#like why do they believe in the creed?

[yamineftis]

One thing that is really breaking my heart in this season is how stupid and incompetent they’ve made all the mandalorians, like, are we supposed to root for these guys? Who live in Jurassic Park and claim their children are the most important thing to them, but just stay put and watch them get snatched by giant birds instead of idk, trying to hunt them? Couldn’t they like, have asked Din when he returned the first time this season to help them track the birds with his ship cuz apparently they took the space bus to this planet?

Couldn’t they like, be portrayed as the most fearsome warriors in the galaxy who are in the verge of extinction cuz they’re so dangerous the empire/renmants sends hoards of soldiers to kill them whenever they learn of a new covert? How did these fumbling fools manage to survive this long? lmao why

[apenitentialprayer]

why do anglicans still exist like their entire church is built on the fact that some guy wanted a male heir. or do anglicans believe that this isn't rly why their church came about

Okay, I do love clowning on my Anglican friends, but there are a few angles (da dum tss) that we can look at in terms of why the Anglican Church is a distinctive tradition.

Theologically, the Anglican Church might have started off as "Catholic without the Pope," so to speak; the Anglican Church was essentially Gallican in nature, meaning that the head of the church wasn't the seniormost bishop, but the head of the state. But even if it started off simply being in schism with the Roman Church, it didn't take very long before Reformed theology started entering the Church through the efforts of Anne Bolelyn, Thomas Cromwell, and especially Edward VI. There were preceding documents, but the Thirty-Nine articles passed by Queen Elizabeth I in 1571 helped to solidify a distinctively Anglican identity.

But it's a little more than that, too, because in addition to this Protestantization of the Anglican Church, there have also been movements within to.... "Latinize" might be the wrong word, but to bring back some traditional Catholic elements. We see this, for example, in the Oxford movement of the 1830s; many of its members would end up converting to Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy, but those who remained behind started the Anglo-Catholic movement which still has a strong presence. (My girlfriend goes to an Anglo-Catholic parish, and our city has at least three other ones).

This kind of dual accommodation of Reformed and Catholic theological ideas has created a unique situation for the Anglican Church; Bishop J. Neil Alexander tries to articulate this by distinguishing the Anglican Church as a "pragmatic church," in contradistinction with "confessional churches" (Catholic & Lutheran, which focus on creeds and councils) and "experiential churches" (Baptist and other groups whose memberships require a born-again moment):

What, then, does it mean to be pragmatic? It means that within the generous capacity of the Episcopal [American Anglican] Church, we do not always agree on matters of biblical interpretation or theological definition. It means that we have all gotten here by way of hundreds of different and often unique experiences of God's presence in our lives. It means that those things which other churches depend to hold themselves together will never be a central feature of our common life. We find our life together driven by our willingness to stand together at the table of God's gracious hospitality. […] That, I believe, is the pragmatism at the heart of what it means to be an Episcopalian. We are a variegated tapestry of theology and experience, and we are all the richer for it. But no level of theological agreement or experiential commonality will ever be the basis on which Episcopalians will live together well. What is possible is that we will be pragmatic —we will keep our differences in perspective— and we will recognize that ultimately nothing will divide those who are willing to stand together before God's altar to sing, to pray, and to receive the gift of God's eternity.

Now, this is a very fascinating situation, because it means that the Anglican Church has a lot of diversity in religious thought and doctrinal opinion. On an official level, that means you will have bishops aligning with different theological orientations working side by side — and, in theory, the office of Archbishop of Canterbury is supposed to alternate between Anglo-Catholic and Evangelical holders. On a more personal level, I have found that the Episcopal clergy who I interact with have varying spiritualities and theologies; one priest I know has Catholic sympathies that are so strong that he was referred to as "the Papist" in seminary, while another clergymember I know doesn't think Confession is necessary and is ambivalent about her parish's practice of Eucharistic Adoration. And they work at the same church.

Liturgically, they are also distinctive. The current bedrock of Anglican prayer is the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, which is clearly inspired by Benedictine spirituality, but with continuing liturgical revision and innovation that kind of fits with the 'pragmatic church' mindset explained above. Some Anglican parishes even preserve pre-Tridentine traditions (remember, they split before the Council of Trent), like the Sarum Use.

The Anglican Church has had a developing liturgical patrimony for the past five centuries; one of the reasons why the Catholic Church created the Anglican Ordinariate was because it recognized that fact, and wanted former members of the Anglican Church to be able to preserve their traditions even after re-entering communion with Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, like, the Anglican Church may have started off as a more-or-less Catholic particular church that was in schism with Rome, a schism orchestrated by a king who wanted fuller control over the Church in his country, but the Anglican Church has had five centuries of development. And, as much as I like to clown on my Anglican friends, I can definitely see why the Anglican communion has a deep appeal.

[beybaldes]

open the blinds, let me see your face

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: befriending Sejanus plinth was a choice you made, falling in love with him wasn’t

warnings: one use of y/n, I make Arachne crane out to be a high school mean girl, little bit angsty but it’s most fluffy, miscommunication, overhearing something, Sejanus being a little self deprecating :(( protect my baby boy

an: thanks for all the love on my Sejanus fics so far!! Here’s another one <33 tag list ~ @celestialstar111 <33

Sejanus Plinth sits two seats to the left of you on the curved bench in the classroom and he always has his head hung low like a wounded dog; hunched over and trying to protect itself, ready to bite if provoked enough.

There was a day last spring when Festus Creed was mid conversation with you as you entered the classroom, and moved to sit with you so he could carry on talking to you until the lesson began. You got to your usual seat and carried on, moving one seat over and letting Festus sit in your usual seat, but when you’d arrived for your learning the following day you didn’t move back, sitting in the seat one to the left of where you usually did. Though you can’t quite remember when the one seat gap between you and Sejanus became the inch that stopped your arms from pressing against each other, you can remember when other people started to take notice.

The first had been an all-too eager Arachne Crane, who’d tried to make some scene about it over lunch, to which she’d very promptly failed. Although she’d made it perfectly clear just how weird she thought it was. “Are you two… friends?” She’d leaned across the table asking you in a loud whisper, totally oblivious to how her blazer went straight into her food in some kind of instant Karma. Her gaze flickered to where Sejanus sat, at a table for two yet still by himself, head hung low. Arachne’s face scrunched in disgust. “He isn’t the kind of person you should befriend, y/n.”

In her mind, she was just looking out for you, but in yours she was being unnecessarily mean. “And whose friend should I be, Arachne? Yours?” Silence took over the table as you scoffed, a genuine look of hurt crossing Arachne’s face for a split second and then passing, and Festus reaching for your shoulder, patting it gently as if to say ‘you took it too far this time.’ To hell with all of them, if anyone had taken things too far it was Arachne when she felt the need to make fun of sweet Sejanus Plinth for no reason. You stood from the table, half eaten lunch in hand. “That’s what I thought.”

It isn’t difficult to see where you’re going, the whole table watching as you headed straight for the seat opposite Sejanus. Arachne gets more and more appalled with each step you take, refusing to believe that you’re willing to sit with Sejanus over her, yet, you seem to ask him something, and then pull out the seat with a softer smile then you’ve ever given her and get straight to talking to the brunette. She can’t believe her eyes.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” Sejanus looks up at you with wide eyes, his whole body stilling at the question. Of course it was okay, but why would you want to sit with him? At first he thinks it’s some kind of cruel joke with the way a table full of senior academy students are looking at him with Arachne at its head, but then he thinks about everything he knows about you - you’ve never been anything but kind to him, you sat next to each other in class and made pleasant enough small talk, and though he doesn’t think you’d remember, on his very first day of attending school in the capital you came and sat with him under the big oak tree in the yard, asked him what living in district 2 had been like and shared his sweets.

He quickly rules that your question is sincere and pulls his tray closer to his side of the table, nodding. “Please do.”

“Thank you.” The two of you last about 5 more seconds without either of you saying anything before you speak up. Even facing him, Sejanus keeps his head hung low. “You’re very kind, Sejanus.”

He likes the way you say his name, the way it seems to roll perfectly and fluidly off your tongue, like it was meant to be said by you. What’s worse is he knows he likes the way you say his name so much that he’s blushing, so, he ducks his head and try’s to bore holes in the table top. “I don’t know about that.”

Once more, Sejanus Plinth was hiding away from the world, or in this case you, and you were having non of it. Tapping his hand with yours, you waited until he looked up at you before you spokes. “Really? Because I know for a fact you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.” If his face wasn’t already flushed the same red as his clothes, it would be now. “I mean, have you met half the people in this room? Kind isn’t exactly their forte.”

His smile widens so much he has dimples prominently on show that you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen before. Sejanus’s face was made for dimples and smiling, you’re sure of it. “Well, if you say so.”

From then on, not only do you sit directly next to each other in all your classes, you begin to each lunch together too, and eventually it escalates to Sejanus walking you home everyday after having lessons at the academy.

The first time he walks you home it’s pitch black out and the two of you have been sat in the academy’s library for hours upon hours studying for an exam. At the bottom of the steps you go to part ways, but Sejanus turns in the same direction as you and carry’s on walking. It’s takes three streets in the direction of your house for you to be brave enough to say anything about it.

“You do know you live in the opposite direction, right?” Sejanus’s gaze fell to the floor and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Obviously he knew that, but he wasn’t able to outright admit he’d simply wanted to walk you home either - for some reason he could easily became a blushing, stuttering mess around you, and when you consistently looked at him like that, it didn’t make things any easier. “I know.” He didn’t know what else to say, but in an attempt to not blow his cover, he practically admitted it. “I just like talking to you, wasn’t ready to stop yet. I’d quite like to carry on walking this way, if you don’t mind.”

For the first time, it was you who became the blushing mess, looking anywhere but at Sejanus as you nodded, trying desperately to not let your hand brush against his. “Yeah, no, yeah. That’s- that’s more then okay. I don’t mind at all.”

When you finally reach your doorstep later that evening, you’ve brushed hands with Sejanus at least ten times and thought about just going for it and holding his hand twice. Three times if you count the fact you want to reach out and squeeze it as a thank you right now. “I like talking to you too, by the way. Like, a lot.”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s- yeah, wow, cool, cool.” Sejanus was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands still tucked stiffly into his pockets and still avoiding you gaze. If he’d look at you more, then maybe he’d see just how much were growing to like him, like really like him.

In a moment of bravery, you stood on the tips of your toes, pressing a fleeting kiss against his cheek then running up the steps to your front door. “Goodnight Sejanus, thank you.”

Sejanus stood frozen on your doorstep for a long moment, his shaking hand coming up to ghost over where your lips had just been pressed against his cheek, a dazed look in his eyes. Only hearing your door close behind you started him enough to get him moving again, and on his way home before he spent all night stood in a stupor on your doorstep.

The next morning, Sejanus felt as though he was as light as a feather walking through the academy, a skip in his step that had heads turning to look at him. Even Coriolanus had stopped him to ask what was going on, the brunette only able to respond with a bright smile and an airy promise that it was ‘nothing.’ He was sure this attitude would’ve continued all day - and perhaps even forever, getting renewed each time you pressed a kiss to his cheek again - if he hadn’t walked into the main hall to hear you and Arachne in the middle of a heated argument.

“You know it’s not like that, Arachne.”

“Well, If you’re not with him for his daddy’s money, I can’t see anything worth while. After all, he’s barely Capitol, district scum, so the only thing that would make sense is if-“ A wicked grin curled onto Arachne’s perfectly painted lips and it knocked you sick. She hasn’t even said the words yet and you knew she was about turn your world upside down, tell everyone what you’d been trying so hard to keep. “You love him.”

“No, no, that’s not-“ Your voice shook as you spoke and it was obvious to anyone that you were lying, well, anyone except Sejanus, who took your nervousness as embarrassment and felt his heart shatter. Of course it had been too good to be true. More fool him, he thought, for thinking one little kiss to his cheek meant anything.

But it wasn’t just one little kiss, it was so much more. It was thinking about holding his hand every time you were near him, it was getting two different things at lunch and having half and half each, it was knowing he’d always rather have a glass of apple juice, and that his Ma made the best baked goods in all of Panem. It was bumping your arm against his whenever one of your classmates said something stupid, it was him offering his blazer without you asking like he just knew how cold you were, it was curly hair that you wanted to run your fingers through and arms you wanted to step into and never move out of.

“You love him.” Arachne repeated, her words dripping with disgust the more she dwelled on them. Of course you would fall for the district boy, she’d only wished she’d been a better friend and stopped you before things got this far. “Poor thing, falling for a boy from the districts.”

“I’m not-“ Sejanus had heard enough, turning on his heel and heading out of the hall, not caring for the way the door slammed shut behind him. Turning to the noise, you noticed the flash of brown curls and Coriolanus stood by the closed door. “Sejanus…”

“Oh no, did I hurt lover boys feelings?”

The sound of your palm struck flat and fast against Arachne’s face resounded around the room, everyone staring at the scene in shocked silence. “Do you ever stop being a vindictive bitch? Or do you have nothing better to do?”

Pulling your bag further up your shoulder, you turned and ran for the door, wanting to catch up with Sejanus before he got too far. “Sejanus!” Dread filled your stomach as you realised it might be too late, Sejanus no where in sight. You started making a mental list of all the different places he could be heading for when the main doors closed with a hard thud. It had to be Sejanus. So, you were quick to follow, sprinting down to the opposite end of the corridor, and out into the pouring rain, not willing to lose him over something said by someone as cruel as Arachne Crane. “Sejanus, please, wait up!” Running down the marble steps without the care of slipping, you finally caught up to him, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm, causing him to still. “Let me explain, please.”

