#i think if you shot Bo point blank their eyes would just be all that there's left

[the-acid-pear]

enjoying archiving characters. taking them to the back and shooting them.

[bountycancelled]

ANTIFRAGILE

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opla zoro x reader

in which, even though it doesn't seem like it, zoro cares (alot, about you, specifically)

genre: one shot, gn! reader, short

requested: yes! tysm (reqs are still open for anyone<3)

a/n: idk, enjoy I guess? (unedited)

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"need any help, darling?" Sanji's flirtatious voice rang out from behind you, disturbing your damn near embarrassing attempts at lifting a box.

you huffed as you dropped it once again, turning to face Sanji as you shrugged him off with a wave of your hand. "no no, I wouldn't want you using your hands for something that isn't in the kitchen. I can manage."

an unconvinced Sanji nodded before walking off, leaving you and your own stubbornness to deal with the heavy lifting. the truth of the matter was, that you definitely did need help, but you'd be dammed to hell before accepting any.

it seemed as if you had some sort of problem accepting yourself for who you were.

you were by far the most stealthy individual anyone had ever met, most people didn't even know you were in the room until you had a knife to their throat. you were the resident idea person in high pressure situations, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in technique.

ah yes, strength. if there was one thing that you could not accept that you didn't have, it was physical strength. you were never the type to brute force your way out of a situation zoro-style, bit it would still be nice to have the option of doing so.

it wasn’t as if anybody in the crew made you feel bad for your lack of strength, it was more so an internal issue within your own psyche.

what could you say? you were tired of having to ask your fellow crew mates to help you do something as simple as carrying something from point A to point B. you were tired of feeling useless every time more hands on approach was needed. but that all ended today. (well, you hoped that it all ended today anyway)

after what felt like and probably was an eternity you could finally lift the box that you had set your eyes on, sure you had taken so long that Luffy had forgotten that he even wanted it but you had done it nonetheless and you were proud of yourself. that pride however was short lived with your body ache in a way that you never thought possible.

you knew, or at the very least, you thought that you knew how much your body could take, but said body had no problem humbling you the second you had gotten a little too confident in skills that you didn't have.

you weakly limped towards your room, ignoring the sympathetic look from Sanji, the "you shouldn't have done that but I still feel bad" look from Nami, the soft pat on your back from usopp, Luffy not even noticing your current state, and Zoro's blank cold stare with what you could only hope bubbled with a bit of concern.

you would be lying if you said that you weren't trying to impress a certain green haired individual on the crew with a knack for using swords in unconventional ways. but your little schoolgirl crush was getting to the point where it was causing you physical pain, and you needed to get your mind out of its delusion.

Zoro was not going to give you attention just because you lifted a heavy bo–

your self chastising session was ended prematurely by a knock in the door, that kind of sounded like an alien life form trying to imitate a human custom. you let out a small 'come in', not being entirely suprised to see Zoro on the other side. (after all, he's the only in the crew who would care or even think to knock.)

what you were suprised to see however, was the plate of food in his hand. it was your favourite dinner which he had threatened Sanji to make which he placed on your desk, walking out just as quickly as he came.

before he left, he looked at you over his shoulder, seemingly contemplating if he should say what he wanted to say.

"you shouldn't push yourself to do something that's dangerous for you body. you're... more talented than you give yourself credit for."

you smiled to yourself, unable to not feel the butterflies floating around in your stomach, but his last words sent you over the edge.

"I don't want to see you hurting. ever."

[obsidiancreates]

The Ghost Of You

Chauncey Badminton succeeds. But those with unfinished business...

Major Character Death, Blood, Shooting, Unhappy Ending, I repeat, UNHAPPY ENDING

Chauncey misses with the first shot, he thinks, so he goes to reload. It’s only after he’s gone through the long process that he looks up, and realizes that Stede Bonnet is lying dead on the dirt. His eyes stare up at the night sky, glassy and unseeing, and blood soaks into his thin white military-granted shirt.

“Look at that,” Chancey puffs past a drunken burp. “Got ‘im in one. Time to get rid of the bo-”

He trips on the way to the body, shooting himself in the eye. 

The two corpses lay there. Creature begin to sniff them.

On a little doc, hours later, Edward Teach rows away. He rows away alone, and broken, and to his knowledge… abandoned.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Kraken doesn’t pay attention to pointless rumors. Most of them are fuckin’ bullshit, anyway.

But his crew pay attention.

So while The Kraken, Blackbeard, whoever the fuck he’s trying to be now, goes around willfully ignorant to the current state of the high seas… his crew talk.

There’s rumors a ghost, out in these waters. A lost lover. The spectre waves from a rowboat, they all say.

Some say it comes aboard covered in blood and tears. Others say it climbs aboard looking for all the world a normal human, but a lost and dazed expression. Some say the ghost doesn’t climb aboard at all, but simply appears on deck when the rowboat comes close enough.

“It begs to see it’s lover,” the whispers claim. “But won’t say their name, nor it’s own. Lost, most likely, to the depths of sea that claimed their bodies.”

Well, probably claimed their bodies, anyway. But why else would a ghost be at sea but because they died in it? A ghost that died on land wouldn’t end up sailing around. That just doesn’t make sense.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have to get there, I have to get there, I have to find him, please will you help me find him? His name… no, he’s changed it by now… please, I didn’t mean to leave him…

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Let them come over.”

Izzy looks at The Kraken, watches him gulp down another mouthful of whatever alcohol they have aboard right now. “I… respectfully disagree, Captain.”

“Oh, want another toe already? Fuckin’- if you’re that hungry mate-”

“Not that, sir. Just… the rumors, lately.”

“Rumors? Fuckin’ rumors, fuck those things. Well let them up, we’ll kill them, we’ll take their fuckin’ stuff because we’re pirates.” He takes another drink, and walks away.

Izzy stares out at the lone rowboat, a single figure standing in it, too difficult to make out fully on the foggy night. They have one arm raised, standing Too Still in their rocking little wooden boat.

“Fuck.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hand grips the side of the boat. The Kraken stands behind Fang and Ivan, ready for the reveal, for this poor sod to soil themself about Blackbeard before he has them run thro-

“Can you help me?”

… No.

“I’m looking for someone.”

No.

“I didn’t mean to… I was delayed-”

“I’ll fucking say so,” he hears Jim croak. “C-Captain-”

“I need to find him.”

The cold shock washes away, fire sparking in Ed’s empty chest. He shoves against the shellshocked Fang and Ivan, barely registers Izzy in the same state and Frenchie in tears. “Didn’t mean to leave me behind?”

But when Stede turns around… oh, the fire is doused. And Ed goes as numb and still as the rest.

Blank gray eyes stare at him. Blood stains the shirt, the pants, the shoes, all the same as the day… and it’s coming from the chest, from a fatal point, a hole ripped into his- his-

“Stede.” Ed’s voice cracks. His sword falls from his hand. 

The… The Ghost, The Ghost Of Stede Bonnet, it… smiles. Smiles with all the relief in the world. It steps closer, and Ed can’t seem to move, because this is a nightmare, t has to be all of this is a nightmare-

“Ed.” Stede breathes his name, but his chest doesn’t move. How can it? When he goes to cup Ed’s face, it’s like a freezing mist as laid itself against Ed’s cheek, and he shivers. The blank gray eyes stare out from the pale, nearly transparent face, and no no no he can’t be- Ed spent all this time thinking- hating, cursing, hurting out of vengeance, screaming and breaking and hating-

And the whole time he was- was-

“Ed.” Stede leans closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.”

“S-Stede, y-you-”

The Ghost Of A Kiss. The Ghost Of A Kiss shared on a beach, in the hazy light of a setting sun, full of hope and gentle apprehension.

It’s Ghost tastes like salt and iron, feels wet and should be warm but it’s frigid instead. It’s Ghost is shared in the dead of the night, on a barely-cared-for deck, full of sorrow and regret.

Stede pulls back. Ed can see through him. He can see that the hole goes straight through. In one side, out the other. Those eyes aren’t meant to be gray, they’re meant to be warm brown and full of life and shining and-and-

“I was going to kill you.” Ed’s voice is little more than a rasp. “If I saw you again.”

Stede doesn’t seem to hear the confession. The Ghost just strokes Ed’s cheek, smiling softly. “I found you again. I’m sorry, Ed. I’m sorry.”

“Stede, no-”

“Jeff.”

“... What?”

“Our new names. I thought yours could be Jeff. You said you liked it.”

The tears finally spill. “Fuckin’- fuckin’ perfect, mate. Let’s- we can do it now, we can run away, don’t- don’t leave-”

Stede leans in.

He’s gone before their lips meet.

Ed collapses into a sobbing heap.

Stede Bonnet’s Ghost is never seen again.

[kanene-yaaay]

Talks, Teases and Tea

Warnings: I can’t think of any. They’re just talking about boundaries and lightly teasing and tickling ech other. Brief Ler!Aizawa and Lee!Hizashi with implied Lee!Toshinori. About 2500 words.

Kanene’s notes: Heya! I’ve been wanting to finish this fic for a while! I wanted to write a bit more about it because it is an interesting scenario but dfghjdfghjr I was already losing the tracks with this quite long fic, so, yay! I am glad I am finally sharing this w u all <3. I hope u like this ^v^

[~*~]

Toshinori winced at his own smile, staring at the cup of tea in front of him with an intensity that wasn't really needed. His gaze flicked quickly across the two guests in the room, analysing the situation. Aizawa drank his tea slowly, partly oblivious to Hizashi, who kept drumming his finger on the tabletop in a rhythm he was sure he heard somewhere, humming a song. Their gazes locked together and Toshinori couldn't help the slight blush which traveled to his cheeks. They quickly averted their eyes.

Aizawa's loud, exasperated sigh flew across the room. "You two are ridiculous."

Hizashi and Toshinori broke down in giggles, not really denying the black haired teacher words, the acknowledgement of how they, professional heroes trained to act through the nervousness and pressure, just spent minutes deviating glares and blushing like teenagers in love making them only laugh harder.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" Yagi was the first to get himself together, softly smiling under Shouta's intense eyes.

"Yes." The aforementioned retorted. "But it's necessary."

"We can't say it isn't even a bit awkward, though." Hizashi contemplated, stirring a spoon on his untouched drink. His smile became wicked as he wiggled his fingers in front of Aizawa's face. "Aren't you nervous about sharing your deepest desires with us, Shou?"

He yelped as the other batted his hand away, scoffing, not unkindly. "Stop, you're scaring Toshinori."

The attention switched to the taller one. Showing vulnerability was difficult to all of them, but to the former number one hero it sometimes felt as if he would never be able to fully do it.

He was working on that.

"Oh, shit, sorry,  I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, Hizashi-san." Yagi scratched at his neck, wondering if the hot feeling painting his cheeks would ever disappear. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you with it." His grin was small, but honest.

Aizawa did his best to not get up from his chair and hide Toshinori on his capture weapon before he killed him with cuteness, just as he did with his cats. At his side, Hizashi made a show of placing his hands on his chest and crying "My heart!" dramatically as if he just got shot. All Might's face got even redder.

"Right." The erasure hero started before his urge became stronger. "Let's start with a safeword."

"Right." Yagi beamed, getting a small notepad in hands and hurrying to find a blank space on it. 

He looked up when no more suggestions filled the air, only to find a very amused green gaze staring right at him as the other grumbled something about not being awake enough for that and stole Hizashi's tea. "Toshi, dear, what are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, actually I…" He cleaned his throat. "My memory is kind of bad so I was wondering that I could, maybe, take notes?”

"Will they be coded?"

"Yes."

“Then I don’t care. Do what works for you.”

"Oooh," Yamada popped in, hands resting on the tabletop as his body inclined forward. "Clever! Such a clever idea! Can you teach it to me later? And let me take pictures?"

"O-of course, Hizashi-san."

Shouts huffed, amused. "You know he will use all that information against you, right?"

"Shhh! Shou, don’t expose my evil plan!"

"Maybe we could use the Spotlight system?" Yagi cut their bickering, knowing the lengths they could take their playfulness and he really doubted he would have the courage to finish this conversation another day.

"Bo-o-ring! We should choose something more unique and new! Something more like..." The blonde's eyes suddenly gathered a dangerous glint. "I am here."

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"No, no, no, Toshinori-san, hear me out, hear me out!" His words almost couldn't be understood across his crackles, the voice hero trying to make the Number One hero to stop hiding his face, knowing that any attempt of reasoning about this with Aizawa would be quickly ignored. "Think about it! Think carefully about it!"

The called one peaked between the fingers of the hand, opening his mouth to vehemently protest against the use of his hero persona’s trademark phrase, but then, in that exact moment Yamada pointed to Shouta.

Suddenly, a very clear image of his gloomy, reserved coworker, with a gigantic smile plastered on his face shouting "I am here!" between his frantic, low laughter filled his mind.

He took a steady breath.

"I am tempted," was his final verdict.

"Yes!"

"I refuse."

"Democracy is really a bitch isn't it?" Hizashi pouted in fake empathy. "I promise I won't tease you... too much."

"I can and will kill you both before that. I am an underground hero, I have my ways."

Yagi chuckled. "I still believe we could use the spotlight system, too. It's faster."

"Noo, Toshinori-san! We were almost winning!"

Aizawa flicked him on the forehead, lips quirking upwards before he sobered. "We also need a word to signal a need for a break and a non verbal one. That is not negotiable."

Hizashi blinked, red dusking his initially confident expression. "Oh, yeah, this is actually a very good idea."

"For the non verbal we could tap out?"

"Nope. I trash around too much, probably would do this without even realizing it…" How could Yamada talk so freely about this, Yagi would never truly understand. "Ah, I know! We could just snap our fingers!” He was fast to demonstrate his words. “Quick and easy!"

"And we could use Break as the other one, everyone agrees?" Aizawa nodded at the affirmative sounds said by the others. "Good. Bondage?"

Silence.

"I am… not very comfortable with it as the ler, but…" Hizashi drummed his fingers harder on the tabletop, stopping only when Aizawa gave his mug back, happy in occupying his antsy hands with it. "Sometime... When I am in a strong Lee mood, I like the light ones?"

"Always ask before, then." Yagi smiled kindly at him before scribbling that down. "Shouta-san?"

"Yes. Just not my arms."

"Right."

"And you Toshinori-san?"

The pencil stopped for a second. Yagi chuckled nervously. 

"...I don't really know."

He couldn't describe it. That not quite quite, but definitely there, feeling that accommodated on his chest everytime he thought about it.

"It's okay." Yamada reassured. "It's never too late to discover and try it! When you feel comfortable enough to do that, of course. Also, don’t forget: just one word and we will stop."

"This talk is important exactly because of that."

Warmth filled Yagi’s chest at care and the safety that flowed from each act, each word from the other two.

"Of course." His tune then became serious. When did he get so soft in the first place? "And, if any of your preferences change, warn me. This needs to be comfortable for all of us, right?"

"Will do."

