#Hundred Soul : The Last Savior | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haileyywrites · 1 year

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-> After a grueling battle with demons Xiao's karmic debt almost finally claims him once again. This time he isn't saved by the god of geo, but by an unknown divine entity or person...

-> Xiao x Gn reader!

-> They/them or simply "you" used - no gender specified for reader! Warning for Xiao's karmic debt! Pretty angsty! Reader is basically a divine creature or a god - you'll see! Might not be lore accurate - this is simply for fun and for your reading pleasure <3

The all too familiar scent of blood fills his lungs, the iron like smell was too strong to ignore and he was too weak to do anything but fall onto his knees. Xiao's grip was still tight around his polearm, but he was too weak to use it as a crutch to move. The once simple task of getting up seemed like an impossibility... The only sound filling his ears was his own heavy breathing and panting - despite how much air filled his lungs over and over, he couldn't breathe or catch his breath.

He could feel it - his karmic debt calling, slowly coming to claim him as he was too weak out to resist it. This is where he would finally succumb to it after hundreds of years of fighting and service to the Geo Archon, protecting the people of Liyue - trying his best to do some good... his time had come. All colour faded from around him as the souls of the damned greedily grabbed a hold of him with their cursed hands and without much resistance from him. He was just too tired of fighting...

Their cursed hands held him in place as their claw like nails digged into his pale skin, despite how sharp and deep they sank. Blood tickled down from some of the wounds they created as sweat rolled down his forehead dampening his hair and making it stick to it. He could barely feel the pain from it anymore, the only thing he felt was numbness... He wouldn't be able to fight against them even if he wanted to, and he wasn't sure if he did. The damned lifted him from the ground to hold him up, the painful ache from their grip was finally surfacing.

He closed his eyes in preparation. Soon he would be greeted by the familiar sight of his friends - his family. Bosacius, Indarias, Bonanus and Menogias... He would finally see them again, if he was fortunate enough to earn that. It was high time, the Yaksha's and the Adepti were all but extinct, yet he still remained as one of the last on both sides as if stuck in the past while the world forgot and moved on... Perhaps he had done enough good to redeem his cursed soul and be allowed rest.

Suddenly a blinding white light spread everywhere around him, his eyes shut tightly as the damned shrieked in pain or horror and quickly dissapeared. Without them holding him he simply fell forwards and down. He was caught by someone before he could make contact with the ground - the one who got rid of the damned souls and their hold on him, you. He couldn't open his eyes due to the brightness and even if he could he couldn't see anything due to it.

It seemed he was once again saved from his inevitable fate from the hands of his karma and the damned souls that cravedhis corrupted soul. They wouldn't go away no matter how many times he evaded them, but right now he could feel their effects leaving his body with your presence... Your presence felt so familiar and yet so entirely foreign to him, a strange feeling - but somehow he felt safe with you around and holding him.

Slowly the light died down around him and he was able to open his sharp golden eyes to peer around his surroundings. It was the same field that had been filled with corpses of demons he had purged before being overwhelmed by his karma, it had been painted red with their blood and his - but now it was a field of lush green grass and blooming flowers. He had to look for some time to comprehend it was truly the same place, as nothing was growing there then. Even the grass had been dry and brown when he had arrived...

He turned his head to face his savior - half expecting them to be Rex Lapis, but no. You wore all white clothing with a veil covering your hair and a mask completely covering your features. The mask was painted white with fine and subtle, yet intricate details littering it. The whole outfit you wore prevented him from figuring out your identity. Every detail outside of your skin colour hidden, which didn't tell him much anyway. The large full moon rose like a halo behind you, making you look more ethereal to him than you already were with your almost entirely white outfit.

He continued to stare at you in confusion, but was unable to form any words to question or thank you for your deed - but did he even truly feel grateful? He had cheated death more than once now, there was sure to be consequences of some sort for it. He couldn't keep evading and escaping it over and over until the end of time... But just who were you to be able to save him in the first place and scare off the damned without them fighting back? Why would you do it even if you were able to? You didn't know him... so why?

Question after question entered his head and the more he thought about it the more confused he became. He was already weak and worn, it would be best for him to rest. He really doubted you would harm him if he let his body rest like this for some time, after all that trouble it was likely not worth it for them to hurt him... Still, it had been a long while since he was able to trust someone like this. Even if it was logical, it was still a big deal for him to trust another while he rested.

Your arms were comfortable to lay in. He felt safe and protected while in your embrace in a way he hadn't before... It was terrifyingly easy for him to let down his guard when in your presence. You hadn't said a word during the entire time and he didn't have the slightest idea of what you looked like, yet the faint feeling of familiarity grew the more he stared at your mask covered face. He couldn't place it, but he would figure it out once he had rested.

When he finally closed his eyes again he dreamt of his friends... They were more like memories, but he was aware of that fact and they weren't, but he wasn't complaining. He would mind living in these memories when he needed to rest, it was much better than the dreams he would otherwise get. The other reason he often didn't sleep was because his karma would give him terrible dreams and left him vulnerable to it with no supervision. But this dream was surely done by you, or caused by your presence - it had to be. Everything about you was a mystery that became more confusing and complicated the more he learned...

When he awoke it was the next day and the sun had began rising from the horizon. The mysterious figure in white was gone from his side with no signs of their whereabouts... He would have thought it all a dream had his wounds and marks from the damned littered his body like they had appeared, he was also laying on the soft fresh grass that had appeared when you did. The question was, where had you gone and who were you? A question not easily answered...

What he had witnessed yesterday day couldn't have been done by a mortal - not even someone with a vision, so his only option was to ask Rex Lapis for help. He if anyone would know something about you, he was the longest living being he knew and was incredibly knowledgeable in a verity of fields and he was apart of the Seven Gods, it was likely he would know of the other kinds of gods that existed. Normally he wouldn't bother the Geo Archon with such things, but this felt important enough, perhaps too important to not ask for his help.

“A mysterious person dressed in all white clothing with a feature covering mask...” The former Archon repeated to himself deep in thought.

His eyes moved from side to side as he tried to remember if he had ever heard of encountered someone like that... A thought crossed his mind and his eyes widened in what appeared to be shock or realization, his face quickly became more serious before he turned towards the Yaksha.

“Hmm. It appears you might have truly been saved by a god of some kind. Though I thought none still existed outside of the Seven...” He kept thinking with his hands crossed.

It was quite a lot to take in and required some thought for them both of them. If one god or divine being like one still existed outside of the remaining Seven, surely there could or even would be others. That raised a lot of possibilities and questions that they currently had no answers for. Strange that this was the first time Zhongli had ever heard of such encounter and it was told by Xiao of all people, interesting...

Zhongli was no longer an Archon but he would very much like to meet you, the only question was how that would be arranged. Neither of them had any way to contact or identify you, so it would be left up to fate or you yourself showing up. Until then everything would continue as normal, Xiao had already healed and was able to continue his duties of warding off demons. He was more mindful of his limits and the effects of his karma, but a part of him was curious if you would show up like you did if he got overwhelmed again...

It was a stupid thought, but you hadn't left his thoughts since the fay you had met. Every time he wasn't fighting he was thinking about you and that feeling your presence caused, it was addicting in a way... The complete safety you had made him feel was something he didn't realize he had craved for and he still didn't know how react to it. Perhaps he was glad you had saved him that night after all - a pity he wasn't able to tell you that then or even now.

Xiao's gaze rose to the moon above him, it shone more brightly than previous nights and reminded him of you. The way the moon had risen behind you had been imprinted in his brain and made him associate you with the moon. Suddenly the familiar sight of pure white clothing caught his eye. He almost got whiplash from how fast he turned his head to follow the sight, and indeed it was you. You stood some distance away from him as you stared at him in silence. His mouth became agape from the shocking sight of you and he didn't know what to do but stare back. He heard your faint chuckle from beneath the mask you wore...

He watched like a hawk as your hand moved slowly upwards to hold the bottom of your beautifully decorated mask. It felt agonizingly slow as you began moving it away from your face, uncovering your features from beneath it. The Yaksha's breath hitched as your face was slowly revealed inch by inch right before his eyes and he could do nothing but stare intensly at you the more you revealed until finally there was nothing left to uncover.

“I didn't get to introduce myself last time. Hello, Conqueror of Demons.” You smiled.

A/N: Happy 2023 everyone! Let's start this new year by showing our love to our favorite anemo yaksha <3

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 29 days

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Our goddess and savior: Natasha Romanoff

Katya is good at ending up in bad situations. Natasha is good at getting her out of them.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.7k • Warnings: descriptions of gore and an execution This is part of my series where I post small scenes I've written over the years that have never seen the light of day because they didn't fit into the story the way I wanted them to Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: this one is for you @milfs69420

2010

Katya's wrists ached where the rope cut into them, a wooden pole digging into the valley between her shoulder blades. She tried to feel for the small knife hidden in the sleeve of her mission suit, but they'd successfully managed to strip her of all her weapons. There was nowhere to go, and her muscles were aching as she used the pole to keep herself up.

Fuck this mission. And fuck herself for messing it up once more.

Maybe Natasha was right and she really was the worst best spy ever. Somehow, she always walked out with the correct information or the right person's heart pierced by her knife. But it was always after almost dying or getting hurt.

Right now, Katya found herself on the other side of a firing squad. About ten men patiently awaited orders to empty the magazines of their automatic weapons into her body. Behind them, a hundred more from their shitty organization gathered to watch the whole thing happen, like pathetic little sheep.

They were using her for propaganda and a demonstration of power. How nice.

''Look,'' Katya sighed exasperatedly, using her last bit of energy to cover up her dread. If she was going out, she was going out with sass. ''I know I'm pretty, my girlfriend says so, but is the display really necessary?''

God, she could really use Natasha right about now, mere moments away from a possibly very shitty death. Imagine getting delivered back to SHIELD with hundreds of bullet holes in her body.

A wave of guilt nearly brought her to her knees. That would leave her gorgeous girlfriend traumatized for sure.

''Yes.'' A short man in front of her answered. He barked orders at the firing squad earlier. Now he was slowly pacing back and forth, waiting for something. Katya wasn't sure what. His French accent annoyed her. ''You're an example.''

''Of beauty?'' She feigned an exaggerated smile. ''Thanks.''

''No. Of idiocy.'' He scoffed, stepping up to her. His creepy little eyes traveled up and down her body in disdain, as if he was bitter he didn't get to shoot her himself. ''Thought you were one of the best. The Ghost.''

Katya wasn't backing off—not that she could. She squinted at him when she spat out her code name. ''Yeah, well, I have a reputation of messing up.''

''Clearly.'' He smirked when he heard someone coming up to him, stretching out his arm to receive something. ''So, this is you paying the price for it.''

Dread swirled in Katya's gut as she watched him fiddle with the mysterious thing in his hand. He'd turned around and walked back to his men, so it wasn't clear what it was, but she had a bad, bad feeling about it. Worse than her upcoming death. ''What's that?''

Smugly, the man turned around, lifting and pointing the object at her. It was a video camera. ''I am going to film this, if that's alright with you? Give your friends something to remember you by.''

All the blood drained from Katya's face at once. Gone was her attitude.

She could handle dying. And she was pretty sure Fury would shield Natasha from ever seeing her destroyed body. But if this shitty little man got her death on video, he would dangle the footage over Natasha's head and use it to absolutely destroy her soul.

