#when i find a fc for him and said assistant it's over for me

[nocityfolk]

brainstorming an oc who's made a career out of interviewing & debunking the paranormal/supernatural/the weird & wacky on a late-night talk show, but is actually an immortal trickster god fabricating the show and its guests for his own amusement. also he's pathetically in love with his loyal human assistant who has no idea about any of it & has never realised there's anything even slightly off about him

[planetpedri]

Can you write hector fort x FC Barcelona intern reader where she's talking with her supervisor in the area the boys are training and Hector got interested in her, then she and the supervisor go talk w the boys and Hector start showing her his interest for her. (sorry for my bad english😭)

Only angel — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Héctor first saw you, he swore you looked just like an angel.

Word count: 980+

Disclaimer/s: fluff , reader is a sports photographer intern + the supervisor is made a up person (oc sort of) !

A/N: haven’t written for Héctor in a while so hi!! this was lame and bummy asf but whatever..

Walking through the quiet halls that lead around Ciutat Esportiva building, you take a peak into one of the open doors. Luckily for you, it held just the person you were searching for.

“María?” You call out, pressing a hand onto the wooden door and pushing it open further. “It’s me.”

The dark haired woman glances up from her desk, smiling at the sight of you. “Oh! Good! You found me, I was beginning to wonder wear you were.”

María was a friend of your aunts, so when she found out about your interest in sports and photography, she offered you an internship. It’d made your year, and today was your first official day.

“Yeah, I got a little… lost.” You chuckle, closing the door behind you. Finding a seat in front of her desk, you clasp your hands together. “Where do we start?”

María’s eyebrow lifts, amusement flashing across her face. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“Very.” You nod vigorously, “and a little nervous.”

Standing up, she grabs her camera and another, “this one’s for you.” She beckons for you to grab it, which you do with wide eyes.

“Oh wow.” You exhale, “this is.. thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now, let’s go meet the team, shall we?”

The walk up to the field was, well—it took a lot of breathing. The stairs had nearly winded you. Brushing a few pieces of hair from your face and straightening your shirt, you take a look around. Your eyes landed on a lot of different people.

It was hard not to be in awe seeing the players of your favorite team only feet away from you, live in action. María, beside you, watched you with a smile. “Impressed?”

“Very.” You laugh.

Twenty feet away from you stood Héctor Fort, his eyes trained on you curiously. Leaning to his left, he nudged Pau. “Who’s that?” He asks, pointing in your direction.

Pau followed his line of sight, shrugging when he didn’t recognize you. “No clue. But if she’s with María, i’m assuming family or maybe an assistant.” He glances at his friend, who was still staring. He smirks, “chill out, you don’t know how old she is.”

“Why would you say that?” Héctor gasps, swatting the back of Pau’s head. His friend laughs, jogging away from him.

Héctor’s eyes look back to you, his heart skipping a beat as you laughed at something María said. You looked like an angel with the sun shining down on you as your smile brightened.

When it came time for their water break, María leads you to the group. You followed her, nervously fidgeting with the straps that held her camera securely around her neck. “Boy’s!” The woman called out, waving to get their attention.

Hansi Flick, their coach, turned to face you first. He says something to the team, which you couldn’t hear, but it has their rowdiness turning into calm behavior.

“I’d like you to meet my new intern,” María introduces you, and in turn, the guys all say their ‘hello’s’. “She’ll be working alongside me and when i’m gone, she’ll take my place. Please be kind to her.”

Your lips had formed a pursed lipped smile while nerves wracked your body. It was awkward having so many eyes, much less all men’s eyes, on you.

Once that humiliation ritual was over, you found a seat on the sidelines where María suggested you sat while she ran back to her office to grab a few more supplies.

You snapped pictures here and there, not realizing you’d focus on one person in specific. Héctor Fort. He was your age, your friend’s favorite player, and he was cute—very photogenic.

You were clicking through the photos you’d taken, deleting the bad ones and smiling proudly at the good ones. You failed to notice when a shadow came over you, too enthralled in your camera.

“Hello?” A deep voice spoke above you, nearly scaring you. Nearly.

Snapping your head up, you come face to face with the man who belong to the picture you were just looking at. “Oh! Hey! Sorry, I didn’t notice you! Do you need something?”

Héctor shrugs, “just wanted to introduce myself. I’m—“

“Héctor.” You force a quick smile, “I know.”

A faint flush spreads across his cheeks. “Right. I suppose you would.” His eyes drift down to your camera, “is that me?”

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Uhm, yeah. I was taking individual pictures while I wait for María.” There’s a beat of silence, in which you realize he’s waiting to see it in full. “Oh! Here.” You take the strap off around your neck and diligently hand the camera to him.

Heart spreads across your hands when his fingers graze yours. He examines the picture, an impressed look passing over his expression. “Wow, this is.. really good.”

You laugh, “it’s really not that impressive. But, thank you anyways.” A sense of pride swells in your chest, his approval meaning more to you than he might have known.

“Could you send it to me?”

Blinking at him stupidly, you don’t catch onto the fact that he wanted you to send it to his number. “Sure! I can have María email it to you.”

Héctor suppressed a smirk, your obliviousness only made you all the cuter. “I meant send it to me, personally. As in, my number.”

Oh! Oh, right. Because he definitely wasn’t lowkey asking for your number.

“For sure, yeah. Like, me? Or, María..” You trail off. You sounded silly stumbling over your words so hard.

“After practice, find me. I’ll give you my number.” He smiles, “it was nice meeting you,” he says your name, and the way it rolled off his tongue so smoothly had your heartbeat stuttering.

“You too.” You force out, waving goodbye to him as he walks away. You were really starting to love this internship.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future héctor posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Can you do with family and friends on with gavi broke things off w reader because it was too much and he loved her so much but got scared of love and broke up with her but reader was having a fashion show and Barca got tickets and when gavi found out he wanted to go and beg for you and everyone went to go get you back because they know how much he needed you but you were kinda hesitant to except returning back with him

Loved this request! I got kinda confused at the end, because of the mixed words but I got it after reading it a few times🥴🤭

(Influencer!Reader)

Work For It -P.G

Summary: He left and now he wants to be back...

Being a famous influencer had it's pros and it's cons. You try to always keep up with positive mind and change the negativity to positivity. And sometimes works, sometimes it doesn't.

One of the cons, is that you're always on the spotlight. You can't go out because you have a camera up to your face or fans screaming your name walking besides you trying to get their phones, markers and pictures into you. You basically have to create ways and manage yourself to have a private life.

The other of many cons, is that you almost never have time free. You're always doing something but you kinda like that because it keeps you active, so... Why not?

But being a huge influencer in Barcelona and you being a die-hard Barcelona fan means that the FC Barcelona wanted you to, kind of, promote them, use their newest jerseys, go to the matches and met the players.

Meanwhile that was the greatest thing for you because you are a fan, it was also one of the worst because you fell in love with one of them and two years later, broke up.

But how could you have been stupid enough to fall for the Golden Boy, Pablo Gavi?

He had swept you off of your feet with his charming smile, his sassy and messy attitude, joking around until he at least got one smile from you and then he just left you claiming that "It was too much", "I love you but I can't do this. Not to me and mostly not to you", "You deserve better" and simply just disappeared from your house, from your view and from your life.

So, seeing him, after almost a whole year in the fashion show you were in, along with the guys and a few WAGS, your whole stomach and body turned upside down

"What is he doing here?" You asked to your assistant and best friend, Michelle

"Do you forget that you and the Barcelona team are still connected? I believe the team gave them some tickets for the event" She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

"You would've known that"

"Mikky was also invited, she could've been the one giving them the tickets" She said shrugging her shoulders "I know you don't want him around you, I'll make sure of that but you can't avoid him forever. It's time for you to pass the page and move on"

"That's the thing, Elle" You sighed "I can't seem to"

Yeah, you were still head over heels for the guy that left you without a good reason. You hated it, you hated yourself for that because as much as you wanted to, you couldn't erase those brown eyes and that sweet smile that once was directed to you with warmth, love and care.

"Maybe" She began "This is the clousure you need to keep on with your life and let him be just a nice part of your past" She shrugged her shoulders once more "C'mon, cariño. You gotta pose for the cameras and look pretty"

You smiled a bit at her words and made your way to the carpet, you soothed once more your outfit and plastered a smile, everything was going great until you felt someone tap your shoulder and when you turn around you find no one other than Pedri and Ansu.

"Hola" You said hugging him quickly

"Hola. It's nice to see you after so long" You nod at Ansu

"Bueno..." You shrugg your shoulders a little "What can I say?" The three of you laughed

"You look nice"

"Thanks, Pedri. You do too" He blushes

"Mind if we take some pics together? I miss my friend" You sighed, when Gavi cut all connections with you, you made sure to cut connections with all of them too, barely talking to the WAGs but other than that, no one else from their group.

"Sorry. It's not that easy" You said passing an arm around each boy's waist and pull them for pics

"I bet it isn't... It wasn't easy for him either" Ansu said

"Oh my god!! You're here!!" You heard a femenine voice call and soon a body collide with yours. Mikky. The four of you got out of the carpet and you smiled returning her hug "You're looking absolutely beautiful, I was waiting to see you! I missed you so much!!"

"You were also invited?"

"Of course I was" She pushed her hair back and you both laughed

"I missed you too, Miks" You hug her once more and from behind her you saw Alejandro, Torre, Ferran, Frenkie, Ousmane, Ter Stegen, Robert, Raphina, their wives/girlfriends and lastly Pablo. "And you managed to get almost Barca's whole squad tickets? I need you to tell me that secret because I can barely ask for a plus one" She laughed

"I told them about the show and I think it was Gavi who asked for the tickets, he was so desperate to get them" You raise your eyebrows as Pedri coughs

"Was he?" You turn to Pedri and Ansu, who simply nodded

"Look, babes... I know you two broke it off-"

"He was the one who broke it off, it wasn't me" You said shaking your head at Mikky

"He hasn't been the same without you, Y/N" Pedri said "It still affects him"

"Then if it does, why he did it?"

"He was scared" Ansu said as you laugh

"Scared?" You shook your head "I was scared too but you didn't see me breaking things up, I loved him Ansu and it completely hurted me when he just throw us to the dead line"

"Please, just listen-"

"If you guys came here for me to go back with him, you are in the wrong" You shook your head "You're welcomed to be with me if we don't talk about him, but if you're going to do that then I'll make my exit and wish all of you the best" You said as the rest of the guys approached

"Something's wrong?" Robert asked

You shook your head, smiling softly "I was just leaving" You waved at them and left in the opposite direction

You heard footsteps behind you and you could guess who was the one but still you didn't turned around until you were heading towards the bathrooms inside of the venue

"Can you stop speed walking?" He asked and you shook your head "We need to talk"

"I have nothing to talk to you, Gavi" You said and seconds later saw him standing in front of you blocking your way "Move"

"No"

"Please, move"

"We need to talk"

"You said everything you wanted to say a year ago, I'm done with that"

"But I'm not, Y/N. I'm serious"

"So am I..." For the first time in the night you looked at him in the eyes and sighed looking away before falling into its beauty once more "It was nice seeing you again, Pablo. But I think it's time to let it go, we're just nice strangers with nice memories in common" You moved around him and sending him a one last smile you started walking off

"I don't want to be a simple stranger for you" You managed to hear and you sighed

Neither you wanted him to be but that's what he had decided.

Two hours had passed from that little encounter you had with him and haven't seen him since that moment again, you were sat with your manager and Michelle, your best friend and assistant when she sighed

"What's wrong?" You ask

"Pedri, Ansu and Alejandro are coming" She said "Want me to back them off?" You roll your eyes turning around

You were about to open your mouth when Ansu beat you to it

"Look, I know you probably don't want to see us and you don't want us to talk about him" His strong response had you shocked "and we obviously aren't him to say what exactly went through his mind at the moment of breaking up with you"

"But what we do know is the fact he has been a completely mess because of it" Alejandro said "He's shit at practice and shit out of it. We thought that with time he would get over it, but it's been a year and you're still on his mind and nothing has changed, he still has your birthday picture as his lockscreen and he tries to hide the fact that he goes through your messages, sometimes I find him crying in the shower and other times he's sadly looking at pictures of you two. We can't see him like that anymore and we bet you are exactly the same when no one's around"

"We certainly don't know what he said to fuck what you guys had but he's definitely regretting it. That night of your break up, he came straight to my apartment to cry and kept on asking: "Why did I did that?" over and over again. I never understood what he meant by that until he finally told me that he didn't felt worthy of your love, that he was scared, there was so much going on for him, you knew it and you acted on it but he didn't wanted to feel like he was a burden, he didn't wanted to put any more preassure on your shoulders, his fans were hating on you and he couldn't bear to see you sad because of it. A lot of external facts were the ones who pushed him to make that decision" Pedri said

"But he still checks his phone for you everyday, he sometimes says: "She'll be doing this" or "she'd love this". He doesn't go out with his friends anymore, he basically stopped being that little ray that fucked us up with his moody attitude sometimes" Ansu said making the four of you laugh "We don't say you have to forgive him, we are just asking, for a friend's well being, for you to clear things up and be on the right side"

"You can still be friends, you can go back to what you guys had or simply just not be anything... And that's okay. We just want, for both of you, because you are our friend as well, the best in everysingle aspect possible"

Your eyes danced in between the three youngmen

"Where is he?" You ask whispering, feeling a knot in your throat

"He left"

You nodded, turning around you grabbed your purse and smiled at them "Thank you" They smiled and you hugged them, walking off.

You went into the car that brought you here and told them Pablo's direction. You started biting your nails nervous, why didn't he had said anything from that to you? Were you really still on his phone lockscreen? Does he still loves you, just like you love him after all this time?