Shouta hummed in agreement.

"Okay. Aaand what about petnames?"

Suddenly, Yagi was very, very happy for having that conversation in person and not through shy, quick messages in their shared group - how he first intended for it to be,- because otherwise he wouldn't have had the gold opportunity to watch how fast Aizawa’s face was able to blush entirely with a single sentence.

The Erasure Hero lifted his gaze, gave a quick glance between Hizashi’s smug expression and Toshinori’s truly awed one and immediately shrunk on his chair, arms crossed and grumpy grubbles being chewed under his breath, the red on his features still shining brightly. 

“Fuck.” Both of the other two integrants in the room snickered at the curse.

“Baaabeee.~”

“Shut up. I hate you.”

“My deeear, my adorably, adorable blushy toyy.~”

Shouta twitched in his place, an uncontrollable wobbly smile opening its way to his lips, butterflies jumping and dancing non stop on his stomach. He shrunk even further on the chair, refusing to hide his face only because he knew how much of a fuel that would be for both blondes.

(And, maybe because deep down, he liked the attention he was receiving.) 

“I am going to leave.”

“Aww, why? The serious, grumpy Shouta can’t stand letting his bestest friends knowing that he is actually a soft, adorable, flustered-” at each adjective Hizashi ignored the other’s - admitelly fake - sharp gaze in order to poke his stomach with every word. “-little wiggle lee?”

It took just a blink of an eye. In a second Yamada was tormenting him, having an absolute blast with the way Shouta’s blush was travelling all the way to his neck, chest shaking with his attempts to trap the bubbling giggles inside, and, on the other, the underground hero used their proximity to grab the Voice Hero’s hand and twist him so the blond would be trapped on his arms, a surprised high pitched sound flying the air.

“I would be very careful with my next words, if I were you.” The black haired hero adjusted them so his low tune would hit directly Hiazhi’s unprotected, and also very sensitive, ears, that act alone being able to fish more whining noises from the blond.

“And you.” Toshinori couldn’t help the way his soft smile turned into a nervous one when those black, deep eyes stared directly on the bottom of his soul, the redness of his face taking some of the sharpness of his words, however. “Don’t think you’re out of danger just because there is a table between us. We know I’m faster.”

“I wouldn’t dream about it, Shouta-san.” Yagi replied with an amused placating gesture, his entire face filled with softness. “I was just appreciating how considerate and attentive it was from Hizashi-san’s part to bring up such an important topic and also how great it was for you to let him have some fun before your immediate reaction.”

He watched with a sweet interest and a polite faked confusion, as if he couldn’t understand the impact his words and the implications they held, as their faces were set on flames again with his blunt honesty. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shouta-san!” The former number one hero chipped before innocently writing down a few more lines on his notes.

“Yagi-san!” Yamada whined. “I thought we were a team! Partners in crime! Two forces that gathered together to bring Shouta down. How could you betray me like that?!”

Toshinori just grinned free of any guilt, not taking long before he sobered again. “Is there, however, any nickname you’re not comfortable with, Shouta-san, Hizashi-san?”

The one with vivid green eyes seemed lost in thought for a moment, so the underground hero’s grumbles were easily noticed in the sudden silence.

“Just don’t call me any variation of ‘pet’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Toshinori replied, writing that information down as well.

“Oh, yeah, I just remembered something. It’s not really a nickname and more of a situation? I think it can be called that?” Hizashi cocked his head to the side, fingers tapping on the temple of his glasses. “I mean, it’s not the topic here and I can wait for when talk about it, of course! I just literally remembered it-”

“Hizashi. Spill it.”

“Right. Okay. Hm, don’t call for help while we’re at it?”

Shouta furrowed his eyebrows, not really getting the reason for the wish. His gaze found Yagi’s one and found confusion there as well, however both were quick to let it be buried  away by understanding.

If Hizashi wanted to share his reasoning in the future, he would. It was not in their place to question his boundaries.

“Of course, dear.”

Hizashi could barely describe the warm, nice feeling filling his chest when he heard Toshinori calling him that, immediately melting when Aizawa gave his back a few light scratches, not enough to tickle, but just the nice tad of a good, comforting gesture.

“Softies, softies. All of you.” He sing sang cheerfully at them.

A squeeze on his tummy made a loud squeal cut any other teasing he might come up with. “I can show Yagi how soft you can be.” Aizawa purred, his hands slowly crawling to strategic, ticklish spots on his belly and thighs. 

“Shouta. Shouta, wait! Y-you know I was only kidding, my dear, my sunshine, my old pal, my very kind, very, very forgiving friend!” Yamada’s wiggles become stronger, titters spilling from his lips in between his pleas, body squirming and trying to escape from the other’s still strong hold.

“Don’t think you will able to escape so easily, not after the whole ‘petnames’ topic you decided to bring up.” His titters evolved to fast giggles when Aizawa decided it would be a good idea to place surprising pokes and prodding on his skin. “Also, a serious, sad face doesn’t fit you.”

“We stihihill have to finish the conversation!” Aizawa hummed, not convinced. “Yagi, my hero, tell him!”

Toshinori wouldn’t point himself as a coward, really. He had faced and battled against all kinds of villains with a reassuring smile and a booming laughter on the tip of his tongue, he had survived a meeting with Nedzu and Gran Tourino’s training.

However, as Aizawa’s smirk was thrown in his direction in sync with a sharp, playful gaze, he couldn’t stop the excited squeak that escaped from his mouth.

Also, at the scene of a previously smug Yamada giggling himself silly and staring at him with a fake pout, maybe he couldn’t help but feel a little playful, as well. Besides, even though he would deny it until his end days, Yagi knew how much soft Aizawa truly was when it came to the people he cared about, therefore the underground hero would be careful to not cross any of the blond’s boundaries. 

“Oh, my, it seems like the tea is cold.” He got up, gathering the cups on his arms. “Maybe we could take a deserved break before discussing the rest of the topics, right? I will make more tea.” And he grinned, light and innocently, at Hizashi’s energetic protests, which grew more less like words and more like a mess of laughter, snorts and giggles as the tallest friend directed himself to the kitchen.

After a few more minutes of tickles, Aizawa stared at the smiley mess on his hold with a dangerous shine on his eyes.

“You’re really a tickle monster, aren’t you?” Hizashi chuckled.

“It’s not my fault that he really believes he can escape from the same fate of yours.”

Yamada huffed a laugh, lightly smacking his arms. “Go. But soon enough I will catch my breath, so don’t forget to watch your back. ~”

Aizawa gave his hips a warning pinch before snorting as he got up, looking at the kitchen’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Good luck with that.”

Needless to say, they had a very giggly break.

[bloodskipper]

Bo Sinclair x reader | Hell or High Water | Pt. 15

CONTENT WARNINGS: restraint (haha yeah again), tsundere-vibes, terror, knives, blood, violence

Your eyes fluttered open and the sun was already shining strongly through the curtains in the bedroom. A yawn scrunched up your face and you tried to stretch your arms above your head... only to realize your hands were tied to the headboard. A burst of panic shot through you as you frantically tugged on the rope in an effort to free yourself, but you soon relaxed with a bitter sigh.

At this point, it was hard to surprise you.

With everything that had cursed you up to this point, you figured Bo had done this for whatever reasons Bo might have - no matter how scared of him you were in the moment, you knew he personally was never going to follow through with the sinister plans he may have had in mind. According to him, however, his brothers were a different story. On surface level, they seemed harmless, but there was hardly any sliver of trust to cling to here.

You lay sprawled for several minutes with your eyes closed, waiting for Bo to return and serve you some kind of bullshit as to why he did this. The front door squeaked open and you heard someone climbing the stairs.

Thank god, you thought. My arms are fucking tired.

An annoyed scowl darkened your face as the doorknob turned; you were ready to give Bo another "what the fuck" and "if you like me, you have to stop doing this kind of shit" talk. To your surprise, it wasn't Bo at all.

"Hey, Y/N!" Lester beamed, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind him. "Ya miss me?"

Your scowl dropped to blank disbelief.

"Did Bo set this up?" you asked flatly.

"Hell, no," Lester replied, still with a smile. "We been out lookin' fer ya, well... seems like forever! But I know Bo's gonna be real happy when he sees this." His eyes scanned your sprawled body, causing you to draw up your knees to your torso.

"Now, now, don't think yer gettin' outta this one, Y/N," Lester hastily chuckled as he snatched your ankles to secure them to the bedposts.

"God, would you guys get over yourselves already?" you asked in the same bored tone while Lester tied the final knot. He perked up at your comment, blinking and jutting his head backward.

"This ain't about us. Ain't Bo tell you that already?"

Before you could speak, another pair of footsteps was heard clammering up staircase and was soon in the room with you and Lester.

"I told ya, Vincent! I got 'em!" Lester pointed happily at your restraints. The taller man said nothing and stood behind his brother with his eyes on you.

"Is this really necessary?" you questioned. "If you haven't killed me by now, then what's the point?"

"It's not that we want to kill you, Y/N. We just can't trust ya now," explained Lester, brandishing a bowie knife, its blade coated in dried blood. He lightly scraped it off on his jeans and took a step toward you, biting his lips in an eager grin. Vincent stood silently in the corner, cocking his head slightly every now and then.

Lester traced his knife's tip lightly up your leg, occasionally stopping just to look up and watch you squirm.

"You won't do it," you bluffed, a layer of sweat sheathing your face.

"Oh, you can bet your sweet little ass I will," he spat back, raising the knife to your chin. "This is it. Say your prayers, er whatever ya want."

The stained metal pressed coldly into your skin and, for a second, you accepted your fate.

A third pair of steps was finally heard bounding upstairs. The bedroom door flung open, revealing a flustered Bo.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed upon finding your state. His attention turned to his brothers with obvious confusion: "Lester? Vince? The fuck?"

"Bo, we finally got 'em!" the youngest brother interrupted.

Bo instantly reached up and squeezed Lester's elbow until he dropped the knife.

"Ow! Goddammit, the hell is wrong with you?" Lester cried, clutching his arm.

"And you," Bo said shoving Vincent in the shoulder, causing him to fall back against the wall. "You just stood here and let it happen?" He raised a fist to strike Vincent again, but you couldn't bear to see more violence.

"Bo! Stop!" you demanded. All eyes were now fixed on you; everyone's cumulative frantic breaths kept the tension level high. Bo slowly relaxed his fist.

"What the fuck's got into you?" Lester asked Bo accusingly.

"I, uh... well... nothin's got into me!" Bo stammered. He straightened his posture and squinted at Lester.

"This just ain't like you, man. They're perfect for the collection - just look at 'em." Lester nodded his head in your direction.

"That's why we can't! We can't... do it." Bo sat beside your restrained body and let his head fall into his hands. Vincent stood to his normal towering position and approached Bo tenderly to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you really goin' soft on us? On Mama?" questioned Lester with the same sour tone.

"Well, Mama ain't here, now, is she?" Bo replied distantly.

"... collection?" you squeaked.

"Come on, brother! Just finish the job," Lester said, thrusting the bowie knife into Bo's hand.

Briefly Bo glared up at his siblings, clutching the knife's handle with white knuckles. In what seemed like a second, he sliced off your bindings and stood as a barrier between you and the other two in the room in an effort to guard you.

"Try anythin' else, and I'll finish you," he growled.

-

Holy fuck, thanks again for waiting! As mentioned in another post: "I was sad... hehe!"

But can you believe Bo jumped to your rescue????? Real king vibes <3

-

Link to Pt. 14

[ruzek-halstead]

this thing

pairing: luke patterson x julie molina

julie's new assignment in her music program is to write a duet with a partner. her partner? nick.

a simple fic all about a jealous luke patterson.

“is it terrible that i want you all to myself?”

masterlist || ao3

When Caleb’s curse was broken, and Luke could finally touch Julie, he thought that everything would change.

It was no secret to anyone that they had a connection; it was evident in everything they did. And after their emotional embrace when they thought it was the end, he thought nothing else could go wrong. This was where he was meant to be, with Julie and his best friends by his side.

He was wrong.

Things slowly went back to normal. They continued playing local gigs, and Luke and Julie continued writing songs together. It was different now. They could touch each other, but they weren’t sure how to go about it. They mostly stuck to light touches; shoulders pressing on the piano bench, fingers brushing against each other or Luke throwing an arm around her shoulders when he got super excited about something.

It was a slow going process, but he was working on it.

Well, he was trying. But every time he made some progress, a roadblock would always come up.

Julie’s new assignment in her music program included writing a song; she had to write a duet with a partner.

“A duet?” Luke snorted. “Perfect. We can write one right now.”

Julie shot him an awkward smile, patting his arm so he halted on the piano keys. “No,” she explained. “I have to write a duet with a partner from my class.”

“Oh,” Alex exclaimed, wondering why she looked so nervous. “Are we finally going to hear a Double Trouble original?”

She laughed nervously. “No,” she repeated again.

“I can’t be the only confused one right now,” Reggie replied, “how is this conversation taking so long?”

Luke looked up at her from his position on the piano bench. “Yeah Jules, what’s going on?”

“My partner is Nick!” She exclaimed in one large breath.

Alex dropped one of his drumsticks, Reggie tripped over his amp cord and Luke pressed down harshly on the piano keys, resulting in a cringe from the whole band.

It was something out of a movie, honestly.

“Oh,” Luke murmured. ‘Oh’ is something you say when you are gifted socks, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say. “That sounds uh — like fun. Sounds like fun.”

Alex was sharing a look with Reggie, as Julie avoided Luke’s eye contact.

“Uh — when are you guys doing that?” Alex asked, trying to keep the conversation alive. It was too late; it was already way past the point of awkward.

Julie busied herself with grabbing her songbook. “He should be here soon, actually. Do you think you guys could — uh, disappear?”

Luke wasn’t expecting that to hurt as much as it did.

“Uh, yeah, we can do that,” he replied in a clipped tone. He moved away from the piano, grabbed his acoustic and shot a pointed look to Alex and Reggie. “Come on boys, let’s disappear.”

He didn’t wait for a reply from Julie to poof away.

Alex shot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. We’ll catch you later.”

Reggie wished her the best with the song and they both poofed away.

x

Julie wasn’t completely clueless. She could tell that Luke was a little bit put off by her news, and while she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, she knew that wasn’t normal Luke behaviour. Unfortunately, her mind was a little too preoccupied with Nick and the current song they had to write.

She was honest with Nick. She told him she had feelings for someone else, and he understood that. And now she had to write a duet with him? Most likely a love song? That just made things weird. And confusing.

But to her surprise, things actually went much better than expected.

She was used to writing songs with Luke, and only Luke; so, this was a completely new experience, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Nick was fun and understanding, and didn’t push her. Now that their feelings were out of the way, she could really see herself becoming great friends with Nick.

But then Luke poofed into the studio unexpectedly, and she wasn’t so sure.

Julie and Nick were sitting on the piano bench, and she was playing with the keys, trying to find a suitable melody. Luke was hoping Nick would be gone by now, but instead he was faced with Nick, in his place next to Julie.

