#and I think with age and maturity he would be able to separate the ability from his family more and he'd feel less self-conscious about it

[anto-pops]

Do you think Ominis would feel different about being a parselmouth if he knew MC had a huge parseltongue kink? Like dirty talk but snakey talk?

Oh for sure, but I imagine he would be extremely conflicted about it.

On one hand he's always associated being a Parselmouth with Salazar Slytherin and his fucked up legacy, which he wants no part of. I remember he outright says in the Scriptorium that he "hasn't spoken it in ages" which is telling enough. But on the other hand, MC would be viewing it as something positive and completely unrelated to Salazar Slytherin which would make him draw pause. Then he would come to process why MC likes it, and he would have to hit pause again. Suddenly there's an upside to being able to speak to snakes, but I think he would still be self-conscious about it at first (understandably)

At the end of the day, I believe that Ominis being who he is means he would still dislike having such a prominent ability that ties him to Salazar's bloodline. He's too critical about his family to suddenly be okay with it. He would, however, be more open and willing to speaking Parseltongue with MC after getting their honest input and doing some reflection and contemplating of his own.

[pluckyredhead]

I am still reading my way through the Fourth World! Last time I talked about all the stuff published in the 70s; now let's talk about the 80s.

Kirby:

New Gods #12: In 1984, DC reprinted Kirby's original New Gods run and threw in an extra issue (not to be confused with Gerry Conway's New Gods #12) so that Kirby could finish the story. This was partially DC being nice and trying to give an aging Kirby money, and partially not because they refused to let him produce the ending he wanted, which was Orion and Darkseid both dying. After a couple scrapped versions, we got this, in which Orion goes down in a hail of laser fire. It's a real bummer, but at least he's extremely homoerotic with his best buddy Lightray first? (Oh, they're getting a whole separate post, just you wait.)

The Hunger Dogs: This "graphic novel" (it's only 64 pages but back then that counted) came out a year later and was the "conclusion" to the Fourth World saga. Once again DC and Kirby butted heads because Kirby really wanted to kill everyone and DC was like "But our IP!!!" In the final version, only supporting characters Himon and Esak die, which is sad but not going to do any damage to DC's bottom line.

It turns out Orion is not dead despite being riddled with holes (there's an intriguing suggestion that he has some kind of healing ability because he possesses the Life Equation, which like everything else in this book is presented with zero context or explanation), which is great because it gives him an opportunity to be homoerotic with Lightray again, although he has also been given an Obligatory Heterosexual Love Interest, Himon's daughter Bekka.

Anyway this book is baffling. Highfather blows up New Genesis (everyone survives) to taunt Darkseid, who is overthrown by the downtrodden masses of Apokalips. There's some shouting about the dangers of technology and maybe some anti-Cold War rhetoric about stockpiling weapons, but it's all so hysterically overblown - Kirby at his most grandiose - that it's nearly impossible to parse beyond "war bad." I do appreciate that Orion is able to break free of his rage and death wish and just...leave Darkseid behind, but the fact that he's emotionally mature enough to do that now comes pretty much out of nowhere. The art is extremely powerful, at least.

My final thought is that Kirby clearly gleefully ignored everything Englehart, Conway, et al. did and I love that for him.

Super Powers: Darkseid fights the Justice League. This was a comic created to sell a toy line and you can really, really tell.

Post-Kirby:

Legends: I've read this before, but it's great. If you like pre-Flashpoint DC, you should definitely read this, which introduces Amanda Waller and the Suicide Squad, sets up the JLI, and brings Wonder Woman into the post-Crisis DCU. Neither Orion nor Scott are present but this (along with the Happyland issue of the original Forever People) really makes the case for why Glorious Godfrey is one of Kirby's best and scariest Fourth World creations. And I will never complain about John Byrne art.

Forever People (1988): Blecch. It's definitely arrogant to read something and think "I know for certain that Jack Kirby, a man I never met who died when I was a child, would have hated this" but like. I'm right. And it's obvious from the very first page.

Basically, at the end of Kirby's series, the FP were marooned on a random, idyllic planet somewhere with no hope of getting home, so they embraced it as their new, hopeful future. This catches up with them years later, with Serifan (the sweet young kid) drooling and raving alone in the woods, Vykin (the only Black character) dead (he gets better), and the rest of them...living in yuppie paradise? Apparently the planet they ended up on was populated (missing the point) with "primitive" people (racist) so they decided to use Mother Box to forcibly "evolve" the people (SO RACIST) and were able to create...modern-day America? Literally why would they even do that, they're from New Genesis. Mark is mayor and married with kids, and Big Bear and Beautiful Dreamer are married to each other with a baby on the way.

Anyway a nebulous villain/evil force called "the Dark" undoes everything which brings Vykin back to life but takes away Mark's wife and kids (she's alive but still "primitive" and the kids were never born) and Bear and Dreamer's unborn child, which means the only female protagonist spends the whole rest of the miniseries clutching her stomach and going "my baby!" I absolutely don't mean to make light of pregnancy loss but this doesn't feel like a story about a three-dimensional woman experiencing pregnancy loss. It feels like a story that reduces a woman to a) whether or not she's having a baby, which is the only thing she cares about and b) the central point on a vague love triangle with Mark and Bear. SIGH.

Meanwhile they all go to Earth for...some reason...and then Mark gets possessed by the Dark and is evil for a while but then they manage to summon Infinity Man and Mark isn't evil anymore. And it's bafflingly revealed that they're all from Earth in the first place from random different historical time periods and Highfather kidnapped them as babies. Okay???

The Forever People are perhaps Kirby's purest and most optimistic characters, and this cynical take on them actively angered me even though I don't actually care about them at all. I've also basically never cared for J. M. DeMatteis's writing outside of JLI, and I don't like Paris Cullins's art, so this book just had absolutely nothing going for it for me.

Cosmic Odyssey: I do not trust Jim Starlin with the New Gods since I know he's going to kill them all off in 2007. This is...fine, I guess? Starlin really does not like Orion, who he has slaughter a bunch of innocent, brainwashed Thanagarians, and also be deeply bigoted against Forager. Everything else is...fine? It's basically all action. The only character who has an emotional arc is John Stewart because this is the story where he fails to save Xanshi because he's being an overconfident moron, but the moral at the end of the comic is like "Get over it already" so...that happens. It's fine.

But man, that Mike Mignola artwork is worth the price of admission alone. That guy's great at drawing.

Mister Miracle Special: The plot of this is that Barda doesn't want Scott to be an escape artist anymore because it's too dangerous, even though a) she's a warrior of Apokalips and b) he's an active Justice League member and she seems fine with that. So okay.

Mister Miracle (1989): Okay, so the basic premise here - Scott and Barda try to adjust to normal life in the suburbs - is good. And it's a spiritual spinoff of JLI, which is of course one of my favorite books of all time. But this book is like...imagine someone screaming "Iiiiiiit's WACKY!" over your shoulder constantly while you're reading. That's what reading Mister Miracle (1989) is like. Highfather wears a tuxedo! Funky Flashman shows up a lot! Scott fights a giant alien noodle! Some of it is actually funny, but most of it is trying so hard to be funny that it's just exhausting.

There are some interesting character moments in there. Scott, Barda, and Orion all get to call Highfather out. Orion mentions wishing he was closer to Scott. There are hints at Scott's depression and suicidal tendencies, which I find really fascinating. But all of it is always immediately overshadowed by ZANINESS.

Anyway, I think we as DC fans deserve a do-over with a new Scott and Barda book about their lovingly domestic (kinky) life together on Earth that is funny but not desperately mugging for laughs in every panel. And I think it should be set in Vegas where Scott has a residency. Call me, DC!

New Gods (1989): This book was mostly written by Mark Evanier (a couple issues were by Starlin), who was one of Kirby's assistants back when he was originally creating the Fourth World, so you might think it would feel the closest to a continuation of Kirby's vision. Instead, I am making it Exhibit A in my argument for why a character should never be assigned to a writer who obviously fucking hates their guts.

I mean, I don't know that Evanier hates Orion. But boy does he write him like he does. Starlin's Orion (who again, we get a couple issues of here) is a monster, but Evanier's Orion is just an incompetent idiot, forever slamming himself against the brick wall of his inevitably becoming his father. Almost every single issue has at least one character, often multiple characters, bemoaning Orion's absolutely unproductive violence and inability to learn or comprehend basic concepts that should not be at all new to him after living most of his life on New Genesis (i.e. justice, mercy, compassion). Even fucking Kalibak is like "Wow, you're a useless idiot." Kalibak! The king of useless idiots!

The comic is so into hating on Orion that it hates on him when he's not actually doing anything bad; at one point he walks into a nuclear reaction that's melting down in a desperate attempt to stop it before it kills everyone, and Big Bear is like "Wow, he's just like his father." REALLY, BIG BEAR? Show me the comic where Darkseid risks his life to save thousands of strangers. I'll wait.

This series also features:

a hawkish, bloodthirsty New Genesis military leader who keeps trying to overthrow Highfather, which both seems to undercut the whole point of New Genesis as well as Orion's uniqueness as The Angry Guy;

an Earth woman with the worst gaydar in the universe repeatedly failing to fuck an increasingly uncomfortable Lightray;

but then Lightray falls in love with a dead woman he never met?;

also Orion gets a crush on a bug lady and learns to stop being racist against bugs (she's not impressed and good for her)

and Lightray and Orion parade around Earth in the WORST fashions of the late 80s/early 90s, which is about all this book has going for it.

Anyway it was bad and I'm glad I'm done with it. Next up: the 90s!

[villain-in-love]

Behold! The elves and the ship chart!

Imagine falling in love with a crazy woman that barged into your dungeon and continuously tried to kill you. Press F for Thistle. As well as for Kiera, for that matter, since she also didn’t expect for things to turn out like this.

This relationship is such a mess that nobody (even the pair themselves) can figure out what the hell is going on between them anymore.

Clarifications are, as always, under the cut:

♤ The age gap goes in several directions at once. Technically, Thistle is at least 700+ years older than Kiera, since he was a dungeon lord for a thousand years, while Kiera is only 302 years old. On the other hand, he’s younger in terms of physical and perhaps mental maturity. In my narrative, Thistle stopped aging when he was an equivalent of a human 17-19 years old. In the same way Kiera would be somewhere around 21-23 years old if she was human. (In any case, both are equally emotionally stunted and immature...)

♤ They’ll be together forever because Thistle is the living embodiment of “Bold of you to assume that death will get you out of this relationship”. Also after all the shit they went through (including what they personally put each other through), they became so attached to each other that they will kill you if you try to separate them.

♤ Though they don’t dress up much while in the dungeon, both are naturally pretty, but their deeply unpleasant personalities ruin everything. Therefore not a 100% cute couple.

♤ They were not thrilled about being in love. They more or less calmed down about it by now (mostly Thistle) and took on a new approach, but at first it was nightmarish.

Thistle also used to be especially infuriated by that fact because, like, he’s got a dungeon to run! The Golden Country to protect! He needs to find his brother! Meanwhile Kiera is literally the number one hazard. He already had to think about her a lot lately because of how troublesome she is, but now he completely lost the ability to get her out of his head. He’s so busy, he already knows what he wants, and he simply has no time nor need for this nonsense. The worst part is that Kiera started to slowly replace thoughts about Delgal in his mind, and Thistle is truly horrified by that.

Kiera took it all with a bit calmer “Damn, I need to hurry up in killing him”. She hates experiencing those kinds of feelings, she hates that she wants to be closer to someone again, she doesn’t want to get stuck with him in this dungeon for eternity, how can she possibly fail- She had one job, goddamnit. It’s her own fault for wasting time because of her own curiosity. Giving up because of falling in love with a target is pathetic and nothing like her. Especially when those feelings endanger her freedom.

♤ I don’t think Thistle would eat dry noodles even in the modern AU, but nutritional value is almost the only thing that concerns him about food. Would probably eat something incredibly bland or barely cooked and wouldn’t care as long as it keeps him functioning.

Kiera's relationship with food is a long and complicated story... In any case, she is rather picky and her eating habits are all over the place, but she genuinely finds healthier food options tastier most of the time.

♤ Just because Thistle rarely brings up Kiera and the fact that they’re in a… “relationship” (if you would call it that) doesn’t mean that he doesn’t spend a frustratingly large part of his day thinking about her. He’s just the type to obsess quietly.

And in any case, who is he going to tell about her? Soulless bodies of his family sitting in his dining room? His monsters? Villagers of the Golden Kingdom who are all terrified of him?

At least Kiera mingles with other adventurers from time to time.

♤ What draws them to each other is not only being able to understand each other due to their similarities, but also the fact that both of them are really fucking lonely. That’s the glue here. That’s why they latched onto each other so hard and so quickly. (Kiera might claim that she’s okay with being alone, but she’s still human)

♤ Regarding "What stands in the way". Basically, the problem is that they stubbornly cling onto their old priorities because it’s the only thing they have ever known. Thistle is nothing if he doesn’t serve the Golden Kingdom. Kiera is nothing if not a war machine. I guess they both see themselves as tools that are only allowed to have one purpose.

On another note, at this point Kiera tries to kill Thistle not only “for sport” and because she hates giving up, but also because she’s terrified of attachment. Thistle doesn’t make things easier for her, since he tends to get too attached, as well as controlling, and his idea of expressing love includes putting Kiera in the safe terrarium that he controls, so he could take care of her fo-re-ver.

So what we have is a “control freak vs free spirit” kind of problem. This does get resolved by the end of the manga and they come to a "compromise". Not willingly by themselves, though, but because of the circumstances.

♤ Regarding Thistle and “haven't experienced any genuine human connection in centuries” – yes, he had Delgal, but I think that that after everything Thistle has done, their relationship most likely became way more emotionally distant in the last few centuries, at least on Delgal’s part.

[jupitersmoon167]

Original Character - Sloane Romero

Full Name: Sloane Romero

Faceclaim: Monet St. Croix

I meant to post this months ago, but life got in the way, along with my imagination on how I wanted Sloane’s backstory to go. I finally feel satisfied with her backstory to post it. I really enjoy sharing these posts with you guys, so if you wanna know more about her (especially her dynamic with Miguel and her time at the Spider Society) let me know!

Warning! The following has mature content. It isn’t described necessarily, but it is mentioned. Read at your own discretion.

“I actually run better than I swing.”

Alright, let’s do this one last time.

Her name was Sloane Romero. And for the past 2 years, she’s been the one, and only, Widow.

You might think her story is like every generic Spider-Person’s. You’d be wrong.

Sloane never had a normal childhood to say the least. She was taken from her parents at a very young age, and into the Black Widow Program, otherwise known as the Red Room. There, she would be trained into a spy and a deadly assassin.

At 15 years old, she and a handful of other Widow trainees who survived the Red Room’s brutal training at that point in time, were set to be experimented on by Alchemax, who partnered with the Red Room to make a new generation of super soldiers. Sloane was bit by a radioactive genetic hybrid spider, and developed the standard Spider-Man abilities. She is the only one who survived the experiments.

Deeming the project a failure, the Red Room turns to an alternative way to make super soldiers using Sloane herself. By using her as a living incubator, since she hasn’t had her “graduation” ceremony at that point in time. She would go through assisted contraception treatments, and she successfully became pregnant with a child.

Months pass, and she successfully delivers her baby. But as the doctors carry her baby away, she feels an overwhelming urge to protect her offspring. Going on a violent rampage, she brutally injured some of the personnel, before being knocked out. When she wakes, she’s told that the baby didn’t make it. While stricken with grief, she later goes through the graduation process, and is put into forced hibernation, the Red Room fearing she would go on another rampage. There, she would sleep for the next few years, until she was defrosted, and called to complete a mission.

At this point in time, 14 years have passed. Peter Parker is in his first few months as Spider-Man, after discovering his powers. He’s already proven to be a thorn in Alchemax’s side, and as much as they tried to get rid of Spider-Man, they never succeeded. So, they went to their old business partner to ask for a favor.

Sloane is tasked with disposing of Spider-Man by any means necessary. With her abilities, she’s able to get the drop on Spider-Man with ease. But just as she’s about to kill him, she feels a protective urge flow through her, similar to when she had her baby all those years ago. With her spider genes breaking through her psychological conditioning, she decides to help Peter Parker in defeating Alchemax.

Seeing that she’s failed her mission, Alchemax sends the newly formed Sinister Six after the two of them. It’s a difficult fight for the two of them, and they get separated. Sloane manages to defend herself against the Vulture and Doc Ock, but Peter isn’t so lucky. Unable to reach him, she witnesses Kraven the Hunter and the Scorpion kill Peter Parker in cold blood right in front of her.

Enraged, she goes on a violent rampage, the combination of her training and spider abilities making her a deadly opponent. She has no moral code, and has no issue beating each member of the Sinister Six into a pulp. With the exception of Kraven and the Scorpion, she kills them with her own hands, in revenge for murdering Peter Parker. The other four members are left within an inch of their lives, a reminder that she is not to be trifled with. She later successfully destroys Alchemax’s reputation, ensuring they wouldn’t emerge from the grave she dug them.