You quickly thanked the man and left the car, you pushed your thumb into the gates and it opened, you going straight to his door which you banged over and over again until he opened

"¿Qué-?"

"Gimme your phone, please"

"What? Why?" You shook your head

"Please, gimme your phone, I need to check something" He shook his head as you quickly took it from his hands and saw the lockscreen.

It was both of you, on your 19th birthday party, you smiled before feeling the phone being grabbed away by an angry Pablo

"Why have you done that?"

"Why you still have that pic as a lockscreen?"

"You don't care about it"

"If I'm asking you is because I do"

Silence flowed in between the two of you

"Gimme the real reason why you broke up with me" You shook your head feeling the tears coming up "I don't buy the half assed bullshit, I want the complete thing"

He stood in silence

"How do you know?"

"Why? We were so good, so in love"

"I had a lot of things coming on me, I was stressed, I wasn't playing great, I didn't wanted to transfer my worries and my problems to you, because you had a lot of those for yourself. I kept pushing you away without wanting to, I was and am so in love with you it fucking hurts! My fans were sending you hate, all of that combined made me think I wasn't good for you, fuck, I was so scared of fucking it up but I still did it!" He looked up to the sky, his voice was trembling and his shoulders were shaking. He was crying. "And I hate me for it, all this time we could've been together and we aren't because I let my insecurities get the best of me"

"But we can work on them, we can work on this, on us" You said "I'm not willing to let you go, Pablo. I want us. But you need to work for it because I'm not ready to go through another heartbreak"

"I will, mi amor" You hugged his waist and he pulled you closer to him, kissing your hairline "I will make us work"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

[droppingpetals]

desperately in the need of these plots . i am here to beg for some new partners over on discord . i have a few very specific plots i'd like to do with my girls , they've all been written out as m/f but could easily be spun into f/f plots too , the point just being that i get to use more of my girls for once ! i've written them all out under the read more - button <3

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 if any of these plots interest you and i'll slide into your dms <3

CONTENTS : crime and mafia elements , gentleman's club , forbidden relationship , long pining , jealousy , sneaking around — give me a plot with a man who works for some sort of crime ring and he's been put in charge of running one of their estates . said estate is a strip club used for money - laundering and whatnot , where he manages to fall for one of the new dancers . give me feelings of jealousy when she's up on the stage , having to sneak around because it's not good for business , finding any and every excuse to spend time together . alternatively a stripper x customer plot . preferred fc for this : kaya scodelario , but open for others .

CONTENTS : bonded by trauma , crime elements , finding love in the most surprising place — give me this plot written by pocmuzings . a hard ass cop falling for this girl he rescues from somewhere ( perhaps leaving out the s/ex ring stuff and coming up with our own idea ) and he's the only one she trusts , doesn't let anyone close . he is so enthralled by her , can't leave her alone and just so mesmerized and overwhelmed by this urge to keep checking up on her & she keeps contacting him because he's the only one who brings her comfort and safety . i just want the drama and angst of this ! suggested opposite for this : tom hardy but open to others .

CONTENTS : period drama , forbidden relationship , affair , sneaking around , neglected housewife — literally just give me a lady chatterley's lover plot . a neglected housewife in whichever time period we choose to do it in finding comfort in someone who works around the estate . her husband is too busy with business to notice her , probably doesn't even care about her . cue a hot affair that turns into proper feelings , he's jealous when she has to return to her idiot of a husband each night when he could treat her much better . making plans of running away and starting over somewhere else . suggested opp for this : jack o'connell , henry cavil , tom hardyl .

CONTENTS : motorcycle club , freshly out of prison , opposites attract , right person wrong time , exes to lovers , affair — high school sweethearts . being a part of an mc is all he's ever known and she's always been okay with that . together since they were fifteen , she's always been supportive of him until something goes wrong and he takes one for the club , ending up in prison for _however long we want_ . she can wait for him or she could move on , already in a new relationships several years later when he finally gets out . cue a hot cat and mouse game when he wants to get her back , she doesn't know what to do because she has a new life but he is her first love and she never really got over him . perhaps they even begin an affair behind her new partner's back , he's desperate to win her back and she's torn between ration and love . open with fcs for this one .

CONTENTS : rock'n'roll , in love with a rockstar , savior's complex , toxic relationships — music artist x his assistant . her traveling with him for tours and attempting to keep everything together behind the scenes due to his issues , she’s pioneering / directing everything since he is often too inebriated to do so and often finds herself questioning why the fuck she is even doing so much for him . at the end of the day it’s because she believes in him so fucking strongly and she's so in love with him , it's one of those hot and cold relationships where one moment he’s pulling her on his lap or into make out sessions in hotels and on the tour bus and the next moment he’s acting as if nothing ever happened . it’s a disastrous back-and-forth playing with fire situation but she just can't let go and he's too stupid to realize what he's got . credits to original poster lavendertonicrps . open with fcs for this one .

some other more loose ideas with no proper plots around them :

friendship where the line between friends and lovers is constantly blurred , one is more smitten and in love , whereas the other thinks it's all just fun and games .

this mafia plot .

this plot based on redeeming love .

this plot based on forever my girl .

cowboy falling for a prissy city girl .

any exes to lovers trope ever .

[guardianofwonder]

Many influences come together to make my Nicolas Nicolas.

“It was said that he once defeated an entire regiment of calvary with a bent steak knife-while he was eating.” - William Joyce

“He’s a wild man,” Ramsey says. “An adventurer, a warrior, a dynamic force. A big guy who takes over every room. He has two gigantic swords. He kicks down doors. The core idea was, what would a guy who can fly around the world in one night be like? He had to do this with sheer force of will. So we wrapped that dynamo around a guy who loves making toys, whose whole existence is bringing generosity to the world.”

INFLUENCES: Slavic myth, Norse myth, Christian myth, Violent Night, William Joyce’s The Guardians of Childhood and The Man in the Moon, Rise of the Guardians (2012), historical connections to Santa Claus, this amazing webpage outlining information about Veles, & the Rankin/Bass Claymation films.

My Nicolas is very inspired by Nicholas St. North, but the idea of him also being the Slavic god Veles was so interesting to me: I wondered what would come of the muse if I combined them?

NAME: Veles, Nicolas. 

ALIAS: Nicholas St. North, Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, St. Nick, Kris Kringle, Odin, Wodan, Welnos, Volos, Saint Blaise, The Devil, St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, Sinterklaas, Krampus, Father Christmas, any & every name for Santa Claus.

TITLES: The Guardian of Wonder, the Spirit of Generosity, The Greatest Thief & Bandit Who Ever Lived, The Cossack, Toymaker.

AGE: Indetermined. Very old. Jokes that he’s seen the beginning of time.

GOD OF: fertility, boundaries, order, mischief, magic, invention, cattle, water, earth, the underworld, the dead, music, wealth, trickery, forests, oath-keeping & treaties, retribution, farming, vengeance, psychic ability, the hunt, power, & poetry.

SPIRIT OF: generosity, nature, & invention.

GUARDIAN OF: wonder.

WEAPON: two swords & a spear.

SACRED ANIMALS: bear, wolf, snake, dragon, owl, any farm animals & black birds.

ASSISTANTS: yeti, Leshy, reindeer, & elves.

DOMAIN: Nav/Nawia (The North Pole). In Winter, Nav/Nawia changes from a forest and farmlands to the North Pole, and returns back to its forest-y appearance when Spring arrives.

ABILITIES: shapeshifting (into a dragon or bear or other animal under his domain), using snowglobes to transport himself + others, master swordsmanship, the power of wonder, master craftsman, master inventor, master magician, master toymaker, the gift of the silvertongue (can communicate with all beings + can articulate clearly), 

STRONGEST ABILITY: The Power of Wonder. North has an ability to find the wonder in everything around him which helps him in his creation of toys and inventions. It also boosts his faith in others and resolve, and helps him be jolly and a little childish but gives him a unique insight. His shapeshifting ability is an extension of his Power of Wonder.

APPEARANCE FC: David Harbour in Violent Night (during Winter).

Eric Balfour from Haven (all other seasons).

VOICE FC: Adam Baldwin in Rise of the Guardians.

EYE COLOR: blue, crystal blue.

HAIR COLOR: always has black eyebrows.

white + long, curly hair and beard (during Winter).

dark + short cropped (all other seasons).

red (as Kris Kringle).

CLOTHING: Black fur hat, a long red coat with black trim, black boots, black sheepskin pants, and thick, black gloves (in Winter).

Hawaiian shirt + jeans with tennis shoes and white socks (all other seasons.)

HEIGHT: 6'6".

WEIGHT: 270 lbs.

BODY SHAPE: Big boy. It’s cuffin’ season. Chunky but also muscular.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: When appearing as Nicolas, he has tattoos on either arm featuring Naughty + Nice, all sorts of Celtic + Slavic symbols on his torso, arms, and back. Right on the center of his chest + ribs is his Veles snake. Blue eyes, no matter the form. 

If he reveals his true form, as Veles, he will have golden antlers protruding from his long, brown, & curly hair.

NATIONALITY: N/A. Appears Slavic, as that is one of his favorite places, Nicolas has an indistinct Slavic accent that can sound very Russian at times.

GENDER: Masculine. Uses he/him.

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC IDENTITY: Bisexual and demiromantic.

MORALITY: Chaotic Good.

PERSONALITY: Nicolas is a warrior with a heart of gold. Fierce, demanding and impulsive, everything about him is larger than life. For him, nothing is impossible as long as he believes in it. He is inventive and witty, sarcastic and curious, and immensely willful. He will do whatever he can to save others. He is also fearless, mysterious, caring, and full of wonder.

BIOGRAPHY: Veles had been alive for what feels like all of Time, guarding the border between Yav (the mortal world) and Nav (the underworld). When his worship + power started to wane due to Christianity’s influence across all of the world, and his reputation was tarnished as the Devil, the Man in the Moon offered Veles a new job: become the Guardian of Wonder.

He took the name Nicolas, and decided to embody an aspect of himself that he enjoyed a great deal: Santa Claus.

Nav became the North Pole, its fertile fields turning to snow-encapsulated tundra when Winter struck. No mortal can dare enter the North Pole, not without special permission.

Souls who pass under the Slavic banner end up residing in Nav for all of eternity, and when Nav turns into the North Pole, those who live within Nav can volunteer to help with Santa’s duties, or opt to just enjoy the wintery aspect of the realm. Those who are favored by Nicolas can become Santa’s Helpers, and he sends them all throughout the mortal world to act in his stead.

Leshys patrol the space, so no souls leave without permission. Elves assist in toymaking. The Yeti assist in overseeing all functions within Nav, and act as managers, while also covering all other duties that the others fail at.

Every December 24th, he delivers gifts to good children and leaves coal for naughty children. He has also been known to still deliver to adults.

Using his Globe of Belief, Nicolas makes sure that the children of the world believe in the Guardians. Whenever crises arrive, Nicolas is there, blades at the ready, spear strapped to his back, and is ready to kick a w ho-ho-ho le lot of ass.

[clanoffetts]

someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

Chapter III

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blossoms.

warnings/things to note: swearing; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); no use of ‘Y/N’; my fc for Paz is Winston Duke, I don’t describe Paz too much at the moment, but just know that’s who I picture!

word count: 6.4k

karyai - main living room of the covert - a big chamber for talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack.

ba’vodu - uncle/aunt

-

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.  

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself. 

A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending. 

You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night. 

You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando. 

“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open. 

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?” 

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.” He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”

You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic. 

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

-

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance. 

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable. 

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”. 

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a pretty mechanic in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.” 

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases. 

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles. 

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”

“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.” 

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping. 

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.” 

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?” 

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”

Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.” 

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?” 

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat. 

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded. 

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”

“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?” 

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated. 

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms. 

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine. 

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.” 

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“Your girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.” 

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time. 

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you. 

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose. 

-

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. A baby? You thought. 

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?” 

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said, and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly. 

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place. 

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to the Mando. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt. 

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to his father, who fastened him into the carrier. 

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off. 

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship. 

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol. 

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again. 

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV. 

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.” 

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time. “Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock. 

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad. 

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.” 

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says. 

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe. 

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front. 

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure. 

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says. 

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days. 

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?” 

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things. 

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago. 

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it. 

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore. 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask. 

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress. 

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?” 

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor. 

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots. 

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big. 

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle. 

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you. 

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.” 

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now. 

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up. 

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you. 

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.” 

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place. 

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong, hardened muscles. 

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together. 

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor. 

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don’t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit. 

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.” 

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.” 

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care. 

-

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip? 

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too. 

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. Someday, you told yourself. Someday. 

tag list (send me an ask or reply and i’ll add you!!) - @remmysbounty

[snarkofstark-archive]

I posted 722 times in 2021

152 posts created (21%)

570 posts reblogged (79%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.8 posts.

I added 826 tags in 2021

#self - 209 posts

#fc - 162 posts

#mun talks - 75 posts

#fanart - 71 posts

#answered - 68 posts

#pepperony - 62 posts

#otp - 61 posts

#meme - 59 posts

#about tony - 33 posts

#alyafae - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 83 characters

#and all are taught by tony cause he is filling in for 3 teachers who called sick :d

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

// May I introduce you to my little fluffy stalker whenever I am working on my drafts.

8 notes • Posted 2021-04-08 22:20:06 GMT

#4

My RP partner: Hey, how dark do you wanna get in this thread? Me: Yes

9 notes • Posted 2021-04-11 21:26:05 GMT

#3

// In honor of Munday: Have an old Cosplay picture of me as Hydra!Cap. It’s honestly one of my faves to wear. Hydra!Cap: Me Photo taken and edited by: Nerp_Photography I miss Cons and cosplaying so much tbh

11 notes • Posted 2021-08-23 21:40:39 GMT

#2

// Since I’ve been missing Cons a lot: Have some pictures of my last Stucky shooting from Dokomi 2019 Can’t wait until I can finally see everyone again.

