Can I Ask About Two Things? Blue Mando-Paz Feels And The Touch Barrier? Feel Free To Only Answer One!

Can I ask about two things? Blue Mando-Paz Feels and The Touch Barrier? Feel free to only answer one! This is @newpathwrites btw.

Hekk yeah I'll answer both, @newpathwrites!!! Let's goooo~

The Touch Barrier | Ver. 1 under the cut

Ah my lovely fic headcanons with no real name... The Google Doc I have my drabbles about Paz Viszla are on just a funny sheet called quite literally Blue Mando Paz Feels. We had so little Paz content at the time I began writing these in 2019, but when I tell you my mind went wild...

Big blue boi Mando had my heart from the get go, and I quickly envisioned a nameless little OC (that I have yet to get onto paper). I paired him with a gentle soul who has a heart bigger than her head, and shakes the moment a gun is put into her hands-- but I think that brand of softness may be just what he needed in this harsh lonely world Mandalorians are so used to. He's big, he's blue, and it's cuffing season.. all I gotta say on that.

Now that I've seen more of Viszla in Season 3 I HAVE NEW SOURCE MATERIAL MUAHAHAHA but (ach-hem) I really do think the newest episodes helped me figure out his 'voice' so I might pick these little stories back up!

//psst my favorite of these is one where oc/reader's helping him clean up after a yucky, muggy recon mission, seeing him scrub himself really hard and she fusses over how rough he's being-even with himself. I go into how to care for your beskar, some Din Djarin rivalry-ish backstory, and how SWEET Paz can be when he's treated gently... Perhaps I'll flesh this one out if there's interest?

But also... my beloved:

I answered a bit on my different directions on The Touch Barrier here... But I imagine you'll be most interested in the first iteration of it, so here's a snippet!!

"Are we ok?"

The helmet straightened up, fixed to you again from its nervous evasion. "What?"

"You look like a caged lothcat right now.." you shared, unable to hold back a smile. "And here I thought we were on hugging terms~"

Inside the beskar suit, Mando’s neck flared with heat. And before he could silence himself,

"..we are?"

You hummed noncommittally- betraying your whole-hearted desire.

"I hoped so. At least I thought we might be, based on how you boarded the other day. Unless you didn't necessarily want me there. After all, I know you were kinda having a hard time staying upright."

Only then did Mando's beskar curves slide more naturally into place. No longer bolted to the wall but angled catty corner to you. 

He recalled the 'hug' referenced, but he also remembered how he'd cupped your head to him after you'd brought him up to the cockpit-- that one was for comfort. Not stability.

"I was. But that's not why I .."

–but before he fully finished his train of thought, the baby in the hold let out a frustrated garble of calls as a rolling ball clinked out of his reach. Each plunk echoed down the rungs until it rolled off to parts unknown. You snorted, wondering what on earth he was getting into up there.

"Gosh, that little guy. Sorry, what were you saying?" you recentered from your distraction.

With a lag in his shoulders, the Mandalorian thought the truth to be the best answer. But still wanting to answer to the Child, he nodded his head on for you to continue down to the hull, and he'd follow,

"I was just going to say," he answered, "I didn't do that because I couldn't stand on my own. i-i mean I couldn't, true, but the thing is, I 'wanted to'..." 

His heart was thundering, some cracks in his words were audible,

"I was bleeding out all over the floor. But really, l I could think of was just how grateful I was that you hadn't been hurt. You were safe, and seeing you? I was relieved."

Now side by side in the open air cargo space you smiled, feeling a bit like the silly girls in the holonovels when they pushed their hair behind their ears.

"Well... For one, I'm glad you're not bleeding all over the floor."

That earned you a breathy laugh, "Thank you."

"And for two, I'm- glad you wanted to. Because I may or may not have been wanting to, myself.." 

Mando paused in his strides. which you matched. Even though you were unable to read his expression, you gave a satisfied little smile with your answer, 

"So… it sounds like we're on the same page."

"Sounds like we are."

The Child whined again, making both tip their head off to the side, perfectly in sync.

"I can go get him-- meet you back up top?"

"Okay." He nodded and they split.

Back in the cockpit, you wrangled the bouncing little potato sack. Mando turned when you came in, hearing you corral the kid trying to jump out of your arms to get a better view from his pram.