After visiting Peter’s Aunt May to tell him about the fate of her nephew, and finally being free from the Red Room’s influence, she goes into hiding, away from civilization, away from the city Spider-Man protected. She moved from place to place, from safe house to safe house, before finally settling into a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere, where she sought to live the rest of her days living a quiet, peaceful life.

Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. Specifically in the form of Miguel O’Hara…

“I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t…you never will.”

Playlist:

I would like to thank @spider-starry and @stevenmoon for letting me rant about Sloane and her backstory. You guys helped me flesh out her backstory, and gave me the chance to bounce off ideas, and I really appreciate it 🥰

[marztheincredible]

@originalwinnercheesecake “Plants, beasts, and possibly abominations will attack you if you do then wrong. Messed up potions either explode or have ...undesirable side effects. Not sure about healing, other than the person your doing it on not getting better. Fir sine spells maybe you would get hurt/sick too.”

I can tell you it’s a bit more in depth than that! If you’ve been following me and TB you know that I focus more on the medical aspects when it comes to this fic. Magic correlates to the physical being because well, magic is physical. It’s not some spiritual essence that manifests in select few. It’s a literal fluid produced by an organ.

Straining this organ, the Bile Sac, by limiting its full function with sigils has a trickle down effect. We’ll break down Perry Porter’s situation. He took the Oracle Sigil at a young age. Nineteen summers to be exact. If you recall from the calendar, Witches do not reach full maturity until 21. Already Perry, and many others who took their mark before their 21st have seriously stunted their full development of their bile sac, and in turn, their magical abilities.

With Perry, he is only able to produce Oracle Magic. If we get real nitty gritty and break it down we can describe the separation of magicks in medical and basic terms.

In one ask, I described the Bile Sac as a water tower. It’s pipes leading to the nine houses below flowing freely and efficiently. Let’s look deeper.

Oracle Magic requires a mix of willpower and psyche. If we were to cat scan a Witch using Oracle Magic, their brain would be lit up with activity, with a focus on the pineal gland. Blood and bile flow is directed more towards the brain, allowing the Witch to use Oracle magic to peer into the future. If this Witch is unmarked, the arteries are unrestricted free to flow the right amount of anatomical fluid needed to cast.

Then the Coven Sigil comes in and we start to have problems. With Oracle, the sigil limits the amount of blood and bile needed to cast properly, which means Sight becomes limited. A Witch can no longer see numerous outcomes and possibilities, nor too far into the future. Neurons and synapses are trying to compensate and in turn begin to die. It’s a slow process. Of course we know what follows in result of this. If it’s not the looming heart attack that will kill you long before your time, it will be the mind that will deteriorate in a horrid unchanging fate.

So have fun trying to figure out what the other sigils do before they’re revealed in TB! Think with a medical mind!

So. We know the side effects of, Illusion, Bard, and Oracle. But what is the side effects of Abbomination, Healing, Beast Keeping, Potions, and Plants?

Unfortunately I can’t answer this just yet! You’ll have to wait until the story progresses! No spoilers!

[beneathashadytree]

Hello, I really love your writing style and how uou portray the characters perfectly! So I was wondering if you can make an age-gap relationship between with either (you can choose) (Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy: separately) and the reader who's like 42, who treats them like a kid but the boy wants to be treated like a man.

Oh yea, the girl's persona is like tomboyish too :>

(I had this girl in mind for the scenario)

Thank youuuu~

AS A MAN - TRAFALGAR LAW X READER

Warnings : a little steamy towards the end, major age gap, this is not proofread, reader identifies as female!

Genre : fluff I think?

Word count : 1.3K words (oops)

Additional info : Thank you for being so sweet! I’m glad you enjoy reading my works💗 Headcanon form was more convenient for this request, because I had to touch upon too many points that I couldn’t go into too much detail in (unless I wanted to end up writing 4K words, that is💀). I personally chose Law for this because major age gaps make me uncomfortable when the person isn’t fully mature yet. Law is the only one who is 25+ years old, which is the age at which the brain fully develops. Otherwise it would feel too predatory for me to be able to write it. I hope this one is to your liking and that you don’t mind this! I got a little creative with it near the end🫣

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

Given just how faithful he is to the Hippocratic oath, Law dedicated a good deal of his free time to making advancements in the world of medicine

As a doctor and surgeon, he’s never satisfied with simply taking the facts as they are and using his Devil Fruit to his advantage; no, he very much prefers to sit in his office and toll over research and papers

He’s also allied himself with different pirates over the years, seeking his own benefit and what he ends up getting from their end

Unsurprisingly, he meets all sorts of people, but his bonds with them have always been superficial, if not cold, even

Law’s never been one to think too deeply about whether or not he likes his “business partners” because he simply wasn’t there to fraternize with people

However, once he met her, everything he’d known about his world changed 180 degrees

She was quite a fair bit older than he was, almost two decades his senior, and it showed clearly just how vastly different their ages were in the way that she carried herself

Perhaps it wasn’t the typical maturity most people expected women to have, the stereotypical stuffy seriousness and stuck-up attitude that most noblewomen had, but something about her and the way her eyes trained on everyone showed just how much she’d gone through and seen

As allies, they were forced to interact from time to time, and to Law’s surprise, he didn’t find himself opposed to being in her presence; hell, he sometimes preferred having her around over his solitude with papers and tools in his office

Having her around while he worked had him eager to prove himself, for some odd reason, and eager to prove just what he was capable of doing with his skill set and his knowledge at hand

Maybe it was because she seemed to not think much of him

Not in the sense that she disliked him, or that she looked down on him, but she somehow always treated him as though he were nothing but a mere boy to her, a kid whose efforts were endearing but not necessarily awe-inspiring in their nature

And though he’d tried to deny it for a long while, Law hated the fact that he hadn’t been able to impress her—and that probably was because of the fact that he was so used to people reacting to him and his abilities with a mix of horror and amazement

Her lackluster reactions weren’t at all disrespectful; in fact, she did often express her appreciation for his work as a doctor, warlord, surgeon, pirate, and all-around menace, but she did so in a manner that felt like she was simply praising a child for their newest achievement

She’d even gone so far as to pat his head with a chuckle in an attempt to calm him down after he’d once lost his temper over an inconvenience in the operating room, which he knew she’d done with no malicious intent but had come across as condescending

And Law did understand where she was coming from, seeing as most people in their forties found little to be impressive, after having seen so much—and especially with her being a pirate who’s traveled at least a good majority of the entire world

Her own personality played part in this too, since she seemed to have a laidback sort of effortless swagger that made all men and women alike look up to her

The casualness with which she strutted and her confident smirk was exactly why she fit right in with them, and why they respected her so much

In fact, he himself found himself momentarily stunned every now and then by her mere presence and how overwhelming it sometimes got, and he had to begrudgingly admit that he couldn’t stay away from her due to his immense attraction to everything that she was

But still, the sting left behind every time she cooed at one of his morbid experiments was one that Law couldn’t soothe with his own faith in himself

He had to prove to her just how worthy he was of his title as the Surgeon of Death, and he planned to do it himself before he lost his mind to the fact that she simply didn’t see him as the man that he was

So he tried time and time again to subtly let her sit with him in his office or operating room, often by claiming that he needed an extra helping hand, or that he needed someone to keep watch to make sure that no one would interrupt his work

He hoped that by doing so she would be genuinely interested in his skills, and so impress her

However, Law’s plan seemed to completely backfire when he had her in his office, asking her to organize a stack of incredibly complicated research papers he’d left out on purpose for her to read

As he’d expected, she’d been curious enough to pick them up and ask him to explain what was on them, and he’d smirked a little as he gave her a rundown of the topic at hand while she sat in front of him

She’d gaped at him with awe in her eyes, and he’d believed that he’d finally managed to impress her, that is until—

“For someone so young, it’s incredible how you’ve managed to discover all this.”

And that was when he’d had about enough, and he couldn’t help but snap at her

“I’m not a fucking child. Don’t talk to me like that.”

Once again, his sharp tongue had gotten the best of him, as he could see how she frowned at him while setting his papers down

“Sorry, Law. Didn’t mean to disrespect you as a warlord.”

With an exhausted huff, he rubbed his eyes before finally saying, “That’s not it. It’s not about that.”

Confusion laced her features, and Law took advantage of drawing to his full height and leaning over her, an intense surge of emotions in his hard-set eyes

“I’m not a kid. You’re treating me like one, but you’re forgetting I’m a man. A powerful one at that.”

“I haven’t—“

“Really?” He narrowed his eyes for a moment, before he hummed and leaned in until he could see every single lash and watch every single stunned emotion flicker in her eyes. Part of him reveled in that wicked feeling. “It seems to me like you’ve only ever seen me as someone your junior.”

Despite her warring emotions, she managed to sigh and say, “Law, it’s… it’s only because you’re younger, and I recognize that you’ve got the youth I left behind years ago.”

With a glint of his teeth that seemed just a little cruel and a little cocky, he allowed his thumb to gently press onto her bottom lip, watching as the red flush climbed up her cheeks at his daring move, certainly having not seen this coming in any which way

“I could very well remind you what it feels like to be young.” His low voice was as tantalizing as a velvety purr, stroking her soft lip. “It’s your choice tonight. Just don’t forget what I’m capable of.”

Though one could read it as a threat, she knew damn well that it was a promise—a very, very tantalizing and delicious promise that had her head spinning

Law’s smirk was all-telling, and he knew that from this day forth she would be unable to remove this new image of him from her mind

Was he too despicable for liking the fact that she would suffer from not being able to stop thinking of him? No matter; he’s never been the most morally righteous, after all

Taglist: @finch-ya @stories-that-shaped-me @wifeofkyojuro @livwritesfics

[animeomegas]

Yayyyy req are open again! I’m so glad and it’s always good to make sure what your doing is to the best of you ability! I wanted to request something solely domestic. Something about the Naruto gang (separately) and itachi being pregnant and there other child asking questions? And talking to their bump? How would you think they would react? Also some pups who are protective of their omega parent who do you think would try to protect their bump? Even from their alpha parent!?

Thank you!

(Aww, this is adorable!!! I'm just going to do some of the Naruto boys that had multiple pups in my headcanon, hope that's okay! Enjoy~)

Naruto:

Naruto adores when his pups talk to his baby bump, he encourages it a lot, asking his pups to sing songs and tell jokes to the bump because 'the pup must be getting bored in there, let's do something to cheer them up!'.

He absolutely lets his pups paint on his bump too, and he keeps all the pictures of their drawings in his pregnancy album. This is his last pregnancy (probably) so he's keeping all sorts of mementos of it.

Naruto thinks it's a fun game when his pup(s) kick in his tummy, to get his other pups to poke the hands and feet back. He thinks it's them bonding already and it does warm his heart to see all his pups getting along.

His second pup and only daughter is the most curious! She asks a lot of questions...

"How did the baby get in your tummy, daddy? Did you eat it?"

"What! No, of course I didn't eat a baby!"

"Then how did it get in there?"

"......"

"......"

"Okay, sure, I ate it... 😓"

Naruto isn't ready to explain the birds and the bees just yet (and if we're being brutally honest, he's not the most informed himself lmao)

Iruka:

Iruka is very up and down emotionally while pregnant, so sometimes he likes his pup to talk and engage with bump and other times he gets his alpha to distract them so they stop.

He handles the questions with quite a bit of grace, able to explain things at an appropriate level for the age of his pup, and never making up a story/lie about it or saying 'because it is.'

(Iruka always encourages his pup for asking questions!)

Iruka's pup is very helpful!! Because their daddy is pregnant!! They have to be big and responsible!!

They try and carry anything Iruka needs to carry, with varying levels of success, they fetch extra blankets even when Iruka is too hot, and they tell Naruto off for being boisterous because they don't want him shouting when Iruka is trying to rest.

(Naruto takes the scolding from the young pup with an awkward head scratch and a promise to be quite.)

I feel like Iruka's pup tries so hard to be helpful, but they just make everything slight more inconvenient 😅

Itachi:

Itachi's face just melts into a smile when his pup talks to his bump. It makes his heart feel like it's going to burst.

One time, Itachi was napping and he woke up to his pup talking quietly to his bump promising to be the best big brother ever and always protect them, and it did bring Itachi to tears (which he hid and pretended to still be sleeping but still.)

Itachi's eldest is very mature, always fetching what his daddy asks for, refilling Itachi's water glass unprompted, and checking out books from the library about pregnancy (even though he's only six, what a cutie!)

Unfortunately, being so mature, the pup starts to realise something is wrong... That his daddy is sick.

Itachi explains as gently as he can that his body isn't very good at being pregnant so it makes him poorly and sleepy, but that he'll get better when the pup is out... but it just freaks his pup out even more.

Itachi's pup sends all their time with Itachi, laying with him, occasionally crying because he's worried his daddy will die.

Itachi soothes him as much as possible and lets him stay whenever he wants, but he also encourages his pup to talk to his bump. He doesn't want any resentment building (his pup blaming the baby for Itachi being sick), so he asks his pup to tell stories to the bump.

Itachi's pup has one of their very, very rare tantrums when Itachi goes into labour and the pup isn't allowed to come with. Itachi is high risk and knows that the panic and blood will only traumatise his pup, so he puts his foot down, but his pup is scared he's never going to see Itachi again and freaks out. Itachi gets his parents to watch his pup while Sasuke stays with Shisui at home.

The pup cries himself to exhaustion, poor baby :(

Neji:

Neji doesn't tell his pup he's pregnant for a long time.

He couldn't bare losing the baby and having to explain it to his pup, so he keeps it quiet until he absolutely has to reveal it.

And when he does, him and his alpha explain that Neji has to be very, very careful and rest lots and drink lots of water and not do anything strenuous. They ask that the pup is very gentle with Neji's stomach.

All fair requests, but they get a bit intense which scares the pup a bit, so they only put their hands on Neji's bump when one of their parents guides their hand.

Neji's pup get a bit paranoid (although nowhere near as paranoid as Neji) and does get protective over Neji. They routinely growl away other people in crowds, and they ask Neji to start meeting them a little bit away from school because of all the running children being a hazard.

Yes, they even protect Neji from Neji's alpha sometimes xD

One time, Neji's alpha was poking him in the face to tease him and the pup walked over and gently took their alpha parent's hands and said, "Stop. Daddy's growing a baby, he's tired." They had a hilariously serious face.

Neji pats them on the head and says, "Thank you," which makes them think they have to step in whenever their alpha parents does anything like that.

Neji finds it endearing, his alpha not so much.

(Hope that was good!)

[attemptsonherlifepdf]

bojack horseman and bo burnham: the art of acting like you’re acting and the comedy of misery

at the core of bojack horseman, raphael bob-waksberg’s 2014 comedy, is a story about the relationship between performance and depression. the protagonist of this renowned tragicomedy is best described as a sympathetic villain; he is shown to clearly be in the wrong across various events of the show, and is explicitly referred to as a bad person, but the audience is granted deep access to his personal struggles, resulting in some portions of the audience finding themselves on bojack’s side. the duality of his character is complex, but can be broken down into some core components, that all stem from the impacts of stardom and performance. the standup comedy of bo burnham arguably echoes this sentiment in real time. having been a performer from a young age, burnham creates work that serves as a satirical commentary on the life of entertainers. he uses original songs to explore the reliance upon and resentment for his performative nature both onstage and within his personal life. both the comedian and the netflix show are widely understood to be thinly veiling their critiques of the entertainment industry behind a particular brand of witty and absurd humour.

both bojack and burnham’s content openly criticises their audiences and explicitly states the manufactured nature of the narrative the audience is fed. in the fifth season of bojack horseman, the show satirises itself by having bojack star in a police procedural drama, parts of which are actively written by other characters to reflect events of bojack’s life. the titular character he plays, philbert, is the epitome of selfish male angst, and an example of what bob-waksberg’s show could have been; another story about a sad and angry man whose guilt supposedly makes up for the people he has hurt. according to bojack, philbert teaches us ‘we’re all terrible, so we’re all okay’, an interpretation that is harshly disputed by diane: ‘that’s not the point of philbert, for guys to watch it and feel okay. i dont want you, or anyone else, justifying their shitty behaviour because of the show.’ this moment is a direct reaction to some of the online reception bojack horseman has received. various circles of the show’s fanbase have found themselves relating to the protagonist to the point of defending his untoward behaviour, a response not intentioned by the show’s creators. this is not the only example of bob-waksberg’s ability to make his work self-evaluative. in season six’s exposure of bojack and sarah lynn’s problematic relationship, characters question their sexual encounter from the first season. the writers use this as a way of examining their own choices, and the harmful tropes they played into when using this exploitative sexual encounter as a gag. this self-evaluative quality is what sets bojack apart as a show that assesses the performance it participates in, much like the comedy of bo burnham.

bo burnham is known for directly addressing his audience, particularly in terms of discouraging idolisation and parasocial relationships. some examples of this manifest as responses to hecklers rather than a planned bit in the show, for instance:

heckler: i love you!

bo: no you don’t

heckler: i love the IDEA of you!

bo: stop participating!

