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#the creed
salome-c · 1 year
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The Mandalorian Incorrect quotes.
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dindjarindiaries · 7 months
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Only hot girls (gender neutral) tear up when Din Djarin enters the Living Waters
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peoplefromheaven · 5 months
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The living waters of Mandalore are beautiful
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Also, like Mandos who are part of the children of the watch don’t take their helmets off ever.
Does that mean Paz and the mother of his kid did it Mormon style, through a glory hole in the sheet?
Is there some mando sex booth system for procreation? 🤔🤔
(This is why I bend the rules in my fanfic on the creed 😂)
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The Promise
You and Din reunite after a long time apart
Part 1
You had just started to head back from town as the sun started to set. It was a little later than you'd liked but Mr Bonnet had made you work for the discount, you had come out victorious of course but you did have to promise him a dance, which did surprise you. You were certain he wasn't into anything like that but he had asked for it so you agreed.
Swapping your basket from your left arm to your right you headed up the hill towards the brothel, you did stop a few times to pick a flower or two but the Madame wouldn't know. She had far too many girls to take care of and you didn't need the care that the younger ones did.
You didn't know if anyone would want you anyway, thanks to your knight in shining armour. It was a blessing and a curse really. Everyone knew you were his girl, everyone respected that but the odd passerby who didn't know were usually deterred by the price. Sometimes to help out you agreed to go lower for the Madame but you both were a little afraid of what Din may do. He could swing by any moment and if you were busy he would interrupt. He had done it before. The problem was now you weren't making as much money so you had to try and do little side jobs such as mending stockings or sheets for the girls, sometimes even keeping the books when John was hungover but you weren't meant to tell anyone that.
Your mother, bless her had been a seamstress before she died. She had taught you a few things but you were only a child when it happened. Daddy was the one who really taught you the important things, you could hunt and read and shoot, things a girl shouldn't bother with. It had been hard when he died too. It was after the funeral (you had been a whore, secretly, for a few months earning a lot for being pure and then earning more for pretending) when it was hard to cope, having to whore to keep food on the table and even then you were struggling. You had told the Madame and that's when she told you to sell the house and live with her. Become a full time whore.
Was there more to life? You lived in America the land of the free, so why did you feel trapped? Why did you get choked up thinking of the future? Did you have a future whoring? Probably not. There wasn't a lot of old whores.
Just as you came to the peak of the hill you saw the brothel, the building was away from the town as it should be but it was bright and colourful and looked new despite being older than the church. There were a few horses by the stables and some carts near, the tavern must be delivering some alcohol. The scene infront of you was ethereal. The sky was a swirl of colours, the low sun causing a large amount of deep orange and reds that blended with the blue to make purples and pinks. The clouds were a light peach and, like the surrounding trees, caught bits of each colour.
If you could capture this, like they could capture wealthy families on those photograph machines, you would. You wanted to hang it up in your room, maybe on the ceiling so you could look at it before you fell to sleep.
Movement pulled your captive stare. Someone was waving at you. Squinting, you made out the familiar hat and worn jacket. Your man was here. As if the day wasn't perfect before, you now had Din waiting for you. A smile split your face and you used your left hand to raise your skirt so you could run down the hill towards him.
As you got closer you could make out the sound of his laugh, he 'reluctantly' walked towards you and extended his arms. Crashing into him, dropping some of the items you had lovingly purchased, you felt at peace. The worries from before seemed to ebb, you were safe. He easily engulfed you in his arms and pressed a kiss ontop of your hair.
"Why is it that you're always making me wait?" He joked, pulling back to see your face.
You scrunched your nose playfully and had to tiptoe, even with heels on, to peck his lips teasingly, "am I not worth it?"
"Not if you kiss me like that." He tried to capture your lips but you turned your head to the side dramatically gasping.
"Now, sir, if I am not worth your time I can get you another girl." You left his embrace, swaying your hips as you circled him, "I'm sure we have someone more suitable."
He licked his lips and let out a chuckle playing along. "I wonder why I'm paying a fortune to keep you away from the other men just for you to treat me like this."
You paused midstep, eyeing him up and down. Maybe it was the last embers of light haloing him or the fact that you were just drunk off seeing him but you felt brave. "There's rumours you know."
