#maybe i teared up a little making my own gifset
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You're n-n-not coming?
Not today, Bee.
#andor#andoredit#star wars#swedit#theforcenetwork#thestarwarsdaily#starwarshub#starwarsedit#cassian andor#b2emo#diego luna#maybe i did cry most times b2emo spoke this episode#maybe i teared up a little making my own gifset#*gifs#*sw#*bybeingfacetious
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At a family-adjacent event, someone from the other side of the family (who I know fairly well at this point) asked me "Have you ever read Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall?" She knows that I love reading and like talking about books, so it wasn't completely out of left field, but given how much I adore Wolf Hall, it caught me off guard for a moment. Yes, I replied, it's actually genuinely one of my favorite books.
She then started talking about the reasons she mostly hated it. And it wasn't from a perspective of dismissing my love or tearing it down. She talked about how much she admired the writing and about how much she disliked the characters. "He's such a difficult main character," she mused. Yes! I cried, he is!
The whole time, we had this conversation while explicitly coming from different places in terms of engaging with this piece of art, coming from different generations (classic Boomer versus Millennial), and seeking different satisfaction from the art itself. She had just finished the book and I read it years ago, when it came out. But even though we had fundamentally different experiences reading the book, we forged a fascinating conversation. We argued over the literary merits of having such a flawed, difficult protagonist, about what it means to like that (as I do), and more.
And it's these sorts of conversations that I think are sorely missing from fandom. This debate wasn't an argument and it wasn't passive acceptance of someone else's other opinion with no pushback. There were aspects that were obviously just down to taste, but other things were interpretative or contextual. When I compared Wolf Hall as a contrast to the film "A Man For All Seasons", she brought up "Anne of the Thousand Days". Our interpretations were different. Our experiences were different. But that didn't prevent us from finding the contact points.
I love being able to engage with art (as should be pretty obvious by this entire blog). I love watching or reading something and going "ah yes, here is something I liked" and then discussing it. I also often like saying "ah yes, here is something I deeply disliked". My dislike usually doesn't negate my like (if I have it) or even someone else's like (if I don't). Today, gifmakers will often bristle at the idea of tags that don't fully embrace the characters or scenes depicted in the gifs. But for me, part of sharing something is having that discussion. If I'm sharing a gifset, it's because I like it and I want to be able to address something particular in that gifset. Sometimes, I find a relationship compelling without necessarily shipping them; does that mean I can't/shouldn't share something that comes from a place of viewing them romantically, while elaborating on that thought? Maybe, maybe not.
"Make your own post" is the common refrain, but that's exactly what I find missing. Smaller fandoms sometimes manage to have these conversations, but there's a sense that it's always the exception. Fandom revolves around the love of a thing, often leaving little room for truly nuanced discussions of what does or doesn't work for others. Ultimately, I'm surprised and gratified to have found exactly what I was looking for at a child's birthday party, discussing a book I really loved between the salad and the cake. I just wish I could have it within my other fandom communities as well.
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hi keri!!
I have some really good news! I saw you and ken on a date (in my dream but eh, close enough sjshs)
it was a live theater date (they're doing mamma mia in my city shsh) and from where I was sitting I could see you and ken holding hands!! (don't ask how I knew it was you guys, I just did)
you seemed stressed or nervous about somthing but ken just gave your hand a little squeeze and caress like "keri, my sweet girl" then he gave your knuckles a kiss "apple of my eye" another smooch "owner of my heart" final smooch "everything is going to be fine"
I was watching this like 👀😮💘
side note: I hope this silly little dream I had can you bring you even a fraction of joy that it brought me. I know things are tough for you right now but I'm hoping things get better! I'm so annoyed that people have been copying "my sweet girl"!!
I will admit, ever since I sent the ask about how much I adore the nickname, I have been inspired to step up my game while selfshipping😌 which basically means I come up with sickly sweet nicknames bc "it's what keri and ken would've done🙇🏽♀️"
so yeah, sorry for the wall of text, I hope the rest of your day/night goes well!! positivity blast!!! 💖💗💘💓💝💕🌸🌺🌷🐶
-🍀
LUCKY CLOVER ANON SWEETHEART I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU YESTERDAY!!!!! :D I hope you're doing well!!! NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR WALLS OF TEXT I shall always welcome every single beautiful beloved word you bring into my inbox <33!!!!!!!
YOU HAD A DREAM??? ABOUT KEN WITH ME???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 WUWHUHWUWHWUHWHUUHW WOWWWWWW WOW WOW!!!!!!!! I am so!!!! honored!!!!! 😭😭💝💝💗💘💓💞💞💞 Thank you so much for telling me!!!!!!!!! What a treat!!!! What a dream!!!!!
That makes me feel SO much better ;-; thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to send me an ask!!! OOGHOGH AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR SYMPATHIES OMG it has been eating me uppp how far away I've felt from Ken lately, feeling very unlovable and replaceable and the "sweet girl" ordeal was like the cherry on top. ofc it's not like I invented the pet name "sweet girl" or anything like that, and of COURSE it's fine if other self shippers want Ken to call them that, BUT I JUST DON'T WANNA BE TOLD ABOUT IT ESP ON MY OWN POSTS AND IN MY OWN INBOX?? SLFJSDFL??? especially when they're like "i took that from your comic btw :)" like WOHOAOOH!!!! WHOAH??? [spongebob voice] BACK IT UP. BACK IT UP. BACK IT UP 🚚 !!!!! I understand these ppl are saying it nicely and I am flattered they loved my comic/pet name idea THAT much but it... stings so bad omfg it HURTS, BRO........... the pet name is so personal to me/my story with Ken and it feels weird for me to now write/draw him saying it to me and no longer thinking he's talking To Me anymore :( BUT!!! i hope i can fix that by spending more time with him (watching Barbie, watching interviews, making gifsets, making art/fics) plus when I go out of town in a couple of weeks I'll stay completely offline for 10 days straight bc I won't be able to watch him sing I'm Just Ken at the Oscars (no cable where I'm going WAH) and I don't want spoilers. and. tbh maybe spending time offline from this hellsite will help Fix Me 🔨✨
I am so. WOWOWO i've read this 5 times in a row AND THE FACT THAT YOURE SUBCONSCIOUS CONJURED HIM BEING SO SWEET??? TO ME??? OF ALL PEOPLE??? Kissing my hand wtf that's one of my favorite Kisses... I think being kissed on the hand is one of the most loving and tender sweet things in the world... hand kisses + neck kisses are my absolute favorite and wowoowowoowwwhuhwuwhuhwhu LAYING ON THE FLOOR IN A POOL OF MY OWN TEARS THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!!!!!! and the fact that we'd go to a live theater date!!!! BRO!!!! BRO THAT'S SO ROMANTIC I LOOOOVE LIVE THEATER 🥺🥺🥺💙💙💙💙
LUCKY ANON!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOO!!!! SO SO SO HAPPY YOU'RE STEPPING UP UR GAME SELF SHIPPING!!! "because it's what Keri and Ken would've done" made me SQUEAL swinging my legs in my chair and drumming my desk!!!! I was all excited and needed to let my energy out SLDKFJSLKDFHSDF THIS IS SOOO SWEET!!!!!! Coming up with special nicknames make self ships feel so... idk the word, it makes it feel so much more wholehearted and tender and soft!!! like it's a special connection JUST for the two of YOU!!!! Any time I have a main F/O I try to make them call me something that isn't just the generic "baby/darling/sweetheart" (though I DO use those pet names QUITE often on many, if not all, of my ships) but there is just something about having them call you something pertaining to the ship itself, your story with them, something you know they wouldn't call anybody else But You!!! whether it's them calling you your favorite flower, or something they find synonymous with you like a dessert or a star, or even your own name but rhymed with something else, something silly, or something inspired by a lyric of Your Song that the two of you share, it's just!! it's SO SPECIAL I absolutely adore doing it, it makes the ship feel quite exceptional imo!!
I AM GIVING YOU THE BIGGEST HUGS IN THE WORLD AND ALSO DONUTS!!!!!!! 🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩💕💕💓💓💗💖💗💗💓💓💞💕💟💟💝💘💞💞💓💓💞💕💕💕💕💕 I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOUUUU THANK YOU FOR YOUR SWEETNESS!!!!!!!!! I hope you have the BEST DAY EVER 🥰🥰🥰🥰☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️!!!!!!!!!!
#anonymous#asks#keepsake#🍀 anon#💌💐#💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-#weepy over Ken telling me that everything will be OK while kissing my knuckles#HE IS MY PRINCE 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#thank you so much for telling me this im SO SOFT#i will carry these words with me to work today#i will be tiredly checking in huge trucks and unloading heavy boxes while thinking of ur ken carson dream..................