Sejanus turned to face you but kept his head hung low, something you hadn’t seen him do in months, and your heart clenched. Poor, sweet Sejanus Plinth curled into himself like a kicked dog, and it was your fault. “What is there to explain?” His words came out in a whisper, Sejanus trying his best to keep his calm as even if you were embarrassed by him, he’d never treat you wrong in anyway. Not even now. “You made it pretty clear how you feel about me.”

“Sejanus, please, Arachne was being cruel. You’re my best friend.” As you moved your grip down his arm to try and take his hand in yours, he pulled away from you, taking a step further back on the steps as well. “Sejanus please just let me explain, you have no idea-“

“You’re embarrassed of me.” He said firmly, as if it was the objective truth and you both just had to deal with that fact. He didn’t know how far from the truth it was. Sejanus’s hands curled into fists as he spoke and his voice trembled, like he was about to cry. “You’re embarrassed to be friends with the district scum who somehow made it to the Capitol, and you’ve spent the last few months becoming his friend because you pitied him, or to make fun of him, or something.” Sejanus was stumbling over his words as he got more and more upset, the rain against his face stopping you from figuring out if he was crying or not. “I get it, it’s fine, I just wish it hadn’t felt so real.”

Stepping closer to him before he could stop you, you cradled his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze and wiping away at the rain that coated his cheeks and matted his hair to his forehead. “It was real, it was so real, all of it, every single second. I promise Sejanus, I promise.” He was completely dazed by the feeling of your hands cupping his face and he only wished they’d been placed there in a different scenario. However you had taken his silence as disbelief in what you were saying, promoting you to continue, clutching his face tighter. “I’m not embarrassed of you, at all, ever. How could I be? God, I’d shout it from the rooftops just how much you mean to me if I didn’t know how much you’d hate everyone looking at you when I called your name.”

Sejanus was silent for a long moment, but leaned into the warmth of your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment while he took in what you said. “You would?”

You tilted his head down so that his forehead pressed against yours in desperation. “I’d do anything for you, Sejanus, please.” His lips were centimetres from yours, so much so you could feel him breathe against them. It’d be so easy to kiss him right now. Instead, you slide your hands back around his head to cradle the back of his neck, pulling him into a hug. “Please… please believe me.”

Sejanus was hesitant, but wrapped his arms around you; one pressing into the small of your back and the other cupping the back of your neck. You’ve never been anything but kind to him, and he highly doubted that you’d decide to stop being now, so out of the blue. But as much as he wanted to move on from this, believe you and pretend nothing happened, Arachne’s words can’t stop echoing in his mind.

Daddy’s money, barely capital, district scum, you love him, you love him, you love him.

“Is it true?” He asked, grip on you tightening slightly incase it wasn’t and this was the last time he’d hug you. For all the months that Sejanus didn’t know if you returned his feelings or not, he lived in blissful ignorance, like you were so far out of his reach that the confession of his feelings was something he’d never have to worry about. But now that Arachne had brought it up, he needed to know for sure. As selfish as it was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle staying just your friend. “Do you really love me? Like, love me, love me?”

There was no point in trying to hide it now. You’d spent weeks trying to be brave enough to hold his hand, and last night in a daze you’d kissed him on the cheek, and even though you would’ve rather done it of your own accord, you were about to shy away from the opportunity to get it off your chest. “Yes.” You whispered, tucking your head deeper into the crook of his neck, muffling your words. If this was the last time you were going to be able to hold him, you wanted it to last. “And if you don’t want to be friends anymore then I’m okay with that. I’d rather lose you because I loved you too much then lose you because you think I didn’t love you at all.”

Sejanus stayed silent, processing and digesting each of your word’s individually. A small voice in his head was telling him that this was all a dream and he was going to be woken to reality any second, but the rain against his face and your hands at the nape of his neck told him otherwise. Pulling away from you enough to look at you, Sejanus made sure to meet and hold your gaze, cheeks flushing red at the idea alone of what he was about to say. “I love you.” Nose slotted against nose, the words were said against your lips, the breath he released after he made his admission fanning against your skin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” You answered, nodding your head slightly and leaning forward, meeting Sejanus in the middle in a gentle kiss. Though a little awkward and unsure, neither of you knowing where to put your hands or how to actually kiss, what you lacked in experience you made up for in enthusiasm, trying to drink up as much of each other as possible in one kiss. His lips against yours were firm, but still loving and gentle in a way unique to Sejanus, and he let you guide the two of you through it, kissing you harder when you pulled him closer and waiting for you to end the kiss.

Finally breaking away from each other, you could feel the rapid rise and fall of Sejanus’s chest against yours. The boy in front of you now was more like the Sejanus you knew so well, his head hanging low, and a hot flush coating his cheeks that he was trying to hide form the world, from you. However, his flustered facade didn’t last long, as you placed a hand against his jaw, titling his head up to look at you. “Can I kiss you again, Sej?”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Something Wicked This Way Comes AU Skits:

A government agent: Would you like to join our team of highly trained and special indivi-

Reader: F*ck off

Government agent: I really think you'd like this program of ours-

Reader: I said f*ck off

Government agent: But you haven't even heard of what you'd get-

Reader: I'd get brainwashed and set on your personal enemies like a dog, believe me, we know the shtick, now f*ck off! I'm drinking my beer!

Reader: is nursing on a root beer

Government agent: knocks the drink out of Reader's hands

Reader: ...

Reader: You little f*ckin' @&>/ !!!! tackles them, biting and scratching, then kicks them out of the soda shop

Reader, answering why they haven't sought out their old "pals", Wolverine and Sabretooth: Well, would YOU try to seek out someone who you haven't had a decent conversation with since the early 1900s who then stabbed you in the guts after his brain got scrambled, or seek out the guy who got so fried in the noggin he tossed ya off a freakin' cliff after beating you to a bloody pulp? No? Well, that's what I thought!

The X-Teens: What the h*ll??!!😨😰

The Brotherhood: That's b*dass!!!🤩😍

The adults: Who did you say you were, again, Mx. Reader? 🧐🤨

Wolverine: I tore their guts out? Poor kid... Hmmm... something still isn't adding up...

Sabretooth: Eh, I toss a lot of people off a cliffs... and turn a lot of people into bloody pulp. Good on them for surviving! Except they seem too familiar to be just a random hit...

Reader: sweating bullets Um... I'm... leaving, right now! runs off, disappearing into the streets

Everyone: ... Okay, we need them as our new member-

Reader, seeing the X-Teens broke into their house and took something: Oh you little...

Reader: JAMES LOGAN CREED HOWLETT!!! GET YOUR F*CKIN *SS DOWN HERE TO FIX YOUR BRATS' MESS, OR SO HELP ME I WILL DRAG YOU BACK HERE BY YOUR F*CKIN' EAR!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!?!?!

Logan: Who the h*ll is screaming at 1:00am in the morning?!

Logan: spots his kids sneaking into the mansion carrying an old and stained box

Logan: Kids. What. Did. You. Do.

The X-Teens: ... Um... we, um... maybestolesomethingfromReader!! But we had to! They're not telling us something, and we think it's important!

Logan: Well, it looks like you're all returning it, unless you want to be in the Danger Room for the next five hours 😡

The X-Teens: Please, just a peek! 🥺

Logan: ... Ugh, fine, just one look. Then we're gettin' in the car and returning it, you hear me?

The X-Teens and Logan, looking into the box: 😶

The box: full of video tapes, recorders, old papers and journals, and different rocks and fossils and old heirloom jewelry

Logan: Okay, fine, you take one thing, something that would be hard to miss-

Kitty: Done! grabbed an old recorder

Logan: I'll hold onto that, since you kids got us into this mess

Later-

Logan, listening to one of the many recordings in shock: It's been nearly two centuries, but I still miss James and Victor, even if they were both quite brash at times... Boys, right? ... Ha... I think Jimmy is called "Logan" nowadays... I think I should leave him be; he seems happy with his friends, he doesn't need me anymore... I suppose Victor doesn't need me, either... I guess it's hard to miss someone that they can't remember... well, I think that perhaps this summer I'll be able to finally pass-

Logan: pauses the old recording

Logan: ... I need to find them, NOW-

[teecupangel]

I don’t have the most complete knowledge of either piece of media, but my two most recent interests are Assassin’s Creed and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

I’m not sure how the standard Desmond Isekai would go, but I feel like Edward Elric as an Assassin would be nuts (regardless of if he can do alchemy or not).

It would be fun to make Edward an Assassin but, considering Desmond’s personality, Desmond would probably be more inclined to teach people who do not know how to use alchemy (or can’t use alchemy in general). They would become the basis of his Brotherhood because, once Desmond realized that he’s in another world, he’d definitely try to build his own network.

Especially once he noticed just how much power the military wielded in Amestrian.

And then he learns of the serial killer Scar and investigate why Scar was killing state alchemists specially which leads to him uncovering the truth about the supposed Ishvalan civil war.

And that’s how Desmond and his Brotherhood become a third party. Whether alchemist or not, they assassinate those who use their power to harm the innocent. This, of course, causes him to be in the opposite sides with the Elric brothers.

It doesn’t help that he taught his Assassins how to take down alchemists even though they themselves do not use alchemy (a combination of Assassin tools, skills of an Assassin and a bit of help from 21st century knowledge) but Desmond himself do not condone Scar’s more destructive way of doing things and it’s a toss up if Scar is meant to be an assassination target or a possible ‘recruit’.

Mustang himself believes that the Assassin Brotherhood (as they call themselves) would come for him sooner or later considering many of the assassinated alchemists also participated in the Ishvalan civil war.

That’s why there are rumors that Desmond himself is an Ishvalan (which isn’t true but a few Assassins in his Brotherhood is Ishvalan).

The Elric brothers only see him in the shadows but Edward tried to fight him because, as far as he knows, the Brotherhood was killing alchemists in general (there’s a lot of hushhush about the bad things the targets have done). Edward absolutely transformed his metal arm to a hidden blade once and Desmond took that as an insult while Edward only did it because he realized it was the best weapon at the heat of the moment so there's a bit of 'bad blood' between them.

And then there’s the homunculi who are interested in him but seem to not do anything but observe him.

They know he’s not of this world and there might be a possibility that The Truth led him into this world.

…

Or…

And Desmond is calling bullshit on this.

Lust may or may not have implied that Desmond is a homunculus by the name of ‘Acedia’.

[flagellant]

What would you say is the earliest church heresy? Like, the original big no-no

Oh see now you've hit an interesting little rabbit hole without realizing it, because we know both a whole lot and also not much about the early days of the Christian church as we understand it.

So this faith leader guy gets executed or whatever, right? And now you have a bunch of his post-postmortem followers running around spreading his branch of weird Judaism which gets twisted into the first beginnings of Messianic Christianity. But this is back in ye olde days, and also the Romans are gonna be killing any Christians they can find, so the earliest days of the church are mystery cults sporadically popping up like mushrooms. (Is the Holy Spirit like a mycelial network? Who can say)

One of these early Christians was a very popular guy named Arius. Arius told his followers that Jesus WAS born of God, but that he was NOT God himself (the word you're looking for vis a vis that relationship is that Jesus is consubstantial with God, as in, made of the same simultaneous divinity.) and therefore should not be worshipped as one would God.

Then some time passes and all the big bishops of this hot new gig called Christianity realize, wait, hold on, we need to get shit straightened out. We can't ALL be calling ourselves Christian when people are saying Jesus was a hologram, or that he was born of God but isnt God, or that he was just some guy that God really liked. We need to all sit down and decide what we as a unified and universal group believe about our religion. So they all go down to this little place called Nicaea where everyone hashes out exactly what they believe in as Christians, and the end result is that Arius was shot down, which is why in the Nicene Creed there's that one specific line that goes something like this:

Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt.

Sharp eyes may have spotted that special little word consubstantialem in there. The earliest founders of the early church basically made certain that in their formalized dogma, Arianism would always be called heretical, because Jesus' position in the trinity requires him to be equal to but distinct from the Father. All of trinitarian Christianity agrees that Arianism is a no go.

Personally I do think we should have more Judasian heresies though. Like I guess I get why so many early heresies are centered around the nature of the trinity and specifically J Dog but it does begin to grate.

[constellation-em]

Being a Mandalorian on Din's Ship

Oh yeah, and you're secretly in love with each other.

While you don’t believe in keeping the helmet on as part of the Creed, you still do so as a sign of respect for Din. 

It took you guys approximately three months to stop calling each other Mando or “Hey you!”

You installed a radio in the cockpit, but Din only wants to listen to orchestra music. The radio was suspiciously broken within a week, and you definitely have no idea what happened to it. Definitely. 

You have nicknames to call each other in public. You call him Mando, and he calls you Scout. 

Sometimes when you’re in really busy markets, he’ll grab onto your arm to keep you from getting swept away. He knows that realistically you won’t, because you’re a strong warrior, but he worries anyway. 

Din doesn’t know when his birthday is (and doesn’t care), so you picked a day to celebrate. 

Knowing full well the importance of gifting weapons in Mandalorian culture, (they often accompany a marriage proposal), you bought Din a new blaster for his birthday. He got weird and quiet for a few days, and then presented you with a beskar necklace with his signet on it. While your helmet covers your face, you’re sure he knows you were crying. 