It lit a fire inside of him.

“Well, isn’t this cute?” Luke exclaimed, a slight tease of sarcasm in his tone. “How’s the song going?”

Julie shot him a tense smile while Nick was looking down at her fingers splayed over the piano keys.

“Oh, right,” he smirked, “you can’t talk to me while Nicky-poo is here, or else he’ll think you’re a little crazy.”

Julie shook him off, focusing on the notes she was playing.

“So, what kind of song is it?” Luke was suddenly right beside her, in between her and Nick. She rolled her eyes, trying to refocus once again. “Does Nick even know how to play the piano? He looks pretty clueless.”

She huffed in frustration and caught Nick’s attention.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, looking at her in concern. Luke appeared beside him, mimicking his expression.

Julie gritted her teeth together. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine,” she explained, “I just have this horrible, annoying headache that won’t seem to go away.”

Luke placed a hand over his heart and pulled a frown. “That hurts, Julie,” he pouted, “but not as much as this. Does he really think these are good song lyrics?” He was looking over Nick’s shoulder, at the lines he’d scribbled into a notebook. “Jules, you can’t be serious.”

Her fingers pressed extra harshly on the keys. “Is he trying to write you a love song?” Luke gasped, crowding her space now. “Is Nicky-poo trying to express his love for you in a song? Is he really trying to do that with these lyrics? Because honestly, they’re worse than Reggie’s country so—“

“Oh my god!” Julie exploded, smashing down on the piano keys. The constant buzzing in her ears coming from Luke caused her to snap and within seconds, she was turning to Nick apologetically. “Oh my god,” she added, softer this time, “I’m so sorry. I —“

Nick shook his head, smiling politely. “No, it’s alright. I think I should go. We can meet up some other time.”

Julie watched him go helplessly. “Okay — I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it Jules, see you at school.”

Luke hopped onto the piano as Nick closed the door to the garage. “Finally, he’s gone! Honestly Julie, I think you can do better. Also, why is he calling you Jules? That’s reserved for the band only. Oh, and Flynn.”

Julie trained her murderous glare onto the boy sitting obliviously on the piano. “Luke, what the hell?”

“What?” He asked her thoughtlessly, reaching for his journal and flipping to a blank page. “We should really start on this new song; we have a show on Friday and the phantoms are expecting some new material. I think Flynn —“

“No Luke, what the hell?”

He just blinked at her.

“You knew we were writing a song! Why did you come back here?”

Luke merely shrugged. “I thought you guys were done.”

“And then when you realized we weren’t done, why didn’t you leave?” She asked angrily. He seemed so oblivious and nonchalant; it was starting to drive her crazy.

“This was just too precious to miss,” he smirked. “Plus, I figured you’d need help writing that song. No one does it like us, and his lyrics sucked.”

Julie stood up from the piano bench and started pacing. “Why are you being so mean? You don’t even know Nick.”

“I don’t need to,” he shrugged, “he’s clearly just into you and using this as an excuse to hit on you.”

She sent him a confused look. “What are you even talking about? Nick and I are just friends!”

“Sure,” he snorted, refusing to make eye contact.

Julie stopped in her tracks, turning to him with an amused, yet nervous expression. “Luke, are you — are you jealous?”

Luke’s head snapped up and his hazel eyes narrowed. “Jealous?”

“Yeah, jealous!” She argued. “You showed up here when you knew I was busy with him, you insulted him I don’t know how many times and you basically drove me crazy until I drove him away!”

Luke pursed his lips. “That sounds like a you problem.” Julie raised an eyebrow. “I learned that from Alex. You know what else I learned? He taught me what a ‘simp’ is but honestly, I really don’t get it —“

“Why are you changing the subject?” Julie asked in a demanding tone. She moved in front of him, where he was perched on top of the piano. “You’re acting like a jealous bo—“

Luke’s eyebrows raised up underneath his fringe. “Like a jealous what?”

“Like a jealous boyfriend!” Julie exploded. She threw her arms up in frustration, nearly hitting his knee.

Luke rolled his eyes and slipped around her and off the piano. “Okay, Julie,” he frowned, “I am not jealous. I just have a duty to save the world from terrible lyrics.”

“I was writing the song too. Are you calling my lyrics terrible?”

Luke furrowed his brows, pausing in his stride. “Wait, no. That’s not what I said.”

“Terrible lyrics. That’s what you said.”

“Yes, okay. That’s what I said but not what I meant,” he replied, looking extremely confused. “This conversation is getting away from me.”

Julie rolled her eyes, grabbing her songbook and heading for the door. “Good, because I’m finished with it.”

“Wait, wait — Julie,” Luke groaned, rushing to move in front of her and block her exit. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Julie pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Okaaaay,” he dragged out, the corner of his lips quirking up nervously. “That’s obviously not good enough.”

He waited for her to say something and sighed when she didn’t.

“Okay, yes, I was jealous,” he huffed, avoiding eye contact. “I just thought — I thought you were over him and I thought there was something here. You know,” he mumbled, motioning between the two of them, “between us.”

“Luke,” Julie sighed, “Nick and I really are just friends. He asked me out and I said no, and he’s okay with that. We’re solely working on our assignment.”

Luke nodded, meeting her eyes in an awkward glance. “Oh.”

“You have no reason to be jealous,” she grinned, “you’re still my favourite song writing partner.”

He puffed out his chest, leaning back against the door with a charming smile. “I better be.”

They spent the next moment staring into each other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I acted like an idiot,” Luke apologized quietly. “Is it terrible that I want you all to myself?”

Julie rolled her eyes, attempting to mask her sudden shyness. “Not when you say it like that.”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour for your next writing session,” he replied with a cheeky smile; Julie raised an eyebrow. “Right, yes. I’ll be sure to be nowhere near here.”

Julie shook her head, laughing and pushing against Luke’s shoulder as she walked away. It was still unusual to be able to touch him, even for little things like shoulder touches. But now that she could, it happened without her even thinking about it.

“But seriously, can we write our song now? I’m feeling extra inspired.”

Julie rolled her eyes, but made her way to her seat beside him on the piano bench where he was waiting expectantly. “Why is that?”

“Because I have this thing with this really beautiful girl, and I think it’s about time we wrote a proper song about it.”

[softkuna]

playlist

›  𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

›  𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

  Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

  🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

  As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

  You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

  By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

  But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

    Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

  A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

  As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

  “-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

  “Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

  “Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

  Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

  The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

  College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

  You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money.  You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

  Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

  He pulled you you between the seats for a  bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

  “You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

  “You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’  

  Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

  “Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

  “-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

  He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

  “Guys… what are you-“

  A record scratch.

  I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

  “You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

  “Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

  Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

  The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:  

  “'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

  The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

  The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

  Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

 It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

  It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

  Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ  TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

  You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

  “Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

  Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

  They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

[gracegriller949]

Shining Devotion

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: DinLuke, Luke Skywalker/Din Djarin

A/N: Read the full fic on Ao3 here

Chapter 3

The Mandalorian grunts in shock as Grogu retracts his hands from under the helmet and promptly collapses on top of him.

After a beat of silence, Luke watches as Mando slowly rises from the table, cradling Grogu in his arms. The Mandalorian turns to Luke as if to question if he knew what happened. Mando most likely only saw confusion on Luke’s face since it took him a second to realize that he should probably close his gaping mouth.

Just then, a sudden, soaring pain rips through Luke. He keels over and slumps down into the chair closest to him. The adrenaline must have worn off. Great.

Mando reacts quickly to Luke’s pain by throwing his legs over the side of the table and setting the sleeping Grogu down carefully on the surface. He grabs the Bacta spray that Luke left on the table and swiftly kneels in front of the Jedi.

“I’m... fine,” Luke grunts out, reaching his hand out to stop the Mandalorian “I can... I can do… it.”

He slumps back into the chair again as a wave of chills wash over him.

“Mmhm,” the Mandalorian grunts in return. “Take off your shirt.”

Luke just stares at the Mandalorian, dumbfounded.

“Take it off, or I will.”

Feeling his cheeks warm, Luke looks down at his black robes to find a large hole that has been cut into the left side of his shirt. Carefully, Luke untucks his shirt and pulls one hand out of the sleeve to roll the shirt up to his neck. After its tucked under his chin, Luke looks back down at his side to find an angry red cut about the size of a Tooka-cat’s leg laying against the crisscrossing patches of white scars that cover the rest of his body. Luke hisses as the kneeling Mandalorian places a gloved hand on his side and leans his head in to take a loser look at the wound.

“Looks like you cut yourself on some glass,” the Mandalorian observes. “It’s pretty deep. I’m going to need to get the shards out before I can heal you. Do you have a cauterizer?”

“In… the Medkit,” Luke huffs as he points in the direction of the crates.

Mando gets up smoothly to retrieve the cauterizer. On his way from the Medkit, he sees Grogu still lying on the table and quickly scoops him up to deposit him in his hammock before kneeling again next to Luke, cauterizer in hand.

Placing his hand back on Luke’s side, the Mandalorian starts his work on getting the tiny pieces of glass out of his cut.

Luke’s fingernails dig into his palms as he braces himself against the pain coming from his side. To distract himself, Luke decides to unload a couple of the questions that have been circling in his head since he first saw the Slave I.

“Why were you in the Slave I alone? Where’s Boba Fett?”

“Fett’s dead.”

That catches Luke off guard.

“F-Fett’s… what? He’s…” Luke splutters as he takes in this new information.

He jumps a little as the Mandalorian zaps at his wound. Mando looks up from Luke’s side to make eye contact with him through the helmet.

“Fett’s dead. He died protecting me.” Mando’s voice is neutral, completely devoid of emotion.

This confuses Luke. Surely the two were friends, right? Why else would the Mandalorian be on his ship? Luke looks straight into the Mandalorian’s visor, trying to gauge his emotions before Mando averts his attention back to the task at hand.

Luke grimaces again at the pain, this time shooting out a hand to steady himself on the Mandalorian’s pauldron. If Mando minds, he doesn’t say anything.

“What happened?” Luke asks softly.

The Mandalorian is quiet for a few seconds and just as Luke thinks that he’s not going to respond, Luke hears a shaky inhale coming from the modulator.

“We were on Mandalore. Fett and I had just gotten back from a mission regarding some business on Tatooine. We were rooting out an imperial refuge that was hoarding Mandalorian artifacts. When we got back to Mandalore, I went to discuss the mission with my adviser, Bo Katan, but we were ambushed by a group of her clansmen. We fought as hard as we could, but Fett didn’t make it out.”

Luke flinches again as the Mandalorian continues his work. He tries to take in what Mando just said, but it seems that with every question the Mandalorian answers, more appear in their wake. Questions like: Who is Bo Katan? Why does Mando have an adviser? How did Boba Fett die? Luke grits his teeth and waits a beat before asking: “How did you get out?”

Mando stops zapping Luke’s wound and takes another close look at it before continuing with the cauterizer.

“She let me go. Bo Katan. Fett and I were almost to the ship when one of the clansmen shot him point blank. Dumb Keck jumped in front of me. Bo Katan came in after me. She told me that there had been an uprising and that they were after the darksaber. She told me to run and gave me the coordinates to Grogu’s location. Wasn’t long until I realized the ship was compromised. It was all I could do to limp here from Mandalore”

Luke takes in this new information. Trying to take his mind off the pain in his side.

“Why did she let you go?” he asks.

The Mandalorian shakes his head as he leans his head toward Luke’s wound to get a better look.

Luke takes the hint and changes the subject.

“What’s the darksaber?”

“It’s a laser sword that was wielded by a Mandalorian years ago and has been passed through the hands of many rulers of Mandalore.”

That gets Luke’s attention. Darksaber? Like a lightsaber… but dark?

“And you have this saber in your possession meaning that you…” Luke trails off, putting the pieces together.

The Mandalorian turns off the cauterizer and sets it on the ground next to him. He scoops up the Bacta spray and points it at Luke’s wound before spraying it carefully up and down the cut. Luke squeezes his hand that still rests on the Mandalorian’s pauldron, grimacing at the chilliness of the Bacta.

“That should heal in a few minutes.”

Mando gets up from his knee and crosses his arms as he leans against Luke’s table. The table looks miniscule in comparison. Luke gulps thickly and murmurs a ‘thank you’ to the Mandalorian before moving his arm to slip it back into his shirt sleeve.

“So… you’re the ruler of Mandalore.”

The Mandalorian nods once.

Luke can feel the questions buzzing around his head like a bunch of flies on a piece of trash. His eyes look past the Mandalorian and land on the tiny brown bundle sleeping behind him.

“Did you know that he could do that?” wonders Luke.

The Mandalorian follows Luke’s gaze to the sleeping child and sighs through his modulator. Mando uncrosses his arms and strides over to Grogu’s crib to gently rock the hammock.

“I think you better get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning,” he says.

Luke doesn’t feel tired, but he knows the Mandalorian is right.

“But where will you sleep? I wasn’t exactly expecting guests,” says Luke, a slight squeak coming into his voice at the realization of just how unprepared he is for the Mandalorian to sleep in the hut.

“I’ll just sleep outside. You got a fire pit?”

Luke nods.

“That’ll do. Goodnight, Jedi.” Mando says as he makes his way towards the entrance of the hut.

“Luke.” He says, “You can call me Luke.”

The Mandalorian pauses, hand on the curtain that covers the opening of the hut.

“Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, Mando.”

The Mandalorian nods and disappears out the entrance to the hut. Luke gets up slowly from his chair, his mind still racing from the events of the night. Luke limps slowly over to his shabby bed and lays on top of the covers. He glances over again at Grogu. His questions were still circling around his head, but they were just going to have to wait until morning.

-

The next morning, Luke wakes up feeling way more refreshed than he should.  It’s probably the damn Bacta spray.

At that thought, Luke pulls his shirt up to feel where his wound is. Or more accurately, where his wound <was>. His fingers brush the area to find the wound has healed perfectly.

Luke sighs softly and looks around the room. He sits up straight as his eyes land on Grogu’s empty hammock. Just as he’s about to panic, there’s a rustling at the door as the Mandalorian moves the curtain to the side to step into the hut, brown bundle in hand. He offers a nod in greeting as he moves to set Grogu down in his favorite chair.

Luke watches as Mando reaches into one of the pouches of his utility belt and pulls out a silver ball and sets it in front of Grogu. The child takes it and coos happily as his father rubs his head lovingly.

Luke’s heart jumps into his throat as he averts his gaze. The events from the night before come flooding back to him. The ship crash, the Mandalorian, the rescue, the child; all of it. Luke remembers the Mandalorian’s gloved hands on his side, and feels his stomach flutter at the thought.

It feels strange to have the Mandalorian here. Luke thought that maybe he would see the Mandalorian again, if only for him to visit his son, but Luke never thought that he’d be in a situation like this one.

He looks back up at the Mandalorian, now sitting across from Grogu.

