#{the protector || bo}

[catladychronicles]

I present thee Anakin the boot guardian ; protector of soles 👢

[mandogab]

It's very possible that I love to write about the friendship between Fenn and Satine. I just know that he would be like a brother to her…

⇣ a little sneak peek ⇣

Satine smiled, knowing what he was trying to do. He wanted to make her feel better.

“You will be a good captain in the future,” she laughed.

“Only a captain?” Fenn raised his eyebrow playfully.

“…and a pilot. Definitely, a pilot too,” she corrected herself quickly, knowing he was trying hard to make his father proud. “I love flying with you.”

“So… how about breakfast in the clouds?”

“Great idea, but I'll be forced to say no,” she sighed, and the smile disappeared from her face. “I have a meeting with Pre Vizsla.”

“The governor of Concordia? Is he going to have breakfast with you?” Fenn was surprised. “Or is it a date?”

“Don't be funny!” Satine pushed him away, laughing.

“It would be a real honor… for him, of course… breakfast with the Duchess,” Fenn continued to tease her.

“Stop, we are supposed to talk about serious matters,” she chuckled.

[lightwise]

The Protector: Thoughts about Satine, Bo, and Din as rulers of Mandalore

This has already been discussed in much better detail here, here, and here, but I realized the other day that there is another aspect to the Bo-Katan vs. Din ruling Mandalore with the Darksaber that hasn't been mentioned.

I firmly agree that Din Djarin as a character is meant to serve as the Guardian/Protector, not the Ruler, of Mandalore. He is literally a knight in shining armor. His name could be a reference to the term Paladin (thank you for this @katherynefromphilly). I mean look at him.

Granted, I was excited to see him wield the Darksaber and potentially follow the reluctant leader trope. BUT. I think the direction they are taking him and Bo-Katan is much better.

So how does Satine factor into this, you ask? Here's how. What did Satine not have, as a leader? A PROTECTOR.

Now, she had Obi-Wan. And I believe she even called him her protector at one point (am I imagining this?) And he did what he could to keep her safe and give her guidance.

But he wasn't really able to be her protector the way she needed. They were not able to merge their lives together the way they might have wanted. And Satine's rule suffered and was cut short due to her lack of wise counsel, her lack of someone to lean on who had both her and Mandalore's best interests at heart. (We're going to ignore the Palpatine/Empire component which would have brought down Mandalore regardless, and did so in spite of both Satine and Bo-Katan's efforts).

What has Bo-Katan also not had until now? That same protection. (Other than Fenn Rau, thank you for pointing this out @mandalorianchronicles). And her efforts have also failed, until now.

I am not at all saying that either of these incredible women need a man to be able to rule. They are strong, capable, and independent leaders in their own right. But what they do need is the space to rule, the support and protection and gaps filled that someone having their back could give them, in order to be effective and far reaching in their efforts. Good leaders have to delegate. If they try to handle everything themselves, their energy and efforts will be diminished. And the role of the guardian/protector/paladin is to do just that.

I hope we get to see just how amazing of a team these two can be, supporting each other, filling in the gaps, and coming together to unite their separate definitions of Mandalorian and their respective tribes into one renewed dynasty. (Also keeping my fingers crossed for a Satine mention in live action PLEASE).

This is the Way.

[auroargraves]

Can we cast them again as leads in the next drama? Anything is fine as long as they act together as leads because I love their chemistry so much.

[kalevalakryze]

The Protector

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV) Pairings: Bo-Katan Kryze &Sabine Wren, Din Djarin & Bo-Katan Kryze Characters: Sabine Wren, Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin  Warnings: No Graphic Tags, Sparring, Depression Era Bo-Katan Kryze Notes: For @whumptober 2023 Day 19 & @sabineweek Bingo Prompt Fill "Mandalorian Protectors" & Sabine Week prompt "Sabine and Bo-Katan." Timeline is set around Mandalorian S3. Prompt: Sabine & Bo-Katan | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.” | Mandalorian Protectors AU Word Count: 3,120 AO3 Link: Here!