He tilted his head, actually confused, "Rumours?"
"Well why else-" the confidence you had felt was draining a little but the genuine curiosity in his eyes made you continue. "Why else would you pay so much?"
Something flashed behind his eyes and you were about to take back what you said when he smiled. "You know why."
'Do I?' You had wanted to ask that. 'Do I know? You haven't ever said it. Will you say it? Or would that destroy the bubble we live in?'
You used your best smoulder and just gave him a cheeky wink, "Well sir-"
A gurgling noise erupted from behind Din. It was high-pitched and loud making you both visibly jolt. He turned to his rucksack, huh that was a little strange. Din usually left his stuff with Razor in the stables.
Din cursed under his breath before walking towards the bag and putting both hands in. He then pulled them out and revealed a child.
"Din? What in God's name are you doing with that baby?" You knew he was kind hearted and wouldn't hurt the child but he was still a bounty hunter. He hunted and killed people for a living, maybe this was some sort of bait?
He looked a little lost, awkwardly holding a delicate child. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you to find out like this. Can we go somewhere and I'll explain?"
You sort of stood there just staring, puzzled, at him before you sighed and nodded. "If the Madame knows you're here she knows I'm with you. Did you check in?" he nodded. "then we can go to the park or just sit on some grass near a lantern? I, uh I don't think it's wise bringing a baby in there. Hell even the stables would be a better choice."
He let out a small huff of a laugh. "I promise its not what you think."
You full on giggled at that. "Din, I do not know what I think."
..
You both sat underneath the furthest streetlamp from town. There were small flowers and the grass was soft, with the low lighting this would be an ideal date. If you could date of course.
"His names Grogu." Din told you.
"Gro-gu?" You frowned, that's certainly a strange name. "And where's he from?"
"Mexico, I think. He's being hunted. Some sort of deal gone wrong." He shrugged. "He has got the biggest bounty on his head."
You looked at the child in question, his skin was tanned like Din's and his dark hair wisped at both sides of his head making him look like he had elf ears. His big dark eyes stared right back at you and he spoke gibberish really loudly.
"Patuu to you too." You held his small hand and offered a flower to him with your other. Immediately you realised it was a bad idea as he tried to eat it. Din was quick to stop him. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"You're fine, he tries to eat everything."
You both sat in an awkward silence watching the baby waddle around, he could half walk. He followed a firefly, falling onto his bum and rolling in the grass letting out a shrill giggle.
"So he has a big bounty on his head." Din repeated slowly, you nodded watching him out of the corner of your eye. Din stared right at you before speaking again, "do you know anywhere safe I can hide him?"
"What do you mean?" You met his gaze. He never asked you for help before, you wanted to give him good advice but how far would he have to go to truly be safe?
"Well, where would be the last place you'd look for me?"
"If I was hunting you?" You raised a brow, looking him up and down. "You're not safe here."
"I know, but I was passing through. It'd be stupid to not see my girl." Your heart fluttered a little bit at that. He usually called you Sweetness which could be read just as a nickname but claiming you were his girl always made you flutter.
"Din don't call me that and expect me to be able to think about hunting you." You fiddled with a hem on your skirts. You could practically feel the smug smile he was wearing. "From what little you've said when we're in bed, my first look would probably be.... Hmm maybe I'd try to find an Indian tribe."
"Why's that?" He placed an elbow on his knee watching your mind work.
"Your hunting skills are amazing, I think you learned with a tribe or a clan." You thought hard. "Man-mandoa?"
He smirked, "Thats my smart girl, it's not an Indian tribe but its close."
"So avoid your tribe then, maybe find somewhere cold, I know you like the heat."
The baby had settled for sitting looking at the stars, you had realised that you hadn't been watching him. Hopefully Din had.
"I guess too you can't buy bullets or supplies at the same shops. You'd have to mix them up, maybe even get a new coat and a new horse. Razor is pretty distinct." Naturally your eyes were drawn back to Din, he was resting his chin on his knuckles, his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. "Din Djarin you put those 'I'm gonna fuck you' eyes away."
His gaze intensified, "but what if I am? Its turning me on, you hunting me."
"I would never be able to catch you and you know it."
"I wouldn't run from you." He spoke plainly.