“How does your head feel?” Luke asks, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

Mando turns his helmet towards his son.

“It feels like nothing ever happened.”

Luke follows his gaze to Grogu and once again, the question about his student’s power comes into his mind. Thinking back on it from last night, Luke realizes that the Mandalorian wasn’t surprised about Grogu’s power.

“He’s done that before hasn’t he? Healed someone.”

The Mandalorian nods slowly.

“I’ve only seen him do it one other time. I don’t know how it works. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Luke shakes his head.

“I have never seen something with that kind of power, nor have I even heard of it. I’m afraid I am terribly underequipped with Jedi teachings to know the full extent of the Jedi ways.”

The Mandalorian looks up at that.

“I thought you were a Jedi. Do you not have the same powers?”

Luke shakes his head again.

“I never even knew Force healing was possible.”

“Force… healing?” asks the Mandalorian.

“Yes. Somehow Grogu can use the Force to heal people.”

“How is that possible?”

“As I said, there is a lot about this subject that I don’t know. I would need Jedi texts, teachings of when there was a Jedi Order.”

The Mandalorian nods as he continues to look at Luke, his gaze slipping down to where his wound used to rest.

“How’s your side?”

“Good as new, thanks to you,” says Luke, a small smile coming to his face.

“The least I could do after you saved my life.”

That makes Luke pause, his easy smile faltering for a second.

“It was nothing,” he says, looking shyly at the Mandalorian.

The two men stare at each other for a long beat of silence before Luke breaks eye contact with Mando’s helmet and crosses the short distance to the conservator. He knows that there’s nothing in it, but he opens the door and looks inside, nonetheless.

“We don’t have much in terms of food, but can I offer you a nutrient bar?”

The Mandalorian sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“I had something earlier. Guess there isn’t much fresh produce on Yavin-4?”

Luke closes the door to the conservator and grabs a nutrient bar from the storage container before turning back to the Mandalorian.

“There’s not much of anything left on Yavin-4. Not ever since the end of the war and the Rebellion vacated the planet. I’ve found a few scraps here and there that are left, but I haven’t had time to search much further.”

Luke leans against the counter and takes a big first bite out of his nutrient bar.

“I’m thinking about going back to the crash site today, see what I can salvage,” the Mandalorian says, turning back to watch Grogu as he makes his silver ball float just above his face.

“I’ll go with you,” Luke says, moving to grab some cookies from the storage container.

Mando nods as Luke sets the cookies down in front of Grogu.

“Shouldn’t he eat some real food before dessert?” asks the Mandalorian.

Luke sighs, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Well, if you can convince him to eat something that isn’t cookies or fresh meat, be my guest.”

Mando sighs but doesn’t do anything to stop Grogu from crunching on the little snacks.

“I’ll get him some meat, if I can find something to hunt with,” the Mandalorian says, “I need to get to the ship to find my weapons.”

Luke nods.

“We’ll leave after lunch then.”

[chadillacboseman]

Tired of Being a Fighter - PART ONE

Pairing: Axe Woves x F!Reader (no actual pairing in this first part!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Violence, death.

Summary: Bo-Katan has become a woman obsessed with taking back the Dark Saber and will stop at nothing to reclaim it. Things come to a head, violently, one night, and Axe makes the difficult decision to leave her service. Left with no path and no oath to honor, he is unsure of what to do with his life until a fateful trip to Nevarro...

A/N: Did I write this to explain why he was absent in the finale? Maybe. Did I have to desperately try not to write with a bar as a setting?? Also maybe. Enjoy.

This will likely be like a three or four parter 😬

----

The night was cold on Lothal, and the streets were bustling with those returning home from their jobs at the local factories and warehouses. From his rooftop position, Axe could see the building he had been assigned to watch- waiting for their target to enter so that he could signal the other Nite Owls to begin the assault. In the alley below, a figure moved through the shadows and approached the large warehouse door before rapping, loudly, four times in a distinct rhythm.

Axe trained his night vision on the figure- a Rodian, eyes nervous and darting as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. Axe tapped his comm unit on and hailed Bo-Katan.

“Target is here. Looks nervous-”

The door opened with a pneumatic hiss and the Rodian entered a dimly-lit room. Axe could make out at least three figures inside before the door shut and the sound of jetpacks rumbled behind him. Bo-Katan and Koska landed softly on the rooftop, their armored boots surprisingly soft on the concrete.

“Where is he?” Bo-Katan’s voice crackled through her vocoder, impatient and full of venom as usual.

“Inside,” Axe had grown accustomed to her vitriol, “At least three others in there with him.”

There was silence for a moment before Bo-Katan spoke again.

“We’ll blow the door open, take them by surprise. Keep the Rodian alive, but kill the others.”

There was no point in arguing with her, Axe knew that by now. In her quest for Moff Gideon and the Dark Saber he carried, she had become reckless and gripped with an all-consuming rage. Since they had taken down the Imp cruiser on Trask, the missions had become more dangerous; Axe found himself patching wounds and repairing his armor more often than he liked.

But Bo-Katan pushed them harder each time.

Axe knew tonight would be no different. He hardly had time to think of the possibilities as his two companions leapt from the rooftop and jetted down to the alleyway. Axe landed behind them as Koska placed an explosive charge on the door and set the timer for ten seconds. As she hit the igniter, the three of them jogged for cover behind the opposite building. The beeps of the charge grew more rapid and Axe braced himself; there was a half a second’s pause, then the door erupted into pieces with a bang that shook the street.

“MOVE!” Bo-Katan gestured to the door and they moved quickly, drawing their blasters and engaging their thermal visors. Through the smoke, Axe could see four figures huddled near the center of the room, and one on the floor closer to the door. A blaster shot clipped through the smoke, narrowly missing Axe’s helmet, and he dove for cover behind a shipping crate as his companions followed suit. The haze began to clear and Axe glanced down at the figure on the floor- a human, dressed in the clothes of a warehouse worker, emblazoned with the Torrent Industries logo. A civilian.

“Shit-” Axe muttered under his breath before reaching out to grab the civilian by his boot and drag him behind the cover. He was still breathing- likely knocked unconscious by the blast.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bo-Katan screamed from her cover, blaster fire singeing the wall opposite her as their targets continued to fire on them.

“It’s a civilian!” Axe shot back, pausing to lean out from behind the shipping crate and return fire at the figures now visible through the fading smoke. One of the figures let out a yelp and fell to the concrete floor with a thud.

Axe silently prayed that he hadn’t just shot the Rodian.

“I’m moving out-” Bo-Katan moved, crouched, from her cover with Koska in tow. Axe engaged his jetpack and lurched forward, bursting into a jetted sprint. The smoke had cleared and he could see the Rodian now, crouched near a starship turbine.

“I’ve got the target!” Axe lifted from the ground with a leap and tackled the Rodian to the floor as Koska and Bo-Katan engaged the other three. He stood up and drug the target to his feet, producing a pair of stun cuffs and latching them to the trembling Rodian’s wrists. The last assailant fell to the floor with a strangled grunt and Bo-Katan turned her attention to Axe and his captive.

“Please-” the Rodian’s voice was brimming with fear, “Whatever you want-”

The butt of Bo-Katan’s blaster caught him in the jaw and sent him crumpling to the floor with a cry of pain.

“You know why I’m here, aruetii,” her voice was barely more than a whisper, filled with seething hate, "you helped to secure arms for the Empire."

Axe reached down and hauled the Rodian up by his jacket, planting him on his unsteady feet.

"I know you worked with Moff Gideon. And you will tell me where to find him." Bo-Katan moved closer to the trembling quarry as she spoke, her black visor trained, unwavering, on his face.

The Rodian let out a humorless chuckle, "You think I'd betray the Moff? Do you have any idea what he would do to me?"

Bo-Katan took another step forward and unsheathed her vibroblade, moving to hold it under his chin.

"It's nothing compared to what I will do to you," she tilted her helmeted head slightly, as though analyzing him, "have you ever seen a heated vibroblade at work?"

Bo-Katan ignited the blade and the Rodian's eyes flicked to it, nervously, as it began to thrumm and grow hot.

"A skilled Mandalorian could dismember their quarries entirely-" the blade glowed, ember-hot, in her grasp, "without letting them die."

The Rodian began to tremble at her words, and Axe tightened the grip on his jacket in case his legs gave out.

"The beauty of a vibroblade is that it cauterizes the wound as it makes it." Bo-Katan's visor was just inches from the Rodian's face, "So you won't bleed out before I finish."

She turned her visor to Axe, "Woves, hold him down." Axe obeyed without hesitation, moving to pin the Rodian on a nearby workbench.

"Wait-" the Rodian's voice was a strangled cry, tinged with hysterical fear, "I'll tell you!"

A chuckle cracked through Bo-Katan's vocoder and she sheathed the vibroblade. "I knew you would see reason. Now tell me-" she grabbed the Rodian by the front of his jacket and pulled him to his feet, "where is Moff Gideon?"

The Rodian produced a datapad from his jacket pocket and with the press of a button, a holo-projection of the planet became visible. "Here-" he used his fingers to zoom to a set of coordinates on the northernmost sector, "They have a hidden base built into the mountainside. Some kind of weapons lab. Lots of troopers and an AA gun on the roof."

"You made the right choice," Bo-Katan unholstered her blaster as the Rodian's eyes flicked between the three of them.

"I can go now, right?" His voice shook, but held a tinge of hope, "I mean, you got everything you w-"

The blaster shot hit the Rodian's chest point-blank and he dropped to the floor in a heap.

Bo-Katan retrieved the datapad from the floor as the smell of singed flesh filled the room. "We have our location. Let's go-" her words were cut short by a rustling sound from the front of the warehouse. The civilian was on his feet and moving toward them.

Bo-Katan drew her blaster and the civilian raised his hands to show he wasn't hostile. "He's a civilian- wearing a Torrent jumpsuit." Axe put a hand on her blaster, attempting to lower it, but she didn't budge. "I said he's a civilian-, Kryze," Axe raised his voice slightly as the worker froze in place, his arms still raised above his head.

"How do we know he wasn't part of this?" Bo-Katan's voice was steady- cold and calculating.

"I'm just a warehouse worker!" The civilian cried, "I worked late tonight- I had no idea what was happening. When the door blew it knocked me out and-" before Axe could stop her, Bo-Katan fired her blaster, striking the worker in the chest and sending him to the floor with a strangled cry.

"Haar'chak!" Axe cried out before he could stop himself, "He was a civilian! He was surrendering!"

Bo-Katan shrugged and holstered her blaster, "One less loose end."

"No-" Axe moved in front of her, anger burning hot in his chest, "You've gone off the deep end, Kryze. When this first started, I was with you. But you've lost your mind!"

Bo-Katan poked a gloved finger into his chest and shoved him backward, "If you're not with me, you're an enemy to Mandalore, Woves." She spat the last words out like a Voxyn spitting venom, and Axe knew she meant them.

"If this is how you plan to rule Mandalore, I want no part of it." Axe pushed her hand aside and moved closer, so his helmet was mere inches from hers, "And don't you dare try to stop me."

"If you do this, you abandon everything we have worked so hard for! You abandon your duty to your fellow Mandalorians!" Her voice was filled with her usual self-righteous fervor, but Axe had heard enough.

"I abandon nothing, Kryze. But you have abandoned reason, and you will pay for it."

Axe pushed past Koska and Bo-Katan and made his way through the doorway into the cold Lothal night.

---

TAG LIST FOR AXE:

@djxrxn​

@jango-fettish​

@lestrange2703

[jngles]

Thoughts You Definitely All Asked For on ‘The Mandalorian’ Season 2 Finale!!

These are in chronological order for the show.

One of my biggest fears about them reintroducing Boba Fett was that by removing some of his mystery, they would make him less cool. Thank god that has not been the case. He’s still an aloof and nasty piece of work but with dimensions added.

We all know the Empire is most often a metaphor for America right? At least when it’s not being Nazi Germany? The Imperial pilot talking about destroying an entire planet (of peaceful weaponless civilians no less) to stop terrorism hits a little too close to home of the nuclear bombs the US has dropped and the endless destruction of the Middle East in the “war against terror.” And of course we frame all our wars in similar language like “our troops died to keep our country safe,” which hasn’t really been true since WWII.

I do think it’s worth noting that this is the first time SW has had someone acknowledge the human losses of the Death Star blasts. Usually it’s framed as a loss in construction time, strategical advantage, and power. The Empire proved time and time again that the lives of its soldiers were utterly expendable, which always made me question why people remained loyal outside of fear. Through this pilot’s phrasing, you can see the propaganda Imperial superiors used to twist the truth to their followers, always blaming those deaths on Rebel aggression instead of prideful Imperial neglect (I.e. not abandoning ship when there was still time) or even direct Imperial aggression like Operation Cinder where they fired on thousands of their own (discussed in S2E7.)

You can’t tell me Din wasn’t into it when Cara shot that asshole pilot. That cold faced revenge shot? 100% Mandalorian style, and also very very hot.

I appreciate that it was a pretty equal match between Boba and Koska Reeves. So much of Boba’s advantage comes from his suit, but since she also has one, it’s a battle of wits on how to use it, and they even out. This both maintains his legendary badassery and also that of highly trained Mandalorian warriors, and hopefully avoids asshole chauvinist SW fans on the internet complaining abujt “pandering to feminism” (fuck off @ all of them, especially since Mercedes Vernado who plays Reeves is a WWE champ and could kick all of your asses.)

Din point blank asked how many Death Troopers there are and Dr. Pershing never answered, and that annoys me.

Why is no one suspicious why Dr. Pershing is being so helpful and revealing so much information? He totally did not have to tell them about the Dark Troopers or any of the specifics of locations on the ship. He’s still with the empire post-fall, implying he’s a loyalist, so... wtf on his part (since no tricks come of it), and “be smarter” on the part of everyone else. Unless he’s been captive as a clone engineer all this time. But couldn’t he have made his escape back in Season 1 when Din killed everyone at that lab to get the kid back?

Bo Katan really could’ve just told them how the retrieval of the dark saber needs to work in the flight before the mission instead of being vague about “he belongs to me.”

Boba Fett’s usage of “Princess” and “don’t worry about me” are a good throwback to Han Solo and the culture they both grew up in. You can never quite tell if it’s based in misogyny or resentment for upper classes, but both of them seem to use it as a shield for begrudging respect they hold for a woman they think is brave but following a fool’s errand (the Rebellion and retaking Mandalore).

The Comms Officer (Katy O’Brian) assisting Moff Gideon will forever and always look like Ilana Glazer to me, and then I get swept up imagining what would happen if the Broad City cast accidentally got transported to Star Wars.

The launch tube sequence has some amazing cinematography.

The second I saw Boba was cut off from the pack, I really thought they were going to kill him again and make his return bittersweet. Glad they didn’t.