You’ll often sit in complete silence for hours at a time in the cockpit, especially when in hyperspace. 

Speaking of hyperspace, it gets cold as balls when you’re travelling in it. One time when Din noticed how cold you were he grabbed an extra cape of his and wrapped it around your shoulders. 

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, but he claims he’s looking out a side window. You know better. If he was just looking out the window, why did he whip his head back forward as soon as you looked at him?

He knows you don’t like wearing your helmet 24/7, so sometimes he tells you when he’ll be in his room so you can have time with it off. You’re not used to wearing it so much and it’s started giving you headaches. 

One time when you were at a cafe chasing a bounty, someone started hitting on you very aggressively. You lied to the guy and said you had a boyfriend, to which he replied that he bet he “could treat you so much better than him”. Din appeared practically out of nowhere, told the man “I doubt that.” and just walked away arm in arm with you. You held on to eachother the entire walk back to the ship. You didn’t get the bounty that day, and you never talked about that moment. 

You’ve noticed that sometimes when you step into the cockpit, if his helmet is off he’s started taking a little bit longer to put it back on. As if he’s inching himself closer to showing you his face. You’re too afraid to ask. 

You’ve never seen his face, but he’s seen yours once; the day you met. He told you about his belief in the Creed, and you replied that if you were going to live on his ship, you would live by his tenants. He seemed surprised by that, but later told you he respects you strongly for it. 

You grew up Mandalorian, just not in as strict a covert as his. You were never bound to cover your face, and you were not a foundling. That being said, you’ve come to appreciate the power behind a united force of just being “Mando” to strangers. 

Your contract was initially for only six months, but when your time was up you just… kept working and living on the ship. You never talked about extending it, it was just unsaid that you would continue being there. 

[lucozadehulahoop]

A Question of Time (Astarion x f!reader/tav) part 3/?

Chapter summary: Astarion makes his choice, but his actions don't go unnoticed. Call it divine intervention.

A.N: Big thank you for the massive love on this! I've only been posting this fic for three days and the response has been overwhelming! I appreciate every single comment and it really keeps me motivated. The tag list will be posted below the cut because it's getting a bit long ahh.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

warning for this chapter: seggsual sention (eh more just dorks being dorks)

part 1 part 2 part 4

"Astarion, favored soul, I send you my own flesh and blood to remove you from harm, yet you do not take your chance to flee..." An ethereal voice sang to Astarion as he tried to make sense of his own surroundings.

Slowly he began to recognize the cemetery, the tombstones, his own grave... how had he ended up back there?

The moon shined brightly down on him, and slowly the origin of that voice materialized itself right in front of him.

Astarion may have not been a believer, but he could recognize a goddess when he saw one. Much like in her many popular depictions, Sehanine wore what resembled a black silk gown, the very fabric that created the shadows she was a patron of. Her hair was black and white, her skin deep blue like the ocean, and her eyes the shape of twin moons. Many were the elves who worshiped 'the Moonweaver ' dutifully.

Sehanine was also the only diety criminals and tricksters seemed to cling to. A favor from the patron of illusions and misdirection could make the difference between the success or failure of a deed carried out under the cover of night.

But she was not only the goddess those who worked in secrecy and trickery often asked for a blessing from. Love was the biggest blessing tied to her name, and many cursed her for being the protector of lovers who steeled away for a tryst in the night.

"Do not be afraid, Pale One." She smiled at him eerily. "I appear to you now to give you guidance. I am sure by now you recognize me, even though on this plane I have come to be known to many as Selùne in these times, but you have been alive since the days of the old creed..."

"Y-yes--" Astarion stammered, never once having thought he'd be entertaining a conversation with a diety.

"I know you have not once believed in anything that was not material, and I am not here to test your faith, little vampire. I have been guiding your journey through this world ever since you began to display all of those qualities that are so dear to me... the Moon has been your close ally in all of your deeds..." The goddess proclaimed. "I look out for my own, but now... you go against my design to deliver you from your wretched master. Why is it so?"

It was quite a hefty amount of information to take in all at once. Not to mention preposterous. Guidance? Protection? If Astarion had been so favored by the gods, why in the seven hells had he been crushed underneath Cazador's heel for two hundred years?

The anger didn't take long to boil up inside of him. "No. No, forgive me, your holiness, but there has to be some kind of mistake here." Astarion sneered. "I think you've got the wrong Astarion, because this one has been attacked by the Gur, turned into a vampire, and subjected to two centuries of torture at the hands of a maniac!"

Sehanine smiled down at him once more, almost as if Astarion's lament was something to be amused by. "It is not up to me to explain the trials and tribulations of mortal life, dear one... If I directly interfered with the lives of every being I wished to influence in a constant manner, then other gods would want the same and war would surely break out amongst us. I would not come to you if I did not fear great peril on the horizon. Your Master, Cazador Szaar, has joined a league with dark, dangerous forces... forces that are enemies to myself and other entities that keep the balance between good and-"

Astarion scoffed. "I fail to see, how any of this is my concern."

The goddess's eyes became pitch black and her form started to warp into something far more sinister. "Count yourself lucky I consider your quick wit as a quality, but do not make the mistake of disrespecting me again, vampire spawn." She threatened in a booming voice. "You will be turned into a sacrificial lamb to your Master's ascension to near-godliness if you do not flee now, underneath my daughter's protection."

Astarion was silent for a very long while. In fact, he could not tell how much time had passed before she finally spoke again, her voice once again gentle.

"I will not have one of my own be involved in this abomination of a rite. In fact, I will make sure Tav stops this event from coming to pass so that she may meet her destiny."

Astarion couldn't stop himself from speaking his mind once again, even at the cost of being punished by the divine. "Meet her destiny? Surely... surely you must know how powerful Cazador is. I mean, I've seen what your darling daughter can do, but she doesn't seem to have a single mean bone in her body and you might risk losing her-"

"Tav must die for Cazador and the rest of the evil he's created to be eradicated for good." Was the goddess's simply put answer.

"But... she's your daughter." Astarion failed to understand until it finally clicked in his head. "You---you set her up like a lamb for slaughter. This is why she couldn't keep away from me? Because you made her come to my rescue every time? And now she's... Hells, she's getting rid of Cazador for you and dying in the process because you can't look bad in front of your god pals? What happened to looking out for your own?"

"I may have brought her into this world, but she is not one of my own." The Moonweaver clarified." Too sweet, too good-natured. The only thing I can truly recognize is her beauty. But no, I have not spoken to her, ever. I thought it best she did not know the pain of who she truly is, nor how she will meet her end. I simply know how and when it will come to pass. Yet, it was quite surprising to see how deeply attuned to your pain she is... and in the grand scheme of things it drew her like a moth to a flame, right into Cazador's grasp..."

Astarion began to feel violently ill, and he couldn't understand why. "Wait, what do you mean, what are you talking about---"

"Oh hush now, don't tell me you care for her? I would find that hard to believe..." She grinned, her very nature compelled to be intrigued by displays of affection, especially when they bloomed in the most unlikely of circumstances."However, I must go now, little vampling. But do not worry, Tav will be remembered, I will personally make sure to immortalize her in the stars for her valiant sacrifice."

"No!" Astarion cried out as he thrashed on the floor, suddenly regaining consciousness underneath Tav's tear-brimmed eyes.

She had been trying desperately to bring the pale elf back to consciousness after he'd dropped to the ground unexpectedly, his red eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body wracked by convulsions.

"Astarion!" She shook him a little more for good measure. "Astarion stay with me!" Tav let out a little sob, never having come across a physical ailment she hadn't been able to cure.

"Hells below..." Astarion cursed, slowly managing to sit up as he caught up with what had just happened.

Tav was quite a sight for a creature who hardly ever seemed to be affected by anything. Tear-stained cheeks, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. Astarion couldn't recall the last time someone had ever displayed worry over him. And now that he knew the truth about so many things, he didn't deem himself worthy of it. "Cheer up, sweet, I'm alright." He couldn't help but say, pinching her nose softly between his curled fingers.

"Alright?!" Tav barked at him, huffing and shooing his hand away. "You dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and then you started convulsing!" She accused as if Astarion had done so on purpose. "You were completely unresponsive for almost half of an hour! How often does this happen for you to think it's alright?"

Astarion could think of a million things to say. A close encounter with Tav's dear old mom being the explanation at the forefront of his mind. But the implications of that conversation having undeniably taken place (considering it hadn't been just some weird dream as he'd liked to have hoped) were too painful to consider. He should have been thinking about the fact that Cazador planned to sacrifice him. He should have been burning with rage at the mere thought of his death aiding his captor on the path to becoming god-like.

Instead, all he could do was laugh, enjoying the way it riled up Tav even more. "Like a what? Darling, I must say my likeliness has been compared to many things in my lifetime, but a sack of potatoes has certainly never made the list..."

"Oh well, then may I suggest that 'obtuse ass' also be included?" She retorted, getting in his face as she was completely unamused by the way he was belittling her concern.

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the shape of my backside?" Astarion tilted his head closer too, meaning to snap back at Tav, but instantly realizing his words had come out quite a bit softer than intended.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant..." Tav whispered, mimicking his tone as her pupils turned into the size of saucers.

"You're the one who brought it up..." Astarion shrugged, as he had a very private laugh within himself at Tav's expense. She was so gullible, he could have eaten her up.

"No! You have misunderstood me. Please, I apologize if I have made you feel--" Tav was in the middle of expressing a sincere apology when she realized Astarion could no longer contain the amusement he was having at her expense. "You are despicable!" She huffed, doing a poor attempt at shoving at his chest before getting herself back up on her feet.

Astarion chose to admire her a few seconds more from where he was sitting on the ground. "Now that, my darling... is something I've definitely been called before."

Tav crossed her arms over her chest as she adamantly checked on his capability to stand back up on his feet again. "How will you know it won't happen again?" She asked him seriously, referring to the episode that had just transpired.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'll get called 'despicable' again for days to come." Astarion attempted to avoid the question.

"I meant you fainting!" Tav insisted.

"I've... got a pretty good idea of what I need to do to stop it from happening again." Running away from this hellhole, and leaving you here none the wiser, so I don't get any more friendly reminders from your mother, Astarion thought to himself as he swallowed down a knot in his throat. He looked out the window and recognized the familiar hues of light. The day was coming and he wasn't going to be able to leave until it was over.

Astarion needed to get his affairs in order and rest. Staying simply wasn't an option.

Not to mention, he was practically starving.

His gaze began to linger extensively on Tav as she stared into the fireplace.

"You've been up all night, darling---" Astarion snapped out of his reverie and began to fret as he started closing all the window panes, making sure not a single ray of light would be able to break through. "Surely, surely it would be good for you to get some rest, no? In your room that is --- far, far away from me, I mean- I have tasks to do now. Servants are terribly, terribly busy people, you see---" He continued to ramble as he not so subtly nudged Tav out of his room, guiding her to the door. "I must get to my work-"

"But you are clearly unwell! You're the one who must rest, Astarion. You're even paler than usual-" Tav protested, turning into his arms to look up at him in defiance once more.

"May the gods help me -- no, actually let's leave them out of this -- must you stick your pretty little nose in everything I do? I can take care of myself and I'm not the helpless little critter you seem to think you've stumbled upon-" Astarion had intended on pushing Tav out of the room, but all he was doing in actuality was bringing her closer to his body.

"Well, you've certainly given me plenty of proof on that front haven't you?" Tav spat and twisted her hands in his worn-out shirt.

Just like that, they were back to arguing again, except this time it wasn't amusing for either of them.

"Proof? Is that what you want?" Astarion asked her, losing his last nerve to hunger and exhaustion.

The curtain fell, and Tav looked back into the face of a vampire.

---

A.N: hehe, oh how I like to tease you so. Okay real talk, this is now an ongoing fic. Truly, you guys have given me so much love, and I'm overwhelmed. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I thank you all for joining the ride. stay tuned for part 4!

This story is also on Ao3 btw, for the people who prefer reading it there.

tag list (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!): @d0nutkaky0in @i-just-want-to-sleep-97 @omggiannarosa @dead-giirl-walking @warbwarts @mrsfullbuster500 @uwomina @iyaesakura @cheeslyy @dragon-kazansky @bambamwolf87 @chibi-chi @orsomethingelseentirely @davenswitcher @adequate-superstar @ophelias-flowerss @tragedybunny @yaimlight @the-golden-ouroboros @candyladycry @babygirlbrainrot @mariposakitten @blobs-away @biganddrunkunicorn @astarionmisc @the-garbage-central @raviolixxx

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Do You Want Me, Cyar'ika [happy]

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: HEY THIS IS DARK WATCH OUT, stalking, manhandling, slight choking if you kind of squint, dubcon (reader is willing, but is def under the influence of the darksaber), smut, hand job, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of permanent scarring of the reader

Word Count: 6,717

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you. Part One: Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika Part Two: I Love You, Cyar'ika

[a/n: THIS IS THE HAPPY ENDING TO THIS TRILOGY. My suggestion is to read the version you really want first b/c the beginning half is the exact same. It's only the end that differs.]

.

"sometimes, you just need a fresh start. a new beginning. a clean slate. just get rid of everything going wrong and make it go right." -the importance of starting over

.

The echoing of your footsteps bounced off the walls and the quick pace seemed to match the racing of your heart. No looking back. You needed to get to the tarmac. Din was supposed to be in the war room with Bo Katan and the others in his council discussing something or another. This morning he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to meet you for lunch until a bit later in the afternoon. Half an hour after he had told you this, you grabbed your stuff and started running. 