"Ok ok kiddo, good grief– your seat's but going anywhere!" You shrilled. Planted into his blankets, he sat back in content, swaying side to side, taking in the stars and clusters they were passing in awe.

"Handful?"

"More like tryin'a be a hand-empty, the little wiggle worm." you sassed. His playfighting was all in good fun.

The Mandalorian spun to meet you. First and foremost, you know he'd set the locks on the overhead panels on the side wall, but then he surprised you when he faced fully after you readjusted your clothes the kid had tugged every which way.

"You're good with him. He seems happy to have someone else around." He complimented, stepping into your space. 

Then- finally- meeting your sparkling eyes with all their silent anticipation of his arms, he wrapped around you to pull you in. You locked him in by the waist. 

Then, slightly softer, he nearly whispered, "and.. he's not the only one."

Smushed slightly into his flight suit padding above his chest plate, you smiled. The pats you gave him back passed assurance and as much comfort as you could manage in this relatively tiny hunk of metal in the vast black dust of space. 

"Feeling's mutual, hon."

Hope you liked it!! More of this may come one day...

...dangit.. now I wanna finish this. (le sigh)

Someone please explain to me why I never want to write when I ACTUALLY HAVE TIME to write

Even darkness must pass.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY 2001-2003 | dir. Peter Jackson

Eyes truly are the windows to the soul 🥰🥰🥰🥰

The Color of My One’s Eyes

Summary: A soulmate au, where Thorin and Rowena find each other through the unusual color of each other’s eyes. A pre-Quest of Erebor au.

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield/ OFC Rowena

Rating: Teen

Warning: a tiny bit sensual, also some misogyny ( not from Thorin; he’s too gentlemanly).

Content: pre-Quest, Blacksmith Thorin, light angst, happy ending, Dwarven Ones, soulmates.

Word count: 1.9k words

If you wish to be added/ removed from my tag list, please let me know. Thank you.

It was with some hesitation when Rowena left her father's house that early afternoon. As long as she didn't meet anyone at the smithy, she was fine. Except for maybe his newest smith, a Dwarf; the few he'd hired before tended to mind their own business. They were surprisingly polite to her sometimes. Just as well; they didn't know about her condition, nor care to, unlike the people in her village, especially that smith who'd worked for her father up until three days ago.

He'd told her she'd never wed because she was strange, and would've gone on with his taunts, but the fierce Dwarf who'd happened by had given him such a death glare that he'd slunk away swiftly. Her father had dismissed the smith after that, but Rowena was still saddened over the incident and almost too afraid to do her usual daily chore; taking food down for the smith.

"He was probably right too; I'm strange because I can't see deep blue, not until I find my soulmate by that color of his eyes," she thought miserably, "but he's not here in my village. Why was I cursed with that way of finding him?"

At least the Dwarf, whose hammer blows fell so hard and heavy now as she approached, wouldn't judge her, since he didn't know, nor would care to. She'd just pop in, leave the basket of lunch, and go, and resign herself to her usual life with her parents.

Another forge, another day's work, and another day's worth of suspicions and unkind words from Men, Thorin thought as he set up his tools to work. While the race of Men admired Dwarven crafts and skills, they were all too often unkind and cruel, and Thorin was naturally suspicious of them, one and all. Or the men specifically; they weren't good to their women at all.

He still remembered Dwalin sharing how he'd stared down and frightened a man who'd taunted a young woman, here in this very village. How they could be so cruel to such precious creatures was more than Thorin could understand. No Dwarf would ever treat a Dwarrowdam in such a manner. And Thorin knew well he'd never treat his One in such a fashion- assuming he ever did find his One. Her eyes would be emerald green ( he saw that color as gray), and she certainly wasn't among the Dwarves who lived near his home.

Well, he'd do his week's work, collect his coppers, and head back to his home, away from these heartless Men. Dis would be happy he'd found something; her boys were growing rapidly and needed food and clothing. He had no time at all to worry about his One.

Shedding his tunic, Thorin took up the tongs, and soon his strong hammer falls rang throughout the smithy as he shaped the glowing piece of metal into a pickaxe head.

Rowena entered the smithy, fully intending to leave the basket and go, but the hammer's ringing blows were so strong and loud she had to stop a moment and watch the Dwarven smith at his labor, if only for a moment. Surely he wouldn't know- oh!