The perimeter alarms went off in a way that brought goosebumps to Sabine’s skin. There weren’t many beings alive who knew Clan Kryze’s ancestral home still sat on Kalevala, and from the list of those alive, even fewer could be trusted to show with less than hostile intentions. 

Her helmet was pulled on in short order; Bo-Katan did not utter a word to her protector as she stalked from the desolate Throne Room. Rain fell in thick droplets, rapid in their descent to the earth and in their journey of thoroughly soaking the thick material of Sabine’s flight suit. 

The N-1 was bright, chrome plating catching the flashes of lightning as it arced from the skies from several kilometers away. The pilot was just as reflective as his starship, fresh, unpainted armor catching the ever-present gloom of the storm as he landed. There was no Death Watch signet on his armor, and no threat in the way he exited his ship, in fact, the Mandalorian hadn’t even acknowledged the Protector upon his exit, instead turning back to his ship to prepare something from inside. 

Sabine’s fingers flexed towards the Westars at her side, peering through the raindrops on her visor as he worked. She could not see what was loaded into the pram, but soon, white-painted durasteel hovered two feet from the Mandalorian’s side, and he’d finally graced her with his acknowledgment. “I’m here to see Lady Bo-Katan Kryze,” He began, the wind caught most of his voice through the vocoder, chin raising as he regarded the strange woman and stranger armor. 

“She is not here, you should leave,” Sabine called, shoulders squared and chest puffing out as she regarded the unknown man. Bo-Katan had mentioned a Mandalorian fitting the description of the man, but as her sole Protector, she couldn’t be too careful. 

The Mandalorian paused, hopelessness sagging his frame. “Could you pass along a message, from a friend?”

Walking in long strides, Din Djarin had to move fast to keep at Sabine’s heels, the pram floating behind the two Mandalorians, and raindrops falling to the old carpet where it dripped from their armor. Bo-Katan did not raise her empty stare from indents in the floor, even as their purposeful strides bounced off the cavernous walls. 

“Lady Kryze,” Sabine pulled her helmet from her head, tucking it under her arm as she approached to bow her head, purple strands of hair falling in her face as she did so. Din seemed taken aback at this, but wisely allowed the Protector to continue once she’d garnered the attention of the Princess. “Din Djarin has come for you,” 

The chrome Mandalorian stepped past Sabine, allowing her to take her place to Bo-Katan’s side once more, boots having long since worn into the stone from her weeks of silent vigil at the older woman’s side. “I have come to join you,” He called, imitating Sabine’s posture; shoulders squared, chest puffed out, chin raised. At least an uncivilized member of the coverts could show some respect to the Leader of their people…

For the first time of the day, Bo-Katan’s weight shifted in the throne. Sabine felt the warmth of relief as Bo-Katan’s shoulders rolled. “There’s nothing left to join,” Bo-Katan refused to see it in her grief, that there was something to join, yet Sabine could not step from her place, it was not her duty to make the woman see that, not yet at least. 

Sabine’s head turned away as Din turned to stare at her for an explanation. Her teeth gritted and her fingers flexed around the rim of her helmet. It took a lot to keep her mouth shut, but she’d been trained for this, and had devoted her life to this. If Bo-Katan was not ready, Sabine could not force her…

Din’s confusion showed in his tone, his weight moved from the balls of his feet to his heels. “What of your plans to retake Mandalore?”

Bo-Katan scoffed and Sabine winced. “When I returned without the dark saber… My forces melted away,” Those piercing chartreuse eyes settled on her, bringing the younger Mandalorian to attention. She was the only one who’d stayed, after all. She was sworn not to the dark saber, but to Bo-Katan, and would continue to be until her death in battle. 

Din still seemed confused by this, his head shook in disbelief. “Then where is the stolen fleet?” He hadn’t spotted the stolen imperial ships on the surface, but he’d known the lengths she’d gone through to acquire such a scale for her nite owls. 