You had the right idea months ago when you first tried to leave. This was going to be your last chance. If he caught you this time you don’t know that you’d ever get the chance to run away again. Memories of that beskar chain and anklet hung heavy in your mind as you picked up your pace. A terrifying thought occurred to you. Would he stop there? How far would Din go to keep you by his side? You truly believed, deep down, that Din wouldn’t hurt you, but… were you just being delusional? At some point, he’d consider the line to be crossed.

The tarmac was mostly empty. The few Mandalorians that were in the area gave you curious looks, but nobody dared stop you. That was a side effect of being ‘owned’ by the Mand’alor and though you found it disturbing previously it was truly working in your favor now. Everybody on this rock, save for a few people like Bo Katan, were too terrified of Din to even look in your direction for longer than a few seconds. As you sprinted to the closest ship you knew how to pilot, the Mandalorians began to disperse. You had a suffocating suspicion that they were in the process of calling Din.

You made it further than you had last time. You were on the ship, ramp closing behind you, and you clambered into the cockpit and got things running. As the ship slowly began to rise, you saw him. Din stood at the edge of the tarmac with his hands on his hips. The wind tunneling through the ship’s exhaust and down onto the ground below caused Din’s thick cape and hair to whip around. Even from this distance, you could feel Din’s gaze burning straight through you. The look on his face was haunting⏤ a mix of devastation and unbridled rage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Even after the ship was in the atmosphere and Din was far out of view, you stared down at Mandalore in pain. Your chest ached as your heart already begun to miss the man you were running from.

Before allowing yourself to wallow, you input the coordinates to Tatooine and let the ship slip into hyperdrive. The second those all too familiar lines of blurred space cast a blue glow in the cockpit, you pulled your knees up into your chest to bury your face there. If somebody were to ask you the exact reason why tears streamed down your face you would not be able to give them an answer.

You just knew, everything was wrong.

You agonized over who to send a message to. As you drew ever near to Tatooine, doubts began to plague your mind. Should you reach out to Boba and Fennec? They were obvious choices because they cared about Din and they knew how to hold their own in a fight. However, you had a nagging fear at the back of your mind that would not silence. It blared like a ghostly siren. Din was not himself right now, and though you knew without a doubt that he would not hurt you, could the same be said for Boba and Fennec? Especially if they stood in the way of Din getting to you?

You hated that you were unsure of that.

You hated that a part of you honestly thought Din might hurt his friends or worse.

There was no changing course though. The best solution you had was to get in touch with Luke Skywalker. He might have answers about this. Even if he didn’t, having him and Ahsoka by your side would help. Three Jedi surely could get that cursed saber away from Din. Granted, there was no assurance that separating the saber from the love of your life would actually work, but it was all you had. It was the last bit of hope you could cling to. 

Upon your arrival to Tatooine, you immediately slunk away to a crowded cantina. You were not a fool. You knew Din was not just going to let you wander away and you knew he was one of the deadliest bounty hunters in the galaxy. He was very good at what he did⏤ especially when passionate about the mission. That didn’t leave you very much time to get the information you needed. 

You sent out a decoded distress message to the number Skywalker had left you when he took Grogu. He left it strictly for emergencies and this obviously classified as one. After it was out in the universe, all you could do was wait. So you saddled up to the bar, sat on a stool, and ordered a drink. It was all you could think to do. This was the first time in ages that you were in a space not clouded by Din’s presence. You hadn’t realized until now how suffocating it had been.

Being with Din, watching his slow descent, you had gotten accustomed to that cloud of darkness that hung over his head. To the point where you didn’t notice it worsening and worsening. It felt as if your body had acclimated to living under the ocean. Your body grew used to the crushing depths. Your lungs shriveled from the lack of oxygen. Your eyes grew blind from the absence of light. Now? Sitting at this dingy, dirty bar, it was as if someone had forced you up from the ocean floor and dragged you quickly up to the surface. It was jarring. The fresh air was painful as it filled your lungs, your eyes burned from the disappearance of darkness, and suddenly it was freedom that felt wrong. 

A sudden beeping made you glance down at the communicator. Eyes wide, you answered it, “Hello? Luke Skywalker?” Your name was spoken over the line in concern. “Thank the Maker. I⏤ Din and I are in trouble.”

“What has happened?”

“It’s…” You took in a slow breath and began to walk him through what was going on. You started with the moment he took Grogu and described every single downward step the two of you had taken with the saber in his possession. When you finished, your throat felt thick with emotion. “I got away, but he’ll be after me soon. I know it. Luke, I… I don’t know what to do. I just know I need help, and I’m too afraid to go to anybody other than you.”

“You were right to reach out to me.” Luke sighed. “This needs to be handled by us. No need to risk anyone else.”

The thought flickered through your head without warning. You were okay with putting Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka in danger. It came quickly and you swatted it away just as fast, but it felt like poison. Obviously, Boba and Fennec meant more to you than Luke and Ahsoka. You were closer to the first two. However, it still didn’t make risking the lives of the latter two okay. The fact that the belief attempted to nestle in your head reminded you of the dark saber. Your hand wrapped around your own lightsaber⏤ seeking comfort in the energy it radiated.

“You believe he’ll follow you, correct?” Luke questioned.

“Absolutely.” You answered without an ounce of hesitation.

Luke hummed on the other end of the line in thought. “I will send you coordinates. Come to us. The Mandalorian will follow and we will handle this from there. You just need to get here. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, trying to convince yourself. “I can. I’ll leave as soon as you send me those coordinates.”

“Of course. Call us again if you have trouble.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended and you threw back the remainder of the drink before rushing for the door. It would take fifteen minutes to get to the tarmac and you assumed you’d get the coordinates by then to use. The crowded Tatooine streets made you anxious. Shoulders clipped into yours as people rushed past you in the opposite direction. It felt like there were eyes burning into your skin, but every scan of the crowd told you it had to just be your paranoia. 

Your communicator beeped again and a quick glance down revealed the coordinates you’d be heading to. Good. You quickened your pace to turn a corner to the last leg of the path that would take you to the public tarmac when you spotted him. A flash of glinting silver under the hot Tatooine suns. Your feet came to a screeching halt, and for a moment the two of you stood stock still. Din was down the road. Closer to the tarmac’s entrance than to you. His hands rested on his hips, and he was helmetless. Even from this distance the darkness swimming in his brown eyes sent a chill down your spine. He had been a sight to behold in his full armor, a faceless figure of intimidation. However, you knew now that it was worse without the helmet. Actually seeing those burning eyes, rather than just feel them, made your stomach flip.

The crowd ebbed and flowed, a small group passing between the two of you, and when they passed fully Din was gone. You couldn’t see him. Without a second more of hesitation, you spun on your heel and sprinted in the opposite direction of where he had been standing. The public tarmac was a bust. You’d never be able to successfully route yourself back around, but you still needed a ship.

Peli’s shop. As soon as it came to mind, you altered course to head in that direction. You prayed that Peli wasn’t home. Hopefully she’d be out losing credits to a group of jawas in sabbac or conning some poor sap at the market. Your chest burned in the effort it took to keep your quick pace, your heart pounded painfully, and you could still feel Din’s eyes on you. Every time you glanced over your shoulder or down alleys there was no sign of silver, but you knew⏤ you just knew⏤ that he was hot on your heels somehow. 

You finally reached Peli’s shop and the garage was closed which meant she was not home, but you remembered the way in through the back. Peli had shown it to you and Din ages ago. Even if she didn’t have a client’s ship sitting in the bay, you could steal her land speeder and come up with a different plan from there. Once in, your eyes landed on a small ship parked in the main bay and your lips curled up into a relieved smile. Find the FOB, get the ship open and started. You rushed to Peli’s office and cursed the wrecked state it was in. Her baseline was chaotic and it showed in her organization choices. You dug through the mess until you found a FOB that seemed to match the ship waiting for you.

Victorious, you sprinted out of the office back down to the bay, but the second your feet stepped into the open area something hard slammed into you. The air was knocked from your lungs as you landed on the ground. Din’s features stared down at you as his body straddled yours. One of his gloved hands pinned down your dominant hand while the other clamped down on your throat⏤ not enough to restrict air, but just enough to convey his warning. You could see your fearful eyes reflected in the beskar covering him as he towered over you. Din’s face didn’t look angry or worried. He didn’t look scared or confused. Din looked cold. Emotionless. Somehow that was worse.

“Din⏤”

“Don’t.” Din said sharply. The fingers on your neck flexed once. “Don’t speak, cyar’ika.”

More suffocating than his demeanor and broad figure was the poisonous energy seeping out of the saber hung on his belt. You were drowning in it, struggling to keep your head above it’s dark waters, and Din was pushing you beneath the waves. He held you under. Din was a man drowning and in your attempt to rescue him he was dragging you to the depths as well. 

“How could you do this to me?” Din asked. His voice cracked⏤ the only sign of his pain. “Cyar’ika, you…” Din swallowed. A flash of heartbreak filled his expressive brown eyes and the degree of his hurt briefly made you feel guilty. Like you had been the one to betray him. “I love you. You are my everything. I would burn the world for you. How could⏤ How could you leave?”

“I never asked for you to burn the world for me, Din.” You whispered. “That’s not what I want.”

Din shifted and leaned down so he could rest his forehead against yours. His hand hung loosely around your throat, forearm pressed against your chest, and it was a position your body was familiar with. If you closed your eyes and gave into the darkness trying to claw its way down your throat and into your lungs, then you’d simply feel like you were sharing a private moment of intimacy with your love. Din’s lips suddenly ghosted against yours and you felt your body tremble.

“What is it you want?” Din begged. “I will give you anything. I just want you safe by my side.”

“I told you what I want, Din…”

Din sighed, his hot breath fanning across your lower face, “I can’t do that.” His voice was strained as if her were in agony. “The saber is how I protect you, cyar’ika.”

“You’re losing me because of that saber, baby.”

For the longest moment, Din remained silent. His eyes were closed and you could see him ruminating over something. After a second, he opened his eyes and Din’s eyebrows furrowed in defeat. A flicker of hope burned in your chest until he opened his mouth and spoke. 

“Things were okay. We just need to start from scratch again. I know you hated that chain, cyar’ika, but it’s for the best.” Din said softly and your eyes widened at how serious his words were. How much he believed that to truly be the best path. “It won’t be forever, I swear it. Just until I trust you again.”

“Din⏤”

“No.” Din snapped. His soft despair turning to a firm demand. “There will be no argument. I’m taking you home.” You opened your mouth once more, but Din’s fingers began to tighten around your throat marginally. “You’re already in trouble, cyar’ika. Don’t make it worse.”

Panic began to make your heart race. You were sinking fast and the light was beginning to disappear from your sight⏤ your freedom with it. In a poor attempt at a final chance of survival, you spoke up despite his order to stay silent. “I just wanted to say sorry.”

Din scoffed. “You understand why I find it hard to believe you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “Please, baby. I’m sorry. Please believe me. You know I love you.”

You could feel Din’s thumb around your neck tracing the skin under it as he stared down at you. He took in a deep breath and leaned in to press his forehead against yours once more. Din brushed his lips lightly against yours. “You’re always so pretty when you beg, cyar’ika.” That was the one thing you had working in your favor. Din always had a hard time telling you ‘no’ when your bodies were folded together like this. “I’ll hear you out, but let’s get to our ship first.”

“Why not now? Let me tell you how sorry I am, Din.” You begged and he let out a soft sigh as his eyes closed. Your eyes darted to the saber on his belt. If you ended up back on Mandalore it would be over. There would be no second chance. Determined, you rolled your hips up and just as you suspected you were met with the firmness of his half hard cock. Din groaned. “Let me show you how sorry I am.” Your non-dominant hand had been clutching at the hand he had at your throat, but you very slowly let it travel up his arm to bury in his soft hair. “Please, baby.”

You tilted your head up as much as you could with Din’s hand clamped around your neck. Carefully, in fear that too quick or sudden a movement would break the spell, you began to pull Din down closer. Din hesitated against the slight force of your hand only for a second before he slotted his lips against yours. As always, Din’s touch set you aflame. He released the wrist he had pinned and hooked that hand under your thigh to spread your legs so he could settle between them rather than straddle you. You should be focused on escape alone, but the taste of him made you hungry for more. You weren’t sure how much was your love for Din and how much was the saber twisting it into something recognizable. 

Din’s teeth caught your lower lip, and he pulled back a breath, “You’re supposed to be showing me how sorry you are, cyar’ika.” He leaned back down to lick into your mouth, his kiss crushing and near painful as Din’s hips pressed firmly against yours. He left his lips close enough that you felt every word he spoke. “Yet here I am…” Din gave a sharp thrust and even with layers of clothes between the two of you he was able to snap the bulge of his erection right where your clit was hidden. You gasped at the pleasure that rocketed up your spine as hot pangs arousal pooled in your lower belly. “...doing all the damn work.”

At his words, you closed the space to press your lips against his again, deepening the kiss, as your hands traveled to his belt. You undid his belt with practiced ease, and while one hand slipped under the waistband of his flight suit to find the base of his cock the other went to grasp the saber.