Katya could handle dying, but she would not drag her girlfriend along with her.

''No. Don't,'' she said firmly, her whole body on edge. She wanted to snatch that recorder from his hand and throw it so hard against a wall that it shattered in a million pieces. But she was helpless, tied to this godforsaken wooden pole like a witch in the seventeenth century.

The man's smirk widened. ''Oh, someone's getting queasy.''

Katya's fingers curled into fists to keep her fearless composure. ''You can kill me all you want, but don't put it on tape. That's really not necessary.''

''Too bad.'' Slowly, he backed up, until he stood between the row of shooters. He was enjoying it, this asshole. He knew he had her on the edge of desperation. ''Any last words?'' When the red light on his recorder started to flicker, Katya knew it was too late.

''None meant for you.''

Defeated, accepting of her upcoming fate, she closed her teary eyes, leaning her head back against the pole.

Death was fine by her. That wasn't the part she feared. But all Katya could think about was the people she'd leave behind. People who would actually care if she was gone now.

Well, just one person, actually. Natasha. How heartbroken she'd be. She would never let another person get close again, give up on love forever. Maybe she'd run from the pain, give up on everything good she was achieving with SHIELD. All that growth, everything that made her into a human being again, gone.

In this moment, though, there was nothing else to do but accept the situation. Dozens of soldiers, tightly tied to a pole, defenseless; Katya was stuck and utterly hopeless.

''Guns ready!''

Nat, I love you. It's the only thing she could think of. I love you, I love you, and I'm so sorry I'm leaving you again. Please, forgive me.

''And—''

His voice got cut off by a choking sound.

Katya's eyes flew open, disoriented and confused. Her heart raced in her chest as she followed the noise of the video recorder shattering on the floor to the man from before.

A knife sat deeply lodged in his throat. Blood sprayed out of his artery, his mouth wide open as he fruitlessly clawed at his neck. But there was absolutely no fixing this. His knees instantly gave out, and in a mere five seconds, he was as dead as they could be.

Frantically, Katya looked around for the thrower, her savior. Although from the precision with which that knife was thrown, it could only be one person. The only one almost as good as her.

The realization made her laugh, and she dropped her head back against the pole once more. This time with a wide smile on her lips.

''Always the dramatic entrance, darling!''

Like she was in the walls, Natasha's chuckle echoed all around. The dozens of aimless men in front of Katya were spinning hopelessly in their spot, raising their guns, trying to find her, but Natasha was nowhere to be found. The shadows loved her as much as the setting sun loved her orange hair.

A horrifying humming filled the space, a slow tune which made neckhairs rise and skin crawl. Something straight out of a horror movie. ''You look so pretty tied up, baby.''

Despite the situation, Katya felt her smile morph into a sly smirk. She shifted restlessly, eager to get out of these ties now that rescue was near. ''Then why don't you come down here and help yourself?''

''I am here, baby.''

She jumped six figurative feet in the air, her wrists painfully sliding across the rough wood from the pole. Natasha's voice sounded from right behind her, where she had never expected it. ''Jesus!''

''Close your eyes,'' Natasha muttered, her mouth close to Katya's ear.

''Why—'' A loud shriek left her lips. The sound of a million gunshots bounced off the walls of the warehouse, amplified by the bare concrete and metal support beams holding the place up. It was deafening. If it weren't for the hands covering her ears, Katya feared she may have had a ringing in her ears for a week.

Her eyes closed all on their own as—what must be—SHIELD STRIKE teams laid down fire upon everyone in the room. Natasha must have brought them with her when she realized what the situation was like. Katya recognized an execution when she heard one. She couldn't say she hated this one. Something about karma.

The noise abruptly died out. Safe for some rattling of empty bullet shells, the warehouse was completely silent after Natasha took her hands away. The dozen, quick-moving, heavy footsteps that moved in on the very dead crowd were mere whispers compared to the thunderstorm from before.

Natasha sighed, stepping in front of Katya with a disappointed yet amused shake of her head. It was probably the near-death experience, but Katya had never seen anything more beautiful than this. Was this what religious people saw when Jesus came to them in a dream? ''You really did it this time. A firing squad.''

Katya grinned, trying not to focus on all the dead bodies behind her girlfriend. The relief she felt was indescribable. Natasha saved her life once again. ''Impeccable timing, honey.''

''I let you sweat a bit. Was here, like, fifteen minutes ago.'' Natasha shrugged, pulling another knife from her thigh to cut the rope with.

She pretended not to see the murderous glare Katya sent her as she disappeared behind her again, because that was such a dick move, to try and teach her a lesson by almost letting her get murdered. It wouldn't even work, because Katya just kept ending up in these situations, even if she tried to be more careful. Especially then.

''Hey, what were you thinking about right before I treated that guy to my knife?'' Natasha knowingly asked as she cut away at the rope around Katya's wrists. ''You had that frown on your face.''

They both knew she did that dramatic mental goodbye, but Katya refused to give in to the teasing. Relieved, she brought her hands to her chest when they were freed, rubbing her raw wrists. ''Thinking about the chicken I had for dinner. It was very good.''

''Mhm,'' the redhead hummed skeptically. She returned to Katya's front to cut away the rope around her ankles, tossing her hair over her shoulder before she crouched down.

''And about how sexy you look in your mission suit.'' Katya's eyes lit up, risking everything by staring at Natasha's cleavage while the woman had a very sharp knife very close to her Achilles heel. This top view just did wonders for her chest. ''By the way, that knife and the psycho tint after? Incredibly hot.''

Natasha smirked, her gaze flickering up to Katya's. ''I thought you'd like it.''

Like? Katya had nearly crumbled on the spot. ''Baby, I think once you cut me loose, my knees might give in on me.'' She chuckled humorlessly.

Somehow, Natasha looked excited by that fact. ''I'll have to carry you then.''

#katandnat #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #wlw #lesbian

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mistresslrigtar · 5 months

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DTIYS for @bahbahhh's 1200 follower prompt

As always, there's a song that inspires my writing. Today I share an oldie, but what a goodie.

Where Do I Begin - love theme from "Love Story"

Where should I begin?

The story of our love is older than the Calamity. My memories of when we first met are foggy at best, but it wasn't pleasant from what she related to me. She told me once my silence drove her crazy, and apparently, my excuse was that wielding the Master Sword was the root cause of my quietude. I was a liar. That may have been the reason before she entered my life, but if she had any effect on me then as she does now, the truth is, she left me tongue-tied. I must have known then what I know now, that she was the only one for me.

Sometimes, I imagine those star-crossed lovers felt as I do now when they realized their time was running out.

Does it seem strange to you for me to think of them as entirely different people? It shouldn’t. Neither one of us was the same after one hundred years. I had no memories save the ones she spoon-fed me, and she was no longer the naive girl who had held Calamity Ganon at bay, waiting for me to awaken.

Ah, that’s difficult to think about.

The guilt that consumes me knowing I wasn’t strong enough to save her then or now, is insurmountable. She’d had to fight alone. All those naysayers, including her father, who belittled her, were proven wrong. Without her, Hyrule would have fallen one hundred-ten years ago. Without her, Hyrule would have collapsed when Ganondorf returned from the dead.

Without her, I’m nothing.

People call me the savior of Hyrule when, in all honesty, I had very little to do with it. Hyrule’s salvation floats, unseen above our heads, endlessly circling, searching for what she’s misplaced.

Something of her spirit must remain. I refuse to believe Mineru’s last words, that my Zelda’s mind and soul are forfeit to the cosmos. If that were so, she’d never have swooped in and saved me from the jaws of the Demon Dragon.

Why’d we go beneath the castle?

If I could take it all back, would I, knowing what waited in the depths? Perhaps we could have lived to the end of our days in blissful ignorance. Had the children we’d only just begun to talk and dream about. We deserved that, didn’t we? We’d already sacrificed twice for Hyrule.

This isn’t how it was supposed to end.

I try not to curse Hylia, but my heart has hardened, and faith seems unobtainable. Zelda wouldn’t like knowing I feel this way. She’d had faith I’d save Hyrule and had sacrificed her mortal soul to ensure my success.

I had faith—in her. Now, I’m lost in a void of moments when we lived and loved for a brief while. How can I move on? When all the best of me was lost when she sacrificed her beautiful soul in the hope that I’d triumph.

The cost was too steep, Zelda.

It’s been over five years since she fell into the chasm, disappearing in the blink of an eye. I never saw her again, the love of my life and my only reason for being. I can’t escape her memory. Her ghost remains everywhere I go, to haunt me by day and my dreams by night.

I can’t stand to linger in Hateno longer than necessary and never set foot in the house. It takes all my willpower to descend the ladder to her well to collect the few brightblooms that sprout there.

The home I began building in Akkala (back when I still had some hope that she’d return to me) is a complete lost cause. I haven’t visited there since the end. Seeing the empty study and gallery I built for her is too much to bear. The last letter from Hudson asked what I intended to do with the home. I told him to repurpose it into a school for Tarrytown.

She’d like that.

Shielding my eyes, I look to the sky in search of her. There she is–the Light Dragon. She drifts above me, her legs endlessly swimming in the air, and the crystal green eyes I love so much gaze back at me.

She’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and I’ll always love her whether she’s a human or a wyrm. There’s an old song that asks the question, how long can love last and be measured? Surely not by the hours in a day or a lifetime even. My devotion to her transcends time, space, and physical form. I’ll chase her, search for her, and cherish my Zelda until the stars burn away.

It’s my turn to rescue her, even if that means I die trying. I’ve scoured all of Hyrule and the Sky Islands, searching for a way to reverse her terrible fate. There’s only one more place that remains. If the answer to the riddle of how to save her is anywhere, it’ll be in the depths.

I’ll spend the remainder of my days searching for a way to save her. Because in the end, it’s always only been for her.

“Link!” Tulin’s voice, carried by the wind, breaks my reverie.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see he’s heading toward me. He nearly knocks us down with a bear hug when we collide. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and as he backs away, I realize he’s as tall as me.

He sees that I’ve noticed and smiles, turning his head. “Check this out! My braid is long. Kind of like yours. Looks cool, right?”

Yeah, it does, Tulin. He reminds me so much of Revali without any of the pomposity.

He’s the one I’ll miss the most and who will understand the least why I have to go. He’ll want to follow me if I tell him, and I can’t have that. He belongs here, in the sky, touched by the sun and moon. I can see his future, and it’s bright.

Before I go, I must spend these last few days with him, building brotherly camaraderie and making memories. Hopefully, he’ll fondly reflect on our time together and forgive me for leaving.

Pulling out my paraglider, I put on a happy face for him.

Race you!

#bahbahh1200 #dtiyschallenge #dtiys entry #legend of zelda #zelink #the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild

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sitp-recs · 11 months

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Hey liv! Do you know any fics that have Draco (or Harry) as a bartender or that are set mostly in a bar? Thanks in advance! :)

Hi anon! Sure thing, here are some recs:

Thanks for all the Fish by dracogotgame (T, 2k)

Harry's latest break up with Ginny gives him food for thought.

The Mispronunciations of Draco Malfoy by daisymondays (T, 4.6k)

'Muggle AU where Harry is a barista and bartender and keeps running into his most stuck-up customer’ aka ‘All the times Harry managed to mispronounce Draco and the one time he got it right.’

