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divineerdrick · 1 month
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Warhammer: Age of Sigmar Reveals From the Dallas Open 2024
Alright!
When Age of Sigmar 4th Edition was revealed, I was a bit down on it. Part of this was just hearing regurgitated marketing from 10th Edition. Part of it was I didn't like the way they did the reveal show. Part of it was I didn't like the Stormcast half of the cinematic trailer (the Skaven half was awesome!). But, I've been following the reveals for AoS4, including Vince Venturella's Warhammer Weekly podcast. And, with some exceptions, I like what I've seen. I'm still worried, especially for another "buggy" launch, but I do like what they've shown. Tonight, they're doing a big reveal show from the Dallas Open, and I'm hoping to see more.
What I Expect
As almost everyone does, I'm expecting to see the launch box revealed in full. I'm pretty sure we'll get a nice presentation of all the new plastic coming, the new cover of the new rule book, and maybe a few other noteworthy inclusions (got my fingers crossed here.) I'm also expecting to see a few more rules teasers, probably unit profiles for some of the new models. And honestly, that's all I'm actually expecting to see. That's basically what we got with the full Leviathan reveal, and I think that's probably most of what we'll get here too. If we're lucky, we might get to see the two new Spearheads for Stormcast and Skaven, as they're probably in the box.
What I'm Hoping For
However, they need not stop there. First, let's talk inclusions for that big box. I'm hoping it will come with a Battle Tactics deck similar to the Leviathan deck for 40K. We've already seen that the basic Battle Tactics module for AoS4 is pretty bad. But the Battle Tactics deck coming with Spearhead looks awesome, and is very reminiscent of Leviathan. I really want there to be something similar for core AoS.
Next, it would be really nice if they actually put some terrain in the box. This is a reach, since they haven't boxed up any terrain for some time now (outside of ultimate starter sets.) But with new terrain rules it would be nice to see some new terrain. This is very much not likely, but we might see some new Skaven terrain pieces that will be sold later or possibly in some ultimate starter set.
Finally it would be nice to see a roadmap for AoS4 releases. The releases for 40K have been coming nice and fast. I'm hoping they're planning something similar for AoS.
The "Live" Show
D'oh! I it looks like another prerecorded show!
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And there's all our shiny new Stormcast!
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Love this Lord-Vigilant on Gryph-Stalker!
Yep its prerecorded interviews on the couch . . .
At least it feels like we're getting more of the minis this time, with multiple views and angles and even different lighting. That's an improvement at least.
"More to come." Better be more, we still got Skaven.
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And here are the rats!
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Yes! Rat Ogors! They look awesome!
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We've already seen the Jezails and the Engineer.
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Finally our big rat on a big rat!
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Love this warp blaster! I'm just all about this.
And back to the interviews! "Yes, players. We here at GW also are constantly waiting for our ranges to get refreshed!" I don't know if this is all the models, but it doesn't feel like enough Skaven for the amount of Stormcast we saw. Like, I feel like there should be a lot more Skaven.
Okay, so with this book reveal, that's probably the box. But they say they're more announcements coming. Let's see what they have planned.
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Looks like this box will come with a separate campaign rulebook.
Oh nope! It's the rules for Spearhead games!
And back to the couch! Here are those marketing points again . . .
Okay, these second and third points are actually new. We know they were building up interactivity in AoS 3rd, but they're trying to keep that going. And from the previews, that seems to be true.
The final point about keeping games close with lots of back and forth moments makes me hope again that we'll get some kind Battle Tactics deck. I'm always a little leery of there being too many catchup mechanics. Again, sometimes the right answer is to shake hands and rack up again. I don't want games to feel like they're scripted. It stifles strategy and can make games predictable.
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Oh! We're getting a simplified version of the Generals Handsbook!
Okay, we already knew about Spearhead, but here are the Skaven and Stormcast Spearheads. As expected, you can make them out of the launch box.
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Sneaking in some new ones too, or at least teasers for them.
Looks like they're going to try to keep the stats the same, even if the rules are unique, so it's somewhat easier to go from Spearhead to the core game. Already had a little difficulty taking new players from Combat Patrol to 40K.
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Don't know if these are from the Vanguards but we've got images of some Nurgle vs. Seraphon.
Okay! We still have some more! Maybe I'll get some of my wishlist tonight!
So here's the full boxset reveal.
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Yeah, 24 Stormcast to 50 Skaven doesn't quite seem right. That is a lot of minis though. These are just all fantastic models. We'll be going through those on their own in a bit.
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Wow! There is a bit, even if only a little bit, of terrain in the box! I'm honestly surprised!
And with that! Hi Adam! Hi Paul!
Okay, other than some Spearhead teasers this was honestly just the boxset stretched out into a 30 minute show. We did get a lot of looks at the miniatures this time, but that's basically it. There were a couple of different tidbits in the interviews, but honestly nothing we haven't already gotten from WarCom.
This really was just 30 minutes of one box.
Oh well, the WarCom articles should be up soon and we'll go through them one by one.
The Miniatures
While the show was honestly stretched out a lot, and didn't really have anything new other than the box contents, there were a lot of miniatures. And we got some loving shots of them this time!
Lord-Vigilant on Gryph-Stalker
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Absolutely fantastic piece! While Stormcast helmets can be kind of bland, the crown is nice and the Gryph-Stalker looks incredibly regal.
Lord-Veritant
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They Gryphs don't stop though! Here we have a kind of blind seer look. Again, this model drips character. And there's something about that Gryph-Hound that looks like they are done with your nonsense.
Lord Terminos
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The model for our perspective character from our new cinematic looks absolutely fantastic. They look like they're waiting in silent meditation, along with their attendant, for that moment that Sigmar determines they're needed. I love the details on the cloak too.
Knight-Questor
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Another model that left the helmet at home, this one has a very grizzled veteran look that goes well with their lore.
Reclusians
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Some of our line Stormcast, also with mortal attendants. Again, amazing amount of detail on these miniatures.
Prosecutors
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Here we get my first miss. Most of this is the faces. There's something about them that has kind of that exaggerated, Dredd style faces I've never been particularly fond of. Also the flames coming out of the wings aren't working for me. It feels like they were trying to depict feathers made of magic flame, and I just don't feel they got there.
Liberators
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On the other hand, the Stormcast mass melee has never looked better! These models look absolutely fierce!
And with that, those are our Stormcast models. Now let's look at our rats!
Clawlord on Gnaw-Beast
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Look at him! Look at him! He just looks so awesome and that gnaw-beast looks so nasty! I would not want to get bit by that! Just glorious!
Grey Seer
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I absolutely love this, but I'm having trouble coming up with why. There's a very sinister aspect that's definitely helping. But then I see those rats coming out of the cracked bell. Absolutely awesome!
Rat Ogors
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Possibly my favorite new models. What can I say? I love my big monsters. But seriously these look epic!
Ratling Warpblaster
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I love steampunk, and Skaven tech (as well as Kharadron) have a very nice steampunk aesthetic. The goggles and his intense aiming also remind me a bit of WoW style Gnome/Goblin engineering. And it's all contrasted by the absolute raggedness of the Skaven pushing the machine.
Warlock Engineer
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And here's one that's a slight miss, emphasis on slight there, but I honestly can't tell you why. I think maybe they look just a bit too dignified? I'm really struggling to explain why this isn't working for me.
Clanrats
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And here they are! Our new clanrats! And they're an appropriately motley crew. Lots of fun here!
Warplock Jezzails
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I've seen these already too, and I still love them. I like the design of the shield and brace. And I absolutely love the sinister expressions on these rats, befitting a sneaky sniper assassin.
Final Thoughts
So this was all box and miniatures, as I said, stretched out over 30 minutes. We really didn't get a lot of new info, save for some teased Spearheads and the surprise of a Spearhead book and GHB in the box. Oh yeah! And somehow I got my wish for a handful of terrain for this launch box!
Miniature wise we're a little bit more than Leviathan, though there were a handful of really big kits in that box. We technically did get two books in Leviathan, as the Leviathan book included the Leviathan Crusade book. The hardcover Spearhead book will be nice, though I'm pretty sure that will be available free online.
But Skaventide is also including a lot of play aids, including cards for both the Warscrolls and GHB rules. On the balance I think they'll be mostly comparable boxes.
And I love Skaven! I love villain factions that are full of character and personality, and Skaven have it in spades! And I really do love the new Stormcast models too. But I'm a little sad that GW has decided to keep using Stormcast as their launch faction. I know they're the poster child for AoS, but I feel that things like this have a huge effect on how factions are perceived. New factions in launch boxes experience spikes in popularity. Where as if one faction is constantly focused on, well just look at all the Ultramarines memes.
Tomorrow we go back to the grimdark future. But I don't feel like reacting to another of the prerecorded shows. I think I might, emphasis might, watch it, but then just look at the miniatures on WarCom. I want them to go back to actual live shows with at least some audience interaction.
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tennessoui · 1 year
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Omg the Vowbreaker ficlet. I can't resist and imagine an AU for your AU. What would happen if Cody wouldn't know that Obi-Wan is still alive and slowly his feelings for Anakins change. It isn't love but something else because he doms him and sleeps next to him and cares for him and somehow something develops. How would Obi-Wan react? He destroyed Anakin and he made Cody into the pseudo Dom for his beloved. Cody is his 'brother'. Would he kill Cody?
ooo idk if i can really weigh in on this in that i'm obikin-only in like. the most extremely extreme ways that i can't imagine cody and anakin ever together even though the lines of their relationship are blurring in vowbreaker--it just doesn't work with my brain
but at the same time when i knew that i wanted the cody&anakin relationship to be explored in vowbreaker (if only to make the betrayal hurt all the more after), i also figured there'd be a lot of moments i wrote that toe the platonic/sexual line so much that people who do and can ship stuff other than obikin would think well....maybe that could work....
and i thought about if i was ok with that, and tbh i really am!! but i also don't think i can really entertain the idea cause it's just not for me. i can't see anything really developing between them because this anakin is always going to be only obi-wan's, and honestly i can't see cody softening that much
but i admit it would definitely be an interesting dynamic and crisis of faith and it would feel like a betrayal in obi-wan's eyes which would be interesting as well......but i can't really i really can't
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dangraccoon · 3 months
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What I Said
Tech x f!reader (she/her pronouns, otherwise undescribed)
Warnings: Reader is a civilian journalist, jealousy, misunderstandings, pining, Tech is autistic, Kaminoans were assholes, The Bad Batch was abused as children, Referenced Past Child Abuse, it gets a little whumpy but has a happy ending!
All Mando'a used is translated within the story!
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Tech’s brow furrowed as you talked animatedly to Wrecker and Echo around the fire. He buried himself in his datapad again, hoping to tune out the nonsense spewing from you to his brothers’ delight. You were too busy telling them about the stories you had woven to notice his frustration, but Hunter certainly did. 
He got up, moving from his quiet spot at the edge of the clearing to sit next to his irritated brother. 
“Tech?” he questioned. 
“Yes, Hunter?”
“What’s wrong?”
Tech momentarily paused his scrolling. “It is of no importance,” he decided. 
Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Tion’cuyir bic kaysh?” [Is it her?]
“Ibac cuyir dini’la,” Tech rolled his eyes. [That is mad.]
“Gar ru'kir cuyir or'atu irudayc at kaysh,” Hunter chuckled. “Gar ru'kir cuyir ori’jaytyc.” [You should be more friendly to her. She is very nice.]
“Vod, gar ganar noy'ganyc gar kov'nyn o'r te akaan. Ni cuy' ratiin irudayc.” [Brother, you have lost your head in the war. I am always friendly.]
“Ibac cuyir osik bal gar kar'taylir bic,” Crosshair drawled from behind them. [That is dung and you know it.]
Great, Tech thought, rolling his eyes. 
“O'r haa'keb, Ni mirdir kaysh guuror te dala ori’sol,” Crosshair smirked. [In fact, I think he likes the woman a lot.]
“Ibac cuyir ogir'olar,” Tech growled, a little too quickly, but breathed a quiet admission to himself, as well as Hunter. “Kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la.” [That is irrelevant. She is very clever, and beautiful.]
“Hey,” Wrecker shouted across the fire. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?”
Tech’s brow furrowed even more as he went back to his research on his datapad. He hoped that the light of the fire disguised the flush of his cheeks as you carefully observed the group. 
You could tell they were talking about you. The boys didn’t have full conversations in mando’a much, usually only utilizing a word or two. You felt your embarrassment heat your face, and you listened to Crosshair and Wrecker bicker about private conversations. Using the growing debate as cover, you rose from the rock you’d been perched on, quietly making your way back to the ship.
Once you were securely in your bunk room, you let out a long sigh. It seemed like the boys were bickering more and more lately and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault. 
A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. 
“Who is it?” you called. 
“Echo,” he replied. 
You slid the door open, inviting him in. 
“What’s up?” you tried to ask nonchalantly. 
“Are you okay?”
That caught you off-guard. You’d been with the Bad Batch for almost 3 standard weeks. Sure, you got along fine with them - well most of them - but it wasn’t like you were particularly close. 
“Fine,” you shrugged. “Just got tired, I guess.”
“I’m sorry about the others,” he said abruptly.
You hummed a little. You didn’t think anyone needed to apologize, especially Echo, who didn’t get involved.
“Right, well- um, have a good night,” he mumbled, giving you a curt nod before retreating from the room, closing the door behind him. 
–––––
The next few days felt rocky, even though most of the squad seemed fine, one member was particularly snarky. Tech wasn’t happy with his brothers, and he made sure they knew. He acted no differently than he had before with you. Indifference seemed to seep off of him when you were near, but he’d leave the space when you joined it, if possible. 
By the third day of Tech’s snippiness, you’d had enough, and had begun avoiding him entirely. You were starting to feel irritated knowing that you caused whatever his issue was, but the rest of the squad was taking the brunt of Tech’s anger, and overhearing his conversation with Echo pushed you over the edge. You needed to end this.
Everyone else was out to restock supplies, leaving just you and Tech left on the ship as he worked on repairs. You sat quietly, working on your data pad, nerves starting to get the better of you.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tech called your name from the cockpit.
“Y-yeah?” you stuttered.
“I could use an extra set of hands,” he replied easily.
When you entered the cockpit, Tech was sprawled out underneath the control panel, arms elbow deep in the inner workings of the Marauder.
“How can I help?” you asked.
“Well, you can start by getting down here; you’re of no use to me up there,” he said. He thought he said it jokingly. You thought he was snapping at you.
“There’s no call to be rude,” you muttered under your breath, but still plopped down on the floor next to Tech, who scowled at the misunderstanding.
“Now, I cannot let go of these wires here, so you need to take the shrink tubing and put it in place on the other end so that when I reconnect the wires, they will hold in place,” he explained.
You sighed quietly. You’d have to lay on the floor next to him. As you do so, you catch Tech watching you from the corner of his eye. Or at least you thought you did, the moment was so quick. You look under the panel, seeing the parts he was talking about. You picked a piece of shrink tubing up, placing it between your lips so you didn’t lose it. You had to scoot closer to Tech to reach the panel, damn his long arms. The top of your head was inches from his temple now as you scowled up into the machinery. You swear you felt his gaze on you as you worked in the panel. No doubt he had a criticism of your technique or a more efficient way of doing the simple task.
Tech’s mind was running. She agreed to help him, despite the cold shoulder you had recently been giving him. Did that mean you had forgiven him? Could you possibly feel for him as he did for you? No. He refused to let his hopes get the better of him. Yet, here he was, watching you assist him with repairs, laying so close to him, and he couldn’t help but think perhaps the two of you were on a better path. I can fix this, he thought. Perhaps I still have a chance with her.
“Okay, I’ve got the tubing in place. What now?” you asked. When the clone so close to you didn’t respond, you turned your head to meet his eye, almost jumping when you realized he was facing you as well. It took him a moment to come out of whatever stupor he’d found himself in.
Tech shook his head, kicking himself for missing a single word that fell from your lips, a slight blush threatening to creep up from his neck. “Apologies, could you repeat what you said?” 
You huffed a little before repeating your request for the next step. 
“Right,” Tech flustered, going back to working rather than daydreaming about you, feeling his ears go red. 
The two of you worked in tandem, Tech providing instruction on occasion. It was…nice. A little awkward, but nice. Being in such close proximity to a man you were sure hated you was starting to wear on your nerves, so as soon as the four-handed repair was finished, you quickly got up from your spot on the floor, brushing yourself off and beginning to walk away.
Tech panicked internally. “Where are you going?” he asked, sliding out from underneath the panel and sitting up to look at you.
You eyed him suspiciously. “I was going to go for a walk to stretch my legs a little.”
“I see,” he said, looking down at his datapad for a moment before looking back up. “The list of necessary repairs are finished, so I will accompany you.” His heart was pounding in his chest, and he silently thanked the stars for Hunter’s absence. 
“That’s…unnecessary,” you uttered, choosing your words carefully.
“Do not be ridiculous,” insisted Tech. “You are a civilian and this planet is unfamiliar. If you were to run into trouble, you may not be able to protect yourself. It is inadvisable to go alone.”
“Oh, am I ridiculous now?” you fumed. This was the straw that broke the eopie’s back. “And helpless? You’ll have to add those to your list.”
Tech felt like he was experiencing whiplash. “My list?”
“I heard you talking to Echo last night,” you barked. “When he asked you about me you told him that I’m ‘hard-headed’ and ‘inappropriate’. That I’m ‘nosy’, my ‘mind is too high in the clouds’.”
“That’s not- I did not mean-” Tech sputtered, realizing he was rapidly falling into a hole he wasn’t sure how to get out of. 
“‘Didn’t mean it’? Sure,” you spat, spinning on your heel and rushing out of the ship, begging that he couldn’t see the tears streaming from your eyes.
–––––
“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” Hunter demanded.
“She overheard part of my conversation with Echo last night,” Tech replied miserably. You were gone. He’d spent the last hour out searching for you in the jungle that surrounded the ship, but you had turned your comm off.
“The conversation we had last night? You told me you were in love with her,” Echo said, hoping to sooth his bespectacled brother. “Surely she couldn’t be angry about that?”
“She must have left before that,” lamented Tech. His leg was bouncing rapidly as he held his head in his hands. 
“Where are you going?” Echo asked as Hunter turned towards the ship’s door.
“To find the civilian journalist we’re supposed to be protecting,” he hummed, stepping out of the ship.
Hunter could see the traces of you as you’d hurried away from the protection of the Marauder; a few footsteps here, a trace of your scent there, recently broken branches and kicked up leaves. It didn’t take him long to find the small alcove you’d found in the side of a steep, rocky hill that overlooked a river.
He approached you wordlessly, making sure to allow his steps to be quite louder than he typically would - he didn’t want to frighten you, after all.
You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you simply stayed in the position in which he’d found you; your knees pulled up towards your chest, leaning against the cool rock, eyes staring blankly over the river. The two of you sat there in silence; you were replaying the last few days in your head on an endless repeat, he was attempting to find something, anything to say. 
After a few more beats of simple quiet, you both started to speak, breaking off mid-word to allow the other to talk first.
“We haven’t talked about ourselves much, have we? I mean our lives before the war.”
You shook your head. It had always seemed like a sensitive topic, so you’d never pushed it. 
“Our ‘childhood’,” he started, throwing up a set of air quotes. “If you could call it that, well, it wasn’t happy. You know we’re different from the other clones. Well, somehow, the regs didn’t take kindly to that. Most of them anyway. We were outcasts, and before Echo, it was just the four of us. That’s all we ever had, and all we ever needed.
“And then there were the Kaminoans. They were…diligent…in our training. Putting us through exercises the regs didn’t have to. They separated us a lot. I was the leader and they wouldn’t let me anywhere near my brothers during the tests. We were all treated terribly by the Kaminoans, but Tech, he had it the worst. He doesn’t sleep much because they used to keep him awake for days, poking at him, prodding him, pushing him to know more, do more, remember more. He never told us much about the tests. I think he didn’t want to worry us.
“One day he came back to the barracks covered in these little marks. His goggles were broken. He stayed in bed for hours, not moving, just staring at the wall. Then he finally got up, started moving around like a droid. Eventually, he came across a piece of chalk. He started writing on the walls. It was like he was in a trance.”
Hunter’s voice turned dark, his face showing an extreme mixture of disgust, anger, worry. “He was making a blueprint of the suit the Kaminoans were using to train him. It covered his full body with little bits of metal over his pressure points. It was wired to connect to his nervous system. They used it to monitor his emotions, mostly. When he would get excited, they would electrocute him. If he started to fall behind or fall asleep, or if he got overwhelmed. He was in that suit for nearly three days before he finally got sent back to the barracks.
“He refused to show any emotion, even after we graduated and were deployed into the field, for such a long time. If we were all talking, telling stories, laughing, he would just be sitting there. Eventually, the longer we were away from Kamino, he would show little hints that he was still human, like the tiniest bit of a smile. He’d crack jokes. He would get frustrated or angry more often than anything else, though. Those were easier, I guess.
“When Echo joined us, he came to me one night. He said there was something wrong with him, but he didn’t know what. He was shaking uncontrollably, flinching at small noises and his own words. By the time I finally figured out the cause, he was nearly unconscious, basically sleep talking. I don’t know if he really even remembers that night.”
You were stuck silent. 
“All that to say, he has trouble, more so than the rest of us. He still doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. It was bred out of him. He was scared when Echo joined us because he was worried that it would change the dynamic of our squad. He was worried that with Echo’s experience and scomp, he’d be replaced. It took a lot of time and a few missteps, but now they’re practically inseparable.. When you joined us, it was easier for him. You’re not meant to be a permanent fixture, so to him, it’s easier not to get attached. But he did.”
“He…got attached?” you gasped.
“I probably shouldn’t say, but he fell for you. Hard,” Hunter smirked. “The second you smiled at him the day we met you, heh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard his heart beat so loud.”
You felt your face flush and you swallowed hard.