"And why not?" You assumed he was joking with you.
"I couldn't." His eyes flickered to Grogu every so often but they remained mostly on you. "Its harder and harder to leave each time."
"Why do you?" You whispered, half hoping he missed it, half hoping he didn't.
"I don't know." He reached over and pulled your hand from your skirt. "If you asked I'd take you. It would be selfish because my world ain't pretty and you deserve more than me. But I'd take you."
You wished so badly to go with him, but realistically it was a bad idea. "How would it work?"
"I-I don't know." He shook his head. "Truthfully I don't know. I take everything I can get when I can because I know it wouldn't work." He sighed, looking away with glossy eyes. "but I want it to."
Nodding you agreed, "I do too."
"You do?" The relief on his face made your eyes water, did he not know? Surely he knew. "Maybe we go to a town far away and I'll do odd jobs, I'll work at a bar or I'll be a farmhand. You say the word and we'll go."
You bit your lip as tears formed, "when would-"
There was a male voice shouting in the distance and the sound of gunfire. The child jolted and his face crumpled. He was thrust into your hands by Din as he pulled the pistol from his belt.
"Go to the brothel, I'll meet you in a minute."
You nodded and both separated.
..
They were looking for the child and therefore Din, Mr Stubbs had told them where to go which was indeed the brothel to see you and his thanks was a bullet to the foot. These guys were nasty, but luckily Din was able to deal with them quickly. You had hid with the child in the stables, it was easy to disguise his cries for whines.
"I have to go." He spoke, his forehead touching yours, defeated. "I'll lead them away from here. You should stay low. Here-" He handed you some money. "Get a train to the next town for a little bit."
"Din I have money, you'll need this for the baby." Grogu had settled, he wasn't asleep but he was dozing in Din's rucksack, he had filled it with just blankets to make it comfy and told you he wore it on his front which made for a funny image.
He shook his head, "I can make money."
"You really gonna go on a hunt with this guy in your arms?" He sighed. You pulled away and handed him some of the oils and silks you'd brought that day. "They'll fetch a mighty fine price. I-I also got you a gift, but I think maybe that'll fetch a fine price too."
Din frowned. "Sweetness, I told you to stop spending your money on me."
"I will when you do the same." You poked his chest, "give me a minute, I've hidden it in my mattress." You left him to go to your quaters. He hadn't been in there, no men were allowed in really. It was the only room in the whole building that women had the power. Din stood awkwardly awaiting you, feeling uneasy already. He did not know how he'd survive again being away, and it would have to be a longer trip. He didn't know when he'd next see you and it made his stomach ache. Sometimes he took really shitty jobs to stay near your small town and other times he'd turn down high end jobs for the same reason. He knew he was an idiot but he couldn't help himself.
You came back quickly handing him a small bundle. It was a purple handkerchief tied together making a small pouch.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time to gift wrap." Your cheeks were hot.
"Sweetness, you could give me a toad and as long as its wrapped in your underwear I would praise Jesus."
You rolled your eyes, "always making it lewd."
"You know what I meant." Yes, you did. He meant that anything you gave him was a gift and would be cherished. He went to pull at the knot and you squealed.
"Don't open it infront of me!"
"Why not?" His brows pulled, normally if you handed him a gift he could, you two usually didn't do gifts but when you did it was common to just open it. You both got giddy, like children.
You sighed, "Okay but if you don't like it please pretend you do."
He rolled his eyes before opening the handkerchief. Inside was a plain silver ring and a pair of spurs. The spurs had the same blue of your necklace and earring set he had previously gifted.
"Sweetness?" He looked up from the gift in shock. "Where did you get the money to buy these?"
"I'm good at saving." You chuckled, "I saw some spurs and thought if you're ever in a tough spot with someone it would be a handy trade and when I was in the shop I saw a few different rings and thought why not? You treat me like a queen, I wanna do the same."
"You deserve it." He placed a hand on your cheek and you leaned into the touch. It didn't matter that his hands were rough or smelled like gunpowder. "All the gifts and jewels and dresses and everything."
"I don't want all that, I just want you." You muttered the last part.
"I am coming back I promise you." He held your other cheek with his other hand and kissed you slowly, savouring the taste.