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HIIII so… i finally got to see hadestown this weekend (the national tour production) w two of my best friends 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 i knew we were gonna see it for months but i didnt want to post abt it beforehand / acknowledge it in any way after making plans bc i was scared i would jinx it like what happened when i posted / talked abt seeing shows on the west end and then covid hit and sent me home lol. but i can’t believe i finally saw it!! it doesn’t feel real and honestly didn’t until right now as im writing this….. being in the theater was truly an out of body (and mind lol) experience for better or for worse. this was my first time seeing a show since covid and im soooo glad it was this one given how much it’s meant to me for all these years 🥹💗
i have a lot of thoughts on the production and also the plot / story so here they are lol:
production thoughts
for context ive never seen a hadestown 👢 before, i told myself that i wanted my first experience of seeing it to be actually seeing it in person. but ive listened to the obcr 5798673594 times over the last 3 years and the songs have become thoroughly woven into my life... so that made for a really weird experience where i knew every word but was watching it unfold for the first time and yet i knew what was coming for the most part. that also could be chalked up to the fact that ive seen so many gifsets and have read so many posts about other ppl seeing the show so i did know about some visual things.. but yeah it was just weird what i knew / expected and what i didnt lol
my friends and i sat in the back right corner of the mezzanine (like the LITERAL corner. no chairs behind us or next to us and the exit right next to us) and sadly the balcony in the set was cut off for us so we had to keep leaning across each other or scrunching our heads down to see the action up there :~/ but it was ok
i think bc of the above two bullet points + the fact that i really did not let myself believe that i was going to see the show bc i was scared of jinxing it + me having depression / possible derealization issues that i did not have when i first got into this show... i was kinda numb the entire time which sucks a little. i cried a couple times (happy / disbelieving tears in road to hell (persephone's entrance specifically for some reason, idk why it wasnt the "aight"s LOL) and any way the wind blows, sad tears in doubt comes in) but i didnt really... process anything in the moment or really experience the epic highs and lows of it while watching it. i just generally wasnt very moved! and im processing the show right now for the first time. and that kinda sucks and is unlike me and unlike what i thought seeing it was gonna be like. in a similar vein i found myself really focused on whoever was in the spotlight and im kinda mad at myself for that bc this is a show where SO many little details / context clues are communicated when ppl are in the background. but its fine i guess, i may be in a weird place mentally but i got to see it and maybe i'll see it again someday and be more moved
the cast was PHENOMENALLLLLL. j antonio rodriguez was our orpheus and he was the standout for me, his singing and acting as were breathtaking! i was frustrated about hannah whitley (eurydice) though bc like (and i feel bad for saying all of this)... nobody can be eva noblezada but hannah was missing a lot of notes / singing off key and kept like.. idk what the technical term for it is but she was kinda singing on her own beat and adding in a lot of pauses or rushing into things instead of staying on pace with the music and also she kept kinda revving up into the high notes and all of it grated on me. but i grew warmer to her singing in act 2 and i really appreciated her acting throughout! i didnt rly have many thoughts about hades (matthew patrick quinn), persephone (maria christina oliveras), or hermes (nathan lee graham) aside from ADORING all of their performances and what they brought to the roles compared to the obc! and the fates (dominique kempf, belén moyano, courtney lauster) / ensemble (kc dela cruz, colin lemoine, sean watkinson, shavey brown, raquel williams) / musicians were INCREDIBLE and had such amazing chemistry with and between each other :~D
antonio made for a bolder more charming orpheus and hannah made for a darker moodier more tortured eurydice which was interesting. but (and maybe this was just me dealing with the whole numbness / already knowing what to expect thing) i wasnt really convinced about their love story (specifically the early parts of it in act i as they were falling in love) or that orpheus in particular was insecure and vulnerable to the fates. but they did have some good chemistry in act ii especially and i was rooting for them so hard despite knowing wht was to come :~(
i knew that on broadway they have that little elevator in the center of the stage so i was curious about how it would work in the tour and... they had this giant oven box thing with moving doors! i actually really liked that, it made the whole idea of traveling to / from hadestown seem more sinister. that said i was kinda bothered by it during doubt comes in because orpheus and eurydice had to walk around the entire stage to make sure eurydice was positioned in front / inside of the oven and it kinda spoiled the ending in a way (even though we all know how that ends)... im guessing that on broadway its less exaggerated and you dont see it coming bc all eurydice has to do is just move over to the side a little. but idk i'll finally let myself watch a 👢 and see what the difference is
i couldnt take my eyes off of hades and persephone during promises. they started the song with hades kneeling with his head against persephone's stomach and then he stood up and they just hugged.... for a LONG time. like at least 3-5 minutes. and i was like god i wish that were me and i was thinking about what that mustve been like for the actors playing them.. like if thats a moment that they share and look forward to or whatever bc i know i would. it made me think about jenna's dear baby monologue in you matter to me LOLLLL
i saw from another post i read on here (as i was pregaming for the show by scrolling thru my hadestown tag LMAO) that orpheus runs through the audience at one point? and he didnt do that for us that i saw which i was bummed about. maybe thats just a broadway thing
i had no idea the set splits open during wait for me!!! it was so cool
i also didnt know / fully realize that hades produces a flower for persephone during epic iii 😭 the tears in my eyes... also speaking of epic iii hades singing the lalalalalalalaaaa got a LAUGH and i was so MAD!!!!! i get that its kinda funny because it just sounds so weird in his voice and its a startling moment... but that pissed me off bc the moment is supposed to be so tender and heartbreaking and the audience didnt appreciate that.. augh.
since its pride month the set was initially lit up with rainbow lights and in act ii hermes had little rainbow tassles on the ends of his sleeves!! :~D
plot / story thoughts
another context bullet point to kick us off: i discovered hadestown in the spring / summer of 2019 which was an INCREDIBLY formative time for me and so many aspects of the show (creative expression as a tool / forum for bringing about the world as it could be (and illuminating the possibilities in the world as it is), discovering that you have agency, love / loyalty / betrayal / sustenance, finding your purpose, etc.) were profoundly relevant to things that i was awakening to at that exact place and time in my own life. so i went into this experience hoping to have more insights like the kind i had when i first listened to the obcr... and i didnt really. i mean i had some but they didnt feel as profound i guess? and again that may just be me having mental health issues now that i didnt have then.. but that was a thing that i was aware of and kinda sad about. so yeah
that said... the main thing along those lines that i did take away (which really only hit me while watching epic iii / promises) is like... love is agency is love is agency is love.... or something like that. at least that they coexist and happen together. the oppressive conditions in hadestown and the poverty in the overworld strip the gods and humans alike of... their humanity (which is weird to apply to the gods but still)! their sense of self, and their love for each other and the world. the moment that became clear for me was in epic iii when the workers took off their goggles one by one and it was like.. they could See again! they could see themselves and each other, they were holding hands with each other and singing together. and they saw a future that they could create together. and hades was letting persephone dance and she kept spinning away from him with her arms outstretched like a bird but then coming back... idk. im not articulating this well and i need to think about it more and let it simmer for a bit and maybe watch a 👢 to get all the details. but it was like yeah... the opposite of capitalism imperialism etc etc is love and agency and they go together and they are the same thing.
another thing i need to think about more: orpheus went to hadestown all by himself to get eurydice! how come he was so confident then? he was LITERALLY alone. he didnt know where she went or if she would come back with him. and he didnt have the workers following him (though they were there in wait for me swinging the lamps, but i interpreted them as being like... part of the scenery i guess). he was completely alone and operating off of hope AND THE FATES TAUNTED HIM TOO and he was like... fine! so then in doubt comes in.. when he has all these people including eurydice following him... like idk. maybe its just because he'd confronted hades who couldnt fully be trusted and he knew that eurydice had turned her back on him and stuff... like maybe its just because on the journey back he'd experienced things that caused him to doubt / mistrust the people he was journeying with / from and that's what made him vulnerable, not so much the physical loneliness but the emotional loneliness that comes with a betrayal. which is something i just realized typing it out lol. but that kinda agitated me bc its like... he was FINE the way up so why did he crumble on the way back :~(
doubt comes in is such a fucking GUT PUNCH btw. i wanted to cry harder but didnt let myself bc i didnt want to be too loud or soil my mask. but i was so so scared to see it and it devastated me. its just so... SAD. and its so... like i relate to / identify with orpheus SO much yes in part because of the creative expression / seeing the two worlds thing but also because of doubt comes in specifically. its just so so so sad. he had all of these people including the person he loved most cheering him on and echoing to him. and he couldnt hear them. and he couldnt internalize how much they loved and believed and trusted in him. and he turned. that is so wrenchingly real. and it hurt so bad to see it playing out on the stage knowing what was about to happen and then WATCHING it in all the brilliant horror. like thats another insane thing the way the lights get so wildly bright. actually now that i mention that i think the lights are brighter in hadestown when bad things are happening. like hades saying I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY etc etc. that could be a whole post. someone should make that
im thinking a lot about The Song and whose song it is and actually WHICH song it is. bc if you think about it... so we're introduced to the lalalalalalalaaaa and whatever song that is which builds in the epics. and that song incites a lot of action like orpheus (quite literally!) tuning out eurydice which causes her to choose to go to hadestown, and hades realizing what love is and whatever. but another song that is equally if not more catalytic is.... IF IT'S TRUE!!!! bc thats the song that sparks the revolution among the workers and gives orpheus hope that he almost lost after learning about eurydice's betrayal and inspires eurydice to fight for something instead of succumbing to her fate. and in wait for me reprise when eurydice is singing "echoing OUR song" "the falling of OUR feet" ... like they're not alone as just the two of them, the workers are coming too!! so which song is she referring to! what if it's actually "if it's true" and the hopes that orpheus has stirred up about what the world could be?
btw speaking of orpheus tuning out eurydice... im sure this point has been made 5476463979 times but its rly interesting to think about how love languages (for lack of a better way to put it, ik that can be kinda reductive) work in this show. eurydice and orpheus both attempt to address the storm but the ways they choose to do it are different / dont align: eurydice tries to manage the short term by searching for food and firewood, while orpheus works on the song that will bring spring back and stop this kind of disaster from happening again. but iirc they dont talk about how they're going to take these two different but equally important strategies — eurydice at least interprets the song as being unimportant and orpheus just... straight up seems unaware of the food / firewood thing also being important. so theres a communication failure and eurydice interprets the silence as abandonment (for good reason, also relatable) and turns her back (ha!) on orpheus. and then with hades and persephone... hades does all these big flashy power gestures to show his love for persephone but it's the exact opposite of what she wants and they dont see eye to eye about how to express their love for each other either. yeah
speaking of eurydice making that choice... like yeah. sigh. betrayal is such a huge thing in this show. trust and betrayal. eurydice was (kind of) leading orpheus through the immediate short term danger of the storm and she turned on him. and the fact that she did was part of the reason orpheus turned on her. they made their vows in promises that they would walk side by side but he couldnt get over it (partially bc they literally weren’t allowed to physically walk as they planned but still). and eurydice said "im right behind you and i have been all along" and its like no you havent been thats the entire plot of the show lol (again for understandable reasons but still!)
another thing im sure has been analyzed 456456984 times but its interesting to think about hermes watching everything playing out while knowing how it will end and not choosing to intervene. idk what that means and my laptop is running out of battery so im not going to dig into it but im just thinking on it. BUT ALSO THAT GOES FOR US AS THE AUDIENCE like so many ppl probably know how it ends and maybe some ppl are seeing it multiple times and its like... anyone could intervene and change the story (within reason ofc). also goes for the other ppl on stage too like the musicians etc. its just interesting to think about the implications of that and what would happen if someone tried it both "in character" and "out of character" i guess
its interesting to think about the role walls play in the show too. like the wall hades is making the workers build to keep out the "enemy" and keep them (him) powerful and prosperous in their (his) isolation vs the walls repeating the falling of feet, echoing songs... letting people know theyre not alone. and the fact that that doesnt happen in doubt comes in even though orpheus is being followed by a whole crowd basically. idk. fascinating
ok those are all of my thoughts i think! i also saw some interesting posts / takes that im going to rb again bc theyre on my mind as i interpret the show but i dont want to put them in this post bc theyre not my original thoughts. ty for reading if you did :~D this is a glorious new era in rumpunch nation im so glad and grateful that i can finally say ive seen this beautiful show!