“What I’m trying to ask of you is that you be patient with him. He’s still learning to feel, to act with more than his head.”
“That night…around the fire. What were you saying?”
“Hmm?”
“You were all talking in Mando’a. What were you saying?”
Hunter chuckled. “Well, I was trying to give him a push. He was jealous that you were talking to Wrecker and Echo, but didn’t understand why. ‘Course Crosshair had to start teasing him. That night, he told me ‘kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la’. Almost couldn’t believe he’d even actually said it.”
You looked at Hunter, confusion plain on your face. He grinned and shook his head. “He said you’re very clever,” he chuckled. “And beautiful’.”
“I’ve been so stupid,” you concluded after a few moments of sitting there, your cheeks flaming hot.
“You didn’t know and he’s still learning how to tell you. Just give him time, let him come to you.”
–––––
Hunter returned to the ship with you in tow just as the sun was beginning to set. Three of the squad started asking questions, arguing and teasing each other as you set foot in the ship once more. The presence of a certain set of eyes on you didn’t go unnoticed. 
With the rest of the squad distracted, you sat down near him at his place at the small table.
“Hi,” you nearly whispered, feeling like you were shrinking into the seat.
Tech’s eyes didn’t leave you, even as he said nothing.
“Hunter told me about- well, a little bit- I mean, I couldn’t have- I didn’t know-” you stumbled along trying to find what you were trying to say.
“I meant everything I said last night to Echo,” he asserted. “You are nosy, stubborn, and inappropriate.”
You stared at the table in front of you.
“But Echo helped me realize why you frustrate me so. You are curious, that’s why you seemed nosy. Your will is made of durasteel. You are colorful and wild. You are so similar to myself, yet so different,” he explained. “He helped me come to the logical conclusion after you’d stopped listening.”
“What is the logical conclusion?” you asked, finally looking back at him. His eyes were starry as he looked at you. Despite all knowledge, all fact, all reason, to him you had created the universe for him to explore.
He fidgeted a little, but never took his eyes from hers. “Ni copad kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare, meh gar kelir duumir ni.”
The room fell silent, save for the loud and steady pounding of two hearts. His brothers watched him in awe, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.
“What does that mean?” you whispered as he inched closer to you.
“I wish to know you forever, beloved, if you will allow me,” he whispered back, eyes finally dropping from yours to take your hand between his. 
“Please, cyare, tell me you feel the same?” he pleaded. 
“Tech,” you smiled, using your free hand to cup his cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”
Neither of you knew who closed the gap, but the kiss felt like a revelation. All the misunderstandings, the confusion, the pain, it was all a distant memory. Vaguely, you could hear the hoots and hollers of the brothers behind you, but that didn’t bother you. 
Tech was the first to break the kiss, standing, and pulling you with him.
“Where are you going?” one of the boys called after the pair of you.
“To make up for lost time,” Tech shouted back, closing the door to the cockpit after pulling you through.
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Thanks for reading! - River
Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on Ao3
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Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902
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whiskeynwriting · 2 years
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A Bond to My Soul
Din Djarin x Female Reader
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) king!Din, possessive Din (Jesus yes), size kink, breeding kink, spanking, brief choking, female masturbation, semi-public sex, mentions of battle, brief mentions of death.
A/N: good lord this was so fun to write, also co-written with @phnyx. Shocker, ikr? There’s some Mando’a in here too, but I have the translations for y’all in quotations after the sentences where it’s used ♥️
Din Djarin Masterlist
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It should scare you, the noises in the background. But for some reason, they don’t; if anything, they excite you. Then again, they’re just that, background noise. Your main focus right now is him, how he feels and sounds, the way he moves, the way he touches you. 
This is important to him, he needs to do this before he leaves. If he doesn’t come back, he wants his lineage to last. Foundlings were important to the Mandalorians, of course, but if a bloodline could be passed down, that would be ideal. It wasn’t just about that though, it wasn't just something he saw as his duty. He liked it this way, it was always a preference to him, finishing inside you. The feeling was sensational for him, both during and after. Knowing he was inside you, filling you with warmth and the possibility of carrying… that excited him beyond reason.
“You’re so delicate,” he rasps out, “Orikih.” (Tiny)
“Do you like it, Din?” you return with a satisfied grin, tilting your head so you can press passionate kisses to his neck. 
“Ner laandur dala… I love it; you know this.” comes his immediate response, grunts spilling from his mouth as he punches himself up into you. “It’s so easy, too, so easy to sit you down, move you around like it’s nothing.” (my delicate girl)
Din had pulled you forward onto his lap, forcing your chest to rest against his cuirass. Immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling Din’s primal urges begin to take over; you could sense it just by the way he moved. And when he was dressed like this, you felt every movement he made, his flight suit allowing the two of you the opportunity to be as close as possible without being naked. He wanted you to be, though, he’s always wanted to take you completely bare on his throne. 
“I want to be deep inside, I want to be inside your womb.” He’s groaning and he smiles when he hears you whimpering. 
He’s grinding into you, deeply, firmly, fully seated inside. You gasp out pitifully, holding onto him with your head ducked down by his neck. He feels so strong and broad and sturdy and firm, his influence forcing you to become breathless while you whine. You’re crying out into his neck, lips parted as he holds onto you, repeatedly bucking up into you, and he fucking loves it. 
Off to the side, you can see the shine of his beskar, sitting in the throne room alongside the two of you. His beskar face shines just barely in the dim light, the outside environment smokey and black from the fight. 
“A part of me,” Din says to you gruffly, eyes trained on where you’re continuing to connect. “Will forever be inside…” He leans in closer to you, turning his head and running the curve of his nose along your cheek. It’s slow, tender, and it washes you in waves of goosebumps. “Do you want that, mesh’la? Be honest with me…” (beautiful)
“Yes,” you squeak out with a nod, leaning back to look at him. At this, he gives you a small yet harsh thrust, grinning as he watches your mouth drop open. 
He chuckles deeply, the sound almost wicked as he continues shoving himself up into you. Din’s thumb then rises, pressing down on your lower lip before dipping it inside your mouth. And happiness blooms inside his chest when your lips close around his thickest digit. 
“I can’t wait.” he sighs lowly with a quick, single shake of his head.
His eyes are trained on you, dark and predatory as he takes you. You were left in your underclothes in the hurries of his passion, stripping you just enough to get inside and uncaring to any other details. And throughout the entire event, his passion doesn’t subside. Both of his feet are planted firmly on the ground, using this as leverage to punch up into you. His arms are wrapped around your back, keeping you in place. And while he holds you, his fingers press into your sides, his love for you and your body uncontrollable in every sense of the word.
Outside, you can hear your Mandalorians fighting, the noise becoming louder as the conflict approaches you. They’re defending your home, the throne, waiting for Din to lead them. But he has to take you, if it’s the last time he ever does, he has to take you. 
The sensations Din delivers through this intimate act are entirely overwhelming; he never ceases to use his size and strength against you. And this unbelievable sense of euphoria now heightens in you, feeling both of his hands fall to your backside. The expanse of his palms, the strength of his digits, they grope you, feeling your plump muscles jiggle while he bounces you on his lap. He’s grunting and puffing out hot breaths and he’s smiling every now and then, his face mostly stern as he focuses on you. His mouth hangs open while he grunts, using every muscle he has to force himself inside. And every time he does, you feel that incredible stretch, feel him hit the deepest and most sensitive parts of you. You want to do more for him, want to move and contribute to this, but you can’t. He doesn’t mind though, he likes it like this. He likes making you cockdumb on his lap. 
“Take me,” he grits out, hammering into you. “Yes…” 
“Din!” you cry out, your eyes pinching shut as you pulse around him. “Din,”
Your king ignores those beautiful cries, his words coming out breathless yet genuine. “You feel so good, so good cyar’ika… letting me fuck you open on my cock, on my throne.” (sweetheart)
“Yes… my king…” your mouth hangs open, your words spoken like a quiet prayer. 
There it is, that word, that glorious title that he’s been blessed with. It always sounded best coming from your lips. 
“Let me see,” comes a sudden grunt, and when you open your eyes, you see his trained on your chest. 
Immediately, you remove your arms from the loop you’d made around his neck, fingers falling to your shirt’s hemline. Working quickly, you remove it, taking off your bralette as well. He smirks at this, a half-grin, an expression that’s smug. He likes that you took it off without him even asking. You know what he wants. You each lean forward, your hands sliding to the back of his head as Din’s lips find your chest. 
“Yes…” your head drops back, hands cradling him while he mouths at your curves, sucking one of your nipples into his hot, wet mouth. 
“I want to taste them,” he mumbles over your breasts, “Wanna be able to taste your tits on my tongue.” 
“Maker, Din… I love when you lick me, baby.” 
“Tell me, ner mesh’la dala…” Din’s voice makes you shiver, feeling the rumble of it over your chest. His stubble scratches you, too, a sensation you’re going to miss while he’s gone. “How does it feel when I sink into you?” (my beautiful girl) 
“Ner cyare,” you breathe out, eyes finding his when he lifts his head. “It feels - it feels so blissful. You make me feel… amazing…” your words come out stuttered and breathy, his pace and stamina unyielding. (my heart)
Din’s lips then find your neck, his facial hair scraping you roughly as his teeth do the same. The hands groping your ass spread your cheeks wide, growling briefly in your ear before slapping his hand down over one of your delicious curves. While mouthing and sucking on your neck, he groans, every sound that comes from his chest fanning out over your skin. 
“Keep moving,” he commands, “Keep fucking yourself onto me.”
“Yes my love,” you grin, eyes remaining closed as you begin to move. “My Mand’alor…” 
“Cyar’ika,” he huffs out passionately, his body shivering when you speak his royal name. “You’re perfect - you’re perfect for me.” (my beloved) 
And then he reaches up, wrapping both of his large hands around your throat. You immediately cling to him, choking out desperate gasps while a heated fire ignites within your soul. 
“Mine,” he declares. “Always mine; a bond to my soul.” 
“Yes,” you nod as best you can in his firm grasp. “Yes Din, my love, my Mand’alor.” 
There it is, there’s that cocky grin again. 
“I love to hear you call me your Mand’alor while I make you whine.” 
And the whines he apparently loves so much now come out when he says those words, your eyes falling shut when you feel his muscles just barely begin to shake. He’s close, you know it. 
“Din,” you then quietly plead, the battle now roaring outside. “I will miss you.” 
Your lover’s hands remove themselves from your throat, rising to hold your face. His expression softens, still passionate but now much kinder than before. 
“I will return to you,” he nods, a genuine promise. “For you.” 
He moans gruffly, eyes pinching shut while his brows furrow before you. His fingers slide back down to dig into the meat of your backside, his hips punching sharply against you. Every time he dives inside is like the first, his length filling your channel fully and then some. You hope to feel him while he’s gone, at least for a few days, that pleasurable ache and burn left behind from his love. 
“Will you keep it?” Din asks you, gritting out the inquiry. “Will you keep me inside?”
“Yes,” you instantly reply, nodding quickly while you look into his eyes. “Always.” 
“I love you,” Din says breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes from you. “You’re meant for me.” 