Your hands found one elbow and then one hip, holding onto him as tightly as he held you. You pulled him closer, opening your mouth to deepen the kiss. He let out a small grunt and you a shaky breath, before he moaned loudly. "Hmmm, I have to go." He kissed you again. "I have to go." this time he spoke it quieter. You tried to pull away but his arms kept you where you was. "Don't leave, not yet."
His words confused you until you realised he wasn't talking to you but himself. He was trying to convince himself to leave. You had brought the child back up to the big room, no one was occuping it and it was easy to tell people not to disturb whilst Din was here. So when he came storming in checking if you were alright he hadn't let you go far. Now it seemed he was outright refusing to listen to logic. He was not leaving. You knew it and so did he. A selfish part of you liked that he was staying, liked that he found it as hard as you did when you parted.
"Din," You uttered, looking up as he made his way leasurely down your neck. His mouth leaving a trail of kisses and marks. He was claiming you and you knew it. No patron was really meant to leave marks, it caused complications, you'd had this discussion before but ever since he seemed to do it more often, to prove to the world you were his and his alone.
He made his way back up to your lips and let out a content sigh before pulling back and taking you in. His eyes were dazed and his lips red, he must've liked what he saw because a goofy smile appeared on his face. "I've had an idea."
You raised a brow, "be careful, that's dangerous."
He kissed you again. "When I come back I'm gonna marry you."
You choked on nothing and blinked twice until the words sunk in. "Was-was that a proposal?"
"Well, we did exchange a ring earlier." He winked.
"Din, don't be playing with me, you know I can't-"
"I don't care." He interrupted you. "I know the Madame will hate me and I don't know how we'll work it, I don't know if it is the best idea I've had or the stupidest but I know I am coming back and I am marrying you. Well, that is, if you'll take me."
You were already in his arms but somehow jumped further into them, and he caught you, legs dangling. "Of course, I'll marry you, you idiot."
"Yeah?"
"Yes." You kissed his cheek because that's what you could reach. "I'm gonna be in so much trouble." You giggled.
"I'll handle everything." He promised. "I'll speak to the Madame, whatever money she'll claim is hers I'll give it."
"So you're buying a wife?" You joked, kissing him again. "There's worse ways to get a women."
"I've had my eye on this one for a while now." He winked, leaning down to kiss you again.
Din did not leave until the early hours of the morning, he left after you had fallen asleep. It was as hard as he imagined leaving a warm bed with the love of his life soundly sleeping in his arms but he had a promise to fulfill. He would only marry you when it was safe to do so. The quicker he left the quicker he could return.
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wonderlandsakura · 1 year
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Mandalorian season 3 episode 2 spoilers ahead
THE SYMBOLISM OF THE MYTHOSAUR SCENE OMG
Our gorgeous, pathetic, unwilling baby (Din, not Grogu) slips and falls all the way down the deep end (like he did into becoming the Mand'alor, he took a few steps in and then got completely sucked into it, omg) and falls unconscious (cause you can't let him know he's the chosen one, he'll completely freak out and run away), the poor dear.
The unconscious part is also potentially symbolic of him not knowing what he's doing, not knowing how much of a Mand'alor he is being, and plainly just not knowing what he's doing, btw.
Anyway, Bo-Katan (who is not unconscious and also actually knows what she's doing and how to lead as a Mand'alor and that Din is super the chosen one) comes down to get him and carry him up to the surface (cause gosh is he going to need help, and she's the most uniquely qualified for the job) ...
And they (Bo-Katan) see a mythosaur.
THEY SEE A FUCKING MYTHOSAUR.
AND YOU KNOW WHAT??!!
The mythosaur cracks open it's eye to look at them.
LIKE IT'S WORRIED ABOUT THEM (din), LIKE IT'S GIVING THEM (din) IT'S BLESSING, LIKE THEY (din) ARE NOT SOMETHING BENEATH IT, LIKE THEY (din) ARE WORTH IT'S ATTENTION
IT'S FUCKING AMAZING
(btw, it's also saying "yes I'm real Bo-Katan, so please help the pathetic mess that is our Mand'alor out, cause yes, he does actually deserve the title, and is in fact the actual chosen one, come to bring a new age your people, cause I do actually exist and approve of the idiot, thank you very much")
So yeah.
