’t look like you can--”

With as much strength you can muster, you yank his arm harshly towards you until you hear the sickening pop of the head of his humerus slipping beyond the lip of his shoulder cup and you hate that you feel a little inkling of satisfaction when you hear his pained groans and erratic wheezing. You think of the several times you’ve had to pop your own shoulder back into place after taking a rough beating, and how excruciating the first time had been--how you had nearly passed out--and you wonder if this is the first time he has experienced such pain.

"I know how to do my job, Mandalorian," Your cheeks burning fiercely with irritation towards the man you stood up for, “I can’t say the same for you.”

Ima snorts her amusement from behind you as you fashion a sling using his cape, all while dealing with the fussy bounty hunter who you’re certain is struggling to not give you a piece of his mind.

“You could have at least done it slower so it wouldn’t be as painful.”

“I would say I am sorry and that I feel bad, but I am not a dishonest woman.”

You hear Ima wheezing behind you, struggling to contain her giggles, though she eventually loses the battle and lets out loud guffaws that have you shaking your own head with amusement.

Eventually, Imalia takes her leave when another Mandalorian enters the room to inform her that the armorer requires the teen’s presence, the larger warrior eyeing the way you’re hovering over the young bounty hunter with an irritated expression on your face before leaving the two of you alone. You’re in the process of stitching yet another smaller cut on the inside of his elbow that you had somehow missed during your lengthy inspection and you wonder just how long Paz had been fighting the bounty hunter before you showed up.

“I’m…” You barely tilt your head up at the sound of his raspy voice before turning back to your handiwork, thinking he’s going to say something rude or snarky, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth--for all the pain I’ve caused you and Paz.”

Your brows quirk up in response to the shock his words cast on you, though you shake it off and glance up at his visor for a quick second, “I don’t know if I can forgive you knowing that you knew what the Trandoshan wanted to do with me, but I appreciate the apology.”

He seems to relax a little and lets out with a crackly sigh as he continues to stare at your concentrated facial expression, “You mentioned your dress when I was taking you back in the speeder,” Instantly, you freeze at the way he speaks so nonchalantly about something that will haunt you forever, “Did he…?”

“N-No,” You murmur weakly, suddenly feeling nauseous as you struggle to not think of the harsh pressure of the Trandoshan’s hand groping you, “He uh--I s-stopped him before I… Paz’s blade.”

Even though you can barely string together a coherent sentence, the Mandalorian still manages to understand, “Does Paz know?”

“No,” You say a little more firmly, finishing up with tending to the minor wound and giving him a cursory glance, “And I plan to keep it that way.”

You find a bacta patch on the tray of items that Ima had left for you on the bedside table and carefully take it out of its plastic wrapper, placing it tenderly along the area on his ribs where Paz had kicked him.

He’s quiet as you help him fix his tunics and put his armor back in place, sheepishly holding out the pauldron that you advise for him to not wear on his bruised, swollen shoulder for at least a week, though you doubt the stubborn man will listen to you. You half expect him to get up and leave the room the moment you stand up and wash your hands in the little sink, though he simply lets out with another crackly sigh as he continues to lay on the cot that is much bigger than the one from your old office.

“He would not think of you any differently if you told him of the criminal’s intentions with you, if that’s why you’re afraid to tell him.”

You sigh, thinking of the words Paz had spewed at you earlier and you slowly plop back down on the chair as you reluctantly keep the bounty hunter company, crossing your arms over your chest, “Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay? Besides, it’s not like it matters, not when I got into a fight with him and yelled at him in front of his tribe. I disrespected him and I’ll probably be out of here by the end of the day.”

“You won’t--I’m sure of it,” He rasps in that cool tone, though there’s still a twinge of pain laced in his filtered voice as he lets out another deep sigh, “I know how he is, how he never really thinks with his head.”

“The same could be said for you as well,” You huff, earning an annoyed sigh from the bounty hunter, “Are you two actually brothers by blood?”

“No, and he made that clear the day I was brought into the tribe,” You tuck your cold hands between your thighs and tilt your head a little at the implications of his amused words, though one sticks out to you the most.

“You were a foundling.”

“Yes,” He grunts, almost seeming awkward and unknowing of how to hold a conversation with someone, “Paz was one of the first ones to talk to me--pretty much told me to stay out of his way. He was never kind to me, but he always made sure none of the others hurt me. He was an angry child, but eventually grew out of it. Still hotheaded like no other though.” 

You smile a little at that, remembering the first time you had met him and how you had thought the exact same thing, “I was scared of him when I first met him too.”

“I know--he came back to the covert and was beating himself up for making a bad first impression,” The bounty hunter scoffs, only continuing when you tuck a lock of hair behind your warm ear, “He always wanted to be the strongest in tribe and all he cared about was being the most powerful, but then one day he came back talking about the village nurse.”

You wonder why this bounty hunter is telling you all of this and before you can ask, he speaks calmly.

“I’ve never seen him more passionate about anything or anyone more than he is about you,” He grunts, almost sounding exasperated as he shakes his helmet a little, “Paz could talk about you for the longest time and I’m pretty sure he has with all the kids when the rest of us get tired of listening to him. He would not get rid of you and is probably kicking himself in the back of his helmet for whatever he said.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think of your usually grouchy warrior going to the covert after spending time with you, only to ramble to his family about you.

“How did you know that he was the one in the wrong? I thought you were unconscious.”

“I know Paz,” Din repeats, sounding utterly unamused as he shakes his helmet and stares up at the ceiling in a thoughtful silence for a few seconds, “I know how he gets when he’s mad and how he doesn’t think straight.”

You clench your jaw a little, still thinking of the pain lingering in your chest because of what your blue warrior had said to you in a fit of rage that had been a result of the bounty hunter.

“It still gave him no right,” You surmise, earning a small hum from Din, “And if he expects me to apologize so I can keep my place here, I refuse.”

You think over his words carefully for a few, the two of you growing silent and you think out of all the Mandalorians you’ve met, he must be the quietest out of all of them, most likely used to living a life of solitude because of his job. Then you think of the time Paz had told you the loneliness he felt during his own travels and you wonder if this Mandalorian feels the same, though you still find it difficult to pity him and you stare thoughtlessly at his shiny helmet. Your eyes burn as you think of this bounty hunter hearing the Trandoshan and all of his plans for you and your chest heaves as you think of the bounty hunter simply not caring.

“I need to know and please be honest,” You plead in a shaky whisper after a few minutes of awkward silence, earning his unwavering attention as his visor moves to stare at you, “Do you actually regret what you did? Or is it just because of me knowing Paz?”

“I…” He sounds conflicted as he shifts around in an uncomfortable manner, watching the way your eyes fill with tears at the thought of him so easily giving you away to someone so cruel, “I know I am a cruel man--much crueler than Paz--but you are the first quarry I’ve ever felt guilt for.”

Tears still burn your eyes and you are quick to rub them away before they can actually fall as you listen to the young bounty hunter try to collect his thoughts.

“I kept hearing your screams, that’s why I came back. I thought he would just leave your body after killing you, but then I saw you and you were just staring at Paz’s blade,” He admits with a frustrated sigh and you think this must be incredibly difficult for him to talk about, especially when he seems so out of tune and defiant towards feeling any emotion, only focused on his next paycheck with no regards for the lives and families he’s ruining.

“I knew right away who you were and…” He cuts himself off before he can reveal too much, turning his helmet to stare back up at the ceiling, “Paz talks a lot about you, but he always spoke of how you did not deserve to live a life in the village--that you were too kind. Most of my bounties are criminals, people who deserve to be imprisoned.”

For some reason, knowing that he came back because he felt bad, rather than suspecting you were associated with Paz eases the ache in your heart, though you find your nails curling painfully into the fabric covering your knees. You don’t trust him and he knows it, judging by the way he keeps his movements slow and his visor pointed away from your face, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t try to offer you comfort because you know it would not come from his heart.

“Paz was right--you were an easy target and that’s why I accepted the job,” The bounty hunter informs you and it only makes you feel worse, knowing that you’re constantly being targeted because others believe you to be so weak, “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t ever be the same because of you.”

He doesn’t say anything and you wonder if he even feels the slightest inclination or twinge of guilt. 

Then you wonder where Paz is, if he’s calmed down enough to talk to you about what’s going on in his mind and dread fills you at the thought of him still being upset with you; what if standing up for Din had ruined everything between you and the blue warrior?

Had this all really been worth it?

“I want to see Paz, but I don’t know this place,” You inform the bounty hunter weakly and you hate how badly your heart is currently aching and you hate that you still long to see the blue warrior after the way he spoke to you, though you think most of it was caused by adrenaline and anger towards his brother, “Do you know where he would be? I need to talk to him.”

You need a proper explanation and an apology.

The bounty hunter lets out with a loud, dramatic grunt as he forces himself up into a sitting position before giving you a sharp nod, “Follow me.”

Your eyes widen as he heaves himself off of the medical cot with a pained groan, though he holds a hand out when you step forward to help him, silently explaining that he does not require your help. Even though you can tell he’s in severe pain, he doesn’t say a word as he hobbles out of the little infirmary and straightens his posture, as though he’s determined to not look weak in front of you or anyone else. You’re nearly tempted to reach out and hold onto his elbow simply out of instinct after spending so much time with the blue Mandalorian, though you force yourself not to as he silently guides you down the small staircase that Paz had helped you down the previous night. He now leads you in a completely different direction and your eyes widen when the atmosphere around you somehow grows warmer and a little lighter.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the nursery,” The bounty hunter answers and it fills you with both excitement and fear, “That’s usually where he goes when he’s upset--likes spending time with the kids.”

Your brows furrow, wondering why your big blue warrior finds solace in an environment surrounded by little ones who probably enjoy screaming his ears off whenever they have the chance, though you don’t argue and follow closely behind the bounty hunter. You feel eager to meet the little ones in the tribe and you curiously wonder how many there are and how young or old they must be--do they all wear helmets? Or just some?

As soon as you hear the familiar sound of angry little squeaks in the distance, you immediately perk up and grin as you breakaway from the Mandalorian and rush forward to turn a sharp corner. Instantly, you hear the sound of rocks clanking against stone walls and you let out a loud giggle when you spot a tiny, crimson-eyed creature yipping furiously at you.

“Oh, my little one!” You exclaim with a soft little cry, scooping her up into your awaiting arms the moment she makes her way to you in an awkward hobble, her front leg still trapped between the splint you dutifully gave her two nights ago, “Oh, I am so sorry for what I did to you! I did not want to throw you like that, I swear it. It was all the bounty hunter’s fault.”