Pub Night by sdk (E, 7k)

In a cramped loo at The Bitter End, what Harry and Draco do is only about one thing: getting off. ...Isn't it?

An Aching Soul by writcraft (M, 14k)

Draco Malfoy escapes to the Muggle world to avoid his parents, memories of the war and Harry Potter. However, some things prove harder to escape than others as Draco realises when his favourite Muggle haunt is rudely invaded by a post-war Harry who is struggling to cope with grief, growing up and the battle with his inner demons.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by punk_rock_yuppie (E, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco.

Take These Lies by pennygalleon (E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why. But that’s not why he keeps coming back.

Midnight in the City of a Hundred Spires by shiftylinguini (E, 25k)

Harry Potter is a missing person. Draco Malfoy is a vampire. They are the last two people one would expect to bump into each other in a Creature Bar in Prague, yet to Draco’s absolute shock that is definitely Harry fucking Potter sitting across from him. Even more surprising is that Potter may have a case for him.

Saviour of the Seas by Booktopus (E, 45k)

For the 10th Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic has chosen to celebrate with a cruise to Norway to view the Northern Lights aboard the Savior of the Seas. Did they actually think Harry would want a bloody cruise ship named after him?

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

Chasing Shadows by manixzen (E, 93k)

The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #bartender AU #pub fics

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wilderlingdev · 2 years

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briarheart | interactive fiction game | fantasy, mystery | tag | play it now

The briarheart. There are statues of the famed hero and their companions all over Crowned Grove. When you were younger, you tried to spy behind their mask, to get a glimpse of the face beneath, but there was nothing to be seen - the true visage of the briarheart was never captured by any artist or sculptor. But you had to check. You had to see if the face hidden behind the mask was your own. Your mother always said it was. That the mark in your forehead, the same shimmering on the hero’s mask, was all the proof you needed. You grew up under their shadow, their silent eyes judging your every move, with the knowledge that one day you would depart with companions of your own to save the world again a thorn twisting in your ribcage. Saving the world cost the briarheart their life - it was supposed to also claim your own. But you failed. Why?

BRIARHEART is an interactive fiction game where you play as the chosen one who failed, now returning from a self-imposed exile to the Crowned Grove’s royal court. The kingdom - the last one that still stands after hundreds of years of rot and decay - remembers your failure well, and it is not willing to forgive. But that is the least of your worries…

The Crowned Grove's sickness grows stronger. More and more people fall to the wild's ravenous hunger, devoured from the inside out as the it struggles against the rot. The woods are more dangerous than ever, the animals a source of poison, but there is nothing the people can do to protect themselves - because if the wild dies, so does the Crowned Grove.

The signs of the end are there, and your mother the Queen has no time to lose. Despite your failure, you are the briarheart still, and that means the answers lie with you and that fated trip down the roots of the great tree seven years ago. But your memories are murky, dangerous, and you have no wish to relive them, maybe not even to save the world you doomed…

the warrior. ves ul’niva (m->nb - he/him)

Ves was a wanderer and a warrior before you doomed the kingdom, but he wants peace and rest now, and what better way to achieve it than marrying into the royal family (even if the way in is you, the disgraced briarheart), where all your needs are taken care of? Ves is an open book and wears his heart in his sleeve - but something tells you it might not be his real one.

the savior. kaisa ul’aroh (f - she/her)

Kaisa was your childhood rival. Fiercely determined and terribly smart, she was just one step ahead of you in everything, and the obvious choice for one of your companions in the trip down to the roots of the world - but you didn’t expect her to succeed when you failed. Now she’s everything you were meant to be: famous, respected, powerful. But how much exactly does she remember about happened - what does she truly know?

the scion. nima sil’thor (nb - they/them)

Coming from a recluse noble family, Nima’s intentions are just as big a mystery as the Silent Tower they came from. Quiet and just a bit strange, they don’t seem dangerous, but there is something about the way they move, the way they speak, that unsettles you. A Thor has not left the tower in decades, so why them - and why now?

The wild is not as much a being as it is a will. It is the lifeblood of the Crowned Grove, the soul of the giant tree where the last kingdom on earth clings to existence - and it is dying. Struggling against the rot spreading through its roots, it slips inside the minds, souls and bodies of its children, desperate for the strength it needs to survive. It is old, too old, maybe older than the tree itself - and it has chosen you as its heart.

a customizable main character — set your pronouns, choose your gender, appearance and build on top of the base personality throughout the story.

choose your fae heritage - soil, the power over the dead and the dying; roots, the power over all who grow from the earth; or blood, the power over the beasts of the wood.

unveil the mystery —why did you fail? why is the crowned grove sick in the first place? and what exactly happened down the roots of the world?

build relationships — romantic or platonic, you choose how to interact with the main cast of characters (queerplatonic relationships included!)

fight - or not - against the wild — the wild chose you as its briarheart, and even after your failure the connection between you and the eldritch soul of the crowned grove is strong. will you let it consume you? can you even fight against it?

you decide — your choices matter and will change the outcome of the story and the fate of the characters around you.

delve into the kingdom of crowned grove — the entire story is set in a truly (and i do mean truly) massive tree, where the last kingdom still stands. explore the bitter branch, the land of the fae; the alcove, a mercantile haven; the shallows, where the rot is everywhere; briar’s spear, the seat of the royal family; and much more!

and more!

player discretion is advised.

violence

depictions of blood and gore

death

explicit language

sexually suggestive themes

memory loss

sense of unreality; doubt over reality

THE STORY AND BLOG ARE 18+!!

PLAY IT NOW.

#twine #twine game #interactive fiction #interactive fiction wip #if #interactive fiction game #interactive novel #sugarcube #briarheart #briarheart if #interactive game

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tanadrin · 2 years

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This one neat trick deities HATE

Pascal’s wager is dumb because it assumes the only two possibilities are “no god” or “Christian god.” Here’s how you can hedge your bets on salvation much more confidently:

According to legends concerning Amitābha, he was so concerned with the plight of souls trapped in the cycle of reincarnation, he resolved to become a buddha so he could create a buddhakṣetra, a a paradisiacal realm beyond ordinary reality that souls could be reincarnated into in order to learn to escape the cycle of rebirth. Since his goal is to help souls escape saṃsāra that otherwise would be unable to, all you have to do to ensure reincarnation in Amitābha’s buddhakṣetra is to call upon his name ten times, with a sincere desire to be reborn there. I don’t know about you, but if Amitābha is real, I would sincerely wish to visit his buddhakṣetra, so this one is easy!

Keep the Noahide laws. Since only Jews are required to keep the commandments of Judaism, even if you fully believe in the Jewish religion, you do not have to keep all six hundred odd commandments if you are not a Jew. All you have to do is keep to a broader definition of good behavior. The Babylonian Talmud lists seven of these laws, and they’re basic things like don’t murder, don’t steal, don’t commit adultery, establish courts of law. Do that, and you’ll have a spot in HaOlam HaBa. Pretty standard if rather conservative stuff--definitely easier than converting to Judaism. How to interpret “not worshipping idols” is a bit trickier, since presumably this commandment is not “be irreligious,” or “be a Jew.” Perhaps it’s meant literally--do not worship statues, do not treat statues as gods? Or perhaps it’s an instruction about generally being monotheistic. But that’s fine, because we don’t need to worship Amitābha, or any other figure, in statue form or otherwise, to complete this list.

Other dharma-based traditions like Jainism and Hinduism have no afterlife as such, just a cycle of reincarnation. You will want to try to accumulate merit and avoid accumulating demerit, but even if you fuck it up, any resulting state or world you end up in will, at least, be temporary. Depending on how “merit” is defined, donating some money to a temple or monastic organization might help. Helpfully, this dovetails somewhat with Zoroastrianism, which requires good thoughts, words, and deeds of you, but not (as far as I know) actual belief in order to attain the House of Song once you cross Chinvat. No anal sex, though, because Angra Mainyu invented that; but N.B. the Noahide Laws require avoiding “sexual immortality,” and I suspect the Babylonian Talmud frowns on that, too.

Next, you’ll need to memorize the Qur’an, to become a hafiz or hafiza. This is admittedly a bit harder--the Qur’an is long--but there is a tradition of memorizing it that perhaps you can draw on for advice and support. Maybe a YouTube video or two. And at least some traditions of Islam maintain that if you memorize the Qur’an, you are guaranteed entry to Jannah. This opinion is not universally held, but all other possibilities of getting salvation under Islam are likely to be voided if you are not, or are a bad Muslim when you die. And you can’t simply recite the Shahada on your deathbed, because that’s when you’ll need to...

Accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior and get baptized as a Christian! Do not do this until you are actually, literally about to die. Try to time it, if possible, so that your unavoidable death happens immediately afterward. Baptism is a washing-away of sin and is valid only once; otherwise, most Christian traditions hold that the only way to be absolved of sin is to confess your sins (possibly to a priest, if Orthodox or Catholic), and if you die without confession or last rites, you’re hosed. And so, so many things are sins. You will fuck up, and that’s the point: in Christianity, we all suck ass, and you are almost always (but not quite) screwed. Christianity is by far the strictest one here; there are some Christian denominations that believe it’s only necessary to be baptized as a Christian, while others believe you must hold to their specific doctrines or you count as an unbeliever. Since there are too many of the latter to appease them all, we must content ourselves that if any of them are correct, we stood no chance, practically speaking, anyway; God just wanted to fuck with us on our way down. Some Christians, the universalist denominations, believe all are saved regardless, because God is indeed loving, and not a malicious bastard; fortunately, if they are correct, this whole list is superfluous! But we want to hedge our bets. If you’ve already been baptized, you’ll have to confess your sins and sincerely ask for absolution, which is a bit harder than just renouncing Satan and so forth, especially if you don’t regret all the anal sex Angra Mainyu tricked you into. If you don’t think you can manage a sincere repentance, there is one other escape clause--martyrdom. Dying for Jesus is a guaranteed one-way ticket to redemption, but hard to manage now that all the lion pits are closed. You could always try to proselytize to the Sentinelese, hand out Chick tracts in a rough neighborhood, or, if you’re really desperate, try the Circumcellion way--get a big stick and charge someone who’s armed yelling “Praise the Lord!” and hope they martyr you right then and there. But frankly. this is dubious at best and I don’t recommend it.