he actively addresses the issues posed by being an entertainer, and encourages the audience to understand and recognise that his onstage persona is just that: an exaggerated persona. not once does burnham claim to be fully authentic onstage, and even moments of authenticity we see in his latest special, inside, are staged. we make the assumption that having the physical setting of a stage stripped away grants us a more personal look at the entertainer’s life, but he makes it clear that even in his own home we still see the aspects he has carefully constructed rather than the full truth. arguably though, parts of the show really are authentic; in his monologue during make happy, bo deconstructs his own show in a way that is similar to bojack horseman’s later seasons, admitting that all he knows is performing and thus making a show about the more mundane and relatable aspects of life would feel ‘incredibly disingenuous.’ in his attempts to separate himself from this onstage persona he actually manages to blur the lines between what is acting and what is now part of his nature as a result of his job. this notion is echoed in bojack horseman as bojack’s attention seeking nature is attributed to his years acting in front of a camera every day.

bo suggests that the era of social media has created a space in which children’s identities mimic that of an entertainer like himself, describing the phenomenon as ‘performer and audience melded together.’ in this observation he criticises the phenomenon. bo attempts to force the audience to recognise the ways in which their lives are becoming shaped by the presence of an audience and to some extent uses his own life as a warning tale against this. he points out the way in which the ‘tortured artist trope’ means that your cries for help or roundabout attempts of addressing mature themes such as substance abuse, mental illness and trauma become part of that on stage persona and therefore become part of the joke. both bo and bojack address these topics in more discrete manners earlier in their careers, but this eventually becomes expected, and thus they are forced to explicitly detail their struggles with these topics in order to be taken seriously. even then, portions of the audience are inclined to see it as part of the persona or as something that fuels the creators creativity and thus does not need to be addressed as a legitimate issue. the emphasis on creating a character or persona promotes the commodification of mental illness: any struggle must be made into a song or a joke or a bit, must be turned into part of the act in order to have value. this actually serves to delegitimise these emotions and create a disconnect between the feeling and the person, as it becomes near impossible to exist without feeling as though you are acting. even when an artist’s cries for help become blatant, they continue to go ignored because now they serve the purpose of creating content that criticises the industry they stem from. online audiences can be seen as treating bo burnham and his insightful work as existing to demonstrate the negative effects entertaining can have, and because this insight is useful or thought-provoking to audiences, he is almost demanded to keep entertaining and creating. in response to this demand, his work becomes more meta and his messages become clearer, and the more obvious his messages, the more people he reaches. this increases audience demands and traps entertainers in a cycle fraught with internal conflict.

during bojack’s second season, bojack’s date asks him, ‘come on, do that bojack thing where you make a big deal and everyone laughs, but at the same time we relate, because you're saying the things polite society won't.’ this moment exemplifies how aspects of his genuine personality have now become a part of his persona and this is demanded of him in genuine and serious situations, undermining the validity of his emotional reactions. he immediately makes a rude comment to the waitress at the restaurant they’re in and satisfies his date by performing that character he has set himself out to be. some circles of the fan base have argued that bojack is written as a depiction of somebody with borderline personality disorder, offering a psychoanalytical lens through which to view this notion of performance. a defining symptom of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self; having grown up on camera, being demanded to perform to others as young as six years old, bojack’s sense of self will have been primarily dictated by the need to act.  whether this acting is for the sake of comedy, or as a representation of masking his mental illness, when they need to act is taken away bojack entirely loses his sense of self and relapses into his addictions: ‘i felt like a xerox of a xerox of a person.’ burnham’s depictions of depression run along a similar vein; in his new special he poses the idea that his comedy no longer serves the same personal purpose it once did for him. he questions ‘shit should I be joking at a time like this?’ and satirises the idea that arts have enough value to change or impact the current global issues that we are facing. burnham’s ‘possible ending song’ to his latest special, he asks ‘does anybody want to joke when no-one’s laughing in the background? so this is how it is.’ implicit in this question is the idea that when the audience is taken away and there is nobody to perform his pain to, he is left with his pain. instead of being able to turn his musings and thoughts into a product to sell to the public, he is forced to just think about them in isolation and actually face them, an abrupt and distressing experience.

the value of performance and art is questioned by both bojack and burnham, particularly during the later years of their respective content. burnham’s infamous song, art is dead, appears to be a direct response to the question ‘what is the worth of art?’ he posits that performing is the result of a need for attention (‘my drug’s attention, i am an addict, but i get paid to indulge in my habit’) and repeatedly jokes throughout his career that the entertainment industry receives more respect that it deserves (‘i’m the same as you, im still doing a job or a service, i’m just massively overpaid’). his revelations regarding the inherent desire for attention that runs through all entertainers is frequently satirised in bojack horseman. bojack is comically, hyperbolically attention hungry and self-obsessed, and the show has a running gag in which he uses phrases along the lines of ‘hello, why is nobody paying attention to me, the famous movie star, instead of these other boring people.’ his constant attempts to direct the focus of others towards himself result in bojack feeling like ‘everybody loves you, but nobody likes you.’ his peers buy into his act and adore the comical, exaggerated, laughable aspects of his character, but find very little room to respond to him on a genuinely personal level because of this. interestingly, bojack appears to enjoy catering to his audience and the instant gratification it produces, whereas bo burnham becomes increasingly candid about his mixed feeling towards his audience. ‘i wanna please you, but i wanna stay true to myself, i wanna give you the night out that you deserve, but i wanna say what i think and not care what you think about it.’ he admits to catering to what audiences want from him, but resents both the audience and himself in the process as it reveals to himself which parts of his character are solely for the sake of people watching him.

within bojack horseman, this concept is applicable not only to the protagonist, but to the various forms of performer demonstrated in the plot. towards the show’s end, sarah lynn asks ‘what does being authentic have to do with anything?’ to which herb kazzaz responds, ‘when i finally stopped hiding behind a facade i could be at peace.’ this highlights the fact that because entertainers are demanded to continue the facade, they do not receive the opportunity to find ‘peace.’ this sentiment is scattered throughout the show, through a musical motif, the song ‘don’t stop dancing.’ the song stems from a life lesson bojack imparted to sarah lynn at a young age, and becomes more frequently used as the show progresses and bojack’s situation worsens.

sarah lynn is also used to explore the value of entertainers; in the show’s penultimate episode, she directly compares her work as a pop icon to the charity work of herb, arguing that if she suffered in order to produce her work. it has to mean something. she lists the struggles she faced when on tour: ‘i gave my whole life...my manager leaked my nudes to get more tour dates added, my mom pointed out every carb i ate, it was hell. but it gave millions of fans a show they will never forget and that has to mean something.’ implicit in this notion is the idea that entertainment is the epitome of self-sacrifice. there is a surplus of mentally ill individuals within the industry, largely due to the nature of the industry itself, but some may argue that the cultural grip the industry has, and the vast amounts of respect and money it generates annually, gives the suffering of these prolific individuals meaning.

the juxtaposing responses entertainers feel towards their audiences manifest as two forms of desperation: the desperation to be an individual who is held accountable, and the desperation to be loved and validated. we see both bojack and bo depict how they oscillate between  ‘this is all a lie’ and ‘my affection for my audience is genuine’, or between ‘do not become infatuated with me im a character’ and ‘please fucking love my character i do not know how to be loved on a personal level.’ bojack explicitly asks diane to write a slam piece on him and ‘hold him accountable’, similar to bo’s song ‘problematic’ in which the hook includes the phrase ‘isn’t anybody gonna hold me accountable?’ for his insensitive jokes as a late teenager. their self-awareness is what enables their self-evaluative qualities, but self-awareness is its own issue. bojack grapples with a narcissistic view of his own recognition of his behaviour before settling on a more nuanced, albeit depressing take. originally he makes the assumption that in recognising the negative aspects of himself, he is superior to those who behave similarly: ‘but i know im a piece of shit. that makes me better than all the pieces of shit that don’t know theyre pieces of shit.’ eventually, during his time at rehab he is forced to reconcile with the fact that self awareness does not, to put it bluntly, make you the superior asshole, it just makes you the more miserable one. the show does, however, make a point to recognise how the entertainment industry protects ‘pieces of shit’, prioritising their productive value over how much they deserve to be held accountable, demonstrated using characters like hank hippopoalus. the show itself obviously stems from the entertainment industry, as it is a form of media produced by netflix, one of the most popular streaming platforms available. bojack horseman and bo burnham represent the small corner of the industry that is reflective enough to showcase the damage it inflicts. this is powerful in terms of education and awareness, and urges audiences to question their own motives and versions of performance, but the reflection alone is not powerful enough to help the artists in question. burnham’s candid conversations surrounding his mental health continue to reveal a plethora of issues somewhat caused or sustained by the nature of his career. within bojack horseman, bojack is only able to stop hurting other characters when those characters construct a situation that forces him to face consequence, his introspection alone is not enough. while bojack ends on a message of hope, suggesting to the audience that reverting back to the status quo is not the only acceptable way for events to end, it leaves stinging lessons and social commentary with the audience regarding the unnatural and damaging narrative that performers live through. on a similar but markedly different note, bo burnham’s work and personal progression is playing out in real time, and not in a way that is as raw and genuine as it appears. each bit is planned, even the most vulnerable moments that appear unplanned and painful. his latest special is not entirely devoid of hope, but does translate to audiences as a somewhat exaggerated look around the era of social media and the development of performance, using himself as an example.

the absurdist humour that often acts as a vehicle for poignant statements or emotionally provocative questions is very specific to each media creator. bob-waksberg’s use of puns, tongue twisters and entirely ridiculous circumstances served to simultaneously characterise his points as an expected part of the show’s style of humour, similar to bojack’s emotional instability, but also to make them appear gut-punching in comparison to the humour. burnham’s work is similar in that poignant but blunt statements are often sandwiched between absurd and exaggerated jokes, making them stand out via contrast but not giving the audience too much time to dwell upon them as they are said. performance art is second nature to entertainers, and is presented a an issue that is infiltrating the general population via social media rather than solely affecting the ‘elites’. bojack horseman and bo burnham present the duality of artists simultaneously attempting to level the playing field and increase their chances of survival in the industry, and encourage audiences to know that everyone is bluffing and you’ll never have the right cards anyway.

i.k.b

[leogichidaa]

Hi! I’m trying to put together an oc love interest for Regulus and I was wondering if you could see him marrying someone who doesn’t want to have children? I’m really torn about this because I’ve always kind of pictured him as wanting to continue the family line but on the other hand he could also be very insecure about his abilities as a father due to his own (very formal and absent) upbringing. Very interested to hear your take on this! X

Hello! Yes, I absolutely see this conflict as well. I think that he would feel a sense of obligation to have children due to being the heir by default and, depending on Sirius' situation in the story you're picturing, possibly the last chance to preserve the bloodline in its purist form. I also imagine that he would just kind of want kids. Although I think it's hard for him to separate "want because I know I'm supposed to want and have convinced myself I actually do want" and "want because I inherently have a desire for this thing", at the end of the day I imagine Regulus wants a family of his own for some purely selfish reasons. I can see him longing for a child who would be as loyal and as loving to him as he has been to his parents.

That said, I also do think that he would feel uncertain about his abilities as a father. I imagine that even as a young child, Regulus was mature for his age. I don't think he "gets" children and I can't imagine that he feels comfortable around them. Like you said, he was raised very formally and would struggle to just be silly and fun with kids. I also think that Regulus has a tendency to negatively compare himself to...everyone. So not only would there be a level of "I don't want to raise my children in the same way I was raised but I don't know anything else", I think he would also feel like "the way I was raised wasn't really so bad, I turned out fine (did you though??), but I don't think I'm competent enough to be like my father and also I do not know any other way to be". And while he would want a child who would be as loyal to him as he was to his family, he knows that doesn't always work out. There's always the risk that he has a baby Sirius, who breaks his parents heart with their lawless ways.

As far as marrying someone who doesn't want children, I could see it under the right circumstances. If it's someone he is already invested in and cares about, it might be something of a relief for him to find out his partner is sure they don't want children. The decision is sort of out of his hands, to an extent, and he can avoid having to decide for himself what he wants. And there's nothing Regulus appreciates more than being able to side-step actively making life-altering choices.

On the other hand, I could also see him dismissing out of hand any potential love interests if they make it clear in the early stages that they don't want children because he has been raised to believe that there is precious little reason to date and marry other than to have children and further the pureblood race and whatnot. And because he is, imo, very ambivalent and push-pull in his relationships, there's a chance that he would seize onto "doesn't want children" as an excuse to leave an established relationship that was getting too intimate for his comfort anyway.

FWIW, in my Regulus lives AU, he neither has nor plans to have any children. He does hope every day for nieces and nephews though.

[treesandtheirberries]

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality PART 2

part one

(Thank you all for liking the last post, my heart is so full.)

More about the twins, parents' discussions, and a girl's day of insight and vulnerability.

WC: 3.5 k

-----

After tucking June in bed, much to her playful annoyance, Harry made his way to the bedroom where the love of his life was resting. Crossing the hallway, he smiled to himself. There was nothing he loved more than being a trusted father. Having this responsibility lifted him, it guided him to be even better. Just replaying the conversation he had in his head was bringing extra moisture to his eyes. What could he say? He was a natural softie, this (y/n) knew so it was no different with his babies.

Right before making it to his shared bedroom, he instead turned to make his way to the younger ones' room. (y/n) might possibly be crossed with him if she finds out he awoke them just for some kisses, but she didn't have to know.

Shuffling into the room, lit by a nightlight that displayed soft stars on the kids' ceiling, he noticed both of them whispering to one another. Having them share a room was the conscious decision of the parents. Although they had a few rooms to spare, they preferred the twins to sleep together, as they quickly noticed how the two reacted when apart. Oftentimes, they'll find Mick in Mazzy's bed, or vice-versa. It is clear to the parents that the twins are most comfortable with one another, and separating them seemed borderline abusive.

"Hmmm, what're you two on about? Late, innit?" Harry softly spoke, with a smile on his face to clear any seriousness in his words.

"Dadaaaa" Mazzy dragged, smiling that her father was here. She sat up on her bed, making grabby arms as to drag her father further into the room. He was so weak for his babies and quickly made his way to her.

"Mazzy meet friends today. Talk dada," Mick explained in an annoyed tone, which Harry obviously found hilarious. Pardon him for not knowing the basis of their conversations. As he smiled to himself, he wrapped his arm around Mazzy as she further burrowed himself on his side, and he extended his hand to Mick (whose bed was a very short distance away from Mazzy's). "Bedtime dada, momma said sleep" Mick said seriously to his father as he reluctantly grabbed his hand.

Harry and (y/n) could see the personalities of the two strongly already: Mick adopted the role of the carrying older brother despite being born only six minutes before, and Mazzy the clumsy, caring younger sister. The twins upheld their roles quite well, and because of their personalities, they rarely left each others' sides.

"Oh baby, I know she did but I just want some snuggies. Don't kill me, 'kay?" Harry said, pulling his arm so Mick would get the message to hug his father. Despite wanting to seem ever-so mature, loved nothing more than to hug the most important man of his life and finally succumbed to 'snuggies'.

"Mumma said to sleep for school, dada," Mazzy inquisitively said to Harry, looking up at him questioning.

"Yes baby, you two need to start sleeping more, you'll start preschool later this year, and mums' not sure if they do nappy time like in daycare." He rubbed both of their backs in unison as he saw them interlock hands on his stomach. These moments, he thinks, are the exact reason he does what he does. He wants nothing more than to support his babies (all four, actually) and be able to watch them grow. "Just wanted to give you guys some kissies. Kissies please?" He finished by puckering his lips as he looks down at the two.

They giggle and lean up to press soft kisses on his cheeks simultaneously.

"Now what's this about some friends, Mazzy?"

"Yes papa, so nice to me. Mick wants to hear if good friends."

Harry continued to rub their backs, so proud of their bond. "Good job Mick, always taking care of your sister. You know she'll always do the same for you too."

"I know dada, told me Aidan was rude to her. We not friends again." Mick stated, again making his father's chest filled with pride.

"Good, we all know we need to treat our friends nicely but if they are not kind back, we can't let ourselves be their friends. What do we do, babes?"

The kids smiled, playfully annoyed once again yet said together: "treat people with kindness." dragging it out as most kids do with very little seriousness.

"I've gotta go now, let's tuck you both in so momma will never know I was here, 'kay?" He lifted Mick in his arms and carried him the short distance to his bed, while Mazzy tucked her legs back in her blankie. Making sure Mick was cozy, he planted a wet kiss on his forehead.

"Dadaaa" Mick smiled, knowing his father's antics by now.

After placing another kiss on Mazzy's head, he placed a palm on both of the children's bellies. "I love you two so dearly. You guys, June, and your mum are the best things in my life. Rest up so we can have another fun day tomorrow babies."

He finally made his way out of their room, seeing the two burrowings further into their respective blankets with their eyes closed filling his heart. Sneaking his phone out, he snapped a quick picture and sent it to his wife so she could keep a copy of the moment. (although, through this, he effectively ruined the small secret of waking them.) Fuck it, he'll just say this is how he found them.