She's a wriggly little thing as she alternates between nuzzling her wet snout against your cheek and letting out with excited little squeaks and you laugh at her eagerness to see you again. Somewhere behind you, the bounty hunter sighs and you are quick to soothe the vulptex when she peers over your shoulder to give him the fiercest growl she can muster, though it’s more of a high-pitched whine. A content sigh leaves you as you pet her white, rocky head tenderly, admiring the way the dim lighting seems to reflect off of her opalescent coat; your hands seem to calm her and you watch as she turns her head to slowly blink up at you with contentment.

Din shakes his head as he continues to guide you through the covert, watching you as you comfort and soothe your little companion to the point where she’s nearly falling asleep, her head lightly bobbing as she tries to battle her exhaustion. Eventually, she gives up and rests her little head against your stomach as the bounty hunter takes you through a small entrance and into an alcove that is far warmer than the rest of the enclave.

“This whole mess for just a little runt.”

You furrow your brows, though it’s not anger and spite you feel towards his heartless words, but rather confusion and curiosity.

“What if it was a youngling you had been sent to kill or retrieve rather than a vulptex?”

“It’s not the same,” He answers without hesitation, turning his head to stare straight ahead.

“In a way, it kind of is though,” You stubbornly argue with him, your frown deepening as you tilt your head to the side and try to get a better sense of this man’s enigmatic mind, “Is she not an innocent, breathing creature that feels fear and pain? Sure, she may not be able to speak, but that shouldn’t lessen her worth. So tell me, bounty hunter, what if one of your quarries was a child--perhaps one too young to speak their fears aloud? Would the reward on their head matter more than your ability to not let it haunt you when you can’t sleep at night?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments and you feel your heart drop as you gaze down at your sleeping vulptex, pondering how anyone could possibly harm a child, let alone deliver them to their death. Suddenly, you wonder if you had made a mistake in not letting Paz take the bounty hunter’s helmet off, thinking him to not be honorable in the slightest.

“I would not hurt a child.”

“That was not the question I asked you,” You scoff at him, feeling your heart thrum angrily in your chest, “And your hesitation told me all I need to know about you. I am glad I did not accept your apology.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to remain silent as he glances down at your slumbering vulptex with a slight tilt to his shiny helmet; you pray to the Maker that you’ve hurt his pride today, what with having to stop Paz from making him lose everything.

You wonder how he feels now that the outsider he had so vehemently denied having in the tribe was the one that had saved his place in the covert.

The rest of your journey is spent in a tense silence.

You perk up a little upon hearing loud giggles and little voices as the two of you approach a concealed entrance, though it is suddenly replaced with silence as you step inside the warmer alcove. Instantly, you are face to face with at least a dozen--probably more--little ones who are all staring up at you, most likely not used to seeing an adult without a helmet on their head, though some of them wear helmets themselves. You’re so focused and caught off guard by how many younglings reside in the covert that you’re not even aware of Paz emerging from another room that’s attached to the nursery, or the way the bounty hunter makes haste to leave before being spotted.

“Saviin’ika?” He sounds surprised as he utters the name that everyone at the covert seems to know you by, and your eyes widen when all the younglings instantly crowd around you, their little faces stretched with happy smiles as though you are no stranger to them. Some of them are showing you their little toys and stuffed animals, while others are babbling excited, incoherent words and...

Maker, what have you gotten yourself into?

You thought the bounty hunter was exaggerating when he spoke of how much Paz talks about you to the little ones, but as numerous grubby little hands reach up for you, you realize just how honest he was being.

You realize why Paz comes here to seek out comfort though, and you smile fondly when a little boy--no older than five--hugs your knee tightly and stares up at you with wonder and sadness shimmering brightly in his eyes. Some of them are more focused on the vulptex cub who had been startled awake amidst all the adorable chaos, but most of them throw random questions and comments at you faster than what you imagine a ship’s hyperspeed to be and you suddenly feel a little overwhelmed.

Paz must sense it because he steps in immediately and somehow manages to shoo away all the reluctant little ones, though the little boy remains attached to your leg and you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to gently stroke the back of his head in a comforting manner. The gesture earns you a shy smile from him, his wide eyes glimmering up at you and you think something must have previously caused him some sort of despair, what with the dried tear tracks on his flushed cheeks, so you find yourself crouching down to make him feel less small. After placing your disgruntled vulptex on the floor, who immediately finds enjoyment in the presence of one of the excited younglings, you hold a hand out for the little one to take and he instantly latches onto it with both of his.

Even though you’re still upset and hurt from Paz’s words and you’re certain he must still be irritated with you, the two of you don’t acknowledge it out of respect for the little one’s already intense emotions.

“Why are you so sad, little one?”

He simply stares at you and your chest aches when he doesn’t say anything, though Paz steps in once again and crouches down next to the two of you, carefully cupping the back of his head, “He is the tribe’s newest foundling.”

It takes you a second to understand, but when you do, Maker, it breaks your heart to think of a child so young and fragile losing everyone he loves and your eyes instantly burn with tears, though you force yourself not to let them fall.

“Well, everything is going to be okay--you want to know why?” You keep your voice steady for the little one who must feel so afraid and alone, but you give his hand a reassuring squeeze when he eagerly nods, “You are surrounded by the bravest, strongest warriors in the entire galaxy and they won’t let anything happen to you, because you are loved by them.”

Immediately, the boy launches himself towards you and wraps his tiny arms around your neck, and when you look up at Paz, his visor staring intently at your sad eyes, you finally let a tear fall for the little boy and all the other ones that are here because they weren’t born into the tribe; instantly, he wipes it away, most likely not wanting the little boy to see it and upset him even more. Gently, you comfort the boy until he pulls away and gives you a shy little smile and a nod when you ask him if he feels a little better, carefully wiping the fresh tears from his cheeks and the mucus from his nose with the sleeve of your sweater.

In the tiniest little voice, he speaks and you didn’t think it was possible for your chest to ache any worse, but his sad tone completely shatters you; you’re too focused on the boy that you don’t even notice the way Paz jolts upon hearing the distraught child speak.

“I miss my family.”

And you hate that you think of a ten year old you, just as heartbroken and lost in the world, so you fully sink to your knees and hold his tiny hands a little more firmly, wishing you had something more to give him than just your words.

“I know it hurts,” You murmur in a soothing voice, brushing his curls away from his forehead as he hiccups and you let him hug you again, your hand immediately coming up to cup the back of his head, “I lost the ones I considered to be family when I was around your age too, and I know all too well of what you are feeling right now. I promise the sadness won’t always hurt you this badly and you have so many strong people here that are going to help you feel better and take care of you, okay?” 

Then you think of Paz’s words from the other night when he had found you in such despair and in a deep state of despair 

“You are not alone or unloved.”

He pulls away and nods, and thinking the distraught child could use all the comfort in the galaxy you press a tender kiss to the top of his curls for good measure, immediately earning you a slightly bigger smile as he continues to fiercely rub his eyes and wipe his runny nose. Eventually, he reluctantly wanders away and you watch as he timidly sits in the corner, next to another shy girl that offers him a kind smile; warmth blooms deeply in your heart when he smiles back at her.

“Cyare, we should talk about what happened--the things I said to you and what I did.”

You look up, realizing that Paz is now standing tall above you and holding a hand out to help you up; reminding yourself why you had wanted to see him in the first place, you grab his hand and let him easily tug you to your feet. You let go of him as he cocks his helmet in the direction of the entrance, gesturing for you to follow him and as he silently walks you to a part of the covert you haven’t explored, your fears get the better of you as you think of all the happy moments you’re probably going to lose before really experiencing them.

“Am I going to have to leave the covert?”

He freezes instantly, turning to face you and he’s deathly silent for a few tense moments as he collects his thoughts, “W-What?”

“I disrespected you in front of your family when I yelled at you,” You remind him, confusion swirling around in your mind, though you still don’t think you regret what you said to him, “Do you not… want me here anymore? I understand if that is the case, but if you expect me to apologize, I am not sorry for what I did and said to you.”

His shoulders drop as he watches you nervously tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, trying your hardest to stand your ground, and your heart freezes over in your chest as he almost immediately drops to a knee right in front of you. His breathing pattern looks frantic, what with the way his cuirass is rising and falling so rapidly and he’s mumbling something to himself in his native tongue, but it’s too low to make out any of the syllables or the tone he speaks in.

Immediately, your anger and fears give way to worry as you realize you did not witness the whole fight and there’s a chance he could be injured, “Paz, are you hurt?!”

“Ni ceta, sweet nurse,” He traps one of your hands between both of his and peers up at your worried gaze, “I am not injured, but I am sorry for the way I yelled at you. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I--Maker, why do I keep fucking everything up and letting you get hurt? This isn’t… I’m not supposed to hurt you and make you cry and I--”

He sounds so frustrated with himself and you intervene when you realize how erratically he’s breathing, “Hey, just breathe a little slower, okay? Let’s just talk this out.”

“I’m sorry,” He listens to your advice and his incoherent ramblings give way to something clearer, “You didn’t deserve any of that and I understand that me being blinded by rage is no excuse for speaking like that to you in front of everyone.”

You blink owlishly at him, realizing this is the second time today you’ve had a Mandalorian apologize to you and you want to forgive him, but your brain is screaming at you to tell him how you really feel. Even though you have no problem baring your emotions to him, for some reason you find it more difficult to actually elaborate on how you’re feeling and you think it must be from being alone for so long.

If you truly want this to work out between you and him, you realize you have to work on speaking your thoughts, rather than letting them build up in your head.

“I didn’t like the way you yelled at me,” You inform him in a shaky whisper, ignoring your fears as you crouch down in front of him so you can be eye-level with his shiny visor, though you continue to keep your hand in his, “And I did not like the way it made me feel when you told me I was too soft for my own good because I already know this. I experienced it everyday of my life--people making fun of me or targeting me because they know I am not a warrior like you. I never listened to them though, because my mother would always tell me that there is immense strength in being soft and selfless and I must believe that, even if you and the others in the tribe don’t.”

“I don’t… I don’t know why I said that to you--why I said any of that to you. I didn’t mean it and I would never want you to change yourself for anyone, especially me. I love you for your soft, compassionate heart, cyare,” He pleads in a pained tone and you can tell he’s being sincere, so you nod for him to continue with his explanation.

“I was so mad--so fucking pissed off--when he told me how much he traded your life away for,” He shakes his helmet, perhaps in a weak attempt to shake away his anger and sadness, “I knew the only reason he took the job was because he thought you’d be a quick and easy target and that you wouldn’t even try to fight back against him or the Trandoshan. I wanted to hurt him in the worst way possible and when you stopped me… I was not thinking properly--I wasn’t thinking at all. I still hate him, but you were just trying to be rational and didn’t deserve any of what I said.”