Pre-Serum Steve: Me Bucky: Theentchen Pictures taken and edited by: Ayla.Capcake

12 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 15:37:04 GMT

#1

Pre-IM Starter for @viividpurity​

If there was one positive thing that Tony had learned about his new personal assistent then it was the fact that she was always efficient and also quick to respond whenever he wanted something from her. He had called her around six in the morning, only telling her that there was an emergency and she needed to be at his mansion immediately. Unlike his previous PAs she hadn’t asked many questions and this pleased him immensly. He was never in the mood to explain himself to others after all.

Right now he was in the living room, waiting for the notification that Pepper arrived from Jarvis. She hadn’t been inside his mansion yet, given she had only worked for him for three weeks that wasn’t surprising. His eyes wandered over to the hallway that led to his bedroom. He hoped that his one night stand would continue to sleep for longer. He didn’t want to deal with her whining when she woke up only to find out that she would get thrown out like all the others before her. It always baffled him that most women seemed to think they would receive a different treatment after sleeping with him once. As if he would change over one night. That thought alone was ridiculous.

Tony let out a relieved sigh when Jarvis announced that Virgina Potts had arrived. Finally. With a smile on his lips he stood up and walked towards the hallway while instructing his AI to open the door for her and let her in.

“Miss Potts! Finally! I’ve been waiting for you.” He didn’t even give her the time to say anything. “There is some trash in my bedroom that needs to get thrown out immediately. Like I said on the phone, it’s definitely an emergency. Thanks and that will be all.”

Not even waiting for her response he turned around and made his way towards his workshop downstairs. Some tinkering would help him relax a bit. Maybe he would even come up with another invention.

“I apologize for Sirs behaviour Miss Potts. I am Jarvis. The AI of this household. If there are any questions just direct them to me. I’ll do my best to help.”

12 notes • Posted 2021-03-12 21:37:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[unrcpentant]

yes  it’s  me...again...sorry  yet  another  shit  intro,  actually  this  might  be  worse  than  julian’s. i  put  blood  sweat  and  tears  into  it  though  you  can  count  on  that. anyway,  luc  is  still  a  little  rough  around  the  edges  as  i  haven’t  really  gotten  to  develop  him  yet.

RUBEN LOFTUS-CHEEK, CIS MALE, TWENTY SIX, HE/HIM   ⟨  ✽  ⟩   hey, you haven’t bumped into  luc andré  lately, have you? they have been living here for the past  year  and during that time, locals have gotten to know them as  determined  &  charming.  a little birdie told me they can be quite  unlucky  &  pessimistic  though. explains why they’re an  assistant coach for the whitby soccer team.  they really remind me of  beers with the boys, waking up at 5 am, and being overly prepared .  if you’re ever looking for them, i bet you can find them around  waverly athletics park.

the  andré’s  are  basically  like  the  beckhams. his  dad  is  a  retired  soccer  player  who’s  pretty  much  got  a  legend  status  amongst  soccer  fans  and  even  none  soccer  fans  because  he’s  simply  an  icon. his  mom  is  a  fashion  designer  and  has  done  some  tv-hosting  gigs  over  the  years,  she’s  pretty  funny  as  well,  has  participated  in  a  couple  of  british  comedy  shows  but  she’s  not  considered  a  comedian. anyway,  the  whole  family  is  just  kind  of  known  for  being  super  stylish  and  posh.

 luc  went  in  his  fathers  footsteps  i  mean  he  basically  came  out  of  the  womb  with  a  soccer  ball. he  was  a  natural,  even  with  all  the  pressure  of  having  to  live  up  to  his  fathers  legacy. he  was  kind  of  your  typical  golden  boy,  although  it’s  not  because  he  was  a  natural  at  everything,  but  he  was  stubborn  and  determined  to  make  things  work  and  figure  things  out. he’s  always  been  a  hard  worker  whether  that  was  in  school  or  sports.

 his  soccer  career  started  out  super  well,  having  joined  the  chelsea  soccer  academy  at  age  9  and  staying  there  until  he  made  it  pro  and  got  a  contract  for  chelsea  fc. many  experts  called  him  the  future  captain  and  also  called  a  spot  for  him  on  the  national  team. they  probably  jinxed  it  for  him. ‘cause  at  the  age  of  20  he  started  being  riddled  with  injuries  some  smaller  and  less  serious  than  others  but  when  he  got  an  acl  injury  shit  really  hit  the  fan. the  doctors  claimed  the  outlook  was  good  at  first  as  it  was  only  a  partial  tear  and  didn’t  need  surgery  just  recovery  but  with  his  luck  of  course  he  managed  to  tear  it  completely  as  he  lacked  patience. after  surgery  and  physical  therapy  over  a  year  had  gone  by  and  honestly  there  wasn’t  much  positive  news  to  report...

 it  wasn’t  with  good  will  but  he  ended  up  putting  his  soccer  career  on  hold. instead  pursuing  a  bachelor  in  physical  education,  he  ended  up  at  university  of  massachusetts. after  finishing  said  bachelor,  he  was  approached  by  the  coaching  team  at  whitby  university  who’s  assistant  coach  spot  would  soon  be  open...and  honestly  luc  didn’t  have  much  else  going  for  him  so  he  ended  up  accepting. it’s  been  a  year  now  and  he’s  honestly  thriving. while  it’s  far  from  his  dream,  he’s  having  a  good  time.

 he’s  very  down  to  earth,  very  much  a  people  person  and  probably  why  he  works  so  well  in  the  assistant  coach  position,  working  closely  with  the  players,  he’s  probably  giving  big  brother  vibes  to  many  of  them. but  his  vibes  are  chill...he’s  very  charming  though,  very  friendly  and  sometimes  too  friendly,  he  might  be flirting...

he  can  be  slightly  unlucky  and  that  makes  him  slightly  pessimistic  at  times,  with  his  track  record  he  just  kinda expects  the  worst. 

[pocmuzings]

hello hi , it is g , ur friendly local neighbourhood hindu indian ( as in south asian  ) ! so a few people requested that i just make a guide-esque sorta thing on hindu  indian characters ! im not really good at guides , so instead , these are just little things i’ve noticed or picked up on that could really potentially strengthen the next indian character u ( pretty please ! ) pick up ! 

disclaimer : i am writing this from my perspective and it is NOT definitive , nor do i speak on behalf of all hindu indians  ! i am a 23-year-old bisexual cis female hindu indian , with one older gay brother, and a Train Wreck middle brother . my mother is from new delhi , and my father is from nairobi but has indian heritage ( not sure which part of india bc he’s an Engima ) . i have extended family in india and have visited india about 10-15 times throughout my entire life .

so firstly , im so glad u all are here and want to write more hindu indian characters ! please please do so !  i hope this helps , encourages u , and isnt too confusing !! 

psa : i need everyone to know that this is a very basic ‘ guide ‘ and theres a lot it DOESNT touch on or address bc i didnt want to get too Extensive and Detailed and have people Turn off and not Read it . this is just written in the terms of hopefully helping build  character / be relevant to characters a bit better that ive employed into writing my OWN hindu indian character creations !  but if u have any other questions pls reach out to me or any other indians in the rpc and im sure we’ll try our best to assist u !

FCS: 

one thing i’d really like to say is that its great to see fcs like dev patel  , deepika padukone and avan jogia picked up every now and then in rps , but there’s actually a LOT of other indian fcs you could be and should be using ! the main reason people don’t seem to know them is because they’re not ‘ hollywood ‘ stars per se ( it was a super big deal when pr*yanka broke out of bollywood and into bollywood but we don’t talk about her on this Blog ) . they’re usually bollywood stars and i don’t really see bollywood discussed that much in the rpc ! 

if you’re after MORE indian fcs , i have a tag of indian females here , and indian males here . the fcs on my blogs are also not ALL that exist . there are plenty of other blogs out there that post indian fcs , such as sonamhelps &  bollymusings !!! there’s also some really great faceclaim directories out there that include a LOT of indians with resources !

 unfortunately , i do not know of any trans indians or nonbinary indians but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist . indian cultures and beliefs are still quite Old School and not super progressive . india only just had it’s first wlw mainstream bollywood film released last year . lgbtqia+ issues are NOT really spoken about in india or within indian families at ALL , and if they are - they’re usually dismissed or reacted to Very Very Badly . ( again this isnt definitive and im sure and hopeful that some indians have had GREAT coming out stories and been accepted by their families but this has not been a common thing ive seen or witnessed from my cousins my age , indian friends , myself and my brother who are lgbtqia +  ) 

FOOD : 

we do eat with our hands and we eat like PROS with our hands . we can shovel it so easily and quickly . i don’t know how to describe it but you use the first three fingers of your hand to place the Food there , and then use your thumb to kinda scoop it off and into your mouth . this is NOT unhygienic because indians wash their hands very regularly and most of the time we aren’t actually touching our mouths to our hands ! 

indian food is MADE to be eaten with your hands for the most part . it is literally NOT practical to eat food with a knife and fork . here’s a really great article explaining things more in depth re: indian food and using our hands !

cows are seen as Very holy beings in hindu indian culture , and for that reason - there isn’t a lot of beef being eaten or consumed. sure , some indians DO eat beef but i don’t think its super common, but in my personal experience as a non-beef-eater this results in A LOT of me asking ‘ oh ,  sorry what sauce does that pasta come with ? ‘ ‘ oh those are beef sausages ? sorry i can’t eat them ‘ etc etc . beef is in a LOT of things , and this makes me very very careful and almost pedantic about what i do eat and ask about , food wise  !

indian food is seen as stinky by a majority of white people . it has a very very strong smell as im sure u know , and opening ur lunch box as a little kid to a Curry or Dal ur mum has made u ? one way street to being bullied . i also remember a time a real estate agent continuously told my dad nobody was interested in buying our house bc it smelled too much like curry,  despite my mum not having cooked curry in Weeks ( just say what u Really mean ,  bitch ! )

 indian curry exists but so does dal / daal . this is curry-like dish that is usually made out of lentils . so if ur going to talk about indian food and u know curries and samosas . . pls also bring up dals . and sabji ! ( sabji is usually just boiled vegetables plopped together . a lot of potato usually )

desserts are what we call Indian Sweets  . this is stuff that is usually very VERY sugary and a bit of an accustomed taste . theyre very colourful and LOOK beautiful but even i , for one , can not eat many indian sweets bc they are a Lot of Sweet and Sugar    . examples of indian sweets that u can google  : gulab jamun , burfi , rasgulla , jalebi etc . here’s a great link for more !

give me spiced food or give me death . literally . . put some cumin in . . put some garam masala . . put some chillies . . flavour ur Food for my Indian Taste Buds 

FAMILY : 

if you are the oldest son of an Indian Family . . congratulations . you are now the Head of the family and must carry every weight and burden alone . it is extremely isolating and taxing on you ( my dad is the oldest indian son , and also - so is my eldest brother , obvs ) . there is a LOT that is expected of you to do . you are expected to quite literally run the family and be the ‘ man of the house ‘ by yourself . 

if you are a daughter . . . even BIGGER congratulations ! you are basically a maid to every male or guest who EVER comes over to your house . you must be a Hostess , you must be in the kitchen cooking , serving snacks, bringing tea , and then washing up and basically waiting on Hand and Foot . you will not be included into a lot of dialogue or engaged in a lot of conversation and TRUST ME ! THAT WILL GRIND UR GOD DAMN GEARS IN THE 21ST CENTURY ! 

if you are a boys’ boy ( aka straight and Sporty ) , then congrats ! you get it the easiest : you are the favourite of every social event . the uncles and cousins love talking to you and dude-ing it up with you , and the aunts fawn over you and think you’re the Best Thing since sliced bread . sit back , put your feet up , and expect to be treated like a God. you can do absolutely no wrong . ( my middle brother is this to a T and listen . . he’s been in and out of jail for physical violence and ab*se for over 5 years . and family still FROTH over him . my teeth are gritted to dust thinking of this again ) 

indian aunties are lethal . they gossip like teenage girls . they will find out everything . they will bitch behind your back . they can NOT be trusted .

everyone is ur uncle or aunt, sister or brother . literally everyone . ur cousin ? no. thats ur sister . ur dads friend ? no , thats ur uncle . you will call them as such . EVERYONE is family .  

family is in general a VERY BIG THING in indian culture , too . ‘ what will it Look like to everyone else if we don’t all arrive together ? ‘ my dad usually asks dskjdfjn . it’s all about Looking Right and Standing As A United Front  . that being said , indian family has undying and unwavering loyalty for one another , they just show it in a very Weird way .

FASHION: 

female hindu indian formal  clothes are usually really embroidered to hell and back and this makes them very scratchy , uncomfortable, and HEAVY . you aren’t running anywhere anytime soon in a full blown lehenga or saree 

most ‘ modern ‘ hindu indian women do not wear full Indian Clothes all the time . some do , but usually it’s a lot of wearing a kurti tunic with jeans , or just normal everyday clothing . again , this is going to be different based on which parts of india your character is from , though ! 

usually , older women and married women  wear traditiona hindul indian clothing quite often . i know my mum wore a sari AT HOME everyday when i was growing up, until i was like 13 and took her shopping with me to get something Else to wear . 

bindi’s just stick right onto ur forehead but they do fall off a lot , especially when ur wearing makeup or sweating . again , you don’t need to wear a bindi everyday , unless thats ur preference . i usually only wear them for festivals . ( festivals means indian celebrations , not like . . coachella  ((which u should not be wearing a bindi to , if ur not indian fyi )) )

male formal clothes are usually just literally anything Formal and buttoned up for the most part , and u can get away with that , or you can wear a really nice kurta

indians wear white at funerals , not black  ( not sure if this should go in the fashion section but this entire thing is being organised into a Mess by now anyways ) . you CAN wear black to a funeral of course , but its common to wear white !