Your fingers brushed against the thrumming metal of the saber for only a second before Din’s hand slapped on top of yours pinning it to the saber. Everything froze. Din and you were both panting, breathless from your kiss. You had one hand stuffed into his pants with your hand pressed against his skin on the space above the base of his cock and the other on the saber. Din had one hand tightening around your neck while his other crushed your fingers against the darksaber. He chuckled and the sound sent chills throughout your body.

“Let go, Cyar’ika.” Din’s voice was gruff and seemed to rumble out from his chest. You began to try and pull both hands back, but Din grunted. “Not both. Just the saber.” You sucked in a sharp breath and remained frozen. “What? You don’t want to finish what you started?” He shoved one hand down his pants to roughly grab yours and force your hand to wrap around the entirety of his throbbing cock. It was like this tense moment was spurning him onwards⏤ filling him with a thrill you had never seen before. “I thought you were sorry.”

You hated how his words made your own core ache with want. 

Din snapped the saber off his belt tossed it off to the side. Too far for you too reach, but close enough that its influence weighed heavy on you still. He did the same to your own weapon which was hooked in its usual place on your belt. Din threw that one further, more carelessly, before lowering his face back down toward yours. His hand was still wrapped around yours, and Din thrusted into your dry grip. It couldn't be comfortable you thought, but Din moaned in your ear as if it were already drunk in pleasure.

“Din…” You murmured.

His hot mouth enveloped yours, tongue licking into you, as he thrusted twice more. Din’s teeth caught your lower lip again, but this time he bit down hard enough that the taste of metallic blood flashed across your taste buds. You yelped, he thrusted into your grip, and then Din pulled back just enough that you could see his lips painted with the red of your own blood.

“Are you going to make me take you?” He asked in a harsh whisper. “Or will you come willingly?” Din pressed his bloodstained lips against the side of your face, dragging, and you shuddered as a cold, but tempting, chill filled your body. “I’ll spend eternity chasing you, cyar’ika, but it will be more enjoyable if you just agree to be mine again.”

His lips found yours once more, and for one second you weren’t in your body. Your mind clouded with a sort of vision. You saw Din sitting on Mandalore’s throne splattered with blood he had drawn from others and his features masked in a cold indifference. The saber was not on his belt, but any confusion you had on it’s location faded as a different version of you came into view. She wore an elegant and revealing gown that was as dark as a starless night, and the inactive saber was held tight in her grip as blood covered her hands and left a trail of red petals as she passed. While Din’s face held a cold indifference this version of you looked feral with enjoyment. 

She settled herself on Din’s lap and the mask he wore cracked to reveal adoration as he stared up at this other you in awe. Without wasting a beat, this unrecognizable version of yourself pulled Din into a firm kiss. The blood on the hands that resembled yours smeared against his stainless beskar, and the blood on his face left smears along features you spent your entire life staring at in a mirror. Suddenly, the other you broke away to turn and it seemed she was glaring directly at you.

The saber in her hand activated and burned with a soul sucking energy that seemed to draw you in.

“Be mine.” Din’s voice snapped you back into the moment. “Be my queen, cyar’ika. I want no else.” He pressed his lips to yours again but in a way that was too soft to match the rest of this situation. The tip of his tongue dragged through the torn tissue of your lower lip and you shivered. “Let me protect you as you rule by my side.”

And you wanted it. It was like your body had finally reached the lowest depths and your lungs were filling with the dark water you were drowning in. It was almost peaceful allowing yourself to settle into the cold⏤ allowing it to swallow you whole. Distantly, you could feel the crystal in your lightsaber desperately calling out to you, but you were certain no light could reach you where you were. Cold turned to pleasure as Din’s hands began to map the familiar planes of your body. 

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered. Din molded his lips to yours and he pulled your hand out from where it was hidden under his waistband so he could have to room and access to begin frantically undoing your own belt. You lifted your hips so he could tug your pants down past your ass and off entirely. He didn’t bother with his own pants, deciding to just tug them down enough to be useful, and  Din settled between your legs. As he worked himself out of his pants he planted his lips against the hollow of your neck.

You tilted your chin up, panting, as you gave him more room to work his tongue against the skin there. Every atom of your being was throbbing and aching for the man on top of you, but briefly a glimmer of pain lanced through your heart. A reminder. You thought you were too deep in for the light to reach you, but your lightsaber’s call managed one faint echo. A weak lifeline back to the surface. Without thinking, your hand reached reached out to where the sabers were cast aside and for the first time in your life you felt the Force do more than just read an energy. It enveloped the space around you and seconds later something firm was in the palm of your hand.

You cried out, managing to roll Din and yourself over so you now straddled him. The saber activated in your hand and rather than the warm familiar glow you wanted, you were greeted by the soul sucking, burning energy of the darksaber lighting up in your hands. Your eyes widened in alarm. The power that washed over you was overwhelming. It rocketed up your arm and pierced your very soul. Din laid on the ground under you as you stared at the cold glow of the saber burning in your hands, and you heard him begin to laugh in amusement. 

“Maker, you’ve never looked prettier, cyar’ika.” Din grinned⏤ the look in his dark eyes was wild with desire. “How does it feel?”

Your skin was crawling as if someone was holding a live wire to it. A tremor shook your body and it took you a moment to detangle your mind away from the raw pleasure that screamed out to you. The darksaber was sinking it’s cold claws into every aspect of who you were and you could feel your reality slipping away from you. You tightened your hand around the hilt and began to squeeze. It was hard to focus the Force to bend to your will with the darksaber’s influence pressing down on you, but you clenched your teeth and squeezed harder. The crack of bending metal filled the air.

“No.” Din growled and his hands roughly pawed at you, to try and take the saber from your grip, but you raised your hands up above your head and continued to squeeze until you felt actual pain began to seep into your body. “Stop! Don’t!” 

The metal cracked further, heat began to lick out of the hilt as the saber’s burning energy flickered and grew wild. It was burning your hands, leaving the flesh it touched raw. Din screamed out at you to stop again, but you couldn’t hear him over the high pitched ringing the darksaber’s kyber crystal seemed to emit. The saber was angry⏤ the saber was scared. You focused every bit of your body’s energy to channel the Force. You screamed in agony as the saber was crushed under your grip. The crystal cracked and the energy stored in it grew volatile and unstable. With one final push of power, the crystal shattered into pieces within the crushed hilt of the saber and the release of energy blew you backwards into the dirt. 

Your ears from ringing from the blast. Your head ached painfully, you could feel blood matted in your hair from where the back of your head had slammed into the ground, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the miserable and excruciating pain that was radiating up your arms. Shakily, you lifted your hands up to try and examine them. Even though your sight was growing blurry, you could still make out the state of your hands. Scorched flesh, raw and torn, greeted you and warm blood was dripping from the spots where jagged bits of kyber crystal embedded in your skin. It rained down on you.

“No, no, no, no.”

Din was suddenly in your line of vision as he cupped the side of your face in fear and disbelief. Your hands, heavy with exhaustion, fell limp and they didn’t even hurt much anymore. You were having trouble feeling anything actually. “Please, Maker, no.” Din gasped. His voice was ragged and hoarse. Tears were swimming in his eyes and for the first time in ages, you recognized the clarity. “Cyar’ika, no, please…”

Your lips twitched up in a smile as you gazed up at him. You sighed in relief, “It’s you.” Din’s face crumpled as the tears streaked down his cheeks as he tried to pull you closer. “You’re back, baby.”

His voice seemed far away. As your eyelids grew heavy, you still felt content. If these were to be your last moments you were more than happy to share them with Din Djarin. Your Din Djarin. Pure and kind hearted. Loving and soft. Darkness seemed to envelope you, but it was not the cold darkness the saber used to force you into. This was warm and tender. You felt enveloped in love and your own kyber crystal, loyal and strong, whispered a lullaby as you relaxed into sleep.

.

[three months later]

.

It took you ages to find Din. After waking up in Boba’s palace, post bacta tank infusion, you realized he had slipped away without a word. Boba and Fennec had comforted you, but the only message Din left you was a soft apology passed down along friends. The fact that he hid from you was proof enough that the darksaber’s influence was gone from him. You felt it no longer either. Occasionally, you’d wake from a nightmare and a lingering darkness would cloud your thoughts, but it always dissipated with the morning light. 

You walked slowly toward the bench where he sat armorless. Din wasn’t wearing a shred of beskar, had not a single weapon on him, as he rested his elbows on his knees and stared into the distance where rolling hills and mountains sat. What made him hard to track was he stayed constantly on the move, but you were surprised that this was where he allowed you to catch up with him. You stopped by his side, Din didn’t turn to look at you, and you followed his gaze to see Grogu far in the distance sitting with Luke Skywalker on the crest of a small mountain.

“I don’t know why I came here.” Din mumbled quietly. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Din⏤”

“I don’t deserve to be here.” He added. Din hung his head down and lifted his hands to rub at his face in exhaustion. He shook his head once. “I was supposed to leave before your ship ever entered the atmosphere, but I… I got stuck.”

That made more sense. In a moment of weakness, he stopped to see his son and he hadn’t been able to tear himself away to flee you like he usually did. You reached out to touch his shoulder, but your fingers only managed to graze his shirt before he pushed to stand began to stalk away.

“Din!” You cried out and followed his brisk pace. He walked back to where his small ship at waiting. “Din, please, wait.”

“Leave, cyar’ika.” Din replied firmly.

“No.” You snapped and raced up the ramp into his ship’s tiny cargo hold to slide into his path to stop him. You expected to see anger in his eyes from your disruption, but the only emotion his large brown eyes conveyed was pain and desperation. You felt your heart ache at the way he stared down at you in misery. You shook your head. “Din, will you please talk to me?”

Din swallowed, his voice was hoarse, “There is nothing to talk about.” 

You reached out to rest your hands on his chest, and he glanced down to stare at them. The bacta tank had saved your hands and left you with full use of them, but the scarring remained. The skin was discolored with burn scars and jagged lines where kyber crystals had pierced your skin and left their mark. 

“This wasn’t your fault, baby.” You whispered as you noticed how intently he was staring at your hands. Din shook his head and tried to pull away from your touch but you tightened your hands into fists⏤ clutching his shirt like a lifeline. “Din, I don’t blame you.”

“You should!” Din suddenly yelled and your eyes widened. His hands wrapped around your wrists as he held your gaze. His voice shook. “You should blame me.” Din took in a sharp gasp. “This was all my fault. I was weak.”

“Din.”

“I remember it all.” Din closed his eyes in agony. “Maker, I⏤ I was manhandled you. I chained you to the fucking wall. Held you hostage.”

“Din⏤”

“Hunted you down like a bounty. Forced you into the position where you had to use your body just to distract me so you⏤ I⏤ Maker. Even if you don’t blame me, cyar’ika, I do. I don’t deserve access to my weapons. I don’t deserve the armor of a Mandalorian. I don’t deserve you.”

You held onto him tighter as he tried to pull your hands away from him. “I love you, Din.” He scoffed. “I do. I love you. The darksaber was to blame for all of that and I stayed by your side because I knew that and I refused to lose you to it. I stayed knowing the risk.” Din’s eyes were still shut tightly, but you could see tears collect in his eyelashes. “And I can’t lose you now.”

“Cyar’ika…” He mumbled.

“Open your eyes.” You demanded. You released his shirt but only so you could cup his face with your hands. Din’s entire body trembled under your touch and his hands squeezed your wrists. “Baby, open your eyes and look at me.” Finally, after an agonizing moment, Din opened his eyes and you offered him a small smile. “I love you.” He let out a shaky gasp. “And I can’t sit idly by while you punish yourself for sins that you shouldn’t have to bear. Please don’t run from me. Please let me stay. I’ll keep following you all over the galaxy if I have to or⏤ or if you don’t want me then I’ll… I’ll stop. If that’s what you really want, then I won’t follow.” Din leaned into your touch. “I’m not trying to control or torture you with my presence, I just… I miss you, baby.”

Din closed his eyes again and loosened his grip on your wrists so he could trace them up and lay them over your smaller hands resting on his jaw. He sighed. “I hurt you.” His thumbs traced the scarred skin on the back of your hands. “I did this to you.”

“No, you didn’t. The darksaber did, and I chose to fight that damned thing.”

“If I had been stronger against it then you never would’ve had to.”

“You had no way of knowing, Din.” You shook your head. “It even took me a while to realize how dangerous that saber was and I’m Force sensitive. Nobody in the galaxy would have been able to resist the influence of that kyber crystal even if they knew what it could do. You were blindsided by it.”

Din opened his eyes. “You resisted against it.”

You pressed your lips together then pulled his face toward yours so his forehead was resting against yours. “I knew what it was doing, and it was still the hardest thing I have ever done.” You admitted. “Even now I still feel that darkness crawling across my skin in the dead of the night. Like a ghost haunting me.” You tightened your grip on his jaw. “But you know how I did it?” Din didn’t respond, but you pressed onward. “I did it because I wasn’t going to let anything take you from me. I was not going to let it keep your soul⏤ I was not going to lose you.” Quickly, you pushed forward a pressed a chaste lip to his lips. “Not then. Not now. I will always fight for you. Even if it’s your own guilt I have to fight.”

“Do you want me, cyar’ika?” Din whispered⏤ his voice so soft and faint you almost thought you imagined it. 

You caressed your thumbs against his cheekbones. “I will always want you, baby. Always.”

To prove your point, you tenderly slotted your lips against his. You stayed motionless, just holding him to you, and you could feel a tear trace the outline of your thumb before reaching his lips. It was as if the taste of his salty tear awakened something in him. Din’s mouth began to move against yours desperately. You shifted your hands down and around his neck to cling to him. Din’s own arms wrapped tightly around your torso so he could pull you flush against his body. 