-----

"She wanted to talk about the Sage situation?" (y/n) guessed, as her beloved crossed the threshold and planted himself face-first on their king bed. All spread out, he moved his back to crack it, due to the stress of every day and ... well, age.

"Said she heard about my sexuality more than yours. Bet you're jealous huh?"

"Please, I know the bond you two have. Is she okay though? You gave her the good ole' 'we'll always be there' parent talk?" (y/n) never doubted his ability to be a father, but these circumstances were a bit more sensitive than other matters. She finally shut her book, placing it on the bedside table that holds Harry and her's current reads. There was no better end to her day than kissing her babies and reading alongside the love of her life.

"She's okay, I think. It's hard for her, obviously. I hate seeing her in pain but this is just one of those things she has to do. As long as she knows we're here, I don't expect it to be too difficult?" He pondered. He did mean it, being a questioning teenager is difficult as is but adding sexuality to the equation? He was fortunate enough to be so self-assured that the concept of questioning himself wasn't that turbulent. "But she wants to hear from you too, obviously. Be prepared to share your life story babe," he giggled, turning his head to see his wife who now began to stroke his hair. God, that really did it when he was tired.

"Yeah, I think I recall her saying this week was slow since she finished exams, so would you agree that we could take a girl's day in light of it all?" She pondered, wanting to assure her daughter in the best, normal way possible.

Harry finally sat up, only to cuddle into his wife's arms. This was another reason he knew the two were soulmates: she loved being the big spoon as much as he liked being held in her arms. "Yes, definitely a good idea. Mhm, what'd I do to have someone as mindful and loving as you? M'life would be incomplete without you, you're everything to me, love." Still feeling as 'lovey-dovey' as ever, he burrowed his head further into her, almost physically absorbing the love she poured out.

"I just want her to feel normal, I guess. When I finally came out, it seemed like it was the only interesting thing about me. It was the only point of conversation for a while, and I don't want June to feel like it's such a hugely different thing. She's still our baby, always will be."

"Hmm, the parenting books have nothing on us. So happy we're a team," he says, grabbing one of her hands to intertwine their fingers. "Gives me a love boner just thinking about how good we are, God."

"Narcissistic asshole. Want a bedtime handie?"

Her words make him shudder, a moan itching to be released. "M'done for with you."

She smiles at his words, knowing that the man in her arms is unlike the general population in that he prefers her hand far over her mouth. Shifting a bit, she kept one arm around his shoulders, to keep him close, and inched the other one to his briefs. They were firm believers in comfortable sleeping, which often lead to sleeping in only undergarments or less. She began to touch him softly through the fabric, already feeling how hard he was. "Oh baby, what's got you all worked up already?" It was a taunting tone, something about their position made it common sense that he'd be more submissive tonight.

"Please, (y/n). Just a quick hand, please." He shifted his hips, trying to get her soft hand to come down harder. Lucky for him, she wasn't in a mood to see him suffer and pressed the heel of her hand more firmly. "You know exactly what that does to me. Please baby, I'll be quiet."

"I know you will, you deserve this, 'kay?" She finally ended the small foreplay and moved her fingers into his briefs. Having been with her for over 15 years, (y/n) knew exactly what got Harry off the quickest. Nothing sold him out faster than a quick, sloppy hand, and her coaxing and appraisal always made him finish embarrassingly fast. Wrapping her hand around his length, she immediately began to jerk him off, wiping his precome to make it smoother. "Such a good daddy to our babies, best father out there I swear."

Her words made him shudder, even more, her touch making him extremely sensitive. Given her arm wrapped around him, he moved his head to the crevice of her neck, feeling shy from her praise. "(y/n), you're going to-" he was interrupted by her thumbing his head again, letting out a breathy moan, "god, make me cum so quick, please."

"It's okay baby, come on now, give it to me." She smirked as she felt him press soft kisses to her neck, almost as a thank you for the fucking phenomenal handie he was receiving.

His breath increased, indicating he was nearing his peak. He began to whimper ever so slightly, wriggling in place and only pushing himself closer to her. "Cumming, god m'cumming." he moaned, finally releasing over her hand.

(y/n) didn't end there though, still dragging her hand to rub his cum down his length and creating a click-ing sound. It was left unsaid that he loved to be overstimulated and milked.

Finally pulling her hand out after Harry begged her it was enough, she got up to grab a hand towel from their en suite restroom. Coming back, she found him with his eyes shut, clearly ready for sleeping.

"Budge up, or this'll get all gross in the morning."

Moving sluggishly, he allowed her to clean. "Come on now, let me do the same to you," he slurred as he flipped on his side, patting the bed.

"No baby, that's alright. Just wanna sleep with 'ya." She smiled at him fondly, noticing his eyes once again shutting in content. The two were almost annoying cuddlers, and they were practically seared together when it came to sleeping.

"Alright, in my arms 'ya go now. Come." He said faintly as she crawled into the space he made for her. Immediately squishing her face in his chest, he wrapped both arms around her back, caging her in and digging his fingers in her loose hair. "Love you," he whispered, although given his face was over her head, it was pretty muffled.

"Love you."

------------------

"Let's do three more deep breaths, and then we can go see what your mum made for breakfast," Harry indicated, eyes still shut as he sat cross-legged by Mazzy and Mick on the floor, June also sitting on one of the twins' bed.

Before the two parents gave birth to June, Harry insisted that it would be vital to teach their children meditation: a practice that would help them understand and work through their emotions. (y/n) agreed quickly, after hearing many testimonials online of increased mindfulness in small toddlers. Harry tried more often than not to do what he called "Good Morning Heart" exercises before school, but if he was out (y/n) had no problem doing it alone. Today though, the two woke up slightly later than usual and had to split up their duties.

"Okay, good. Keep your eyes closed for now, my bugs. I want you to think about one thing you hope to achieve today. Talk to a new kid maybe, or participate in class. Anything, and take another deep breath as you think of it."

"Dada, done now," Mazzy said, smiling wide at her father. Obviously having meditated her whole life (although they didn't consider it meditation, more so family time) she was used to these exercises and her father leading the group. She didn't know exactly why they did it, but being able to frame your day as positive before it even starts did boost her already positive demeanor.

"Good job baby, so proud of you. Why don't you go run down to see your mama? Not on the stairs though."

"I take her, dada!" Mick excitedly said, unknowingly to others, his positive goal for the day was protecting his 'baby' sister.

Harry smiled, dimples shinning as he saw the two siblings scurry down the hall. "Finished bug?" He asked as June and he were the only two left in the twins' room.

"Yeah, going to ask mom about everything."

"She's ready, and she's so fucking proud of you."

"Thank you, Dad, for everything. I mean it." June leaned over to give him a hug, making her cheek squish against his shoulder. He moved his head over to give her a kiss over her hair, closing his eyes for a second, basking in the life full of love he manifested.

"You didn't hear it from me, but I have an insider report your mum made chocolate pancakes."

-----------

"Come here for your kisses, don't try to weasel out of it," (y/n) laughed, putting her arm over the center console to pucker her lips. Mick was first, giving his mom a kiss on the cheek, dimples resembling his father's. Mazzy followed with obtaining their daily kiss before daycare, both stumbling their way out of the car to meet a teacher that helped them inside. "God they're so precious, as are you," (y/n) said, as she softly pinches June's cheek.

"Mooom," June dragged, now in the 'always embarrassed by parents' teenager phase. "Could we talk about Yesterday? You know, with whatever Dad said?”

“Yes! Actually, before we start would it be cool if we play hooky?” There wasn’t a ‘cooler’ parent between the two as they usually were very lenient, but this definitely bought (y/n) some cool parent points.

“What?! Are you sure? Is Dad okay with it?”

“Of course, he encouraged it really. Just a girl's day for us, can go shopping and eat lunch? Whad’ya think babe?”

“Freak it.” Or for translation, June’s way of saying fuck it.

—————

“Can you maybe … tell me how it worked for you? How you … decided?” June said nervously, still nervous about the topic.

“Yeah, of course, baby. It’s a much longer story than your fathers, but I’ll try to condense it:

“At your age, it’s such a period of confusion, and a lot of times your family can agitate that. From seventh grade to about my senior year of high school, I had what I now call my ‘identity crisis. Really, it was rooted in sexual confusion and overall expression but at the time, it was the most dramatic thing happening since the death of mom.”

The two were sitting in the car, having stopped by a local cafe for coffee before sitting in the mall parking lot. It was an odd place, but comfortable given the two were together. (y/n) and Harry prided themselves off of being an open family and sharing details of their past, but this wasn’t something June had heard of in such detail yet. Because of this, she was extremely absorbed in what her mother was saying.

“It’s really funny to me now, because that’s how I deal with things, I guess. But at the moment, I was-“ (y/n) turned her head to look out the window of the car, needing a small moment before recalling the most difficult time of her life. “It’s ridiculous because I know I should say losing mom was painful, but this whole sexuality thing tore me apart in a different way. It was silent, and it was internal. There was no one I could tell, not until my junior year.

“Anyway, going back to the plotline, yes. I did have a close friend I liked. She is mainly the reason I began to question, that and being a little too obsessed with Stevie Nicks. Sidebar: that was one thing that your father and I initially bonded on.” (y/n) finally lifted her head to see her daughter who stared at her with much adoration. Although she was a mother, this specific conversation still made her extremely insecure due to years of denial from family. She could only hope to raise her kids in a contrasting environment. “It was really hard, and I did become depressed and, well, suicidal frankly. Coming from a background like mine, there isn’t a ‘good’ view on anyone who is gay and that combined with my father's overall conserved nature, I was terrified. Then there was the back-and-forth: am I gay? Am I straight? Am I faking it? Does it matter? And the answer, to the last one at least, is yes it does fucking matter.”

“It made you that sad? Trying to figure it out? Dad says I’ll always be the same girl, why was it such a big deal for grandpa?”

“It was hard on me that I didn’t have someone noticing this pain I was going through. I, unfortunately, did not have someone to tell me that it was okay, and it was normal. God, I felt like such a deviant,” (y/n) laughed in an attempt at raising the mood. “When I finally got around to telling your grandpa, he said that mom mentioned it to him once, before she passed. He claims that she said I was going to be different, and he would have to understand that. Mothers always know. And he did, at least, he tried. It was hard to go from always saying future husband to future partner but he got the hang of it. You’re never too old to change your views and grandpa is the best example of that. He’s also very proud of his son-in-law for being so open about everything including sexuality, says that makes our relationship stronger and is the biggest reason he permitted your Dad to propose.”

"I don't even know what to say, that's kind of insane mom."

(y/n) laughed. The pain of her past has subsided over the years, and it was relieving to be able to recount it. "So insane. What else can I say about this? Two aunts were really rude about it and dad got so angry. It made me cry seeing him fight for me. After that, things just all worked out. It's still a hard topic, it took me forever to tell your dad. I thought he was going to be grossed out," (y/n) laughed again out of remembrance, cheeks warming from embarrassment.

"Mom! How could he, I'm sure he was the same as when you two met but dad would beat himself if he ever hurt you. And, that's really nice to hear about grandpa." June was amused over the change of topic and touched her mom was letting this information out.

"No, no. He's always been so attentive and needy," (y/n) giggled, June joining. "You should ask him about it, he's such a sap but that story especially gets a few tears out of him."

"Oh, definitely will do."

-------------

After the two had strolled around the mall a bit and found a few new pieces of clothing (what could (y/n) say, she had the tiniest shopping addiction) June opened up the conversation once more.

"So, how long does it take to know know."

"Oh babe, there's no number I can give you that works for everyone. You can't really but a timeline on these things. I will say there are stages, like definitely a questioning period, but you might not spend time experimenting with labels or you will. It's really hard to say. Personally, it was like six-ish years for me?"

They continued to roam the store, June now looking at jeans with embroidered details. "Hm." She looked deep in thought, but not nearly as conflicted as Harry described her to be the night prior. "I'm thinking about it mom, and I might be sure about it."

As (y/n) moved June into her arms into a Styles' classic bear hug, she hummed in joy. "I am so happy to hear that baby. We are so proud of you, and you're still our same baby but you're developing your identity and we're just so proud to be your parents. Please, babe, don't worry about this, we're here always to defend you through anything. Although, half of our friends and family are gay or something too." (y/n) gave her a smirk, both chuckling at the situation. "Now, if we're done here maybe we can stop by your dad's fav strawberry dealer, he sent me a message he was craving some."

June followed her mom out of the store after deciding to buy the jeans, body warming at the thought of having what she considered to be the best parents in the world.

_____________________________________________________

Part two done! kinda obsessed with this storyline now, so let me know what else you want to see from this precious family. ily!

[helena-thessa]

Hi Helena! Big fan of your writing here🥺♥️ Your rivamika fics are my safe space 😭 (if you have time to answer) i’d love to know when you first started shipping them, why, and what made you continue to love this ship (or anything else to do with your journey as an RM shipper)? i love your characterisation of both levi and mikasa individually, but even more so, your portrayal of their dynamic as a couple, which is why i wanted to ask so badly ☺️ x

Hey anon! Oh woah, first of all, thank you so much. Second of all, oh god, you probably shouldn't have handed me the mic. heh 😅

I’m afraid to look at the word count of this response, I’m sure it’s much more than you bargained for, but I appreciate the question and enjoyed thinking through my response (: Most importantly, I’m so glad you find my stories as a safe space. It’s really an honor. Thank you for sharing with me 🖤🖤

TL; DR As a longtime reader, writer and lover of stories and story-telling, by being someone who pays attention to how stories are crafted and deliberately developed from beginning to end, I sincerely thought Isayama was setting up rivamika as an endgame relationship. So, I read into and interpreted meaning out of ALL their interactions and became deeply invested.

I don’t necessarily ship them cause of the parallels, age gap, enemies to lover trope, height difference, or some of those common reasons and/or kinks. I’m more basic and boring than that. I love the concept of them coming together as though it’s inevitable.

They both are unbelievably strong, selfless, and have suffered so much loss— so, no one else could truly understand them as well as they can understand each other. They both probably would have always settled for a stable, simple life, and been alone and lonely even without realizing it— instead, they find each other, and realize what it means to actually no longer be alone, to do more than just survive. It’s this understated bond, as opposed to a dramatic and passionate romance, that I envision in them and that I love so much.

Then, the passion, heat, the romantic "spark"— I think that’s an added bonus, the cherry on top, the perfect final puzzle piece. They’re both so physically capable, can speak through their actions, and don’t show much need or capacity for emotional/ verbal communication, so the ability to connect with each other through physical intimacy and mind-blowing sex seems like another given.

Still, at the end of the day, for me it comes back to their ability to fully depend on each other, to the inevitability. Not like some soulmate trope where they 'have no choice' in it, but like the stars aligned to prove it's right. How each of them have only one other person on the whole planet who could see and understand them, to be on par with them, to make them realize there’s more to life than settling and surviving, and they happen to find it in each other.

You asked, I rambled 😅 Here’s a breakdown of my thought process in my rivamika journey. For those who make it to the end or want to skip to the end, I'll finish with the excerpt of the very first rivamika scene I felt compelled to to write.

I've tried before to re-watch and remember the exact scenes, exact moments, that initially captured my full attention, but I guess it was all of them, the gradual and cumulative compilation of their earliest interactions.

Mikasa always appearing cool and indifferent, and paying no attention whatsoever to others fawning over, like Jean initially falling for her, but then her strongly reacting over Levi in the courtroom showed how uniquely capable he was at getting under her skin.

Of course, the scene in the forest chasing the Female Titan was a critical one. I think of that as the first time both Levi and Mikasa were truly able to see the other's strength, mental and physical. And for them, orphans and trauma survivors who have suffered extensive loss, I think that seeing strength in another person made them feel less alone. Less alone in a deep, quiet but cataclysm, life-altering sort of way, even if not a romantic one. Like they didn't know it was something they didn't have, something they didn't expect to get from life, but then found it with each other.

(Even when we found out Levi was an Ackerman, I was disappointed if it meant they were immediate relatives, but willing to accept it wouldn't be a romantic end to loneliness, it would be a familial end to loneliness. But... the author never explored that. Not once.)

In that forest scene, manga and anime, the way that Levi pauses to really look and see Mikasa and think about who she is, what she’s gone through, and how strong and dedicated she is now— that was a defining moment. It was also a visual demonstration of Levi breaking character, from aloof and ruthless, to considering and curious. I thought Yams was showing both of them do that on purpose.

Then, Levi getting hurt because of Mikasa in that scene felt like another clue. Sure, it was while saving Eren, and sure, it could have been meant to humanize super-soldier Levi, or sure, it could have been another aspect of how Mikasa rushing into things over Eren ends up hurting other people that later changes in her character development, but it felt like a very pointed statement about Mikasa being a vulnerability for Levi. And that's swoon-worthy, right? Most of us have been exposed to and conditioned by stories about how special and romantic it is to be the one and only girl who can make an otherwise disinterested or unattainable guy actually pay attention to her, and so admittedly I fall right for it.