Your lip trembles a little and he frantically shakes his helmet when you drop your head to gaze down at the leather fingers are desperately clutching yours, “You’ve never raised your voice at me like that. It... it caught me off guard and it made me angry that you wouldn’t really listen to me and--”

You feel yourself choke on your words, tears burning hot in your eyes and you absolutely loathe that he’s able to soak in every one of your emotions when you barely have the ability to understand what he’s feeling. One of his hands moves up to your forearm and you watch as he gently rubs the crook of your elbow with his thumb; you know it’s a feeble attempt to comfort you and it barely does anything as you try to process your conflicted emotions.

“Would you really strip someone of everyone and everything they love that easily?” You inquire desperately, your lips trembling as you stare at the chin of his visor and you hate that your voice cracks so horribly as you speak, “You almost took his helmet off, Paz.”

“I am sorry for the pain I caused you, cyare, but he almost took the only one I--” You tilt your head a little when you think you hear his filtered voice growing more crackly than usual and you shake your head when he grows quiet and more withdrawn.

You cannot let people continue to walk all over you and though you understand that is not Paz’s intention, you can tell he’s not expressing his emotions like you’ve been trying to and you find yourself sinking to your knees completely, staring up at him with an expression of sadness and curiosity.

“I am trying my hardest to tell you how much you hurt me, okay? You don’t get to hide your heart from me when I am giving you everything I am feeling for the first time in such a long, long amount of time,” You swallow the lump in your throat, nostrils flaring as you heave in a deep sigh and muster up as much courage as possible to continue this conversation without breaking, “What is going on in your head, Paz?”

He lowers his helmet until his forehead is just inches away from his thigh and you carefully grab the hollows of his blue cheeks, realizing there’s something he’s not telling you and he lets out a little groan, as though he thought he could get his way out of this.

“I... I have never loved anyone the way I love you, ner cyare,” he confesses in a quiet voice, “And my own brother tried to take you away from me--trade you in like you weren’t the most precious thing in my life. I do not know how to process my emotions right now. I am angry and hurt and sad that one of my own could do this to you.”

“Hey, I am here and I am alive,” Your remind him, urging his helmet up a little so he can look at you, “He didn’t know who I was, okay? He made a foolish mistake and yes, it did almost cost me my life, but I am here with you. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“I... yes,” He breathes, giving your hand a firm squeeze, “I know that words mean nothing to you, but I promise I will never embarrass you like that in front of the tribe ever again.

“I…” You remind yourself that you need to speak your concerns and fears out loud for him to understand how you’re feeling and breathe out a deep sigh, “I thought that perhaps you were embarrassed that I was speaking to you like that in front of your people, that was why I thought you were going to make me leave. I thought I had made you mad.”

“No, cyare, I could never--” He heaves a deep breath and you hear the defeat in his filtered baritone as he struggles to reassure you that he didn’t mean to hurt you, “I want you here with me for as long as you wish to stay, but I need you to know that I could never be ashamed of you, okay? If I wasn’t such a fucking idiot, I would have gotten down on my knees in front of the entire tribe and apologized to you as soon as I raised my voice at you.”

You raise your brows in surprise at his words, though you’re not sure why you’re shocked when he’s been respectful towards you from the moment he offered to walk you home and give you his blade. Briefly, a part of you wonders what your life would be like right now had he not felt the need to walk you home that night, though you think it best to not ponder such terrifying thoughts.

“I’m sure the others would have loved to see their heavy-infantry warrior on his knees asking for forgiveness.”

“They already gave me a hard time about me being an asshole as soon as you were gone,” He admits with a small groan, though the image of him being hounded by his tribe makes you smile a little, “I normally don’t let them, but I felt like I deserved it in that moment.”

You sigh, squeezing his hand so tightly that you fear you’ll break one of his fingers, though you think he must be unbreakable, “Everybody makes mistakes, that’s how we learn and grow.”

“Then I will learn from the mistake I have made today,” He drops his helmet in what you think is shame, though you remove your hand from between his to place it on the blue hollow of his cheek and you smile sadly when he looks at you, “I wish you could see my face so you know how sorry I am for hurting your feelings and making you feel lesser of yourself.”

“You wishing that I could see your face is enough proof of your sincerity, Paz,” You bring your other hand to cradle his scuffed up helmet, though you wish you could feel the warmth of his scruffy cheeks again, “I forgive you, but if you ever leave me alone in your bed to go try to kill one of your own again, I think I would throw you in the forge myself and not show you any mercy.”

“That’s my saviin’ika,” He huffs out a small, relieved chuckle as you slowly stand up and offer him a helping hand up, smiling when you hear him grunt as his knees crack a little as he stands to his full height, “I think Ima would not mind helping you with that; you may forgive me, but the kid can really hold a grudge.”

Though you’ve spent such a small amount of time with the tenacious teenager, you don’t doubt that she can be just as stubborn and fierce as any of the adults. You grow quiet and curious when Paz begins to tug you in the direction he had initially been leading you towards before you voiced your concerns. A soft sigh leaves you as you think of how you haven’t been awake for probably more than two hours, and you’ve already had a long, strange day, though not necessarily terrible now that you and Paz have made up and you won't have to leave.

“Your mother was wise when she said that being kind and soft makes you no less stronger than a warrior,” Paz abruptly speaks, gazing down at your surprised expression as he wraps his massive arm around your waist, all while continuing to guide you down the corridor, “I know what kind of reputation I have and even though I do not wish to harm people who don’t deserve it, I know people jump to conclusions and think the worst of me--of Mandalorians in general. Then there’s you, cyare.”

Your eyes widen as you stare up at him, waiting patiently for him to explain with a frantic heart that threatens to leap out of your chest.

“People see you and they immediately trust you because you look so sweet and kind,” Paz sighs, a dreamy noise that causes his modulator to crackle a little bit, “That little boy from earlier has been here for two weeks and hasn’t spoken a word or stopped crying, yet you got him to talk after five seconds and you even made him smile. That is true strength, being able to give someone hope and comfort, and I was a fool to say otherwise.”

“You are kind and compassionate too, Paz.”

“Only because you taught me how,” He shakes his helmet as you try to shake off the incredibly sweet words, “And I am still learning because I have not always been a good man and I’ve never felt shame for it until I met you--until I saw your smile and how you care for others so intensely, even though you’ve seen just as much pain and suffering that I have, if not more. I’ve never seen any of it faze you so badly until I found you at the infirmary when you went into shock the last night. I knew one more day spent in that hell would destroy you and I could not live with myself if I left you at the infirmary, all alone.”

Your face feels so intensely hot as you struggle to think of a proper reply--something just as beautiful as what your Mandalorian is currently telling you--though you find it hard to form a coherent response. You think of the quiet bounty hunter and how he had chosen you because you were an easy target to him, but then you think of the way you had clung to your will to survive and how even though taking a life is something that will haunt you forever, it had also led to you having a better life.

You’re here because Paz had deemed you worthy of being part of his family of warriors and because you had fought at the mere chance of a future filled with happy moments with the one you love.

You find it uplifting that though you had been the one to teach him how to be softer, he had given you the confidence to stand up for yourself and be stronger.

Though you don’t have the words to properly express yourself, you smile and murmur a small, ‘thank you, Paz’.

“Always thinking so hard about everything and never talking,” Paz muses, though it sounds like he might be smiling underneath that helmet, “One day I will find out what goes on in that pretty little head, sweetheart.”

“Well, I just figured you do enough talking for the both of us, ori kebiin,” You tease, grinning when you hear a sweet bark of a filtered laugh and you’re grateful that nothing has severely changed between you two after everything that happened with the bounty hunter.

“Remind me to keep you away from Ima so she won’t teach you any other nicknames that the tribe has for me,” Paz lets out a dramatic sigh that instantly amuses you, “Same with all the others. Anyone tries to teach you Mando’a, don’t listen to them, okay?”

“Would it be disrespectful for an outsider to learn the language?”

“No, it’s just--” He makes a funny noise from the back of his throat, something you’ve learned he does when you say something that makes him feel flustered, “Some of the guys are just… playful, and I would not put it past them to teach you something you would not normally intend to say.”

You must look confused because he immediately lets out with another groan, almost sounding like he’s struggling as he speaks in a hasty tone, “They would teach you how to say something dirty as a way of messing around with you. They may protect you as their little sister, but it also means they would pick on you like one as well.”

Your cheeks feel so intensely hot at the thought of being pranked in such a way and you’re suddenly very much aware of Paz’s arm around your waist as you two slowly stroll through the enclave, his fingers twitching just a few inches below your cauterized wound. Then you think of the way he had held you on top of him the previous night, all while letting you kiss him and you’re certain that your ears are burning from the inside out at the images that you allow your mind to conjure.

“I think I know how Djarin felt when I was holding his helmet up to the forge, cyare,” Paz drawls in a teasing manner, making you grow weak in the knees as he drops his helmet a little, “I can feel the heat from your cheeks and ears through all this Beskar.”

You give him an annoyed scowl, though it only seems to spur him on even more and you suddenly hate how easy it is for you to grow flustered when he makes these flirty little comments, “Maybe you should listen to what they teach you--I do not think I would mind hearing my language in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You chew viciously on your bottom lip and shake your head as you change the topic, deciding you’ve had enough torment for one day, “Where are you taking me, Paz?”

He simply grunts and you roll your eyes at the fact that your usually mouthy warrior has decided to grow quiet and you simply let him guide you to whatever destination he has in mind. Curiosity gets the better of you when you feel him tense up a little against your side, his spine straightening as he leads you even deeper underground and down another staircase and you’re in absolute awe of the size of the enclave. Even when you stumble a little, he keeps you grounded with his arm around your waist and you are simultaneously grateful for both his diligence to keep you from falling as well as the body heat from the cracks of his armor.

“I know this place is not what you’re used to and even though you are safe, I thought you might miss the sunlight and your pretty flowers, cyare,” Paz begins to ramble as he guides you down the dimly lit tunnel and your curiosity grows hundred fold when you are able to make out the nervous pitch of his filtered voice as he brings you towards a small entrance covered by black drapes, “I just… I thought you might like having a place to yourself because I know how quiet you are and how loud we can be sometimes. I just want you to feel as comfortable as possible.”

He curls his fingers into the heavy drapes and you tilt your head to the side when he pulls them to the side, urging you into the little alcove with a sharp nod of his helmet and you think he must feel nervous for you to see what’s in the room. You bow your head low as you duck into the small room, biting back a small giggle when you hear the loud clatter of a helmet meeting stone, followed by a few curse words that you’re used to hearing from him; his enclave is so big that he must have forgotten that a smaller alcove existed within it.