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“ i just wish you’d notice me. " for sebmey please?? 😊
I hope you don't mind Anon, I got some fanTASTIC ideas for an AU to do this with my writing partner @grelleswife.. SO...
"I just wish you'd notice me," bemoaned Mey Rin, in one very lonely corner of the bookstore she now worked in, but continued on her journey of arranging and putting up new books on the shelves.
This whole job had been a dream come true, actually, and even if she had to work through even all of December, she wouldn't mind!
It was just..
Once again Mey Rin found herself running into a new crush, head on, no breaks in sight, and even KNOWING before trying anything.. it probably wasn't going to work at all.
This time the crush in question happened to be.. well, the very stereotypical tall, dark haired, quiet and likely brooding type.
God you need to stop bein' so predictable, Mey berated herself in her brain as she went on, day after day, trying to get to know this guy at least, trying to get something, ANYTHING out of him.
For some reason the most annoying PART was.. he didn't LOOK annoyed with her or brush her off openly. He looked RIGHT AT her when she tried to start a conversation, nodded and mumbled assessment or disagreements. His pretty, dark brown eyes actually staying focused on her and what she was saying.
But again, the whole TALKING thing...?
"So you um, live near by t'make it easier t'get here?"
"Mnn." Sounded kind of like "not really".
"Uh, have you worked here long?"
"...Hmn." Sounded like "yeah basically".
"W-what about this weather, huh? You.. do you like this time of year?"
"Mhm.." Sounded like "I don't mind"... Maybe. Or "I don't care".
AUGH, she was going to tear her HAIR out, he was SO DAMN CUTE and SO DAMN INTERESTING!!!
But he like so MANY dudes like him, probably thought she was a silly, peppy, boring girl and he probably was gay and he probably actually ranted online somewhere about girls like her and how annoying they were.
So, again, Mey was just so done.
She sighed as she finally took a break from bending and kneeling and reaching to just pull out her phone and check her tumblr dash real quick.
As usual some wacky memes were mostly getting reblogged, as well as gifsets of recent awesome shows Mey had no time to check out right NOW but she'd so get around to it on some off time, like the weekend. Probably would binge right through it.
She was just about to make a new post real quick to make a vague post about her current situation when--
"H-Hey, Mey Rin.."
The woman was frozen where she was squatting there in the corner, staring at nothing, not even her phone anymore.
Was that...
Was that who she thought it was???
"Uh.. I just... uh... is that... tumblr?"
Mey Rin wanted to scream. She didn't know if it was a good scream or a bad scream but just overall this predicament made her want to SHRIEK and cower or.. something!!
But she forced herself to get up, ignoring her face getting hotter and hotter as she stumbled up and shifted about, looking anywhere but.. but AT HIM...
"Oh uh, um, yeah, it's um, I.. I have an account an' have fer awhile, uh, just to stay up t'date on some things I like an' some friends I have and-"
"I, uh--" Sebastian suddenly was stepping up closer, practically tearing his own phone out of his pocket and, lifting it for her to see, "H-have one too."
His voice.
His voice his voice his VOICE...
Sebastian's voice was deep, sounded like it belonged to some guy MUCH older, was a bit cracked, though..
As if.. maybe he rarely used it, perhaps??
But..
Oh god his voice..
"M-Mey??" He suddenly broke through Mey Rin's little eargasm, and she beheld him staring at her in the BIGGEST concerned puppy look she'd ever seen on a guy.
"I'm.. I'm sorry, I.. did you uh, say somethin' 'bout tumblr??"
"Yeah, uh, just, I.. h-have one too, and uh.. w-we could follow each other and uh, we can also ch-chat on there, especially when we can't.. " He waved his arms about him and the area they were in.
Mey Rin held back the urge to squeal right there.
"OH, um, yeah!! That uh, s-sounds so good!! Uh- h-here, um, here's my tumblr--" She got carefully closer to hold her phone up and tapped through to her blog to show him.
Sebastian nodded and looked on with so much interest, and then quickly proceeded to go through finding it on his phone and following her, and then proceeded to awkwardly show her his blog.
Which was filled with tons of posts on elegant gothic fashion, black cats, Fall themed posts and Halloween themed posts, quotes from old literature, MORE CATS AND CAT MEMES IN GENERAL.. ect ect.
Mey Rin found herself awkwardly reblogging a few ten to twenty things from his blog in a row..
But found herself floored when she saw notifications that he was liking and reblogging some of HERS too!
And THEN in a few days, they were chatting on tumblr messenger.
And Sebastian.. was hilarious.
He had SO MUCH more to say in text, SO MUCH more to express!!
By the way, you asked some things early on when you'd first started working with us.
Yeah I did but you don't have to answer!! 💕
I know but I felt awful since then since you asked some pretty reasonable stuff and I was so cagey..🙈 I'm sorry by the way, being only online so much when I don't have to work has just degraded my ability to talk.. Though I guess I've always been a bit like this.
It's okay Seb, I get it!! The internet has so fried my brain too lmao 🤪🤪🤪
Ahahaha yesss .. But again, I want to like make it up to you now, seeing as I can answer everything much better on here!
Okay uh, it's been a while since then but uh I think I asked you like: Do you live near by the store??
Unfortunately not really, I live halfway across town 😒 It's hell getting here through traffic every day.
Oh damn, I'm so sorry!! I'm surprised you keep up with it though, you never have been late from what I've seen!!
Um well
Lately it's been even more easy to put up with it
Uh since you started working here!!
jdyttyfg UM thank you??? 🙈🙈🙈🙈
Um I also asked if you'd been working here long?? AGAIN you don't have to answer these silly snoopy questions!
It's okay! I don't mind really! I've worked here I think two years.. Two and a half, maybe? Yes, that's about it.
Oh man, you should just RUN it now!! XD
LOL haha no way, that would be overkill even for me. I might be a perfectionist but even we have limits! 😬
Oof yeah I get that XD
Ummm I think the last thing I asked was like if you liked the WEATHER lmao, it was like, the dumbest last resort question and I'm SO SORRY dytugihij I just really couldn't think of anything else at that point and like 🙈🙈🙈 You DEFINITELY don't have to answer that
Well, I think I have mixed feelings about Winter. Due to.. rough family stuff I'd rather not get into. But I mean, overall, I DO like it..
Aww oh man, it's okay dude, again I won't press you!! Happy you decided to humor me this far though XDD 💖💖💖
Well uh I wanna thank you for asking ME questions, actually. And making things so much more fun.
I have a feeling this Winter is going to be so much better this time around. 🖤
grsedrjyfygi I hope so too!! I mean, we can always like, plan to hang out if you want, after work!! Uh if thats too sudden I understand!!! 💖💖💖
Oh wow uh
I was going to ask you that myself! 🤷
OMG rgesjtdyktgi
We are one brain cell right now.
Hahaha I think I'm okay with that. 😌
#kurositsuji#sebastian michaelis#mey rin#sebamey#kuroshitsuji au#kuroshitsuji modern au#drabble#my writing#I hope this is okay for a sum up of how it goes it's not very fluffy but I got lost a bit in the chat bit#It's kind of eeeehhhhhh#But HOPE IT READS OKAY GERRDYT#Anonymous
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Hi! I wanted to start by saying oh my god you are such a gift to the witcher fandom, I’m constantly amazed by your gorgeous gifsets and the incredible little details you notice across the seasons (for instance: the geraskier eyebrows 🤨 gifset? gold! and something I would never ever have picked up on otherwise)
I’ve recently started trying my hand at making a few witcher gifs because the brain seems incapable of letting these characters go, and it has meant the world to me when blogs like yours reblog something I make! My question is about tagging a tracked tag: is there a general tumblr etiquette (or do you have a personal preference?) on who/when/how often it’s okay to tag a blog’s tracked tag for a gifset? The extra exposure is really lovely, but I don’t want to overdo it or spam anyone. Thanks in advance!
oh my god, thank you so much, you absolutely lovely soul ❤️. whenever someone calls me a gift to the witcher fandom i always end up crying my own weight in tears, so. that’s definitely happening again 😭. thank you.
i can (gladly? sadly? who knows at this point) relate to brain seems incapable of letting these characters go, so i get you. :D and yeah! tagging someone new in my edits always makes me nervous, too. i mean, i can’t speak for all content creators on tumblr, but i’m sure this happens to a lot of us? personally, i always feel nervous when tagging someone new in my edits? even if we’ve been mutuals forever, and i know they like this fandom, there’s always that little nagging voice in the back of your head going but what if i’m bothering them? what if they get annoyed with me?
so, at least for me, if you tag me in your edits? you would never, ever, annoy me. at the end of the day, being tagged in something doesn’t mean that i’m contractually obligated to reblog it, you know? if you want to make sure that i see your post, and you’re posting about something that you know i love (like the witcher or our flag means death), feel free to tag me! in literally anything! sometimes i’m tagged in things for fandoms that i don’t really follow, which is absolutely fine, but there’s a good chance i might not reblog it.
the one and single thing that annoys me when it comes to tagging etiquette (and this might be just a pet peeve of mine, i don’t know) is if someone who doesn’t even follow me and i’ve never spoken to before tags me in something? it just feels like they’re going hey, it looks like you make a lot of gifs in this fandom and maybe you have a lot of followes, so i thought it might be cool for you to reblog my stuff, but i don’t like your blog enough to actually follow it. so, yeah.
tl;dr feel free to tag me in anything you think i’d like! don’t ever worry about overdoing it. <3 (also, your gifs are absolutely wonderful! thank you for tagging me in them!)