I’m sure I’m forgetting plenty, but the opening of season 3 felt like confirmation. When Levi figures out Kenny's behind things and entrusts Mikasa with instructions to share with the others, instructions about fighting people instead of titans that ultimately everyone else besides her struggles with, and when Mikasa lets Levi hold her back from chasing after Eren, her most important way of trusting and having faith in Levi, I honestly took that as cues from the author that rivamika was endgame. I let myself get truly invested from then on. That’s that understated bond I was referring to. To me, that unspoken but undeniable trust is the most important dynamic.

Seeing them fight together or fight similarly has always been fun and powerful and fulfilling.

I'm newer to the snk club. I was originally an anime-only fan and started watching in fall 2019, I think. I wasn't on tumblr, twitter, or anything else to see fandom discourse. So, I didn't know that the rooftop scene of Mikasa fighting Levi over the serum was such a staple for our ship until much later. I love the scene just like many do for all the reasons we do, but I don't think the actual scene was pivotal for me, so much as it's aftermath. I thought it represented two things.

One, it was an important marker in Levi's characterization. Hands-down one of the most striking scenes to me is the one where Levi is in the alley, somber and alone, listening in on Eren, Armin, and Mikasa talking together. It artfully shows his longing for hope and connection. So, when Levi chose Armin for the serum, that represented Levi choosing hope. And when Mikasa ultimately gave up fighting Levi and didn't choose Armin, which Armin finds out about later on, I see that as an important marker in Mikasa's development. It puts a wedge between her and Armin/Eren [Armin, because he knows she would have let him die, and Eren, because Armin is too special to him and he couldn't look at her the same way after realizing she would have let him die]. That distance between her and her childhood friends is one I don't think could ever be healed completely, one of those painful lessons in growing up. By doing that, it then also puts a distance in Mikasa's own childhood self to her current self. I thought that matured her and separated her out in a way that was another clue toward eventual rivamika developments.

That's a whole other conversation on Mikasa, but I’ll stay on track. Her love for Armin was absolutely authentic and fierce, but at the end of the day, at the core of her being, she chose survival over hope. Meanwhile, Levi chose hope over survival. To me, that was soft, fertile ground for the reasons why eventually, if/when Mikasa found hope and chose hope, that could directly tie together with her inevitably in coming together with Levi. Again, less butterflies and fireworks, but more natural and in a way that was just a given.

I wrote Beyond the Walls before reading the manga from the Marley Arc and on, so that's why most of that story is her journey into embracing that hope. *manga spoilers* There's a lot of meta, criticism and talk about Mikasa's silent, off-screen and subtle style of character development in the Marley Arc and afterward. I won't go down that road, I'm still processing the end of the manga to be honest, but I think it's fair to say she does eventually end up choosing hope over survival when she lets go of Eren and saves humanity instead. I love the “Stay with Me” line and think it’s perfect; a simple but profound display of trust and their deep-rooted bond in a really understated way. *end manga spoilers*

Here's something I always wanted to talk about in full but haven't. It honestly reads to me like Yams was building toward rivamika, and didn’t do anything to stop that until too late. There are tools authors can use to ensure we stop shipping a pair or start shipping a new one; love triangles are commonly used in every artistic medium and we’ve all been persuaded by these tools. But Yams didn’t use these tools to make sure readers didn’t feel convinced by rivamika. For all the reasons I listed above, more I'm forgetting, and for the following:

If he wanted us to think they were family and it would be incest, he should have added in a conversation between them realizing they were (close) family and that they weren't the only ones left in their biological family like they thought. But he didn't.

If he wanted us to think it was completely inappropriate between a child-and-adult and student-and-teacher, then he could have done something to ensure Mikasa looked childish or Levi looked older, but no. They barely look ten years apart. I do think it's unacceptable and that there's a power imbalance between a child-and-adult relationship regardless of that, and that there can't be true consent when one is a superior and another a subordinate, so I personally age-up Mikasa in my head and try to handle his position of power responsibly in my writings... but the point being, by the end of canon, there's no inappropriate or non-consensual romance between them, yet there's a lot of history and chemistry that could naturally lead to an age-appropriate and consensual relationship. If Yams didn't want us to think so, he could have made it more clear that there were reasons it wouldn't happen.

The only thing that makes sense to me is the author planned on rivamika endgame but was shamed/pressured out of it (either internally or due to others) OR that the author somehow accidentally created such vibrant chemistry and an incredible dynamic between them. Like, he didn't put enough convincing substance of eremika in, didn't make Levi look old enough, didn’t have one of them do something unforgivable in the other’s eyes, etc. Those are some of those tools he could have used. Romance was never a key component in snk. And since we now know Yams planned or needed eremika endgame for sake of plot and the conclusion of the manga, I personally think he didn't know what to do with the riveting rivamika substance and chemistry being much more convincing to readers. Once he had them so well built-up, maybe the only option he felt he had was to just stop putting the characters together. We get little-to-no rivamika interaction, platonic or practical, after season 3 all the way up until the very end. But there was so much of it beforehand ?? So, it simply doesn't make sense. I think the author just straight-up cut any and all interactions out between them because it was too convincing and moving, more convincing and substantial than eremika. But, as the end of canon shows, we needed to have some eremika buy-in. It's messy writing and unskilled in the romance department, but considering for how long and how complicated snk has been in a creative process and how lackluster the eremika romance (the main and apparently pivotal romance) is developed, I think it’s plausible to say the author effed up.

As far as writing fanfiction goes, there's just so much room to explore them. In canon, we aren't given enough insight into their individual perspectives, let alone their dynamic together, so it feels like a blank canvas to work from. I think that's part of why I love to write them, and also why I don't necessarily read much of them. When I first started shipping them while watching the anime, I read a few of the classics that were canon-verse, but I haven’t really read much since. For me, exploring and discovering them as a writer is the most fun. (It's one of the reasons Naruto and Harry Potter have such large fanfiction collections. There's so much world-building and so many characters, but there's also so much left to the imagination.)

In general, I'm drawn to strong characters, especially women, who are multidimensional enough to be real, vulnerable and soft. Mikasa is the pinnacle of that. I don’t necessarily like to write about her love or infatuation with Eren, but I do respect and admire and consider it integral to her character and her amazing capacity to love. We can have strong, kickass women who falter when it comes to love but are still considered strong for it. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive and Mikasa is a beautiful example of that.

And Levi is strong, but real and vulnerable too; he’s honestly a fantastically developed character, from Petra explaining to Eren in the beginning how he’s not the amazing hero he’s painted to be to the public, to how Levi genuinely cares for Erwin and others and chooses hope despite all he’s suffered.

The end of the manga wrecked me a bit. Kind of like Games of Thrones. You have something that was so epic and well-done for so long, a rushed ending that isn't immediately sensical and isn't fulfilling is hard to stomach. Eventually, I'll move on from the denial of that and process what I think and feel about it. The whole reason we have fanfiction is to expand on canon, but it's made me put rivamika on the back burner until I figure it out. So I'm a little less hyper-fixated on the pairing right now even though interacting with you all and asks like this remind me what brought me here in the first place. 😊

To conclude, I’ll share that the very first rivamika content I wrote was a compilation of moments I thought could be inserted into season 3. These are still moments I plan to edit and publish one day. For anyone that actually read this far, I’ll put a rough and unedited excerpt of the first scene I ever wrote about them.

Thank you again anon 🖤😊

BEGIN EXCERPT [after the rooftop fight for the serum, immediately following the ceremony where Eren touched Historia by kissing her hand]:

Part of her was embarrassed at such a flagrant act of disobedience to a superior, especially to one who saved her and countless others' lives in the past. But mostly, she was anguished by the situation Captain Levi put her in once he revoked the serum meant to save Armin and planned to use it on Commander Erwin instead. Her current ostracization and self-loathing was not entirely her own fault. Anger she felt toward herself was just as easy to wield against him.

It must have shown in the grit of her teeth or defiant tone, because he turned to look at her, more aloof than curious.

Like a flint struck to steel, it ignited the fury she felt toward him.

“I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have just killed you,” she answered him at last, piercing him with eyes darker than the night.

He wasn’t concerned. “You’re good, but not that good.”

Her hands fell to her side, fists clenched as she stood with a single, fluid movement. Before she could let loose a threat, he sighed.

“What’s the problem, Ackerman?” He was dismissive, his shoulders relaxed and posture loose.

The fire too furious to contain, she went sailing for him with the same speed from the battlefield. Her fingers already curled, she tightened her grasp as she swung her fist into his gods-damned apathetic face.

Levi wasn’t unprepared. He easily side-stepped her, then snatched her wrist to steal her momentum. Though he tried to toss her aside, she was no less fast; Mikasa dug her heel in and spun, her other arm shoving hard into his chest.

Too graceful to stumble, Levi used the chance to hook her second arm too. He caged both her wrists in a grip so strong, she was sure it bruised her bones. Still, he only looked at her warily, almost bored.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful? I chose Armin.” If his reminder was meant to ease her anger, it had the opposite effect.

Fury and desperation gifted her additional strength. She shoved into his chest hard. Levi shifted backward, nearly forced into loosening his grip; within that split second of an opening, Mikasa slammed her elbow into his chin, rocking his head backward.

“You did,” she seethed, but as fast as the fire inside her exploded, it was doused. Her next words came out broken and damp. “But I didn’t.”

Levi remained stern and otherwise unmoving as he attempted to flex his jaw through the spasm of pain. As the momentum of the fight died down, he loosened his hold on her wrists and evaluated her distraught frame.

Mikasa immediately released her own hands and turned away from him, eyes stinging from tears she refused to shed as she focused on the stars ahead. Admitting the harsh words aloud hurt her far more than any injury she could inflict onto him.

Not only was Armin one of the only friends she had, but he’d been a steadfast one throughout almost all she could remember of her life. After the trauma of her childhood, it was Eren and Armin who embraced her, whom she learned to love. Now, though, there was a wedge between her and Armin she was not sure could ever be removed. What was worse, as deplorable and selfish as she knew it proved her to be, was the painful wedge it now put between her and Eren too.

Once again, she found Levi standing at the peripheral of her sight, close enough to see but far enough to be a blur at the edge of her watery vision.

“You almost killed me.” Levi repeated his earlier words, but he said them with an odd bite, torn between frustration and patience. “You would have killed me to save him.”

Too late, Mikasa realized he hadn’t meant these words as an accusation, but an odd form of validation. She bit her bottom lip, teeth puncturing too hard; the tang of metal was sharp on her tongue when she swallowed blood.

“You thought about letting your closest friend die,” Levi said quietly, tiredly. “But I did let mine die. I left him for dead, when I could have saved him.”

Mikasa was startled from her selfish reverie, for the first time acknowledging the sacrifice he made on that fateful afternoon. She’d been too absorbed in her own relief, and then, her own regrets to consider what the decision had done to him.

For a brief moment, she considered turning to face him, but the stark reality of the matter made her refrain. How could she feel pity for his loss, when his loss enabled her gain? An uncomfortable knot tightened in her stomach.

“Tch,” Levi sighed. He was only one notch less taciturn, but for him, that was soft. “You’ll live with your guilt, and I’ll live with mine.”

His words granted Mikasa’s tears the permission to spill. She buried her face further into her scarf, both hands trembling at the worn threads. As quietly as he arrived onto the roof, Levi disappeared from it.

.

.

It was rare for him to indulge in alcohol or celebrations, but Erwin’s absence felt more tangible than his presence ever did. Levi distracted himself with the chaos of the few remaining Scouts that Erwin had died entrusting his legacy to, and attempted to drown the pain with whatever drink Connie Springer shoved into his hands.

He found Hanji with their ale long-forgotten about on the table as they half-stood from their seat, frantic while explaining some morbid experiment in great, vivid detail to an unsuspecting and slightly horrified MP officer.

Though Levi wordlessly took the seat beside them, Hanji paused their rant to slap him hard on the back, an enthusiastic greeting flying from their drunken lips. The MP took this chance to excuse himself, a pathetic attempt at politeness, but Hanji either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

“Ah, Levi,” they smiled at his drink, though it didn’t entirely reach their one eye. “Where you been?”

Levi didn’t answer. “You know, shitty-glasses, you’re even more unbearable about your experiments when you’re drunk.”

Hanji waved dismissively and reached for their ale. Years spent in battle and command together had gifted both of them with an eased familiarity, and sometimes, genuine friendship. In the same manner he ignored their question, Hanji ignored his lack of response and went on with their original inquiry.

“Careful, Captain,” Hanji warned lightly. “Now that there’s far fewer Scouts, you having a favorite might cause some division.”

Even though Hanji meant the words, there was a glint of mischief that twinkled in their remaining eye.

“It’s not favoritism,” Levi countered bluntly, turning his vision toward the young man on the far side of the room. “Eren is simply the best chance that we have in this war.”

Hanji laughed as if he’d made a joke and Levi looked back to stare at them, unable to be surprised at their quirks or oddities any longer, but still a touch curious about what spurned this current demonstration.

“I wasn’t talking about Eren,” Hanji said at last, a pointed nod toward his injured chin.

Levi blinked. He didn’t realize he was nursing his injury with the hand not on his drink. As though it were too hot to touch, Levi dropped his hand.

Hanji was not judgmental, nor inquisitive. In a war-torn life of losing too many cadets entrusted to him, the fact that Levi found a soldier with the strength and skill to remain safe was not only rare, but worth special attention. Still, it made him too lenient.

“Sometimes I think you’d let her get away with murder,” Hanji chided halfheartedly.

When he thought of Erwin dead in his grasp, sometimes he wasn’t sure if he already had.

[dinner-djarin]

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader)

Chapter 2: A Valuable Friend

Summary: After surviving the Empires attack on Nevarro, you reluctantly go back to your monotonous life. But when the Mandalorian returns, you find yourself in a new position you never would have expected: his friend.

Warnings: Me making shit up about Mandalorian culture whoops, alcohol consumption & getting sick (reader gets drunk), some self-deprecation on the part of the reader, vague talks about having children, mature language (real life and starwars),

Word Count: ~6.5k

Notes: (more at the end for important note on one line in the fic)

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No. NO?!

How and why would you -

Did you really -

You really kriffed up that one.

Not only was that the single most embarrassing moment of your life, but you also just blew your first real chance at escaping this prison sentence of a planet.

Ever since you arrived on Nevarro you’ve wanted to leave. It was something of an accident, ever ending up here in the first place.

After the death of your mother, you were effectively an orphan, although old enough to care for yourself. In fact, you had already been caring for yourself and your sickly mother ever since your older sister left to fight in the rebellion. You always admired her bravery, her passion to do good in a galaxy that had treated her so poorly. You only wished you had half of her sense of purpose. So, when your mother finally passed, you decided you needed a change. You needed to find your purpose. You had nothing and no one to hold you back, so why not search for it in every remote corner of the newly liberated galaxy?

After gathering your dwindling stash of credits, you caught a ride to every backwater skughole you could find, just for a change of scenery. Along the way you learned that being a young – relatively attractive – humanoid had its fair share of advantages. It wasn’t long until you picked up certain…skill sets…to help you survive. But you didn’t get very far. You somehow ended up on Nevarro with little to no credits remaining. Meaning you were stuck in the same position you had been desperate to leave behind in the first place – broke and alone. You figured you could pick up a job to save up, but it barely paid enough to get by. You were stranded.

But suddenly the perfect opportunity to get away from it all had landed in your lap. In a moment you were granted the perfect opportunity to flee this hell hole and never look back. But in that same moment your incredible ability to self-sabotage just couldn’t be contained.

You had no kriffing clue why he would ask you – someone he barely knew – to join him on his new adventure, but nevertheless he did. Had you really proven yourself that trustworthy, or was he just able to see that you were evidently no threat to him? But why even ask you in the first place? How could he know of your deep desires to traverse the galaxy?

You were baffled. So much so that in that overwhelming moment your confused consciousness decided to betray you. What in the outer rim could possess you to say no. To travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian, The Mandalorian that you couldn’t get out of your head.

He said join him. But now you realize he probably just meant like for a little while, until their next stop. Right? But your flustered idiotic brain had to go and overthink it. In your panicked state you started to imagine what it would be like to travel with the Mandalorian and his child. To see the galaxy, as you always dreamed, at the side of a man who could protect you from anything. There would be no safer companion, but maybe that's just it. You’d been crushing on him so hard that being stuck in confined quarters with him might not be the best scenario. There’s no way you could force yourself to act normal for that long. And that must have been the thought racing through your head at light speed when you choked out the words you may now live to regret.

~

A week later you decide its probably time to get over him. Your crush over Mando has only caused you pain and put you in unbearably uncomfortable situations. You’d be much better off forgetting about him and moving on with your life. Besides, you don’t even really know him. You’ve probably spent a collective hour or so with him, maybe a bit longer if you add up all of the small conversations you held whenever he bought supplies from you.

It’s not even a real crush, just some lustful wishing. Do you secretly wish he’d take you out behind the cantina and fuck you into the next millennia? Yes. Would you let him do absolutely anything he wanted to you... probably? But is that very realistic? What is all of that really based on anyway? A suit of armour. His hypermasculine gait. The intensity behind his unflinching helmet. Nothing really about him. You don’t know his name, or his age. What he even looks like, but you bet it wouldn’t matter. No-

You need to stop those thoughts if you’re ever going to get past this. You. Do not. Know him. Therefore, there is no logical reason you should have any emotions invested in him. And that’s that. The plain and simple truth. It just doesn’t make any sense. So, you need to stop. Take control of your horny ass brain and stop thinking about him.