God this team of Bo Katan, Koska Reeves, Fennec Shand, and Cara Dune is SO BADASS. I’m just obsessed with all these characters and their various motivations to get shit done. I honestly didn’t even think about the fact it’s all women until my re-watch, showing that the writers made it feel natural, the way women deserve to have their representation done. You can bet I am SO EXCITED for my future daughter and the wealth of possibilities she’s going to have of characters to play pretend as, action figures she can relate to, Halloween costumes to wear, etc. It’s so validating that we’ve gone from only Princess Leia as a female main character to all these women + Rey, Jyn Erso, Ahsoka, etc. etc.

Can’t wait for the trap remix of the Dark Trooper activation noises. (And the transition from that to the minimalist flute theme is perfect.)

The spy movie version of the main theme music is sick.

The Dark Trooper droid faces have a lot of similarity to Darth Vader’s mask. That callback is especially apparent when the one is literally lit from the inside with fire. He was already a martyr/legend to the Imperial remnants, Kylo Ren didn’t start the trend of ignoring his redemption.

Cara’s “excuse me” right before shooting up Stormtroopers is hilarious. Literally “can’t talk rn, doing hot girl shit and murdering space Nazis.”

Finally an Imperial ship got some frickin security cameras. Truly- the amount of times people just wander down hallways they’re not supposed to be in with no one being able to find them throughout the course of Star Wars is ridiculous when you think about the degree of surveillance our real life society carries out. I also love that this means The Mandalorian characters have also seen The Mandalorian.

The storytelling does such a service to Pedro Pascal and his already heroic efforts to portray emotion through a helmet. For example: Din easily could’ve killed the one stormtrooper outside Grogu’s cell much more efficiently, but instead, to show his absolute rage, they wrote in Din choking him out with a spear.

Moff Gideon would have been the BIGGEST pain in the ass in philosophy class. “Assume I know everything” my ass. I want to hear about his backstory (he would’ve been “coming of age” at the time of the Clone Wars) mostly just to hear about him getting bullied at school.

Smart move honestly, to try to tempt Din with the Mandalorian throne, given the Mandalorian power struggles of the past. Proud of our boy for keeping his priorities straight.

So has the blood from Grogu been transferred out of the ship and back to the remnant empire already, or do they have to find a new “donor” to help with building Snoke and Palpatine’s clones? Will they continue to go after him with Luke?

Lmao Din being so annoyed by Bo Katan being stringent about the tradition of winning the Dark Saber through combat is HILARIOUS, coming from a man who up until like a day ago hadn’t shown his face to a living being in decades.

The dark troopers can punch in blast doors but NOT Din’s helmet?? That’s a wild testament to beskar. Somehow that’s the comparison that sticks out to me, more even than its resistance to lightsabers.

This show works because of the cynicism of so many characters adding contrast to the moments of heart. Cara Dune is not a “fan” the way Rey was (for the record I love Rey, don’t come at her, it’s just different). Cara doesn’t see an X-Wing and go OMG THE REBELLION I LOVE THEM. She’s been through too much to believe in the magic saviourism of the “good guys,” and is instead thinking strategically when she, the one Rebel present, brushes off the usefulness of “one X-Wing.” The only positive things she seems to feel in battle situations are moments of relief and brief satisfaction in hurting the empire, with a dark knowledge that it will never make up for the hurt they did to her.

How do you keep a cloak hood on while fighting? Both from a technical standpoint (my hats fall off without me even having to move- is he expending force energy just to keep it on and look cool lol?) and also because idk, maybe it’s just me, but peripheral vision is helpful when surrounded by killer robots on a thin bridge above oblivion. I know his first lesson was to “see” through the force, but every resource helps, right?

Now that she has the ship, I wonder if Bo Katan can reprogram any salvageable Dark Troopers to help with retaking Mandalore?

There is nothing like seeing Luke’s fighting style, with its efficient choppiness and twinge of darkness. I always wonder how much is natural and how much is influenced by his first fights with Vader (that Skywalker diva flair). I love how they’ve advanced his technique but also kept him extremely “grey” here- like to straight up COMBUST a Dark Trooper takes some violent energy lol.

How tf is Moff Gideon alive after threatening Grogu’s life twice directly? That’s a wild testament to Din’s regard for Cara.

I love how seeing Luke slice through a bunch of murder droids like butter probably was a huge point in his favor for Din actually letting Grogu go with him. Like he will only send his child to boarding preschool if he knows the teacher will be a certified killing machine.

Oh my god they finally brought in some OG Star Wars theme music for Luke to take his hood off to 😭 It felt weird seeing him fight to different music, so the emotional payoff is huge when his themes come back for the face reveal.

Whoever added the digital young Mark Hamill face NAILED those classic shining Luke eyes and the earnest eyebrow lift.

Whoever shines the glass of Baby Yoda’s lil puppet eyeballs each day deserves a raise. The light caught in those babies is devastating.

Din is shaking as he takes off his helmet. This is the most enormous show of love he could give him, and possibly the last he’ll be able to for a long time. He only just got Grogu back and is desperate for a moment of real connection before letting him go once again.

This is the first time anyone has touched Din’s face since... likely his parents as a child.

Whoever wrote this scene clearly actually has kids. Anyone who’s ever had to leave a young child even just to go out for a bit or to drop them off somewhere knows that heartbreak of seeing them look in your eyes and hold on to your leg, trying to keep you with them. Especially when they can sense your mutual separation anxiety. The one thing that starts to make them feel better is something fun like a new toy or friend who can be their guide in the new environment, and R2’s friendly introduction is exactly that (since digital Luke isn’t being particularly emotive or child friendly... I hope that’s just because he’s reaching into Grogu’s mind while also keeping an eye on the multiple people with guns trained on him, not because he’s going to be totally unfeeling raising this kid.)

I love that Grogu and R2 are immediately buddies in contrast to Episode 5 when R2 was like “fuck this guy” @ Yoda stealing food and hitting him with a walking stick lol. I would imagine Luke must be reminded of that first introduction too and entertained by this display of playfulness in a *positive* light between R2 and mini-Yoda.

I need to know if Luke and Ahsoka have met- it is KILLING ME.

Does this mean Grogu will get killed by Kylo Ren when he fucks up Luke’s academy??? I will reincarnate Ben just to kill him again if that’s the case.

How does Luke not even fully SMILE at Grogu?? An adorable little baby version of his beloved master Yoda, and you’re telling me he doesn’t have the same heart stopping gasp we all did when we first saw him?? Maybe he did when they first connected through the force. He has a bit of bemusement on his face, and also wonder in his eyes, but I want a grin of recognition and welcome, dammit.

I really wish Luke had somehow acknowledged Cara Dune. Everyone else seems to see the tear drop Rebel sign and know it means Alderaan. He could’ve been like yo I have a badass warrior sister from your planet that you should meet. Or just “thank you for your service.” (I know this actually wouldn’t have been cinematically good but my heart wants it.)

Luke didn’t tell Din his name?? Or ask for any details about the kid and his care?? I could literally never let my kid go with someone, regardless of how worthy, and not be like, “Excuse me sir who are you and where tf are you taking my tiny beloved green goblin in case I need to find him? Here is my contact info. He likes to eat frogs and eggs, and he can have macarons as a treat. He’s 50 years old and his favorite toy is still a ball. Bedtime is 8pm and he’s allergic to dairy.”

Another reason I wish Luke had identified himself would be to see the mishmash of reactions that would ensue. Cara would be like DAMN IT’S THAT GUY WHO BLEW UP THE DEATH STAR AND KILLED THE EMPEROR, ACT COOL (and she would indeed act cool). Fennec would be like ugh it’s that guy who helped kill my best paying client Jabba the Hutt and then fucked over my boss Boba, I helped save the kid for THIS? And I would LOVE to know how Bo Katan feels about him, assuming she’s heard of him, and especially if she knows he’s Anakin Skywalker’s son. That confusion is probably the reason WHY the writers didn’t have him reveal himself- they didn’t want to break the emotion of the scene.

Let‘s all be real I’m just being needy about wanting things from Luke because of what he meant to me as a kid and my resulting innate need to have more canon of him, whatever it is, whenever I can get it. Especially in this form that’s so similar to ROTJ, a movie I watched on endless repeat. Even getting this was incredible though. Who else could we trust this lil heart-stealing green bean with so fully? Yet who would be so arrogant as to try to train a baby yodling (see: Ahsoka’s wise refusal)?

R2 is reckless as hell lmao. Not that we don’t already know that, but for him to just head on in, effectively abandoning Luke’s ship (how can they know if there are more troopers or not who might blow it up?) and also putting himself in the path of the ridiculously deadly Dark Troopers is NUTS. I’m usually on his side but he absolutely deserves a scolding by C3PO for this one.

I wonder if Grogu has any memories of R2 or vice versa since they did occupy the Jedi Temple at the same time. Can Grogu understand droids? They could swap stories about mutual acquaintances.

Does Din pretty much have to go with Bo Katan now since a) he’s shown his face and may not be able to go back to the Watch, and b) because he has the darksaber and has to figure out how to get it back to her without dying?

How in the hell did Bib Fortuna (whose chins age was not kind to) go from being butler to being boss? Were all the henchmen just like, “Fuck yeah, no Hutt parents no rules, let’s do what we want!!” And then they’ve spent the last ten years living off of whatever money they could salvage from Jabba’s non-banked wealth? Why has no one challenged them for that prime real estate and loot? I would love to hear that story.

Fennec Shand says “respect sex workers” so you better fuckin’ do it.

Idk dude Bib Fortuna really was a good butler, and he seemed pretty willing to comply with whoever’s in power. Did he screw Boba over in his attempt to return from the dead and earn that killing shot somehow? Or was this to make sure there was no one left who would have a claim to loyalty? Or maybe Boba just really wanted to sit in that chair.

Does “The Book of Boba Fett” mean we’re not on Din Djarin’s story anymore? Or is it a new show? I would much prefer the latter. I want to see Din help retake Mandalore or at least get a hug.

[loser-writings]

Helloo, hope you're doing well. Are you taking requests for best jeanist? If you do, can you do Omega Best Jeanist who was actually pregnant with a pup when AFO blew a hole in his stomach and then alpha reader didn't know that he was actually pregnant.

Heyyo! So heads up, i had to change this request slightly, I hope you don’t mind! In canon, Hakamata gets hit in the lung and loses it, so I couldn’t think of a way to transfer that in a way where he would lose his lung and his baby. I hope this still works though!!

TW: Miscarriage, depression, severe injury, spoilers for S3 Episode 9

Tsunagu Hakamata, better known as pro hero Best Jeanist, was actually thrilled when he found out that he was pregnant. Despite never actually sitting down and discussing pups with you, he knew that you would be more than accepting and would be thrilled about the news. He instantly had a thousand and twelve ideas on how to tell you, but for now he decided to keep it a secret. Just until the drama started dying down and you could stop worrying so much about him. 

He doesn’t tell anybody about the pregnancy, instead deciding to just keep to himself as time went on. He did take notes of how the alphas seemed to subconsciously react to him and how the Omegas were quick to ask if he needed anything. He wouldn’t lie, He absolutely adored the obedience and attention. Even more so when it came from his favorite Alpha when he got off work for the day. 

He walked into his shared apartment with you only to be greeted with your warm scent, instantly forcing a purr out of his omega as he entered the house and stripped himself of the layers of denim before rushing himself to the bedroom so he could change. Normally, he hated wearing sweats but today was an exception. After throwing on the baggy pants and a fairly large blue T-shirt, he made his way to you. 

You were trying to cook for him, a habit you had started since he always seemed to work late, and only noticed him after his arms wrapped around your waist. You didn’t really react to it though, only leaning back more on him as he pressed his nose against your scent gland.

It was always so peaceful when he got home, yet he couldn’t help but notice how you seemed to be more attentive to his wants and needs. He wouldn’t complain though, simply smiling and relaxing as you massaged his sore hands while watching some shitty reality tv. His soft and deep purrs only only mixed with yours, causing him to completely melt with all of the attention. He wished every day could be like this.

That was never the case though.

The next day, Katsuki Bakugo was kidnapped by the League of Villains. God help anybody who passed by Jeanist in private, because he seemed extra uptight. Despite his disapproval of Bakugos behavior, he was still a child that looked to him for guidance. The Omega in him was absolutely panicking because in his core, Bakugo was a child he actually wanted to see thrive, and knowing he was in the Leagues hands only made him more stressed by each passing second. 

When they finally ambushed the league, His body was on high alert. Any noise had him ready to react, like prey under the eyes of a predator. It was only when he finally saw him, All for One, that he let his body snap. 

Within seconds, The man was tied up but Jeanist couldn’t react. This man just made his stomach roll and for a split second, he felt his mind switch to the baby before quickly moving to the situation at hand. He watched the man, ignoring Mt. Ladys words until he saw All for One move ever so slightly. Within a blink of an eye, Jeanist was able to toss away the heroes and take the majority of the blast, unknowingly pushing his body to a breaking point.

It wasn’t until he was laying on the ground, struggling to pick up his head, when he knew he had fucked up. His body was in survival mode now, focusing just on surviving, yet he had to continue to fight. He is a pro-hero, and pros don’t make excuses for failure.

As he tried to sit up and attack once more, a sudden piercing pain through his body caused him to gasp for breath. He had no clue what was happening, but he knew something was wrong. As he collapsed back on the ground, his body went to overdrive despite him passing out.

When he woke up, he instantly felt the aching in his chest. It was intense and strong, forcing a weak chirp from him as he tried to move around. His body felt so heavy, he had begun to panic but one soft word was enough to calm him down again. It never failed to surprise him. How one simple “Omega?” could cause a wave of comfort to wash over him.

As he moved his head, he could see your panicked face and could only smile. It was a small, yet genuine smile that was a weak attempt to comfort you. Even now, in a hospital bed, he still was pushing his hero persona instead of himself.

“Tsunagu, don’t do that,” He could only grin, albeit more genuinely, when he felt your hand caress his cheek. “You know I hate when you try to hero me.” He did know that, yet he couldn’t let himself relax just yet. 

“Did...We win?” He asked you softly, voice weak and pained as he tried to take a deep breath only to feel pain instead. Another pained chirp left his chest but he didn’t react to it, instead just wanting an answer. He heard you sigh which made him chuckle and cough, yet he gave you a comforting look as he waited for your answer.

“Bakugo is safe...and All Might has retired. He defeated All for One, but I can’t really say if you guys won. If I’m honest, my darling, I think we may be in for one hell of a fight.” Your tone was so calming, so comforting, almost as if you were delivering this news to a pup. A pup-

Oh shit. His eyes snapped open as he suddenly felt a wave of Nausea come over him. His pup- No your pup- fuck, wrong no “Our pup” he labeled in his head as he pressed his hand to his stomach, eyes widening as the familar ache returned to his chest. This wasn’t from All for one, but instead his Omega constantly clawing at him to notice what was wrong. He knew, deep down he knew, yet he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Your voice distant, yet slowly pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hakamata.” His head snapped to you and he saw concern once again, quickly shoving his emotions back down in order to calm you. Yet he didn’t fall for an idiot. He fell for somebody who knew him well enough to know something was up. “I’ll be okay...I promise” He lied once again, god he hated lying to you, but he was a hero first and a man second. He needed to be strong once again for you.