The muscles in Sabine’s jaw flexed. She had no kind thoughts on the usurpation of Bo-Katan Kryze for the spineless brute that had rallied her own forces against her. She’d kept her tabs on each of them and had watched every moral Lady Kryze had bestowed upon them all melt away under the promise of a handful of credits. “Making their way across the galaxy..” Bo-Katan answered, beskar catching on the smooth stone of her throne as her weight dropped back again. “As mercenaries,” She added almost sourly. 

Din Djarin’s head turned to the protector then, looking at the armored warrior from the paint splatter on her greaves to the colorful mark that named her commander of the guard stamped proudly into her breastplate. “Why have you stayed, then?” 

Golden eyes flickered towards Bo-Katan, though the woman had looked away pointedly. “Where she goes… I go,” The younger woman declared pridefully. There would never be any uncertainty about where her loyalties lay, ever since she joined the Mandalorian Protectors and had found the Regent Leader working as a Rebel. Saxon didn’t need her, and Mandalore hadn’t needed another to join the cause of bleeding it dry. Bo-Katan had freed the planet, and herself, and while the Imperials reigned havoc upon their homes, she would never forget the kindness that had come in war. 

“Do you still have the saber?”

“...I do”

“Then you lead them,” There was disdain in her tone, Bo-Katan was weary of the interaction already, it seemed. Sabine released a slow breath as she slipped her helmet back over her head, preparing to escort the chrome Mandalorian from Clan Kryze’s castle. “Wave that thing around, and they’ll do whatever you say.” 

“So you… gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?” There was a sadness in his voice, one Sabine could echo. Bo-Katan and herself had argued extensively about the planet’s survivability, and if saving their home would even be worth it. Each time, it seemed to only dull the woman’s will to do much more than sit upon the throne and mope. 

Coming from Din Djarin, however, this seemed to spark anger. Bo-Katan’s lip curled, and Sabine had to calculate the time it would take her to leap between the two. For a woman who spoke of the heaps of Mandalorian blood spilled by her own, she was always so ready to attack even the slightest offense, to defend herself and her honor, oftentimes forgetting that she had Sabine to help carry that weight. 

“Your cult gave up on Mandalore.” She snarled, muscles in her jaw twitching, though neither Heiress or Child of the Watch moved for their weapon, despite stirring hostilities. Still, Sabine took a step down, closer to the apex of tension between them all. “Long before the purge,” A deep breath as the older woman’s brows furrowed, her weight shifted forward and her eyes narrowed. “Where were you then?” 

“The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before,” Her voice dropped; Bo-Katan had never been one to shy away from her part in Mandalore’s destruction or in the part those fallen, fragmented members of her clan had in the division of their people. “Fractured and shattered our people…. Go home… There’s nothing left.” Sabine’s chin dropped at the conviction in Bo-Katan’s voice. It was the same argument, with a different, hopeful Mandalorian in her place. 

Din Djarin did not back down, however, and Sabine had to commend such an act. “I am going to Mandalore so that I may bathe in the living waters, and be forgiven for my transgressions,” 

There was something familiar in his tone, a voice that had been mimicked by Tristan when he’d run off to the Imperial Academy and returned to Krownest years later with a Jetti and a band of rebels. A promise in his voice that she knew from experience could only be put down with death. Maybe Bo-Katan needed her own Tristan, like she had… A look towards the redhead’s quiet, seething form had told her that no, Din Djarin was not the spark that would reignite the fire of Bo-Katan Kryze. 

“You are a fool.” Her weight shifted against the throne once more. The woman was finished with the conversation, that much was clear, as her tired gaze moved to Sabine before lingering back to empty walls, sinking back into the ghosts of her memories, in paintings that had been taken off the walls when the wails of their ancestors grew too loud. 

“There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore,” She continued, eyes moving across the stone, as if she was watching the choppy animating of a children’s holofilm play out. “They supplied beskar ore to our ancestors, and the rest is superstition. That planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned.” 