And just then – as if the Maker himself planned it – the Mandalorian walked by your booth. The sight of his broad shoulders almost erases all thoughts of letting go of your feelings. But just then you notice something. Something in the way he’s moving through the bazaar. It strikes you as odd, almost as if he were stalking prey. He’s hunting, you think. He scans over the area, but a little too erratically for someone of his status. You thought he’d be more elegant, sticking to the shadows until the right moment. Invisible. Deadly. However, here he is frantic. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was afraid.

You don't know how one of the most frightening beings in the galaxy can become a beacon of panic and worry, but there he was. Suddenly, he spots you and makes his way over in several large strides, making quick work to shorten the previously large gap between you.

“Have you seen him?” he barks forcefully.

“Who?” you ask, immediately catching the worriy in his tone.

“The child, my-”

“You lost your kid?!” Your worst suspicions confirmed before he even finishes his sentence.

“I didn’t - I thought he’d be safer with me than on the ship. I looked away for one second-” and then you hear it. His fear finally pried its way into his voice and cracked it. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he may be on the verge of tears.

“Hey it’s okay,” you place a hand just below his pauldron, grabbing his warm, thick bicep. If the situation had been different you might have let yourself think about the fact that only a slip of fabric separated you from him. That only millimetres below was a man of flesh and blood, not of cold hard metal. “I’ll help you find him,” his tension melting away slightly at your words and your touch, so you continue. “You take this side of the market and I'll look over there,” you insist, hoping that giving him some sort of tactical plan might spring him back into bounty hunter mode and away from panicked Dad.

“Thank you,” he stops, and stares at you. “I’m sorry I never asked…”

But you finish his thought, and finally tell him your name. You can’t believe after all that has happened, all the times he came to your vendor, your dumb ass never told him your name. But he nods and returns quickly to his search for the kid.

You turn on the spot and sweep the area with your gaze. In that moment you think back to when you were small. You loved to hide. You were amazing at it. So good, that your father once looked for you for over an hour and the only way to lure you out was with the promise of your favourite Alderaanian sweets. You use that memory and thought where you might have hidden. The market is buzzing and booming, much livelier now that the Imps were gone, and amongst all the chaos it would be natural for a child to feed off the wild energy. You begin peering under other merchant tables, behind walls and crates, when you stumble across a vase. Oddly out of place, but the perfect size for a little green monster to hide. You lean closer and hear a distinct coo as you tilt the lid back. Those giant black orbs staring back at you fill you with relief. You scoop up the child as you wonder how the hell he would have even got in there in the first place, never mind how he then placed the lid back on top.

You move quickly to find his flustered father, hoping to give him that same sense of relief you just experienced. When you do find him, he meets your gaze and moves quickly towards you. So quick it's unbelievable. One minute he was across the bazaar, the next he was scooping the baby up from your arms.

“Don’t ever do that again kid. You had me worried sick.” the child’s mischievous grin suddenly disappeared at this scolding and he became quiet in his father’s arms. “I better let Cara and Karga know. I was with them when he went missing and they also went looking for him.”

“Tell them to meet us in the cantina, I think you could use a drink… or at least a minute to unwind,” you silently curse yourself for being such an idiot. Offering a Mandalorian a drink might be the most oblivious and inconsiderate gesture you could make. In your shameful silence you watch Mando place the child in a floating orb. You recognize it as the same one that trailed him into town on the day everything went down.

“Don't you have to go back to work?” Mando questions, kindly skipping over your foolish comment.

“It was a slow day, and the sun is almost down, which means I’m almost off anyway. I don’t think my boss will miss me. But I mean, if you prefer to be alone I-”

“No, please come” He interrupts. “Without you I may have lost him for good.”

“I seriously doubt that Mando. I don’t know if you know this, but you are a bounty hunter.”

And then he chuckles. Like an actual laugh. Quick, quiet, and modulated, but still there. You think about memorizing the gorgeous sound, which also makes you wonder how often that happens. When was the last time he actually laughed? And what it would take to make him truly laugh? Loudly and unabashedly. You wonder what circumstance would allow him to fully let his walls down around you. How you would fall apart at the sound of his full tenor. Finally, you make a mental note to scold yourself later for these thoughts.

As the three of you make your way to the cantina you decidedly lag one step behind the Mandalorian, walking right next to the floating orb that contains the child, just to make sure the kid doesn’t pull anything before you can get there. You’re shocked at how Mando can be so trusting of this little menace so soon, letting the orb follow him without keeping an eye directly on the kid. It’s starting to make more sense how he might have gotten lost in the first place.

When you finally reach the cantina Cara and Karga are already set down at a table with possibly the largest bottle of spotchka you’ve ever seen sitting centre of the table. You take the seat next to Cara, while Mando places himself directly across from you, next to Karga.

“So, we have you to thank for the capture of this bounty huh?” Karga somewhat insensitively jests as he glances over to the child. In fact, you think you see Mando stiffen at these words. The last time you were all together was in service of protecting the child from the people who put a bounty on him in the first place.

“She’s truly a wonder.” Cara says in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I mean how’d you find the little bugger?”

“Truthfully? It sounds kind of odd, but I put myself in his position. I just thought about what I would have done when I was a child” You answer back to her, a little embarrassed at your confession. “I remembered how I liked to hide when I was that age. I figured he’d probably be wanting to have some fun. Of course, he couldn’t know that hiding in the middle of a crowd was only fun for him.” You continue as you look down into your hands, slightly lost in your thought, “Kids are often like that, giving us grief for their own enjoyment. But it really is a wonder. They seem to have an ability to find joy in the most desolate of places. They still see magic in the galaxy; they still believe in the impossible.” A subtle comfort fills your chest, and you smile as you remember your time spent with children back on your home planet. Time spent with your younger brother. You glance up at the child in his crib, “They have natural curiosity for the world around them. An endless hope for what the galaxy could be.” When you finish you look back to the group at the table, only to see the shared glances of amusement between Cara and Karga at your naïve outlook. You felt a little embarrassed at their reaction, but it didn’t last.

A droid disrupts the uncomfortable silence by approaching your table with 2 extra glasses, obviously unaware of the fact Mando would not be joining in the drinking. Good to know your common sense was on the level of a bartender droid.

You however were unsure of what to do. It wasn’t that you were necessarily opposed to the beverage now being offered to you by Karga, but this didn’t seem like the right time to indulge. You had probably already embarrassed yourself enough in front of this particular group for one night. So, when the child began to stir in his crib you took it as an opportunity to forgo the beverage and focus on him. With your arms reached out towards the child, you suddenly think to get the consent of his guardian. You look up at the Mandalorian and smile when you receive a silent nod from him. After grabbing the child and setting him in your lap, you hope that you had successfully removed yourself from the attention of the others.

“You like kids then?” Cara pries at your thoughts, trying to continue your previous chain of conversation.

“Well, I haven’t really been around them in a while, not since being home. There were always so many children in my village, and they were always so filled with wonder. It made me see the world a little brighter.” You finish, hoping the conversation ends there.

“Ever think you’ll have your own?” She continues, obviously seeing the gleam in your eye as you speak.

You laugh at this question but honestly you hadn’t really thought of it. You’ve never been able to picture a future like that. Husband. Kids. Home. It had been too long since you had any feeling of security to hope for that type of life. You'd pretty much spent more of your life alone than with your family, to the point where you don't even know what it’s really supposed to look like.

When you don’t give her an answer past laughter, Cara switches her attention to the Mandalorian, “How ‘bout you Mando, ever thought you’d end up with a kid of your own?” and you turn back to the baby, hoping that you had finally left the center of the conversation.

It seems to work as you overhear the members of your table switch their topic to the criminals that still plague Nevarro, and the recent advances ‘Marshall Dune’ has made in her efforts to clean the town.

Tuning them out, you begin to play with the child, making faces and babbling along to his adorable coos. The child becomes fascinated by the idea of hiding your face behind your hands, only to suddenly reappear seconds later, and he tries to pry your hands away every time. After popping your face out for the tenth time the child begins to reach for your face again, but this time grabbing your nose, and you can’t help but giggle at his precious three-fingered grip. However, when his tiny hand slips to your cheek, a sudden wave of emotions rips over you, and you feel overwhelmed by a grief you haven’t felt in years. Your eyes tear up, and you remember flashes of a memory you’ve worked hard to repress. Standing in a dark closet huddling tight to your brother and sister. Then, the loudest sound you’ve ever heard fills your ears and-

“Kid!” Mando bellows and removes the child from your grip. You turn away from the table and look up at the Mandalorian, cheeks drenched by your tears and barely able to breathe. He sets the child in his pram, and crouches in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay just breathe, slowly, breathe. You’re okay, you’re safe,” he reminds you, holding your knees. It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath, but in those moments, you stare through the visor, past your own reflection, and focus on the eyes that you knew were staring back at you.

“What… was that” You finally manage to choke out.

“The kid, he must have done something to you. He’s got these powers-”

“He made me remember?” You blurt in disbelief.

“Umm, I’m not sure. Maybe. The people he belongs to, the Jedi, they are sorcerers.”

“So, whatever he just did to me… that’s what that woman, the other Mandalorian, was talking about?” You ask.

“Yes, whatever he just did, and more,” Mando adds

“More than that?”

“So far, a lot more.”

You finally snap back to reality, remembering that there are other people present, so you turn to give them a reassuring nod.

“How ‘bout that drink?” Karga asks in an attempt to lighten the mood, and you shoot back the beverage quickly, attempting to wipe the resurfaced memory from existence.

~

After the first round of spotchka had been downed, Cara and Karga made their way to the bar for more drinks, leaving you and the Mandalorian alone.

“So… you’re stuck with him, huh?” you ask, feeling quite light-headed from the drinks, any filter you previously possessed had now dissipated.

“Well, I wouldn’t say stuck,” Mando states sitting up straight.

“You don’t think you bit off a little more than you can chew? He seems like quite the handful.”

“He’s a good kid.” Mando snaps shortly, making you finally realize he has become defensive from your words.

“Oh. No, I just meant, kids are already a lot of work, I can’t imagine the magic powers make it any easier,” you joke, trying to diffuse your mistake with a small chuckle.

“No, I can’t say they do. Although without him or his powers I’d be dead.” Mando says blankly, as if his words were common knowledge to you.

“Wait, what?” You ask in shock, wondering if in your current state you forgot about some lifesaving event that took place previously.

“Yah, so would Karga.” He glances over at the pair at the bar, and you follow with your eyes. “Saved me from a mudhorn the first day we met. Healed the poison in Karga’s arm when he was attacked by a reptavian.”

“Wow,” you say quietly to yourself, “Look at you go kid. You’re pretty dang special.” You say towards the child, sticking your tongue out and successfully getting the kid to giggle at you.

“Yah he is.” The Mandalorian says quietly, almost a whisper to himself, and with a lightness that makes it sound like he might be smiling.

“So, will you raise him to be Mandalorian as well?” You wonder aloud, taking a swig from your drink, as if you needed to increase your level of inebriation.

“Not necessarily. Although I’ve adopted him as my founding, he belongs with the sorcerer group called the Jedi. My goal is to reunite him with them, but until then, technically yes.”

“Does that mean anyone can be Mandalorian, if they get adopted by one?”

“Yes. But they may not need to be adopted. If someone was old enough, they could simply train under another Mandalorian, and then swear an oath to the Creed once that training is done.” And although you want to know more about how he grew up, some grain of restraint is planted in your brain, thankfully stopping you from prying into his private life. Instead, your interest in the Creed is piqued, and you decide to follow that train of thought instead.

“And is that a difficult process then? I mean, not just anyone would be able to pass it, right?” And even though warning signs were flashing in your brain, telling you not to risk disrespecting the secrecy of the Creed, the Mandalorian responds. He continues to tell you intimate details of his training process, specifically towards the fighting corps, including how his adoptive siblings and he were forced to spar with each other, often walking away with several harsh wounds. He tells you about how he studied the language as much as he could, as it was rarely used, but still sacred among his people. How he had an affinity for languages, and how he specifically enjoyed the simplicity and poetic nature of Mando’a. He tells you of grueling trials, times where he thought he wasn’t going to make it. But he also explains how his low moments lead him to find the strength to persevere.

The whole time he spoke, you stared at him with glimmering eyes. You hung onto every word. Even through the modulator you could hear the care and restrained excitement in his voice,. You could tell just how important this culture was to him, how he cared deeply for the history and sanctity of his people and Creed. And as he spoke with such tenderness, you felt yourself become entranced with his words. As he detailed the responsibilities and dedication to his covert - how important his training had been - you felt something within your heart, a longing sentimentality. His words describing a life you wish you had known. A sense of purpose and duty. A greater cause to fight for. A chosen family with a common mindset. A place in the galaxy.

These were things you had dreamed about for your entire existence. Every day that passed felt meaningless and draining, knowing that you were doing nothing of importance. The life Mando described to you sounded like heaven. The idea of having something to fight for filled your entire body with electricity. You couldn’t help but stare at him with wonder as he detailed to you a life you had always wanted.

“Dank ferric.” He grumbles. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said all that.” Mando says, snapping back from the trance he had found himself in.

“Oh gods, no that’s my fault I shouldn’t have pried.” You try to apologize. “I’ll forget everything you said.” Although you don’t truly know if you had a choice. You think you might never be free from the wishful idea of belonging that had latched onto something deep within you.

“Oh, I don’t mean that I shouldn’t have told you. I trust you won’t do any harm with that information.” He says with a nod towards you and you can’t help but blush at his compliment. Being trusted by Mando might be the highest honour he could give. “I just shouldn’t have gone on so long. I apologize for taking up your time.”

“Mando, you don’t have to apologize for speaking.” You joke, although simultaneoausly noticing the way Mando had stiffened at your words, you continue, “At least not to me,” you say reaching out across the table to grab the Mandalorians hand, a gesture that your sober self would never have had the courage to do. “You obviously care about your heritage, and rightfully so. It sounds magnificent. You should be able to be proud of it.”

“I don’t usually have that privilege. Many people would take advantage of such knowledge.”

“Well, you deserve to have the freedom to talk about something you care about,” you say as you bring your other hand across the table and give a caring squeeze to his hand, “And I swear, the only exploitation you’ll get from me is my claim to babysit your little womp rat whenever you come to town.” you say retracting your hands away from Mando and instead making grabby hands toward the child.

“Well, I don’t know anyone better suited to the job. It would be unwise to deny you that wish, especially now that you have intel on me.”

“Was that a joke, and a complement? From a Mandalorian?” you scoff, “Wow. I never thought I’d live to see it.”

“Does that mean I have to kill you now?” he shifts to the edge of his seat and leans towards you.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, bucket head.” you tease, knowing full well he could kill you in an instant without even trying. Regardless, you shift forward and cross your arms on the table, challenging him with the mirrored motion.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, your mouth creeping into a mischievous smile. You wonder what might be going through his mind, as all you can think about is the idea of him pinning you to the ground in a millisecond, and just when you think he will break, a voice brings your attention away.

“I think we gotta call it,” Cara says, a little too loudly for her close proximity to your ear. You wince at the intrusion, cursing the fact that you won't get to know how your challenge ended.

“I should be on my way then” the Mandalorian states, “Although I’m still missing some supplies-”

“Lemme grab them for you.” You insist, “I can meet you back at your ship in 30 minutes. Got a list?”

The Mandalorian lists off a handful of items, and you instantly know you have them all in stock. You give him a nod and stand from your booth. “See you in a few.” You say with a wink that you instantly regret the minute you turn your back.

~

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” You question Mando as you approach him with the crateful of supplies he requested.

“Not really sure. If I get any leads on the Jedi, I have to follow them up. Of course, Nevarro is always a safe place to refuel and restock.”

“So, you’ll be back as long as you need shit from me?” you startle yourself with your choice of language, remembering the several shots of spotchka you just downed and how your tongue might be a little looser.

“Not just you.” The Mandalorian states rather quickly, in a tone you’d almost label as flustered. “I can’t get fuel from you,” he continues much more coolly.

“Mhhhm, right. That is true. But no other reason.”

“Another reason for what?”

“For you to come back. Here. I mean you’ve got friends here-”

“I don’t really have friends.”

“Well, that mighta hurt my feelings if I knew you a bit better, but I’m certain Cara and Karga would feel a bit under appreciated. Especially after everything that happened…” You trail off.

“They are much more business partners then friends,” you squint your eyes and raise your brow at him with those words, making him corrects himself, “But sure. If you want to classify them as friends, then yes.”

After a brief silence you somewhat bravely somewhat stupidly ask, “And me?” Eyes wide and hopeful, sober-you would be ashamed. Taking a step towards him you muster up even more courage, “Would I be classified as a friend too?”

“Yes. A valuable one,” He states stepping towards you as well, “One who could teach me something about caring for a child.”