DATING ( tw’s for islamaphobia ): 

modern day indian / desi fuck boys exist and my god they are Something Else . hasan minhaj did a really good piece about this and explaining them to a T ( starts at 1:43 )

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT WILL MENTION ISLAMAPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIA ! ) basically according to Older  indians , ,  ur dating options  in 2020 go like this ( if ur a cis female like me ) : hindu indian men are god tier , white men are Not Okay But I Guess So Bc We Have To Accept They’re Everywhere , females / being lgbtqia+ is not Taken Seriously , and muslims are literally not even close to being an option or Accepted  . again this isn’t definitive but based on a lot of  indian media i’ve consumed and seen how they portray muslims in general as well as Dating Options , as well as talking to other indians  , both who are older / traditional and hold these ideals , whereas Younger gens generally do NOT hold these ideals  / actively are Against these backwards ideals.   i remember when i was in year 6 and had my first boyfriend . . he was a muslim and my dad FLIPPED the FUCK out  . it’s not even that i was dating someone / young / his only daughter . . it was mainly because i was dating a muslim . again , this is a very OLD SCHOOL and traditional way of thinking and it is NOT CORRECT .  pls don’t take this as a note to be islamaphobic if u write an indian character bc . . thats literally the opposite of what im trying to tell u here . 

yeah arranged marriages are definitely still a thing for us , even now in 2020

YES if u are an unmarried / single indian ( ESPECIALLY if ur a woman ) about to enter ur 30s . . ur in DANGER and u are the black sheep and theres probably something Wrong With You bc why are u still single ?

TRADITIONS / BELIEFS / SUPERSTITIONS :

idk if its just me and my family but we are SUPER superstitious . if you say anything like ‘ he hasnt gotten sick in years !’ immediately , everyone knocks on wood or their head . if you were planning on leaving the house and sneeze ? thats bad luck , stand and wait for five minutes then u can leave . we have a strong belief in drishti , or  alternatively : The Evil Eye  , and making sure we don’t invite it into our lives . a lot of our prayers are about warding drishti away .

the evil eye is kinda Complicated but basically its an ill-wishing upon an unsuspecting person . if somebody is jealous of you or angered by you , they may wish upon you or cast upon you the Evil eye ( or even just glare at u whilst ur not looking and thats Big Bad ) . 

a lot of older indians , like older people in general i guess , are not super progressive or Open . this isnt ALWAYS the case but older indians can be very very stubborn in their beliefs in what is Right and Wrong , Normal and Not Normal 

theres a LOT of hindu indian festivals and events ! tbh too many for me to even keep up with . but without fail at least once a year ill say to ONE of my friends ‘ oh sorry i cant make it . i have an indian Thing on that day ‘ and its usually about a festival , so pls be aware that there are a LOT of indian festivals and if ur writing an indian character , its perfectly understandable and Relatable for them to say they can’t make it to a party or hang out with their friends that night , for that very reason !

the main / most popular ( ? ) festivities  that i personally do celebrate every year without fail are : 

diwali ( the festival of lights , celebrating goddess lakshmi roaming the earth . in my household this is usually turning on literally every single light and lighting candles and fireworks / sparklers and saying some prayers , and eating a formal dinner all together !  )  

holi ( the festival of colours . celebrating victory and love . again personally for me , this was usually celebrated at the temple with all of us Kids running around throwing paint on each other ! ) 

rakhi / raksha bandhan ( a day of sisters celebrating their brothers . you tie a rakhi which is usually a bracelet / holy string around your brothers wrist , feed them some food , pray for their wellbeing and in return they gift you something . in my case, i usually get money from them ) .

navratri  / durga puja ( 9 nights and 10 days of celebrations but tbh u don’t have to do all the days . or i mean . . i don’t . i fast one day from morning to night and then i slide on over to boogie and dance dandiya which is literally the MOST FUN dance ever bc its based off some Historical Fight and u go faster and faster and keep going until ur absolutely SPENT bc u dont wanna lose ur place in the circle )  

there are SO MANY HINDU INDIAN GODS too . and so many prayers to all of them and to just general Life Wellness . chances are that ur character will know at least ONE aarti / gazal / prayer off by heart and have sung it at least 30 times in a monotone voice . the ones i know off by heart bc ive had to sing them 3000 times ? om jai jagdish hare , & the gayatri mantra 

GENERAL LIL THINGS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO CATEGORISE ( tw’s for skin whitening , colorism and classism ) :

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR SKIN WHITENING AND COLORISM  ) lets hold indians accountable right now : we advertise SKIN LIGHTENING CREAM  . i think they finally stopped that earlier this year / due to BLM ( i’m not entirely sure / could be wrong ) , but thats literally how bad it is , that we would openly advertise and encourage people to literally bleach their skin rather than look darker . 

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR COLORISM AND CLASSISM ) colorism is a BIG thing in india and usually linked to class . generally speaking , the people who are Darker Skinned are usually people who work outside / labourers or homeless even , and are therefore seen as lower class / bottom class . the lighter skin you have , the more privileged and advantaged you are bc ur seen as working a Good job out of the sun and having a home . it’s incredibly classist as well as just generally Fucked Up . why am i telling u this ? mainly so u understand the importance of using a dark skinned indian fc vs a light skinned indian fc which i know is hard , bc a lot of darker skinned indians arent in hollywood / have resources , but its still something to Think About .  

i have a long Ethnic name . literally my first name is 10+ letters , which i know doesnt seem that long Necessarily but its also a Super Ethnic name with e’s and and j and n . it Flows and Sounds very clearly different from a christian name . it is VERY important to me that my name be said Correctly because i’ve spent so much time having it said incorrectly or Westernised . i also know a lot of indians my age who ( like me ) have had to dramatically shorten their REAL first name ( which is usually also pretty long . not always , but it is Common ) , to fit their name into white people’s mouths better . please put some thought into ur indian characters name !

not all indians speak hindi ! hindi is one of MANY dialects within india . there is also tamil , urdu  , bengali , punjabi , telugu and SO many more , so pls research which part of india ur character / their family  is from bc hindi won’t always be the default language for them !

not every indian is hindu ! of course ur character doesnt have to be religious at all , bc if im being honest IM barely religious but my FAMILY is and this is smth u should think abt bc religion is a pretty big thing for indians . so even if ur character isnt hindu , they were probably raised with SOME religious beliefs . have a think about which religions they would have been brought up with ! there’s a very large percentage of practicing muslims , sikhs and buddhists too ! and even christianity !

WRITING WISE / CREATING AN INDIAN CHARACTER WISE :

the first step should be to consume indian media ! listen to indian music . watch bollywood movies ! theres SO MANY  out there on everyone’s netflix . if u want some recs , let me know and i can try my best to find smth for u ! if u want smth thats Hollywood-indian . . . Hasan Minhaj is great to watch , especially his episodes on indian culture / politics , and Never Have I Ever on netflix was rlly good / relatable for me personally as an indian growing up in a western society !

i would really really love to see more indian rep in general , but i’d also like to discuss the Stereotypes that ive seen indians portrayed as in mainstream hollywood media :

indian women as soft spoken and subservient beings who are abused by their husbands and have no say in anything 

heterosexuality within indian relationships and indian dating 

indian men as sleazy 

indians in general not being seen as Sexy or Sexual beings with any sex drive at all 

Stumbling , Stuttering , Nerdy awkward messes of men who don’t know how to interact with anybody they find sexually appealing

an indian character that everybody ( usually white ) finds Uncomfortable and Weird and is seen as usually the Butt of the joke .

 i think those mentioned above could be helpful in how to plan your next indian character and think about how to SUBVERT a trope theyre often portrayed as , or create an indian thats not stereotypical !

so what and who SHOULD you write ? 

an indian character who is proudly and openly gay , or bi 

a trans or nonbinary indian ( PLEASE ! ) 

an indian character with really super accepting parents and family 

an aromantic indian 

an indian who is focused on their career first and not their dating life 

a fuckboy / fuckgirl ( honestly . . i’d love to see it )

a indian character who is a party animal 

an outspoken indian female who takes no shit and is strong in every sense of the word

a confident , smooth talking indian businessman who is Sexy and Lusted After ( not in a gross christian grey way but just . i’d love to see indian characters seen as Sexy . not in a fetishy way , either , but just because it’d be a nice change in pace ! )

a character who IS traditional / religious but also very progressive and forward thinking in their beliefs 

honestly just any character that isnt whats mentioned above

[dailylogyn]

I'm new to your blog. So if you've said this before, sorry. But what do you personally have Signy looking like?

I can't get an idea and none of the 'face claims' I've seen feel right.

You’re all good! I don’t mind answering questions and I have yet to answer this one, so I thank you for sending it in! ❤️

I know how you feel about trying to find the faceclaim that feels right for you. When putting together a character’s physical appearance, I usually go by their personality and what physical features I think would match with it. Since I have synesthesia, I associate certain colors with certain things. I personally think lighter hair colors work with her warm personality and have always seen her having either blonde or red hair because of this (but I’ve become open to light brown hair too.) 

Sigyn is constancy, compassion, love, patience and etc, so I’d see her facial and overall physical features being soft and bright, but she has also been through so much and endured many trials and burdens, so I see her eyes looking tired and kind, but she has a fierce strength when the need arises that can intimidate others. She is a goddess and magic user after all, and just because she is usually kind that doesn’t mean she will stand for shit. We are talking about a woman who is the wife of Loki. She loves him, but probably goes WTF over some of the stuff he’s done, yet still remains by his side. 

I have a few of my FC’s for Sigyn in my head that fit my personal depiction of her (like Natalie Dormer, Keira Knightley and Alicia Vikander), but the awesome thing about Sigyn is that she can look however you picture her. This goes for any character really, but just because most of the fandom may use a particular FC or a certain set of physical appearances the most doesn’t mean you have to feel subjected to it. Go by how you feel. If it doesn’t work for you, then go with what you think works. <3

If you need any further inspiration or assistance, let me know :) I’m always happy to help. 

- Admin Marian

[stcfvnia]

...so I ended up editing Stef’s intro because of the changes made to her basics & backstory!! It’s almost the same, I just added the part about her birth mother dying & her father remarrying c: The bio is quite long so there’s a tldr at the bottom!

here it is!

&&. announcing her grace, ( stefania kalena czartoryska ), the ( 37 ) year old ( queen ) of ( poland ). she is often confused with ( anne hathaway ). some say that she is ( too stoic and altruistic  ), but she is actually ( clear-headed and meticulous ).

basics

Name: Stefania Kalena Czartoryska

Gender: Cisfemale

Place of Birth: Warsaw, Poland

Date of Birth: September 21, 1982

Age: 37

Title: Queen of Poland

Education: graduated with a double major in Political Science & International Relations from Oxford University

Positive Traits: clear-headed & meticulous

Negative Traits: stoic & altruistic

Birth Parents: (name to be updated) Czartoryska & Kazimierz Czartoryski (both deceased)

Stepmother: Simonetta Di Savoia-Czartoryska

Siblings: Samuel (full), Sasha (half) & Serafina (half)

introduction

Not every life starts on good note

Being the first born of Queen (name to be updated) and King Kazimierz,  it was a given that her parents showered her with their love and full attention. That did not change when her younger brother, Samuel, came along. It did change, however, in the year 1987 when her mother passed away. Stefania did not understand that concept. All she cared about at the time was that her mother never kissed her goodnight anymore.

Fortunately, their home did not stay cold forever. King Kazimierz remarried in the year 1990 and his second wife, Queen Simonetta of Italy made Stefania the love of a mother again. She may still hold her birth mother close to her heart but that did not mean that she didn't share the love she was capable of giving with her stepmother. She did, and she shared that love with her two step siblings as well.

but you have only one life to live,

It was also a given that there was pressure on Stefania’s shoulders. Her name alone reminded her of what she was supposed to do in her life which was to take over the throne and rule her country one day. It made sense, then, that she was given everything she needed to do that. She was given the best education, received assistance from the most notable tutors, had the most reliable ladies-in-waiting that one could ask for.

Being raised the way that Stefania led to some people wanting an out of their “calling” but that wasn’t the case for her. No, she wanted to live her life this way, to see how things are done, to have a say in how things are done and to give her people the sense of security and peace that she was fortunately born with. She wanted the power and was set on using it to make things better. The thing is she had only one life to live. Can she say that she was actually living it? The answer is no.

one chance to make it worthwhile,

Give a smile, shake some hands, engage in conversations and show your siblings what they should do.

For years, Stefania wanted to find a balance between doing what was expected of her and actually living her life but all her efforts were to no avail. It took one day filled with too much pressure and anxiety about the future to get her to set everything aside and to finally take the break that she deserved.You see, everyone has a breaking point and what caused Stefania to reach hers was an argument with her stepmother. Now, it was rare for her to ever answer back because she was honestly afraid of the queen at the time. However, she could not keep her mouth shut when she heard the words “You cannot make mistakes like this.” It was said after she was caught sneaking out of a palace guard’s room. She was twenty-two at the time.

She was tired of setting aside the things that she wanted to do all the time, and she hated that the one time she actually did something for herself, it led to her mother looking for a more “suitable” man for her. That’s was caused her to run away for a while. That’s when she started living her life.