#aramblingjay#avia replies#oh sheesh that ended up longer than i meant :D#hope i managed to answer you ask properly somewhere in there
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okay but where is my hot helaegon wedding night these writers expect me to believe aegon creampied his sister?? PROOF. want to see with my own eyes.
I know this is a ship specific ask but tbh, why do we see so little of anything regarding the greens??
Like, we don't see Helaena/Aegon getting married, we also don't see Viserys/Alicent getting married but both of these scenes could've been direct parallels to the fucking awful wedding Laenor and Rhaenyra went through (that is by far my favourite episode from the show btw, I would've eaten up more weddings full of tears and terror, like pls give that to me).
Also, I just know that if we would've gotten a scene of Alicent walking 'down the aisle' (if you even do that in Westeros lmao) there would've been swarms of people making gifsets of that and putting it next to Aegon's coronation going ' Two Lambs willingly going to their own slaughter to please their family'.
Also also, this show is full of scenes where babes are birthed and yet we don't see Helaena birthing twins?? Like that's not an even bigger effort and more dangerous than birthing one babe?
(I heard that in the book, Rhaenyra dotes on Helaena, it would've been interesting if we would've seen her getting anxious hearing Helaena is gonna have twins, considering what childbirth did to her mother and yes I know she's not around when the twins are born, but word does travel, she must've heard of it. )
But considering we don't even see Maelor, what can we expect truly.
And just, the more I think about it, the more I'm like: !!!
They could've done so much in terms of paralleling both Aegon/Alicent and Aegon/Rhaenyra.
Like Rhaenyra, Aegon understands that it's his duty to produce heirs but does not restrict himself when it comes to seeking pleasure (unlike her, he doesn't get too much flack for it, which also could've served as an interesting dynamic between these two - which the writers do hint at, Rhaenyra being jealous of Aegon, but not just because he's a threat to her as claimant to the throne but also because simply by being a boy, he automatically has more Freedom than her).
But at the same time, Aegon has absolutely no Freedom at all! He has to do what is expected of him and unlike Rhaenyra, he can't fuck up too badly and still have the King on his side.
He's in a cage and he has the burden of needing to appease his Mother and his Grandsire just like Alicent had to please her Father and he knows all he can do is pull a little at the leash around his neck but run free? Never.
Anyway, both Aegon and Rhaenyra are mirrors of each other in the worst way (Both the queer ones, the debauched ones, the ones seen in brothels and known for siring bastards) whereas Aemond is 100% his Mother, the one to contrast his brother, the dutiful one, the one with value and honour.
And what about that wedding night you were talking about anon! Imagine Aegon on top of Helaena, eyes closed, grunting and thrusting with a pained expression on his face (and he's imagining he's far away, imagining he's fucking some servant girl or a whore but not his sister, never his sister) while Helaena is lying on her back, just taking it, looking off to the side and you're struck with this thought that - besides all the love Alicent has for her children - Helaena grew up to share the same Fate Alicent had to endure, confined in a tower, made to produce heirs, no worth to her other than her ability to conceive sons.
And maybe Aegon tells Helaena he's sorry (maybe after but maybe during, whispering the words into her shoulder when he's getting close, rubbing his tears into her skin) but Helaena just goes 'I know' with that far away look, and they don't cuddle but Helaena reaches over to hold Aegon's hand while he keeps sniffling and that's enough for the moment, more than their Mother would've gotten.
#anyway duty is just an endless loop of pain you're forcing your children through#Just like you had to endure pain and sadness and loneliness#in the name of honour or virtue or whatever else that's supposed to be greater than you#none of this makes any sense I am sorry anon#I know you wanted a sweeter take on their wedding night#thank you for the ask tho I love asks!#hotd#(also I am a firm believer that out of the two of them Aegon is the crier)#(He's a sniffling wheeping teary eyed pathetic weirdo hoping to garner sympathy)
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Hi!!
Hanya is such a beautiful name <3 Does it have an specific meaning?
And "collect boy groups" ahha I love that.. I'm still pretty new to the whole kpop universe, and so far only SVT, ATZ and a little bit of SKZ really got me to keep up with them... For some reason I never really got involved with girl groups and I don't know why that is, tho I certainly appreciate them and as a bi person... I just feel attacked from all sides hahahaha
Maybe the pressure on them to be 'perfect' is even worse than with the boys so they don't feel as genuine... idk... I know you said you collect bg but if you have gg recommendations I'm all ears
I love that you are also close with your family, my cousins all live far away but I love them soo much
AND YES QUEEN KRAKEN; I'm literally Bobby screaming "Kraken-ya" every time I rewatch the Wonderland stage haha... and no... atz definitely don't sleep I... I don't even try to HOPe they rest anymore (great meme btw heheh)
"to kill a monster with a skateboard in my crop top and boy shorts"... like, coolest sentence I've read in a while hahah
I used to sing in a choir from 8 until I was 18 years old, I was a soprano and really good at it, but without practice I've lost some of my mojo... But it doesn't stop me to sing along to every single song I can hahaha My dream would be to sing with Dokyeom... (my ult of ults <3). And I studied graphic design tho it was a very basic course and I never really used professionally, it became more of a hobby and I have some creations on my blog, but now I make more gifs (yes, I'm a gif maker haha) Is faster and a little less creatively demanding so is good to pass the time and relax... recoloring stuff is definitely my favorite part of the process (your gift will be a gifset btw haha I'm still deciding on what exactly)
I would LOVE to have acting classes and learn to dance and play an instrument too (piano would be my choice) and I feel like the group of people I would meet in these environments would be incredible, but right now I just moved on my own to a new country so money is kinda short hahaha But I keep an eye out for that and I learned that is never too late to start anything
I love that you say YunGi are normal height cause I'm 1,55m so... shorter than the shorties hahahahah I guess that's why I tend to stan giants (from my pov), must be compensating hahahaha
Do you mind sharing what you do for work? And where will you be traveling, that's exciting!! There was not much celebration per se on my birthday haha I knew my friends would all be working, so I booked a little solo trip and got to meet a new town nearby a had heard lots about... And people were definitely right, I loved the place and had an Amazing time!! One day before my birthday I managed to secure tickets to see Ateez in Madrid which I still cant believe!!! It will be my first big scale concert ever and I also gave myself a ticket to watch the ballet "Giselle" next week, so yeah, a pretty great birthday week/month hahah
I'm an ambivert with great people skills and I love my friends, but I LOVE my time alone as well, you know? 😅
Hoping for your excellent week to be realized 🤞🤞🤞
-Atiny Secret Santa <3
Aww thank youuuuu and no it doesn’t have a meaning it’s just the short, familiar, gender neutral version of my name lmao
I do collect them! I pick them up, inspect them, and put them in my bag. You’ve got good taste, “Hot” grabbed me by the throat and did not let me go for a second, the vocals on that are insane. When DK comes out fucking SWINGING?!?!?! I’m manifesting you getting to sing with him, he’s an S-tier fave, we love boys with big ass voices. I used to adore girl groups, but now they’re all so young that I can’t get into them. I remember being on stage as a teenager and 😬 So I still listen to all my 2nd gen nostalgia songs and follow the women in their 30s and 40s instead – when Kara sang “Step” at MAMA I might have teared up just a little. But none of these new girlies could do Hyolyn’s “Laying Low” so I’m fine. Anyway, if you like older girl groups (both have been performing longer and the members aren’t 17), check out EXID, they’re my favorite girl group – “Fire” wasn’t great, but they are, and I missed Solji so much.
Queen Kraken dominated that stage, I cannot beLIEVE she was robbed like that. smh even let Seonghwa ~kill~ her. We need them to sleep, they’re going loopy, I’m always excited for a comeback but I’m even more excited for a NAP.
It was SUCH a good film pitch. It’s about a bunch of skateboarders terrorized by a monster but they’ve all smoked too much and are too paranoid to figure out what’s going on, which is such a funny concept. I can’t skateboard but that’s fine cause the skateboarders can’t act.
Ooh another singer! Sorry you’re a soprano tho :/ (I’m an alto, I gotta get that in). But YES, it doesn’t matter if we sing seriously or nah, it’s so much fun to just belt along with the radio and music is all about enjoyment.
Oh nice! I admire gif makers, I can’t do it, I much prefer gfx (although I haven’t done one for Tumblr in a while orz), and I’m unsearchable on both of my blogs so I’m just like if I can make something annoying enough for one of my friends to chuckle sensibly that’s my goal. Recoloring is so fun but it’s still work, and then on top of all the other stuff to make a good gif set? You’re clearly so much more patient than me, even if it is meditative for you haha
Dude, it’s been so great taking classes again. I’m not any good at Meisner technique (my teacher yelled at me frequently, all of which was very deserved, and I respond better in the arts to brutal honesty and tough love, so my monologues are peak now) but it was amazing to get back into that space with such interesting people. There were some who were so annoying, but that’s the risk and it’s worth it imo. And you’re so right that it’s never too late to try, the secret is that there are fewer interesting roles for younger actors than older actors, and so you’re always growing into something better, even just good scripts to read in a class.