“It seems like you are the clumsy one now,” You giggle, turning back to face him as he readjusts his helmet a little, “You are not allowed to make fun of me anymore.”

He snorts a little, “That’s not how it works.”

As soon as you turn forward to take in your surroundings, whatever smart comment that nearly rolls off the tip of your tongue diminishes and your huge grin drops into a severe expression of shock.

The room is little, but adorned with several clay pots filled with your usual violets that you typically wear in your hair, as well as flowers from the hot springs he had taken you to months and vibrant flora you’ve never seen on Nevarro. 

“Ima helped me with most of it since I kept accidentally killing a bunch of your flowers.”

Immediately, tears fill your eyes when you realize all he’s done for you--collecting flowers and rehoming them in an environment where it is difficult for them to flourish, though there’s plenty of artificial lighting beating down on them, just as you had previously advised. You spot a large cup of water on the long desk that most of the plants reside on and wonder if he had come down here every single day just to water them and your heart feels like it’s about to burst from all the overwhelming emotions you are currently feeling. You step forward upon noticing the wooden cabinets above the desk and open them slowly, smiling warmly upon seeing the numerous glass jars and other tools that one would use to concoct salves and ointments.

“I know some of the flowers are dying and you could do a much better job, but I know how much they mean to you and I didn’t want you to lose this part of--” He stops rambling the second you turn to him with tear-filled eyes.

“You did all of this for me? Just so I would be more comfortable here?”

“I would not want you to be without your flowers, cyare,” His shoulders slump forward a little at the shock in your quiet voice and you watch with warmth in your cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards the long desk that houses all the beautiful flowers, “I know how much you cherish them and what they mean to you--how they remind you of a happier time that you are still far too hurt over to talk to me about. In a way, I suppose they are as precious to you as our helmets are to us.”

You watch as his leather-clad fingers carefully pluck one of those beautiful blue flowers that you had seen at the hot springs and your heart soars the moment he slowly makes his way back to you, all while staring at the beautiful, luminescent petals. Your feet feel glued to the floor as he reaches out to tuck the flower somewhere in your hair and your grin is so large that you feel it hurting your cheeks as he tucks the beautiful blue flower behind the shell of your warm ear.

Feeling the familiar tickle of a tiny stem grazing the shell of your ear, you smile up at him warmly and wish to tell him the words you are not able to conjure into a coherent statement. Instead, you stand up on the tips of your toes to press a sweet kiss into the fabric covering his neck before moving up to the hollow cheek of his helmet. You hear him grunt and groan as his hands carefully cup your waist to keep you close to him and you wonder if he’s imagining how your lips would feel against skin. Suddenly, you’re grateful that he had decided to leave his heavier equipment in his quarters, making it easier to reach up and kiss the thick, warm fabric that covers his shoulders.

“Gar ganar ner kar'ta ratiin, cyare.”

“What does that mean?”

He tilts his helmet downwards when you reluctantly pull away to gaze up at him.

“It is my promise to you.”

You grow warm as you think of what he could possibly be promising to you, though you decide not to ask as you explore all the little dents of his pauldron and helmet with a feathery light touch

“Then I will make the same promise to you as well.”

You’re slightly startled as you watch him manage to rip off his gloves that are tucked underneath his huge gauntlets before he’s cradling your cheeks and gently backing you up against the desk he’s deemed worthy of housing your precious flowers.

“Maker, you are so fucking so beautiful, I really don’t deserve you, do I? Always so kind to me and I--” He grunts and you smile softly upon hearing the adoration laced within his filtered voice as he carefully nudges his helmet against your bare forehead, "I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

"But your--"

"Close your eyes, please, close your eyes--"

Your breath hitches at the desperation in his filtered voice, "You trust me this much?"

He huffs as his thumb tenderly grazes your bottom lip, “I would trust you with a blaster to my chest, cyare.”

“I think your Beskar would hold up just fine.”

He snorts--a distorted sound that his modulator barely picks up--and as soon as your eyes slip shut, he rips his helmet off and has his lips pressed against yours in a kiss that is something more passionate than all the ones you shared the previous night. 

You jump a little upon the foreign feeling of his tongue grazing your bottom lip and curiously open your mouth for him to explore, earning a deep groan from him; your heart is beating wildly as he tenderly cups the back of your head to keep you close, his other arm slung across your lower back and you feel part of his helmet barely digging into your waist. 

A shiver rips through your body when he pulls away with a small gasp and immediately teases the underside of your jaw with his teeth and wet tongue, his helmet dropping to the floor with a loud clang that you two barely notice as a whimper leaves you at the pleasant sensation his lips bring you.

“Paz,” Your voice leaves your mouth in a way you’ve never heard from yourself, all breathy and more of a little whine as he gives you what you think is the only kind of mark he’d ever leave on your body.

“Everything you do just makes me--” He cuts himself off with a soft sigh as he skims his mouth along your jawline, ultimately ending up at your earlobe and you shudder again when he presses a tender kiss to the hot skin there, “Can’t believe you thought I’d make you leave the covert--you’re an angel, I’m sure of it.”

And you’ve never heard someone call you such a thing--an angel--but as he continues to mumble sweet praises and compliments against the column of your neck, you hear the sincerity in his raw voice and you feel his love deep in your soul. As your hands cup his scruffy jaw to guide him back to your lips, you wonder if there’s some sort of invisible wire that connects two people and their souls together and if you and Paz had somehow been connected as soon as he walked into the infirmary. You think of all the bad luck you’ve had in your life and how you’ve lost the only ones who have ever loved you, leaving you with a cruel father that felt no shame in beating you down countless times. 

But then you think of Paz.

You think of the man that had walked you home and had been so determined to show you that not everything on this planet was awful, and now, pressed up against the desk with his lips, teeth, and tongue all teasing at your skin, you grin a little.

You finally feel as though you have found your home within his heart.

The thought of soulmates and fate immediately disappears as he eventually pulls away and gently nudges your forehead with his, instantly making your heart bloom like a wildflower when you think of all the times he’s rested his Beskar helmet against your forehead. A tear trickles down your cheek, though you think it is a happy one as Paz lifts his head to kiss your forehead, letting out a deep sigh that fans across your already warm skin.

You’re surprised when you hear him clear his throat before he speaks, “I am glad you accepted my apology, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for raising my voice at you.”

You hear how his voice is thick with emotion and you realize this is something he is not going to let go any time soon; he drops his head against the curve of your neck as you speak, “Then let it serve as a reminder to never do it again, Paz. Like I said, everyone makes mistakes--it’s how we learn and grow--and if it happens again, it will only show me that you have not grown.”

“And what about him--Djarin--did he apologize when you were fixing him up, cyare?” Paz questions against your shoulder, his voice slightly muffled, “Because if he didn’t I can--”

“You Mandalorians,” You huff a small laugh, grinning a little when he squeezes you to him tighter, but making sure to remain mindful of crushing you against his armor, “Always so scornful, even towards your own kind. The bounty hunter did apologize to me and he seemed to genuinely regret what he did.”

“I understand that you do not wish to see him lose his place with the tribe or see him suffer, but I still don’t think he deserves your forgiveness,” Paz sighs again, moving to place tender little kisses against your shoulder and the side of your neck; he chuckles a little when you find yourself slowly tilting your head to the side.

“I accepted his apology but did not forgive him,” You inform Paz quietly, finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes shut for him, though you persist for the sake of his honor, “I could not because it would have made me a dishonest woman.”

You feel him smile against your jaw as he tends to the sensitive skin with plush lips, “And you are not a dishonest woman, ner cyare.”

You grin, remembering how you had spoken out against the bounty hunter earlier when you had been resetting his shoulder and a part of you is tempted to tell the Mandalorian, thinking that he would gain some sort of satisfaction just as you had. You think of the bounty hunter’s story of how Paz had protected him when he’d first come to the covert and your heart melts at the thought of a young blue warrior protecting a small foundling who must have been just as afraid as the little one you comforted earlier.

“No, I am not.”

Before he can say anything, a loud female voice from outside the alcove startles Paz nearly right out of his skin and you raise your brows as he hastily retrieves his helmet and gloves from the ground.

“Ori kebiin di’kut!” Ima’s voice is practically screaming at him and you grin when Paz gives you the okay to open your eyes; something about his exasperated sigh makes you think this isn’t the first time she’s done this to him, “Khai pushed  Vhan down the stairs again and could probably use some medical attention. Think you can manage to be away from your riduur for more than five minutes?”

You raise your brows as you follow him out of the alcove, coming face to face with Ima, who you’re certain must be smug as she cocks her helmet at the sight of you. She then reaches out to skim a finger along your jawline and your eyes widen at how tender the skin there feels, your cheeks instantly feeling like a raging wildfire that spreads to your ears; there must be a small mark he left there with his teeth.

“Looks like you two already made up,” Ima snorts, glancing up at Paz who is shaking his helmet at her, and you remember what he had told you about being picked on like a sister, though you think it makes you feel more like part of the tribe, “C’mon saviin’ika, you have a long day ahead of you.”

She grabs your hand and happily urges you to follow her, all while still teasing you.

As you leave a flustered Paz behind, you think Ima is the first person you’ve trusted completely since meeting your warrior and a fond smile stretches along your lips as she nosily asks you if he had gotten on his knee to apologize to you.

You had forgotten what it felt like to have a family, but perhaps with enough time, you can learn again.

Translations:

Vod’ika=Little brother/sister

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (Lit: someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Mirdir be pehea gar kelir sirbur Ni ceta at kaysh=Think of how you will say sorry to her

Gar ganar ner kar'ta ratiin, cyare=You have my heart always, beloved

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Ner=Mine/My

Cyare=Beloved

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Riduur=Partner, spouse, husband/wife

A/N: As always, thank you all so much for all the support and sweet words!! It makes me so happy that you guys are enjoying this story as much as I love writing it, because I really do always have such a lovely time writing these two soft lovebirds :) I love you all and adore hearing all your thoughts and ideas because they always inspire me so much!

I love you guys and please have a wonderful day! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)<3

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester​ @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithwinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm

#paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla x you #Paz vizsla x you #my writing #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #THIS IS A ROLLERCOASTER IM SO SORRY YALL LOL #ALSO TUMBLR BETTER NOT FUCK UP MY TAGS AGAIN

[laufire]

(CW for mentions of csa)

A lot of Commonly Accepted (Often Through Uncritical Repetition) Wisdom in fandom leaves me baffled, when not straight up ticked off, but one that's been on my mind lately, that never fails to bring a scrunched up expression to my face, is the idea that Bela Talbot's backstory was some last minute add-on to her character.