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1634archive · 10 months

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1634archive navigation

disclaimer: i’ve edited none of these pics beyond removing the gettyimages (or other stock site) watermark , and i don’t own them obviously. they’re as the photographers edited/posted them, and i’ve copied and pasted the legitimate captions from the site entries as a way to provide the context and allow you to go back and find the source image if you’re interested. i’ve also weeded out some pics that felt redundant or lower quality, but other than that, the entire 1.1k+ photos tagged with mitch marner and auston matthews from getty are posted on this blog, as well as a couple hundred from other sites like usa today and the canadian press. i will try to continue to update this as seasons go on as well. the tagging system is listed below! enjoy!!

first and foremost: for randomized fun, click this or the ‘random’ link in the bio to get your 1634 pic of the day

tagging system:

if you’re looking for a specific date, the posts are tagged as ‘mm.dd.yy’ (i.e. april 10, 2021 is tagged as ‘04.10.21’) (yes, the american way, it’s habit)

if you’re looking for a specific leafs player that isn’t auston or mitch, they’re tagged by just their last names (i.e. william nylander is tagged as ‘nylander’).

if you’re looking for a specific opponent, they’re tagged by just team name, not location (i.e. pittsburgh penguins are just tagged as ‘penguins’).

pro tip: if you’re wanting to search multiple tags on mobile or on the desktop blog, just put a comma between them in the search bar (i.e. if you want photos of 1634 with morgan rielly from the year 2019, search ‘rielly, 2019′)

years:

2016

2017

2018

2019

2020

2021

2022

2023

type:

arrival (fit pics/walk in)

handshake (hallway pre game)

warmups

anthem (post warmup pre game)

game (all in-game)

overhead

bench (anything near bench)

celly

practice

locker room

media

gloves

fans (any pic where fans are framed prominently)

my own personal favorite pics

events:

playoffs

16-17 centennial classic

all star game

2021 blue vs white intersquad game

any specialty/warmup/third jersey games

22-23 heritage classic

non-hockey events

most common photographers:

mark blinch (our lord and savior)

kevin sousa

claus andersen

andre ringuette

julian avram

andrew lahodynskyj

steve russell

list of less occurring/non-leaf photographers here.

some of the other most common leafs:

morgan rielly

william nylander

john tavares

michael bunting

justin holl

tj brodie

if there are any other specifics someone would like tagged, feel free to shoot me a message on this blog or my main. i’ll be revisiting and tweaking this blog lots in the future (potentially making it more than just a picture archive but we’ll see), and i’m not opposed to retagging for certain things that would be helpful to all the web-weavers and narrative tellers out there.

hope a single other soul gets some use out of this! ❣️❣️❣️

#nav #txt

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firecurls-27 · 1 year

Note

for ur new cupchal aus could you give more info about them if not my favorite is the cult leader and god

Oooooooo thank you so much for asking! ^^

Ok, I’ll go over a list so get ready for a long post-

(Also, excuse my bad wording)

*ahem*

Churchy kid x actual demon

“I could fix her” and “I could make him worse”

Basically, it’s about cuphead (and possibly mugman and other kids in the inkwell isles) being part of a church, he was one of the choir boys/greeters, and a bit of a troublemaker!

One night, he faces an actual demon, who went by the name of “ms malice” and for some reason, seeing her for the first time, he felt as if he had fallen in love…..ms malice doesn’t really know the definition of “love” but she really wants to learn. Cuphead discused her as one of the helpers, but boy oh boy she didn’t act like one!

The only reason she was even in the living world was so she could capture runaway souls, she wasn’t supposed to get attached…..

Sheriff x bartender

“She’s a dumbass, but she’s my dumbass”

Didn’t expect CUPHEAD to be the responsible one, did ya? Ah yes, the ol west! Shy is blue, birds are singin’, crops are growin’, and with sheriff chalice around, it’s goin just swell!

Unless she does some stupid shit.

Now cuphead is a town renowned bartender because of his famous drinks! He’s charming, kind, anything a gal could want! Chalice already called dibs, though. And she makes sure everyone knows.

Basically, cuphead is like her leash, but every now and then, he can get a little koo-koo too-

Detective x mob boss’s wife

*gasp!* how scandalous! >:V

Yes, detective cooper here has somehow ended up falling right in the heart of the city’s number one mobster’s WIFE! Her of all people!

Detective cooper never really thought about love, he’s been too busy keeping himself on his feet, solving cases, yada yada yada.

One night, he went to the very bar our lovely Mrs Alice was preforming. He had never fallen harder for another being in his whole life. After the show, he confessed his emotions and offered her dinner and a show. She wanted to say yes, but her husband’s car had pulled up to the curb. Our detective hid behind a counter as Mrs Alice had a conversation with her husband, the city’s #1 mobster, rumored to clear out an entire room in under an hour. Although, dangerous as he was, he never noticed anything about his wife’s affairs. after he left Mrs Alice agreed to detective cooper’s offer.

Basically, he KNOWS he’ll be killed if he keeps this up, but some people can’t say no to their heart….

Cult leader x their god

(Warning that this one is a little touchy, so fair warning that this one might be a tad bit disturbing-)

(Since y’all liked this one the most, I went a LIIIIIIL too hard on the art. And don’t worry, that’s not cuphead’s blood-)

This one takes place in a post-apocalypse, devastation everywhere you look. No more rules, but that’s just more dangerous. With the devil running loose, it’s not surprising people would try and look for a savior. For YEARS, people tried calling on a goddess, one who was said to heal, to bring peace.

For over a hundred years, a cult did everything they could to try and summon her. And one day, after all the mayhem, all the chaos, all the sacrifices made, she finally came.

The new leader of this “cult” was given the title leader, after the last one grew too old. He never really thought the goddess would come when HE was alive, but here we are.

At first, all she wanted to do was explore the earth she had left so many years ago, cuphead tried to both show her around AND try to get her to try and heal people!

She did not pay attention one bit, and went to go chase a frog.

A few months later, he no longer saw a goddess known to triumph evil, but a girl who simply loved life and was heartbroken to see what had happened to earth.

Cuphead doesn’t even think she remembers how to even use her powers…..Yet he still was devoted to her and never left her side. Not even for a minute. No mortal has ever treated her like that before. That’s why he’s her favorite.

Some of the other members don’t approve of their little “relation” because they need her to heal people, but obviously cuphead spoils her too much.

💛(That’s all I got for now, but I hope you like it! Which one was your favorite?)❤️

#my art #my post #ask firecurls #cuphead #cuphead: ddwtd #the cuphead show #cuphead art #cuphead au #cupchal #tw cult #tw religion #tw blood #tw injury #tw sharp objects

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mutiara-05 · 5 months

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A new heavy morning arrived again our guy has survived left his room with a smiley mask wearing is his daily task worried eyes he couldnt hide scared no matter who he's beside begging god to prove him wrong fade his fear like a beat of a song but the sky doors were shut it was real, the feeling in his gut slow steps, head down, heavy chest ready to give up not just take a rest went back to his room and closed the door dropped his bag and sat next to it on the floor when he tried to take the water bottle out the blue cutter shined bringing him doubt not once he looked at it but rather twice heard it saying "I write very nice try me now, on skin not paper give it a go I might be your savior" a loud sound distracted the boy hypnotized, moving like a stringed toy eyelids in love missing eachother maybe now their hug will last forever bare figure laying on the cold ground tired? or did he follow the sound? hours passed as he's laying down not moving, covered by the death gown sunrey creeped into the kid room fell on his wet cheeks hoping they'd bloom lightheaded, he woke in a red rose many small ones, like wine drops that blue friend was in the corner said "morning you pathetic loner" mischievous smile that speaks hate turns he's the keeper oh hells gate

the boy soul went down leaving a lifeless body behind facing this world with no pause option nor rewind his mask fell, he's broken and not so alive fake was the smile that made others think he'd survive used to show with fresh perfume and elegant style to impress now got a yellow face and dark under his eyes, clearly restless lower marks and slower moves cause no energy is left in him used to light up parties so no one knew how his mind is dim took off his red jacket cause he got red all over his skin switched to black with long sleeves to cover up his sin something is wrong and its alerting that everybody can tell "he used to run he used to fly, how come all of sudden he fell?" "remove your sunglasses, cap and dont forget the heavy scarf" but he's the one to grow smeraldo so these requests are rough someone got him a new water bottle so he leave his bag pocket that one doesnt know about the blue friend so why'd they get it? another one who knows tried to wipe all the red off of his desk but he already crossed a line and doesnt need a hint to take a risk some people used to tell him that he's not a human but an angel guess life really wanted to show him things from its every angle was kicked out of paradise so he came down to the earth six thousands and one hundred forty days after his birth he got so fed up and decided to just take his life away left a note to the stars "sorry I cant take another day"

hey little lost boy where is your blue flower? wasnt it the only source of your pathetic power? thinking you're brave going without it another hour? then crawl alone when your energy gets lower he left his phone a couple meters after the door and dropped his back in a corner on second floor on the third he lost his mind and went for more stood at the edge ready to fall from level four thought he would cry but no tears came out "if I don't fall now then I'll blindly cross the route" then stopped and wondered what is it all about took a breath while stepping back filled by doubt went back to the first floor and grabbed his phone up to the second to take the bag and leave alone saw another one beside his which froze his bone felt a shadow behind so he had to control his tone bright smile with a "don't overthink, we're fine" at ten became "bad" what was a "good" at nine he said and said "I got you this, it looks like mine" a door opened and both left like they got a sign

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skarlette1 · 3 months

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Damned, Lucky Heroine

Argent always told me not to charge in when I would be outnumbered, Sable thought to herself as she bounced on the Lustimp’s massive phallus. She had recognized the shapeshifting magical menaces as demonic invaders from the Dimension of Desire. Libido League protocol would have required her to contact Doctor Q to face the pleasure demons.

There’s only five of them, and I have the strength of a hundred men, Sable had thought before charging in.

Sable hadn’t know that she also had the lust of a hundred horny sluts boiling insider her. But the touch of the Lustimps brought out every dirty, raunchy, insatiable, wanton impulse Sable had ever had. At the smell of their demonic sweat, Sable tore off her costume. Gazing into their sex-drenched gaze, Sable impaled herself on the nearest Lustimp’s phallus while stroking two others.

As the demon-lust magic sank into her soul, Sable’s only thought was I’m glad there’s five of them so I can suck one’s phallus while the last one fucks my asshole. I’m such a lucky heroine.

---

Like what you read? Maybe buy me a coffee to help me keep going? Or take a look at my longer fiction?

Sable stars in the Libido League stories “Savior Seduced” available on Smashwords and Amazon and “Friend Fatale” available on Smashwords and Amazon.

Twisted demonic sex magic features in both Libido League #4, “Spell-napped” available at Smashwords and Amazon and Libido League #8, “Demonic Desires,” available at Smashwords and Amazon.

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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poems-from-beyond · 1 year

Text

My Devil

Dragging me with him thought hell

knowing well I'd be quick to follow his lead

waltzing like old soul couple through the halls of the red palace

Quickly we said goodbye only with our words

as I go back to my normal life of the human curse

Going back to my ways of darkness

I had said "My love, my dear devil I will dress in black and red just for you- just say the words and I will do as you wished of me my dear!"

His smile so sweet for all the sins he was accused of

"Dear flower mine, why do you want me to say what you already know? To be sure I'm loyal to you? Or to keep yourself from going back into those 'evil' acts of yours? your obsessions?"

All his questions spinning in my head like a carousel.

For him a hundred times I would die just to prove my loyalty once over and again to him.

"You are mine, and I love you to the moon, the nine circles of hell and back"

He sang like a bird from the heavens

My bird from the heavens.

All mine. Only mine.

"I love you dearly my sad little angel"

the agony I screamed for him to come to me back again from the dead.

As I go back to black.

As I walk thought the palace, once again alone, and full of sorrow.

"My dear devil, I warned you- why wouldn't you listen to me?"

I asked hoping to hear his angelic voice once again.

Clinging to a false hope, a false reality where he is still here, by my side.

"I love you much- I love you! I adore you even in death my Samuel! My savior!"

I screamed and cried.