He was shaping a pickaxe head with strong yet precise blows on the anvil, but what really caught Rowena's eyes was him; he was stripped to the waist and gloriously muscular. Black designs of a raven and some strange runes were inked across his skin. Rowena couldn't take her eyes off his rippling biceps, back, and chest muscles as he moved around with his tools; they did something to her, igniting a strange, unfamiliar warmth in her belly, and a blush across her cheeks. She had to step closer...

It was precisely in that moment Thorin chose to look up from his labors. He started when his eye landed upon a young woman with blooming cheeks practically opposite him. How long had she been watching him, he wondered.

Rowena jumped when his startled eyes met hers; she hadn't expected those keen eyes to catch her gawking like a lewd girl as he labored, half clad, at her father's forge. Eru, she was being lewd. And her father would be so angry with her for that.

"Sir, I'm- I'm very sorry-" she stammered, trying to look everywhere else, but at him. In vain; his glorious naked chest was branded deeply into her memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." Thorin's cheeks were blooming too as he reached for his tunic. He hadn't expected company, from a daughter of Man, no less, to come walking in. And, Mahal, she'd caught him half naked too! Why that suddenly made him feel flustered, he didn't know.

"I'm decent," he said briefly, tugging his tunic hem sharply. He hoped she wouldn't tell his employer; the last thing he needed was to be dismissed for being half naked in front of a respectable woman.

The woman turned her face to look at him, her cheeks still glowing with shame.

"I didn't mean to gawk- don't tell my father- the man who hired you- please!" She sounded almost frightened. "He always told me that unwed women shouldn't look at unclad men!"

Now that he knew that she was more worried about getting in trouble than he was, Thorin felt a rush of relief and sympathy. "You have my word of honor; I will say nothing to your father." He caught her eye. "I usually don't strip naked when I work, but it got too warm for even a Dwarf in here."

Rowena nodded, relief flowing through her, as she held Thorin's steady gaze. Eru, her father would've been so angry if he'd known. "I am Rowena, daughter of Hal," she said simply.

"I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain." Thorin spoke cautiously, ever wary of sharing his royal titles among strangers.

"I am pleased-" Rowena stopped. She blinked furiously, telling herself she wasn't seeing things. But somehow, Thorin's eyes weren't gray anymore. If anything, they were a beautiful color; deep blue with a silvery cast, and they complimented his long dark lashes beautifully. He was so- Rowena stopped her thoughts. He isn't- how did that even happen?

"Rowena-" Thorin stopped, frowning. He could've sworn Rowena's eyes were gray a short while ago. Right now, they were emerald green, the prettiest shade of green he'd ever seen, and the color made her skin glow. Mahal, she was beautiful- Thorin stopped his thoughts fiercely. Why am I thinking that of a daughter of Man?

"Thorin, what- how? I couldn't see that particular shade of blue until just now. I- I don't even know what to say." A feeling of dread and rejection gripped Rowena; what if Thorin was angry about her being his soulmate? It couldn't be denied; she couldn't see deep blue until the moment she'd looked into his eyes, and Eru bless her, her soulmate had beautiful eyes.

"I don't know." Thorin was baffled. "I didn't know what emerald green looked like, until you came in. I'd always known that my One would have eyes of that color. I didn't expect to meet her here, among Men." Frankly, he wasn't sure how to explain his conflict; he'd always been suspicious of Men and their ways. And now his One was of the race of Men. Thorin wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Rowena's heart sank. He didn't want her clearly; she was of a race he didn't seem to like, possibly for serious reasons of his own, but it still hurt. She turned her head away slowly; best he didn't see her cry.

"Rowena!" Remorse stricken, Thorin was beside her swiftly. Durin forgive him, he'd hurt his One by judging her along with the unkind members of her people. "I didn't mean to be so harsh."

"Thorin-" Rowena let him draw her close; she put her arms around his broad shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair. It was thick, but so soft in her hands. And if she was still crying, it was with joy this time as Thorin pulled her closer. He did want her. "Thorin, I forgive you. It's that- I've never been treated kindly for being different. The smith before you- he was so mean to me one day, and blessed be that Dwarf who frightened him."

This was interesting. "Was he a fierce looking Dwarf, with tattoos on his hands?" Thorin asked intently.