“I’ve always been meant for you.” leaning forward, you rest your forehead over his, feeling yourself pulse inside. 
Din suddenly grabs one of your hands, quickly guiding it to your core. 
“Cum with me,” he demands roughly. “Cum with me, cyar’ika.” (my beloved)
“Oh,” you moan, fingers beginning to rub slowly. It’s almost too much; with Din, it’s always too much. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Already, you can feel yourself leaking onto him, your release dripping onto his lap as you fall apart in his arms. And Din holds you through it, your climax prompting his own as your walls squeeze tight around him. The groan that exudes from his chest is animalistic, his body pumping wave after wave of adrenaline into him. He feels his release as it finally enters you, the white stream seemingly never-ending. It lasts longer than normal, at least it seems that way; and for both of you, too. Maybe it’s the conflict rising outside that makes your senses more amplified, maybe it’s the fact that he’ll be gone for Maker knows how long. Regardless of your surroundings, it’s him, you know it’s him. You’re completely and entirely consumed by him. 
You’re heaving desperate breaths by the time you come down, both of you holding onto the other like your lives depend on it. You don’t want to think about it, what’s to come soon, too soon. But you can’t help it. 
“I don’t want you to go.” it’s quiet and sad and you know he can’t ignore what he has to do.
“Cyar’ika,” he responds, his voice kind and low. He rubs your back slowly, lovingly, holding you closely. “I have to.” (My beloved)
“I know you do.” 
You married Din before all of this, before he was king. It was quite the change, the environment and responsibilities not exactly easy to get used to. And even though Din didn’t originally want this, he rose to the occasion. His people need him, you both know this. They need him now more than ever. 
After a few more moments of holding your quiet, tender embrace, Din speaks. 
“Come,” he says, hand gently tilting your head up. “Ner riduur. It’s time.” (my wife)
It’s a ceremony, a private one held just by the two of you. Carefully, he removes himself from you, lifting you from his lap. He makes sure your feet settle firmly on the ground, knowing you might be a little wobbly after what he’s done to you. When you’re steady on your feet, you descend the steps to his throne, turning to approach the sacred armor that belongs to Din. He descends behind you, too, walking to stand beside you. 
Before the two of you sits a table, beskar elements laid out alongside two fur coverings. Lastly, decorative jewels sit scattered upon the table, each one for you. The first to begin is your king, reaching out to retrieve one of the fur skins. And then you turn toward each other, him facing you, and you to him. 
“Cyare,” he breathes out, gazing deeply into your eyes as he holds out the fur, an offering. (my beloved)
You smile, stepping closer to him and allowing him this devotional act. A multitude of expressions cross Din’s face, worry and sadness for leaving you, but pride and joy from knowing that you’re his. Carefully, he reaches out, slinging your queenly pelt over both your shoulders. Two thin chains hang over your chest, Din’s bare fingers now moving to connect them so your covering does not fall. 
Din then retrieves your first piece of jewelry, working his way up from your feet. He kneels before you, placing an anklet around either of your feet, the chains made up of beskar that sparkle dazzlingly under any light. He then moves to your thighs, placing thick beskar cuffs around each of them. This signifies your ties to the Way, the warrior society you’ve chosen as your family. Another thin chain, much like those on your ankles, is looped around your hips, and then your waist, Din’s bare fingers brushing lightly over your skin. You take a breath, storing the sensation as a memory to look back on when he is gone. Your fingers are adorned with multiple rings, one with a Mudhorn to signify your tie to Din’s clan, one with a Mythosaur to resemble your devotion and respect for the culture of Mandalore. Bracelets mirroring the chains on your hips, waist, and feet, now loop around your wrists, Din turning your hands over to kiss the tops of both your hands. 
You watch intently as he does this for you, your eyes full of love, adoration, and devotion. He is yours, the one you were always meant to be with, the one who has embraced your soul in every sense of the word. He would go to immeasurable lengths for you, he would fight for you, he would die for you. 
Mirroring the signet on Din’s right pauldron, he clasps a beskar cuff around your right bicep. Along the cuff is your clan’s seal, a Mudhorn. You feel so incredibly proud to wear it. As Din continues to decorate your body, he rises from his feet, eventually standing at his full height once again. Lastly, he reaches for a large necklace laced in black obsidian stones. It hangs around your neck, laying over your chest. And once he clasps it behind your neck, his part of this ceremony is done. 
Din’s warm eyes trail over your body, naked except for the fur covering and sacred jewels he just placed on you. “Mesh’la.” he breathes out, his voice full of wonder. He wants to reach out, wants to touch you and pull you close. But he had his pleasure with you; there’s no time to act on his physical desires during this preparative ritual. (beautiful)
Taking a deep breath, you smile, appearing heavenly before him. “Mand’alor,” you say once again, fully addressing him. 
This begins the true ceremony, your gentle hands now in turn dressing him. Mindfully, you decorate him in each piece of his protective armor, a sign of true respect for your lover and king as you aid him in his preparation for battle. Beginning the same as him, you kneel, reaching for his boots and allowing him to step into them. Each one fits perfectly on his feet, the feet that will carry him into battle as he leads the siege. 
You’ve studied Din’s routine for months, wanting to get this right. After all, it is partially up to you whether or not he gets injured in battle. Part of the meaning behind the ceremony is trust, depending on your significant other to keep you safe. 
Din’s shin and thigh guards are easy, securing over his flight suit with his knee pads shortly thereafter. You make sure to secure them tightly, though with enough room for him to comfortably move. And Din waits while you do it, watching you from above while you work on your knees. The sight makes him want to take you all over again. He needs to come home to you, he will come home to you. 
His codpiece protects his pelvic region, his belt securing it to him whilst also holding a handful of weapons. His cuirass is by far the largest piece of armor, covering both his chest and upper back. When you finally reach this point, you rise to your feet; but your eyes don’t meet his, not yet. Each piece makes him appear bigger, stronger, and you’re honored that he trusts you to handle them with such care. With pride Din watches as you secure his vambraces to his forearms, locking them in place and activating the weapons hidden inside. And then comes his pauldrons, his right adorned with a beskar Mudhorn, his left remaining smooth with a beautiful shine. A sense of honorable fulfillment fills your entire being now that the two of you are dressed this way; your bodies adorned with sacred beskar pieces, each of you wearing your clan’s signet as you stand together. 
Turning, you retrieve the second to last piece of beskar on the table, his helmet. It’s only now that you look up at him, inhaling a small breath. “Din.” you whisper to him, looking into the eyes of the one you love. He looks to you with such adoration and warmth; he knows you will lead his people until he comes back. Slowly, gently, he gives you a single nod, one full of confidence and poise. He’s calm, yet determined; he’s ready. So, you move on, shielding the face of the love of your life. He bows down slightly, allowing you to slide his helmet onto his head. Once on, he rises again, and the sight of him completely dressed makes you shiver. Your lips part in awe; he’s godly like this. 
In your final act, you return to the table, fetching Din’s most powerful weapon. He’s trained months with this piece, he’s bonded with this piece. He deserves this. 
Once again, you kneel, resting completely on your shins. Another deep breath is inhaled. After this, he’s gone, he’ll lead your sacred society to battle. But you can’t think about that, you can’t worry. He will be glorious. 
In an act of loyalty and submissiveness, you lift your hands, offering the Darksaber to Din while tilting your head down. He stands above you, strong and dominant, the pure energy of his presence making you feel safe enough to be small beneath him. He feels satisfied, knowing how true you are to him. And with your last word, you send Din off to battle, placing all of your faith into the hands of the one you love. 
“Mand’alor.” 
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Thank you for reading <3
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If you liked this fic, check out my Blurred Lines Series (;
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soularsss · 1 month
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did so much research i gained a headache
i think it is time to treat myself with some rough concepts for a few of the core characters :D
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(1,2 - Tepla, 3- Jiyo)
these are some rough first designs but i figured i should keep my tumblr loves updated!!
I have been really looking into real life culture/fashion and also trying to do more work on understanding star wars cultures so that my characters and stories feel more rich and lively and whatnot!! Jiyos design in particular i have tried to implement some of that but these are prettt rough designs and i still want to add my own ideas/headcannons to the characters to make my au a little unique!
some tidbits about the characters:
Tepla:
• you can probably tell, she’s a temple gaurd! I haven’t done too much work on her story so far but the general vibe is unrequited love (she’s very strict to the code and pretty oblivious to any sort of emotion)
•she does NOT fit the tendrils in that helmet, it’s open at the back but she sorta ties them in to a braid if ykwim
• very androgynous, she’s like your handsome space knight girlfriend if you catch my drift.. like her gender IS space knight.. i find that very gender
Jiyo
•A pantoran jedi
• their outfits in the show always reminded me of old russian clothing so i’ve been doing a bunch of research on 12th century russian fashion and in general, slavic clothing, but this outfit isn’t completely accurate and i’m kinda just running on vibes (i am so sleep deprived writing this)
• initially i pictured her as a martial artist, with all the jewelry i like to think she jingles and makes pretty sounds when she fights
i haveee one more jedi oc i want to flesh out before jedijune because i am hoping to use them all for the prompts <3
i will make a proper ref sheet for Dala too!
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rekhtaa · 9 months
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Wo sunta to main kehta, Mujhe kuch aur kehna tha,
Wo pal bhar ko jo rukh jaata, Mujhe kuch aur kehna tha
.
Kahan? usne suni meri, suni bhi un-suni kar di,
Usay maloom tha itna, Mujhe kuch aur kehna tha.
.
Ghalat fehmi ne baaton ko barha dala yunhi, warna,
Kaha kuch tha, wo kuch samjha, Mujhe kuch aur kehna tha.
-
Credits : Open
September 21, 2023
Thursday, 11:55 PM
Bengaluru, India
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everydayyoulovemeless · 6 months
Note
If you're comfortable with it, can you please do some romantic hcs for Dr. Dala?
Romantic Dr. Dala HCs
➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » Slightly Unhealthy ➼ Genre » Romantic
First, she'll treat you like a pet within the Think Tank rather than a person, let alone an equal. She shushes you when you're sad and leashes you if you begin to get violent or angry in any capacity. I mean, what if you hurt yourself? You're not as intelligent as she or any of the others are. You need to be watched and taken care of.
She has a habit of putting her monitors way closer than what's considered comfortable. You'll hardly get any personal space being with her.
Dala doesn't sleep, but she loves it when you do. She could spend every night for the rest of eternity listening to the sounds you make when you're fully unconscious.
She has hundreds of recordings of your snores, the sound of your sleep taking, the rhythm of your heartbeat, the echo of your footsteps, and the vibrations of your voice. Anything related to you is stored somewhere within her hard drive.
Assuming that you're living with her in Big MT, you'll be spending a lot of time sitting in a room she designed specifically for you while she observes your response to different stimuli she provides. It wouldn't ever be anything lethal--you're far too perfect for that--it'll just be for... research purposes.
She loves gifting you different bears. Even if you're a full-grown adult, she'll hand you a box of stuffed animals that have been torn apart and sewn back together again. She thinks they're so romantic.