You might argue that the reveal was rushed since the writers caved in and killed her off against their original plan (or at the very least, earlier than). Or that using abuse is a trite way to raise sympathy for an antagonistic character. You could even say that some of the finer details might’ve not been set in stone until they sat down to write her exist, although that one is dubious. But I’m never really going to buy that Bela’s backstory hadn’t been already planned, likely in big part.

The reason why is Season Three Episode Six, “Red Sky At Morning”, Bela’s second episode, co-written by Eric Kripke himself. As all episodes with Bela were, may I add; which means he had a hand in crafting her story from the beginning, as creator, director, and writer.

There Dean, a character that has been shown as sharp and intuitive (although his success rate ain’t that great when it comes to Bela, admittedly xD), immediately pegs her as someone with Issues TM, asking “how did she get like this”. He even taunts her by referencing her father, showing off his talent to hit where it hurts by asking if he “didn’t give her enough hugs”, ‘cause he’s classy like that. This visibly affects Bela, changing her demeanor in their conversation, from more playful to defensive. Hell, I remember during my first watch in real time this moment, especially paired with the rest of the episode, was when I first thought it was possible she came from an abusive family.

Because, c’mon. This whole episode is about parricide. The monster of the week is a ghost who haunts those that “spilled their own family’s blood”. We get two other examples: a woman whose accidental car crash killed her cousin, and two brothers who killed their father for the inheritance. Clearly, the ghost doesn’t have a narrow criteria when it comes to means or culpability -which makes sense given his particular story: he was tried for treason and his brother, the captain of the ship, issued the sentence.

And just as we find out this information... Bela sees the ghost ship that foretells her death. This, paired with the insinuations about an unsavvory past and her discomfort at the mention of her father, aren’t a wealth of information, but they start to paint a picture. We now know for a fact that Bela caused the death of at least one relative (mom and dad); that she wouldn’t have needed to do it directly (she made a crossroads deal); and that she might’ve had a sympathetic motive (her father sexually abused her and her mother turned a blind eye).

That scene offers some more tidbits of information about her past that seem too in tune with 3x15 to be coincidental, and that absolutely break my heart: Bela’s “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.“ and “I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself”. See, I always thought Bela must’ve told people, when she was a kid. That she reached out for help not just to her mother, but to everyone around her that she thought could’ve help: teachers, maybe even law enforcement; adults that should’ve being worthy of that trust and protected her. Except no one did (and the fact that her family seemed to be not only very rich but influential paints a very bleak picture that surely contributed to her cynic view of the world). So she took matters in her own hands, and sold her soul for ten years of relative safety and freedom from her abusers.

To tie it all up, her final scene in that episode offers some more moments that again, are very in line with her backstory. We see how she treats relationships as transactionals: she pays ten grand to the Winchesters for saving her life, like she paid with her soul. Dean, again, draws attention to her likely messed up past by calling her damaged, and she replies that “takes one to know one”. Terrible childhood, ammirite. The show wasn’t been subtle here: it’s telling us Bela has a terrible past, like the Winchesters do, but of a different kind that has resulted in a different kind of person. So yeah, I think all the facts were hinted at back in 3x06.

We could go even futher back and point out 3x03, Bela’s introduction. One of the very first things she says in the show, during her first face to face with Dean (a character that just condemned his soul to Hell), is “We’re all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride”. Sure, it could be an incredibly fortuitous coincidence; as a writer, I’ve had those and they’re damn great. But it seems VERY lucky, and more likely to be a case of the kind premeditated, well-placed foreshadowing that Kripke excels at.

So, okay. I’ve established why I think Bela’s backstory wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. But why is there a notable narrative in fandom that it IS?

First thing first, I want to get something out of the way: you don’t have to like it even if it was planned ahead. I understand it’s a very thorny subject, and to make matters worse, it’s inherently tied to her death. You might even be fine with the what, but not with how it was dealt with (although personally, I appreciate that neither the abuse nor her death were shown onscreen. In fact, the worse violence we see Bela on the receiving end of in her run is Dean’s threats and manhandling, which seems like a very purposeful choice ngl. Even Gordon freaking Walker was gentler lmao).

But I do disagree with some extended fandom opinions on the topic, and I guess that’s what the post is about. For one, I don’t see how the show “condemned” or morally judged Bela in this scenario. If anything, they clearly wanted to make her sympathetic, AND they showed Dean as being in the wrong by robbing him of information. Dean’s opinion on Bela couldn’t count for shit, for once, because he didn’t have the full picture; because Bela had deemed him UNWORTHY of the full picture, and thus anything he had to say on her couldn’t be taken at face value (except this is Supernatural, so I guess this was a little too much to ask of some people?). I think saying that just because Bela died and went to Hell as a consequence of her deal, IN THE SAME SEASON the same happened to our co-lead, because the writers deemed her evil and irredeemable is simplistic at best, and the audience projecting their own feelings (or being unable to see past Dean’s) onto the writing.

All that said, to go back to the initial point of all of this xD: WHY does fandom seem to insist on viewing this narrative choice as some cheap last minute addition?

There might not be one explanation that fits all, but I have a few ideas. One is that, if this wasn’t planned for and hinted at from early on, some people might feel as if this “absolves” them of their previous (and disgustingly hateful and misoginistic) reactions to Bela. Others will see this as absolving Dean, and maybe even Sam to a lesser extent, for not helping her and for being callous towards her; if her tragic backstory was this artificial, rushed choice made by Those Writers, then Dean wasn’t responsible for reprehensible attitudes towards someone who deserved his compassion (and it can’t be denied that this fandom loves absolving Dean of responsibility lmao). And a lot people are probably only repeating what they've heard from others as the accepted narrative, especially those that didn't even watch all of s3 if at all (Castiel is my fave too, but seriously, s1-3 are worth it).

It’s like they’re creating this imaginary separation between Bela pre-reveal, and Bela post-reveal, to make the situation easier to themselves. See, Bela pre-reveal was this annoying bitch who inconvenienced and embarrassed our leads (not to mention dared have chemistry with them), and thus deserved to be punished for it; or, if we’re going with more modern fandom sensibilities, she can be made to fit into the shallow #GirlBoss mold, with a side of “Secretly A Lesbian And Therefore Not A Romantic Threat” flavour -the current preferred method to make controversial female characters more palatable.

The reveal throws a wrench into this narrative. “Bitch who deserves her comeuppance” is a hard sell when you’re talking about a character who survived csa. And a shallow #GirlBoss reading doesn’t work if you have to acknowledge that Bela was one of, if not the most tragic characters in the entire run of Supernatural.

She spent over half her life at the mercy of her abuser(s), hurt by those who should’ve loved her and protected her most. The rest of her life was extremely lonely, with seemingly only a cat as company, and a surface-level freedom that hid under the sentence that loomed over her head. She died without a single friend, or a simple show of kindness and compassion, without anyone bothering to fight for her. And then she ended up tortured for who knows how long until she became one of her torturers.

All of that is extremely difficult to digest. And when things are hard to swallow, people do as people do, and they try to simplify them. So, sure. Bela’s reveal wasn’t ever hinted at, it’s completely removed from her character and the person we met, and is not even worth trying to fit into the narrative. Sounds easy.

#talking to the void #my thoughts #spn thoughts #supernatural #bela talbot #bitter lau tag #fandom nonsense #spn 3x15 #spn 3x06 #spn s3

[hp-fanfic-archive]

an introductory rec list (that no one asked for) to some of my favorite ships: drarry [4/10]

First fic I read for the pairing: Obsession by yesbocchan [2k,T] Harry thinks Malfoy is up to something evil. Until he finds out maybe he's not the only one with an obsession. [just a cute little eighth year fic i saw on tumblr back when i was first getting into fandom stuff (and back into harry potter in general) when i was near the end of high school. it’s cute, it’s sweet, and i was curious about drarry as a concept so]

Fic that really sold me on the pairing: Stealing Sweaters by DorthyAnn [12k,T] It's their eighth and final year and over the course of several months, Harry and Draco have managed to become close friends. Their friends are entirely certain that they ought to be much, much more. So they just decide to... help things along. [listen, everything that DorthyAnn writes is phenomenal, so how could i not fall in love with this ship after this?]

Absolute favorite fic(s) for the pairing: Animus Nexus by MystyVander [96k,T] It's Eighth Year at Hogwarts and it seems Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy hate each other more than ever before. Everybody is sick of it. Somebody was tired of the two enough to curse them, binding them together. What at first appears to be a death sentence to both Harry and Draco turns out to be the thing the both of them needed the most. [it’s enemies to friends to lovers coupled with accidental bonding coupled with discussions of magical theory coupled with wizarding traditions with a few misunderstandings and some angst all set in eighth year and that’s basically the perfect combination for me.] Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 [302k,T] Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness. Pairings: HP/DM (Slash) Timeframe: 1994-2002 Goblet to 4 yrs post-DH EWE Rating T for language, high angst, content. [this fic has lived rent-free in my head for three years and it fucking slaps. there’s angst and fluff and so many bittersweet moments and it’s both canon compliant and completely canon divergent and i am obsessed with it. 40000/10]

Most recent fic I’ve read for the pairing: love me now (touch me now) by swisstae [3k,G] Harry's never had a bath. Draco plans on changing that. OR in which Harry gets his hair washed and Loves It (and Draco. He loves Draco too.) [this fic is adorable and sweet and i enjoyed it immensely.]

Favorite AU(s) I’ve read for the pairing: Alternate Sorting AU (Slytherin!Harry): Malfoy Flavor by Vorabiza [199k,E] Harry’s ready to banish the Golden Boy image and take charge of his life. Unfortunately for him, or fortunately, there are surprises in store for him. [Slytherin!Harry but it’s not an entire canon rewrite like most of the alternate sorting fics i love so much, so that’s fun. also severitus and just the right amount of soul crushingly painful angst. oh and it has a delightfully fluffy little sequel. ] Alternate Sorting AU 2: Electric Boogaloo (Ravenclaw!Draco): Chaos Theory by Tessa Crowley [102k,E] Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy's life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn't. (warnings for: major character death, graphic depictions of violence, psychological torture, implied/referenced non-con) [as my notes on my bookmark said: GOD DAMNNNNN. I LOVE THIS FIC. I CRIED SO MUCH AND ALSO THERE WAS LAUGHTER AND JUST GOD DAMN. ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITES. so that about sums it up.] Time Travel AU: Annus Mirabilis by Ren [39k,E] Harry and Malfoy are trapped at Hogwarts around the time the school was founded. Stuck with a different way of doing magic, with no chocolate, and with each other, they have to find a way to work together if they want a chance to go home. [i almost never fuck with time travel aus but… this one slaps. also? hogwarts founders era?? hell yeah. also also? their relationship progresses in a way that feels so natural and the tension is so palpable and the writing is excellent.]