"Why, er, yes. And fierce eyes too. He did frighten me a little. You know him?" Rowena lifted her head to look at him. Thorin chuckled grimly. "He is Dwalin son of Fundin, my cousin and guardsman. He was looking for work here too, which he couldn't find, and he told me about frightening a Man for taunting a young Woman." His blue eyes grew fierce for a moment as he stroked Rowena's tear streaks with his thumbs. "Women are scarce in my race; we protect and cherish them. You would've never been subjected to such treatment had you lived among my people, Rowena daughter of Hal. This Man will regret it yet."

"Thorin, please don't get into trouble on my account. It's in the past now." Rowena nuzzled into Thorin's palms with a soft moan; she quite loved his large, hard hands, and the thought of them touching her sent a rush of warmth through her.

Her reaction wasn't missed; Thorin's eyes suddenly darkened as he looked into hers. Then he was drawing her face closer to his; Rowena's hands threaded into his hair to clasp his nape, drawing a sensual rumble from him. "Rowena," he growled.

"Thorin," she whispered breathily, just before their lips met.

Their kiss was soft, gentle as Thorin carefully explored Rowena's mouth; his beard was prickly but soft against her skin. Rowena hummed contentedly, soaring amid the joy of finding her soulmate and the realization that she loved him, wanted him.

Then he was nipping her lip, asking entrance; Rowena parted her lips, and moaned when their tongues met, entangling together in a heated kiss that grew deeper. Her legs quivered from the forced bending over, and Rowena knelt down. Thorin gripped her waist, drawing her closer with one hand while his other hand tenderly held her nape.

They parted, panting and starved for air, but Thorin didn't release Rowena, not just yet. He nuzzled against her, savoring the softness of her neck, cheek, and form; she wasn't as hard and broad as a Dwarrowdam, but she was his One and his soulmate, and all the more beautiful. "Rowena," he murmured against her hair, "Rowena, my love, my Amrâlimê."

"What does it mean, Thorin?" Rowena was certain it was something lovely, judging from his tender tone.

"It means my beloved, in the language of my people," Thorin drew back to gaze at her tenderly, "and you're my beloved, Rowena. I was wrong to judge you by the actions of a few of your race." He looked serious then. "Not many have been kind to my people and I in our wanderings."

There was a long, sad tale behind those serious eyes, Rowena thought. "I'm sorry for how they've treated you," she said simply.

"Don't be, you're not like them." Thorin leaned in to nuzzle her nose. Rowena's eyes fluttered shut as she rested her brow against his forehead; stray strands of hair tickled her skin, sending pleasant little thrills flitting through her.

"Rowena?" She opened her eyes to find herself gazing into twin lakes of deep blue framed with long black lashes. Thorin's soft gaze warmed her to the core.

"Thorin?" Rowena whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment with a louder tone.

"I love you, Rowena daughter of Hal."

Nothing was brighter than the joy that shone in Rowena's eyes. "Thorin," she murmured, "I love you too."

Then they melted together as their lips met in another kiss; a tender, sweet kiss that spoke far more than they ever could.

Tag list: @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @sotwk @glassgulls @heilith @court-jobi @knittastically @middleearthpixie @emmyspov

Ok, Thorin, ya makin' me swoon again...

True Courage.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual harassment, fluff, mutual pining

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Thorin takes a stand for you when a lecherous man won't take no for an answer and keeps bothering you." Requested by @sweetestgbye (Love you, hun!!)

This fic touches on a bit of a nerve, as something similar happened to me a few weeks ago when travelling home; so why not put my experience to a good use and make a fic out of it? However, I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Your stomach lurched and you recoiled as the man took your hand in his. "You are very beautiful," he grinned, staring at you.

It had started off with you being polite, listening to the man talk about his life, and eventually his wife. Then he started nudging closer, his body almost right upon you. You had looked around for any sign of someone who may help you escape. But all the residents of Lake-town were too busy in their own conversations or inebriated. The Company seemed to have disappeared and you could not see anyone you recognised in the sea of heads swarming around you in the Master's main hall.

The man kept trying to catch your gaze as you averted it elsewhere, completely sickened by him. His continued chattering away, but your mind was ablaze, contemplating an escape. The feeling of his hand on you made you feel dirty, defiled.