For a year, she never stepped foot in their palace. Instead, she she travelled the world, attended the parties that she used to skip and ticked things off the bucket list she made when she was eighteen. Throughout that year, her name was not a stranger to the headlines and, obviously, Simonetta was not happy about this. Surprisingly, however, Kazimierz was. When she finally went home, the first words her father told her were it is about time you had a life outside this palace. That was the start of his support for her living a life that balances her responsibility and her fun.

one chance to get it right.

Unfortunately, that kind of life was not meant to last forever for Stefania and she knew that. She knew that there would come a day when she’d have to give up her fun for the sake of her responsibility, and she was willing to do so.

The thing is she had to do it sooner than she expected to. It was one thing to watch her father get weaker as the days pass, it was another to have to deal with his death and all the power that was in her hands. She didn’t give herself the chance to grieve. Instead, she put up a tough front, held on to her siblings as they grieved and assured them & her people that things will be okay.

Ever since, she either did not acknowledge or kept her sadness or fear to herself because she felt like doing otherwise will not do her people or her family any good. It may have been a heavy burden for her to carry but it was a price she was willing to pay.

So, your majesty, what are you going to do now?

tldr

She was named Stefania which, in Greek, means “crowned” so she had a daily reminder of her responsibility. It didn’t help that her parents (especially her mother) made her feel the pressure.

She rarely does things for herself like she has that “responsibility over me” mindset. One of the few times that she actually did that was with one of the royal guards. She was twenty-two at the time, so was he and they were in a relationship. It was going fine until she was caught sneaking out of his room lols so that didn’t end well for her or for him. It’s what led to her mother making it her personal mission to arrange an engagement for Stefania. She’s had her fair share of those engagements but none have worked out.

That argument with her stepmother after she got caught was what led her to run away. Like she wanted to live a life without any of the pressure so she spent a year traveling the world, partying, ticking off things on her bucketlist and doing things that caused her to be a headline a lot.

She thought that when she’d go home, she wouldn’t be the heir to the throne anymore but, surprisingly, her father supported her living a life like that. After years of doing nothing but what was expected of her, he felt like it was only fair that she get time off. So, with her support and despite being against Simonetta’s wishes, she lived a life with both responsibility and fun. As long as you don’t do anything too stupid was what her father always told her.

Then her father died which caused her to give up the fun part of her life. Don’t get wrong, she was willing to do it but she just had to do it sooner than she expected. Ever since, she’s had that “responsibility > me” mindset again and she does not show her siblings or her people if she’s feeling sad or afraid because, for her, doing so will not do them any good. It was a heavy burden for sure but she was willing to carry it on her own.

tidbits

She is very compassionate (sometimes too compassionate according to her mother). Think Princess Mia from the Princess Diaries Typical, I know (and a little funny now that her fc is Anne Hathaway) but she’s one of my inspos for Stef!!

She’ll do anything and everything for her people. And when she gets an idea that will be for their betterment, she won’t stop until she gets it done.

She rarely gets into arguments with people but when someone is being too cruel, she will not be able to keep her thoughts to herself.

She loves all her siblings with all her heart and whenever she feels like they need her, she’d cancel her plans for them. She’s the type of person who calls her friends out on doing something stupid only to support them right after. “As long as you’re not hurting anyone, yourself included.” - that’s what she always says.

She wanted to get married and have a family of her own before she took the throne but then things don’t always go as planned.

[pandemonshq]

Welcome, Nicky, please grab your stake on your way to your tumblr to play Draco Malfoy here at Pandemons. I think it’s no surprise to you that we adore your Draco: the marriage of convenience that still highlights the importance of family that every “good” Malfoy has, the Vampire Hunting, the fact that he’s still himself after all these years. ..

And, of course, your request for Alexander Skarsgård --present Fc and Austin Butler--past FC have been accepted.

Nicky’s application is being posted early due to her work on the game to get it up and running, and the relevance of Draco to the larger game plot. While Nicky is not a mod, her assistance made this game possible.

Out of Character Information

Name: Nicky Preferred Pronouns: she/her Age: over thirty O_o Timezone: EST Activity Level: Medium. I co-admin and participate in another roleplay, so depending on what is going on there in conjunction with the regular inconveniences of real life I may not have time to post responses every day, but I have absolutely no concerns that I will struggle to meet and indeed should regularly exceed the minimum requirement. I usually find Draco quite easy to write!

In Character Information

Character's Name: Draco Lucius Malfoy Bloodstatus: pure-blood Birthday: June 5, 1980

Gender and Sexuality: Transgender male, panromantic sex-positive asexual

Gender: 

Draco was six when he informed his parents that he was going to grow-up to be a wizard like daddy, not a witch like mummy. It took them a little time to be certain that their child really understood and meant what he was saying, but once they were convinced, his parents sprang into action to support their son: Lucius didn’t just contact the Daily Prophet to have an adjustment to Draco’s birth announcement printed, he took out a full-page ad. Narcissa sat her little boy down and poured-over lists of constellations with him to find what his new name would be (not that it took Draco long to select his -- “I can be a dragon? I want that one!”). They threw-away and purchased an entire new wardrobe for him (although it had never been the ribbons to which Draco had objected) and anyone who wasn’t quick enough to adjust to Draco’s new name got a painful hex for their lethargy (including Abraxas, once). It wasn’t so much acceptance that Draco got from his parents as adoration -- in all aspects. He was perfect; he could do no wrong. 

It wasn’t until he arrived at Hogwarts that Draco discovered that not everyone saw him through such idealized spectacles -- nor thought gender was as simple and straightforward a thing as the contents of a cauldron. For Draco, gender might as well have been synonymous with genitals, and swallowing a weekly dose of potion was all it took for him to go from girl to boy. The matter was closed...only it wasn’t. There were some people who thought the subject had far more nuance than that (one of the few subject on which he didn’t need losing a war to improve, at least) and then there were those who thought it had far less; who thought that there was no such thing as change. For the most part, they seemed to have come by those ideas from Muggle sources, which made both them and their words easy to dismiss -- mostly. Even a boy with as much blistering self-confidence (arrogance) as Draco is apt to find adolescence an uncertain, confusing time, and he was no exception; some barbs hurt even when you’re certain you don’t care. Having his dueling prowess questioned, his fashion-choices derided, his Quidditch skills discounted…all the things that, to Draco, meant masculinity. Not that witches couldn’t be great duelists or Quidditch players or fashion-plates, too; but Draco’s ideas of how to be a man were all modeled on his father. So to excel at “being a wizard” meant, for him, excelling at all the things at which Lucius excelled. (He was also always rather touchy about his name. He’d picked it himself, after all. It was the best name. His mother had said so!)

These days, Draco is far too used to simply being taken for a wizard to fret; it’s not as though he regularly goes around socializing with backwards-Muggle-thinkers, is it? (Not that all Mudb--Muggle-borns are backwards-thinkers! Some of them have done quite well at getting over their upbringing, and are quite indistinguishable from other wix now! He’s not bigoted anymore, you know!) He no longer focuses on mimicking his father in order to be a “proper” wizard -- in part because he’s grown more comfortable with himself as he grew-up, in part because exposure to the world beyond the immediate circle of his parents taught him that there’s more than one way to be a wizard, in part because an ex-Death Eater has more difficult things with which to grapple...and in part because the pedestal on which Lucius once stood in his son’s eyes has sagged a bit. Now instead of trying to trace anyone else’s footsteps, Draco is simply himself -- and learning to live with that was hard because of his choices and his mistakes, not his gender. Having anyone question his masculinity now on the basis that he takes a periodic dose of the Attisgalli Corrective Draught to maintain a physical form that suits his inner self would be less outrageous than baffling.

*NOTE: Draco is likely to express things about gender in outdated terminology because of his unfamiliarity with the Muggle world. However if this would make anyone uncomfortable please let me know (on-anon is fine!) because I will happily compromise a fiddly little bit of world building for the sake of my fellow players’ comfort!

Sexuality: 

Perhaps the one area in which Draco actually disappointed his father: he’s just not interested in sex. He doesn’t have anything against it; it’s just not something that motivates him, not something he thinks about unless someone else brings it up first. (Sort of like beets. He has no objection to eating them, and sometimes they can be genuinely delicious, but he’s never gone out of his way for a serving of beets.) That disinterest is what killed his relationship with Pansy (well, that and the fact that Draco had no idea they were dating in Pansy’s mind!) because all her offers and innuendos passed right over his head; he tends to take physical affection on face value and flirtation registers to him as simple banter. Lucius “blames” himself, lamenting that it was his distraction and absence at a crucial stage of his son’s development that left Draco’s “interests stunted.” Draco doesn’t understand the fuss; he’s perfectly happy the way he is and, frankly, given the vast drop in social popularity that the Malfoys faced after the war, it’s probably just as well that his interests are “stunted” because his prospects certainly were.

Former Hogwarts House: Slytherin -- sorted nearly the second the hat touched his head because of course he was, he was Draco Lucius Malfoy, last heir to both the Malfoy and Black families, and the scion of two of the purest lines in all of magical Britain and absolutely guaranteed to do great things!

Infection:

( No. Although I think it would be a fun potential plot to have him be infected either temporarily or permanently later! Actually I feel like “temporary infections” should be a regular effect of his vampire slaying efforts, since he’s likely to be exposed through that! )

Faceclaim: Alexander Skarsgård--present. Austin Butler--past.

Short HeadCanon Topics (please provide at least one paragraph per topic)

Occupation (title and one paragraph explanation): 

None...technically. Malfoys don’t need jobs, after all, so it should surprise no one that Draco hasn’t got one -- and it’s not as though he’s in a position where he can dabble in politics the way his father (and his father, and his father) did, is he? No, Draco has no job, only hobbies...

Or some might say, obsessions. One, actually: vampires. Draco Malfoy is a vampire hunter, possibly the first proper vampire hunter in over a hundred years. There hadn’t been a need for any in ages; vampires and wix had learned to co-exist long ago. Vampires had never really been accepted as ordinary people -- but they’d been fashionably exotic creatures, not scorned like half-giants or distrusted like goblins. The Malfoys in particular had been happy to socialize with (and take the money of) vampires, particularly back in the day; after Voldemort’s firstrise it became less acceptable for pure-blood wix to associate with any groups of non-wix unless they were serving the Dark Lord as well -- and vampires never did. Even as werewolves let themselves be courted and giants agreed to be bought, vampires kept their distance. So the Malfoys drifted away from them...

Until now. Until Astoria’s infection.

At first, Draco’s sole focus was in curing her -- and he hasn’t abandoned that hope. But as time passed and all his best efforts came to naught, those hopes have dwindled to a sort of cold, shriveled desperation. He still brews-up the occasional draught; still pieces-together scraps of old spells in hopes that something, some day, will save her...but that’s not his sole focus any longer. For a long time after the war, none of the Malfoys looked beyond the gates of the manor to the world outside -- but Scorpius is out there, now. He’s attending Hogwarts, moving through the world. Someday he’s going to grow-up and want to find a place for himself beyond the manor’s walls -- and like Lucius before him, Draco is determined to make that world as safe as possible for his child. Unlike Lucius, it’s not the tenuous (and perhaps somewhat exaggerated) threat of Muggles that Draco hopes to stem: it’s vampires, and the ever-increasing rate of infection among the magical world.

For a long time, he’s been fighting this quiet war alone in the dark. Who was he going to turn to for help, after all? Certainly not the Ministry of Magic! If Draco Malfoy walked in their doors talking about the dangers of a group of non-wix, he’d be lucky to just be ushered-away with a lecture on prejudice! No, he’s had to do this by himself -- but maybe not for much longer? Maybe things have finally gotten bad enough for someone else to notice...but will they want Draco’s help, expert though he has become on the subject? Maybe it’s still better for him to go this alone.

Marital Status/Ships: 

(tl;dr - Draco loves Astoria but they aren’t together like that and fidelity isn’t a requirement of their marriage anyway; someone else would have to make the first several dozen moves before he would notice being flirted at, though! READ MORE)

Married to Astoria Greengrass. One might think it would be difficult for a lesbian witch to be married to a panro-ace wizard, but their marriage was never about romance. Yes, Draco very much considers Astoria someone he loves -- but what kind of love? Even he wouldn’t be able to answer that question, especially not these days. Astoria’s current state of vampiric infection makes her...strange. The guilt of not being able to cure her eats away at him too, and affects his every interaction with her. He’s an expert potioneer; why can’t he fix this? She’s his wife, why can’t he save her? His parents managed to keep each other (more or less) safe throughout two wars and a volatile Dark Lord; how could he be so inferior as to be unable to save his spouse from some stupid infection? An infection over which his mother initially wanted Astoria banished from the home, incidentally -- marking one of the few times when Draco has actually vehemently disagreed with Narcissa Malfoy. (One of the others was when he took the Dark Mark; he hopes that this doesn’t turn out like that but sometimes on the worst days, he wonders if his mother was right and keeping Astoria at home is dangerous -- possibly for their son!?) But infected or not, unclean or not, Draco knows he will always love Astoria.

That doesn’t mean he’s sleeping with her, though -- or that he wouldn’t sleep with someone else. Fidelity was never considered an integral part of a successful marriage in his social circles; indeed, a couple that spends so much time in one another’s beds as his parents do is the oddity rather than the norm. (Not that the two of them, especially Lucius, haven’t visited a number of other beds in their time, sometimes apart and sometimes together -- but Draco never found it nearly as entertaining as some of his friends back at Hogwarts did to talk about that.) A dalliance or even a love affair -- or a dozen -- on either his part or Astoria’s wouldn’t impact how Draco thinks about his wife or their marriage at all. Why would it? If he wasn’t something of a social pariah, he probably would have had a dozen little affairs by now -- but it’s not like he cares enough to miss the lack either (only even thinks about it when his father starts lamenting Draco’s lack of interesting experiences). It’s just the sort of thing one expects, that’s all. Of course, these days Draco’s a bit preoccupied, and hunting down vampires doesn’t leave a lot of time for dalliances...but if that leaves his bed a bit cold, it’s not something he’s ever noticed. 