As I bid my last goodbye.

We only said goodbye with words.

You died once again as I go back to black.

🌙🥀Moon Lunaire🥀🌙

#poetry #writers and poets #my poem #poetscommunity #love poems #poems on tumblr #poemsbyme #my poems #original poem #poem of the day #poem

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starphasedd · 2 years

Text

To Trust a Jedi series

Din Djarin x F!reader

Part One - Sweet

Chapter 3 - Savior

Series Rating- 18+

Synopsis: A former Jedi learning to trust again finds herself creating a partnership with a Mandalorian.

Notes: I'm following the original storyline loosely for now--but will branch off later. This chapter was really to show the relationship development between Din and reader in the beginning.

Word count: BUCKLE IN BITCHES ITS 8K+

AO3 LINK

It was hard to explain.

Hard to explain that you were once a traitor to humanity--a monster. A woman who had the blood of a thousand men on her hands. You spent that last decade washing yourself of that blood--the guilt and the shame.

You weren't going to say you had a terrible childhood, in vain attempt to bait sympathy from others. But that's how it always is, right? Young woman grows up an orphan, never knowing the love of a mother or father, so she turns to the Empire to get her revenge--it was the lack of love that drove her there! Maker, the whole idea was fucking stupid.

What transpired back then was all your doing. Your blatant ignorance as a young girl. You didn't know what you were doing. You had no idea you were being conditioned to become a killer. You were young and stupid, desperately trying to prove yourself to anyone who would listen.

Are you angry about what they did to you--what they made you do--or were you angry with yourself for being stupid enough to let it happen? You thought about that constantly. That terrifying question was constantly scraping at the back of your brain--aching to reer it's ugly head and send you into a downwards spiral. You hated yourself sometimes.

At the ripe, immature, age of 18, you were coerced into joining the Imperial Army. A pretty young woman with an extraordinary talent for piloting any machine she got her hands on. You never understood this talent--not fully--until you spent time as a fighter pilot in the Imperial Army. You would soon come to realize that this wasn't just a talent--it was a gift. A gift that was now hunted for.

You started at the bottom of the Totem-pole; bottom of the food chain. Your piloting and mechanical talents soon shot you up that ladder. After nearly 10 years, you were promoted to a Squad Commander--and you were given the opportunity to build your own squad of fighter pilots.

You were a fearless pilot. Unlike any other. You never backed down, not even in the most dangerous of situations--situations that should have gotten you killed. Whenever you were given a task, a mission, you followed through one hundred percent of the time. You never missing a shot--precision was your entire being. Year after year, hundreds of innocent men would die by your hands. Small, nimble fingers gripping gun controls in a fighter jet. Those sounds--or rather the lack of--still haunted you. Space was a dense, cold vaccum. When you locked your finger on that trigger and pulled, there was no sound. No explosion, no hiss of the other ship's air-lock breaking, no crackle from the flames. Nothing. Your victims last words, or his screams, would be sucked into the vaccum of space, never to be heard by any living soul.

The first time was suprising, the next few times relieving, and then it became an ache, a living hell. Your mind began fucking with you--creating the sounds and screams for you instead. Only you weren't just hearing them echo through your head while flying, you were hearing them while you slept. While getting a shower, eating dinner. You couldn't escape the sounds of the pure terror you wrought upon hundreds of innocent souls.

Those screams and images that flashed through your mind on the daily are what drove you to make the decision you did, ten years ago. A decision that would change your life indefinitely.

---------

Din was still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. When you and child stood defenselessly behind him as the horned beast reered to stomp him into the dirt. How he laid there in defeat, having already accepted his fate. It was shameful, to him and his creed to have given in so easily, and how it ended up being a tiny grimlin child that saved his life. With the help of a woman he had just met not a couple hours prior.

He sat in the pilots chair of the Razor Crest, gloved fingers gently tapping the arm rest of his seat as he was leaned back, deep in thought. The beskar helmet laid back against the head rest as he watched the stars slow--the Crest coming out of hyperspace as they approached Navarro.

The soft hum of the engines, and the metal creaking brought him back to reality. And when he heard the soft pitter-patter of your significantly smaller boots against the floor in the haul, he turned his helmet to the side. Positioning his ears to listen. He heard you shuffling panels--popping them back into place. Then he could hear you scooting crates back to where you got them, softly mumbling to yourself--or the boy--as you went about your business. He didn't know why he had suddenly invited you on board the Razor Crest a day ago. For all he knew, you could be a hunter too--waiting for a prime moment to hijack his ship and take the kid for your own.

He couldn't bring himself to believe those theories. He had watched you fight Jawas, shoot a beast for him, and protect a small child whom you had just met, all within twelve hours of knowing him. On top of that, you agreed to go into hyperspace with a man you didn't know. Yet, you seemed to trust him enough to do so.

He sat there for another few minutes before getting up to go down to the lower level. After the cockpit doors hissed open, he descended the ladder. Once his large feet clumped to a hault on the haul floor, his helmet shifted to the left to see you sitting with your back against the wall. Your legs up at your chest--squeezing the boy into your breasts.

There was a lump in his throat. He swallowed thickly as his eyes traced down your sharp jawline, over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts under the boys purring face. Your chest rose softly as you breathed calmly with the boy. You nimble fingers drawing circles over his back. Din shifted to the side slowly, hoping to not frighten you as he began walking your way.

When he came to a hault right above you, your face slowly rose and your eyes seemed to make contact with his, even under his helmet. How were you doing that? Since you first looked at him back on Arvala-7, you always seemed to be able to catch his eyes.

"We're arriving soon." He speaks--tone rough. Presumably from his mouth drying out at the sight of the child snuggled into your swollen breasts. The torn and filthy v-neck shirt not leaving much to his imagination. His gloved hands stay at his sides, fingers twitching gingerly, almost nervously.

"Right." You say before placing your feet on the floor and hauling your body up straight.

Din craned his neck down to look at you, your eyes meeting his once again before you shifted to move past him. Taking the small green child to settle him down in his hoverpram. He kept his helmet trained on the floor, his back to you before he heard you speak again.

"Do you--" you pause. "--know what the client plans on doing with him?" You ask softly, you're now facing him--so he forces himself to turn around and look at you.

Of course he doesn't know. It's against Guild rules to ask. Do the job, collect the reward and forget it ever happened. But--with this child, something seemed different. When he first found the child, he had wondered what the big fuss was about. What did the client want to do with a fifty year old green baby? Maybe he understood now. After analyzing everything that had transpired since he found the child, he could determine there was something special about him. He doesn't quite understand what yet. He may never find out.

Din can tell you're getting impatient when you shuffle your body towards him some more and cross your arms over your chest. He helmet moves to look up your body, and stops on your face. His fingers giving away his nervousness or rather, his uncertainty. He only shakes his head slightly to answer you. He can hear the sigh of disappointment leak from your lips.

To Din's suprise though--you offer him a smile, a weak one, but a smile nonetheless. He watches as you turn slowly to look down at the boy in his pram, small hands coming down to land on him.

"I just hope he isn't in any danger."

Din didn't say anything--just watches you. His helmet then slowly falling to the boy who slept peacefully in the hoverpram.

That was a question he wished he could answer. He couldn't put his finger on it, he didn't understand why he felt a pull to the kid. Regardless, he was a hunter. He didn't have time to worry himself with the child. He simply needed to drop the boy off, collect his reward and see Karga about his next puck. But something was still itching at him as he watched you turn and walk around the pram, heading for the fresher and shutting the door behind you.

------

The Mandalorian settled the Razor Crest down on the ground, sand and dirt shooting up and filling the air surrounding as the tracks made contact with the earth below. The ramp squealed and shook as his broke open from it's brackets, slowly lowering to the ground and slamming down. He finished flipping a few more buttons on the control panel before turning in his seat and descending the ladder.

You sat on a crate, unwinding the jacket from your waist and pulling it up over your shoulders, slipping your arms in each sleeve. You stood as he approached, his hands in front of him as he toyed with the small equipment on his forearm. The boy's hoverpram syncing and automatically begining to following him.

He walked past you---heavy steps echoing through the haul as he approached the ramp and started walking down. When he reached the bottom, he stopped and locked his helmet on you, watching you walk down shortly after him.

Your smaller boots making less noise, you walk down the ramp and stop in front of him--the gentle breeze from other ships docking around you knocking a few more stands of hair down, falling to your shoulders. You look up at him, the silence a little awkward before you decide to break it.

"Stinks here. Suits this planet." You murmur, eyes trained on his T-visor as a wide smile creeps along your lips--waiting for his response.

It takes a few seconds, but you see his shoulders jutt slightly, and a small chuckle comes through the modulator. Maker, you made him laugh. You smile wider--if possible--and then pull your bottom lip between your teeth to bite down. He watches you silently, trying to seem unphased but you can see the way his body responds. He stiffens and his fists clench at his sides.

He then reaches into his utility belt, helmet never leaving your face as you start to cross your arms over your chest. He pulls out a small bag, and holds it in front of you. You look down at the bag hanging from his gloved fingers and cock your head to the side, curious.

"Whats this?"

"Credits. To get off this planet." He says.

You chuff and take one hand to gently push his much larger one away with the credits.

"I can manage." You say. His intense stare burning a hole through you.

"Take it." He says more roughly this time.

You wave your hand at him and shake your head. "No. You earned those credits. I'm not taking them--"

He stands firm, gripping the bag of credits tightly.

"--my passage here was payment enough."

You see him stand a little more tall, shoulders shifting back to make himself look bigger. Was he trying to intimidate you? You question that only until he shifts forth to grab your small wrist in his hand. He forces your palm up and gently lays the bag of credits snug on your skin.

"You earned them," He says. "for helping me repair my ship, and watching the kid."

You held your hand there in mid-air, palm still open as he moved his hands to grip the buckle of his belt, hips jutted out to the side again. You pondered giving it back to him again, but you knew it would get you nowhere. He was an honest, honorable man and wanted to compensate you for your troubles.

It was honestly rude of you to reject the first time, so you sigh in defeat and drop your hand to place the bag of credits in your jacket pocket.

"You win this time, Mando."

"I tend to." He says, voice deeper and smoother than before.

Now this--this was blatant teasing and it made you blush for the first time in front of him. Your face is a flushed bright red, you push your lips out in frustration and huff. Mando just stands there, not moving an inch from where he was standing. You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to seem firm, but it only makes him shift his helmet slightly. He was still gawking at you, but from a different angle now.

You keep your eyes trained on the T-visor where you thought his eyes were for a few more seconds and then huff again. You shift to stomp past the foreboding man to the child behind him. You dropped your hands into the pram softly placed both palms on each side of the child's head. He shifted, looking up at you with those beautiful brown hues--larger than life. For a moment, his smile makes you forget all about the intimidating Mandalorian behind you. Your thumps slowly stroking the insides of his large ears as he coos.

"Looks like this is goodbye, sweet boy." You say softly, a new feeling starting to appear.

The feeling of dread--sorrow--fills your stomach. It briefly sends chills down your spine and your smile slowly disappears. You had no idea what Mando's client planned on doing with the child. You'd hoped that Mando wouldn't harm the child-- you didn't think he would. In the past few days of knowing him, he seemed to be a honorable man. You had a feeling he wasn't that type. But--his client was a different story. Seeing what the child was capable of back on Arvala-7 made your face burn. He had abilities beyond his own control and you had a gut feeling he may be in danger--a target.