She loves it when you ask her questions or are confused about something because then she can mold your mind however she pleases. A confused lobotomite is an easy-to-control one, and she loves it when she's in control.
She likes to sneak heavy drugs into your food just to see you fumble and trip around her lab. She thinks it's adorable and much prefers it when you rely on her to get around.
Dala only lets you eat if she's the one who feeds you, which shouldn't be a problem since she's always there beside you.
Occasionally, she'll turn the pacification field off and let you hit her. She finds it important to test your strength over the time you've spent with her and the other scientists. However, if you refuse, she'll coo over you and write the behavior down as odd.
She has a strange habit of tying you down as she pokes and prods at your organs and tissues. She revels in any reaction you give her and would keep you fastened to the table forever if you let her.
She secretly still has one or two of your organs in a jar. She doesn't use them in any malicious way, she only keeps them in case you ever decide to leave her. Then she'll have a reason for you to stay.
Dala has a huge fixation on your eyes and will sometimes try to pry them open with tweezers or whatever other item she has with you. If you ever happen to die, the first thing she plans on doing is plucking those pretty eyes straight out of your skull and into a nice jar.
She gets jealous really easily and would make it very clear that she only wants you to talk to her. You don't need the others. They don't love you in the same way she does. This is also not an issue as the others don't want anything to do with you.
She's not what most would expect to receive out of a relationship, but at least it's different? She'll be obsessed over almost everything you do and has no qualms about harming you, but everyone shows their love in different ways, right?
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rjzimmerman · 1 day
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A mare named Wespe is released from a transport box at the Alibi reintroduction centre in the Altyn Dala area of Kazakhstan on June 6, 2024. Václav Šilha / Prague Zoo.
Excerpt from this story from EcoWatch:
The endangered Przewalski’s horse (Equus ferus przewalskii) is the last wild horse species on Earth, meaning a type of wild horse that is not a descendent of domesticated horses. But in the 1960s, this horse became extinct in the wild. Now, through a managed breeding and care program by the Prague Zoo, Przewalski’s horse has been returned to Kazakhstan’s Golden Steppe for the first time in at least two centuries.
In early June 2024, two Czech Army CASA aircrafts carried a total of seven Przewalski’s horses to Golden Steppe, an area of open grasslands. The first aircraft with three horses landed on June 4, according to a press release from the Prague Zoo.
On June 6, the remaining four horses were transferred to the grasslands. But the project did not go as smoothly as hoped, as eight horses in total were originally planned for the trip. But in the first batch of horses, one horse named Pelle kept sitting in his crate, which the zoo noted could be dangerous for him during the long journey. Some technical difficulties also led to delays, but overall, the horses were transported safely, marking a successful project.
“This is an event of historical import: the seven ‘Przewalski’s’ that we transported here by two CASA planes represent the first individuals of this species in central Kazakhstan in hundreds of years,” Bobek said in an update. “With this double transport, we have taken a major step towards returning the last wild horse to another area where it was found in the past. Our goal is to slowly transport at least forty individuals here, so that a viable population can be set up. Hardly anything could be a better demonstration of the purpose of modern zoos than the Return of the Wild Horses.”
The horses will roam in an area spanning 80 hectares and will be closely monitored by researchers, EuroNews reported.
Przewalski’s horses were once abundant across Europe and Asia, but environmental changes and competition with livestock and humans led their habitat to shrink, the Smithsonian’s National Zoo & Conservation Biology Institute reported. Eventually, they became extinct in the wild. But reintroduction projects, like those led by Prague Zoo, have helped return the species to the wild at sites in Kazakhstan, Mongolia and China.
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Note
Hey Emma! In case inspiration strikes
10. “Spread your legs wider.” with Din or Jack 👀
Bee!! I dove straight into this one. I hope you like it. 😘
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18+ ONLY. Unbeta’d, untagged, but smut with explicit consent. 1k
The durasteel walls are slick beneath your palms, cool to the touch and unforgivably smooth as you scrabble for balance. A chuckle distinctly lacking in sympathy crackles through the vocoder behind your ear.
“Told you.”
You huff, unwilling to admit defeat. “I’ve surfed waves bigger than your ship on Spira, Mando, I think I can handle a little turbulence.”
As if the Galaxy itself is determined to prove you wrong, the Crest pitches violently to the left and sends you flying back against the Mandalorian’s chest. You land with a soft oomph against his unyielding bulk and he steadies you with one arm slung low around your hips.
“Udesii. I’ve got you.”
His thumb brushes lazily against your bare hip, suede soft and leaving a trail of warmth shivering in its wake. You relax into his hold instinctively, the now-familiar contrast of cold Beskar and worn leather as comforting as the low rumble of his voice.
“You sure you don’t want to go back to our - back to the bunk?”
“And let you win? Not likely.”
Over the last few weeks, he’s had you everywhere else on his ship. Straddling his lap in the cockpit as you rode him blindfolded. Face-down on the small galley table while he ate you from behind until you dug your nails into its surface and sobbed. Clinging to him in the pitch black ‘fresher, the only time he’d come to you completely bare, and even then only after a hunt went so badly wrong you thought neither of you would make it out alive.
Most often, you’ve fucked in his bunk but between his broad frame and his reluctance to fully shed his armor, it’s a tight fit in more ways than one. He’d sounded intrigued by your proposal of wall sex, and his wry insinuation that you wouldn’t be able to manage to take him standing up only made you more determined.
Besides, you’ve been thinking about it all day.
“Want you like this,” you pout, half teasing, half sultry. You’re not sure which half makes up his mind but with a few muttered words of Mando’a, he guides your hands back to the wall.
“Atin dala. Spread your legs.” Without waiting for you to comply, he knocks your ankle, forcing you to widen your stance, one gloved hand steadying your hip. He moves your body with a practiced ease and despite the joy you take in sparring with him, submitting brings its own delicious thrill.
“Good girl.”
Anticipation sparks hot along your spine and sends a rush of molten heat straight to your core. You move to look over your shoulder but he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Eyes forward, pretty.”
Your toes curl, knowing what's coming next. Sure enough, there’s the telltale hiss and a quiet clink of metal as he sets his helmet down. The lights are fully on and you could easily steal at least a glimpse of his features, to at least catch a fleeting sight of the man you’ve been flying with (not to mention fucking), but despite your curiosity, you refuse to so much as peek.
You know what it’s costing him to open up even this far and besides, you would never break the trust he’s handed you, so you stay still, your eyes fixed on the dull sheen in front of you.
“Jate dala.”
This time his humid breath ghosts past your ear and his words of praise come to you unfiltered. Your breath hitches at the raw sound of his voice, the sweet, deep rumble only you get to hear. The need coiling in your belly hooks you sharp and sudden and you rock back against him in time with your own ragged breathing, unable to stop yourself begging for more.
More movement, more heat. More him.
“Please.”
The desperate plea catches in your throat and he stiffens, then releases you. Doubt sends you reeling, anchorless and exposed. Did you push too far? Let your need for him show too much?
“Mando, I - “
Before your anxious thoughts unspool any further, you’re interrupted by the sound of his gloves slapping against the floor where he’s thrown them aside and then his hands, his large, warm, bare hands are at your waist.
“Din. Ner gai cuyir Din.”
His fingers curl around your sex and when he finds you already dripping for him, he works his cock through your folds, the flushed head pushing past your lips while he grinds the base against your swollen clit. You reach down and grasp him, pumping his stiff length and palming it flush against your heat until you move as one being, slick and gasping.
Just as you’re approaching the blinding edge of your first orgasm, there’s a rough jolt all around you. The Crest lurches violently to one side and even as he curses and braces you both against the wall, the blunt head of his cock slips inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, the sensation somehow too much and not enough all at once.
He holds himself rigid beside you and it’s only the rough edge of his voice that hints at the effort of keeping still.
“You good?”
You nod and manage an only slightly strangled yes. He drops his forehead to the back of your neck while you both adjust to the sudden fullness, the unexpected pressure.
No matter how many times he takes you, your Mandalorian is unfailingly… Gentle is the wrong word. So is respectful, although it hits closer to the mark. Careful comes closest. Like he’s afraid of hurting you. Of scaring you away.
As if he doesn’t realize that his arms are the safest place in the Galaxy and all you want is rest there for as long as he’ll have you.
When you can’t stand it any longer you whine and beg for him to move, to fill you, to fuck himself so deep inside you it feels, just for a moment, like he’ll never leave.
His arm bands around your chest, pulling you flush against him as noses at your cheek, perilously close to letting you catch a glimpse of his face. But you don’t need to see him to know that a smile is pulling at the corners of his mouth as he leans in close and says,
“Spread your legs wider.”
-
Mando’a Translations
Udesii - take it easy
Atin dala - stubborn girl
Jate dala - good girl
Din. Ner gai cuyir Din. - Din. My name is Din.
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are requests still open? can we get some "the helmet stays on" action prettyyyyy pleaaaase? <3
SMUT UNDER THE CUT
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“The helmet stays on.” When Boba Fett has an especially trying day, occasionally he wants to be consensually not-so-nice. Like just full DOM DAIMYO.
He grabs you from the shadows - an echo of his former life as a ruthless bounty hunter - and pins you against the stone wall of a secluded hallway in the palace.
His hands are large enough that he can easily hold your wrists in one, leaving the other free to explore.
You’re not wet yet, but he still pushes two meaty fingers inside of you. He wants to hear you gasp and whine. He kicks your legs apart with his knee and pushes deeper into you.
He growls low in Mando’a and you only catch a few words, but you get the gist. You have, apparently, been a very bad girl for teasing him all day and now it’s time for you to be punished.
He pulls you into the kitchen and bends you over the large butcher block table. You hear him unbuckle his pants with one hand. The other still has your wrists captured and held tightly behind your back.
First, he slaps your bare ass hard. Three good hard slaps with his open palm. The sting is delicious. He punctuates each slap with a phrase in Mando’a that you think means “bad girl” or “naughty girl” - your grasp of the language is limited.
He’s rock hard, you can feel his cock pressing against you as he leans on her you to fist your hair and press your face into the table. He teases you with the head, making sure that you’re dripping for him.
When he finally pushes into you, you moan loudly and he puts of gloved hand over your mouth. “Palms on the table,” he growls in your ear.
He thrusts fast and hard. You squeal and buck, and he tightens his grip over your mouth. You feel his cool armor on your back.
He kneads your breasts with his free hand. “Ner dala,” he hisses in your ear.
You come hard and he keeps your cries stifled. Tears well in your eyes and your knees buckle. He pounds into you even harder, chasing his own pleasure. He swears in Mando’a as he comes inside you.
Afterwards, he’s incredibly gentle. He turns your around and sits you on the table, petting your hair and finally removing his helmet so he can kiss the salty tears off of your face.
He drapes your arms over his shoulders and wraps your legs around his waist so he can lift you up and take you up the stairs.
For the remainder of the evening, he will dote on you - nuzzling your neck, holding you, whispering praise into your hair.
You know who I feel bad for? The people on my tag list who are going to read this at work and be COMPLETELY INCONSOLABLE.