MultiParagraph or Multi Point Topics

Family: 

Nothing matters more to Draco. Growing up, he idolized his parents and thought them perfect; his father was Draco’s model for idealized wizarding masculinity and Draco was determined to follow in his footsteps in every way. Even now, having been brought (quite painfully) face-to-face with their flaws and failings, he still adores and admires them. Not only did they always dote on him (maybe more than they should have) but during the war they proved over and over that they were each of them willing to die for his sake without hesitation -- something that was more than enough to erase any potential resentment he might have felt at having been forced into such misery by their choices. Yes, these days he knows that there are things they were wrong about -- but he still trusts their judgement in most areas, still values their opinion. Still loves them. They made it through a war together on the strength of that love; in these dark days, he still draws comfort from it.

The most important person in Draco’s life today isn’t his parents, though, or even his wife; it’s Scorpius, his precious son and only child. Growing-up in a house with four doting adults and little in the way of child companions meant that Scorpius’s childhood was never lonely but also did little to prepare him for peer socialization. He was always precociously clever; these days he qualifies as an unabashed swot and a distinct introvert. While he has the customary Malfoy sharp silver tongue, he substitutes defensive insecurity for swagger and brittle pride for arrogance. His recent appointment to Chaser on his house team has helped him build a few tentative bridges to his housemates, but his closest friends remain fellow Slytherin Albus Potter and Albus’s cousin, Rose Granger-Weasley. They aren’t the friends that Draco would have chosen for his son, but he has come to appreciate them deeply for the support and affection they offer Scorpius. (Even if Draco still tries to have as little to do with their families as possible.) 

Draco’s affection for his son was always torn in two directions: wanting to give him anything and everything that would make him happy, and wanting to raise Scorpius to be a better person than he ever was himself. The latter did result in more than a few lectures (much more than a few) but that didn’t mean Draco wasn’t still an indulgent parent and Scorpius did indeed receive just about anything he ever asked for, materially. Draco would give his son everything he wanted, if he could -- but even his best efforts can’t cure Scorpius’s mother.

Scorpius was only four when Astoria was infected; when Astoria changed. Sometimes she still seems like herself (less and less each year, though -- or is that just in Draco’s head?) and they can all pretend that everything is fine; others...well. Draco has explained to Scorpius many times that the things his mother thinks she sees aren’t real. (Probably.) That he shouldn’t listen to them, worry about them. And Scorpius says he understands...but Scorpius was four and she’s his mum. While he doesn’t tell his father, he secretly believes every word that comes from his mother’s mouth. He thinks of her less as a Seer and more of a prophet, different from everyone else’s mother yes -- but special-different, not worse. He doesn’t talk about those thoughts to anyone, even Albus and Rose (maybe it would be better if he did; maybe someone could explain things to him better now that he’s older) but instead he nods seriously at all his father’s admonishments and his grandparents’ words of caution...and then goes and listens to his mother anyway.

It probably won’t lead to disaster. His mother would never hurt him, after all -- never tell him anything she’s seen that might lead him to do something dangerous. Not on purpose, anyway.

Childhood/Hogwarts: 

(I’m going to go short on this part because A: I’ve rambled far more than I should have elsewhere and B: we know a lot of this from the books already, so if there’s any part of this I can get away with truncating to compensate for the rest, it’s this!)

Draco was a bully and a bigot and a brat; there’s no denying this. He was spoiled absolutely rotten, and it showed. He also genuinely loved his parents, and they loved him back, although perhaps not always in the most healthy of ways (see: aforementioned spoiling). He had a very good childhood, although school wasn’t as great as he’d expected -- for one thing, stupid Harry Potter didn’t want to be his friend even though he was clearly the coolest person in the whole castle, and for another this horrible Mudblood kept outscoring him in everything. (Potter even managed to out-cheat him at Quidditch every time!) But otherwise, everything was more or less okay -- until the Dark Lord came back, and it all fell apart. Draco went from being a pampered little prince to sobbing in the loo with only a dead girl for company; his two best friends stopped believing in him; Harry Potter nearly killed him; he nearly killed a lot of other people; and then when his favorite teacher finally got appointed headmaster it still didn’t make things better. In the end, despite all of Draco’s efforts he really accomplished nothing. He didn’t decide the outcome of the war; all he did was lose a friend and somehow make it out alive with his parents by the skin of their collective teeth, forgotten and ignored by everyone around them. In the end, he came to nothing and had to count himself lucky for it.

Post Hogwarts: (TW: brief mention of self harm, addiction! Also mentions of other characters that may-or-may-not be considered “game canon” based on discussion with whomever eventually comes to play said characters!) 

Draco knows he’s luckier than he deserves, him and his parents. By rights, all three of them should probably be in Azkaban...but they aren’t. The trials they faced at the end of the war were long, grueling, and humiliating (crying in front of the entire Wizengamot is not an experience that Draco recommends to anyone) and the worst part was that Draco spent the entire process certain that he was going to Azkaban; he only made the effort of testifying with as much honesty and detail as he did because he hoped that his mother, the only one of them not to take the Dark Mark, might be spared incarceration if both he and his father told all they knew. His parents were doing the same thing, largely in hopes of sparing their son from Azkaban -- but fortunately for the Malfoys, what they knew far outweighed what they’d actually done...mostly because they hadn’t actually accomplished much. (If Lucius’s crimes from the first war had been included, things might have gone differently…) Draco failed at just about everything he tried, Lucius had spent most of the war either locked-away or wandless at the Dark Lord’s side, and Narcissa had been “protected” from having to take much action by the combination of her husband’s shame and her sister’s enthusiasm. And then, of course, there was Harry Potter -- surprising witness for the defense. There was no love lost between Draco and his very first enemy, but Harry nonetheless spoke-up for the Malfoys: Narcissa had lied to the Dark Lord, Draco had kept quiet when he recognized them, and Harry had seen through Voldemort’s own eyes that they had not been willing servants -- not by the end, anyway. Somehow, all of that had been enough to spare them…

At least from prison. Public opinion was another matter, so the Malfoys murmured their gratitude, paid their fines, and slunk away behind the walls of their mournful manor, all three of them -- and the house -- much reduced in pride and splendor. Draco spent the next few years wallowing in guilt and nightmares, repeatedly failing to carve the Dark Mark out of his arm, and worrying his parents. Highlights include: a short but bitter confrontation with Gregory Goyle at Vincent Crabbe’s tombstone (not that there was a body to bury, but tradition had to be maintained), a bewildering letter from Pansy regretfully breaking-up with him for the sake of her own future chances (had they been dating?), and a lengthy addiction to Dreamless Sleep Potion (he hadn’t even known you could get addicted to Dreamless Sleep, let alone that repeated doses made it toxic! At least he learned something interesting about potions in the process…). The last thing anyone expected was a wedding to brighten things up, but then again people -- Draco included --  had always underestimated Astoria Greengrass.

Draco, in fact, barely knew who she was -- just the little sister of one of Pansy’s friends whom he knew dimly from school. She certainly made an impression, though, going from introduction to proposal in less than five minutes. It wasn’t romance she was pitching, of course, but a more traditional sort of marriage -- an arrangement of convenience. Draco needed an heir to the family line, she wanted the comforts of wealth and the resources to pursue her interests somewhere no one would bother her (and with access to the right kind of supplies and resources, so she could avoid repeating her Aunt Pandora’s unfortunate fate). The Malfoys needed a dose of respectability, and the Greengrasses were solid middle class pure-bloods who had never been accused of more than peripheral brushes with the Dark Arts. They both stood to gain -- and outliers like Draco’s parents notwithstanding, wasn’t that what all successful marriages were really based on? Certainly in the world in which Draco had been socialized, they were; his parents had always been viewed with bemused confusion for how deeply besotted they were with one another. Marrying Astoria wasn’t an act of passion or romance -- but it made sense. What didn’t make sense to Draco was how easy it was to fall into friendship with the stubborn witch -- but he wasn’t going to complain.

He was happy, which wasn’t something he’d ever expected to feel again after the age of sixteen. And they had a son. Scorpius was the best thing that ever happened to Draco, far better than he deserved -- but he wasn’t going to complain about that, either. One of the many painful lessons he’d learned over the course of his lifetime of mistakes was how to be happy with what he had, and he couldn’t imagine anything better than Scorpius anyway. It wasn’t the sort of “perfect life” he’d anticipated when he was young and foolish -- but it was good.

Until it wasn’t. When Astoria’s magical tinkering left her infected with vampirism ten years ago, the happy illusion of a happily-ever-after fell apart. Draco dove into research, trying to brew a cure -- but nothing worked. He dug deeper, delving into all the family’s information on their pre-Voldemort vampiric connections and then branching-out, calling in the few family favors people were still willing to (or too scared not to) repay and exploring every shabby shop that dealt with the Dark Arts that he could find. He didn’t discover a cure; he did discover that Astoria wasn’t the only recent case of vampiric infection.

Current: 

Draco Malfoy never set out to save anyone but his own family. Unfortunately for Draco’s selfish nature, one of the things he’s learned over the last ten years is that the only way to save Astoria may involve sticking his neck out for other people, too. (Or maybe that’s just the excuse he gives himself. Maybe his pursuit of the vampires who are infecting his world, his home, is more about vengeance than salvation at this point.) That dosen’t mean it’s something that comes naturally to him, or something he likes.

Case in point: he hasn’t bothered to try and convince the wider Wizarding World that they ought to be worried, proactive -- because frankly if he did, who would listen? No, better to keep it to himself because that way at least no one is trying to stop him. Not that such a quest can be a solitary pursuit: one needs resources, information, occasionally even “allies” of a sort (mostly the sort that can be bought with money and favors, not loyalty). Fortunately Draco still has money and the one thing the Malfoy name can still buy aside from gold is favors and connections with those who walk the edges of the Dark Arts (and lower). Not that most of those favors or connections are as open-armed as they once were (turning your back on a Dark Lord and helping to testify against all your old friends so they go to prison while you go free doesn’t do much to endear oneself to anyone) but Draco doesn’t really care if people are grudging or reluctant or downright insulting so long as they do or give him what he needs. This mission isn’t about saving his reputation or restoring the family name; those wistful daydreams evaporated ten years ago. Now he doesn’t even waste time on the hope that Scorpius may be able to redeem their name enough to make a future for himself that isn’t overshadowed by the family’s past; these days, just keeping things from falling apart further is all he can ask.

Of course, he’s doing more than just sitting at home trying to hold his family together. Yes, he spends as much as he can with them -- his son, especially, although that happens less these days now that Scorpius is off at school for months at a time -- but he’s got his mission, too, which can keep him out of the house for days at a time (especially now that Scorpius is at Hogwarts, although with his parents living in the other wing of the manor even when Scorpius was young and Astoria was having a particularly bad day he didn’t have to worry about leaving them alone). There’s nowhere Draco won��t go in his pursuit both of the horrible creatures that are spreading this infection and the knowledge he seeks to cure it -- although it’s certainly easier to get around Knockturn Alley than the halls of the Ministry of Magic, for a Malfoy! He hesitates to involve his son, but on rare occasion he may even ask Scorpius to check something for him in the Hogwarts library, but doing so leaves him sickened at the thought that someone might see and wonder why so he ignores that resource perhaps more often than he should. There’s nothing else he won’t do in his quest, however...even knowing that he ought to be more prudent. It would be awful if the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were to turn suspicious eyes on him, after all -- but he can’t just do nothing, can he?

And maybe, deep down, there’s part of him who still thinks he can get away with it. After all, no matter how repentant he is -- how much he’s changed, how much the way the world views him has changed -- he is still, at heart, Draco Malfoy.

Plots:

#1. The Potters and the Weasleys -- and everyone else whom Draco called “enemy” (or “blood-traitor” or “filthy mudblood” etc) for his entire childhood. Where do they stand now? What happens when they have to work together? When they have to take his word for the things he knows, the expertise he’s accumulated? When he’s the one who knows how to save somebody, not them? When he’s the one fighting the “forces of darkness” while they sat back in ignorant safety as the world quietly shattered around them? Will they be practical about it, will they trust him? Will they be gracious or stubborn, convinced that there are some Marks that can’t be washed away? Will he be an ass? (Almost definitely -- but to what level?)  There’s likely been very little interaction between Draco and most of these people over the last twenty years -- but does that mean the mental scars have softened? How much infected blood does it take to clear away all the blood under the bridge that’s flowed between all of them? I’m looking forward to Draco having to face all the people he’s been avoiding -- and for them to have to (or refuse to) face the fact that this time, he might be on the right side...or is he? In a world where vampirism is becoming more and more common, at what point does a vampire hunter stop being a protector and start becoming the monster? Is Draco once again going to find himself -- this time with the best of intentions -- labeled the bad guy?