It wasn't your place to question it though. Too many times you let your gut get you into trouble. Making assumptions without fully understanding the entirely of the situation. So, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile as you hear the child coo again. He grabs the pointer finger on your right hand and squeezes.

"Stay out of trouble, alright?"

He coos softly, cocking his head to the side as if asking you what that meant. A soft chuckle falls from your mouth before you slowly shift to the side, unwillingly pulling your fingers from the boy. Your body on autopilot as you walk away from the him and back towards the Mandalorian.

You stop in front of Mando and catch the middle of his T-visor again. He cranes his neck down to look at you.

"Thanks again." You say softly. "For getting me out of the mess."

He looks at you in silence, chest rising and falling gently as he breaths.

"No need to thank me. Don't be stupid next time and go after Jawa's by yourself." He says.

(He says that like he didn't do the same damn thing)

You laugh at him and place your hands on your hips. You think you catch his helmet trailing down your arm to where those hands just planted--then back up to your face.

You reach your hand out, open for him to grab and shake. He obliges, reaching out and shaking it firmly. His gloves are cold rough, no doubt from that abuse they had taken over the years.

Giving him one more sweet smile, you turn on your heels and head into the city. Mando's helmet burning holes into the back of your head until you physically aren't visible to him anymore. A brief moment of relief floods over you when you can't feel his eyes on you anymore. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something about him--the way he carried himself--so confident, sure in his actions, it set your body on fire. You only just met the man for Makers sake. You could tell he was dangerous.

A sigh leaves your lips as you look around at the unfamiliar territory. Right, where to now?

-----

Din's back was aching. He hadn't slept in over a week, and had been thrown to the ground multiple times by a Blurrg on Arvala-7. Then he was beaten half to death by a Mud Horn. Part of him was ready to get this exchange over with and be on his way. The other part of him was filling his mind and body with guilt and curiosity. He wasn't normally like this. He was good at not getting attached--he prided himself on it. Mandalorian's were lone creatures.

As he descended the last set of stairs near the client's hideout, he couldn't get rid of that itch still prodding in the back of his mind.

"I just hope he isn't in any danger"

Your words echoed through his mind as he approached the door with the kid in tow. He brought his gloved hand up to knock 2 times firm on the metal entrance. The long, sphere extended from it's hole and spoke gruff in an alien language. Din lifted his chain code for it to scan, and the doors swing open.

Two storm troopers appeared and one of them grabbed the rim of the hoverpram, pulling it with him as he began walking down a dark hallway. The other storm trooper staying close behind him.

"Easy with it." Din says firmly.

"You take it easy." The storm trooper bites back.

They bring him to the same room where he collected the bounty request. That same, gangly old man hunched over in his seat. His eyes light up and he shoots from his chair to step around the table.

"Yes. Excellent!" He says.

Din watches him carefully, helmet turning slightly to observe the multiple storm troopers around him. The man comes to a stop in front of the hoverpram to see the child. The boy's little green ears drooping as if he's disturbed.

"Your reputation was not unwarranted, Mandalorian." The man speaks. His eyes glancing up at Din before he leans back up tall, swiftly turning and approaching the table once again.

"Glad to see this Beskar going back to where it belongs, with it's ancestors." He says, sarcasm evident in his tone. He rounds the table and places his hand atop a small metal box. It hisses open when he presses a button on the side. Three chambers fall to reveal two stacks of pure beskar.

Din looks at the beskar for a few moments, the storm troopers keeping a close eye on him. He shifts closer, his hand reaching down to grab a couple pieces and examine them. He's pleased with the amount of beskar here--he could have this melted down to make stunning armour and still have some left to donate to the foundlings. But--he still couldn't shake that itch about the child. He places the beskar back down in the chamber and looks up at the man before him

"What do you plan on doing with the kid?" He asks.

The man stares at him, disdain and anger falling upon his features.

"How uncharacteristic of you Mandalorian. Is it not the Guild code to forget everything once you collect payment?" His tone is rough, agitated.

Din keeps looking at him for a moment before looking to the side, watching the occupied hoverpram slowly follow someone through a doorway. The boy inside cooing sadly and watching Din as he disappears.

"Do not overstep." The man says, pulling Dins attention back to him. He stands there, fists starting to clench by his sides before he takes one big step forward and closes the chambers on the device. He grabs the handle and lifts it off the table.

Din glances around the room one more time before looking back at the man. He squeezes the handle harder. Letting out a sigh unheard behind the helmet--he nods quickly and turns to exit the building. The sound of his heavy steps echoing as the main door hisses shut behind him.

---

Din knew exactly where he needed to head next. He was in desperate need of new armor.

He sat in front of the Armourer, who began melting down the beskar plates, piece by piece. She had measured his chest, thighs and opposite shoulder to fit him for appropriate sizes. His hands were clenched on his knees as he desperately tried to get the child out of his mind. The heat from the fire in front of him only aggitating him more.

When the Armourer inquired about creating his signant, he declined. Deep down he thought he surely didn't deserve one--having had his life saved by a woman and child only days before. The guilt still having a hold on him.

Instead, he opted for the Whistling Birds--a delicate but thorough weapon that attached to each forearm..

Some time later, he was walking down the streets in brand new armor. The bright glint of the experience beskar covering his entire body enamored everyone he passed. He made his way to the Cantina, where he was met with groups of harrowing eyes.

"Ah, Mando! Come in, come in!" Comes the loud and boisterous Karga Greef.

Din approaches Karga, who is sat in his usual booth--arms and legs spread as he seems to take up the entire bench. He has a wide and confident smile on his face.

"The Beskar suits you!"

Din stands still in front of Karga, not moving an inch as he surveys the room. He can hear idle chatter throughout.

"Come, sit!" Karga says loudly. "Let us celebrate another successful hunt!" He says, his left hand gesturing to one of the waiter droids to bring over drinks.

Din stands firm, looking down at Karga before sighing and reaching back to pull this pulse rifle off his back. He leans down, shuffling his large body into the small space between the bench and the table. He sets the rifler on the spot next to him.

"How does it feel?!" Karga asks. Din knows where this is going. He leans back against his seat. "How does it feel to be the best kriffing hunter around?!" He guffaws, the droid coming to set a glass down in front of him. Slowly, it pours spotchka into his cup. Din doesn't budge.

"I'm here for my next job."

"Oh c'mon Mando, you just finished! Why don't you take some time to relax?" Karga spouts.

Din leans in, hand firmly flat on the table. "My next job." He says.

Karga scoffs and leans back in his seat, bringing the blue drink to his lips to take a sip. "Say, I saw you touch down with a woman!" He says loudly. "She's a pretty one! Did you scare her off already?" Karga chuckles out.

Din's pointer finger twitches. He begins leaning back in his seat in a start and get out to leave, but Karga notices and stops him.

"Fine! Fine. Take your pick." He says with a grunt, reaching into his vest and pulling out a handful of pucks. He throws a few of them across the table at him. Din settles back down in his seat and cranes his neck down to scan over the pucks in front of him. Karga starting to tap his fingers impatiently on the table.

Din finally makes a selection--a bail jumper far away from this planet--and slides it to the middle of the table. Karga crosses his legs under the table and brings his arms up to lay over his chest.

"Fine selection, Mando."

Karga lays his glass back on the table, prompting the the droid to lean forward and pour more spotchka into his glass. He keeps his eyes trained on Din.

Slowly, Din grabs the puck and places it in his belt.

"The woman, Mando--" Karga repeats as Din begins crawling from the bench, throwing his pulse rifle back over his shoulder.

"Is none of your business." Din interrupts.

Karga freezes for a moment, almost as if that intimidated him. He scoffs softly and shakes his head, letting a hand drop to the full glass in front of him. A soft roll of his shoulders coming after.

Din has his back to Karga as he's getting ready to depart--but that feeling is back and he almost can't help what he says next.

"What do they plan on doing with the kid?" Din asks curtly. Karga immediately looks up at the back of Din's helmet and shugs.

"Don't know. Didn't ask. It's against The Guild rules." Karga speaks. "You'd be wise to remember that."

Din doesn't move for a second and he doesn't say anything. He stands there, fists at his sides.

"Why don't you grab a cantina of spice on your way out? You'll have forgotten all about the kid by the time you jump out of hyperspace." He says, shit-eating grin on his face.

Din tilts his helmet back slowly to glance at Karga before turning on his heel and marching out of the Cantina. His heavy boots clumping the ground as he makes his way through waves of people. He's gripping the strap over his chest hard. Deep down he knows there's something wrong, and he knows the child is in danger.

"I just hope he isn't in any danger."

Your words begin repeating themselves in his head again, the gentleness of your tone. How genuine it was. The way the words selflessly rolled off your tongue. You had only just met the boy but you already seemed so connected to him--caring for him by maternal instinct alone. Din couldn't get the image of the boy nestled against your breasts out of his mind. The way your small, nimble fingers rubbed circles on the boys back as he snuggled into the cushions on your chest. No doubt--warm and sublime.

He approached the Razor Crest as the ramp began to descend. Once he made his way into the cockpit, he was rushed. The only way for him to leave all this behind--like he was supposed to--would be to get off this kriffing planet as soon as possible. He began hurriedly flipping switches. The engines screaming to life as he begins his take off procedures.

It was when he leaned forward to flip one more switch that he was stopped in his tracks. The ball. The small, metal ball that the boy had so innocently wanted to play with when he first captured him.

His fingers hovered over the small sphere before abruptly pulling back and flipping down the switches he has just flipped up. The engines starting to power down as he shifts to stand from the pilots seat. He knew what he had to do.

Din makes his way for the ramp again, but not before stopping at his weapons cabinet and grabbing an extra blaster.

------

You stood at the back of the line. Fifteen to twenty people standing in front of you also looking for passage off this planet. Your fingera fidgety as you held the small bag of credits in your hands. The sun was bright, beaming down scolding hot rays directly on your forehead--making you sweat. It was uncomfortable, and making you slightly irritable.

You tapped your left foot, anxiously waiting for the cashier to call for the next person in line. The tension was rising between everyone in line because of the scorching sun.

You had no idea where you were going yet. Honestly, you were more focused on the fact that you hadn't seen the Razor Crest depart into the sky yet. Mando didn't seem like the type to stick around and chat. Why had it taken him this long to collect the bountry reward and leave?

You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts when you felt a gentle touch on the small of your back. Immediately choosing fight over flight, you whip around and throw your arm back--it comes in contact with pure beskar; shoving it back about a foot. A tinge a pain shoots through your arm and down your spine. Gasping loudly, you look up to see Mando--standing tall in all new armor. The glint of the sun brings tears to your eyes as it burns into your hues.

He stood with both hands in front of his chest, a motion to ease you.

"Easy!" He says loudly.

You exhale, chest falling back to a calm a movement.

"Maker--Mando! Don't do that! You scared me!" You say, shuffling back slightly, your shoulders resting.

He stands there for a brief moment--watching you calm down--and then you chime in again.

"What are you still doing here? Didn't you drop the kid off?" You ask.

His helmet lowers as he approaches you.

"I did--" he pauses, almost sounding unsure of his next words. "I need your help."