Also the fact that Din's super strict Creed is actually called the Way of the Mand'alor??? And he actually follows it super strictly, like without it he's nothing??? And only breaks it for the benefit of Children, which in Mandalorians Creed "are the Future"?????
LIKE HOW MUCH MORE FORESHADOWING DO YOU WANT TO PUT INTO THIS DUDE (it's like wolf wolf, son of wolf, if you know what I'm talking about)
More importantly, HOW MUCH MORE INFORMATION DOES HE NEED BEFORE HE REALISES HOW MUCH OF A NIGH PERFECT MANDALORIAN HE IS????
Like.
1) Way of the Mand'alor
2) Children are important above all else
3) full beskar armor (which is, btw unpainted, a blank slate, a new age, it's perfect!) (1st tenant of Creed)
4) incredibly skilled as a warrior/hunter/provider, is an actual beroya, for his tribe and people, even those who are practically strangers to him (Bo-Katan, Boba) (5th tenant)
5) respected by the head clans of the 3 factions (they would come if he called them, and since he's the Mand'alor, that's the 6th tenant for them)
6) willing to listen, respect, and learn about the creed and history of those who follow different ways (very good, since Mandalorian society previously collapsed partially because they were arguing over whose creed was the best)
7) Would fight, kill, go out of his comfort zone, and even violate his creed for his family (Grogu) (3rd tenant)
8) Can speak not just Mandalorian, but also a variety of other languages, including at least one form of sign (very useful for communicating with his scattered people (2nd tenant)
9) literally teaching Grogu about mandalorian culture now that he knows he accepts him as family in return (4th tenant)
10) follows the resol'nare (the 6 tenants) in his every action, seemingly without having to think about it
11) being re-baptised in the living waters (like Jesus) (btw the symbolism of being reborn again as he is being denoted as the person who will bring a new age)
12) the Fucking Mythosaur
Like Din? Get some self-esteem. And self-care while you're at it.
Anyway I can't wait till Saturday (today's a Thursday for future readers and those across the world) when I can continue watching Din stumble (or fall) deep deep deep into Mand'alor-hood unwillingly and unknowingly
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after8icecream · 1 year
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Season 3 Episodio 4 : The Foundling
Unkown source
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She’s lovely.
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mzcain27 · 9 months
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I think game studios should just release their character creators online. For the times when I don’t wanna play the whole game, just the lil dress up part
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iftadwascool · 3 months
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this is, honest to god, one of the funniest ads ive seen in a long time.
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creepymutelilbugger · 6 months
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blumineck · 9 months
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This is dumb, but I had fun making it!
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senatushq · 9 months
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NAME. Assan AGE & BIRTH DATE. April 1st, 1092 & 931 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Demigod ( Tiefling ) ABILITIES. Voice Casting & Telepathy OCCUPATION. Unemployed FACE CLAIM. Josh Heuston
biography
“Bodur.” Came the familiar call of the child’s father, about the fishing hut the man wandered as the lazy boy laid atop the thatched roof with his gaze cast towards the sky.
“Bodur!” This time, more forceful. Of Bodur’s many chores, there was nothing he hated quite like the hours he’d spend on the water with his father. Heaving nets, picking fish, gutting them and cleaning them at the day’s end. It pricked his fingers, and wore on his nerves when his father would try to prompt him to speak - ultimately getting frustrated with his son when no words would come from him. 
The mortal man would drink through the day and he’d regale Bodur with stories about the woman he’d fallen in love with. 
“Bodur!” From the edge of the roof, the boy peered over the side of the hut with gray, narrowed eyes. He was different from the other children, he’d been born with markings around his mouth and across his tongue. His father used to tell him that his words were probably cursed, that like his mother everything that fell from his tongue would be an inevitable lie. 
He blamed her, and he blamed the man who’d blown through the town and left her with the lazy scourge of a child. 
Night wore on and when his father returned alone, his temper was familiar as he came upon Bodur asleep among the livestock. Hiding there as he often did before scrawny limbs were dragged from the place where Bodur had just been trying to have a rest. The stench of the other was unbearable, but compared to the man’s temper it was middling. With a word, Bodue put an end to the chores, to the violence, and to the weeping tales of his adulterous mother.