#2. Luna Lovegood. She’s more than just “another member of the D.A.” to Draco; she’s the girl who was locked-up in the cellar of his home for months, the girl he was forced more than once to torture. He never thought much about Loony Lovegood before then (she was easy to make fun of, sure, and he’d do so if the opportunity walked in front of him, but she wasn’t someone he was interested enough in to go out of his way to bully her -- he had better targets for that!) but she’s featured regularly in his guilty nightmares ever since. The fact that he later married her cousin just made things more convoluted -- although thankfully the Greengrasses and the Lovegoods had never really had anything to do with one another… Basically: I would love to explore some kind of dynamic with Draco and Luna! Has he been successfully avoiding her since 1998? Did Astoria invite her estranged family to the wedding? Do they run into each other in the shops sometimes -- Draco trying to turn invisible, Luna waving politely? Maybe he tried to apologize once and Luna made him squirm by shrugging it off -- oh well it’s not like you wanted to do it, is it? I could tell that quite well, you’re not a very good liar are you? Anyway, why would I blame you for what Voldemort made you do to me? That doesn’t seem sensible at all...why are you making that face? Have you swallowed a wrackspurt? -- and now every time he sees her, he tries to run the other way out of fears that she’ll be nice. Or maybe she’s not nice. Luna doesn’t seem the grudge-holding sort...but if anything were going to teach her how, surely the Cruciatus Curse would do it! Maybe she doesn’t wave; maybe she scowls until he slithers away, cringing in impotent repentance. Maybe he even tried investing in The Quibbler -- paying to restore the damage the Death Eaters and Hermione had done to the printing press and her father’s home -- as recompense, and Luna threw the money back in his face...or maybe he now, quite unintentionally, owns a “share” of The Quibbler. Something that Pansy and Blaise would probably never stop laughing about if they knew… I don’t know, there are so many options for what direction to take things with the two of them! I’d love to explore ANY.

#3: Infection. This one’s more just for “me” but I love the idea of still-rather-bigoted Draco Malfoy having to cope not just with the fact that his wife has been infected with vampirism (something he mostly did with a lot of denial and cognitive dissonance tbh) but himself, too. In his “career” as a vampire hunter, he must have encountered a few instances of contamination -- nothing permanent, nothing where the blood went both ways -- but temporary infections? Oh, certainly! I expect the first time absolutely tore him to shreds, emotionally. He’s Draco Malfoy. He’s the purest of the pure. How could he be infected? Inconceivable, insupportable! He’d never recover, never be the same -- only he did recover. And then what choice did he have but to keep going? Each time, I think he’s more sickened by the facts than he is by the symptoms themselves; by the fact that he’s been tainted by something impure. And each time he picks himself back up after and keeps going -- but eventually the toll is going to tell. (Either that, or he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that all blood-purity is nonsense, not just the idea that Muggle-borns have “lesser” magic.) Whether this breaks him down or builds him up better, I’m interested to explore this painful process of involuntary self-discovery!

Other:

Attisgalli Corrective Draught -- a gender reassignment potion designed for use by the entire Potterverse fandom. Offered here both as extra detail on what potion Draco takes, and for anyone else who might want to make use of it either as-is or as inspiration for their own creations!

+Fashion Headcanon: The featureless black school robes and ubiquitous pointed hats were a blessing to Draco, although he didn’t realize it at first; he’d grown-up used to his father’s flamboyant style of dress, and the dullness of the Hogwarts student body was wearying...until he started to realize that there were some wix who didn’t think it suitable for a wizard to dress like that. His father didn’t, wouldn’t have, cared; Draco found it a more troubling perspective. (Of course broad-shouldered, boisterous, assigned-male-at-birth Lucius’s masculinity had never been doubted by anyone; even those who despised him or dismissed him as a vain and foppish fool never thought he wasn’t a wizard.) The plain black robes were easier...safer. They didn’t require any thought; didn’t have room for any self-expression that might make a statement. On the one hand, Draco wanted to swagger into a room like his father would have, peacock feathers trailing from his shoulders and glittering gemstones in his hair, grinning in arrogant superiority...but on the other, he didn’t want to be teased for being too girly. (Not after discovering that that was a thing some people said about things.) His fourth year at school was the hardest: starting your very first day of classes by being turned into a ferret and humiliated in front of half the student body would have shaken anyone’s confidence. The fact that things were unsettled at home didn’t help; his father was more distracted than Draco had ever seen him before, and mother was little better, both of them fretting over the impending return of the Dark Lord and trying (and succeeding, then) to keep their son from thinking that would be anything but a good thing. Maybe if Draco had been more open with his parents about his emotional struggles...but he was at a stage of trying to seem grown-up. To prove they didn’t need to baby him anymore. (To prove that he was ready to help the Dark Lord, too.) So he kept quiet...and had them send him a different, plainer set of dress robes for the Yule Ball instead of the flamboyant, Lucius-approved concoction of dripping blue silk and pearl beading that he’d meant to wear initially. Draco felt safer in the plain (but impeccable!) black -- a feeling that never went away. Even today he prefers understated elegance, dark colors that don’t draw the eye; prefers clothing that is protective in its coverage -- high collars and tall boots (the sole concession he makes to modern fashions is to allow the skirts of his robes to sometimes lift enough to show calves and even knees, albeit always suitably clad in hose or tights or trousers; he’s not a barbarian) and of course: long sleeves. No one outside the family has seen past Draco’s wrists in over twenty years and, if Draco has his way, no one ever will.

[droppingpetals]

posting this again bc i still need these . i am here to beg for some new partners over on discord . i have a few very specific plots i'd like to do with my girls , they've all been written out as m/f but could easily be spun into f/f plots too , the point just being that i get to use more of my girls for once ! i've written them all out under the read more - button <3

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 if any of these plots interest you and i'll slide into your dms <3

CONTENTS : crime and mafia elements , gentleman's club , forbidden relationship , long pining , jealousy , sneaking around — give me a plot with a man who works for some sort of crime ring and he's been put in charge of running one of their estates . said estate is a strip club used for money - laundering and whatnot , where he manages to fall for one of the new dancers . give me feelings of jealousy when she's up on the stage , having to sneak around because it's not good for business , finding any and every excuse to spend time together . alternatively a stripper x customer plot . preferred fc for this : kaya scodelario , but open for others .

CONTENTS : period drama , forbidden relationship , affair , sneaking around , neglected housewife — literally just give me a lady chatterley's lover plot . a neglected housewife in whichever time period we choose to do it in finding comfort in someone who works around the estate . her husband is too busy with business to notice her , probably doesn't even care about her . cue a hot affair that turns into proper feelings , he's jealous when she has to return to her idiot of a husband each night when he could treat her much better . making plans of running away and starting over somewhere else . suggested opp for this : jack o'connell , henry cavil , tom hardyl .

CONTENTS : motorcycle club , freshly out of prison , opposites attract , right person wrong time , exes to lovers , affair — high school sweethearts . being a part of an mc is all he's ever known and she's always been okay with that . together since they were fifteen , she's always been supportive of him until something goes wrong and he takes one for the club , ending up in prison for _however long we want_ . she can wait for him or she could move on , already in a new relationships several years later when he finally gets out . cue a hot cat and mouse game when he wants to get her back , she doesn't know what to do because she has a new life but he is her first love and she never really got over him . perhaps they even begin an affair behind her new partner's back , he's desperate to win her back and she's torn between ration and love . open with fcs for this one .

CONTENTS : rock'n'roll , in love with a rockstar , savior's complex , toxic relationships — music artist x his assistant . her traveling with him for tours and attempting to keep everything together behind the scenes due to his issues , she’s pioneering / directing everything since he is often too inebriated to do so and often finds herself questioning why the fuck she is even doing so much for him . at the end of the day it’s because she believes in him so fucking strongly and she's so in love with him , it's one of those hot and cold relationships where one moment he’s pulling her on his lap or into make out sessions in hotels and on the tour bus and the next moment he’s acting as if nothing ever happened . it’s a disastrous back-and-forth playing with fire situation but she just can't let go and he's too stupid to realize what he's got . credits to original poster lavendertonicrps . open with fcs for this one .

some other more loose ideas with no proper plots around them :

friendship where the line between friends and lovers is constantly blurred , one is more smitten and in love , whereas the other thinks it's all just fun and games .

this mafia plot .

this plot based on redeeming love .

this plot based on forever my girl .

any exes to lovers trope ever .

[ghostofviperwrites]

Sacrifice

Requested by @indywrestlinglover-life

Pairing:  Aleister Black/FC

Category:  Suggestive

“They’re coming after me.”  

“Help me Aleister,” You said, skidding to a stop next to the intimidating figure of Aleister Black, who was currently looking down at you as you wiggled yourself between him and the door to his locker room that he was currently trying to enter.  You kept on a brave face refusing to let the man see your fear of him.  Why, out of everyone on the roster, did you pick him to help you? You wondered to yourself. But it was too late now, you had already disturbed him so you may as well go full throttle.  

“Help you with what?”  Aleister asked wondering why this girl he barely knew was asking him for help.

“You have to hide me!” You demanded.  “They’re coming after me and I didn’t do anything to them.  Nothing at all.  Not a single thing.”  You stressed, blatantly lying to the man.  You knew exactly what you did and why they were intent on seeking revenge.

“I usually find that those who so vehemently protest their innocence are not so innocent.”  Aleister said keeping his cool gaze on you as you ducked your head sheepishly after being called out.  “Who exactly is after you and why?”  

“Look Aleister, I will happily answer your questions if you just hide me.  They’re coming, I don’t have time to have an in depth psychological analysis at the moment. Are you going to help me or not?” You asked, frustration mounting as you peered around Aleister’s large frame, trying to see if your enemies had caught up to you.  You almost fell back on your butt when Aleister opened the door behind you, only being saved by Aleister’s quick reflexes as he grabbed your wrist.  Righting yourself you pulled your wrist free and entered his domain.  To your disappointment it was just a standard locker room.  No fog, no dim lighting, no flickering candles, no altars.  Just a plain old room.

“Where’s the altars?”  You blurted out, cursing your lack of filter.  Your mouth was always your undoing.  You had a really bad habit of saying whatever popped into your head.  

“Altars?”  Aleister asked quizzically as he rummaged through his gear.  

“You know, for the sacrifices?” You answered, slapping your hand over your mouth as you seriously considered buying yourself a muzzle.  The dark chuckle that Aleister responded with both excited and frightened you.

“Are you looking to get sacrificed little one?”  He asked turning to face you, his eyes piercing making you feel like he was staring at your soul. “Is that why you came to me?”  

“Nnn..no,” you stuttered with a quick shake of your head.  “I have no desire to be sacrificed.  Nope.  Pretty sure I don’t meet the criteria either.  I’m no virgin.  I’m a bad girl, nothing pure about me. I’m pretty sure they would reject your offering,” You rambled on listing off all the reasons you really wouldn’t be a good sacrifice. Just in case he got any ideas.

“Well that’s good,” Aleister said taking a few steps closer to you, until you had to crane your neck to see his entirely unreadable face. “I don’t sacrifice virgins.  No interest in them. I prefer to take the dirty little girls for a ride.”  Your breath hitched as you couldn’t help but imagine his tattooed hands roaming over your body.  

“There is a price to pay for my assistance.”  He said, hand rising to trail his fingers along your jaw line, moving down to cup his hand around your throat.  “You sought out my help, now are you willing to pay the price to get it?”  He asked. “Or should I throw you back out in the hallway at the mercy of your pursuers?”  

Your eyes darted from him to the door, though really your mind was made up.  You didn’t want to go anywhere.  You were intrigued by Aleister’s proposition and curious to find out what exactly his price was.

“No, I’ll pay your price.”  You said breathlessly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited for his next move.

“Excellent.”  He said giving your throat a tight squeeze and stepping away from you.   “Now get on your knees.”  

[detectivextim]

Have you ever noticed that ( TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE ) from the ( DC UNIVERSE ) looks a lot like ( CHARLES MELTON )? But ( HE ) also go/goes by ( RED ROBIN ). Having the ability to/of ( GENIUS LEVEL INTELLECT, EXPERT MARTIAL ARTIST ) sure makes them a force to be reckoned with. Rumour has it they are ( 22 ) and is working as a ( STUDENT). (ooc; king, he/him, 23, est)

THE BASICS

full name: timothy drake-wayne

dc universe

based off of the dc comics

species: human

age: 23

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: homosexuals

affiliations: Young Justice (leader), Titans (affiliated), Teen Titans (affiliated), Justice League, BatFamily (Adopted Family)

abilities: aviation, master in martial arts, acrobatics, computer engineering, computer hacking, computer operations, stick fighting, escapology, fire arms, Gadgetry, Genius-Level Intellect, investigation, master detective, stealth, lock picking, tactical analysis, stealth, throwing, vehicle

he is the best detective and investigators out of his brothers.

often feels inadequate. but his older brothers are Dick Grayson and Jason Todd and his father is Bruce Wayne or Batman (you choose).

he has a love-hate relationship with Damian.

currently: still doing the vigilante thing, a student at NYU, and being the GOOD SON. (yeah i said it)

fc: charles melton

TIMELINE:

everything for him is canon, in the comics, so feel free to message me if you are connected to him through the comics or have plots that differ in other medias that he is featured in too.

By the age of nine, Drake exhibited a genius level intellect and had deduced the identities of Batman and Robin as Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, after witnessing a gymnastic maneuver by Robin that he previously saw Grayson display in the Haly Circus  

Inspired by the heroes' exploits, Tim trained himself in martial arts, acrobatics, detective skills, and scholastics to better himself both physically and intellectually. When Tim reached the age of thirteen, he saw that Batman had grown reckless and violent following the second Robin (Jason Todd)'s murder.

After his mother's death and his father's paralysis, Drake decided to intervene and Batman eventually enlisted him as the third Robin.

batman was reluctant after jason’s death, but tim proved himself - batman put him through hell of a regimen for training, sent him to various teachers around the world for a solid year, and upgraded the Robin uniform and equipment before allowing Tim to work beside him.

Over the years, he worked not only as Batman's partner on the streets of Gotham City, but also worked with other teenage vigilantes/heroes. Though he started off as the leader of the team known as Young Justice, eventually he followed in the Dick Grayson's footsteps in helping found a new generation of Teen Titans.