You breath out slowly, eye's examining his stiff posture. He's wound up about something. Before you can finish your analysis, his large hand is coming in to grab the apex of your upper arm and forearm. He shifts and starts dragging you behind him until you're both alone in an adjoining alley.

"What is going on?" You ask harshly. He stands close to you, your back almost flush against the wall behind you--he's boxing you in. A gloved hand hovers on your arm for another moment as he looks around anxiously.

"Mando." You say again. He snaps his helmet back to your attention.

"It's the kid." He says.

"What about him?"

"I turned him in--collected the reward." He says more gently. You can hear slight shame in his tone. You stand there, head tilting to the side as you wait for him to elaborate.

"And?" You ask.

He sighs, hand leaving you now as the T-visor burns into you.

"Doesn't feel right."

You watch him, his tall, broad form seems almost vulnerable in this moment. Had he not shown this part of himself to you, you would have thought he was a droid under that helmet. This moment provides proof otherwise.

"He's in a danger. I can feel it."

"What---what kind of danger?" You ask.

"I don't know yet," He says. "but they were Imperial."

Your heart stopped in that moment--years of torturous memories flooding back to you as your skin drains of it's color. Mando notices and his breath catches for a moment. It all made sense now. The Empire knew of the boy and his abilities---he was Force sensitive. Your mouth went dry and you tried to swallow.

"Hey--"

"What's the plan?" You ask, interrupting him--your voice was rough.

"What?" He's slightly suprised at your boldness.

"Trust me when I tell you that it's imperative that we find that boy, Mando--" you say, voice shaking slightly. "--so what's the fucking plan?"

You can't help the feeling that rushes between your legs when you see his shoulders stiffen, and his back straighten-- he stands tall and confident again. He grabs your hand in his and twists your palm to face up.

You feel something heavy drop in your palm but you don't look, eye's still locked on his T-visor.

"I don't have a plan." He says. "Just follow my lead and stay behind me."

You look down to see a small blaster in your palm.

"If we get separated, just make sure you get the kid somewhere safe."

You nod, heading his instructions as he pushed his helmet up to look around again.

"What about you?" You ask.

That's when he turns the helmet back towards you and leans forward, one of his hands coming to rest on the wall next to you. His large body presses you back into the wall and you think you can hear his breath hitch. The warmth of his body consumes you as you try and understand what he's doing. Then you look to the direction he was, and you see two storm troopers marching by. Mando was concealing you.

"Don't worry about me. Just make sure the kid is safe." he whispers near your face. Your hands were now resting atop his beskar chest plating.

"Okay" you nod, speaking breathlessly. Fuck, your body was fibrating--almost like it was feeding off his energy.

Mando removes himself from you when he deems fit and turns, pointing his helmet in the direction he begins walking and you follow closely behind him. You shove the blaster into the empty holster on your belt and keep with him.

He's not even walking that fast, but his legs are significantly longer than yours so he takes longer strides. You're basically jogging behind him as he uses his massive body to push through crowds of people in the shopping district. He then makes a hard left that descends multiple levels.

You come out into another dirty alley and Mando leads you to a large door. He stands tall, knocking firmly on the door before retreating just around the corner and waiting for the identification droid to appear. When it does, Mando reaches out and roughly yanks it apart, throwing it to the ground. A couple seconds go by before the door slides open and two storm troopers appear. You stop breathing for a moment, the familiar sound of their suits clanking together sending chills down your spine.

The storm troopers split up in each direction--mando taking the chance to slide in the door behind them--you followed quickly behind him. He was quick, but you stayed on his tail. Your hand was now gripping your blaster firmly on your hip--ready to shoot at any moment.

Mando ran you down a dark hallway before reaching another door. It swung open after Mando kicked it and inside there was a man standing there, frozen. Fear was written all over his face as he began babbling.

"Wa-wait! P-please don't hurt him! He's just a baby!" The man plead.

"What did you do to it?" Mando asked firmly, you stood behind him and watched his form come to tower over the other man. As Mando approached the man, you slid behind him and grabbed the child out of the machine he was in. You pulled him into your chest once again. When you looked up, Mando was standing over the other man--who was craddled in a ball on the floor. Mando had his blaster trained on him before you slid back beside him.

With the child on your chest, you pushed on Mando's shoulder, beckoning him to follow you as you turned and started for the door. Mando followed tall behind you. His presence behind you was intimidating. The way his boots clumped heavily against the floor as he walked. If you hadn't known it was him, you probably would have been a little scared.

Just as you were about to exit the building, Mando's large arm came to wrap around your waist, his hand splaying over your tummy as he pulled you back against his hard chest. You squeaked at his actions--unwillingly--and held still as two storm troopers walked past the doorway. Marker, how had he heard them? Even you, who had spent years listening to storm troopers clump around in their suits hadn't heard them coming.

You stayed there with your back flush against his front, your ass pressed against his groin--your face begining to heat up as his gloved fingers dig into your belly. You can hear his heavy breathing as the cold beskar grazes your temple.

"Careful." He says next to your ear.

You breath out loudly and nod. His hand slowly, almost hesitantly, leaving you and his body moving in front of yours again. He peeks his head out of the doorway and motions back to you--it seems clear.

Following close behind him again, the sun was starting to set. Bright orange and red rays of light beam off his clean beskar as he moves almost elegantly in front of you. The sounds of the bustling city drown out the intrusive thoughts of his body pressed against yours as you both maneuver silently through the back streets. The child is nestled close to your chest, his tiny form curled up in the blanket you pulled him out in. He has his eyes closed, appearing to be asleep.

"You're gonna be okay, sweetheart." You mumble to him softly as your hand holds him firm to your breasts. He purrs, sending an ocean of goosebumps over your skin.

Within the next ten minutes, the sun had set and clouded everything around you in darkness. The occasional soft glow of a street lamp or open window leading the way as you continue to follow Mando until you come into an opening--the Razor Crest coming into view. A sigh of relief flows from your lips and you smile as you see the old girl parked--ready for take off. You're smile only lasts a few seconds before you're abruptly bouncing off Mando as he comes to a hault in the middle of the courtyard.

"Fuck--Mando! What are yo--" your words trail off and your eyes widen. Your hands automatically tightening around the boy as you see a tall figure standing in the exit. A man comes forward, gripping a blaster at his side. You can hear shuffling behind you. Turning around--you're met with swarms of other hunters. All of them hungry, and brandishing weapons. You stay close to Mando, dropping one of your hands to the blaster on your hip and removing it from the holster. You hold it up firm, pointing in the direction of the men behind Mando while he deals with the one in front of him.

"Welcome back, Mando!" You hear from a distance.

"Let us pass. We're going to my ship." Mando says curtly.

The man in the exit doesn't move.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mando." The man says, shifting to pull the blaster from his belt. "You know this is against the Guild code, Mando." He says.

Mando doesn't reply, but he holds his fingers to hover over the blaster on his hip.

"You brought that poor woman along with you? Have you no concept of your own limitations, Mando? You cannot possibly think you are leaving here alive with that bounty."

You breath out, arm shifting to any direction you see movement. The boy is held firm to your chest.

"Mando," you huff out. "we are severely out numbered here." You whisper, looking over you shoulder--your back to him.

"If you put the child down, I may be able to spare your life. Hell--even hers!" The man says, Mando has yet to utter a single word. Its when he shifts slightly and brings his arm back to you that you jump. He turns you around as his hand graces your lower back again. This time, his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt--holding you there.

"The kid is coming with us." Mando tuts.

"If truly care for the kid, or the woman, you'll put the bounty on the speeder and then we can discuss terms." The man says, you watch from behind Mando's shoulder. Your breath was shaky and uneven. It had been almost ten years since you had been in a confrontation to this extent. Your fingers still gripping your blaster at your side.

Mando begins to move to the right, towards the speeder droid. He grips your shirt and brings you along with him. He uses his body to shield you. He stops you next to the speeder, his large body hovering over you from behind as you struggle to catch your breath. You're still gripping the child tightly against your chest when you feel Mando's hands grip either side of your hips. Suddenly, you're being lifted into the air and being thrown into the speeder. You land on your side with a thump--and a groan--leaving your lips as you feel Mando's much large body land in the speeder next to you.

Blaster fire rings through the air as all hell breaks loose. You can't hear anything but yelling and the wirring of hot plasma going by virtually every part of your body. You feel Mando shifting back and forth as he tries to fight off as many as he can, but blaster fire keeps ricocheting off his beskar armor.

You look down at the boy under you, beads of your sweat rolling off and falling on his sleeping figure. In that moment--you can't hear anything but your own breathing. The only thing you can think of, is that you hope to maker he doesn't wake up.

You reach up to grab the blaster that fell from your hands when Mando tossed you here. Pulling the safety off, you throw your arm over the side of the speeder and begin rapidly firing. There's no rhyme or reason to your aiming, you just fire aimlessly into the crowd of hungry hunters. Mando's back was to you, both of you desperately trying to bring any kind of relief to the situation you had gotten yourselves into.

You screech when you feel a hand reach up over the side of speeder and grab your extended arm. The firm was tight, unwavering as a man began pulling your body over the side of the speeder. You reach down with your free hand and grab the blaster from the hand the man had ahold of. You grunt loudly as your stomach presses hard into the side of the speeder.

Mando is alerted by your grunts and does a double take when he sees your body pulled halfway over the speeder. He takes his free hand and grabs your ankle, holding you firmly in place.

The man quickly realizes he has bitten off more than he can chew when your trembling hand places the blaster to his temple. Sweat rolling off your face in blankets as you go to pull the trigger. In that moment, you realize you'd hadn't been watching your surroundings. You gasp when you see another man crawl into view. He has his blaster pointed directly at you and he takes the shot.

Red hot pain shoots through your entire body when the plasma ray makes direct contact with your left shoulder. Out of reflex, you pull the trigger on the blaster in your hand and the man drops to the ground. You retreat back up to the speeder and fall to your back, moaning loudly as you drop the blaster and slap your hand on your bloody shoulder.

"Sh-shit ah--" you gasp.

Mando looks back to see you laying on your back.

"Fuck--are you okay?" He asks roughly--blaster fire still filling almost all of your senses. You barely hear him.

You turn to look at him, his T-visor looking directly at you. You nod slowly, face wincing from the pain. You give him a look, pleading for him to get you the hell out of here. He responds by ordering the speeder droid to drive. When it doesn't respond, he points his blaster at it and whirls to live.

As the speeder starts to move, Mando continues firing into the crowd of hunters. He's now laying flat on his stomach next to you. His free hand moves to grab the child wrapped in blankets and lay him to your chest--your uninjured arm comes down to lay a hand on the baby--your breath coming out strained and uneven.

The speeder haults to a stop when blaster fire crushes through the droid, smoke pouring out in every direction.

For a moment, it gets silent as the remaining hunters carefully crowd around the speeder. Mando lays low, pulling his pulse rifle off his back and positioning on the side of the speeder.

Zzpt!

One hunter puffs into thin air.

Zzpt!

Another.

Mando loads his rifle one more time before a powerful voice rings through the silence.

"That's an impressive weapon, Mando!" He says. There's a brief moment of silence before Mando speaks.

"Here's what I'm gonna do, Karga," Mando says loudly. "I'm going to take the kid, and the woman, and walk to my ship. And you're going to let me do it."