Favorite Series for the pairing: Leo Inter Serpentes by Aeternum [746k,E,6 Works] Just one conversation between two eleven year old boys goes slightly differently, and the world changes. Just how much will be different with Harry being sorted into Slytherin, and how much will stay the same? [Slytherin!Harry? Harry, Draco, Hermione friendship? Severitus? All in a complete series re-write that’s currently six completed works deep? What more could you possibly need?]

Longest fic I’ve read for the pairing: I Do What I Want by XxTheDarkLordxX [509k,E] They say you shouldn't touch what isn't yours... Too bad no one told Harry that. A simple mistake that Harry made in his first year at Hogwarts is coming back to bite him in the arse. The war is over but the threat to his life is just beginning. This story begins with a simple apology that changes Harry’s life. It starts a domino effect that leads to unbelievable connections, undying love, unique past lives, unknown villains and an unstoppable family. Follow Harry and his friends on an epic adventure filled with twists, bumps, comfort, enemies, a new life and a lot of love. (warnings for: major character death, some character bashing) [the first (or first few? i forget) chapters are written in first person but they’re an internal monologue and the rest of the fic is not in first person, just so you know. Also, the concept slaps and the fic is cute and i love to see it (and i’ve read it thrice).]

Fic(s) with some of my favorite tropes: Matchmaking: Ron Weasley: Accidental Matchmaker by Phoenix_Waves [2k,T] "There's not a sexual tension out there that the man can't accidentally detect!" George beamed. "And then ask the stupid arse question that's going to light the spark and fan the flames." Lee added matter-of-factly. A fluffy Christmas one shot featuring our favorite older Gryffindors. [god this is excellent: the obliviousness, the mutual pining, the matchmaking, having the older gryffindor kids around and having a good holiday time- it’s all excellent.] Soulmates: Kiss Me Not by DorthyAnn [21k,T] Sometimes a witch or wizard's magical signature is so completely incompatible with another that they repel one another like magnets. On the other hand, if two magical signatures mesh well together, well there are no stronger relationships in all the world. In a sample of a thousand people, the average witch or wizard will be slightly repelled by four or five people and strongly repelled by only one, at the most. The opposite is true for attraction. But Harry Potter can't kiss anyone at all. [this is actually such a fascinating take on the classic soulmates trope. there’s no predestined person for everyone and there’s no magical guarantee of anything, just magic being a little difficult and i adore that. also the writing style is excellent and the characterizations are spot on.] Accidental Bonding + Bed Sharing: Let's Take A Chance On Happiness by endless_grey [21k,E] Harry works with Luna at her magical antique shop, and everything is going pretty well until a mysterious ring makes an appearance. Cue curse-breaker Draco Malfoy and an accidental bond, and suddenly Harry is magically married to his former nemesis. They need to break the bond before Hermione's fundraiser, but Harry doesn't remember "fall in love with the git" being part of the plan. [i discovered this fic while looking for something else, but it’s so good. i love their dynamic and it’s shift as the story progresses and i love both of their friendships with luna just as much. it’s funny and a little angsty and well written and has two of my favorite tropes in it. what more can i say?]

#drarry #drarry fic rec #drarry rec list #drarry fic rec list #drarry fics #drarry recs #hp fic rec #hp recs #hp fics #hp fic rec list #hp fic list #hp fic recs #drarry fic recs #intro to my fav ships rec list #queue is for quibbler

[fadecrow]

I’m done fucking with people I don’t like (for now) so I’m gonna actually make some content.

I remembered someone say that some examples I gave in a discourse post sounded like problematic fic prompts so let me write them down and expand on them + add some more. Some of them I am using myself or have explored in daydreams.

Feel free to change them to fit your plot or the fandoms you ship for, these are just to spark ideas. Some of them can be pretty scary in the right circumstances and I’ve been watching horror so my ideas are gonna be inspired by that, you have been warned.

A barely-legal teenager gets into a relationship with their much older teacher. Can be accidental, or maybe one was manipulating the other into it. Could also apply to a younger college student if the barely-legal part is iffy for you.

A captured character has Stockholm Syndrome towards their yandere kidnapper. Perhaps the yandere is actually kind of sweet to them, aside from the obsession. Or maybe they’re actually murdery, scary, and dangerous if the captured person doesn’t play their cards right. Could easily be tweaked to be soft (for a yandere kidnapper fic), or a straight up horror novel, depending on your preferences.

A human character is exploring, alone or with their friends. They find a house, or maybe they started there, and they go inside out of curiosity or on a dare. Its an old mansion, decades or even centuries old, and the vampire living there has taken interest in the pretty mortal that has wandered into their home. Their relationship can be can be sweet, mysterious, or incredibly dark. (Look up Villainous Thing and For The Departed by Shayfer James for mood setting songs that inspired this.)

A human gets captured and/or sold as a pet/pleasure slave type of thing for an alien, and they form a bond with each other despite initial difficulties due to the circumstances. Perhaps the human learns that they like the way things are now, or perhaps the alien helps them get recognized as a person to live as equals.

A character is cult member (possibly since childhood) and has been affected by some kind of anomaly or brainwashing or magic that makes them think they have a real human-like relationship with a dangerous, predatory (as in carnivorous), non-human entity. Could end up with the cultist being possessed by the predatory god or even straight up eaten themselves. Maybe they go on a conquer-murder rampage and become villains together.

Or maybe the non-human entity isn’t exactly predatory, and the character probably isn’t brainwashed, but in order to be safe in a relationship with a mortal they must be taught. Stuff like “No you can’t bite me, your teeth are sharp and I might die.” Can still lead to possession, except now its used as a vehicle for the characters to better understand each other. If you wanted, you could play into the horror aspects of it by making the possession more physical than commonly portrayed, twisting their body with too many eyes and too-sharp claws. Or by subjecting the human’s mind to concepts that stretch their sanity to its limits because they can’t take it. The yawning, heavy void of what passes as their lover’s soul barely brushing against their mind, carefully held back even in this fusion because if the full weight was given to them they’d be lost. Stuff like that.

Honestly even outside the cosmic horror, gods getting with humans is a little problematic just because of the power imbalance and worship aspects. My favorite thing is to start from when the god is a barely a wisp of a spirit living in the wilds, and gradually grow them into a main deity for their region. Give them a simple altar that gets built into a huge temple. Maybe they have a harem, or maybe just one favored worshipper/spouse. Do they let their favorite stay mortal, or try to lift them into godhood as well? Do they get in conflicts with other gods that either have the opposite domain or do the main character’s domain “wrong”?

A demigod (could be from other works or a child made from the stories in the previous prompts) getting into a relationship with their god parent. They aren’t human anyway so it doesn’t matter, right? (It might actually matter or it might not, up to you.)

Thats all I can think of for rn, maybe I’ll add more in the future.

#proship #pro shipping #pro ship #pro fiction #not safe for kids #text #manipulation tw #abuse tw #unhealthy relationships #uh #i think thats it???? #idk what the fuck I’m supposed to tag for the cosmic horror shit #psychological horror tw #body horror tw #long post

[ellasadventuresinfandoms]

Okay, back in May @isolatedphenomenon asked me if I had an les mis fic recs and I went "oh boy do I !" and then promptly fucked off and disappeared from tumblr for like 6 months...

Anyway on the off chance people are interested, here is my vastly too long list of  my favourite les mis fanfic (that I'm almost 100% sure I'll have accidentally missed some of my favourites off of...)

The vast majority of these are main pairing Enjolras/Grantaire, so I've put those first, divided into multi-chaptered and then one-shots. Below that will be other pairings!

Multi-chaptered

• Witch Boy Series : magic AU, starting with Grantaire solving Enjolras' curse - this is just Incredible world building which gets better as it goes on - my favourite is the Babet interlude

• World Ain't Ready : you know how fandoms tend to have a fic that is just associated with it ? in my experience, for les mis this is it - and well deserved ! High school, fake dating AU with some of the most engaging writing

• BE : Enjolras is dragged back into theatre production, helping Eponine put on a production of Hamlet - really love the characterisation in this, and this is really one of those modern AUs that actually feels like real life - really good writing

• After the End : the definitive apocalypse AU in my eyes - les amis are an underground resistance to the dystopian government - really wonderful characterisation of Grantaire and the amis

• You never have to wonder; you never have to ask. : I tend to find fic by scrolling through bookmarks of a pairing, which means I often see repeats; this is a fic that if I see I just re-read cause I know I'll enjoy it - the amis sparked a failed rebellion, and now 18 months later Grantaire ends up staying at Enjolras' after returning to Paris for Marius and Cosette's wedding

• Your Heart on Your Skin : Soulmate AU with flower tattoos marking important emotions and events - wonderful concept and world building 

• Impatient to Be Free : Daughters of Bilitis AU - if that doesn't make you excited I don't know what else to say to convince you (aside from saying the author is a simply wonderful writer)

• You Dance Dreams : Okay. Not to be over dramatic, but this fic did genuinely qualitatively change my life, in that it was the first thing that got me looking up contemporary ballet and now that's like one of my favourite things and big hobby So. Also its really great writing; music/creative arts school les amis with Grantaire choreohraphing the ballet for Combeferre's opera, with a heavy emphasis on Grantaire realising he really never actually got over Enjolras

• philia : this one is an absolute classic to me, but not given nearly enough recognition - one of the more realistic college AUs ever written, and the writing of Grantaire is so good because it hits the perfect balance of sympathy and annoyance about his behaviour (that's a genuine compliment) 

• Coffee Hooligans : fucking tragedy this never got properly finished, Enjolras leads the amis as social justice vigilantes and tries to hide the criminal bits of his life from R

• Fighting the Hurricane : Pacific Rim AU that's less an AU and more just placing the les mis characters in the Pacific Rim universe. Really good and riveting read, also super interesting depiction of Grantaire

• Weaving Olden Dances : Fairy AU - Grantaire "claims" Enjolras to prevent his execution - really good writing, love Grantaires characterisation 

• Paris Burning : canon era (sort of) where cities have a physical being - Grantaire is Paris and becomes entangled in Enjolras' revolution - oh the world building is truly *chefs kiss*

• Euphoria is You For Me : Enjolras and Grantaire keep meet cuting in a wonderfully written Brooklyn - feels like a love letter to Brooklyn at times, and I really like the characterisation of Grantaire 

• so please just fall in love with me this christmas : Enjolras works for the environmental company Grantaire volunteers at, and keeps getting secret gifts at Christmas - I sound a little like a broken record but the Grantaire characterisation is very good