You stayed by his side until he was released from the hospital, yet he had to stay at home so he could adjust to his new handicap. Having only one lung was hard at first since he would get dizzy easily and had to learn to slow down, but being forced to stay at home also gave him with you. Normally he would be thrilled at the thought of being with you, but now? God, looking at you was bitter-sweet.

You were still the same alpha. The same one he fell so deeply in love with years ago. The same one who sat by him as he climbed up the ranks as a hero and waited for him until he felt secure enough to give himself to you. You were still the same alpha whose eyes sparkled when he said your name. You were still the same alpha who would give him the world if he were to ask. And knowing that you would do anything for him, even forgive him for failing to deliver the baby you had given him, absolutely destroyed him.

At first, you had just assumed it was just Tsunagu being stubborn since he was always one to complain about making excuses, just wanting to do things himself. But then you noticed how he would shut down and refuse to talk to you, something unusual since your Omega had always been great at communicating with you. It was starting to make you worry, but you refused to push your concerns because the more you pushed, the more he would push back with his hero persona.

After about a week at home, Hakamata woke up feeling heavy and completely emotionless. He didn’t know why, but the thought of moving caused severe pain to shoot through his limbs and the loudest chirp he had ever released to escape his chest. At first, panic shot through him. He never chirps and that was such a loud, distressed chirp. Why was he chirping? Why wasn’t his body letting him move? Why wasn-

“Omega?” Another wave of comfort washed over him as his mind went blank. All of his worries left as soon as your voice hit his ears, yet he felt so guilty once you came into view. You were so concerned, and he could tell just by your eyes. He hated worrying you. 

“Honey...Something is wrong. You need to tell me.” You forced him into your arms, yet he still refused to move, only letting out another distressed chirp before he finally noticed it. His scent was burning horribly, enough to make his own face cringe in disgust...Yet you remained calm as your hand found its way over the Omegas hip, softly massaging circles into it as you tried to help comfort your mate.

After what felt like an eternity, Hakamata finally felt himself starting to let go. Let go of all of the control he worked so hard to keep together. Let go of all of the shit he forced down, and it all started with one single tear. He didn’t even notice it until it was dripping down his cheek only to be followed quickly by a sniffle. 

He could smell the shift in your scent and subconsciously pulled himself closer to your neck, whimpering as more tears suddenly fell. He could tell you were surprised but quickly adapted, wrapping your arms gently around his trembling form until he was as close to you as he possibly could be. 

You never pushed him to explain what was wrong, but just let him get the words out on his own. Slowly but surely, he told you about the pup. How he found out he was pregnant and was just so happy because he finally was going to give you the life you deserved and the life he always dreamed of. He was in the top 10. He was successful and financially stable. He was finally ready to give you both the family you had desired, yet he forced you to wait for until he was ready. 

Your heart broke hearing the news and he could sense the shift in your scent, but you never got aggressive or mad. Instead, you wiped his tears and gave him a long, gentle kiss. He wasn’t even sure if you could call it that since he was sputtering and crying while you pressed your lips to his, but he couldn’t deny that you trying to comfort him made his heart swell once more. 

Slowly, you explained to him that you are proud of him. Proud that he tried to stay strong and proud that he did everything he could to make sure you were happy, but now he needed to let go and let himself grieve. Tsunagu nodded and wiped at his eyes, now swollen and red from crying, but he smiled when you complimented them once again. 

After his breakdown, he slowly let himself recover. He allowed himself to take a moment and slow down, enjoy his time with you. Instead of being the 3rd top hero: Best Jeanist, he allowed himself to be Tsunagu Hakamata. He let himself open up to you again, talking to you about possibly trying for another pup in the future when things calm down and he feels secure enough again. He let himself have his imperfections, god he knew his cooking was one of them, and he finally let himself relax with you. You let him sleep til noon if he wanted, You didn’t care that when he woke up, his hair was a mess and his breath was kinda funky. You still loved him and treated him like a prince.

When it comes to the pup he had lost, he refuses to let himself dwell on it. After you bought a small stuffed wolf, Tsunagus favorite animal of course, he let himself move on from the loss. It sits on his desk back in his office for many people to question yet never ask about, but he uses it as a reminder for what he is working for and why he is a hero. He wants to help make the world a better place. A world where he can come home to you and your pup after a long day. 

Until that day comes, He will do everything he can to try to make the world a little bit better.

[meridiansdominoes]

Brothers

OK I WAS IN AN ANGSTY MOOD AND I STARTED WROTE SOMETHING SHORT ABOUT JESSE AND MAUL SO HERE

I don't know if we'll find out why Maul let Jesse live in an upcoming episode, or if it'll turn out that it literally means nothing, but I kept seeing posts on tumblr about why Maul didn't just kill him and decided to write something

or I guess you could read it on ao3 too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902564

Warnings for mind-torture! 

Maul tears through his mind like a rancor through flimsi, smashing aside Jesse’s weak protests with terrifying ease. His presence burns. Like someone’s set a white-hot coal on the top of his head and is just letting it burn its way down, deeper and deeper into his brain. It’s a bright, piercing agony that Jesse can’t get away from, no matter how much he struggles against the Mandalorian forcing his arms behind his back. 

The Sith wrenches his mind wide open and starts picking away at Jesse’s memories. Jesse cries out, because every time Maul grabs at something, it sends a fresh lightning bolt of pain through his entire nervous system and leaves him shuddering, gasping for air and jerking to try and throw himself backwards, distance himself from torture. They don’t let him move. 

His memories of Commander Tano, of the child she was and the warrior that she’s become, are laid out for the Zabrak to see. There is a moment where Jesse, in one last desperate attempt to protect her, rallies what remains of his fragile mind and grabs onto a memory at random, struggling to pull it away from Maul: Commander Tano, sparring fiercely against General Skywalker in the Resolute’s hanger as Torrent Company cheers and calls out commentary—Jesse shoves out mentally, teeth clenched so hard that his jaw hurts, and somehow manages to slow the Sith’s invading will. It doesn’t do much, but for an instant, Maul pauses.

“Be still,” he says softly—gently, like he’s trying to sooth Jesse into compliance. The tone sends a shiver down Jesse’s spine.

And then Maul’s mind slams into Jesse’s with the force of a falling meteorite, and Jesse howls as mental blades tear the rest of his willpower to shreds.

He loses track of things after that. Maul denies him any semblance of control, and it burns, it hurts and Jesse can’t get away. 

He stops trying to fight, after a while. It doesn’t do any good, just makes the pain shift from glaring red to white-hot and he can’t stop little helpless whimpers from falling from his lips. If it goes on for hours or mere seconds he can’t say, because Maul takes his mind apart and pulls out what he needs, memory fragments sending shards of fire through Jesse’s brain as they’re misplaced and every sensation of time is lost.  

It’s nothing short of violation. Jesse feels used, like everything that Maul touches in his mind is suddenly contaminated, covered in dark sludge that dull the light of fond memories. 

He barely even notices when Maul stops because his head is throbbing, too full of pain and sharp edges for him to even see two feet in front of him. No one is holding him anymore—they don’t need to, he can’t even move. The trembles racing down his spine make him hurt enough as it is, he doesn’t dare rise from where he’s slumped on his knees.  

 His temples ache. He can’t even bring himself to react when a pistol is shoved up against his chin, only groans in agony, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Sir,” the Mandalorian says, waiting for the order to kill him, and Jesse knows he’s about to die. Know it with such certainty that it shuts him down, and he lets his weight sag, head bowing in resignation regardless of the gun underneath him. 

He closes his eyes and tries to think of something better. Tries to think of Kix (gone, disappeared off the face of the galaxy and no one cares enough to search, no one knows where he is—), of Rex, of Vaughn, of Sterling, of his brothers, because he had wanted to go out surrounded by them instead of here, on his knees in front of a kriffing Sith with enemies all around him—

“Wait.”

Maul’s voice sends cold terror through Jesse’s body. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the red-black blur in front of him and moans when an invisible force approaches his mind again. Jesse pants desperately for air, panicking as it looms closer. He can’t. He won’t survive this again. He can’t he can’t it hurts—   

“N-no, stop—!”

Jesse writhes, fingers scrabbling across the smooth metal beneath him, seeking purchase even though there’s none to be found. It does no good. Maul forces his way into Jesse’s mind again without resistance. Jesse goes limp, shivering helplessly on the floor and wishing for death. He can’t stop it, can’t fight. Maul’s presence still burns, but the sensation is a little more subdued this time.

What more could Maul possibly want? He already has Jesse’s memories of Commander Tano. There’s nothing more for him to take.

Maul’s presence gives off a vague sense of curiosity that makes Jesse let out a horrified groan. The Sith reaches for memories again. Jesse jerks as they flash in front of his eyes—

Umbara, drowning in horror as he stands to be executed and Kix points a rifle at him. 79’s, downing shots with the rest of Torrent, laughing too hard, surrounded by brothers and safety. Ringo Vinda, awful and numb as Tup guns down a Jedi. Saleucami, joking with Rex as they’re reunited after the Captain’s brief excursion. Umbara again, mind screaming in denial as Hardcase orders them to leave, dragging the explosives with him and Jesse knows that it’s a one-way trip and Hardcase is going to die—

Maul’s presence recoils slightly at the last one. A groan is torn from Jesse’s throat as Maul retracts, too fast too forceful Force it’s like someone’s pulling nails from his head. Jesse gets a brief flash of an image that he’s never seen before—of a Zabrak, not Maul, eyes flashing, tattoos gold where Maul’s are red and—what—?

Maul leaves him. Jesse is shaking. He curls himself up on the floor and tries to make himself as small as he can, fingers clutching helplessly at his skull in a futile attempt to protect it. He chokes for air, each breath dragging audibly against his lungs. The sound is painfully loud in the silence of the tunnel.          

“Just kill me already,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “Just kill me. What else do you want?”

A hand settles at the back of his skull. Not for the purpose of comfort, just… there. Jesse freezes.

“Tragic,” Maul says softly. “So loyal, so fierce. And yet… the time fast approaches when it will be used against you.”

Jesse imagines twisting and sinking his teeth into the Sith’s hand. The idea is tempting, but he still hurts too much to try. 

“I had brothers once,” Maul says. Jesse swallows, trying to decide if he’s imagining the fragile grief echoing through those words. Maul lets go of him, steps back. Jesse waits for a lightsaber to slash through him, for the Mandalorians to finally finish the job, but no one moves. 

“Get him up. He will accompany me to the throne room,” Maul announces. 

“Sir,” a Mandalorian acknowledges. Jesse pants through his teeth and struggles to stay conscious as they tug him to his knees again, too kriffing fast his head swims and his vision blurs. Kriff.   

Later, when Jesse has collected his wits a little more, when he’s shoved to kneel next to an ornate throne, when there are binders tight around his wrists, he struggles to comprehend what he’d heard. 

I had brothers once. 

Commander Tano shows up, with Bo-Katan and Rex in tow. Jesse thinks that surely, now he’ll die. But Maul releases him. Jesse is broken, barely able to stand by himself, a painful drumbeat pounding through his head, and he half expects to get cut down before Rex can reach him—Rex, whose face goes terrifyingly blank when he sees Jesse, eyes dark like he’s already expecting Jesse to die and mentally preparing himself to lose someone else.

“There you go, back to your brothers,” Maul croons, and for an instant, Jesse gets it. 

I had brothers once. 

He stumbles into Rex’s arms and grunts out an apology to the Commander, who’s eyes narrow as she looks him over. 

“Rex, get him out of here,” she orders, turning back to the Sith. Rex doesn’t need to be told twice. Jesse can feel the Captain’s hands trembling on his shoulders. They make their way through hallways in silence save Jesse’s labored breathing. Once they’re a good distance away, Rex guides Jesse to sit down, back against the wall, and runs his hands over Jesse’s body, checking him over for injuries. He won’t find anything but bruises. Jesse isn’t injured in the way they usually see. 

“Force, Jesse,” Rex mutters shakily. “Kriffing—I thought—”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Jesse knows what he would have thought. Jesse himself has thought it many times, and it normally doesn’t end like this. He offers Rex a weak grin. 

“Takes more than a kriffing horn-head to get rid of me, sir,” he rasps, and Rex fakes an eye roll, pulling Jesse in for a hug. Jesse is one of the last surviving members of the original Torrent Company, and he can’t help but think that it would have destroyed Rex had Jesse died at Maul’s hand. 

They’ve lost far too many brothers in this war. Jesse thinks of Maul again, shuffling through the memories of Jesse’s brothers curiously and then—

I had brothers once. 

Jesse doesn’t know how to interpret that, exactly. Maul has killed clones before. The sudden bout of empathy doesn’t make of lick of sense, but Jesse is alive anyway, holding on tight to Rex, his brother, and he’s so relieved that he almost forgets his pain. 

It’s an odd thing, to be grateful towards your torturer. Jesse feels it more for Rex’s sake than his own. 

An explosion rocks the building. Rex lets go of Jesse, expression hardening. 

“We’re getting you to medical, and then I’ve got to get out there,” he states, looking Jesse over again. “You alright?”

Jesse almost laughs. It’s hard to even think right now. But he’ll be alright. He has to be alright, because there’s no place for broken soldiers in this army. 

“Yeah,” he says, and does not think of Maul, does not think of the gold-black Zabrak in Maul’s head or the way he’d placed a gentle hand on Jesse’s neck and whispered of twisted loyalty. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

[canumoveurseatup-no]

front row seats

part two to listening party - please read warnings before continuing to read, don’t read if any of those warnings bother you.

summary: why listen when they can just watch? and maybe even... participate?

pairing: bruce x black!reader (18+ as always), avengers x black!reader 18+

wc: 3k (did this on mobile so sorry for no ‘keep reading’ tan)

warnings: NASTY NASTY NASTY!! Please be 18+!! age gap, exhibitionism (fuckin in front of the team), voyeurism (the team watching you get fucked), creampie yet again, crying kink again (bc i’m a submissive whore and love it when ppl make me cry during sex), choking, daddy kink, crude language, squirting, masturbation, rough sex, subspace, toe sucking (not a fan of it but wanted to try writing it lmao), oral (male and female both receiving), anal play, orgy tendencies

a/n: just noticed i reached 3000+?! wow, it still amazes me that i even have followers at all and lovely people who appreciate my work. i hope y’all know i mean it when i say i love y’all bc you’re encouraging a passion of mine, thank you so much!

———————

“Okay but before you head off to fuck the night away...can we watch this time?,” Tony was not afraid to be blunt. He said what everyone else was thinking

“Tony, you can’t just ask people to watch them go at it!.” Steve was completely appalled by Tony’s actions but he was hoping deep down you and Bruce said yes

“Well everyone’s thinking it! My ‘listening party’ file is filling up. I demand front row seats,”

“Okay.” You and Bruce look at each other and just shrug. They’ve heard enough to make a whole playlist- might as well give them a mental visual download.