"No, how about this," Karga says. "We're going to take the kid," His voice rings through your ears. "And if you try and stop us, we kill you and the woman, and strip your body for parts!"

Mando stays still for a moment before more blaster fire rings through the air. He takes his pulse rifle and electrocutes a man that comes close to you on your right side. Throwing his rife back of his shoulder, he boldly leans up as the hunters clamor to get closer. He extends his right arm and in a last-ditch attempt--you think---he starts throwing flames at the men to keep them away.

When he falls back down to the speeder, he's hovering over you and the boy, one hand on either side of your head. You look up and meet his T-visor. Your face is filthy and covered in sweat. Your hand holds the boy firm to your chest as your eyes shift back and forth rapidly--desperately trying to catch his eyes with yours. You hear a small coo from the bundle of blankets on your chest, and Mando's helm leaves your face for a moment to look down at the boy. Big brown eyes slowly opening to see the Mandalorian above him.

"He needs you." You whisper just loud enough for Mando to hear. His helmet comes back up to meet your gaze again and you smile weakly.

In that moment, both of you are quiet-- searching eachother for something. All you can hear is your own breathing again. The sounds of men shouting and blaster fire is muffled as you stare into the T-visor. His broad form still hovering over you. There's an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest as he stares at you--unwavering in this moment of peril.

Your eyes move past his helm for a moment to see streams of lights in the night sky. Mando catches your gaze moving from his and looks back. A group of Mandalorian's come soaring into the battle. Their jet packs all powering down in unison as they land on their feet and begin firing. You and Mando stay still, watching in what you can only describe as awe.

One larger Mandalorian comes to land next to the speeder.

"Get out of here. We'll hold them off." The large Mandalorian says as he rapidly fires his weapon into the crowd.

"You're going to have to relocate the covert" Mando says.

The larger Mandalorian turns to look at him for a moment and nod. "This is the way." He says.

Mando pauses before nodding. "This is the way."

There's a moment when they both look at eachother and nod again--in brotherhood--before Mando turns to look down at you.

"Can you run?" He asks.

You nod quickly and move your arm back to sit up. "Yes."

He looks at you for a moment before he jumps over the other side of the speeder. He kneels, but puts his arms out for you to jump down into. You keep the boy tight to your chest as Mando's hands hold you firmly in place. When he sees a chance, he grabs your arm and starts running towards the Razor Crest, dragging you with him. You stumble and struggle to keep up--your body lacking a certain amount of energy right now.

Nonetheless, you make it up the ramp of the Razor Crest, relief filling your lungs as Mando guides you to sit down on a crate against one of the hauls walls. The flood of relief also makes you nauseous as you lean your head back against the wall. Your breath was still uneven and shaky as you hold the boy to your chest. Your opposite arm limp and covered in blood. Just as Mando turns around to close the ramp, Karga jumps down and interrupts him. He holds his blaster to Mandos helm.

"I didn't want it to come to this Mando." He says. "You broke the code--and put the woman in danger!" He says.

Mando stays still, not saying a thing as Karga holds his blaster anxiously.

You're trying hard to focus, but you find yourself drifting into darkness. Your eyes blurring and becoming extremely hard to keep open. The nausea coming to make your head seem extremely heavy--and you realize what's happening. You're about to pass out.

You hear Karga's voice again, only it seems distant. Before you can do anything to stop it--your head falls hard to the wall, eyes shut.

#din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader

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arahith · 2 years

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Gnosticism and The Locked Tomb

This got real long, real quick so I’m putting it under a cut, but if you’re at all interested in how the beliefs of a heretical sect of early Christianity mirror the events of the Locked Tomb series (i.e. how John’s boner means he’s the demiurge), please, read on!!

(Heads up! Gnosticism, like much of early Christianity, has anti-semitism baked in! It’s still an interesting theological lens to critique The Locked Tomb through, but just be aware that if you wanna dig deeper you’re gonna have some yikes moments!)

(Also heads up! Spoilers for Nona the Ninth ahead!)

(Also Also heads up! I am not a scholar on early Christian heresies! Take what I say with a grain of salt!)

So what is Gnosticism?

Gnosticism holds that there is an original hidden spiritual God and a not so nice lesser God (the demiurge) who did the creation of the material world thing. Humans can gain salvation through personal spiritual knowledge of the secret divine within themselves (gnosis) and denial of the material world. The school of thought took hold in a bunch of religions ‘round the Mediterranean at about the time that Christianity was starting to get a foothold (100-200 CE-ish).

However we’re gonna focus in on Christian Gnosticism for this post because The Locked Tomb is chockablock full of references to Christianity in specific. For Gnostic Christians, the God of the Old Testament is the malevolent creator God and Jesus is a messenger from the OG God sent down into the material world to guide people to divine knowledge. This eventually got branded a heresy and the Gnostics got booted from the club. (For a deeper dive into Gnosticism’s cosmology check out the Apocryphon of John, also known as the Secret Book of John. It’s WILD.)

Ok, but what does that have to do with The Locked Tomb Series?

Well, if you look at Jod as, not the Jesus figure he paints himself to be, but rather as a gnostic Old Testament God figure and Nona as a Jesus figure, it has an awful fucking lot.

In both GtN and HtN we get a lot of comparisons between John and Christ. First off the whole resurrects-the-dead-and-is-the-savior-of-the-universe thing? Classic Jesus. “The God who became man, and the man who became God” (HtN pg. 24) title is incredibly similar to the titles “Son of God” and “Son of Man” which are sometimes used together to describe the duality of Christ. His description of how his friends (later his lyctors) came to him and stuck by him through the end of the world paints them as disciple figures. Hell, they’re even called “saints” (GtN pg. 405). All the times John tries to get them to eat together in HtN have a very Last Supper vibe (especially once he’s betrayed with a kiss).

But who’s the one shaping this narrative? John himself. He’s the one who crafted his titles, the titles of his “Saints”, the whole belief system of the empire was shaped by him. Before the Resurrection he certainly knows who Jesus was and afterwards he intentionally paints himself as this world’s Christ.*

John’s actions, however, paint him as a gnostic Old Testament God. For starters he made Alecto from “the dirt, my blood, my vomit, my bone.” (pg. 408) just like in Genesis 2:7: “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” He is vengeful, wiping the whole world clean with nukes just like the flood. Just look at Genesis 6:13 (The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them.) and tell me that isn’t 100% John about to destroy the entire solar system to get back at a few hundred escaping billionaires. Later he leads his chosen people to bloody victory after bloody victory just like God leading his people back out of Egypt into Canaan. In that vein Canaan House is the promised land for his lyctors, his most loved people.

In addition to all this John and his kingdom are described in very lush, materialistic, fleshy terms. From the intricate description of the doorways to the necromancer/cavaliear’s quarters (GtN pg. 96-97) to the pristine and showy regalia of Ianthe and Kiriona (NtN pg. 207) the emphasis is placed on the material instead of the spiritual. Even John’s proclivity to be the fandom bicycle fits into him being a demiurge figure. Sex was a huge no-no for gnostics. (The Acts of Thomas, another piece of gnostic apocrypha, has a whole story where it’s totally understandable to murder your girlfriend if she gets too horny.)

So if John is a demiurge figure instead of a Christ figure, who is Christ?

Nona! If you thought Muir was being a bit obvious with the John as Jesus signs, wait until you see how she writes Nona.

First off, if you’re talking humble, born-in-a-manger lifestyles, Nona’s got that. Pyrrha, Palamedes, and Camilla are constantly working their asses off to find enough food to eat. Their idea of splurging, after selling months’ worth of hoarded cigarettes, is some stale meat-filled pastries (NtN pg. 104).

Nona is also held up as an apocalyptic savior figure by those around her. Blood of Eden sees her as a weapon, their own personal lyctor, who will swing the war in their favor and bring down the end of the empire. In early Christianity, Jesus’s proclamation that he would be back to save them and rain down destruction on those who persecute them was taken to mean he would be back literally any day now. “The stars of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be shaken. And then shall they see the Son of man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.”(Mark 13:25-26) and “But of that day and that hour knoweth no man” (Mark 13:32). For the first couple of centuries of Christianity everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting for the apocalypse and imminent salvation just like the Blood of Eden and their creeping deadline for results from Nona (NtN pg.155).

One of Nona’s defining characteristics is her innocence. She’s 6 months old and a clean slate before that. She’s only ever had 3 tantrums and even in the one we see, she’s not moved by any sinister motives, just pure animal fear and anger (NtN pg. 275). Jesus is (usually) seen as pure and sinless, a blameless sacrificial lamb for the sins of mankind.

Perhaps most obviously, Nona dies and is placed in the tomb, only to rise again.**

But what makes her a gnostic figure rather than a standard Christ figure is how Alecto, how knowledge of the divine, was in her all along and she only needed to remember to transcend herself and become something more.

Ok, but what does this mean?

I don’t know!! But isn’t it interesting??

For one thing the series isn’t over. Things may happen that completely overturn this analysis in AtN. And for another thing Muir is a very good writer. It’s not as simple as antagonist-shaped peg fits into demiurge-shaped hole. It’s not a moralizing tale where all materiality is bad and all spirituality is good. John is a sympathetic and loving character in addition to being an absolute fucknugget. Nona is too comfortable in her innocence instead of truly owning up to the consequences of her actions. NtN doesn’t paint Nona’s moment of gnosis (her return to Alecto) as a wholly good thing. It recognizes what is lost and cherishes it. Divine knowledge is at best a bittersweet and profoundly uncanny thing. But that’s what’s so good about the books: They’re complicated.

However, given her proclivity to reference biblical sources, I think it’s a worthwhile activity to investigate the text with more obscure Christian philosophies in mind. If nothing else, it’s really fun.

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* An argument could be made that he is a failed Christ figure instead of just a false Christ figure. The line on page 471 in NtN “For she so loved the world that she had given them John” is almost word for word John 3:16 and is not influenced by him at all.

** While not evidence of Nona being a gnostic Christ figure, Muir’s mirroring of famous depictions of the passion of Jesus in those final scenes down in the depths of the Ninth is wicked clever. It’s not an exact match in posture to a traditional Pietà (depiction of Mary cradling the dead Christ) but Pyrrha carrying Nona down from the megatruck (NtN pg. 443-459) and then her and Paul talking to Nona while she lay by the heater (NtnN pg. 459-462) very strongly call up the Pietà vibe (Fig. 1, Pietà by Titian, 1576). But the bit where she’s carried “Kiriona’s arms beneath her shoulders, Pyrrha’s beneath her hips.” (NtN pg. 470) is exactly the way the Deposition (taking Jesus off the cross) is always depicted. (Fig. 2, The Deposition by Michelangelo, 1555)

*** Ok, I know there isn’t anything this references back to in the body of the post, but you’re still reading, which means you’re still interested. If apocrypha, heresies, and the history of the bible interest you (or you just want to bone up on all these bible references before Alecto comes out) then you should check out Apocrypals! It’s a podcast where 2 non-believers read through the bible and try not to be jerks about it. Not only is it incredibly engaging, it’s also funny as fuck and one of my fav podcasts ever.

#the locked tomb #Nona the Ninth #nona spoilers #gnostism #gideon the ninth #im sorry this got so long im just very excitable

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