They’re, what, 185-ish? I’m 180, we’re sooooo normal. My fatal flaw is that I immediately assume the tallest male idol on stage is my dad’s height (196) and then when I find out they’re 180-185-ish I’m like oh so they’re normal! Normal height! It’s not our fault these other boys decided to stop growing! (Actually tho – my cousin was so mad when she moved to America for college and all her classmates weren’t at least 190. She scolded her dad for being 195 and skewing her expectations for American men, since he was the only American in their small town. If we point out that Japanese men also aren’t known for being 190, she says at least she wasn’t lied to.)
I work for the food and beverage department of a museum. I do the boring back-end invoice tracking, but when I’m on-site during the parties it’s wild. When parties are booked at the museum there’s a specific vibe – expensive and extravagant and ridiculous and a little bit tastefully tacky – and so it’s always just fun. The last one had a whole crew of dancers dressed as Lichtenstein paintings, in big dresses, bigger wigs, and stylized halftone makeup. A couple months ago was a sneaker ball, where people wore eveningwear and (WayV voice) thousand dollar shoes
I’m going to the Vatican! My dad’s there like yeah lmao you don’t have to come but his partner (deeply Catholic) is spiritually twisting my ear like “you witnessed a miracle, your father got out of a wheelchair, you are GOING.” I’m not meeting the Pope, but I get to watch my dad meet him, which I’m relieved about since I’m not Christian lmao.
Hey, sometimes you get your own little private celebration, and then a second celebration with friends! That’s totally cool! What town, if you don’t mind me asking? And congratulations~ Have so much fun (at both of them) and I want to hear everythinggggggg I’m not kidding I want a full rundown of your favorite parts.
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did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty
Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?
My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).
That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.
As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.
And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.
Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.
I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.
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your love takes me there, this I swear
buck loves just about everything about eddie - but he especially loves his hands.
or, musings on how buck fell in love with eddie because of his hands. inspired by this gifset of eddies hands and my utter lack of self-control!
ao3 link
Buck loves just about everything about Eddie. Really - the list of things he loves about Eddie is long, and possibly embarrassing, and ranges from the perfectly mundane like Eddie’s smile, to the downright cringey, like how much he likes the tiny, adorable snuffling noises Eddie makes when he’s sleeping on his side.
Buck loves everything about Eddie -
But he especially loves his hands.
Buck’s not entirely sure when he first noticed Eddie’s hands, but he thinks it was probably fairly early on in their friendship. It sort of came with the territory, noticing hands - hands that worked to save someone's life on a medical call, hands that fought fires. Buck probably noticed fairly early on, because he had to watch Eddie work, and how could he not notice that Eddie had quick, clever hands - hands that had clearly seen plenty of medical emergencies before and knew how to work quickly and effectively? He admired it - even underneath all his initial assholerely, Buck admired it. Eddie was a clever guy, and good at his job, and he’d been a threat, in the beginning, and then he’d quickly become Buck’s best friend in the entire world.
Eddie’s hands were focused, and clever, at work - they had been from day one. Buck, to this day, liked to sit back and admire Eddie’s hands when he could. Eddie’s hands were clever, and they were strong. Every day of his life, when Buck put his uniform on and started work, he put his life in Eddie’s hands, and Eddie had never given him a reason to question the unwavering faith Buck had felt from the moment they’d worked to save that man’s life in the ambulance. Eddie’s hands were the hands that Buck trusted to double-check his harness, when he was going to do a rope rescue - it was a job Buck had never really even trusted Bobby to do, always doing a third check when someone else had checked him over, just to be sure - but Buck trusted Eddie to do it. The routine was familiar, now - Buck would harness up, and Eddie would double-check every clip, every knot, tugging and tightening with a practiced ease and familiarity.
Eddie’s hands were the ones who would operate the winch, when Buck was doing a rope rescue. Buck always felt safe, knowing Eddie’s hands were the ones that were holding onto his rope, that Eddie’s hands were the ones his life was in. Eddie’s hands were the safest place Buck had ever known. Eddie’s hands were the ones he felt on his shoulder, during a fire, reassuring him that Buck wasn’t alone. Eddie’s hands worked alongside his, to wrangle hoses and pull victims out of fires. They were hands Buck knew as well as his own - hands that felt like an extension of his own, while they worked.
He noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and then he noticed how Eddie handled Christopher. Buck was probably biased, yes, but he firmly believed Eddie was the best father in the entire world. Eddie - he never babied Christopher, never made his son feel less than, he was never cold with Chris, never denied his son anything. The first time Buck met Christopher, he’d driven Eddie to Christopher’s school, and he’d watched as the hands that had saved lives in the aftermath of the earthquake had lifted his son into a relieved hug with a gentleness Buck hadn’t seen from the older man, until then.
Eddie’s hands were always gentle, and loving, with Christopher. Over the years, Buck had watched as Eddie’s hands had ruffled Christopher’s hair, hands that had helped Christopher with his crutches, hands that had supported and loved the little boy in all the ways Buck had never experienced in his life. He thinks - in hindsight - watching Eddie with Christopher only ever helped Buck fall completely in love with Eddie. Eddie was soft, and kind, and gentle, and patient with his son - even when Christopher was throwing the kind of epic tantrum Buck wasn’t sure he’d know how to handle, Eddie would simply give his son a firm look, and with gentle hands, direct him to the couch and explain that they needed to talk about their feelings - not shout about them.
How could Buck not fall in love with the hands that tucked Christopher into bed every night, hands that put Christopher’s glasses aside when Christopher fell asleep while they were reading - hands that easily lifted Chris from the couch and into bed, after movie night, hands that were raising the best kid Buck knew. Eddie didn’t give himself enough credit, if you asked Buck - because he was the greatest example of fatherhood Buck had ever seen, and he got to see it every single day. Buck felt like he learned from it - learned how to be a role model, putting Eddie’s parenting into practice as Jee-Yun got older and Buck’s role in her life felt infinitely more important than ever.
Buck noticed the way Eddie’s hands worked, first - and the way they loved Christopher, second.
The way Eddie’s hands loved him was the greatest revelation of Buck’s life. Looking back - Eddie’s hands had been telling Eddie’s secrets for years, long before Eddie himself had ever confessed his feelings for Buck. Buck remembered the first time they hugged - really hugged, and not the slap on the back, bro-style hugs that had dominated the first few months of their friendship.
No, their first real hug had been after the bombing - Buck didn’t like to think about those few months, all that much, and he liked to think about the time he spent in the hospital even less, but there was a moment that he liked to think about. Buck had been alone - which was rare, given the shifts the 118 and his family took to keep him company as he recovered - and Eddie had come, late, after a shift, and he’d found Buck crying. Buck had been too tired and emotionally wrung out to be embarrassed, and Eddie had simply wiped away his tears with those magnificent, healing hands, and he’d hugged Buck close, as though he could squeeze him hard enough and put all the broken pieces of Evan Buckley back together and from that moment Buck was sure the only place he could truly be happy was when he was being held in Eddie’s hands.
Eddie’s hands had told the story of his feelings long before Eddie had said the words out loud - hands that offered Buck coffee, on his bad mornings. Hands that took Buck’s keys from him, on the days he was too tired to drive, hands that bundled Buck into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. Hands that lingered and hands that held Buck close and hands that loved and said so much long before either of them had found the words for what had started burning between them so many years previously.
Buck remembered the moment it had all been set alight - and you’d have to forgive the ironic metaphor, for a firefighter, but he wasn’t sure there was any other way to describe how it felt to finally love Eddie loudly and freely - it was as though his body had been set alight with it all and Buck had been so fucking happy to burn because it was Eddie, and maybe that wasn’t all that eloquent but Buck would walk through fire every day of his life if it meant he got to have five minutes at the end of every day with Eddie - he was just lucky that he got Eddie for so much more than 5 minutes, he got to have Eddie all the time.
Eddie had kissed him first. Buck would always remember the moment - the way their argument seemed to stop, right in the middle, because suddenly, you could cut the tension between them with a knife and something shifted and changed and Eddie was cupping Buck’s face in those beautiful hands of his and he was kissing Buck like he was worth something and pleading with Buck to understand that regardless of anyone else - Eddie couldn’t live without him.
Buck loved being loved by Eddie’s hands. Over the years, it felt like Eddie’s hands had mapped every single inch of Buck’s body - Eddie’s magical, magnificent hands knew exactly where to touch, where to tickle, where to hold. God - Buck would never get over how it felt to be held by Eddie. Eddie had big hands - and the multitude of entirely not PG fun that brought about aside - Eddie’s hands were big enough to make Buck feel held. Eddie’s hands felt like they spanned the entire expanse of Buck’s ribcage, familiar and grounding when it felt like Buck’s lungs were being crushed with the weight of the anxiety that felt like it was never going to let him be, even after years of therapy and talking and recovery. Even then, Eddie’s hands were steadying, keeping Buck above water.
Buck loved to hold Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hands - just like the rest of Eddie - were warm, warm and calming and familiar and Buck took every opportunity he could to link his fingers with Eddie’s - across the centre console of the car, in the grocery store, sitting on the couch watching TV after Christopher had gone to bed.
Buck could write a novel, about the way Eddie’s hands felt - calloused, and a little rough, the result of a life spent working manual jobs that required those helpful, healing hands of Eddie’s. They were still soft, though - soft, and warm, and familiar, and the greatest comfort Buck had ever known, whether that comfort was in a ridiculous haunted house Chimney had forced them to go to (it was, in Buck’s defence, actually terrifying, and he’d been justified in holding onto Eddie’s hand with a death grip), or whether that comfort was the steadying presence of Eddie by his side as his doctor had quietly admitted Buck’s yearly scan of his leg had shown a strange abnormality. Hands that had held Buck close as he panicked, and cried, hands that had shared in Buck’s joy as everything had turned out to be just fine.