@daimyosprincess
@acatalystrising
@ladytano420
@dukeoftheblackstar
@baufraus
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kazumiku · 3 months
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Sides of a coin
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13 Hangout
→ 12 Cookies, m.list, 14 Plan
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(823 words) Written part below ⇂
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Okay, so maybe skipping class wasn’t the smartest solution from the bunch. But it’s not like you’re good with immediate confrontation either. How could you meet the man after that incident? As silly as it is, it shook something in you and prodded at uncharted territory you swore you’d never pursue. 
Thinking had got cut short when someone knocked at your door, and you lazily stand to open it. 
“Tinamad nakong maglakad,” Scaramouche stepped in without a care, tossing his shoes elsewhere as he went straight to plop on your couch.  
“Putangina, may tsinelas dito! Suotin mo, tanga,” tossing it towards his feet, he whines before begrudgingly putting it on.  
“You order me around like a mother.” 
“Pakyu ka rin.” 
Kaveh arrived a few minutes after, with a tired Xiao getting dragged along while grasping on a bag of snacks for dear life. It was endearing, even if the teal boy didn’t want to be there so early since he wasn’t supposed to be out till the afternoon for his own classes. The botanist was the last to make himself at home with practiced ease, bringing over a small potted plant as a gift, as always. 
It wasn’t common for any you to not attend university, so your friends had made a rule about hanging out if any of you decided to do so—everyone drops whatever they’re doing for it, important or not. ‘To make up for lost times’ is the reasoning for the pact to have been made, even though the five of you were practically glued to the hip, so it's rather an excuse to hang out. But it works either way.  
“Nagugutom na’ko,” Tighnari complains as he sat on the floor of your living room next to Kaveh after placing the plant on your coffee table. “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Ano dala mo, Xiao?” 
“... Chips,” Xiao sighs, placing the bag full of snacks on the table, next to the plant. “Si Kaveh kasi, he was rushing me. I just tossed in whatever edible thing I could find in my pantry.” 
The offended expression that dawned on the blond’s face was priceless, it made everyone crack into laughter, subtle or not. And Scaramouche was certainly not. He was wheezing like a hyena. 
“Tinatawanan mo dyan, Kuni,” Kaveh hissed, offering the ravenette the middle finger, which was gladly reciprocated. 
“Wala. Ayoko sa bading.” 
That made you roll your eyes in clear amusement, more than entertained to watch Kaveh and Scaramouche bicker. But what’s more entertaining if not joining in? “Sabi sa bading rin.” 
“Di ako bading!” denied Scaramouche, which got him doubtful looks from everyone in the room. 
“Kagabi you were calling me, crying that you miss your boyfriend kasi nag ‘break’ na naman kayo,” Xiao speaks up, exposing Scaramouche without a care, earning him a harmless glare. 
Tighnari chuckles and decides to pipe in, much to the ravenette’s dismay, “Didn’t you ask me what flower language is and which flowers you can use in a bouquet to apologize to him? Simp much.” 
“Oh, so this is a personal attack now? Fuck all of you.” 
Your day would feel this fulfilled if it weren’t for your friends, even if it’s still morning, then it’s a morning well-spent. You almost had forgotten about the incident with Heizou, though that is a worry you’ll spend time wasting on later—bros before hoes, they say! Not that Heizou is your hoe... at least you think he isn’t. 
── ⋆⋅⑅⋅⋆ ── 
“Tas sinusungitan pa’ko ni Hayi kasi gusto pa niya umiyak ako! Anong kink ba yan ante, ganda ko raw umiyak ih,” Kaveh was ranting his ass off once your group changed places, happily chatting within the comfort of your room as he tossed and turned on the bed. 
“What are you, a worm? Stay still,” Xiao groans, having been hit on the shoulder by the blond for the nth time by now. “Kati kati amputa. Dun ka nga kay Nari, inaabuso mo na ako.” 
Tighnari raised his hands in the air, shaking his head profusely as he sat on the opposite edge of your bed with a stack of notebooks beside him, a textbook open in front of his crossed legs and a pen in hand. “Wag, masira ung pagnonotes ko, gago.” 
You and Scaramouche were snickering in the sidelines, cuddling like children while a horror movie goes on in the screen of your laptop. The sound was horrifyingly gruesome Tighnari had to put on earmuffs while studying, while Xiao couldn’t hear shit when Kaveh was practically yapping right beside his ear like a mosquito. 
Moments like these you couldn’t help but cherish, even though each one of you were doing something different, basking within each other’s presence is more than enough. In the end, the others joined with watching the movie in a group huddle, with occasional shrieks from either Kaveh or Scaramouche, which were scarier than the graphic movie scenes. 
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taglist; @skaramush, @trashhighwaybird, @b9by
a.notes; the friend groups r actually made by random, just whoever entered my mind first, so now i kinda wanna play out their dynamic and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out
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kurlyfrasier · 2 years
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10) Beskar Kisses & Home (final)
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Synopsis: You, Din, and Grogu land on Mandalore and you receive your gift.
To read from the beginning, or start something else entirely, click here.
A/N: Well, this ended better than I expected, not gonna lie.  Warnings: ...angst? fluff. no use of y/n, if you like that. Reader is nervous. DIn gives a gift  Inaccurate Mandalorian/Star Wars lore, and possible misuse of Mando’a. ENJOY! Disclaimer: I do not own Mandalorian/Star Wars anything. Word Count: 1731 Mando’a:
- Ibac’ner dala (EE-bahk-NAIR DAH-lah): That’s my girl (dala lit. woman)
- Su cuy’gar (Soo COO-ee-gar): Hello (lit. You’re alive)
Mando’a words and pronunciation found here.
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(gif = mood)
The rest of the ride to Mandalore was mostly spent in contemplative silence. Even Grogu seemed to sense your racing thoughts.
Din basically said he can’t live without you. Did that mean he cared for you though? He loved you? You weren’t sure and the thought saddened you. Especially since you had grown to care for him in a more than…platonic way. He showed affection through the keldabe kisses - you smiled at the thought - but you still weren’t sure if they were equal to actual kisses, or more like hugging a good friend.
The urge to pull your hair out was overwhelming.
“Mand’alor,” you suddenly heard through the comms, jolting you from your reverie. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” Din said. “Good to be back.”
“So is it true?” A different voice crackled through. A quiet ‘shut up’ and thud following directly after.
Din sighed and you wondered if he knew what was to come next.
“Is what true,” he asked, sounding reluctant.
“Is Mand’alor’Kar’ta with you?” The voice became higher-pitched in excitement throughout the conversation.
That was you.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said before you could think too hard about it, shutting off the comms, stopping more queries from coming through.
Din easily maneuvered the ship into Mandalore’s port. You stood rigid by his now fully armored side as the ramp opened, Grogu excitedly babbling in the crook of his arm while a cold sweat dripped down your back. Blowing out a breath, you relaxed, noticing the only people in the port were mechanics working on ships. Nobody was headed your way to check their Mand’alor’s ship, which you thought a bit odd, but quietly thanked the Maker for it. The longer you weren’t the center of attention, the better.
Outside the port was a different story. The market, like most well-populated cities, was packed shoulder to shoulder. Normally the hustle and bustle of a large crowd didn’t bother you, but these people were all trained from a young age to be the best fighters in the galaxies; covered in armor and packed with their weapons of choice. Flashes of uncovered heads scattered throughout the space surprised you only a little, having met Bo-Katan and her crew. 
Your arm instinctively moved to grab onto Din’s cape, but you stopped yourself, bringing it back to your side, fist clenched. You would not show fear. Not in front of these warrior people. You would make DIn proud.
With a confidence you didn’t know you had, you stepped forward, standing directly next to Din, head held high, shoulders back, spine straight. 
“Ibac’ner dala,” he said, staring down at you, a smile in his voice and moved forward. Grogu giggled. You followed his lead, staying close to his side, pride blooming in your chest. You may not have known what he said, but you knew it was praise.
The first shout to their Mand’alor had every Mandalorian facing your way, whispers of the word kar’ta spread like fire as they made a path seemingly all the way to the castle, watching as you walked by. For once, you were thankful you couldn’t see the eyes behind the visors.
“Mand’alor,” a gold-armored woman with a short, furred cape resting on her shoulders nodded to Din before doing the same in your direction. “Kar’ta,” she turned before you or Din could respond and led you both into the castle.
A double door opened into an empty, spacious room with paintings of mythosaur skulls all around. Drapes of the current Mand’alor’s mudhorn signet lined each wall that led to a large, decorated chair at the other end. You correctly assumed this to be the throne room. 
WIth weak legs and shaky hands, you continued your way down the room, following DIn’s lead until the woman you followed stopped in front of the throne and spun around.
“Su cuy’gar,” she stated, clasping Din’s arm. “You were missed, Mand’alor,” she turned her visor toward you. “I’ll be back with your gift, Kar’ta.” Her steps echoed back down the hall.
“She is my tribe’s Alor. The armorer,” Din explained, looking stiffer than usual and unwilling to meet your gaze.
“She seems,” you trailed off, head tilting to the side in contemplation, a small smile playing at your lips. “Strict.”
A short bark of laughter escaped through his modulator. “You could say that.”
You hummed, nodding as your gaze roamed the room, landing back on the large chair. “You don’t wanna sit on your throne,” you teased.
He shook his head, setting Grogu down, who had been strangely quiet up to that point, fussing to be let down. He immediately ran to the chair and hopped on it with an ease that had your eyes popping wide, still unused to him openly using the Force around you.
The throne room doors opened, catching your attention as two Mandalorians walked in. One carrying several pieces of armor, the other carrying a mannikin. The mannikin was set down and dressed with the armor held by the other with a gentleness unnecessary for the beskar. Once done, they stood on each side of the unclaimed armor in silence, hands behind their backs. Din nodded and they left the room.
You barely glanced at the armor, bouncing on your toes and waited with bated breath for someone else to enter the room, thinking this armor was for a young Mandalorian receiving the beskar after passing their Resol’nare. A test to prove they were worthy to be Mandalorian. Your heart raced, excited to be part of this possible tradition with their Mand’alor.
When none came, you gave Din a quizzical look, brows scrunched together in confusion.
“It’s for you,” he said, clearing his throat. “If you want it.”
“This,” you pointed at the beautifully made beskar, dumbfounded. “Is for me?” You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, taking a tentative step toward the mannikin, really looking at the armor this time.
It was unpainted, like Din’s, except for the blood red surrounding the visor, creating what looked to be a sharply pointed heart if you looked hard enough. Your gaze lowered to the pauldrons that held a long, velvety cape of the same color, a mudhorn signet on the same side as Din’s, but this one was half surrounded by a streak of that same red, creating a half-heart from the tip of the horn. You lifted a still shaking hand to trace over the signet, awed by such a gift.
There was no way you could accept-
“It’s one hundred percent beskar, like mine,” his voice came out clear, causing you to face him, eyes proving he had taken his helmet off. In one determined stride, he placed himself in front of you, grasping your upper arm with one hand, the other on your cheek, thumb catching a tear you didn’t know had fallen.
“Din-”
“Say you’ll accept,” he said, eyes pleading.