His lips suddenly left your lips to press sloppy, desperate kisses against your jawline then down your neck. Between every touch of his lips against your skin he whispered an apology or an exclamation of love. You tried to drag his lips back up to yours, but he surprised you by falling to his knees. You gasped and stared down at him. Din rested on his heels as his hands hugged the back of your thighs. He stared up at you in adoration, but you could still see agony there as well.

“I am so sorry.” He pleaded like a man begging in prayer at an altar. “I love you, and I am so sorry. I could spend an eternity reminding you of that and it still would not be enough to express how I feel.” Din leaned forward and rest his forehead against your hip. “Ni cuy’ nass ures gar. Ni cuy’ osi’yaim. Ni cuy’ hut’uun.”

You slowly peeled his forehead away from your hip and his hands off your thighs so you could kneel in front of him as well. You held his face once more and wiped away the lingering tears that stained his cheeks. “Cin vhetin.” Din’s eyes widened at the words. A phrase you had Boba teach you. “That’s what I want.”

“Cyar’ika…”

“I hate seeing you speak so poorly of yourself.” Your bottom lip quivered and your throat felt thick. “It pains me to watch you hate yourself⏤ when I love you so much.” Din sucked in a sharp breath. “So, if you love me still, Din, that’s what you’ll give me. Cin vhetin.”

Din paused before he gave you a curt nod. You pulled him into a tight hug, arms clinging to his shoulders, and you were relieved to feel Din hold you just as securely. As if you were both terrified to feel the other slip away again.

.

[three months later]

.

You woke with a start, eyes snapping open in the dark of your bedroom, and the cold, cruel ghost of the darksaber gripped your spine. It crawled up slowly as you tried to push away the lingering nightmare and piece together your reality. The bed under you shifted as someone climbed in beside you. A heavy hand slipped over your abdomen as Din shifted his closer. His bare chest pressed tightly against your back as he held you close.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” Din whispered in your ear, voice heavy with sleep. “Grogu woke up wanting a glass of water.” That was your reality. You had the love of your life back, and the green boy you and Din both adopted as your own was back in your lives. You, and the ones you loved, were nestled in your cozy home on Nevarro. Din’s lips pressed against your neck. “Riduur?” The new nickname a reminder of the peace that came with your reality. “Are you alright?”

The warmth of his skin against yours cast away the chill the memory of the darksaber brought. One of his bare, thick thighs slid between your legs until every part of you was tangled with every part of him. You let out a soft sigh of content and nodded. “I’ve never been better, baby.”

Din peppered soft kisses against your shoulders and you fell asleep safe in his arms.

.

mando'a translations:

Ni cuy’ nass ures gar: I am nothing without you. Ni cuy’ osi’yaim: I am a despicable person. Ni cuy’ hut’uun: I am a coward. Cin Vhetin: fresh start, clean slate (term indicating the erasing of a person's past when they become Mandalorian, and that they will only be judged by what they do from that point onwards)

.

[here is the dark ending]

[howtotrainabraincell]

Sweet head cannons about different Assassin's Creed characters

Henry Green: This man knows his flowers and does he ever spoil you with them. Whether they're given directly or left around for you to find, they always have sweet meanings and divulge his feelings for you in beautiful, colorful, little ways.

A pink rose once you two have known each for a time, symbolizing his vow of love and his desire to grow old with you. His hand was slightly shaking when he gifted it to you before he spoke gently to you in Punjabi, before telling you that he loves you and wishes to marry you in English. You both shed tears of happiness when you got engaged. It would be years later but when you learn enough Punjabi you would realize that he had told you "I wish to spend the rest of my life with you".

I have a feeling that he remembers the small things. If you two are out to meet a contact for information or out collecting intelligence for the Brotherhood, and you come across a store window where a beautiful cameo is on display, when you express appreciation for it or make a comment about how beautiful it is, he will remember that. Say this is in January....this man will surprise you with it months later on your birthday.

Malik Al Sayf: The thing about Malik kissing you if you are an assassin vs if you're not an assassin is this...he wants to, but it can be tricky. If you are an assassin, he'll kiss you on the cheek the same way all assassins greet each other and bid you 'Safety and Peace' as he would normally do with his fellow assassins, as he doesn't want to give any headway to any rumors about you two. But it's complicated. If he doesn't kiss you then questions will be asked (by Altair OFC who else?) but if he does kiss you, he has to be careful to not be too quick - to seem as though he has a crush and is flustered/he can't stand you (which is NOT true as you are literally the only person, he CAN stand lol). Then there's also the kissing you for too long bc he'll seem romantically interested (OH BOY IS HE) but he can't reveal that as much as he wants to.

Have a feeling the man is an overthinker haha.

If this is before Al Mualim that is - afterward he'll kiss you without a care and if Altair says anything he'll threaten to throw a knife at him lol. If you're not an assassin though, why would he have reason to kiss you??? But you better believe that he'll come out of nowhere when you're minding your own business, whisk you off somewhere where you two can't be seen and kiss you breathless.

Haytham Kenway: He seems like the kind of lover to be gone a lot, but he really tries to make up for it when he comes home. He understands that gifts and surprises don't make up for his absence - although each gift sent is silent sincere apology - but even if he's not there he'll provide for you.

I don't know why...but something tells me that the man gets matching things for you two. If you're wearing a blue dress, he's wearing a suit in the same color and you two always look very dashing whether apart or together.

You could wake up one morning expecting another day at home, when Haytham has instructed the household to make a nice to go breakfast for you and then for the groom to take you horse riding so you can get out of the house for a little bit. With Templar protection of course he's not taking any chances. He may also arrange a day in Boston for you to go shopping and stay in the city to unwind for a bit.  Expect gifts to be delivered when he's away. He'll have a dress made for you and have it sent a week after he leaves with a sweet letter alongside it as well. A flower delivery a few days later. He even surprised you with a spaniel puppy once.

[noirsfantasy]

𝕽𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊 | 𝖕𝖙. 2

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Jonathan Majors as Dame Anderson x Black!Plus-sized Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Smut

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 ➛ Creed

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛4.2k

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛After not hearing from Adonis for a week, you realize that, maybe it really was just a fling. So, you decide to get your mind off of him. And the one who just so happens to be there is Dame…

𝔞/𝔫 ➛Y'all thought the first one was wild? Well, get ready for this next one, hehe.

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 ➛ @cardi-bre91

I'm out with my girls on a Saturday night, turning up in a club. I was thrown ass on my girl, Ari, and my other girl, Liyah, is recording and hyping us up. We're all tipsy, enjoying ourselves as the music bumps loudly in the background. I don't usually go clubbing, but when I do, it's to get my mind off of something. And tonight I wanted to forget about my disappointment with men.

See, I'd recently been hooking up with this guy, Adonis Creed. He's a famous boxer, but that wasn't why I was interested in him. I truly enjoyed being around him. He gave me a touch of passion that made my body quiver. But all good things come to an end, don't they?

Enough about that. Tonight is all about getting drunk and forgetting about all my troubles. As I sway my hips against my friend, giggling as we dance the night away, I feel eyes on me. Men are staring, their gazes burning with desire. I smirk and ignore them, but I do enjoy feeling wanted. Under the glow of the neon lights, I dance the night away, as Liyah and Ari cheer me on.

Taking a break, we make our way back to our table, giggling and carefree.

"I can't believe you can move like that in that dress, girl." Liyah chuckles as she slides into the booth. I laugh as I slide in after Ari, laying my head on the table.

"Girl, ion even know, but that shit was movin'!" I reply.

"You shoulda seen all the guys you had drooling over you." Ari adds and I shake my head.

"Hey, I'm tryna get my mind off of guys tonight, remember?" I remind them and Liyah rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, we know." She takes the bottle from our table and downs the rest of it.

"Liyah, seriously?" Ari asks disapprovingly.

"What, girl? There was barely any left." Liyah raises her hands in defense. I giggle and stand up, a bit tipsy but still able to function.

"Chill out, I'll go get us some more drinks." I say, sliding out of the booth. "Be back before you know it."

"How 'bout I get you ladies another round?" I hear a deep, sexy voice rumble from behind me. As I turn around to see who it is, I come face to face with a tall, handsome man looking down at me with interest. I recognize him as the current heavyweight champion, Dame Anderson. I know he and Donnie had a bit of a falling out and that they were preparing for a title fight. I'd only ever heard about him through media, but we've never actually met. So I have no idea what he's doing here, talking to me.

"Holy shit, is that Damian Anderson?" Ari slurs in surprise and he smirks at her.

"The one and only, but y'all beautiful ladies can call me Dame." He winks at them and then his eyes shifts back to me. I have to stop myself from biting my lip at the sight of him. He's a total stud— ruggedly handsome with an intense gaze and a muscular frame. My friends look at me with anticipation, sensing the attraction between us.

"That's very kind of you, Dame," I purr, looking up into his eyes daringly. "But we can't have you paying for our drinks all night. We might end up owing you in return." Damian cracks a lopsided grin.

"That' doesn't sound all that bad to me." he says, leaning in a little closer, talking over the music. The scent of his cologne wafts over me as he continues to speak. "I'm pretty sure there are plenty of ways you could pay me back." He says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh yeah? How?" I ask with a bit of challenge, stepping closer to him. My friends giggle girlishly as they watch. A confident, yet sly grin spreads across Dame's face as he leans in to whisper a low, suggestive response in my ear.

"How 'bout a dance?" As he pulls back, his eyes linger on me for a moment longer before he glances at my friends and looks back at me. "Whaddaya say, sweetheart?"

"Sure, why not." I respond, not having to give it much thought as I move past him, towards the bar. "And it's Y/n, by the way." I correct him, looking him up and down. A flicker of surprise crosses his eyes as he bites his lip, turning to follow me.

"Y/n," He repeats, testing out the sound of my name on his tongue. Although, something about the look in his eyes says that he already knew what my name was. After we stop by the bar and order a round for my table, we head out to the dance floor, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the room.

As we get to the dancefloor, Dame pulls me close to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. Mine instinctively wrap around his neck and our bodies move in sync to the music. Our bodies mold together perfectly, his hard planes against my soft curves. As we dance, he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck.

"You know, you really caught my eye earlier, Y/n."

"Is that so?" I ask, gazing up at him as I grind my hips against his, causing a low groan to escape from him.

"Yeah, you did." Damian replies as his arms tighten around me for a moment before relaxing again. "I know you was fuckin' with Donnie. you've been on my radar." He smirks, leaning in a bit closer. I raise an eyebrow at him, somehow not surprised he's known about me.

"So what? You just been stalking me?" I inquire, causing Dame to chuckle at my response.

"Nah, just keeping an eye on who's eyeing my rival." He says, his eyes not leaving mine. "I had to know for myself what the fuss was about." I roll my eyes and turn away from him, feeling him press against my back as his hands migrate to my hips.

"It ain't like I'm his girl or anything," I say as I grind my body against his, feeling his grip on my hips tighten. His eyes follow the movement of my body, appreciating the way my curves fit against him.

"Good. Cuz I ain't really the sharing type" Damian smirks down at me.

"So, you only want me cuz he had me at some point?" I turn in his arms and he pulls me in closer.

"Oh, there's plenty of reasons why I'd want you, sweetheart." His eyes trail over my body for a moment before meeting mine again. "And if it happens to piss off my rival, that's just the icing on the cake."

His words send a spark of excitement through my body. Damian wants me and he isn't afraid to show it. This man, with his intense gaze and powerful presence, is hungry for me, and it makes my desire for him grow stronger. I can't help but bite my lip as his gaze pierces through me.

A part of me wants to at least be offended by him basically using me for his games. Although, the other part of me, the part that likes to live on the edge, doesn't give a fuck. I do what I want and who I want. And who I want right now is Dame. I smirk as I place my hands on his chest, pulling him close enough for me to whisper in his ear.

"You're gonna get me in trouble." A sly grin spreads across his face as I speak.

"Oh, I think you can handle it." He responds, his hands running up my sides, lightly touching my soft skin through my dress. "In fact, I bet part of you likes a little bit of trouble."

"Mm, you think you know me?" I ask teasingly as I lean in close to his face, looking at him through my lashes. He leans his face even closer, our lips nearly touching.

"I know enough." He admits with a smirk, his hands gliding over my hips. "And I know you like that I want you, even if it's to get under Baby Creed's skin." He chuckles softly. "But that doesn't mean I don't actually want you." His eyes lock on mine, a mixture of desire and challenge burning in his gaze. The world seems to slow around us as our bodies sway to the music.

"What exactly is it you're proposing?" Dame slides one hand around to the small of my back, using the other to gently tilt her chin toward me. Our faces are inches apart, and his eyes hold a mix of hunger and playfulness. A cocky smirk crosses his face as he answers my question with a low, gravelly voice.

"How 'bout you come find out, sweetheart?" He challenges. I decide not to waste any more time on words and I pull him towards me, crashing my lips into his. As our lips meet, it's as if a spark ignites between us. Dame responds to the kiss with a fierce intensity, our mouths moving against each other hungrily.

His large hands roam over my body, pulling me closer as he devours my lips. The sounds and lights of the club fade away as I lose myself in the moment, the taste and feel of him fueling my desire. My breath hitches as he bites my bottom lip, demanding more.