Hands that had shaken, as he’d proposed to Buck. They’d talked about marriage, in that vague, far off, maybe one day sense - and if Buck was being honest, he wouldn’t have minded if they had never gotten married. What they had, the love he and Eddie shared, was too big to be described only by marriage and a ring - but Buck couldn’t deny the thrill that had gone down his spine as Eddie had gotten down on one knee and produced a ring with shaking hands and asked Buck to make it official.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Buck hummed happily, leaning back against Eddie as his husband slotted himself behind Buck on the couch on their hotel balcony, bracketing Buck’s hips with his knees. “Just thinking,” he said, marking his place in his book, twisting a little so he could look at Eddie. The four days of glorious, uninterrupted sunshine had done wonders for Eddie, a healthy glow to his skin that could only be the result of a slow, lazy, ‘we’re not doing a single adventurous or touristy thing’ kind of honeymoon.
“About good things?” Eddie asked, those glorious hands of his threading through Buck’s hair, familiar as they tugged at his salt-water matted curls.
“About you,” Buck admitted, twisting his fingers with Eddie’s, taking a second to admire the bright platinum wedding band that sat there - a wedding band Buck had put there only a few short days ago. It was simple, plain and thin to anyone who might give it a passing glance - and engraved on the inside, decorated with words that would only ever go a fraction of the way of explaining the love that Buck felt for Eddie - love that consumed him in the best and brightest and most welcome ways.
“I’m right here,” Eddie reminded, as though Buck could forget that he was on a blissful, week-long honeymoon with his husband in a very fancy, very quiet, five-star hotel. It had taken them a long time to get to where they were - and so they had decided they were going to savour every single second of their first week of marriage.
“I know,” Buck reassured, pressing a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I was just reminding myself of how much I love you.”
Eddie’s smile was the most glorious thing Buck had ever seen - forget art, and music, and ancient cities full of history. No, Eddie Diaz’s smile was one of the greatest wonders of Buck’s world. “I love you too,” Eddie reassured, his other hand coming to rest on Buck’s chest, right where his heart was, and a part of Buck wanted to scream it in time with the thrum of his own heartbeat, to try and make Eddie understand what Buck still felt like he didn’t have the words for - it’s yours, it’s yours, it belongs to you.
Buck loved Eddie’s hands - hands that healed, and helped, hands that had given Buck hope, hands that loved.
Hands he was going to get to hold onto forever.
#911 fox#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie fic#in which i ramble#in which lorna writes fic#its just 2k about eddies hands don't @ me i know i have a problem
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part
(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.
My Found Family Came to Find Me
Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him.
Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards.
By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.
Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.
Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."
Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.
They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become.
(more behind the cut!)
They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.
Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000
Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.
Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king.
Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future. In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.
They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently. When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.
Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.
Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her
The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.
Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form.
Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?
This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.
The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them.
Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?
Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!
Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together.
Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having. But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.
After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.
Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.
Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.
Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...
The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.
You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.
So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?
That’s better.
Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm.
Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!
Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.
Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!
....and now he's gone again. *cries*
Hares On The Mountains
Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy.
Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains
Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains
Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains
If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting
Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.
Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.
Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.
For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.
Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.
What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.
In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.
Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span
Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng
#fytheuntamed#the untamed#the untamed gifs#chengxian#cql#restless rewatch the untamed#canary3d-original#my gifs
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Queer Movie Review #24: Summerland
This movie was suggested by my new girlfriend, so we made a date night out of it. Shockingly, I had never heard of it before, even on Tumblr! I wasn't sure what to expect, other than a period drama, but I was floored.
Summerland, starring Gemma Arterton and Lucas Bond, tells the story of a young boy taking shelter in Kent during the events of WWII. Frank shows up on Alice Lamb's doorstep, and Lamb is far from thrilled. She's working on her next academic work, and can't be bothered to take in a kid. But Frank has nowhere else to go, so Lamb reluctantly agrees to take him in for one week, and not one moment more. Summerland is the paradise of pre-Christian England. Lamb wants to find the origin of the urban legend of the island in the clouds, and Frank happens to be the one to spot it first. It sparks an unlikely friendship, and connects Lamb to the past she had lost forever.
So, like many other queers out there, I have a rough history with queer period dramas. Too many of them have little but pain, suffering, and sometimes death for our queer protagonists. I was hesitant when my girlfriend suggested Summerland, but I also have a hard time turning down any queer movie. Boy, am I glad I tried it out! Sure, Alice faces a lot if discrimination--the village kids like to stuff her mailbox with trash and they call her a Nazi witch. And we see Alice brrak down in tears when she receives Lucas's acceptance. But! We see a lot of queer joy too. Alice meets Vera (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) at a party in the Roaring Twenties. And nearly every moment they spend together is paradise.
In fact, that seems to be the message of this movie. Summerland is not found off the distant shore, but in the families we create. We make our own paradise when we open our doors and let people past our defenses.
The scenery in this film is lovely. It's perfect if you're looking for a cottage-core, sapphic dramas. I was honestly surprised to find few gifsets of this one. The aesthetics alone are worth their own post.
I also love the characters. Frank is adorable and must be protected at all costs, from the first moment he appears on screen. Even Alice Lamb is likeable in her own way. Maybe it's the writer in me. I found myself rooting for all the characters (except maybe some of the mean kids at Frank's new school.) And the ending had me in tears--HAPPY tears.
Would I recommend this movie? Fuck yes. Go watch it. Go watch it now!
Queer Movie Review Masterlist
Recommend a Queer Movie
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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
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can't un-sing a song that's sung.
Summary: The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.
Tags: drug use, overdose, hurt/comfort, guilty derek & hotch, angst with a hopeful ending, bedside vigils, protective derek & hotch
NO MCD
Pairing: Gen (Platonic Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid; Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid)
Word Count: 1.8k
Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo
Major TWs, obviously. I'm just so angry that no-one did anything about Spencer's addiction in season two, so I decided to punish Derek and Hotch by having the (almost) worst-case scenario come to fruition.
Fic inspired by this gifset & title from this poem (v short but v poignant)
Fills the 'Overdose' square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card.
The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.
His heart sinks, of course, and his stomach feels like it bottoms out. His chest tightens and he struggles to breathe for a minute and a half, his hands clamming up as his tongue freezes and he can’t find the words to respond to Hotch over the phone. But he isn’t surprised. And that, when it really and truly comes down to it, is exactly where his sins lie.
He races as quickly as he can to the hospital, not obeying the traffic laws by any stretch of the imagination as his hands grip so tightly at the steering wheel that his knuckles turn white and the pattern of the leather; the seams where it's sewn imprint themselves on his palm. His heart pounds rapidly and it’s all he can hear, blood thudding in his ears as the tight knot of anxiety sits heavy in his stomach.
He’s just pulling into the hospital car park when he realises that the last time he felt like this — God, the last time he felt like this was when he first realised Spencer was missing all those months ago. He heaves a dry sob as he abandons his car in a space he hopes is the right one, and slams his palm down hard on the steering wheel once.
He allows himself one more guilt-ridden, heartbroken sob before he forces himself to calm down, doing his best to ignore the tumultuous emotions raging inside him as he shuts the car door behind him and hurries towards the entrance.
It’s hard not to cry when he first locks eyes on Hotch. Seeing his calm, stoic supervisor in a state of utter disarray — red-rimmed eyes, messed up hair, ruffled clothes — somehow makes this all seem a bit too real. Maybe in the car ride over he’d still clung to a small, pathetic bit of hope that this is all a nightmare, that he’ll wake up in a minute and he’ll drive to work and Spencer will already be at his desk, beavering away.
In the harsh lights and bustling noise of the hospital corridor, he knows that’s not going to happen.
They don’t say anything as they stare at one another, both clearly struggling to bite back the raw emotion threatening to spill from their eyes, to unleash itself in a full blown meltdown. Eventually, Hotch sits back down and buries his face in his hands, and Derek joins him on the little two-seater bench.
He doesn’t claim to know much about hospitals or medical care in general, but he knows for damn sure that waiting on a bench outside the ICU is not good, and he’s doing everything in his power to not think about that too hard.
They’ve been sat in stony silence for countless minutes before Derek finally lifts his head, though he still can’t bring himself to look at Hotch again. “Have you called the others?”
Hotch swallows, and Derek can see the tear-tracks trailing down the side of his face out of the corner of his eye. He pretends not to notice them.
“No,” he says, voice unsettlingly shaky. “Only you.”
He decides now is not the time to dwell on that. “Is he— is he going to lose his job?”
The only reason none of them had done anything sooner was because they knew how important this job is to Spencer. And Derek hates with a burning, roaring passion that their hesitation; their cowardly delay, might have cost him his life instead. Just the thought brings another choked sob from his lips, and this time the tears come with it. Before he knows it, his shoulders are shaking violently and all the emotions Derek is struggling to name finally come pouring out, right into Hotch’s lap.
He feels an arm wrap around him and he’s too broken not to lean into it, seeking comfort from the one person in the entire world who can offer it right now. Falling apart in his superior’s arms is not how he saw his Thursday evening going, but he’s too exhausted to care.
By the time he finally pulls away, Hotch is crying too, and they sit a little closer on the bench.
“Spencer won’t lose his job,” he says determinedly, looking Derek in the eyes. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Derek knows that they will have to lie. Papers will be forged and Hotch will be backed into an impossible corner, and he knows that they could lose their jobs if they are ever found out. He doesn’t fucking care. They’ve already failed Spencer in a disgusting, immeasurable, utterly unforgivable way, and he’ll be damned if they ever do that again.
“Good,” he says, and that’s the end of that.
Derek doesn’t understand most of what the doctor tells them, but he doesn’t really care that much for the technicalities anyway. All he cares about is that Spencer had overdosed in the parking garage of his building and was found by a neighbour he doesn’t even know that well. He cares that a damn near stranger was there for Spencer when he wasn’t, and he cares that Hotch was called as his emergency contact, and as such, Derek can finally step up. He can walk into his room and hold his hand and tell him that he’s here now, and he’s not leaving again.
He cares that Spencer is going to be okay.
He’s still asleep when they’re finally allowed to take their seats by his bedside, and Derek tries very hard not to cry at the sight of him, but it isn’t easy. There’s still a bluish tint to his fingernails, and he looks pale and clammy under the oxygen mask. Medicine drips slowly into the line connected to the cannula in the crook of his elbow, and the heart rate echoing out from the monitors is still alarmingly quick.