“Oh, no. I know nothing about that. I guess I’m just good at relating to them. Maybe I’m still young at heart” you tease. Something about the Mandalorian tells you he’s got a lot of years behind him, a lot of...experience. You don’t have much evidence to back it up, more of a vibe really.

After another small silence the Mandalorian speaks. “I guess it’s nice to have friendly faces around, for the child's sake. Perhaps I should make it a habit to return until he’s been united with his people”

“And what about you? You don’t go crazy having no one to talk to but the kid?”

“Not much of a talker”

“Except for tonight.”

“Fair.” He bluntly states. “It doesn’t seem too difficult to get information out of you”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“You seem to like to talk, is all”

“Well, it’s been a while since I've been in good company. To be honest I think I talked more tonight than in the past several years''

“I can agree with that.”

“We make a good pair then. Two people who don’t talk yet can’t shut up around each other” And at this point you don’t even know what you’re saying. The proximity to the Mandalorian and the alcohol in your blood are mixing at a dangerous level, making you blurt out things you’re sure you’d never have the courage to say.

In the silence that followed, you are eager to find something to fill it. You think back to how he talked of his upbringing, the joy you felt in his voice. It reminded you of the last time you could remember feeling that way.

“You know, the way you spoke of sparing with your siblings, it reminded me of my childhood.” You say, eager to find something to fill the silence. Normally you don’t mind quiet but drunk you has decided otherwise. “When I was very young my siblings and I would fight constantly, always in good nature of course. We wanted to win the affection of our parents, although they would have loved us either way. But they would cheer us on. They always encouraged our fighting, telling us we would be stronger for it when we were grown.

“When they watched us, they looked so in love, so proud. My mother would turn to my father and say ‘we raised warriors’. It was like they knew things would turn bad. I mean of course there were wars, and the Empire was a constant threat, but somehow, they were always prepared for the worst. Like they were ready for a fight that might never come.”

The Mandalorian stood silently, and it seemed your attempt to relate to him failed spectacularly. However, for a moment, you thought you caught the subtle tilt of his visor. Like he was examining you, maybe unsure of what to make of your lengthy anecdote.

“That does resemble my upbringing.” He spoke softly, finally filling the conversational void. “Quite a lot, actually.” But then silence returned. A buzzing filled your ears from the complete lack of auditory stimulation. You felt yourself becoming unsteady, like the force of the silence was pushing you off balance. You now realized the total effects of your inebriation were hitting you. “Were you-” but before Mando could finish his thought, your stomach forced its contents out violently, and you were lucky enough to find the sense to turn away from him, and rush towards a near alleyway, just in time.

As your body rid itself of the liquid poison, you couldn’t help but let multiple tears spill out of your eyes, unsure if it was from the force of the projectile, or the complete embarrassment.

“Oh, dear gods,” you finally croak as you regain your bearings on the spinning world around you. “I am so sorry, Mando. That was so kriffing embarrassing.” You try to cover your face, as you sweep your tears from your cheeks. But Mando already made his way over to you, crouching to meet you on the ground, grabbing your hands in his and placing a canteen in them instead.

“Drink. It’ll help.” He says in a soft hushed tone. You aren’t even sure where he got the canteen from, maybe it just happened to be near at the time, or he went back up to the ship in the time you were hurling… “Drink.” He repeats, interrupting your train of thought.

You unflask it with shaky hands and take a large swig, immediately feeling some relief from the burning sensation in your throat. “You need food as well.” He adds simply, grabbing your arms and heaving your dead weight off the ground as if it were nothing to him. After helping back to standing position, he turned toward his ship and made his way to the ramp. Before ascending, he turned back to you and finished his original thought, “Let’s see what rations you gathered for me. Come on.”

So, you make your way over to the ship, which is a task in itself as your legs felt as though they might give out at any moment.

“Wow,” you say in astonishment. You’d never seen a true cruiser like this. Any inter-planet hopper you’d taken to make your way to Nevarro had always been either completely basic and Imperial made, or a complete hunk of junk. And although you had nothing really to base it on, this ship was leagues ahead of anything you had experienced before. To think he got to spend all his time travelling the galaxy in a ship like this, all on his own. That was true adventure.

And you knew from the carbon scoring on the exterior that he had actually seen it. Excitement, danger, freedom. But the inside of this ship told a more complex story. You think that before it would have been simple. A weapons locker, a tiny sleeping quarter, a refresher, and not much else. The bare necessities for a man always in motion. No home. No attachments. But what you figured must have been new additions showed glimpses of a different man. A tiny hammock over the sleeping area, a small padded seat lifted to meet the height of a protruding shelf that almost resembled a dinner table, and what looked like makeshift toys strewn across the hull. All signs of another lifeform making itself comfortable on his ship and in his life.

“Here.” the Mandalorian grunted, breaking you from your daze, as he held out a ration stick to you. “Are you alright?”

“Well, I don’t feel as… vomitty, as before.” You start, now staring at the man in front of you, right where you figure - where you’re almost certain - his eyes are meeting yours. You think of his willingness to take care of you, twice tonight. Nothing added up. He was a complete mystery. Just when you thought you had him pinned, everything was suddenly flipped.

“That’s good, you just look a little out-of-it.” He said as he placed a hand on your shoulder, probably trying to steady you from whatever state you were in.

“Oh no, I’m just admiring the place.” You say, breaking eye contact to scan over the area again, taking in new details as you did so.

“Ha ha.” he says dryly, retracting his hand from you.

“No, I’m serious,” you reply sternly, offended that he would think so little of his own ship. “I’ve never seen anything like this, except for maybe in my dreams. I can’t imagine getting to fly in this every day. Or, oh maker! You get to see the stars in hyperspace, that was my favourite part! I only got to travel through hyperspace once. And, dank ferric, it was spectacular. Every other damn transport was sublight, not fun. Very slow, but generally cheaper, I guess. I’d kill to get to see that again” You could feel the excitement within you reach your face. A giant grin bursting out of you when you could no longer contain the joy within.

“Where were you travelling?” He questioned after examining your elation, and you could hear the genuine nature of his question, like he actually cared. Most people had never taken this much interest in your past.

“Oh, really anywhere I could. I just wanted to get away from, well, everything. My family, the war, my whole life. I tried to start over, but I didn’t get very far. Got stranded here, and I could never find the means to continue my journey.”

“Your journey?” He prompted, trying his best to stifle the laugh that followed.

“Yah okay that sounds a little ridiculous, but really I was just trying to find some excitement, something different. Just trying to find… something. It sounds dumb, I know, but I was so sick of my life, so when I had the opportunity to go, I went. I went everywhere I could afford, until I could barely afford food. So, I worked at that vendor for scraps until I saved enough to keep going, but I guess I never saved enough.”

“So, you’re still looking?’

“Huh?”

“You said you were looking to find something, but it doesn’t sound like you found it.”

“No. I haven’t. Not that I even know what I was looking for. But it seemed like one of those ‘you’ll know when you know’ things”

“Well, what if someone could take you away from Nevarro?” he questioned.

“Wouldn’t happen. I’ve got barely enough credits to buy bantha crap.”

“What if that person didn’t need credits, just company.”

The statement threw you. Suddenly you weren’t sure what Mando truly knew about your reputation. “Uhhh what kinda company, because I really don’t-”

“A friend.” He paused, making you wonder why he would propose such an idea, “A valuable one.”

And only then did the wires connect in your still-woozy brain. He was asking you to join him. Again. But this time as a friend. Someone he knew and trusted. Someone who he felt comfortable enough with to talk about his Creed with. And suddenly your heart stopped beating.

You could not – for the love of the Maker – mess this up again. But maybe you should make sure.

“Me?” you say while lazily pointing towards yourself for further clarification. “Mando are you asking me to join you two?”

“Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.” He says before making his way back out of the hull to finish packing the remnants of the supplies, apparently making the decision for you, as you definitely gave no answer. But it was the answer you wanted. A way out. An escape. And for kriffing sake, free.

As you stood, dumbstruck and alone, in the hull, you wondered just what it might be like. Getting to see some danger up close and personal. To see treacherous planets one week, then beautiful landscapes the next.

When Mando returned to the hull with the last of the supplies, only two words could escape your mouth, quieter and softer than you may have ever spoken before. “Thank you.”

Chapter 3

☆ I appreciate every like and comment so much, thank you all! And if you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know ☆

Taglist: @peppywitch @tobealostwanderer @thecraftyartist @ajeff855 @greatcircle79

Notes: In this chapter I say that the reader is “relatively attractive”. I’m not trying to single anyone out here or make you feel like you can’t be the reader if you don’t view yourself as attractive (because we are all fucking gorgeous anyway fuck societal norms). What I really mean to say is that like being a human looking person makes the reader more attractive than some alien-being might be (like weird alien species that would make up the general population of the more ‘outer rim’ planets she might be on). I was just trying to emphasize that she would be viewed as rare since young female humans wouldn’t normally populate those types of planets. Also, because the reader being female and kinda youngish will play a role later as I kinda touch on the dangers of the bounty hunter life and how the reader needs to navigate it.

[jkrobertson]

I was meant to add this in the other question but I forgot 🙃 thank you for answering as well. But do you think if Ulquiorra was still alive that something was bound to happen between him and Orihime ? I think their reunion would’ve been really beautiful and touching. It actually kinda reminds me of Damon and Elena in a way.

Okay... You are pushing me dangerously close to watching Vampire Diaries. I mean first there are all the sexy gifs on the internet, now you're comparing Damon and Elena to ulquihime... I need more free time.

Anyway, what happens if Ulquiorra lives?

Something, that's for sure. The thing that would determine the kind of the relationship between him and Orihime would be the same thing that has one of the greatest effects on any relationship: timing.

(long, rambling explanation under the cut)

If he came back quickly, like before the final arc or even during the time before We Do Knot Always Love You, I feel like it would have strong potential to turn romantic. The earlier he returns, the better the likelihood of success of Ulquihime being a real thing. Why? Well, part of it boils down to Ichigo.

Ichigo is the kind of boy who really has no time for girls. He has no mental energy to waste a thought on them. Sure, he cares for Orihime and has a special place in his heart for her, and he probably has urges and all the natural inclinations of boys who are interested in girls, but he leaves it there. He is busy getting other things done and proving himself to... himself. His kneejerk reaction is to push any concrete thoughts of romance or attraction as far away from his attention as possible.

In an interview in the JET artbook, Kubo mentions that Orihime and Ichigo did not start officially dating until after he graduated from university. I think ichihime is a very sweet and gentle ship, and once Ichigo makes his move at the end of We Do Know Always Love You, Orihime is kind of locked in on him. So Ulquiorra has until then to make his move.

So that explains Ulquiorra's window of opportunity. Now I want to talk about Orihime, prefacing this by making it clear that I really do believe that Orihime loves Ichigo in a real and pure way. Even if nothing romantic ever came to fruition between them, she would still love him. She would just adjust her expectations to be satisfied with whatever he was willing to offer her. If that means all he was ever willing to offer her was friendship, she would take it and take the necessary steps to adjust her expectations to conform to his boundaries. That's just part of growing up.

What we haven't talked about is how Orihime would change based on different circumstances than those set forth in canon.

So imagine, Orihime is quietly biding her time, patiently waiting for Ichigo to realize what his dick is for, and otherwise building stronger friendships between herself, him, and their supercool sidekicks. She's strengthening her powers, learning a lot about herself, and gaining self-confidence. She's having fun and saving the world. Her plate is pretty full.

Despite all this fulfilling growth, Orihime still faces a deep, overwhelming struggle with loneliness. She has grown up abused and neglected. Her darkest traumas have less to do with hollows and more to do with knowing her parents never loved her. She will always have anxiety gnawing at her, which won't be blunted until she feels like she has the kind of love that lasts forever.

Now, of course, she has her hopes pinned on good ol' Kurosaki-kun for this purpose, but that doesn't mean that no one could ever take his place. Also, I don't for one minute believe that Orihime is so pure of heart and innocent of mind that she doesn't think about sex and love (which she sees as two inseparable sides of the same coin insofar as it relates to her) any less than a typical teenager. To the contrary, I think she is probably more curious about it than most of her peers, in large part because of her trauma.

However, Orihime has not gotten to where she is - top three in her class, healthy, and maintaining her own household as a teenager on a small budget - if she wasn't mature and world-wise for her age. She doesn't always come across that way, but she knows how to manage her needs and wants. She also knows how to keep a healthy distance between herself and those who might want to take advantage of her, because, let's face it, she could be a very easy target.

This is why, in Bleach canon, no one ever got between her and Ichigo. Because although she had a lot of admirers, none of them were worth her consideration. None of them had history with her. None of them understood her special powers. None of them knew her weaknesses and traumas. Only her small circle of supernatural besties knew her well enough and had enough of her trust to consider a relationship with, and of those three boys, Orihime was only attracted to Ichigo. Besides, Ishida and Chad would never think to get in between Orihime and Ichigo.

But Ulquiorra would.

If he returned, he would need her. He would provide her with the attention she craves and the fascination that gives her the confidence she would need to turn her attention away from Ichigo. She would not be able to deny that she and Ulquiorra share a strength of connection on par with that of her and her nakama.

She would hesitate for a only a moment before deciding to do whatever she could to assist Ulquiorra in adjusting to his new life. It would be a very significant reunion, initially, but then reality would creep in.

Ulquiorra requires work to find a place in his new reality. Orihime is not afraid of hard work, but undertaking Ulquiorra's rehabilitation would not be all sunshine and roses. He doesn't just follow her advice like some kind of lost puppy, either. He can be stubborn and confrontational. She would be forced to examine and explain things she takes for granted.

This process would make her question much of her previous beliefs, just as he questioned his beliefs about the heart when they were together in Hueco Mundo. He would make her feel like she had value in her ability to teach him things about the world.

Although he would not bicker or put her down for sport, he would frustrate and challenge her. He would make her assert herself. It would reignite the chemistry between them that she was too terrified in Hueco Mundo to recognize.

Orihime would focus on Ulquiorra so much that she would not notice her attention drifting away from Ichigo until it was too late. By that time, she would realize that Ichigo is not the be-all-end-all romantic target she had previously thought.

When she eventually realizes she is attracted to Ulquiorra, it would not be a spark, it would be spontaneous combustion. They wouldn't spend a lot of time being cute and flirting and wooing one another. She would realize that she wants him, and it would happen pretty fast. I feel like either she would make a first tentative move and he would reciprocate, or it would just be like a mutual realization and he would make a move and she would just melt into it and match his energy.

I think both Orihime and Ulquiorra don't really have a clear idea of love and sex as separate concepts. She would conflate the two as one thing, and he really doesn't conceptualize either of them, rather just experiences them and then later accepts them as a singular expression. Their relationship would be very, very physical. Over time they would both start to appreciate the more delicate and complex flavors of both love and sex, and would begin to enjoy just being affectionate and quiet companionship and all the other lovely parts of being in a relationship.

I think that if they were able to reproduce, they would find themselves relatively young parents, because they can't keep their hands to themselves and would let passion carry them away in the heat of the moment. Ulquiorra would be obnoxiously proud to have successfully made a new life with "the woman".

I could go on and on and on about these two. I'll stop here for now, but feel free to ask anything else!

[redinkofshame]

Arranged Marriage

Hipster AU did not spark joy, so I used the Arranged Marriage joker for day 3 of the @augustwritingchallenge. This is probably the last one I’ll do, unless I also do an arranged marriage for Cedric/Cassandra. It’s also my favorite one :D

The evanuris have survived to the dragon age, Fen'Harel included amongst them. In order to make peace with the free clans of elves a marriage is arranged between the Trickster and one of their own. Like all of Solas' plans, it goes awry.

1882 words, mature for smexiness but no actual hanky panky. Read on AO3

Wedding Night

“You still intend to go through with this, then?” Mythal asked.

Fen’Harel sighed, eyeing her reflection from where he stood surrounded by attendants. They made last minute adjustments to his wedding vestiments, buffed his nails, applied cosmetics. “I gave my word, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but even you must admit you have a proclivity for… last minute ‘tricks’. We must make peace with the free clans—”

“Easiest done with a marriage, and I am the only one amongst us who is yet unmarried, yes, I know,” he said, biting his tongue. He knew better than the rest of them how important this was; they continued to underestimated the power of the free clans.

“It’s merely surprising that you haven’t proposed some other crazy solution to avoid being tamed. You’ve been the lone wolf, all alone all these ages…”

He shooed away his attendants and sunk into the nearest chair. His hair dresser immediately made her move, beginning the bothersome process of brushing, curling, and braiding. An annoyance. A necessity. Long hair; the status symbol of a spoiled man who, supposedly, knew nothing of hard work, nor manual labor. No more a threat than a bunch of unaligned clans who could scarcely produce mages.

That is, of course, until he used this marriage to forge an alliance with his spouse’s people. The final key to in his plot to take down the Evanuris once and for all.

“All good things must come to an end,” he said with feigned disinterest. “Remind me the name of who I’m to wed again? That man from the garden with the curly hair?”

Mythal gave him a scathingly admonishing look. “Really, Fen, the least you could do is remember your intended’s name.” She kept up the look for another moment but when he gave no response she simply sighed. “You’re thinking of the ambassador they sent to announce that your bride was chosen by vote of the free clans at Arlathven.”