“Stop!” Came the cry, and with a word one life was changed while another was ended. It tore through Bodur’s throat, ripped apart his mouth and echoed in his father’s chest, where his heart stopped completely. 
The orphanage had expectations of its own, the markings around Bodur’s mouth were peculiar, and it made him an easy target for those who heard about the mysterious circumstances that surrounded his arrival. The scars around his mouth and the distant look in the child’s gray eyes. Once more chores were expected of him, Bodur had to contribute just as everyone else did, they wanted him to assist in meal preparation, to sweep stairs and launder clothes. An assortment of hard, arduous tasks that Bodur largely managed to avoid altogether. They’d find him buried in the larder, his mouth full of bread, or asleep in the attic curled up near the window. Discipline would follow but he found it preferable to labour, and still, Bodur remained silent. Afraid of what might happen if he spoke again. 
When Grandmaster Hasan-i Sabbah arrived, escorted by figures bathed in shadows, the orphanage fell silent. Bodur watched with interest as the adults who’d lorded power over the children were brought to their knees without so much as a word. They looked at the Grandmaster and his agents with an absolute reverence that Bodur inherently envied. There was a presence that came with each of them, one in particular called to him, with every step they took a chill filtered through the air. Frost etched around his feet, and though his features were obscured by a hood, Bodur found himself inching closer from his hiding place to try and get a better look.
“Him?” Came the surprise, “The yakka child is of nothing significant, he’s a lazy creature with no motivation whatsoever. Surely you-” Silence followed before an unheard understanding was met, stealthy, but not stealthy enough to evade the grandmaster, Bodur was seized and dragged forward. A cold hand curled around his chin as Bodur’s face was tilted to meet the gaze of the creature that seemed to breathe the heart of winter into the room. It was then that Bodur saw him, he seemed to be inspecting the curious markings around 
“His name?” Came the ask,
“The yakka boy came to us without one.”
“Your name?” The grandmaster interceded as he stood behind the cold, cloaked man. 
“He does not speak.”
As the pair of men studied him, Bodur studied them. He saw now the point to the cold man’s ears, and felt this inherent symmetry between them. 
“Not a demon,” the cold creature corrected, “a tiefling.” 
Through an unseen door the group tugged Bodur along, the grandmaster at the epicentre as the cold creature led them through a shadowed wood that the boy was unaccustomed to. There he felt a sort of presence that was entirely unfamiliar, every path looked the same, there existed a fog so dense that Bodur thought it might consume him. However the cold creature never waivered, and when they emerged, it was at the site that would be his home for many years to come. 
Hasan-i Sabbah, the irreverent Old Man in the Mountain who controlled much of the Eastern world from his mountain citadel of Alamaut. He was kinder than later writings would make him out to be, fanatical in his desires, he imbued these same practices into those who served him. The cold creature was his right hand, Echor, was what Bodur would come to call him. Mentor to the lazy child that had only ever been drawn along by the whims of others.
“What is your name?” Echor would ask but Bodur would only remain silent, “Speak.” He’d say. “Say something. Anything.” Still, Bodur refused. “Assan.” Echor said, “That’s what I’ll call you, because that’s what I’ll make you.”
“Where other men blindly follow the truth, Remember, nothing is true. Where other men are limited by morality or law, Remember, everything is permitted. We work in the dark to serve the light.”
In time, Assan learned how to remain undetected, how to stalk and observe and gather intelligence without ever revealing himself. He grew from boy to man and under Echor’s tutelage the markings around his mouth faded, but the scars remained. The cold creature that preceded death, the mute hashashin that faded into the ranks of Hasan-i Sabbah’s fabled militant arm. In one instant he was the faithful mute who served a king for years, in the next he was the grandmaster’s will - a knife through the spine. A smiling merchant peddling wares, there in one moment then gone in the next, his only signature a fatal injury to a vital organ. 
In time Echor told him of his own past, an aimless exile whose crime had been falling in love with the wrong person. He’d been lost and directionless, hunted by an organisation that had plagued their kind since time immemorial. The Eye, Echor called them, and in the hollow of the fey’s mind, Assan repeated the name. Years spent together and only then did the eladrin learn that the tiefling had been telepathic all along. Assan told him the story of his father and how he came to the orphanage, confided that he could speak, but he was afraid. 