We break the kiss after what feels like both seconds and an eternity. I look into his eyes and they're dark with desire and a bit of challenge. Damian leans in close to my ear and whispers with a chuckle, "Let's get out of here. I want you all to myself."

I don't need any more convincing. Taking his hand, we make our way out of the club, waving to my girls as my heart pounds with anticipation. The night air is cool on our skin as we walk, the city lights illuminating our path. During the ride to his place, he keeps a firm, possessive grip on my thigh that sends tingles to my core. As we arrive at his luxury apartment building, Dame guides me inside, our bodies feeling electrified with desire.

As we step into the elevator and the doors close behind us, he gets a ravenous look in his eye. He presses me against the wall, my back coming in contact with the cold metal as his large frame presses against me. His mouth crashes into mine in a hungry kiss, his hands traveling to grasp either side of my ass. I ball my hands into the fabric of his shirt, moaning into the fiery kiss.

A low groan escapes Damian's lips as I pull him deeper into the kiss, our tongues tangling in a dance of desire. My body is on fire, the tension between us palpable. As the elevator reaches his floor, he reluctantly breaks the kiss, leading me into his penthouse apartment.

Our lips aren't parted for long as he lifts me up by my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, claiming my lips in another heated kiss. The feeling of being manhandled by this ruggedly handsome man sent sparks of excitement through my body. My heart races as he walks slowly towards the living room, his lips never leaving mine. He lays me down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, the dancing flames casting an erotic glow over the room.

Dame gazes down at me, chest heaving. "Damn, baby. You feel even better than I imagined." He growls, his fingers tracing my curves. His eyes are dark with lust as he takes in the sight of me sprawled out beneath him.

I run my hands up his muscular arms, biting my lip coyly. "Well, you ain't seen nothin' yet." I purr, rolling my hips against him. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he dips his head, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. His large hands slide up my thighs, bunching my dress up as he goes.

"I plan on seein' and feelin' a whole lot more." He murmurs against my skin, teeth grazing my sensitive neck. I shiver with anticipation, my hands moving to grip his shoulders as he continues his sensual assault.

Damian's fingers hook into the delicate fabric of my panties, his intent clear. I arch my back, silently begging him to take what he wants. This is what I came here for - to be devoured by this confident, powerful man. And I have a feeling he's more than ready to oblige.

His eyes darken with pure lust as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, slowly dragging them down my legs. "That's it, baby. Let me see all of you." He growls, voice thick with desire. His gaze rakes over my exposed skin hungrily, drinking in every inch.

With one swift motion, he tugs my panties all the way off, tossing them aside. His calloused palms glide up the silky smooth skin of my thighs, parting them slightly. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." He murmurs, pure want radiating from him. Lowering his head, his stubble-lined jaw grazes the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

"Dame..." I breathe, fingers threading into his short hair. He pauses, eyes flicking up to meet mine.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna take real good care of you." He promises in a low, raspy tone before burying his face between my legs. I gasp with pleasure, my back arching a bit as the feeling is more intense than anticipated.

Damian's expert tongue swirls and licks, sending electric shocks of pleasure through my body. I let out a desperate moan, my fingers tightening in his hair as I arch into his mouth.

"Oh fuck, Dame..." I gasp against his talented ministrations. He hums in approval, the vibrations sending tingles through my core. One of his large hands grips my thigh, keeping me spread open for his voracious appetite.

Just when I think I might come undone, he pulls back slightly, gazing up at me with lust-filled eyes. I whine as I gaze down at him.

"You taste so goddamn good, baby girl." He growls, voice rough with desire. Before I can respond, his mouth is on me again, creating a suction of pleasure around my clit.

My toes curl and my back arches as the coil of pleasure tightens within me. Dame's skilled tongue and lips push me higher and higher, the world fading away until all I can focus on is the mind-numbing sensations he's drawing from my body.

"Holy shit, holy shit!" I exclaim as I come undone faster than I intended, squirting forcefully into his mouth. I had expected to make a huge mess all over the carpet, but Dame laps up every last drop eagerly, savoring my sweet taste. His eyes flutter shut as he drinks me in, relishing the sounds of cries of ecstasy.

When I've finally ridden out the last waves of my climax, he pulls back slightly, gazing up at me through hooded eyes. His lips and beard glisten with my arousal, and he licks them slowly, not letting a single drop go to waste.

"You taste so fucking good, baby." He growls, his voice raspy. His large hands caress my trembling thighs as he repositions himself, settling between my legs. "And I'm just getting started."

With that, he leans back down, his face disappearing between my thighs once more. His tongue delves deep, stroking with a single-minded focus on my pleasure. One of his hands moves to my sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing in firm, sensual circles.

I squirm and squeal under his touch as he holds me in place, keeping me from fleeing. "You can't run, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you come again and again and again." His words only serve to fan the flames of my desire and I know I'm in for a long night.

I can't make an intelligible response as I'm overstimulated, my hips bucking and my nails digging into his harms, drawing blood.

"Damian-" I gasp, my mind clouded. "It's- It's too much!" I manage to say, my body no longer under my control. Dame pauses, his intense gaze shifting to one of mischief.

"Too much, huh?" He murmurs, his strong hands stilling my shaking thighs. A devilish smirk spreads across his lips. "Don't worry, babe. I know just how to take care of you." With that, he shifts his position, strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me up onto his lap. Our bodies are pressed flush together, his clothed length evident against my sensitive flesh. One hand tangles into my hair, tugging my hair back gently.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby," he whispers, his warm breath fanning across my neck. "Just let me take control." His lips find mine in a searing, consuming kiss, swallowing any protests I was about to make.

As the kiss deepens, his other hand caresses my body, igniting sparks of sensation. A guttural groan rembles ing Dame's chest as he feels my arousal soaking through the fabric of his pants. He breaks the fiery kiss, dark eyes smoldering with desire as he drinks in the sight of me flushed and panting in his arms.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet for me." He husks, one hand trailing down my side to grip my hip possessively. "I bet you're lacking to feel me inside you, aren't you?" His hips roll up, pressing his hardness against my slick heat.

Unable to form a coherent response, I whimper and nod desperately, my body betraying just how badly you crave his touch. Damian lets out a low, satisfied chuckle.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm gonna give you exactly what you need." With that, he pulls his shirt off, exposing his large, defined muscles. I don't get much time to take him in as he quickly unbuckles his pants and lifts me effortlessly, positioning me over his throbbing length. Slowly, torturously, he lowers me down, stretching and filling me in one smooth motion.

The feeling is indescribable, a perfect blend of pleasure and sweet, delicious pain. I let out a strangled moan, my nails sinking into his broad shoulders as I savor the sensation of being so completely and utterly full.

"Shitttt~ Take me just like that, baby. You're doing so good." Damian praises, his voice strained with restraint. His hands grip my hips, guiding my movements as I start to ride him with desperate, rhythmic motions. I whine with desire as I stretch around him. This feels different than with Adonis. Donnie could barely push all the way into me with how long his cock was. Although, Damian could fill me just right. Not only that, his girth was thicker. I look down, watching myself slide down onto his length as I let out a high pitched moan.

"Please, please, please~" I beg with desperation as I pull his chest against mine, my brows knit together in ecstasy. Dame groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me, baby." He growls, his hips snapping up to meet my motions. I yelp as he fills me, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. I can feel the coil of pleasure tightening once more, only spurring me on further. "Ride me like that, baby. I wanna feel you come undone on my cock." He whispers.

I press down and grind against him, his cock straining against my walls. Damian's eyes darken with pure lust as he works his cock deeper inside me, thrusting his hips up with more force. His hands slide down to where we're joined, his calloused fingers finding my sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs firm, sensual circles, eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure from my lips.

"Dame~" I Whimper, my walls fluttering around his impressive girth. "I'm so close..." He let's out a feral groan, his tempo increasing as he chases both of our releases.

"Come for me, baby." He demands, his teeth grazing my neck as his arms tighten around me. I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning my head back as I bounce on his dick, my tits finally falling free of my tight dress. Damian's mouth latches onto one pert nipple, sucking on it with an insatiable hunger.

I let out a strangled gry of pleasure, my nails raking down his back as the sensations threaten to overwhelm me. Dame's cock stretches and fills me perfectly, each movement sending electric shocks of bliss ricocheting through my body.

"I- I'm gonna~" I don't finish my sentence as I gasp loudly, my movements becoming frantic and erratic. He matches me, his thrusts becoming more deep and punishing as his mouth crashes into mine. My vision whites out as the most intense orgasm rips through me, my body convulsing in Dame's arms. He swallows my cries of ecstasy as he continues to move within me, drawing out every last aftershock of my release.

"That's my girl," he praises, his voice strained with his own impending climax. He continues to rub relentlessly at my clit and I can do nothing but become putty in his hands.

"Dame!" I squeal, biting my lip hard as I try to take it.

"That's right, baby. Say my name," He says lowly, his thrust becoming harder and random. He pulls me flush against him with each punishing thrust until the tension within him finally snaps. With a guttural groan, he spills himself deep inside me. His hips stutter and jerk as he rides out his climax, his grip on me bordering on bruising.

As I feel his warmth fill me, I can't help but sigh heavily, laying my head on his shoulder. Damian lets out a deep, contented sigh as I lay my head on his shoulder, our bodies still intimately joined. As I pant heavily, he gently brushes a stray lock of hair from my face.

"That's right, sweetheart. Just relax." He mumbles, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. HIs arms wrap around me, holding me close as the last tremors of our shared release subside.

"You did so good." Dame breathes with a note of awe in his voice. "I mean, I knew you'd feel incredible, but you've just... You're a goddess." He says as if he's just realizing now that he's met an angel in disquise.

"That was…" I start, unable to find the words. He chuckles warmly, pulling me close against his chest as his fingers trace soothing patterns along my spine. He softens inside me, pulling out slowly as he lays me down on the couch. Standing up, he goes leaves the livingroom briefly. My body relaxes as I lay on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

Damian returns with a warm, damp washcloth and gently cleans me up, his touch tender and caring - a stark contrast to his earlier intensity. As he wipes away the evidence of our shared intimacy, something stirs inside him.

He'd only known about me, because I was seen with Adonis. And, honestly, he only went after me to get back at him and throw Donnie off of his game. But seeing me like this, all he wants to do is take care of me and treat me right.

There was something so wrong about this. He'd slept with many women before and he had plenty of women still lined up that wanted him badly. After all, he's the champ. But as he gazes over me, my beautiful form on the edge of sleep, he can't help but feel something. He doesn't know what it is, but it's definitely not something he's felt with anyone else.

His hand comes up and brushes against the soft skin on my face. He pauses slightly as he wrestles with the unfamiliar emotions swirling within him. Something about me has reached past his carefully constructed walls, and Dame finds himself wanting - no, needing - more than a simple one night stand.

But he pushes those thoughts aside for now, focusing instead on savoring the moment. Once he's finished cleaning up our mess, he tosses the cloth aside and gathers me into his arms, cradling me against his broad chest. His fingertips trace feather-light patterns along my bare skin, sending pleasurable shivers through my body.

"I could hold you like this all night," he murmurs, dropping a soft kiss to the top of my head. "But I'm sure you're exhausted after that." I nod, my cheek pressed against his chest as I melt into him. The corner of his mouth turns up as he caresses my curves.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up and into a nice hot shower, hm? Then we can go to bed." He suggests, a loving look in his eye.

"Can we do that?" I ask, looking up at him wearily as my voice is barely above a whisper. His gaze softens as he looks down at me.

"Of course, baby." He scoops me up effortlessly, carrying me towards the bathroom as my head rests against his chest. The care and tenderness in his actions makes my heart flutter, and I can't help but wonder, where this is going to go. But I push that thought to the back of my mind as I just want to enjoy the moment.

[rainofaugustsith]

These lines right here sum up why I feel FFXIV has much more superior, nuanced writing than the Star Wars franchise.

Star Wars has you believe that one side is right regardless of what they do, and the other side is so evil, rotten to the core in every way that their entire people, planets. culture, language, religion - everything - should be permanently erased if they can't be converted to an entirely different culture, language, and creed (And don't get me started on how they conveniently made the Sith alphabet - again considered terrabad - virtually identical to the Hebrew alphabet). It's a very black and white, dogmatic view that IMHO hearkens back to the evangelical belief that only one point of view gets to go to heaven, and if you don't believe that, resist converting and want to hang onto your identity, you're going to hell. And you're certainly going to hell if you point out anything questionable the other side has done.

What you discover in FFXIV is nuance.

Every single job can be used for good; every single job can be used for evil. The heroes of one story are the villains of another. Every heroic gesture comes with a very real price. Nobody is beyond reproach, and that includes the player character. Actions one person takes for the greater good can lead to devastating damage for others.

The "get back to nature" white mages rule a city-state where xenophobia rules the day and the elementals run a reign of terror. White magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The black mages who congregate in a hall for the gods of the dead have an alliance among the marginalized tribes that spans all three city-states and saves Eorzea from calamity. Black magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The Dark Knights dedicate themselves to protecting those who need their help, and teach that one's dark side isn't something to vanquish, but something to hear, acknowledge and make peace with.

The Dragoon story shows that one's archenemy can become one's ally - or consume them.

The fearsome reapers who treat with the dead are actually helping the downtrodden.

The community working hard to keep the peace and move forward in a productive way are ex-pirates.

And so on. Nobody is expected to forgive those who have wronged them. Atonement is seen as something that involves work on the part of the perpetrator, not the participation of the survivors. But atonement is there and in several cases characters do better.