“You said that the curse was a lie. Make up your mind,” 

Sabine did not often wear her helmet outside of battle, but now she was thankful for the beskar hiding the way her lips split into a smile. He certainly had a fire in him, that was undeniable. 

“If you want to go to the mines,” Bo-Katan finally turned to look at him once again. “Be my guest. They’re beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari,” 

“Thank you… And I will find out if the planet is really poisoned.” Sabine finally moved from her post to escort the spitfire as he turned away from Bo-Katan. 

“Goodbye, Din Djarin.”

“He’s got a point, Lady Kryze,” Sabine began upon her return to the throne room, frowning at the way Bo-Katan sat back on the throne, a gauntleted arm thrown over her eyes in frustration. 

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Wren,” Bo-Katan snapped without looking at her. Sabine let out a soft sigh as she jogged up the stairs of the throne. The younger Mandalorian sighed as she removed Bo-Katan’s helmet from the side of the throne, setting it carefully on the floor under the hawk-like gaze of its owner until she’d removed her own and set it at her side as well.

Carefully, Sabine perched on the arm of the throne, hands in her lap, nervously picking at the fabric that covered her knuckles. “You’re the smartest person I know, Lady Kryze, nothing is going to change that-”

A scoff from the redhead, as she turned her body to face the back of the throne, armor scraping against each other as she curled her legs onto the chair with her. For someone who stood so tall and took up so much space, it made her chest ache to see her let the world swallow her up. 

“Would you like to spar, my lady?” 

This, at least, seemed to get some life from the woman. Sabine needed to keep active, and as much as she liked running the trails around the castle or dancing around the cavernous rooms, a good fight was what they both needed to get the blood pumping and burn off Lady Kryze’s simmering stockpile of rage. 

Bo-Katan was always a ferocious sight in battle. Being able to witness the woman’s prowess in battle was like having a front row seat to the stories passed down between clans, of warriors with the fires of the Great Forge burning under their hal’cabur, bending the battlefield to their demand as they fought for what was right.

There were no stormtroopers to be found under her fist, yet, as the woman taped her knuckles on the other side of the mats, Sabine could still feel the tangible thrum of anticipation, a thundering in her heart at the promise of being the one to pull the Mand’alor from her stupor, however brief it may be. 

Shaking the throes of anxiety from her fingertips, the Protector stretched her arms above her head, palm locking against the opposing elbow until the familiar stretch in her arms thrummed through muscle. Bo-Katan was occupied on the other side; while she did was not one to miss her morning exercises, it had been all too long since she’d allowed the armor to come off. Sabine filed the knowledge away to polish it for the woman later, if all things worked according to plan. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, little Wren.” There was humor in her voice was she spoke, yellow-green eyes unblinking as she adjusted the way the dark blue material rested across her knuckles. 

“My apologies, Lady Kryze,” The woman’s voice held no apology, but the hints of mirth that Bo-Katan had come to appreciate in her company. A smirk tugged at full lips as Sabine released her arm, swinging them out to loosen up before repeating the process on the other side. 

“Alright, Protector, let’s see if you’ve still got it,” There was a spark in her eyes, an ember of something that had been doused by so many before, but not quite put out, not yet, not while Sabine had anything to do with it, at least. 

Bo-Katan waited for Sabine to strike first, air displacing around her fist as she jabbed out, using her forward momentum to follow Bo-Katan’s sidestep up with an elbow jabbed outwards. Bo caught the elbow against her forearm, shoving Sabine back to stagger her momentum. 

“You start with that?” Bo-Katan taunted, sharp eyebrow raised as Sabine spun on her heel, fingers flexing as golden eyes reassessed. 

“Had to make sure you were going to be on your game, this time. Didn’t want to leave you in the dust like-”

Before Sabine could finish, she was put into a terse defense as Bo-Katan snapped forward. Blow after blow was caught on forearms and the meat of her thighs, muscles aching and shaking under the feeling of bruises blooming under powerful hits. 