“She is important to them, then? A powerful mage?” he asked hopefully.

Mythal snorted. “Hardly. They say she has some skill with the arcane, but she’s better known for her sewing— no, embroidery.” He grunted in disappointment and she continued, almost to herself. “She’s no particular beauty, either. I can’t image she’s the best they’ve got to offer. Frankly, I’m tempted to take offense at the offering, but we already granted them permission to choose for themselves…”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It hardly matters what she looks like, so long as they care for her enough to lay down their arms.”

“I suppose. Her name is Keria, by the way, of Lavellan’s clan. Do try to remember it during the ceremony.” He felt her eyes on him, but kept his head bowed as his hair was adorned with golden toggles. “You know that you will have to gift her with her vallaslin during the ceremony as well.”

“Of course.”

Mythal stepped closer and lowered her voice. “A true vallaslin, Fen’Harel.”

The girl working his hair froze. He didn’t have to look at her to know that she, as all his servants, his “slaves”, wore a convincing imitation of his vallaslin on her face. He’d marked each of them with enough magic to keep them safe from the others, but it held none of the controlling or manipulation that a true vallaslin held.

He saw to it that his people followed him voluntarily, not due to fear or power. Many of them were agents of his grand plan playing a role until it was time to strike at the heart of their oppressors.

None of which Mythal was supposed to know, of course.

He met her eyes. “I understand.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, a silent threat, gauging his sincerity. At last, she nodded.

~~~~~

He remembered the name, of course, the ceremony lines, and the spell to apply a proper vallaslin to her pale face in front of everyone. Mythal’s assessment had been harsh — she was pretty enough. Her unruly black hair was short, of course, as was her place. He supposed she would grow it out, now. Her eyes were a shockingly bright blue, when he could get a good look at them, but she largely kept them averted. Her gown was a work of art. The cut of it was common enough, classic, but every inch of it was covered in painstaking embroidery. Her doing?

Not that her beauty mattered; he cared only whether or not she would become his willing ally in their fight, or if he’d have to use her new position as leverage. He’d expected her to fear him as the clans always did — with good reason. He was Mythal’s general, the attack dog she released whenever they stepped out of line or needed to be taught a lesson. At first he thought her unwillingness to meet his eyes was because she was afraid, or worse, because she loathed him. He would not hold it against her.

Surprisingly it was shy glances and flustered smiles he was met with. A blushing bride indeed.

The day was filled with much pomp and posturing, dancing and music and feasting and well-wishers and veiled insults and vague threats. Elgar’nan and the others were jumpy, so certain he was going to ruin this for them that they never considered it had been his idea to begin with. It was many hours before he and his new wife were able to retreat to his suite.

Or ‘their’ suite, he supposed, though he’d happily grant her separate chambers if she requested it. His rooms were plenty large enough for the two of them, but he didn’t relish the loss of this ability to move freely.

He left her for a moment upon entering to get familiar with the space as he stepped into the dressing chamber. He sighed in the relative privacy.

It was fortunate that Keria seemed to be a willing — perhaps eager — partner in this charade, but thus far she seemed too timid of a girl to bring honestly into his machinations. It would take some time to discern best how to proceed from here. In the mean time it was his wedding night…

He was certainly willing to bed her, but he would not press the issue. They needed to discuss rules and freedoms, what would be asked of her and what would not. What she could ask of him. He striped out of his vestiments and pulled on a pair of simple sleep pants. He did not bother with a shirt. He stepped back into the room.

“I think we should discuss our expectations…” He tailed off, not seeing her immediately. He found her in the dimly lit bedchamber, sitting on her heels at the end of the oversized bed, sheets pooling around her hips. She was naked except for the sash from her wedding gown tied loosely about her waist. When she saw him enter she raised to her knees, spread wide, and the blanket fell from her lap, exposing her fully. Her teasing smile beckoned him closer.

Well, then.

All thoughts of planning left him as his blood spiked, and he went to her. He stopped when he stood at the edge of the bed, inches from her, and pointedly looked her offering up and down. He reevaluated his own underestimation of her beauty.

“Lovely…” he murmured. His hand dropped and she arched her back in anticipation, her nipples tight, but it was the tail of the embroidered sash he took. “Did you make it yourself?”

To his surprise he laughed and shoved him playfully, illiciting a snort from him. “I did, in fact.” He ran his thumb over the intricate stitches and she shifted her weight nervously. “Do you, um, know a lot about embroidery?”  

“I don’t know much of the textile arts, I’m afraid,” he admitted, letting the silk slip through his fingers. “Perhaps you could teach me.”

She smiled coquettishly. “Oh, there’s a great deal I could teach you, Fen’Harel.” She sensually unknotted the sash.

He forced his eyes up to hers, determined to seem unaffected. “And here I thought I was wed to someone sweet and innocent.”

“Sweet? Sometimes. But innocent?” Keria flipped the sash up and over his head, where it settled like a scarf. “Certainly not.”

She tugged the ends of the sash and pulled him in for a kiss and he went easily, intrigued by this woman. He felt the brush of her lips but didn’t realize in time that she whispered an incantation, though his eyes flickered open just in time to see the hidden runes among the embroidered flowers light up, paralyzing him instantly. Her hand dashed beneath the covers and came up with a dagger that she plunged towards his chest.

The vallaslin on her face lit up as he activated it and staggered back, spell broken. She was frozen in place, mid-strike. His heart hammered in his chest in a way it hadn’t in decades, a mortal danger he rarely faced unwittingly.

No mortal blade could hurt him, but she would know that. Still shaken, he wrenched the dagger from her hand, careful not to nick either of them as she grunted, struggling to break free. He appraised the weapon, recognizing it easily even without the ravens in the hilt. It indeed would have been able to kill him, and was undoubtedly coated in enough poison to finish the job even if her aim ad been off. Smart.

“Dirthamen sent you, then?”

She still fought her bindings. He released her just enough that she could answer his question. “Yes.”

He tilted his head. She’d answered too quickly. He could see her tells, now that he knew what she really was. “A lie. Interesting. I’m only supposed to believe it was him.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” snarled his darling wife.

“Ah, a fair point. Me, murdered on my wedding night, and Dirthamen to blame. To what end?” She answered by spitting at him and he paced as he thought it over, able to see how it would have played out — Mythal would exact justice before Elgar’nan could stop her, and Dirthamen’s twin would retaliate. The rest of the evanuris would choose sides. War, distrust, ample opportunity for more little assassinations.

A simple enough plan. One that damn near worked.

He lifted the dagger and it hovered in the air between them. With a twist of his hand he rendered the shining, poisonous thing inert, watching as it turned dull and clattered uselessly to the floor.

Keria looked like she was ready to tear him apart with her teeth instead. “It doesn’t matter what you do with me,” she growled. “Others will succeed where I have failed. You cannot stop us all! Your days are numbered, Dread Wolf — you and every other evil, murderous, slaving evanuris!”

Wordlessly he walked to a wardrobe, feeling her eyes following him as she waited for him to strike her down. How much of her shaking was from anger, he wondered, and how much from fear?

He pulled out a dressing robe and turned back to his bride, every inch of her radiating defiance despite the hold he still had on her.

He tossed her the robe. “Get dressed, vhenan. We need to talk.”

[ohrightgaypeople]

Chapter 369

I have so much to say... As someone who's being accompanying this series since almost the beginning, this feels like the type of chapter that made me fall deeply in love with this Manwa.

So if I stretch this too long, please bear with me!

Mo Guan Shan is my favorite character - and at lot of others in the fandom as well. To me, he incorporates what 19 Days was like on the beginning. Many people entered the series not knowing much about it; from a surface level, it wasn't even that appealing. We met Mo like we met the Manwa, with not many expectations. Like we were all He Tian and didn't think much of them. But, as the Tain himself, we all learned to love and worship this work.

Now, though? We've been seeing the gentleness, drive and hard work behind his actions. We see the kid who's grown up too fast and too violently. And this is mirrored in the series itself. The amount of dedication Old Xian puts into the comic is venerable! And seeing this character finally open up about his troubles is breathtaking!

He is, ultimately, a representation of what I think 19 Days thematic is about (and, interestingly enough, my favorite theme) witch is the Loss Of Youth. Is yet another "growing up" number, with a dark tone to emphasise it's message. But what's so unique about and what many others of it genre fail at, but they succeeded is the humanity.

Growing up stories with grotesque and edginess seem easy to make, yet they are far from that. But 19 Days doesn't commit the error of a lot of others do; this brutality isn't for show or a fake sense of "maturity"; it's to showcase what many fail to represent:

"Would you believe me?"

This seemly innocent phrase brings everything 19 Days is in a line! It's humanity.

Here we have a child who's been discredited his whole life, treated like a criminal from a young age and tortured in silence for years. A kid who's violent outbursts are a pushback from fear, allowing himself to show vulnerability once more, but finally voice every pain, every ache to someone he trusts.

Because he wouldn't have done it if he didn't trust He Tian.

I said that last chapter changed a perception of Tian we had before; that his possessiveness came from his entitled upbringing and abandonment issues, but Ox showed us it was not.

It was from fear.

From not being able to protect who he loves the most. And now? Now we see that deconstruction on Mo, as well. All that aggression, the hesitancy on trust, the infamous pride, wasn't a rouse from low self-esteem.

It was from fear.

Of not being believed by those who he loves and cherishes. And that's what all this edge and darkness are meant for. All this pain to show the loss of youth is to give and tie or empathy and understanding to the most basic an human emotions.

Love and fear.

It is equally as perfect that they first oficial kiss was right now. After the humility of letting someone in to help, the braveness of showing vulnerability and the answer to most, if not all, bumps of life.

Growing up is scary. Doing it alone? That's even worse. So many novels go on and on without really allowing the characters the flaws and hurt that being human encompasses. That's what separates 19 Days from so many other works to me! The ability to put real troubles and let the people on the story feel feelings about them. No putting them on pedestals; making them untouchable; not giving them the consequences. I greatly appreciate Old Xian for that.

But above that, I love that Ox also gives the answer to the issue as it is. The solution to every Loss of Youth stories are the same. As humans, we need each other to live, and to grow, and go and beyond. We can't do it alone. It's why having such an important moment closed by tenderness, is just about the best measure.

Because living is fun! And is worth all that you go through.

But not alone.

Never alone.

Tradução: @alexc1ting

[snorlaxlovesme]

full thoughts on the chaos walking movie? I want to hear more about it lol I haven’t seen it yet

it just...it felt like TKONLG but without EVERY GOOD PART, you know?

scene-wise, the closest individual scene we had to anything in the book was maybe the scene where Viola read Todd’s mother’s book to him? (even that wasn’t the same bc that was also the scene where we find out he’s illiterate, and he lets her read it right away, so there was no deep-rooted embarrassment about not being able to read). also it happened in Farbranch. BUT, like it captured the emotion of the OG scene a little, where Viola is reading to Todd and he’s hearing his ma’s words and getting emotional about it.

but all the stand-out scenes from the book, i.e. saying goodbye to Ben and Cillian, meeting the girl and getting hit in the head with a branch and bandaging her anyway, ALL of the Aaron fights, the bridge, the massacre of Farbranch, the song of Here, the Spackle, Todd’s illness, the waterfall scene, Haven, NONE of that was in the movie. so imagine all the really important and powerful moments gone

also all the overarching themes? those are gone too. todd becoming a man is  HUGE deal in the books. even in his horrible awful town he just wants to feel like he BELONGS and he’s the one person in the entire town being ostracized. two of the biggest secrets in Todd’s whole world are kept from him for the majority of the book because he’s “not yet a man”. it’s important to him. and once todd realizes the connection between Prentisstown maturity and murder, he spends the rest of that book WISHING he could be a killer. wishing he could have that kind of strength and seeing himself weak for not being able to kill. 

all of that?? gone. movie!Todd often chants the familiar “I am Todd Hewitt” (and sometimes “be a man”) when he’s nervous or trying to cover something in his Noise, and has a little tiff with Ben and Cillian at the beginning of the movie bc the Mayor sees Todd as a man while Ben and Cillian do not. (that’s a weird little bit though bc the movie never really explains why the Mayor had such an interest in Todd). but that’s about it in terms of coming-of-age material in the movie. and about murder. seeing as he doesn’t. kill. the. Spackle. let that sink in.

also like. the Noise is shown as a CONCEPT but not as a theme. the THEME of Noise is that, and I quote

“In this world of information overload, the ability to feel, my boy, is a rare gift indeed.”

or perhaps

“Knowing a man’s thoughts ain’t knowing a man.”

or even

“Knowledge is dangerous and men lie and the world changes, whether I want it to or not.”

in this movie, Noise would be described as like. a nuisance at worst and a superpower at best. you can hear most of every man’s thoughts in the movie, though not a constant, never ending stream. just just bits sporadically at either plot-convenient or comedic times. the Mayor (and at one point Ben, and at one point Todd) uses his Noise to construct illusions around people kind of similar to that Jake Gyllenhaal villain in Spiderman: Far From Home. 

but neither of these two main examples really SHOW the themes that Patrick Ness showed us in the books. that Noise is powerfully ANNOYING; that it can quickly break down relationships between groups of people; that it can be manipulated making large lies still possible.

like, remember when in the books, Todd and Viola get to Farbranch and poor Todd is absolutely GOBSMACKED that 1. the women are ALIVE and 2. the men and women are living together?? in harmony?? what the eff?? and you see Hildy in Tam’s Noise and just how much they genuinely love each other and Todd is like “damn we ain’t in Prentisstown anymore Manchee”. and you can just see based on the contrast that Prentisstown people are a whole different breed compared to the kindness of Farbranch?

in the movie Todd has a few moments of inner dialogue where he’s like “oh man that’s a woman. that’s nuts” and then we move on. his world should be turned upside down here and its not. and the difference between the two towns is that they kinda just made it seem like, yeah, Noise is annoying so we have the men sleep separately from the women so we all get a little peace, and it’s fine. that’s how Farbranch deals with it. it all just feels very blasé 

(i can’t remember specifically where this happens, probably either in Farbranch or cutting back to the Prentisstown men getting ready to march, but at some point a leader ends up saying something to a crowd of people and you can see how just one sentence spreads through an entire group of men and how they all start amplifying it and getting more and more panicked and i did think the mob mentality was cool. it reminded me of the beginning of The Ask and the Answer were the Mayor is addressing the citizens of Haven and you get that moment where the whole crowd flinches over the words of one man.)

and in all of this I’ve barely mentioned Viola. my wonderful girl. how they’ve massacred her story. god.

all of Viola’s development for the first half of the book is tanked from the start bc you SEE the crash, you see her stealing food from Ben and Cillian’s house (that’s the inciting incident of the movie), she talks to the Mayor in Prentisstown almost immediately after Todd finds her and his Noise helps everyone locate her, she talks to Todd a lot before getting to Farbranch after they escape Prentissown. the book does a LOT of work for Viola by having her mute and scared for the beginning and slowly showing how she comes to trust Todd. and how even after their incessent bickering in Farbranch they still choose to escape together because they know the army is after them specifically and they’re all the other has. that progression is really important in the book, as well as afterwards when we see how snarky Viola can actually be when speaking, how she thinks this entire planet is BACKWARDS and she can’t wait til her ship comes and shows them a thing or two about how to live.

movie Viola, well. she wants to find a way to communicate with her ship. she’s under the impression that since her scout ship crashed they’re gonna assume she’s dead and leave her behind. even though the Mayor brings up the settlers a lot after he learns about them, Viola curiously never really brings them up in any other context besides they need to come and get her. like it really made it sound like she planned on calling them, having them scoop her, and then they’d all just fucking leave, i guess. i don’t know what her end goal was besides CALLING HER PEOPLE which became the main point of the movie. the Mayor trying to find Todd and Viola so he could....use her to contact the ship?? that was also kind of unclear. and Viola trying to get to a communicator possibly so she could get the hell out of dodge. idk if that was her actual plan, but it was certainly what Todd was thinking, enough to where I was wondering if he was going to sabotage her mission in order to force her to stay (yeah. yeah. he had that energy about him and it was grosss)

and quickly, since all the animals couldn’t talk the way they do in the book, Manchee was more of a cute prop than anything. i could have gotten over it if he was useful in any way, but he never even like attacked a dude to save Todd or anything like that. so when he died it was sad on a dog-level but not a character level, since besides sitting next to Viola like twice while she cried he really added nothing to the story. also the shock of animal death was greatly reduced already since Todd’s horse that he used to escape Prentisstown from got a broken leg after he rode him off a cliff, so Todd used the knife (off-screen, thank god) to put him down. so Manchee getting killed was kind of lessened a little since my man Whiskey got nixed like 40 min earlier in the film.

this is getting long so I’ll cut it here since I’m gonna probably post about this a thousand more times. but yeah. if you watched it completely divorced from the books you would probably think “that was a cool concept but also what was the point of any of that” which is basically what most people thought based on the review headlines i’ve read. and if you are an avid book fan you’re gonna think you’re watching something else entirely.