Across the room and Thorin had a clear view of you. A man who looked easily old enough to be your father was sat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. Thorin grit his teeth and moved through the crowd toward you, having to shove a few bodies away.

"How about a kiss?" the man asked you, his breath almost upon you.

You shoved his hand away and shifted further out of your seat.

"How dare you!" an angry voice came. "You will leave her, unless you wish to be spitting your teeth out upon the floor."

"Thorin?" you whispered, looking up. His face was livid and fierce. You had never seen Thorin so fired up; his eyes were dark and his teeth were bared.

In your embarrassment, you got up and dashed from the scene. Tears were welling in your eyes as you raced out into the cold air outside. Your whole body was shaking, and sobs suddenly overcame you, uncontrollable. It may have been almost winter with a flurry of snow on the air, but you still felt as though your whole body was on fire. Anxiety and adrenaline raged through your veins. The fight or flight response had been activated, only a little too late. It would have aided you better when you were sat with the hideous man.

"Are you alright?" a voice came from behind.

Jumping, you turned around to see Thorin behind you. Instantly you threw yourself at him, finally feeling safe. "I'm sorry," you sobbed on him.

"Shhh," he cooed into ear, brushing his fingers through your hair. "You are safe." Thorin's heart thundered in his chest, both at the feel of you in his arms, but also at the feeling of you shaking. His chest was full of both love and anger, intense and all consuming. How dare someone touch you against your will. How dare someone reduce you to a sobbing mess like this!

You looked up at Thorin, his arms still around you. You were safe here against him. Looking at his face, his expression soft but also full of concern, began to wash away the edge of your fear. It re-formed your crumbled composure, mending the pieces of a broken confidence.

Thorin cupped your cheek and his thumb dried the tears which were glistening on your reddened skin. "No one will harm you, I promise."

Ever since first meeting Thorin six months previously, at the beginning of the quest to re-take Erebor, and you trusted him. There was something in his eyes; a steadfast resolve and a deep-seated sense of honour.

Thorin couldn't take his eyes from your gaze. Having your skin against his made his breath hitch. You were beautiful, and since the moment he met you, he felt as if you were a special, one of a kind flower which he didn't dare touch. He hadn't dared touch out of a fear of offending you. But now that need to be in contact with you was too much. Cradling you had made his heart swell.

Feeling Thorin's touch was something you had imagined far too many times, and now that it was a reality, it was a softer touch than any fantasy had ever allowed you to experience. However, the more he gazed at you, shame entered your heart. "I'm sorry that I'm not brave like you."

"No..." Thorin began.

Your head turned to the side, twisting from his touch.

"No..." he whispered again, sadly. "Never say that."

Tears welled again. "I'm a coward. I froze. I'm ashamed."

"Never be ashamed," Thorin told you, his voice somehow deeper. "Do you understand me? You have nothing to be ashamed of. Absolutely nothing!" Anger dripped from his tone. "He violated your intimate space. No one has the right to do that. No one. And freezing is natural."

"I've never seen you freeze."

"Do not compare yourself to me. My reactions are learned, after years of experience."

If there was one thing that Thorin had always been drawn to, and it was your innocence. In your innocence of being polite and kind, you had entertained the lecherous man for a short while. Thorin, on the other hand, was hardened off to a polite and kind demeanour. You were open to people, welcoming. Thorin was shut off. Now, who was the brave one?

"Bravery isn't only found in battles," Thorin told you, stepping back from you. "It's seen in allowing yourself to be vulnerable and opening your heart to others. You have a courage that I could only dream to have, dear one. I walk into battle, ready to face the pain of a sword in my flesh. But you are ready to face the pain of a broken heart through being vulnerable in someone else's sight. That is true courage."

"That's not courage. That's just being too trusting and being ridiculous," you hissed.

Thorin smiled and then took your hand, kissing it. "You dare to trust. You have no idea how courageous that is. I wish I had a heart such as yours."

A wave of anticipation washed over you and you sighed. "In that case, this is me being brave. You do not need to wish for a heart such as mine, as you already have it. You've always had my heart, Thorin."

Thorin exhaled loudly, smiling, and cupped your cheek again. Then took your lips in a kiss, his beard tickling you. The heat rose and your kiss deepened.

As your kiss ended, Thorin pressed his forehead to yours. "My love," he whispered. "My brave love."

***

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