“But I’m not-”
“You are Mand’alor’Kar’ta,” he audibly swallowed, grip tightening on your arm. “Ner Kar’ta.”
“I don’t-” you shook your head, trying to find the words, mouth dry. “I don’t understand. I’m just your cook- your babysitter-”
“No,” he pulled you closer. “You are my reason for living-”
“Because I brought your heartbeat back, I kno-”
“No,” he growled. “Because I would rather die than live without you.”
You stared up at him, stunned, mouth gaping.
“Do you understand,” he demanded, sounding more like a king than you had ever heard from him before. 
“But why the armor,” you whispered out, eyes unwilling to meet his penetrating gaze, afraid this was all a dream.
“My people want to keep you safe. Nothing is safer than beskar.”
“But I’m not one of them-” an arm pointed toward the door, sharp and to the point. “Not a warrior- not worthy-”
“You are worthy,” both hands now firmly cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him. “You are the first Kar’ta in centuries. You are a sacred myth brought to life, Mesh’la,” he chuckled darkly. “Your life is more precious than my own in their eyes,” he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, swallowing, eyes of steel never leaving your own. “In my eyes.”
Your heart soared, hands moving to hold his arms, steadying yourself, the chill of beskar vambraces proving this was real.
“Even if you decide not to stay-”
“I’ll stay-”
“I want you to have the armor,” DIn continued as though you hadn’t said a word. “Mandalorians will likely follow you to keep you safe,” your eyes widened at that. “With or without my consent,” he smiled, gentle and kind. 
“O-okay-”
“If-” he breathed in deep, chest brushing against yours, head falling onto your own, eyes turning from stubborn determination to nervous fear. “If you decide to accept the armor and stay, I hope you will be with me, officially become part of my clan, and lead with me.”
“But I’m not a lea-”
“You can do anything you set your mind to, Ner Kar’ta. I’ve seen it,” he said, voice filled with conviction, gaze filled with pride. “You walked off my ship and through the market like a born queen in front of hundreds of Mandalorians. Most people would wet themselves just at the thought. But not you, my brave, beautiful Heart. No. You stood tall and proud as you faced the most feared warriors in the galaxies.”
Your eyes closed, breath shuddering, heart pounding loud in your ears. You squeezed his arms, finding him- this- to be real once again and nodded your head best you could against his. “Okay,” you breathed out.
“Okay?” His voice was rough, your eyes flying open when you felt his head move away from yours. You shivered when the hands that cupped your face moved to lightly grip your upper arms.
“Yes,” you said, voice loud and clear. 
“Yes,” he said, voice filled with hope.
“Yes,” an uncontrollable smile burst across your face. “I accept your gift, I accept you, my warrior king- my heart.”
“Yes,” he repeated back to you, sounding breathless, smiling brighter and bigger than the twin suns of Tatooine. Steadily, he leaned forward, eyes glistening, watching your every move until lips caressed against your own; soft until a hand grasped the back of your neck, the other wrapping low around your waist, pulling you ever closer, smashing you against every crevice of armor and skin, igniting your soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mando’a:
- Ibac’ner dala (EE-bahk-NAIR DAH-lah): That’s my girl (dala lit. woman)
- Su cuy’gar (Soo COO-ee-gar): Hello (lit. You’re alive)
Mando’a words and pronunciation found here.
THANKS FOR READING!
A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and liking and commenting and reblogging! This was only supposed to be a few one-shots of cute little things that happen between Mando and Reader, but became so much more than expected all thanks to you guys! I may write a few things related to this series in DIn’s POV, but don’t get your hopes up, people lol The idea is floating in my head with no idea of where it’s going at the moment, so if it does happen, it could be a while. Thank you again for all the love and appreciation, each and every like, comment, and reblog made my heart soar! (:
TAGLIST:  @againstacecilia​ @djarinslove​ @bxmxtx​ @takeyour-pants-off​
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thedalatribune · 7 months
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© Paolo Dala
[L] Adam Barnett Newman (1951-1952) The National Art Center (Minato City, Tokyo, Japan)
[M] Untitled Mark Rothko (1969) The National Art Center (Minato City, Tokyo, Japan)
[R] Light Red over Black Mark Rothko (1957) The National Art Center (Minato City, Tokyo, Japan)
Paintings That Spoke Of The "Tragedy Of Being Human"
The most unexpectedly uplifting and consoling artist of the 20th century was the abstract painter Mark Rothko, the high priest of grief and loss... Appalled by the sentimentality around him, he learnt to make art that was insular, unrelenting, somber and oriented towards pain. Rothko's favorite colors were burnt burgundy, dark gray, pitch black, and blood red, occasionally alleviated by a sliver of yellow...
In 1958, Rothko was offered a large sum to put some murals for a soon to be opened opulent New York Restaurant, the Four Seasons on Park Avenue. It was, as he put it,
"a place where the richest bastards of New York will come to feed and show off".
His [Rothko's] intentions for them soon became clear:
"I hope to ruin the appetite of every son of a bitch who ever eats in that room."
And to that end, Rothko set to work on some large black and maroon color fields expressing a mood of terror and archaic anguish.
However, shortly before the paintings were due to go on display, Rothko had a change of mind [He cancelled the exhibition.], called up his patrons, explained his feelings, and sent back the money. He then gave his paintings to London's Tate Gallery where they were hung in a quiet, airy, contemplative, religious-seeming space, that enclosed the viewer in an atmosphere of meditative mortification. The paintings remain ideal companions for visitors who drift into the gallery at their wit's end, who might be working through the loss of a partner or the ruin of their career - and who need more than anything else to know that they are not alone.
The School of Life ART/ARCHITECTURE - Mark Rothko
Fortunately, some of the collections from the Tate was in Tokyo when I was in Japan and I was finally able to see a couple of paintings by the legendary Mark Rothko. It was a surreal experience. I felt something that couldn't really explain while I was standing in front of a Rothko Painting.
[Sorry for the blurry photo. A museum security personnel came to and asked me to put my phone away while I was taking this photo. Apparently, you can take photos of other artwork, like the artworks of Claude Monet, but you can't take a photo of Mark Rothko's paintings.]
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saltygilmores · 1 year
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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 13 ("A Tisket A Tasket") Part 4 of ????
You can find all previous commentary including for this episode in my Pinned Post. When we last left off, Jess had just uttered four of the most iconic words in Gilmore Girls history: "Dean is an idiot." So true Besty. So true. 90% of this post will be me screaming into the void about how horrible Dean and Lorelai are, they honestly just ruin everything. Jackson: I think we should get married. Soon. Sookie, stammering: But, uhhhh, ummm... are you pregnant? I chuckled. Sookie says yes to the sudden quasi-proposal and all I can think is well, that was certainly much nicer than all the times Christopher and Max tried proposing to Lorelai to end an argument or get into her pants. Lorelai: Your burgers taste better outside. Luke (clearly so in love with her that he would literally do this) Well next time there's a leak in the roof of the diner I'll just tear the thing off for you. I smiled.
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Absolutely an iconic line, and as a fellow Stubborn Person I salute you, Lorelai.
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Oh this oughta be juicy. Lorelai's inner monologue: Don't say Dean Forrester, don't say Dean Forrester...
Lorelai says that last year she tried using the Line Taylor Doose's Pockets Auction to snag a teenage boy to unclog her rain gutters, but when Rory offers up Jess to do the same thing for her later (I think in two more episodes, KILL ME NOW 😞) and end her dilemma, Lorelai needs convincing from Rory that Jess was worthy enough to slop the muck out of her gutters. I NEVER FORGET, LORELAI GILMORE. NEVER NEVER. Lorelai: "It's a nice concept. Having someone you love or have some crazy crush on bid on your basket and share a romantic lunch. “ Luke: (clearly so fucking in love with her there is an ache in his heart that keeps him awake at night like a ticking clock): "Well, I'm sure one day you'll manage to find the right guy and drag him out to this thing and make him buy your stupid basket and then you'll be sitting out here with him."
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Yeah. I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD!!!!!!!
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YOU ARE THE SOLE REASON WHY I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO FULLY ENJOY THIS SHOW. Once again, The DALA (Dean and Lorelai Affair) throws a cold bucket of water on a tender scene and viciously murders my Warm and Fuzzies. Dean is an insecure little pissbaby and his attempts to manipulate and emotionally abuse Rory into declining the picnic with Jess didn't give him his desired outcome, so instead he COMPLAINS TO LORELAI. WHO DOES THIS? WHO I ASK YOU? WHO VOLUNTARILY TRIES TO GET THEIR GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER TO MEDDLE IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP? ON PURPOSE? WELL WHEN YOU'RE IN THE FUCKING DALA I GUESS IT MAKES SENSE HUH.
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Lorelai Looking at Dean: 🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Listen, I had yet another long-ass rant about how Lorelai lacks any sense of awareness and does backflips over these glaring red flags that Dean serves to her on a silver platter, day after day, month after month, year after year. I lost it when I accidentally shut off my laptop. But it’s no big loss, we’ve been here before and we will be here again…I am so tired. Dean rudely interrupts Lorelai to which she demurrs and submits to his Man Authority by doing something she does for no other man: instantly shutting up. Lorelai if Jess rudely interrupts her:
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Excuse me? What a weird thing to say about a child you barely know. ARGGHH! The more I watch this show the more I'm willing to die on the hill that Lorelai, not Rory, is the "bad" main character that should be broadly disliked and villainized (or at least split the fandom) and I really have to apologize to Rory for how I used to speak about her before I opened my eyes. I have seen the darkness. Now, if you want to understand Dean Language, you have to learn how to speak in vague generalties about people with absolutely no evidence to back it up. Let's begin:
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Time to play my favorite game, ripping Deano's logic to shreds:
We're on season 2, episode 13. Dean and Jess have only met a few times. Jess has been mostly a background character from episodes 6-12. Their interactions have included the time they were first introduced (Jess did nothing wrong), the Bracebridge Dinner (Jess was on his best behavior at the dinner) and today, when Jess asked Dean for some glue and Dean was jealous of how witty and intelligent and sharp Jess is, and for that Dean said he should lose the right to breathe. Alright, maybe you can count that time they scrapped in the yard at school before the BBD, but I digresss. I am Jess Mariano's defense attorney and I am also the judge and jury and your case has no legs and I'm ejecting you from my coutrtoom. I find the defendant Jess Mariano not guilty and also that Dean Forrester is a putz. Dismissed.
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Why does it matter to you if he gets in fights at school and doesn't show up. Did Lorelai and Dean run out of sex games to play so they're roleplaying Jess Mariano's Therapist and Guidance Counselor today? Why does this Little Guy live in their heads rent free?
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I’m sorry, what is he supposed to do, sequester in his castle like the Beast in Beauty and the Beast, never allowed to interact with the public or else they'll come after him with pitchforks? is that the goal? (I think it is tbh)
How does he stop being "around"? He has more ties to this town than you do, Also A Boy Who Recently Moved Here From Another State.
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YA THINK?!
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He just what?