Bo-Katan wasn’t holding back, a smile seemed to pull at her lips as she sunk into the familiar burn, a predator pushing their prey to the bring, playing with their food… It was the most Bo-Katan had seemed like herself since capturing the Imperial fleet and laying eyes upon the dark saber once more. 

Before Sabine knew it, a foot was hooking behind her ankle, her body was being pitched forward into a steady column of the older Mandalorian’s body, and, in a last-ditch attempt to regain some control of the situation, they were soon both tumbling to the mats, Sabine’s arms circled around Bo-Katan’s shoulders, pinning one arm under her own as her back hit the mats. 

With Bo-Katan’s foot wedged around her shin, the purple-haired Protector was able to koala both legs over the one, knees locking around the thick muscle of Bo-Katan’s thigh as she pitched them to the side, hands scraping, burning against the rough material of the mat as her hands rubbed flat into the floor, pushing herself off the redhead just enough to get a hand on her shoulder.

From the corners of her eyes, she could see the way purple and blue were already beginning to bloom across olive skin, could see the way the freckled skin flushed, sweat-slick and almost shining in artificial lights. Bo-Katan said nothing, breathing through parted lips, a much quieter contrast to the deep swallows Sabine was breathing. Intermingled and tangled, Sabine stared down at the older woman, shock and a sliver of fear at being the one to get the Bo-Katan Kryze on her back.

The silence dragged with Sabine frozen in spot, and Bo-Katan’s eyes raking inquisitively over the protector. 

It took a rush of… something, surely not confidence, that had words spilling past Sabine’s lips, words she had mulled over and had not considered articulating when Bo-Katan seemed desperate to stew in her misery. “Lady Kryze-” She paused as if waiting for permission to continue, however, she forged on before the woman could acknowledge her. The younger woman sat up, leaning back against the redhead’s bent knees. “If there is a way to reclaim Mandalore, don’t you think we should? Mandalorians… we’re stronger together,” Her finger twitched against the soft fabric of the woman’s tank top, anxiety brimming over the surface as the embers in her eyes simmered. 

“I’ll take one final step,” Bo breathed, voice dark and heavy, lips smoothing into a mask of dispassion as her hands settled against Sabine’s arms, fingertips dancing across bruised elbows before she was guiding the young Protector off of her. Letting herself drop to the mats beside her, Sabine reached to brush her hair out of the way, watching Bo-Katan as she rose and wiped the sweat from her brow. “All you have to do is make me.” When Bo-Katan rose next, she extended a hand down to the woman below her. “Show me…” A pause, like the woman was reconsidering this moment of vulnerability, even with the woman who had seen her through her worst times. “Show me the way, Wren.”

Something itched at the back of Sabine’s mind. The Jetti paired with Tristan’s ‘Ghost’ crew had mentioned the Force to her once, nothing but passing in an explanation of a blind man and his blue son, but from how her vod’ika had explained it, she could only consider it to the feeling of the Manda. When she reached to take Bo-Katan’s hand, there was a flash of the image, distorting in the Manda’s memory of gold and grey armor, reaching to take the blue gauntlet of the woman before her. 

Ursa Wren had once been this person for Bo-Katan Kryze, and she had met her end for it, at the hands of Moff Gideon. Bo was danger, she was carnage and blood and ruin. But Sabine always did have an affinity for volatile experiences and people. Ticking bombs were her specialty, and no matter how long the charge that was her Mand’alor lay dormant, Sabine was her mother’s daughter. She knew the risks, and the dangers that came with it, and time and time again, the Wren would follow the Owl to ruin. 

Sabine’s hand clasped in Bo-Katan’s as the image steadied, offering a stretch of her lips, a smile as she tugged Bo-Katan until their shoulders bumped. “Then let’s get to work, my lady.”

[sapphicsparkles]

thanks for the tag @soloorganaas ! 

share the last line you wrote in your wip:

"Hm?" Not quite the eloquent response of a Protector, but well, the Mand'alor was standing in front of her mostly naked with sex tousled hair, now looking back at the datapad.