• You Are the Moon : Wild West esque Space AU - Grantaire has to call on the amis to help rescue Valjean and Cosette, despite Grantaire leaving the amis 6 months before. On re-reading the Enjolras characterisation feels a little rushed, but overall fantastic story telling and the Grantaire arc is a Delight 

• Pandemos : Enjolras is aphrodite, and seeks peace from all his suitors in R/Hephestus' cave

• Pining for You : Hallmark christmas romance - Grantaire returns home to work on his father's tree farm, and Enjolras is the lawyer helping prevent the farm being sold - cute as shit imo

• Once We're Kings : Fantasy AU - a country hosts a ball to marry Prince Enjolras and the rival country sends Grantaire as a fuck you - one of the best ways of doing Enjolras as a prince in a fantasy and just really nicely written

• Never Bitter and All Delicious : Fairy Godmother AU - yes really, yes its genuinely a very good read

• On One Condition : Fantasy AU - Enjolras is a bored knight who finally goes to check out the local dragon, which turns out to be Grantaire - I really like how they capture Enjolras' stubborn nature and it's such a well written soft growth of love between them

• That's How Easy Love Can Be : Les Amis work at a primary school; and its secret santa time! very fun portrayal of Enjolras

• The Lark and Her Lieutenants : re write of canon where Cosette is the leader of the revolution - just *chefs kiss*

• If You Tickle Us, Do We Not Laugh : Grantaire is Enjolras' secret android - really good at writing a relationship that's incredibly loving but just keeps being antagonistic and coming off wrong 

One Shots

• True Colours : AU where you leave colours on the people important to you - Enjolras and Grantaire falling for each other is so soft and gently written its lovely, this is genuinely one of my favourites

• Keep It Kind, Keep It Good, Keep It Right : this one is so good to me, because it builds off my pet hatred of everyone assuming Enjolras doesn't care about (or at least actively show he cares about) his friends

• blooming : very soft post-dystopian utopia that has just a really wonderful sense of hope and light to me

• and the wall leaned away (or: The Pros and Cons of Tilling) : perfectly realised characterizations of the amis, Grantaire needs a date to her final year art exhibition - deals with anxiety over protest in a way that actually hits for me

• not just one of the crowd : R helps run a leftist bakery and bike repair shop - very cute characterisation, and I think more les mis fanfic should link to anarchist essays

• Lovesickness : Enjolras is an idiot and thinks he's sick rather than having a crush - the writing of Joly and Combeferre in this is some of my favourite depictions of these two

• If there's a rocket, tie me to it : absolutely heartbreaking sci-fi AU about the amis as doomed mecha pilots

• Where I Fall is Where I Land : Enjolras is a Roman commander as Rome's power is leaving England, and then meets the pict Grantaire (+ fun soulmark stuff !)

• You Started Foreign to Me : Enjolras moves to america and R is the overnight grocery clerk who helps her learn Spanish - cute fluffy lesbians with a wonderfully written driven Enjolras

• Love Is Touching Souls : very cute soulmate AU - and one I really love for really truly considering the implications of soul marks and creating historical lore around it

• Ten Years : R is a musician, and it non-linearly charts his relationship to Enj from high school to 10 years later

• put up with me then I'll make you see : Grantaire lives above Enjolras, and its christmas - I find it to have a very fun interpretation of pining Enjolras

• A Cat Called Trash Can : this was one of the first les mis fics I ever read (yes I know it says it was published in 2020, but I think it has to be a re-upload or something?) and it does still have a special place in my heart - Grantaire rescues a cat, but Enjolras is the only one with an apartment free to look after it 

• Still I'm Begging to Be Free : inception AU where les amis have to rescue a sleeping R from his own brain

•I'm in it for You : cw: illness, cancer - R has cancer and is being a martyr about telling his friends so Enjolras drives him back from chemo

• walls come tumbling down : sky high au - a very good high school AU with the perfect level of campy superhero powers

• This brave new world's not like yesterday : Enjolras needs a job, so ends up working in a bowling alley with Grantaire and bonding

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

• In Defiance of All Geometry : les amis are a student co-op house, Enjolras and Combeferre are pining friends and Grantaire is the newbie

• Still the Same : this is very good writing and very compelling - if you can get over the (imo) plot hole of Enjolras working for the FBI. R was an art thief Enj put away and is briefly helping the FBI out, and Combeferre is Enjolras' husband

• To Kingdom Come : cw: war and PTSD from that, Enjolras and Combeferre are part of a group of refugees that have crossed into a more fantasy land, and Grantaire is a lone traveller from that land that attempts to help - that was a shit summary of this very emotional, wonderfully written fic about war and love in all forms

• Gonna need (a spark to ignite) : I always love a twist on a classic trope, and this is a very fun take on the soulmate AU - Enjolras loses feeling in his soul mark as a child, falls in love with Grantaire and then his soulmate, Combeferre, turns up

Eponine/Cosette

• Pretty Girls Don't Know the Things That I Know : simply stunning writing - perfect example of soft writing about a harsh world

• she knows her way around : Eponine and Cosette bond, ostensibly so Eponine can find out about her for Marius, and their interactions are so playful and realistic, its wonderful

• always find me floating on oceans : Cosette stows away on Eponine's pirate ship - I do always have a soft spot for eposette fics (not just cause I ship it) because they truly characterise Cosette in a really considered and interesting way

• There's No Making Love : I'm putting this under eposette even though there is some significant enjolras/grantaire content, because the Cosette characterisation is so fun and cute

• round and round again : this fic really beautifully translates Cosette's bad childhood and then isolated teenage years, and the impact that would have on her as an adult into a modern AU

• Underwater Thunderheards : this is based off the book The Scorpio Races, and is just a really nice short fic  about longing

• How To Change The World Without Taking Power : Marius has a crush on Cosette and she's tried being polite and subtle in turning him down, so just ends up fake dating Eponine instead

• blood red fruit and poison's kiss : Snow White AU - Cosette as Snow White

• The Winters Cannot Fade Her : Snow White Au 2.0 - Eponine as Snow White - this was written as a pair to the one above which is just so cute to me

• marriage à la mode : Cosette and Eponine run a bridal shop together and it's very cute !

• Temporary Hold : I personally find this a really fun and very unique take on Cosette - with exams coming up she decides she needs to get laid on the reg and so hits up Eponine to act as if they're already long term girlfriends

Combeferre/Courfeyrac

• better than you had it : fake dating but kick it up an emotional notch - Courf and Ferre pretend to still be together after breaking up for a family event

• take flight, come near : nice and cute low fantasy, where Combeferre runs a dragon sanctuary and Courf finds an injured dragon

Rare Pairs

• The Future's Owned by You and Me : cute Enjolras/Feuilly with actual radical politics and real life organising difficulties and wins

• First Dates and Other Dangers : Combeferre and Grantaire agree to go on a blind date and it's awkward until it isn't - just cute !

• after midnight : Combeferre has insomnia and meets Grantaire in various all night fast food chains

• as you are : Bahorel and Jehan getting ready together

• Almost Romantic : Jehan works at a museum, and takes Combeferre on a little tour

• Understudy : Jehan/Combeferre, with Combeferre's insecurities regarding being seen as second best to Enjolras

• Here There Be Dragons : Courf/Enj/Ferre - Courf and Enj are superheroes and Ferre is the doctor that patches them up

• To Let it Occur (Laisser Faire la Nature) : Feuilly has a stupidly long stopover in Paris and meets Enjolras

• rule of three : Courf/Enj/Ferre as spies and loving boyfriends

• Good Rhetoric : snapshots of cute cuddly courf/enj/ferre

• subluxate, dislocate, replace : found family and chronic illness with Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta

• Strike stone, strike home (like lightning) : so this fic took one minor piece of lore about Tolkien's dwarves and made a beautiful j/b/m fic from it

• Almost Inevitable : Bahorel/Feuilly friends-with-benefits

• god only knows (what I'd be without you) : Bahorel/Feuilly with a closeted Feuilly and a beautiful Feuilly and Eponine friendship

#les miserables #fanfic rec #les mis #les miserables fanfic #les miserables fanfic rec

[pochiperpe90]

Beware of the thief

How do you become the longest-lived criminal in the history of Italian comics? For LUCA MARINELLI it all started as a child, at the zoo. Before the eyes of a panther

«The cold determination of a panther that silently approaches its prey: this is the expression I tried to instill in our Diabolik's gaze». When Luca Marinelli frowns and lights up the panther's eyes - the writer has had the opportunity to get a taste of it during the interview - the first instinct is to flee that look: too intense. It will be him, armed with a dagger and dressed in the famous tight black jumpsuit, with a hood that leaves only the icy eyes uncovered, to interpret the anti-hero born from the imagination of Angela and Luciana Giussani - the two sisters of Milan well known in history as the Queens of Terror - in the awaited cinematic adaptation of the comic directed by the Manetti Bros. (Ammore e malavita), in cinemas from December 31st.

«Fifty years in the homes of Italians. 150 million copies sold. Impressive numbers. Diabolik is an icon, it belongs to the IMAGINARY of hundreds of thousands of people"

During a walk along the Kreuzberg canal in Berlin, his adopted city since 2012, the Roman actor explains that the choice to be inspired by the feline for the interpretation of the character is not accidental. «Fans will know that Diabolik takes his name from a panther. Their meeting, which lasts a few moments, is significant: after a high-tension face-to-face, the feline decides to spare the boy, almost as if he had smelled a fellow in him. The panther was one of my favorite animals as a child. I remember like it was yesterday the day my parents took me to see it at the zoo, and my amazement in front of that creature, that night-black mantle, shiny and iridescent, with bluish reflections, and that deep, rhythmic breathing. Finally, particularly indelible in my mind is the feeling of sovereign calm that emanated from the animal». “From the beginning, I had a good feeling about this film,” continues the actor. «The first meeting with the Manettis, which I have been following with interest since the time of Zora the Vampire, took place in Rome, in the neighborhood where both Antonio and Marco and I grew up. They explained to me that they had a very specific vision of the character's personality, but that they would like to see what I could offer them. We auditioned together, which was very useful in igniting the spark of collaboration. I have a clear memory of that day and the subsequent exchange of emotions and thoughts. When I later found out that I was chosen for the part, I was very happy».