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She's even nice to your stupid worthless ass and you still treat her like garbage. I don't get his point. She's only being nice to Jess because she's nice to everyone? It's better than her being nice to you because she's terrified of you.
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I’M
SORRY
BUT
WHERE DO YOU GET THE FUCKING AUDACITY
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Okay Miss Cleo, you can go do me a big favor and drown. Lorelai lowers her voice to her soft and gentle Talking to Dean Voice.
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I just want to remind everyone once more that this conversation is occuring between a teenage boy and his girlfriend's mother.
Maybe he needs like, a gay best friend to dish to or something. Or therapy. Because this is not normal.
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"Get you what you want"=my daughter. This is the unholy alliance I mentioned in the previous post. It feels like they're teaming up with each other to defeat Jess or something. It's weird as hell and gives me the creeps. I'm tired, still 14 minutes left in the episode, will continue with part 5 somewhere down the line when I feel like it.
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editorandchief · 2 years
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Hell Hath No Fury | Eddie Munson
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Summary: Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist
Warning: Threatening, Reader is fucking crazy/kind of a bitch.
Requested: Nah
Taglist 🏷: @ken-dala
She was just sitting there staring at the blonde, watching her smile and talk with her friends while her boyfriend had his arm draped around her shoulder immersed in a separate conversation.
"Chrissy." She called out drawing the girls attention. "What kind of drugs are you on?" She asked so casually you might think she was talking about he weather. 
Conversation at the table halted as everyone turned their eyes to focus on the two girls.
The answer however didn't come from Chrissy but from Jason Carver as he glared in her directions. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked angry at the accusation thrown at his girlfriend. "Chrissy isn't on drugs."
"No?" She asked a faux looks of innocence. "I was just wondering because I saw her getting out of Eddie Munson's van yesterday at lunch time when I went to grab my chemistry book." She revealed. 
you could feel the tension growing with her every word thought that didn't stop her at all. 
"And Everyone knows that Munson sells drugs and besides that I could imagine what Chrissy would be doing with him, in his van, all lunch period." She finished knowing that she had just trapped her fellow cheerleader between a rock and a hard place, Chrissy could either admit to doing drugs or admit to cheating in her loving boyfriend with the town 'freak' and doing either would result in her life falling apart. 
"Chris...?" Jason questioned his her, like everyone else waiting for an answer.  "Is that where you were yesterday?" He asked.
Chrissy just opened and closed her mouth looking from face to face in an attempt to come up with some sort of explanation for her actions. 
"It's not what you think," Was the first thing to escape her lips, though even she had to admit it was the most guilty sentence anyone could say in this situation. 
"I can't believe this." Jason says before standing up and storming out of the cafeteria as the bell rings followed by the remainder of the table minus Chrissy. 
***
Though she was focused on the mirror that hung in her locker door she didn't miss the long haired figure coming up quickly behind her as she applied some chap stick. 
"What the hell is your problem?" Eddie asked stopping next to her as she kept her eyes on her reflection. 
Letting out a small sigh she closed her locker before turning to face the boy. "Yes Eddie, I'm fine how are you." She answered with a small smile. 
"Chrissy told me what you did." He stated. "You may have her and everyone else convinced it was an 'innocent mistake' but I know why you did it." 
"She ran crying to you?" She asked with a tilt of her head. "I guess she didn't learn her lesson." She scoffed. 
"And what lesson is that exactly?" Eddie asked narrowing his eyes.
"That I don't share." She answered. "A lesson I didn't think I would have to teach to you much less Chrissy." 
"There is nothing going on between me and Chrissy." Eddie states. "I was just selling her some stuff." 
"Oh yeah, so you're telling me that Chrissy Cunningham does drugs and you needed all lunch period to sell them to her in your van instead of the usual spot and there is nothing else going on between you two, but she went crying to you immediately after being outed which cause you to come here and plead her case." She replied sarcastically. "Wow you are one considerate drug dealer. Do your treat all your customers like that?"
"I know your upset, but I could have explained all of this is you had just asked me." Eddie says. "Don't you think you took it a bit too far." 
"Too far? How about an anonymous letter to Ms. Cunningham from a concerned friend about my worries on Chrissy's drug addiction? You think she's stressed now imagine what rehab will do to her nerves, or would that be going too far?" She asked staring straight into his eyes. "You should know me better Eddie, no matter how far things go I am always willing to take it farther." 
Sending him one final smirk she turns of her heals and began walking away before Eddie's voice stopped her in her tracks. 
"So what you're jealous? If you can't have me no one can?" He asked loudly. In an instant she knew what she was trying to do and reacted instantly slapping on the innocent face she wore so well before turning around and looking at him in confusion on hurt. 
"I know I shouldn't have asked that question, but I was just worried about my friend." You begin. "And I know you must really want to protect Chrissy but does that mean you have to spread rumors about me? I mean no offence but what would a girl like me be doing dating a guy like you?...well guess Chrissy would know to the answer to that." She shrugged.
"I guess it was true then," A voice comes from the small crowd Eddie had gathered. "Why else would you try to slander she unless you were trying to cover for you and Chrissy." 
"Wow Munson your not just a freak, your a piece of shit." 
"She's always so nice to everyone." 
***
She sat on her bed that night thinking about what she was going to wear to school the next day when the knock came from the window, glancing over she spots the familiar face of Eddie Munson crouched in her roof looking through the glass.  
Opening the window she took a step back allowing the Hell Fire member to enter the room as she crossed her arms. "Have you come to tell how much of a terrible person I am again?" She asked as he stood straight. 
"No," Eddie sighed. "I came to apologize actually. Look Chrissy and I knew each other when we were kids, when she came to me to buy she seemed nervous and I felt like I should try and make her more comfortable so we met at the van instead of the wood and the reason it took so long is because she was so nervous she couldn't even tell me what she wanted to buy yet alone how much. I was just helping her out for old time sake." He explained. 
"That's between the two of you, why should I care?" She asked rolling her eyes before turning her back on him. "You can leave now."
Eddie walked up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist. "I also said I came to apologize," He said laying a kiss on her cheek. "I shouldn't have said what I did in the hall, I guess I always knew you were a bit crazy but I had no idea you were this crazy about me." Eddie said with a chuckle nuzzling into her neck to place another kiss. 
"Ha ha," She Laughed sarcastically, turning around in his arms to place hers over his shoulders. "You mean it?"
"I mean it." He confirmed placing a kiss on her neck and her cheek, and her nose until she finally cracked a smile. "And I'm so so sorry." He apologized once again backing her up towards her back before they fall down into it.
"Well.....I guess I'm sorry too." She apologized half heartedly. "And I can make things right for Chrissy and Jason." 
"That would be nice of you." 
"I know."
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chereserene · 9 months
Text
Random Thoughts
re: long post ahead don't read i just wanna vent out how my I am emotionally.
May comfort food ako palagi after a long tiring day. May bilihan kasi ng siomai, toge at gulaman malapit sa school. Every other day nabili ako kapag kailangan ko bawasan yung mga iniisip ko or di kaya magself reflect habang naglalakad pauwi kasi walking distance lang naman yung school. Masarap kasi yung toge ni nanay to the point na minsan kahit wala ng suka and 5 pesos lang siya worth the price para sa isang katulad ko na mastress at malulungkot na naman paguwi. This past months I barely eat with them (family). Tho, weekends na lang kami halos nagkakaabutan at nagkakausap ni Mama.
Hindi ko alam umiiwas talaga ako sumabay ng kain (sa ibang fam relatives). I already said na andito sila sa, bahay months na and I really don't know why stress ako just by being around them. Hindi ko mahanap yung comfortability sa home. And it makes me so fucking tired.
At the same time, umuwi na yung kapatid ko. But i feel that we're distant. Feel ko hindi ko nagampananan yung responsibility ko as her ate nung wala siya. Because she told me na gusto niya raw kausap nung time na nasa barko siya and she needs comfort to the point na alam ko hindi ko nabigay at that specific moment na kailangan niya. At the same time, naiinis ako kasi masyado siyang mabait just like mom and she already had the capacity to decide on her own na and for me feel niya malaki na siya.
I also get jealous how my mom treated her than she treats me. Pakiramdam ko mom is being unfair on some days. And for me, she sees me as someone she can lean on and hindi isang anak that I also need to be taken care off like a small child hahaha. Ang hirap rin maging first born child na walang nagchicheck sayo if okay ka pa ba at certain point kasi they saw you as a responsible child and bigger one. It makes me sad knowing na emotionally nahihirapan ako and ako pa palaging nagsasabi na I'm open to talk about this feelings pero ako palagi yung nagtatago sa kung anong nararamdaman ako. It keeps heavy and heavier as the days goes by kasi pakiramdam ko I'm not doing my part as an ate and bilang anak.
Then, I realized damn I really don't know paano nangyari na I spend most of my time being distant with those ppl around me kasi sobrang nadidrain talaga ako every time na kakausapin ako for their personal reasons. Madalas hindi ako nagrereply and tangina hindi ko alam kung bakit, maybe I always got too emotional to the point na papasok yun sa akin hanggang magkaroon ng effect that ill be emotionally and mentally drained.
Kasi tangina even sa school, if may mga students ako na pinapatawag sa guidance office to talk about their certain behaviors, ayun hanggang paguwi naalala ko pa rin sila at yung kwento ng buhay nila na maski ako iiyak na ata kapag pinapakinggan ko.
Also, hindi ko rin alam paano ako dumating sa point na bigla akong nagtransition into someone na nagiging independent, matipid and learning things to do in an easy way. Nawalan ako ng pake sa nararamdaman ng ibang tao if hindi sila beneficial for me.
Kapag ramdam ko na this person is taking advantage of me. I also do the same with them. Kapag pakiramdam ko na low energy yung binibigay sa akin and im giving what I have to this person. Bigla akong nawawalan ng gana makipagusap and i don't find the person beneficial for my growth, nawawalan na ako ng gana in all aspect (the same as my relatives na wala ng magandang sinabi kundi i doubt yung kakayanan mo).
Like tangina, hindi ko alam why. Maybe I got used for being such a giver at dalang dala na ako na kapag may nagtitake advantage of my kindness, what I give and etc.
Nagbago siguro ako when me and him parted ways. Baka nagself reflect lang ako na I was left behind for a reason na ang bilis mangyari and di ko alam na totoo na pala yung nasa isip ko na iiwanan rin ako pero still i tried falling in love.
Kaya siguro iwas na rin ako na makipagusap kasi I'm afraid na baka maiwan ako for certain reasons na ill blame myself na may kulang sa akin or mali sa akin kaya ako iniiwan.
Don't get me wrong, if you think that I'm taking advantage of you, I know we both are.
Hahah ang daming thoughts na kailangan ko pagsamahin para gumaan yung feeling kapag naisusulat mo. It bothers me this past weeks and months.
Sana maging okay na. Sana gumaan na rin yung feeling and ill get back to my usual self. I really wanna spend time talking with mom and sabay kaming kakain lahat (mom and sisters) and talk about how our day was lalo na sa school and work. I wanna vent out and explain my side why I came to this point.
Saan nga ba tayo uuwi kapag nahihirapan na tayo?.
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