"You're dismissed."

tagging @armoralor @treescape @intermundia @theseptemberist @kalevalakryze

[dootchster]

Can't believe we've literally gotten a repeat of Sabine's Darksaber storyline.

[asteroids-and-tractorbeams]

Soooooo are Mando clan colors just fanon or does Bo-Katan just still wear Nite Owl/Deathwatch colors instead of something related to her house or clan??

[chocobothis]

Etsy: Would you like a five dollar credit? It's you anniversary with the site.

Bo-Katan/Nite Owl things are really easy to find now. But, finding something with Fenn Rau/Journeyman Protectors of Concord Dawn? Unheard of. I love my Spicy Pilot so much even if I rarely post about it.

The coins are both far bigger than I imagined; like the size of my palm. I have to figure out how to best display them but I definitely want to get the ones with Hera and Kanan too.

Everything from SpectreSurplus on Etsy.

[welcometothevale]

My first tag dump/drop thingy lmao.

The ones with full sentences are dialogue from the book.

[uwingdispatch]

Protectors of Concord Dawn, anyone?

I rewatched Rebels recently and have been thinking of Fenn Rau and all the Mandalorian planets and systems we might end up visiting in The Mandalorian Season 3. And I’d love to see what Fenn Rau is up to these days, and whether The Protectors—who were once the Royal Guard—have rebuilt on the third moon of Concord Dawn or elsewhere.

Which is to say I made some Protectors baseball shirts. The Mando’a says THE MANDALORIAN PROTECTORS over the Protectors’ crest and two crescent moons. You can find them here. I hope you like them.

[mandogab]

Fenn Rau is dead? Right?

[h377b7iss]

.

[cherubfae]

𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶, 𝔧𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Bo

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[thief-of-eggs]

The casual intimacy of the Silco/Vander jackets scene makes me feel like they were the type to share a bed when the nights were too cold, and blankets too sparse. Like they were the type to be all up in each other’s business, speaking on each other’s behalf, fighting on each other’s behalf.

Like they were the type to offer each other casual touch and affection, when it was so hard for them to give to others. Vander silently grabbing a comb to brush through Silco’s hair, Silco wordlessly applying polish to Vander’s gauntlets.

I don’t know why the scene hit me so profoundly, but it did. Maybe it’s because there’s a level of intimacy needed in order to so casually hang your coat within another’s. You need to be trusting of the other person’s level of cleanliness, first off, to assume your own clothes won’t pick up some dirt, or a foul smell. And there’s the fact that a scent is likely to be picked up- Silco’s jacket then would smell like Vander, and Vander’s would smell like Silco. Whatever cologne or body wash or personal BO they had must’ve been strong enough to linger, given how Jinx tried sniffing their coats, even after all the years.

It also shows the heartbreaking layer of trust that Silco had for Vander. To slip his jacket into Vander’s, like a physical reminder that Vander was his protector. That he knew he was smaller and weaker but also knew that Vander would never hurt him.

Until he did, anyway. Despite how casually intimate they were, despite how trusting, how intertwined.

No wonder Silco went a little insane. Came back a little demented. Hell, I’d burn the world too if I were in his shoes.

[xinrouska]

Wake up babes new au just dropped!! Deity AU inspired by Chinese mythology, most definitely because I got very into nezha and wukong in general 😭

Don // Dūo Nà // The Forge

Cares for the ambitious and the innovators. His choice of weapon is his metal Bo, though with an affinity for metal, he can morph the bo into whatever he seems fit.

Leo // Lí Ò // The All Seeing

Cares for the lost. Has the ability to see the true selves of people. A nomad and healer.

Mikey // Mí Kāi // The Judge

A psychopomp who judges souls fairly. Comforting and joyous but please don’t piss him off.

Raph // Lā Féi // The Heart

Protector and shield, especially to children and young. Has many arms to hug many people.

Extra sketches!!