Following the deaths of his father in Identity Crisis, his best friend Superboy (Kon-El) in Infinite Crisis, and the presumed death of his friend Stephanie Brown in Batman: War Games, Drake was relocated to Blüdhaven, the city where Nightwing fights crime, for a period of time in order to escape the "ghosts" of Gotham City and to stay close to his stepmother Dana Winters who was admitted into a Blüdhaven clinic after going into psychological shock over Jack Drake's murder at the hands of Captain Boomerang.

Tim Drake was then given another redesign of the Robin costume with a red and black color scheme. The colors are those of Superboy's costume,

After an event known as Final Crisis seemingly led to the death of Batman at the hands of Darkseid, Tim was seemingly the only person who believed that Bruce Wayne might still be alive.

After Dick Grayson took the mantle of Batman and gave Damian Wayne the role of Robin, Tim left Gotham City.

He donned the costume of Red Robin and began his search for Bruce, following a trail of clues around the world, and getting some unexpected assistance from Ra's Al Ghul and the League of Assassins along the way.

this is where I get creative

he still goes by red robin, when in disguise.

he still lives in the wayne manor, but not bothered by it since he feels included when he does have all his brothers around or have small talks with alfred.

he is currently enrolled in a computer engineering major, criminal justice major, and taking culinary arts classes. doesn’t know if he wants to follow in dick grayson’s footsteps with being in law enforcement or venture out to something on his own.

leader of the young justice team.

trying to find a cool weapon - he loves the bo staff, but is thinking of ways to enhance it.

i think thats all i got for now.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

BatFamily!! Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Stephanie, Cassie, ALFRED, all of the above. He wants connections with them hard. They are his new family and he loves them to hell and back even if he feels inadequate to them at times.

KON-EL. I am a sucker for TIMKON, but if now we can settle for them being besties, but tim will look so fight us.

Young Justice. He is the leader of this team and he wants it here.

friends? – he may not have many, since he is kinda reserve, but I think some to have would be great. maybe even a close friend (could be from marvel or oc) that he’s showed around the Wayne Manor.

foes – i am sure he has a million from being red robin and from being bruce wayne’s son

exes – we could all use these connections.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Amelina Martinez. Your request to change her FC to Emeraude Toubia has also been approved. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: I’m very excited for the future plotting! - Admin J

IC INFORMATION — CHARACTER DESIRED Amelina Martinez DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS I think the word that stood out to me most in Amelina’s bio is 'obsessed’. Her obsession with avenging Luis and her obsession with bagging Morgan seem to stem from the same unexpressed need. She’s stuck always being that 14 year old girl, never able to move on from seeing her brother selling drugs and then later finding out he was dead. The two events are sort of locked into her head, and after that, she stopped growing up so much as simply getting older. Other people can move on from grief, but there’s this block there for her, and I think it’s surrounding the fact that they weren’t actually that close, that he’d already been to prison by the time she was starting high school, that it embarrassed her in front of her friends to see her brother like that. I think there was a ton of shame for her with this screw-up of a brother of hers, and not just a little anger. Why couldn’t he just get his shit together and get a real job and be a real man? Maybe she even said that to him, and then later, he was dead, and she never really got to know him, or take back her words, or realize she should have told her parents. That getting him sent back to prison on a parole violation, which her extremely Catholic and law-abiding family would’ve done, would’ve been better than dying on the street like a dog. I don’t think her parents ever got over his death either. Him going to prison was hard enough, but then their eldest son dying before he was 25 just broke them. So there’s this house with three broken people, and they all handle their grief differently. To me, Amelina is Inigo Montoya, preparing to take out the whole damn Costello gang. What’s ironic is that she hasn’t done the math on Luis getting shot and realized he was probably shot by a Sinclair. In another life, Ameline became a cop and worked a gang detail, maybe working undercover. In another life, she became a community organizer and worked at a youth centre helping to keep other kids from ending up like her brother. In another life, she got married too young to a boy a lot like Luis and got sucked into a shitty life because she felt like she deserved it, as some sort of punishment. In this world, she swore revenge. She became a spy from the beginning, learning about a world that she had no doorway into by sheer will. She spent 15 years figuring out how to get access to a gang, when she could’ve just joined up. But she isn’t interested in being her brother and owned by someone else. She wants to own them. Which leads me to her interest in Morgan. Now, Morgan has a lot of animal magnetism and is obviously gorgeous, but I don’t really think if he were just a man, Amelina would look twice. I don’t even think it’s the power and the privilege he has, though she probably thinks that’s what it is, that drives her to him. She tells herself she wants to be his wife, to supplant Penny, to satisfy him on some level that he no longer feels, but I think those are just surface thoughts. What Morgan actually is for her, is death. Her death drive is jacked all the way up, not to the point of suicide, but to the point where death seems like an acceptable outcome if the result is revenge. She’s had this need for so long, she can’t plan for the future anymore. She can’t have dreams, she can’t have plans, she only has this one thing, and Morgan will use her to get it, and he won’t care if he breaks her to do it, and she wants that so badly. Everyone else in her life looks at her and wants to protect her or love her or just views her as unimportant. Only Morgan looks at her and sees a weapon. And that’s what she’s turned herself into. She can run a half-marathon in an hour and forty five minutes, she’s learned Krav Maga, she has killer aim, and most of all, she can lie so well that even she believes it sometimes. All she needs is for someone to just pull the trigger and fire her at the enemy. What was she up to in those fifteen years? Can you get experience in revenge? She couldn’t exactly go out and find a swordmaster to train her or something. She got a series of jobs that she hated and never got a promotion because she couldn’t care less. She went to school but never finished that accounting degree, or information management diploma, or even that administrative assistant certificate, because the idea of being anything for the rest of her life seems impossible to imagine. She made friends she couldn’t hold onto, and had relationships she didn’t care about, and she just … absorbed information. She went to Costello clubs, she hung with Costello people, she learned about them, and by doing so, learned about the Sinclairs. It actually took her a while to realize the Sinclairs were useful, because at first she thought she could do it all on her own, like people in the movies. After years of collecting evidence, only to realize it was useless because no one was going to prosecute them, and punishment meant nothing to people who owned the system, she finally turned her attention to the Sinclairs, under the principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. WRITING SAMPLE Her target, Luca Costello, was drunk as shit and just turned 18. Spending money like it had an expiration date and begging girls to help him celebrate. She wondered if he even knew what his family did for a living. On the one hand, how could he not, when he was surrounded by it all the time? But on the other, how could he really understand what they did and still throw bills around like the world was a game and he’d already won? “Hi.” “Hey. You’re … pretty. You wanna get married?” This wasn’t what she’d imagined. Was it really this easy? “I wanna go back to your place. Take me home.” “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that, we can totally … I have coke at home. And like, every booze. All the booze. I’ll even order pizza if you want!” He smiled and touched her hair. She let him. It didn’t matter what he did. None of it mattered. It was all just research.               *** He lay on the bed, passed out after she’d fed him three more drinks and listened to him tell her about some girl named Juliet and how she’d broken his heart again. He’d done a few lines of coke and that had pretty much made him tell her everything she could’ve ever wanted to know, and several things that she didn’t, about his life. It was kind of sad how little there was of it. His beloved twin sister, who sounded like a little bitch, his parents who were equal parts proud and disappointed in him, his friends who sounded like the worst sort of entitled pricks, his older siblings who seemed barely aware of him and who were embedded in the business enough to be soaked in blood. Climbing off him, her t-shirt left back in the living room, since breasts seemed to make men more chatty, and her pants by the side of the bed, to give him hope that they might actually fuck, she sat on the bed and just breathed. What the fuck did she do now? She’d thought this part would be the complicated part, that she’d have to jump through hoops, talk her way in, be so smooth that no one suspected anything. She hadn’t really let herself consider what happened next. Mostly all she could think about was the other Costellos. It was obvious Luca wasn’t really involved in the business, but they were. The oldest ones might even have been a part of the business when Luis was still alive. Had they put him on that street corner where he died? Was he just a scratched out line for them in some notebook somewhere? Did they even care? How could they not realize that their choices had left a fucking cemetary worth of bodies in their wake? Did they look in the mirror and see a monster? She was up and pacing and hadn’t even noticed. No one had ever taken anything from them. No one had ever made them face the cost of 'doing business’ before. They were all pampered, precious little vampires sucking the blood out of Chicago’s poor and desperate. She was back on the bed now, straddling him, staring down at his sleeping face that had never known real pain. What did he have to grieve? A girl who didn’t fall at his feet? He was a stupid little boy, a waste of education and opportunity. He’d had everything that she and Luis hadn’t, and he hadn’t become anything more than they had. It was hard to look at him. He was a boy, younger than Luis, his hair curling at the edges. He was a Costello, his very existence an insult to her own loss. She had a pillow in her hand and pressed it against his face. He didn’t even struggle. He could die like this, and maybe his family would think it was just some sort of freak accident. They would know just a fraction of what she felt, with their money insulating them from anything real. They’d know something, even if they didn’t even know her brother’s fucking name. He was moving a little under her, trying to push her off, when she heard a noise. A door opening. Was someone else home? Had someone come in and she hadn’t heard them? Was it the police? The rest of the Costellos? Did they somehow all know what she was doing? Lifting the pillow away, Lina froze and Luca took a breath. He coughed and his hand reflexively grabbed her bare thigh where it pressed against his. She was straddling Luca Costello’s thighs in a mismatched bra and panties, clutching her murder weapon to her chest like she was about to start a pillow fight. There was a man standing in the doorway looking at her. He didn’t look embarrassed, which was the part that confused her. They both looked at each other for a moment, and Lina needed to think of a lie. Nothing stuck in her head, everything was blank. She knew, on some level, she was panicking. She managed to choke out a gasp, and hopped off of Luca and onto the floor. Stumbling, the blood rushing away from her head where it had been pounding moments before, her feet numb from kneeling on them, she moved like a drunk co-ed. Yes, drunk. She was drunk. She was just another drunk girl, probably one of dozens that Luca brought home. “Oh my God, what’re you doing here?” Her voice was unsteady and breathy, but that was normal, right? Was anything normal? “My cousin texted me that he’d just proposed to his future wife. You two aren’t married, are you?” The question was so unexpected that Lina just automatically shook her head and held out her left hand, as if showing that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring was the normal response in these situations. “Good. His mother would kill me if he got married the day he turned legal.” The man, Luca’s cousin, didn’t even seem to be really talking to her, he wasn’t even looking at her directly. “Could you … maybe put something on?” Snatching the sheet off the bed, Lina wrapped herself in it and sank to the floor, so much adrenaline in her system that she couldn’t breathe and could taste her own heartbeat. “I’m feeling … woozy. Can you find my shirt?” She just needed him to leave, to go away. He’d seen her face, but what were the odds he’d be able to ever recognize her again? If he would just leave, she could … Luca made a noise like a sad puppy on the bed and fell off of it onto the floor. He didn’t wake up, but was now curled up like a baby. Why had the cousin come home? Why was he here? What kind of fucked up family were they? “I don’t think I know you. What’s your name?” Oh fuck. He knew. He knew she wasn’t one of Luca’s friends, he knew something was up. Someone at the club had warned him, maybe? She didn’t know. But he didn’t know what she didn’t know, did he? She was just a dumb drunk girl. “I’m Lina. Luca told me he had coke. He asked me to marry him but I didn’t say yes … can you see my pants?” Why had she said her real name? She was a fucking idiot. Grabbing her pants, she went to stand up and fell into the bed, knocking herself into the arms of the cousin. She was pressed against his body, and he had a gun, it felt like a bad joke, is that a gun I feel or are you just happy to see me? Only it was a gun, it really was. And he was looking at her now, and she did the only thing she could think of. She passed out, dead dropping in his arms. He carried her. That was the crazy part. He carried her to the living room like something out of a romance movie, only it wasn’t romantic at all, and then just stared at her for a moment. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell somehow, that he was watching her. Trying not to shake, or even breathe too hard, she lay there and wondered if this was the part where he shot her. Was he going to press the muzzle to her head, or just pull the trigger? Would she hear it coming before she died? Christ, was this how it had felt to be Luis? She couldn’t even cry, weirdly calm, like there was a wall and all her fear was behind it, waiting to crash over her, but she couldn’t quite feel it yet. “Amelina Belinda Pilar Martinez. Where do you live?” Oh Christ, he knew she was awake, he was talking to her, oh God, she was going to die now. But then she realized what she was hearing. He was going through her wallet. The wallet that had been in the pants she was holding when she pretended to pass out. Oh fuck, this was even worse. He knew who she was. He knew her name. He had her goddamn driver’s license. “Mike, can you bring the car around? Yes, Luca’s. Just a girl. They’re both passed out, I don’t want her getting into more of his nose candy and OD'ing. Yeah, exactly. I’ll stay with him, make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. Yes, well, it is his birthday. See you soon.” Lying there, a cold certainty hit her. She wasn’t prepared for this. She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. She didn’t even know which fucking cousin this guy was. She’d made all these lists, all these observations, all these half-baked plans, but she hadn’t done anything about them. Here she was, lying on Luca Costello’s floor, and she had no idea what to do. What if anything had gone wrong before this? What if Luca had woken up while she’d been smothering him? Christ, what if Luca had been playing music and she hadn’t heard his cousin come in? She could just give up. Admit that it had all been stupid. Go back to her pointless life and just keep living, day in and day out, and eventually die, having accomplished nothing. Fuck that. She would just have to figure out how to be better. She would. And then next time, she’d know what to do. And she’d never feel like this again. EXTRAS She reads the tabloids religiously to keep up with the Costello siblings. Not necessarily a playlist, but pretty much the new album from Billie Eilish is Lina’s soundtrack right now, with a lot of Lana Del Rey thrown in and the Kill Bill soundtrack on top (just because she loves that movie and has seen it 10 times).

Her favourite book is the Count of Monte Cristo.