Luca Marinelli is certainly not new to acting challenges. From the dazed Mattia in ‘The solitude of prime numbers’ (2010), the character with whom he conquers notoriety, over the years he engages in roles that are not very easy, very different from each other ("The only thing they have in common is my nose", ironically, pointing to his face), showing great versatility and an extraordinary capacity for psychological identification. Among his most convincing interpretations, that of the Zingaro in ‘They call me Jeeg’ and that of Martin Eden in the homonymous film by Pietro Marcello, with which he won, respectively, the Silver Ribbon and a David di Donatello as best supporting actor and the Coppa Volpi as best actor. But dealing with a myth like Diabolik, the object of an almost sacred cult, is a new challenge.

«Fifty years in the homes of Italians. 150 million copies sold. Impressive numbers. Diabolik is an icon, and for this reason it belongs to the imagination of hundreds of thousands of people. If you think you can satisfy them all, you start off on the wrong foot: you risk that the final result is not what you really want to stage, but I'm sure the public will not be disappointed, or at least I hope. You will see how much love and respect there was in implementing this transposition", explains the actor, who speaks with full knowledge of the challenge of interpreting an icon: in 2018 he plays a true sacred monster, Fabrizio De André, in ‘Principe Libero’ by Luca Facchini. A friend told him: you're crazy to take this part. But he, careless, immerses himself in the biography of the singer-songwriter, ventures like a shrink into the maze of his psyche, and he returns to the man of that icon, receiving critical acclaim for that insidious role. The only flaw, some malevolent purists observe, is his Roman accent.

Despite being a comic book hero, to face Diabolik, the actor «decided to avoid any comic characterization of the character, trying to give a convincing representation from a human, psychological point of view. Who is this mysterious man, who with his criminal findings terrorizes the rich city of Clerville? What vicissitudes lead him to become a king of crime? Questions that have become the starting point of my research. For months and months, my flat was flooded with comics, scattered all over the place. And for every hundred I read, the Manettis - who I suspect know all the 800 and more numbers in the series - were ready to lend me as many». Day after day, Marinelli has thus sneaked into the lair of the King of Terror: he spied on his objects, opened his wardrobe, rummaged in his drawers. “I fell in love with him, unconditionally, without giving in to the temptation to express a condemnation or an acquittal. It is a precious lesson, which was passed on to me in the Academy: never judge your character. You risk that a distance will form between you and him which, I play hard, is negatively reflected in the quality of the interpretation».

The result is a film that is radically different from the first film adaptation, directed by Mario Bava, in 1968. "Among its strengths, there is a fascinating 1960s aesthetic, made up of machines, costumes, places and a thousand technological inventions of our Diabolik», he says. “To my great pleasure, I was involved in the discussion of the character's look right from the start. Particularly difficult was the development of the mask and the legendary black suit, designed by Diabolik himself and equipped with fantastic characteristics, not repeatable in reality. An almost impossible mission, but after weeks of attempts, thanks to the collaboration of all departments, we arrived at a result that was very satisfied: we did it by working together. I want to emphasize the all together. When you work with the Manetti Bros., this aspect is deeply tangible: everything takes place in an atmosphere of great exchange and collaboration. Many have known each other within the crew for years, and one almost has the impression of having been adopted by a large family, rather than working on a normal set ».

“Who is this mysterious man who terrorizes the rich city of Clerville? What led him to become what he is? For months these questions have been my RESEARCH"

The film - which the Manettis defined as "darkly romantic" - will also tell, to the delight of fans, the prodromes of the love story between Diabolik and his partner in crime, Eva Kant (Miriam Leone). "Two special, different people who first sniff each other with suspicion, only to recognize each other as soul mates," he explains. “I really like their level of complicity. Diabolik, however, is a very tough and reserved character, who rarely shows a feeling: this is certainly one of the differences, perhaps the clearest, between him and me. I am his opposite: as a good romantic and empathetic, I confess, I often cry. I think that doing so can be an important moment of openness, growth and awareness, which we should learn to actively seek. Are you feeling down? Play the saddest song you know and give yourself a treat: enjoy your tears, a friend once told me. Holy words: woe to keep everything inside. You run the risk of walling yourself up alive behind a senseless wall of hardness».

Although "very interesting", the actor prefers to gloss over future film projects out of luck. "At the moment my wife and I (the German actress Alissa Jung) are very busy with our association: we are about to open the headquarters of PenPaper-Peace in Italy, the association founded by Alissa in Germany, with which we built two schools in Haiti after the disastrous earthquake of 2010». As the actor launches into the memories of his first trip to the Caribbean island, the weeping willows of the Kreuzberg canal that framed the interview mentally give way, for a moment, to the lush vegetation of the Caribbean. «Indelible memories. Two years after the disastrous earthquake, I found a country on its knees, surrounded by rubble, pain and despair, but also many smiles and a contagious desire to live", he says. As the name of our association suggests, all you need is a sheet of paper and a pen, and you can give a child education, and with it a possibility, a future. And this not only in Haiti, but all over the world. At the moment we are focusing on a project in Italy that will support the boys and girls who are going through this difficult period of the pandemic».

GQ Italia

Just wanted to translate this interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)  

#Luca Marinelli #interview #diabolik #english #translation #magazine #GQ Italia

[spockandawe]

OKAY, here’s a cnovel rec for you: The Healer Demands Payment! 

I’m not done with this yet, but I’m going to go ahead and rec it anyways, because the novel is still in progress (the original work, not the translation) and the translation is up to about chapter 77/160, and I have no idea how far things are going to go past that 160 point. But I still feel incredibly comfortably reccing this, because I’ve had a great time so far, and a friend who’s read up to the end of the current translation hasn’t thrown up any red flags.

Now, the way I got here was feeling some shizunfucking cravings and idly trawling the master/student tag, and I thought this might be lesbeans. Sadly, no shizunfucker lesbians to be found in here, but what I found instead is still so sincerely delightful that I’m not even mad. It took me a little time to get far enough to confirm that the shizun in question is a dude, and while I might have been a little eurghhh at that concept before starting the book, by that point I was in deep enough that I am sold. (also, the framing is such that I can’t tell if our main girl is aimed for eventual monogamy or if she’s collecting a harem, and i’m guessing monogamy is more likely, but i won’t be mad either way tbhhhh)

The premise!! Meng Qi has had a second chance to do her life over (a la mo ran. transmigrating into your own past, reincarnating as your own younger self). In her first life, she was dedicated to following the path of the healer, and was deeply, deeply passionate about her work, and tried to do good and heal people. However, turns out! She’s just a supporting character! Cannon fodder! This story is about our female lead, and our female lead is not Meng Qi! All this time, as Meng Qi has tried to help people, those people have given credit to Lu Qingran, have suspected that she wanted to do harm to Lu Qingran, etc etc etc. If I was reading the book of her original life, I think it would have been too witch hunt for me to finish the thing. And, additionally, virtually every hot man who’s ever made an appearance on the screen has at one time or another pursued... Lu Qingran. In the end (I’m still not sure how, as of chapter twenty-something), Lu Qingran seems to have gotten Meng Qi and several of these nice(?) young men killed, while she swooned into their killer’s arms.

SO. This time around Meng Qi has learned her lesson. That lesson is FUCK ALL Y’ALL. 

That’s not exactly true, but she is taking a brutally practical approach to her new life. The first time one of Lu Qingran’s old suitors makes an appearance on the scene? Well, okay, last time she exhausted herself trying to cure him of poison for a solid week and passed out, only to be framed for him getting him hurt in the first place and thrown in jail for three months until someone got around to clearing her name. No! Thank! You! So this time he shows up, and he’s a fancy young man from a prominent sect, and she’s a teenager who’s only been learning (theoretically) for half a year. So she steps forward and says she can cure him..... in exchange for $$$$$$$

Like that, no karmic ties! No obligation! This is a nice! Simple! Exchange of goods!!!!

Yeah, so. At first he’s horribly offended, but I’m only like twenty chapters in, and he is INTO IT. At least one other guy has shown up too, who is also into it. These two chucklefucks are currently getting into catfights behind her back, because ‘she charged you that much money? but she only charged me this much?????’ and chucklefuck prime has started getting all blushuu when she extorts him

Like, legit, my girl has accidentally stumbled her way into a findom harem situation, and I am CHEERING. HER. ON.

Additionally! In her prior life, she had a shizun. And they were research partners (my god, they were research partners) and they developed a bunch of revolutionary new medical techniques together. Back in her new life, now, Meng Qi’s cultivation isn’t as advanced, she has no idea where her shizun is or how to find him, but she has all the theoretical knowledge that the two of them worked out together in another lifetime. Probably the biggest downside of this book is that it adheres very closely to the stages of cultivation with ‘nascent soul’, ‘golden core’, ‘soul severing’ and all that, but this conceit of her theoretical knowledge being leagues ahead of what she can accomplish with her current body makes it really work in a way that’s never clicked for me in the other xianxia books I’ve sampled with the strict cultivation stages. 

I’m preemptively in agony, because I can’t even MTL my way to the end of the story, the story’’s not all written yet. But I don’t even care, because this is so genuinely delightful. The two modern-day cnovels I just finished were fantastic as well, but there’s something about a high fantasy setting that always works for me, and this is exploring aspects of a xianxia universe that none of the other books I’ve tried have messed with yet. And also, I have no idea where the romance is going except that the story is tagged master/student on novelupdates, but I won’t be mad however this plays out, because 1) meng qi is a stone cold badass healer, and 2) every man in this story is an UTTER CLOWN. 

When I was talking about this with my friend, I think she nailed it on how to make sure that you write a good shizun into your story, and that formula is: clownery. As a rich young master introduced first thing, I knew that Chu Tianfeng was going to be a clown, and then when tyrannical young lord Qin Xiumo showed up, I knew he would be a clown too (his first appearance: tied, with his own belt, to the bottom of a pond). Su Junmo, the fox demon lord, was remembered by Meng Qi as an incredibly UGHHHHHHHHHHH part of her first life, so I was pretty sure I would love him (I do), and I have it on good authority that Meng Qi’s shizun is a clown in his own right. This book is so good. I was dithering on what to read next, because trying to get invested in something and having to slowly realize that it’s mediocre is a demoralizing experience, but this has been FANTASTIC. 

Finally, I have to quote the novelupdates page, because this was what sold me on this being my next book to try:

The cycle repeated, and eventually everyone she saved blindly loved the righteous female lead. Ultimately she was killed by one of the men who was entangled with the female lead.

……

So after her rebirth, she began to firmly adhere to the principle of ‘pay me first, then I’ll cure you’.

Male cannon fodders who love the female lead, charge them triple the fee!

Male side characters who are ambiguously entangled with the female lead, charge them ten times the fee!

Male lead, the most important one, charge him one hundred times the fee!!

Meng Qi, you’re doing so great, sweetheart, I support you and your accidental findom harem acquisition <33333

#also a baby tiger #this book has it all #the healer demands payment #long post/ #cnovel rec