The evidence of Derek’s failings is staring him right in the face, and it’s hard not to turn away, but he refuses to let himself. He has a lot to make up to Spencer, but he can damn well start by sitting with him here in his darkest hour.
“We all knew.”
Derek looks up from Spencer’s hand to meet Hotch’s eyes. “Yeah.”
“We all knew, and we didn’t do anything about it.” The guilt in Hotch’s voice is momentous enough to rival Derek’s own, and it hurts to hear. Derek failed Spencer as a colleague and a friend-maybe-something-more, but Hotch failed him as a father figure.
He feels tears well up in his eyes again and he does his best to swallow them back down. “Emily did.”
A violent sob tears itself out of Hotch’s lungs, and it’s so loud that Derek almost flinches. “And isn’t that just so much worse? She barely knows him! I met him at lunch with Gideon when he was nineteen, I’ve known him for seven years! Before all of this went down, he almost called me ‘dad’. And I sat back and watched him suffer with both the PTSD of being kidnapped and the fucking heroin addiction he developed because of that bastard, and I did nothing!”
Derek’s at a loss as he watches Hotch break down in front of him, his voice breaking as he shouts, tears streaming down his face as he dissolves into sobs.
“He’s never gonna forgive me. Nor should he. I can’t stand myself right now.”
A little uncertain of the right thing to do, Derek stands up and crosses to the other side of the bed and wraps his arms around Hotch like he did for him only hours earlier. “We all fucked up,” he agrees, “but we’ll get through this. We might never forgive ourselves, but we can always do better. We can do right by Spencer as he recovers, we can help him get clean, help him keep his job, remind him of how loved he is. We can’t abandon that duty just because we failed at doing it before.”
Hotch sits back up and wipes at his eyes furiously, casting his eyes on Spencer. He reaches a hand out and brushes it through his short but untamed curls tenderly, his thumb caressing his eyebrow and forehead gently.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I won’t fail him again.”
Both Derek and Hotch spring into action as soon as Spencer stirs, waking up slowly through the layers of sleep until he’s staring at both of them with a look of terrified uncomprehension in his eyes.
“Hey,” Hotch says softly, hand moving to cup the side of his face. “You’re alright, you’re safe. You’re in the hospital with me and Derek, and everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Spencer slowly looks around the room as the realisation of what’s going on slowly dawns on him, and soon the anxiety is replaced with abject horror and to Derek’s dismay, he immediately starts to cry.
“Hey, hey, pretty boy,” he murmurs as soothingly as he can, following Hotch’s suit and tangling his fingers in Spencer’s hair. “Don’t worry about anything right now, okay? Hotch and I are gonna fix everything right up, and we’re gonna help you. We’re gonna help you like we should’ve helped you before.”
He hates that he loses his composure slightly at the end, but Spencer relaxes slightly so he takes it as a win.
“You can go back to sleep now, Spencer,” Hotch says gently, spotting the signs of exhaustion easily. “We’re gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’ll be here when you wake up.”
When he does finally awaken again, he explains through tears and strangled breaths that he didn’t mean to, that he wasn’t trying to die, he was just so tired and in so much pain that he hadn’t calculated the dosage right.
Hotch and Derek calmly explain that they’re not judging him, and that they’re going to help him through the hospital’s rehab program. Spencer refuses their apologies but they repeat them anyway, trying not to show just how much they hate themselves as they do.
They rope Penelope in, and she helps them make sure Spencer keeps his job, but otherwise their team is entirely oblivious to their chaotic and regret-filled Saturday night spent in George Washington University Hospital.
Most of all, though, Derek does absolutely everything in his power to make sure Spencer is happy, no matter how torn-up and scarred he might feel when he goes home to his own apartment. It isn’t much compared to his property business and his coveted role at the FBI’s behavioural analysis unit, but to Derek it’s his most important and worthy mission in life.
And if that spirals into something more, well. Maybe that’s just one good thing to come out of that small, stuffy, heartbreak-riddled ICU room.
taglist: @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)
#my writing#spencer reid#derek morgan#hurt spencer reid#spencer reid whump#tw drugs#tw substances#tw dilaudid arc#tw drug use#criminal minds#cm#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal midns gen fic#derek morgan & spencer reid#aaron hotchner & spencer reid
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His Dark Materials - Season 2 Episode 5 (rambles)
I only realized last week, there’s only 7 episodes this series because the eighth would have been the Asriel centric one. So only two left now after tonight! :(
Also I finished the book during the last week so I am so READY
Ahh gotta love that London traffic!
I don’t know why but the Golden Monkey wearing a seatbelt SENT ME
Mrs Coulter is watching the mother and baby :(
Boreal saying that our world is barbaric and our world is corrupt is so accurate tbh I’m not even mad
Will literally just threw the knife into the wall omfg watch it!
Red PAN-da is becoming a permanent fixture in this show apparently
Lyra’s hair was so pretty this episode? Her costume too obviously but her hair had me in awe
The theme music to this show gives me literal chills
Boreal is evil but his house is A-fucking-plus
Okay but how does Ruth Wilson always look so gorgeous and fluid in this show?!?
Her faking nearly dropping one of Boreal’s precious collection pieces and him panicking 😅
Mrs Coulter’s little “hmm” and smile... we love a Queen
“Why are we whispering?” “I don’t know” - LMFAO
“Will, you left the window open” - LMAO and also please don’t do that, that’s like one of the BIG rules about the knife!
“He’s getting good at this” “he is” - we love a supportive feral wild girl and her dæmon
Mrs Coulter looking bored as fuck as Boreal plays his music is such a damn mood
“You’d like it here too” - Umm NO STOP PLEASE SHE DOESNT WANT IT
“Carlo, can you make that stop?” - OMG 🤣
“You’re far too conspicuous like that” - but she’s not??? She just looks like a posh well dressed woman, maybe that’s not common in this world but she looks fine??
Boreal picking out clothes he’s obviously got just for her is... eww. Just ewww.
Her reaction to the jeans/clothes though XD
“Would you mind?” - YEAH BOREAL STOP CREEPING AND FUCK OFF PLEASE
“Maybe it’s time we issue a firm denial of the tear in the sky” BRO IT’S LITERALLY HUGE AND RIGHT THERE YOU CAN’T PRETEND IT AIN’T
Oh shit the Magisterium know about that witches going to the new world + the massacre
MacPhail literally imprisoned Father Graves and for WHAT?! I think the power’s getting to him (which I know it the point but still!)
MRS COULTER SHUT THE DOOR ON HER DÆMON I’M-
Okay so I know it’s been implied/said that Mrs Coulter can go far away from the monkey already, and that they maybe have been through some kind of process that’s made that a thing, but like DAMN.
“I’m sure you’ve encountered witches in your travels” - if I hadn’t already read the books, I would be asking if she IS a witch tbh like omg
This is probably one of the few times I’ll say this but... I feel so sorry for the monkey?? Just him watching her as she leaves from the window... like that’s so sad. I get why she couldn’t exactly walk around with a monkey but urgh
“I apologize if she was a nuisance” “She wasn’t a nuisance!” - Oof you tell her, Mary
“You must be so proud.” “... I am.” - OOF
Mary showing that she’s better fit to be a parent to Lyra than Lyra’s real mother tbh
Damn Marisa disappeared FAST
Mary really googled Mrs Coulter I’m-
“You must play the serpent” “hornbeam” “save the girl and the boy” - IT’S HAPPENING IM GOING TO CRY IM SO EXCITED
The computer turning completely off and the room going dark before going red OH MY GOD
“Oh shut it, Pan” - LMAO
OH NO OH NO ANGELICA FOUND TULLIO AND SHE IS PISSED D:
A+ acting from Bella Ramsay by the way
“We WILL get you” - OH SHIT
The fact that Will feels guilty over fighting and inadvertently getting Tullio attacked by spectres because he has the knife :’(
It’s so sweet to see Lyra and Pan comforting him though
“I’m not judging” - Mary’s sister says while totally judging her for reading the Holy Bible. She probably thinks she’s about to rejoin the convent!
I find the relationship between Marisa and the monkey so interesting?? I’m so intrigued by it
“Do they drink in this world?” “That, they do well.” - LMFAO ACCURATE THOUGH
“I found her arrogant, like many women in this world.” - umm, FUCK you, Boreal you misogynistic sexist piece of shit
So Mrs Coulter was denied a doctorate despite being the best in her class because she’s a woman, and they would only have published her papers if they were by a man. I’m starting to see why she got upset when she met Mary, who’s got her own office and a doctorate and is head of the department/project
“Who I could have been in this world” - oh shIT
The way she started talking about how she felt after the whole affair/baby ordeal, followed by “we’re not talking about Asriel, we’re talking about ME” - FUCK. I love Ruth Wilson’s portrayal, I love it
“You’ve spent your time trading trinkets” - lmfao you tell him ma’am
“Were you hoping to add me to your little collection?” “I was hoping this would be a life for you here” - oh god I hate it, fuck right off Carlo
“If you got me, you wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with me” - oh SHIT :O
Lyra turning up to distract them so Will could have the chance to cut a window and steal the Alethiometer had me on the edge of my seat
Let’s be real right now, the whole last 15 minutes? THE MOST TENSE AND INCREDIBLE PIECE OF TELEVISION ASDFGHJKL
Mrs Coulter’s face when she saw Lyra at the door :’(
Also she nearly saw Will and I was sitting there praying she wouldn’t find him, I was so worried even though I’ve literally just reread the book
So um THE FUCKING MONKEY BASTARD JUMPSCARED ME AND I AUDIBLY YELLED SO LOUDLY HOLY HECK
The way that Lyra saw her mum and immediately tried to run away though, she just keeps trying to yeet herself away from her parents and I honestly don’t blame her at all
Boreal was being truly extra in the way he dropped his snake dæmon out of his sleeve like that whilst advancing on Will
“Why would I trust you?” TRUTH
Coulter saying for Lyra to stay away from Will and getting super teary eyed makes me think she’s worried Lyra will suffer like she did? Like she’s worried that Lyra will suffer at the hands of men and be in the same situation she was I think? And that’s so sad but nuanced
“I am NOTHING like you.”