Sam’s eyes widen and he sits up straight in his chair, “Woah, seriously?,”

“We’re comfortable enough with ourselves to put on a show,” Bruce’s hand rubbed circles on your back which had you leaning into him.

Bucky was the first to stand up, rubbing his hands together, ready to get this show on the road. “Well slather butter on my ass and call me a turkey, this is great!,”

You snickered and shook your head, taking Bruce’s hand to lead him to the bedroom, “Barnes, don’t ever say that again,”

—————

“But I want that seat!,”

“No, I sat here first!,”

“Natasha, mooooove,” Tony stomped his foot like a child before just deciding to take the chair from under her and sitting in it. This would give him a perfect view of all angles.

“I’m gonna find your listening file and delete it all!,”

“You wouldn’t dare!,”

“Would y’all sit down and shut up!,” Sam had taken a seat by the window that way he’d have a good side profile view of you. Thor sat with a beer in his hand beside Wanda at the left corner of the bed, Bucky and Steve sat beside each other by the closet, they were farthest away, but the view was still perfect, Natasha, Clint and Tony sat at the foot of the bed, lined up like three musketeers.

The bickering stopped when they heard a sweet whimper fall past your lips. Your back was against Bruce’s chest and you held a body wand against your sensitive clit, Bruce kissing your shoulders and neck while twisting, pinching and tugging your nipples.

“Want you to get your pussy nice and wet for everyone, okay dove?,”

Your hips buck up into the head of the wand as you turned the vibrations up, “y-yes Daddy,”

“Oh she kills me with that,” Tony sighs to himself. If only you were calling him that. Tony wanted you so bad, more than anyone else if he did say so himself.

“Keep playing with that pussy, baby. Get yourself all slippery and creamy for us,”

Your hands shook as the realization hit that you were actually being watched. It not only terrified you but turned you on all in the same breath.

“Oh she’s about cum already, I can smell it on her. It’s delicious,” Thor takes a swig from his beer and cleared his throat while his eyes remained glued to your glistening heat.

“Is he right, dove? You about to cum?,” Bruce pinched your nipples harder making your moans fall on their ears like a beautiful symphony.

“Gonna cum,” you confirm.

He flicked the switch higher and your legs shook harder as you fought your body to keep the wand against your clit. You were easily overstimulated but you loved it due to the euphoria subspace brings in the midst of it.

“Gonna be a good girl and show them how cute you look when you cum?,”

Everyone was still surprised with the way Bruce talked to you. So encouraging yet sweetly nasty.

They all had their eyes glued on you. Not sure whether to keep their eyes on your pussy or your facial expressions, an internal conflict they all had to fight because both were sinfully enticing.

Bruce’s hands pin your thighs down as you threw the toy to the side once you started to cum. Their jaws dropped when they saw gushes of clear fluid coming from you. Your body convulsing as gush after gush came. Squirting right at the foot of the bed where the three sat.

“Oh Jesus,” Sam whispered to himself

“This... is why I wanted a front row seat,” Tony pointed to the wetness on your comforter.

“I can die happy after seeing that,” Wanda whimpered.

Right along with Wanda, you whimpered as well as Bruce wrapped a hand around your throat and fingers entering your soaking pussy. The wetness was explicit as it made sloppy noises while he finger fucked you. You couldn’t catch your breath with him choking you, you didn’t want to.

“Harder, Daddy!,” wanting it all. You moved against his fingers and clasped your hands over his to get him to squeeze your throat harder. You wanted your pulse to pound like ceremonial drums.

Steve was entranced with the way your eyes fluttered. So genuine and overtaken with pleasure, he watched the way your little toes curled, you were about to cum again.

“Who wants to finish her off?,”

“Me!,” Thor shot straight up and moved across the bed. Everyone groaning at themselves for being too enthralled in you to realize what Bruce asked.

He removed his fingers and held them to his side

“Can I taste her then?,” Wanda asked, eyeing Bruce’s dripping fingers, she was parched and only you could quench her thirst.

Thor pushed two of his thick fingers deep in you. Seemingly already knowing how to make you explode.

“You’re so warm,” Thor sighed to himself. Tony was jealous. He wanted to touch you or taste you. Hell all of them did, but Tony? He was willing to fight for it, as childish as that might seem. You were like a siren and he was a sailor falling for your song.

Thor moved to the side so everyone could see him pushing you to the edge. Wanda looked you right in your eyes as she sucked you off Bruce’s fingers and it happened again, your eyes couldn’t stay open, it sounded like you had water in your ears as you let out a moan that could put wolves howling at the moon to shame.

“Yes, Don’t stop, little dove,” Thor encouraged. You were about to clamp your thighs shut but Bruce wasn’t having it.

“Be a good girl and keep that pussy on display,”

Tears began running down your cheeks already, a little smile showing on your lips as you began coming down.

“She’s a cryer? They’re my favorite,” Clint groaned to himself. He loved pushing his lovers the edge of ecstasy, he loved pushing them over that hill to get their minds blank, cumming so hard they cry.

He wanted to make you cry.

Thor retracted from you but not before placing a kiss on your cheek, “You really are a good girl,”

He took his seat by Wanda and sucked on a finger to experience your essence. It was like drinking sweet, refreshing cranberry juice on a hot day. He let Wanda suck you off his other finger and you shook at the actions.

You didn’t have time to comprehend it though before Bruce moved from behind you to position himself between your legs, knelt at the foot of the bed, right at Tony’s feet. Bruce pulled you closer until his nose nudged your clit and he laced his fingers with yours.

“You hungry?,” You teased. Bruce was a sucker for eating you out. He made sure to every time, he relished in your taste.

“Always,” you felt his wet warm tongue graze your clit and your nails dug into his hands. You were dripping, two orgasms prior, you couldn’t help it. Your legs were raised and toes curled as he buried his face in you.

Your toes brushed Tony’s legs and it sent blood rushing to the head of his cock. Your coral painted toes looked beautiful against your brown skin. He took your foot in his hand and massaged it watching you before taking his next bold step and sucking your first two toes in his mouth.

Your breath hitched and you sat up on your elbows, eyes wide, watching him suck on your toes like a fudge pop before it melted. It was a sensation you never felt before but damn it had you giving Bruce more arousal suck up.

“Daddy you eat my pussy so. fucking. gooood!,” your head fell back against the bed and you fucked yourself onto his tongue, “Especially while Daddy Tony sucks on my toes,”

Bruce has no idea what was going on behind his back but he gauged your reaction, realizing you must like whatever his best friend is doing to you, even if it’s new.

Tony kisses up and down your calf while massaging the soles of your foot. You were pushed to another orgasm when Bruce sucked and nipped at your clit and Tony sucked your pretty, clean toes back in his mouth. You looked him right in the eyes as you came. More tears rushing to your eyes and falling down your hot cheeks as you came with a loud cry.

“Fuck!,” you’re left panting and dazed. Bruce crawls over you and kisses the shell of your ear before whispering,

“Been dying to see you get sloppy while sucking another cock... so pick one,”

You’re in shock. This went from everyone wanting to watch to everyone getting a go at you. But hey, you weren’t complaining. Not like they all weren’t pining after you.

“Sammy,” you huff in a confident breath, “I want Sammy,” you said loudly.

He heard his name and his eyes widened like deer in head lights, “Sammy what?,”

“I want you to fuck my mouth,”

“You sure?,”

He knew you and Bruce didn’t have a label but shit you might as well. He didn’t want to cross boundaries.

“I let a literal God finger fuck her and Tony sucked her toes,” Bruce sat up off the bed and motioned for Sam to take his spot. He undid his pants in a flash and you got right to business. Your face in his lap, ass up in the air, everyone wanted to either eat you or fuck you.

“Nat?,” Bruce said from behind her. She didn’t even look at him, she was too into the way you were gagging, too into the way spit dripped down your chin. Sam was having a field day and he was about to cum easily.

“Yeah?.”

“Go ahead and get a taste,”

She crawled on the bed toward your waiting pussy, your inner thighs were shiny from your pussy dripping cum. You felt her tongue on your thighs and it was much softer than Bruce’s, it tickled almost. She moved her tongue against like you were a melting scoop of ice cream ready to fall off the cone.

Then she went for the gold and it had you gagging more on Sam, he didn’t even have time to warn you that he was cumming. He felt bad that it shot straight down your throat but you swallowed it welcomly. You could tell he had a balanced diet just by the taste and you loved it.

Natasha position herself right under you so you were sitting on her face. You were so caught up in the feeling of her tongue that you didn’t even hear Bruce tell Bucky to get a taste too. Bucky was a major ass kinda guy. Everyone knew he loved your ass, so it didn’t surprise anyone when he straddled Natasha amd his tongue met hers as he licked from your clit all the way to your ass.

“You guys are killing me,” you had your head hung low and a pillow clenched tight in your fists. Sam finally stood up, his legs still feeling like jelly, went back to his chair to enjoy you lose your sanity.

“She likes sucking fingers, do your best,” he slapped Steve on the shoulder and when you felt his strong hand gripping your face you fell apart.

“Open up, dove,”

You followed the Captain’s rules and happily sucked his thumb while he palmed himself through his lounge pants. He loved the way your lips wrapped around his finger. Sucking like your life depended on it. Then he removed his thumb and thrusted his middle and finger in, making you gag just to see those pretty tears. Your gagging caused your walls to tremble around Natasha’s fingers and the way she moaned against you had you leaning into Steve’s fingers more. Then you felt a cool, slick metal finger push through your tight ring of muscle and it had you rearing back from Steve’s fingers to face plants in a pillow as you cum again.

“Oh keep cumming for me, Dove,” Nat didn’t hesitate to slurp you up like the last remaining bit of a slushee. Bucky’s finger felt so good in you and he kissed your cheeks. Your body fell limp and everyone pulled back from you.

“Daddy I need you,” you really just needed him in your guts right now.

Bruce realized the only one who didn’t get anything out of you was Clint, but in all honestly Clint was fine with just watching right now, another chance would arise.

Bruce came back over to you cradling your body in his before moving you on your hands and knees so you faced the team.

“You okay? What’s your color?,” his hands soothes over your hot body and he easily calmed you down.

“Hot pink,”

Hot pink meant you were great and right on the edge of subspace. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your clit, collecting some of your juices on him.

“Fuck, look at you. You like it when I let the team have turns with you knowing they’ve been wanting you?,”

He didn’t even let you answer before plunging in deep. A deep gasp from you filled the room.

“You liked feeling someone else’s mouth on your pussy? Someone else’s finger in your ass, dove?,”

“Oh my God,” You bit your lip and let your head fall on the bed until you felt someone’s hand lift your face. It was Tony.

“Be a good girl for us and keep that head up, yeah?,”

“Answer him,” Steve commented

“Y-Yes yes!!,”

Wave after wave of tingles had your stomach coiling as Bruce had your hips in a tight grip, getting as deep as he can. He was so deep he hit your cervix, it hurt a bit, but it was a good hurt that had you ready to cum and maybe black out from so many orgasms.

“You liked having another heavy dick in your throat didn’t you? You liked feeling a God’s fingers deep in your greedy cunt didn’t you, dove? You love people relishing in your fucking taste? Huh? Is that why you’re so fucking soaked for daddy?,”

Your vision was a blur of tears, Tony moved his hand to your throat and squeezed, making you gasp. He loved feeling like he had power, “Answer your daddy,”

“Yes, yes I love it!,” your squeal echoes in the room and You have everyone either clenching their thighs or palming themselves to the point of blowing one.

“Oh, oh God, Daddy harder, I need it harder,” you begged, body ready to fall limp. You never could trust your strength in this moment because you did fall limp and Bruce laid right into you, fingers finding their way into your hair as he tugged.

“C-Clint,” you called out for him, “Smack me, please,”

Tony scooted back so Clint could kneel in front of you like a knight to a Queen.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry and beg,” he whispered, holding your cheek so gently but the slap he delivered didn’t match at all.

“M-more!,”

“She’s deep in it now,” Wanda whines, she could always tell when you were in subspace. Each time Clint slapped you, your pussy clenched Bruce tight, ready to milk him dry.

“Fuck, dove,” Bruce keeled into your ear, “You’re gonna make me cum baby,”

Bruce kissed all over your shoulders, spread your legs wide so he could see your pussy taking him in, he loved the way your ass cheeks and thick thighs rippled with each thrust he made.

“You let them touch you but whose good girl are you?,”

“Yours, Daddy. Only yours!,” you sobbed, “only your good girl, daddy,” hiccuping and ready to cum.

“Cum for me baby, be a good girl and let go,”

He kissed your wet cheek softly and for some reason that action pushed you over the edge.

You raise up in your palms and rear your ass back against him to hold him perfectly at that angle. The team shivers at the way your eyes roll back into your head, it puts a demon possession to shame. You’re whining and whimpering and shivering.

“I want you to cum in me, daddy. Pl-please,” you groan as he spanks your ass. He flips you over and pins your hands by your head. Your mouth is wide open in a silent scream as you see his eyes and neck turning green.

It should scare you, but it just has you opening your legs wider.

“Yes daddy!! Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

He just about hulks out as he cums with a sexy roar that almost deafens you. You’re staring up at him with a teary smile until you cover your face and let out a wail.

“Fuck! Th-thank you so much,”

He removed your hands from your face and kisses your tears away. Loving the salty taste they leave on his lips, “you’re such a good girl.” He calms you down with sweet words and a nice bath while the others set his room up the way it was before. He soothes you into a nap and goes to find the others once he hears your gentle snores.

“My glasses recorded everything, can I keep it or is that too much,” Tony sat with a glass of scotch and a bulge in his pants.

“That’s a Y/N question,” he shrugs, “She’ll probably want to watch it with you,”

The others still sit around dazed that all of that really happened. Sam’s legs are still twitching, Natasha, Thor, Bucky and Wanda can still taste you on their tongues and they can only hope to get more.

“How would you feel about...,” Clint shrugged, “Each of us having our own little solo fun with little dove?,”

————————

should i make a listening party series where everyone gets their turn?👀 lmk please

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG!!!

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[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 challenge 21 and 22 - Undercover and Red Sand

Summary: Alistair Shepard’s back at it at Krispy Kreme when a contact informs him about red sand on the Citadel. So... how easy is it to get into Chora’s Den when you’re wearing OTT Sweet? He’s about to find out...

---

Nothing like showing C-SEC up by blowing the lid off their latest red sand problem. If only it hadn't wound him up in interrogation.

“Alright, Commander... I can understand a Spectre shutting this down... but how?”

Alistair shrugged as he shifted his weight so the uneven chair didn't bother him. They had one main way of dealing with suspects, even the ones who had helped them out. Unlucky for them, he understood physics. After all, they drummed the basics into recruits during boot camp. Chairs could eat his ass – ironic, considering he was sitting.