Coaxed into trying with lesser intention, Assan’s power could only influence creatures, not things. The smaller or weaker the less impactful. As a child voice casting on a grown man that was easily four times his size had been effective, but disastrous. A muscle that could groan and ache when overworked, Echor had Assan practice on small beasts, then larger ones, and eventually people. The title of grandmaster traded hands from one to another, but still the pair served.
“Sleep.” Assan would breathe against the ears of guards, and when The Eye caught up with Echor once more, Assan screamed. “Die.”
Centuries passed in this fashion, Assan took on mentees of his own, though the tiefling could not deny his nature. While they trained, he found creative ways to instil lessons within them… All while finding a place to rest his eyes for a while. They’d be tasked with sneaking into larders while remaining completely undetected, no small feat considering Alamaut was a fortress of security built on the foundations of subterfuge and spycraft. He’d hide somewhere and sleep while they were told to try and steal a pair of bells that the man had fastened to his belt. A lesson Echor had taught him first. 
Countless lives taken, the grandmaster’s will, the motivation behind his blade, regimes changed as the years turned, and it was then that Assan learned that nothing was permanent - not even for immortals like himself. Mongolians conquered the citadel and Echor along with countless others died defending it. 
A blade for hire, a tiefling without any real purpose. He’d lived long enough to know the failings of his former life, death for a fanatical cause but that was all that he had ever really known. Assan filtered from one place to the next, doing what jobs he needed to do in order to live the sort of lazy but comfortable life he’d always aspired towards. Contracted to slay an outlaw and his accompaniment, it was with a blade to the man named Robin’s throat that he was convinced to put it aside. 
Assan once believed that living in the darkness was a means of serving a higher good, of working towards the light but from one grandmaster to the next they served their own self interests and if there was goodness in this world he felt it had died with Echor. Robin gave him a new creed to live by: steal from the rich, give to the poor. 
It suited his own interests, because there were few expectations from day to day, he could sleep in trees while the merrymen toiled below, eat more than his fair share and use his voice casting to turn hunters the other direction. Institutions and monarchies controlled everything, Robin taught him this, the only real servitude in this world was imposed on the people without them even realising. 
Anarchy suited the assassin well, built upon the juxtaposition of great ambition but little motivation, Assan always found himself following others. He’d set the fire or cut down the general or hunter or noble or emissary or dignitary - but he never sought these things out himself. Instead Assan would end up being recruited behind one cause or another, there was one society that he remained fixed against: The Eye. Their hand was in the spines of the crusaders that he’d once fought against, within the Mongols that had breached Alamaut, and remained spread throughout the known world. 
In Rome Assan found himself at the turn of Titania’s rule, the fabled queen of the fairy court, who’d once exiled Echor and started the series of events that had changed the name of Bodur to Assan. There was a cause here that interested him, but more than that there were thoughts and whispers that were quietly pervading his mind. They came upon him while he slept and while he woke, tapping at the window, knocking at the door. Whatever had changed with the queen’s departure had left him exposed to powers that Assan did not understand: and vulnerable in ways he had yet to realise.
personality
+ observant, conscientious, curious – gluttonous, greedy, lazy
played by shane. est. she/her.
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demigoddessqueens · 1 month
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Happy 2,068th to when we should totally just stab Caesar!! Grab a knife with your bestie!
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eleonorpiteira · 6 months
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Weight of a Feather, Assassin's Creed: Origins fanart, watercolour and acrylic gouache on hot press paper, 17.8 x 25.4 cm
This is one of those that I don't care if no one likes it, or if there are obvious mistakes/things that don't make sense, I'm proud of myself for managing to do it traditionally and that's that. It's for no one but me, I'm just sharing it with you :)
I started it in 2021, even began to paint it, but burnout is a bitch and I couldn't finish it then. Recently I decided to see if I could complete it traditionally and this is the result! It was inspired by a screenshot I took where Bayek's face is entirely in shadow. I then added elements that relate to Ma'at, the goddess of truth and justice, and the ceremony of the Weighing of the Heart, where she'd weigh a dead person's heart against her ostrich feather, to see if they were worthy of going on to the Field of Reeds (a sort of paradise). (Egyptologists don't @ me 😭)
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