So Lyra did this little head move like Marisa did in 1x02, when she made the monkey attack Pan to subdue Lyra - AND THEN PAN ATTACKED THE MONKEY JUST LIKE THAT, LITERALLY EXACTLY THE SAME, AND MRS COULTER FALLING TO THE FLOOR AND CLUTCHING THE SOFA LIKE LYRA DID?? AND LYRA WATCHING WITH THIS COLD LOOK ON HER FACE?!
SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE A COMPARISON GIFSET BECAUSE IM CRYING
I love Will getting mad at Boreal taunting him over his mum, and immediately starting to punch him
HE SMASHED THAT COLLECTION PIECE ON BOREAL’S HEAD FUCK YEAH WILL 👏🏻
That was a DAMN close escape, holy fuck, but she’s got the Alethiometer back!
“The man who hurt you, I wanted to kill him” - same Lyra
I was so emotional when she was talking about how Marisa used her dæmon to hurt her and Pan, and Will saying that he’s never worried about his mum hurting him... the comparison is so sad
“I hope I’m not like either of my parents” - I mean I don’t blame her tbh
SHE CONSIDERED MA COSTA AND LEE SCORESBY TO BE BETTER PARENT FIGURES TO BE LIKE I’M CRYING
So Mrs Coulter is definitely planning some shit, like she didn’t seem that concerned when Boreal was talking about the Spectres, and like obviously I know what happens but I’ve always been intrigued as to why the Spectres listen to her instead of just attacking her. Also is it something to do with her dæmon? Like if they ARE separated in some way, maybe the Spectres don’t feed on her because it’s Dust or something? (Idk if that makes any sense)
“Deceive the guardian... okay... okay...” honestly same XD
Mary pretending to be Mrs Coulter to get past the guard is such a brilliant idea, like she just ran with it immediately, we have to stan a Queen who keeps a calm head
SHE WENT THROUGH THE WINDOW AND INTO THE CITY AAAAHHHH
The angels said they’d protect her, right? So she doesn’t need to fear the Spectres I’m assuming (I need to assume or I’ll worry)
The promo for next week was literally half what we saw THIS week and half Lee/John Parry footage I’m assuming is next week... ?
The fact there’s only two episodes left makes me so sad :( I have no idea what I’ll do waiting for the final series - and I’m assuming it’ll be delayed maybe because of Covid. Plus I’m hoping we get the extra episode NEXT series, the one that was Asriel-centred and supposed to be in this one but wasn’t filmed because of Coronavirus, so fingers crossed! 🤞
#his dark materials#hdm#lyra belacqua#marisa coulter#will parry#pantalaimon#lord boreal#charles latrom#the golden monkey#golden monkey#philip pullman#the subtle knife#dafne keen#ruth wilson#amir wilson
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About Daniel & Miyagi & Grief’n’Stuff
I commented underneath this awesome gifset that paralleled KK3 and Cobra Kai about some interesting depth of feeling that so far has only been hinted at in the latter in relation to Daniel.
Lots of people are watching the tv show first and either going back to watch the films (like I’ve done) or deciding to get the story purely from CK, so there’s a small tangent where I mention that I think it’s some pretty cool writing that means depending on what you’ve watched when you understand the story differently, which is just neat meta storytelling (there’s Daniel’s side, there’s Johnny’s side, and there’s the truth).
Spoilers for the Karate Kid movies (but they’re 30 years old, go watch’em)
I mainly focused that little comment on Cobra Kai and Daniel’s trauma, which never really seemed to be about Johnny himself, but rather his presence bringing back unpleasant Cobra Kai memories, but there’s something else I found having watched the three movies after watching the show and it’s sort of related to that and sort of related to Miyagi and sort of related to Daniel’s need to honour his memory perfectly - mainly it’s that Daniel probably needs help processing some grief and guilt + some Moments from those movies that I hope to see in coming seasons.
when I was watching the show (even with a knowledge of the trajectory of the films) I had a sense of Daniel as an avid student of Miyagi’s whose life was deeply affected by his presence in it. Clearly emotionally attached to him and his teachings, but still very much in a mentor/student space, with an allegory of fatherhood attached to it - this did start shifting in season 3 after Daniel returned to Okinawa, but there were still some pieces missing that I needed to actually see their interactions to get.
After watching the movies, I now understand that Daniel was actually very textually Miyagi’s adopted son in everything but name (and that he probably feels like he’s failed him and can never make things right, because he’s dead now and that’s yet another interesting parallel with Johnny in terms of his mother) and that makes every decision he makes in relation to Miyagi slot into place in a much more heart-breaking way.
- the intensity of his devotion to his teaching style (even though it’s not actually a natural fit to his own temperament and in some ways might be a detriment - there’s a not-quite-tangent here about how combining elements of that style with elements of Johnny’s is what both of them need), his bitterness about Cobra Kai (in tandem with the events of the third movie), his not-at-all Miyagi-like response to the attack on the dojo and theft of Miyagi’s medal of honour, his emotions upon returning to Okinawa, even the more “slanted towards a bit of humorous white people don’t get appropriation” stuff like the scene with the fish and Kyler etcetc. (Although idk how Miyagi would feel about the karate-ads)
Miyagi was his father. Not just a father-adjacent, or a metaphor for fatherhood, no, he just straight up considered Daniel to be his son. And that sentiment was returned. No wonder Daniel’s emotionally compromised when it comes to anything that might tarnish his memories of him.
There are a few scenes in particular that I’m interested in whether they’ll show -
1. First movie Miyagi gets drunk and speaks to Daniel about his past - while he was fighting in WWII winning his medal of honour, his wife died while pregnant in an internment camp, because she didn’t have access to a doctor (which... there is so much within that little piece of backstory). Daniel tucks a now sleeping Miyagi in and studies the medal, realising that his presence means as much to Miyagi as Miyagi’s does to him. He bows in respect before leaving for the night.
2. Second movie (while they’re building a room for Daniel to stay in at Miyagi’s instead of going with his mum to Fresno, which is unbearably cute. We see him living in it in the third movie) Daniel makes a frame for the medal of honour as a gift - Miyagi isn’t exactly dismissive, but there’s that overtone of how it connects to one of the most painful moments of his life. Still, he’s happy that Daniel took the time to do this for him, even while using it as another teachable Moment about bravery. - in the third movie the frame (same frame as in the tv series) is hanging on Miyagi’s wall.
3. Later on, while they’re in Okinawa, Miyagi’s father dies and he goes to sit at a spot that looks over the sea to mourn him. Daniel finds him there and sits down with him, telling him about his own father’s death, about how he felt guilty as a son that he couldn’t do more for him, but the most important thing was that he was there, held his hand, and said goodbye (cries for the 100th time).
4. Third movie. Before realising that Silver has deliberately manipulated him Daniel’s basically suffering a mental breakdown, comparing himself to a very special Bonsai tree that had earlier been destroyed, describing himself as “broken and twisted” - Miyagi takes him into the garden to show him that he fixed the tree and tells Daniel that he has strong roots and I... cry...
5. In general during the third movie we see Daniel pushing Miyagi away several times (one time after which Miyagi is standing alone with tears in his eyes, fuck ooooffff), because he thinks he’s let him down, while Miyagi is just worried. For his son. And yeah, we have them training again and replanting the fixed Bonsai tree and there’s a sort-of catharsis in that, but it never feels like the core of Daniel’s anxieties in that film are dealt with in the text.
We know the Bonsai Tree Shop (which Daniel gave his college fund for and was meant to be Miyagi’s retirement) failed. We know that he was terrified of Silver until the end. We know he was beaten half to hell, even if he did win his match in the end. We don’t know what happened to Silver or Barnes. We know that Kreese is back and that Silver at least is likely about to come back.
Daniel towards the end of that movie feels like he failed Miyagi and the show hasn’t really stated whether or not that feeling ever went away - from the clues so far, I’d say not.
Quite apart from the fact that the acting in these is fucking stellar (the first of them earned Pat Morita his oscar nod and the third is just... wow. Probably my favourite out of all of the scenes in the franchise), they speak so much to the depth of their relationship and respect for one another and to the theme of parenthood and chosen family that the series later expands upon.
In a story of terrible fathers, Miyagi was a great one, and with Cobra Kai back - and likely to get worse from here on out - the lack of Miyagi’s presence weighs pretty damn heavily on Daniel, especially if he never dealt with any of these things - of course, now he has Amanda and Johnny, if only he’d ask (Manifests For Season Four).
The series has so far skewed more towards Johnny, which makes a lot of sense, since there were more unknowns about him to play with going in and it’s at first about building him into the more fully-realised character that Billy Zabka had in his head (+ he’s delightful), but with Terry Silver almost definitely coming into the picture, and Daniel and Johnny finally in the position to really start maybe sharing more of their inner selves with each other, I just really really hope that we get to see these moments as framings for Daniel’s story, not just for Johnny’s perspective of him to start opening up, but so the audience can see and/or remember where Daniel’s coming from.
This show is very good at deciding when we get to see whose perspective and the creators are interested in exploring more of that aftermath + have used the medal of honour within the plot already + love Silver as a villain, so all of this is my vague... not really prediction, more of an excitement.
Daniel’s journey is partially one of realising that Miyagi was always proud of him and that the lessons he taught him mean he’ll always be there to protect him, and I’m just excited for Daniel to understand that.
He’s not as alone as he thinks he is.
#daniel larusso#nariyoshi miyagi#cobra kai#the karate kid#kinda predictiony kinda stuff#kinda an emotion i didn't expect to have AS intensely after the movies as i did#kinda feeling intensely about miyagi#kinda lowkey wanting to write a series of parallels between daniel and johnny#my meta#cobra kai meta
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