Any thoughts that any group in Eorzea needs to be eliminated are eventually dispelled completely. Marginalization of various groups is something that eventually does need to be answered for, and is presented as a problem, not a necessity. When Eorzea finally marches on their nemesis, the Garlean Empire, it is on an aid mission, not conquest. There are no attempts to convert. Just to help.

Both Garlemald in Endwalker and Ziost in SWTOR deal with the issue of murderous possessed people. In SWTOR, the Republic - remember, our "good guys" - response with Saresh is to send an invading army to increase the hurt. In FFXIV, the Alliance's response is to send an army to help, with Scions striking out into the snow and into the smoldering ruins to rescue anyone they can.

If you asked me if I would live anywhere in a Star Wars universe, it would be an emphatic HELL NO. But FFXIV? I feel like they are at least striving for better, with common ground and peaceful co-existence, and everything is nuanced.

[lux-ishii]

Storytelling Analysis (I guess?) I shared this thought with Dinbo Server but thought why not elaborate further? Personally, I think this frame is the moment Bo-Katan realized Din is her ride-or-die (or even a crush). They were specifically arguing about going to the mines, where her stance was that it was just a waste of time and they should get back. However, Din insists on going there without her. What Bo does? A total 180 turn saying she will take him there.

So Bo gives him a trip not only to the mines but also to her own past as a Mandalorian Princess. Specifically mentioning her father, for the first time ever, something she hasn't done in The Clone Wars or even Rebels, where she has been treated with all the honors her Clan once had, as they referred to her "Lady Bo-Katan Kryze" when brief history facts were dropped at unaware Ezra.

DO YOU SEE WHO LOOKS AT HER WHEN SHE MENTIONS HER FATHER LOOKING AT HER PROUDLY? All I'm gonna say is that Cinematic Design regarding storytelling this season is INSANE. Each frame, move, pose, and EVERYTHING has its purpose in the further symbolism of how things develop.

Later in this scene, Bo is really sarcastic about the whole ceremony referring to it as "Such a heart-warming spectacle", which Din mistakenly takes as her mocking her father.

We all know what happens next, but something always felt odd about it to me.

The thing is... Bo barely said anything, just that he made her take The Creed she later broke. So where does the "interesting" part comes from? Of course, Din might be curious to meet someone who ruled Mandalore in its glory, but I think the root of it goes back to the Mandalorian culture, and what Din himself experiences:

You see, the best measure to judge Bo's father is to look at her. And it's safe to say Din IS impressed by her, not only in skills but also with her personality. If he hated her and didn't care about her he would never take her to his covert. In a recent episode, they highlighted how secretive they are about their place, it was almost sacred not to reveal the location. Yet he took her there, despite her different beliefs.

So I think Din is saying that, because he admires Bo as a warrior, and she is the result of how her father raised her. It means her father was a great person Din himself could learn from. It's quite important knowing, that Din is the father to Grogu now, so how he will raise him, depends on who Grogu will become. Bo later revealed even more admiration for her father, calling him great. (Or even comparing Din to him when Grogu had his first fight.) THIS IS NOT A COINCIDENCE, BELIEVE ME.

Din goes as far as showing the biggest form of respect he knows to this man who not only raised someone like Bo, but also died like a warrior.

However, the whole thing leaves Bo-Katan... puzzled?

She really doesn't know what to say, how to respond, until Din leaves her behind with Grogu.

OK HEAR ME OUT

I know she kinda was harsh to Grogu here, BUT it's the same kind of response someone would say if they were caught blushing. You see, I think Bo's (and maybe Din's too) emotions were SO strong Grogu could feel them in the force. He knows what's going on, and Bo was caught red-handed. Now look at this:

"They loved watching the princess recite the Mandalorian tenets as her father looked on proudly." Bo definitely was touched by his devotion to the creed. It sparked something in her, and she did exchange a proud look towards Din with Grogu. The devil is in the details, Bo was now in the position her father once was, which we know of because of her previous confession. It all was in a way foreshadowed to us.

Leter, without thinking Bo jumps to save Din's life again, which led her to discover a mythosaur. This is only my opinion, but I do think the storytelling between them is written really well this season, and it may be the best relationship build-up in Star Wars live-action media in years depending on how they will go with it later.

Going as far as doing psychological parallels between Din and Bo's father, something we as humans do and look for unsubcounciouslly in our romantic interests (the reason why Daddy Issues are such a big problem if the father figure was absent/bad) means that now everything matters like I said in the beginning. Frames, moves, words... it's all part of the bigger picture. The Mandalorian Writers really do build up whatever is happening between them. It's not out of the bat, I've rewatched Season 2 to see how Bo and Din interacted there, and the natural progression of turning distrust to trust was there. They have both been thru a lot, and it really feels like together, they will be stronger.

[maidstew]

mentors as folklore lyrics to celebrate the anniversary of its release

cardigan - palmyra monty

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

the last great american dynasty - arachne crane

There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen / I had a marvelous time ruining everything

exile - persephone price

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

my tears ricochet - sejanus plinth

You wear the same jewels that I gave you / As you bury me

mirrorball - dennis fling

I'm still on that tightrope / I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me / And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why / I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try

seven - iphigenia moss

And I've been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / Your dad is always mad and that must be why

august - vipsania sickle

But I can see us lost in the memory / August slipped away into a moment in time / 'Cause it was never mine

this is me trying - clemensia dovecote

They told me all of my cages were mental / So I got wasted like all my potential / And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad / I have a lot of regrets about that / I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere / Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here

illicit affairs - felix ravinstill

And you wanna scream / Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" / Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me / You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else

invisible string - hilarius heavensbee

And isn't it just so pretty to think / All along there was some / Invisible string / Tying you to me?

mad woman - livia cardew

And there's nothing like a mad woman / What a shame she went mad / No one likes a mad woman / You made her like that

epiphany - diana ring

Only twenty minutes to sleep / But you dream of some epiphany / Just one single glimpse of relief / To make some sense of what you've seen

betty - festus creed

But if I just showed up at your party / Would you have me? Would you want me? / Would you tell me to go fuck myself / Or lead me to the garden?

peace - apollo ring

All these people think love's for show / But I would die for you in secret

hoax - pup harrington

Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason"

[teecupangel]

Bayek meeting Desmond?

Like, Desmond gets transported back to Egyptian times and becomes a merchant or protector of some small town, and Bayek comes waltzing through.

They meet and Desmond (who may be a bit thick) doesn't connect the Hidden Ones/Assassin/Medjay relationship. And Bayek just sees this guy who might be Greek and obviously isn't Egyptian protecting this small Egyptian town. Chaos ensues.

Romance may bloom?

It would be possible for Desmond to not put two and two together because he’s never even heard of the Hidden Ones and only saw Amunet’s statue as a ‘proto-Assassin’.

There’s also this sense of loyalty he feels towards the ‘Assassin Brotherhood’ as a title because of his Bleed of Altaïr.

As far as he knows, their Creed started with the Brotherhood.

And the Hidden Ones do their best to stay out of sight after what had happened before in Sinai.

It also helps that the small town he decided to dig his roots in was an out of the way peaceful town.

They rarely get visitors and, even when they do, those people turn out to either be a relative of one or more of the townspeople or a traveler who got lost.

Desmond got a small house with a small plot of land that can be converted to farmland by saving the son of the village chief who had been chased by a pack of wild animals and had to climb a tree in fear.

Desmond had just been passing by, debating if he should try his luck in going to what would later be called Levant or to just… stop somewhere and try to build a life there.

He was so tired.

So very tired.

And the people of the town had been kind to him. They didn’t ask why he was traveling all by himself.

They even stopped asking about his past after Desmond told them it was a ‘not a kind one’.

And now, here he was…

Working on his farm using the knowledge he had from the small farm that the Farm had, the books Altaïr and Ezio had read during their lifetime about agriculture and the tips and suggestions from his neighbors and fellow townspeople.

And one day…

He appears.

Bayek of Siwa.

He calls himself a traveler.

A few drinks later and he admits to being the last Medjay, traveling the lands to ensure its peace and to help those who need a hand.

Desmond had simply been in the village’s house with most of the men because they wished to present a united front in front of a traveler armed to the teeth.

Desmond saw his missing ring finger and thought of it as a coincidence.

Then…

Their paths intersect once more while Desmond was out in the wilderness near the town, bow in hand and quiver filled with arrows to hunt.

They met by accident and Bayek admits that he heard there were ruins nearby.

Desmond heard the tale, of course.

An ancient city, deep underground, holding the ground from caving in and burying everything with strong stable pillars too many to count.

Desmond has heard of the tales.

And he knew the name.

To be more exact…

His Bleed of Altaïr knew of the name…

Imar.

The fabled City of Pillars.

He also knows that this city was supposed to be somewhere in Levant or near Levant, not here in Egypt.

The tale the villagers would tell their children was that it wasn’t a city.

It was an underground road that would lead to the fabled city.

Desmond never saw anything, not even his Eagle Vision could find anything of interest in this town or anywhere nearby.

The most interesting thing his Eagle Vision had pinged was the gold in the village chief’s house and that was actually the chest where he stored the funds he would use to maintain the towns’ buildings and roads.

But if this man believes he can find that city then Desmond felt the need to follow him.

Because if there really was an underground city or a road that would lead to it nearby?

That could only mean…

There was an Isu facility nearby.

… and perhaps a POE as well.

.

.

.

Cue a DLC-length storyline of Bayek looking for an underground city with a mysterious young man who seems to embody the core principles of a Hidden One.

[sapphosremains]

Thoughts on Calvinism?

This is so interesting bc the majority of posts about Calvinism on here have focused on its beliefs about predestination, so I want to try and buck that. As with everything on this blog you'll get a weird mix of personal religion and academic theology, so do shout if you only wanted one or the other and I'll try again! Another disclaimer: I have no formal reading or research on Calvinism - denominational theology isn't really my area, so anything in here is personal opinion and from brief research, but no real academic reading. I'll get round to it, but it's not the top of my list right now!

Starting with the unified idea against the Real Presence, with Calvinism teaching that the Eucharist is simply a reminder of Christ's sacrifice, personally I just can't agree. I am still working out where I am on trans/consubstantiation, but I do completely believe in the idea of the Real Presence, and reject a memorialist theology. To me, it just doesn't work that the Eucharist can be a sacrament yet only a reminder and a memorial (although to be fair, Calvin's alternate view of what a sacrament is dodges this issue, but I can't agree with it so still personally doesn't work).

Now, from what I've read, Calvinism seems pretty on the side of sola scriptura, which again as an anglocatholic I am not. I think there's a reason why Revelation is addressed to the churches, and why Jesus devoted so much time to His disciples. Do I think that the Church is possibly more fallible than scripture? Yes, that's why I'm not RC, but I think the Church and community is of utmost importance, and understanding of Christianity and rule of faith is reliant on the Church. Furthermore, I think that again there's a reason why the Pope is the Pope and I'm not, and the Archbishop of Canterbury is and I'm not! Not that I would suggest that Calvinists reject this idea, just that I think there is a chain of authority and expertise in the Church for a reason, and their view ought to carry more weight than mine, despite us both reading the same scripture.

Carrying on with this Church idea, despite what I've just said, I'm not sure about the idea of God's only communication being through Christ. I'll come onto other reasons, but the first one that landed concretely with me was the idea that the preaching of ministers about God is the Word of God. Mmmm. Not sure. I think it's quite a vain idea to suggest that humans, ordained or not, let alone a massive group of them all preaching different things can all be speaking the word of God. Even just think of a minister you know who's said something slightly off, or a denomination that is far off every other, or not to generalise but if you've ever watched a mega-church service... can they all be the Word of God? Makes me feel a bit icky. The other stuff about Christ and salvation being the only two methods of God's self-revelation I feel like I don't know enough theology about to write about, but my instinct is against.

Covenant theology to me just felt like another framework, and I'm not keen on it. So far what I've read of Calvinism just seems to me like it tries to restrict a divine and infinite being into finite and defined ways of working with humans, and I'm not super keen.

Social trinitarianism? Nuh uh. I just, no. Not sure what to say, I'm just a Nicene creed girly.

Now, getting into the stuff we see more on here, starting with total depravity. This one makes me sad. There was a really good post on here which I've just been looking for (similar to this post by @hymnsofheresy) and I wish I could find it but essentially just a different view of original sin, seeing it more as meaning that we cannot be perfect, and to prevent us being perfectionists because we are in a world which cannot let us be perfect. I really like this view. The Calvinist idea of total depravity meaning that we are displeasing to God, 'defiled and polluted' in his sight, and makes us 'naturally hateful to God' is just like what? God loves us. Yes, He hates sin, and sin is irrevocably linked to the person, but I can't believe that He hates us and finds us displeasing, defiled, and polluted from the minute we are conceived.

Now, predestination. Similarly to the original sin, I just think this is such a nihilist theology. I think if I believed that there was a chance that before I had a chance to have faith, or do good works, I was condemned to hell, no matter what I did, I would struggle to have faith. Why would one want to believe in a God if you think that He could have condemned you to hell before your existence, based on no characteristic of your own?

On a more flippant note (ha), I couldn't be Calvinist because I love music, and as cool as a cappella is, it definitely couldn't be my whole liturgical life (also I'm an organist!).

Hope this was somewhat interesting, and I hope not horrifically uniformed. What are your thoughts?