“Well, I heard rumor of it, so I investigated and found out what was going on. The rest was easy with my squad.”

The C-SEC agent looked almost incredulous as they glanced at him from across the table. “And... how did you do that? We've been working to get someone in for months.”

“Oh... I went undercover.”

“Undercover?”

And here was the time to get creative. He couldn't give ALL his methods away. Besides, no way such a straight-laced C-SEC agent was going to believe this.

“Commander Shepard, it's been a long time since we've worked together. How are you doing?”

Alice was looking good. He still wasn't sure why they were meeting on the Citadel like this, however. Good thing he had brought her things along to return, otherwise he would've had to mail it the next time he was in port.

Ah, the life of a wandering Spectre. Never in one place long.

He sipped at his tea before he answered. It was good tea – strawberry. He liked strawberry, good to know she did too. It went with her outfit more than his, mind you – today's coord was OTT in pink and white. Not a bad look on her, definitely different than the mint-chocolate number in the bags by his side.

“As well as can be expected. I hope you haven't been bothered by anyone since I dealt with the Blue Suns.”

She smiled at him as she took a dainty nibble at a biscuit. “Not at all. Things have been quite peaceful, actually.”

That was great... but it didn't explain why he was sitting in a lovely little cafe, drinking tea with his sister's friend. There was something she was going to ask him, and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it much.

Maybe he should've just done it by text... it would've been easier to say no.

In the pause, Alice took another sip of her tea and daintily put the cup down without making a sound. Her eyes were on him, burning not with desperation, but determination. Something about that made his stomach shift, yet at the same time... well, curiosity didn't just get the cat. Sometimes it got hamster-handling Spectres.

“In the time since then, I've become aware of something on the Citadel. I come here every so often to shop. Omega unfortunately leans a little too Classic for my taste, though I do believe that it would be the perfect style for you-”

Nope. Taako was good out here, to quote the old 21st century classic.

“Anyway... during one of my trips, I happened to catch whispers of something when I stopped for a refreshment. I believe you know what red sand is, Commander Shepard?”

His eyebrow zoomed to his hairline. “How does red sand come up among lolitas?”

Alice put a hand to her mouth to hide her chuckle. “Why, it doesn't. When did I say I only associate among lolitas?”

Yeah... that was his mistake. Still, his mind was wheeling. If Alice had heard mention of red sand on the Citadel... just the thought of it made his stomach turn. It was the sort of thing she definitely shouldn't be around...

And he sure as hell shouldn't. After all, as a biotic that shit fucked him up six ways to Sunday.

“At any rate, I tried to contact the proper authorities about it. They laughed at me and dismissed it as ramblings of a little girl with an active imagination.” She sniffed. “Ignoring the fact my ID says I am almost 30, by the way.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they're a real crack squad.”

“Which is why I came to you. You know my information is real, and more importantly, you are a Spectre.” She took a sip of her tea. “You can get to places that C-SEC cannot.”

Both of these facts were true. Still, he didn't see why they needed to meet in person. For something like this, all he really needed was an email. More than that, Alice had the same tone she had used the first time she had asked him for a favor.

You know... when he wound up in the dress in the bag he was currently holding.

“Right, but... why do I get the feeling this is going to involve a petticoat again?”

When Alice smiled, there was nothing friendly about it. “I may have neglected to mention when I was in this establishment, I may have slipped to my acquaintance that a friend of mine was a gorgeous petite blonde with blue eyes and a taste in OTT sweet...”

Alistair's cheeks turned scarlet. “You set me up again?!”

“Well, you did it so well the last time...” her voice dropped. “Please, Commander. I know you know the danger of red sand. I heard about your accomplishment on Illium with the Justicar. C-SEC refused to believe me, and I know this was true. You need to investigate this for the good of every biotic in the Citadel.”

She had made a grab for his hand with this, her eyes shifting from crafty to pure pleading. Part of him wanted to believe this was an act... yet the gaze she was giving him was downright desperate. Alistair felt his resolve dropping away as he glanced down at the bags.

Good thing he had made sure these were properly cleaned and ironed...

“Where do I have to go?”

Alice smiled as she poured him more tea. “Have you ever heard of a bar called Chora's Den?”

“Yeah, I almost got shot there twice.” His voice was flat, his eyebrow even higher. “A lolita at Chora's Den is going to stick out.”

His contact chuckled as she reached for a biscuit. “That's the point, Commander. Now, you're going to need to be there by 22:00-”

Why did he get the feeling he was going to regret this...

---

“Commander, are you ready?”

Yes, he just needed to fix his petticoat.

Alistair had never expected to wear one ever again, and yet there he was. Apart from some new accessories borrowed from Alice to help with the change in fashion and season, it was the same damn dress, petticoat, and wig he had worn the last time.

The purse was different, though. Made hiding his gun and a few other tools easier should he need it.

“I'm ready, Alice, just had to make sure everything was sitting right.”

The line for Chora's Den was short that night as he approached with quick, even steps. The second time in rocking horse shoes was easier, not that he had practiced for the occasion or anything. He was just more confident this time as he made his way to the entrance. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo.

“Now, I told them my friend's name was Jane. You can fill occupation and hobbies in yourself, just remember that we met at Baby the Stars Shine Bright's store on the Citadel.”

He knew that brand – it was a classic. Not quite OTT due to the prestige of being one of the cores of lolita fashion, but it was famous. Hell, he'd watched Kamikaze Girls the first time he'd been preparing for a mission like this. A brand only lasted that long through staying power and appeal. It wasn't quite to his taste, but he could see how it had made it to the late 22nd century.

…

And now he was forming opinions on clothing brands. Shit. He was getting way too into this undercover work.

“Right... thanks for the ad-lib room.”

“Bo said you were an expert at it. Now, I'll let you know when I see them. This contact camera is amazing, did you really design it yourself?”

Alistair had to resist a chuckle as he waited in line, pretending like he was taking a call on his omni-tool. “Oh no, it was a customization of an existing design that didn't quite meet my needs. I could show you the fabric when I get back tomorrow.”

Alice was a smart woman – she caught on quick. “Impressive. Is this what working what a Spectre is like?”

Oh, she should see him when he had tech in his hands. That's when the magic happened. His contact cam was just a fruit of that effort from having to go undercover one too many times. After all, he could hardly rely on cameras where he went half the time. It was better to have one on hand that was constantly being saved to his hard drive on his computer back on the Normandy. There was also a backup version Alice would have, and a second version on his omni-tool. You could never have enough backups in case things went wrong.

Some might call him paranoid. They could kiss his ass, he had died once before – you could never be too careful.

“Excuse me, sweetheart, I think you're lost. The Tea Room is up a ways.”

There was a man leering at him. The outfit had definitely turned him off, so his only reaction to what he perceived a woman was scorn and minimizing. Alistair had seen this plenty of times before, and dealt with younger versions in his teens. Luckily, it didn't bother him.

So he shot them a blank, dignified look down the bridge of his nose as he walked past. “I do believe the line is back there. Chora's Den isn't fond of nobody line cutters last I checked.”

The man's friends laughed as he sputtered. Naturally, an assault to his identity would prompt a desire to beat the shit out of the one who had caused it. The question is, would he go after someone in a dress and petticoat?

Looks like the answer was yes – he was leaning forward.

“Why  you little-”

With a swift movement, he had the man off balance and knocked on his ass. Then he kicked as a reminder to stay down. It wasn't hard enough to hurt anything seriously – just well aimed. It left his annoyance groaning on the floor.

He gave the friend group a blank look as he kept walking. “I would advise keeping your friend on a leash. I think he's in heat.”

Then he entered Chora's Den under the eye of a more than amused bouncer and with the chorus of a bunch of already drunk men. They were quickly drowned out by the music of the club and the energy that surrounded it.

It looked a little different since Fist had been running it. Cleaner maybe, though probably just as corrupt. There were still dancers of various council species, and those who enjoyed watching. These he gave a wide berth, making his way to the bar. This was the same person- he hadn't seen their body when they had cleared the place out. Smart woman.

“Nice going with the guy out front, honey.” She gave him an appreciative nod. “Saw it on the cams. What can I get you?”

He smiled, carefully. “Please tell me you have some form of sprite here. I don't exactly drink, but I'm here to meet someone.”

The bartender laughed as she reached under the bar. “Last time I heard that, Commander Shepard was still on his first life. It's why I carry the stuff. Here, I call this the Red Shepard. It's got a little grenadine in it for color.”

…

Apparently, there were drinks named after him in bars. Who knew? At least it seemed to be the designated driver special. He was happy to accept, though when he tried to pay she shook her head. Part of him was worried it was his borrowed credit chit, but then she smiled.

“You did us a favor, honey. The bouncer almost threw out his shoulder tossing him out. Drinks are on the house tonight.”

Well, that was good for him. He smiled and went off to find a place to sit so Alice could get a view of the floor. Though the music was loud, his ear piece had a noise blocking feature he was more than happy to turn on. When it came down to it, he just didn't like night clubs. Add in the dancers and he liked them even less.

If they were dudes... well... he probably would've been too embarrassed to stay long.

“See anybody yet, Alice?”

“No, but your performance outside the Den was impressive. Was that aikido?”

He smiled as he sipped at his drink. “I picked it up in basic because I was smaller than everyone else and got tired of getting my ass kicked.”

“A friend of mine learned judo for the same reason.”

Good to know someone else was kicking ass on the small side. Alistair raised his glass in tribute as he took a careful sip. He had needed the sugar anyway – he had started to feel a little shaky after walking in. Low blood sugar was fun like that.

As he waited for his blood sugar to raise as Alice looked around, he took the chance to glance around Chora's Den without moving his head. They had definitely cleaned the place since Fist had run the place. They probably had to – his squad had left more than a few bodies and bullet holes when they were breaking out to go rescue Tali. He could still remember where he had almost collided with a wall running after Bo to make sure everything was alright.

She had left quite the trail of destruction. It was kind of impressive. Good they had fixed it in the two years since he had been dead, though.

“Commander, the target is approaching you now. Play nice.”

Alistair picked up his head as he took another sip of his drink. There was indeed someone approaching his table. Surprisingly, they weren't wearing a coord. Instead, he would have said they were any normal resident of the Wards.

Which of course, meant nothing. Out of uniform he looked like any random twink with a minor obsession with hamsters.

“Jane, is it?”

Right, that was his code name. He gave his best cordial smile, much like he had seen Alice give, and nodded. The person in front of him smiled as well as they took the seat across from them, already carrying a drink in their hand.

Theirs was definitely alcoholic – it was making his damn eyes water.

“It's so good to finally meet you...” he trailed off. “Forgive me, Alice didn't give me your name.”

They answered a little too quickly – someone was eager. “It's Rax. I was a little worried you weren't going to show up. Chora's Den is kinda rough, I'm still surprised Alice comes here when she's on the Citadel.”

People were just full of surprises, weren't they?

Alistair took another sip of his drink as he gave Rax the once over. While he didn't see any tattoos for the major gangs, the lean muscle and scarred hands suggested they were into something. Part of him would have considered undercover C-SEC, but they were obvious from a mile away. Garrus had taught him to to tell them anyway. So this guy was probably either a low level merc striking out on their own, or they were from a third party gang trying to muscle in on the big three.

Poor sap. They'd be lucky if they survived the year.

“So... why don't you tell me about yourself? Alice played this close to the corset I'm afraid.”

They were already stammering as they swallowed half their drink in one impressive gulp that dribbled down their chin. Gross. At least Alistair was a master of keeping it off his face as he kept the camera trained on his target. C-SEC might need this data later after they wiped the egg off their faces.

“Oh uh... nothing special. I just do some work locally.” Another sip – someone was nervous. “How about you? Alice says you're not on the Citadel much?”

He shook his head carefully, taking another sip. “No, my work takes me off the station frequently. I work for a small organization doing research on how the various council species construct clothing.”

“Makes sense, what with how you dress and all.” They obviously then bit their tongue. “Sorry, just... don't see a lot of women like you on the Citadel.”

Alistair chuckled much like Alice would as he played with the straw of his drink. “Oh, I'm not that rare.  We just keep to different places on the Wards.”

Why did he get the feeling Rax would love nothing more than to know where those areas were? While he wasn't exactly a member of the subculture, he could tell someone trying to scratch an itch when he saw it. The guy was kind of pathetic, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. A little more charismatic, and maybe he'd be concerned.

Then again, he was just pumping the guy for info.

“Oh... m-makes sense I guess. I mostly stay down here.”

The Spectre in disguise took another sip of his drink, careful to monitor the level. “What kind of work do you do? You look strong... C-SEC, maybe?”

The person in front of him snorted into their way too strong drink. “C-SEC is a fucking joke, Jane. They're just glorified pencil pushers sweeping the Citadel over.”

While this was true... maybe he could lean into this to get somewhere. Alistair nodded along as he played with his straw again. It was easy to see Rax was watching his every move. Maybe it was a good thing he had painted his nails for this...

It was the little touches that made the role worth it.

“Sounds like you get into some dangerous things, Rax.” He smiled, leaning in. “That's kind of exciting.”

Rax grinned, but there was nothing friendly about it as they lowered their voice. “Oh, you could say that. C-SEC doesn't even know I exist. Those idiots keep pinning my shit on other small time idiots. It's really clearing the market for me.”

Man, he must have been drunk to let go this easily. That, or he was puffing himself up. Alistair wasn't sure right then as he started putting the pieces together. With dealers, he could never tell. Usually they weren't too friendly with him... but that was when he was in armor.

So he lowered his voice again. “Market? Do you mean like... drugs?”

“Oh, I got something better than that, Jane.” Rax was so close that Alistair could smell their breath – gross. “You ever heard of red sand?”

“There, you have them! Pump them for information!”

Alice was getting excited, but the Spectre remained calm as he took a small sip of his drink. Every motion he made was deliberate, due in part to the fact he knew he was being watched. Rax's body language was screaming some rather lascivious things to say the least. Sadly, they weren't Alistair's type.

He liked his merc on the good guys's side.

“Red sand... that's that stuff that makes you biotic, right?”

Rax nodded as they drained their drink. “For a bit. I have a guy who supplies me from Ilium. C-SEC still thinks it's coming from Omega, the fucking morons!”

Yeah, they were... but now Alistair needed to find out where he was keeping it. Oh, he was going to regret this part... but it was what he needed to do. Luckily, he had a gun in his purse and a well-modified omni-tool to put up kinetic armor should he have the need.

So he smiled, finishing his drink. “Sounds thrilling. Skirting the law, working with that kind of material. You live an exciting life.”

“You don't know the half of it, Jane.” They looked at both empty drinks on the table. “Say... looks like both of us are out. I got something a little better at my place. It's not far if you want to come with... I can walk slow for you.”

Alistair smiled as he stood, straightening his skirt as he did. “Maybe you can tell me a little more about your exciting life while you're there. I've never tried... you know...”

He looked away, willing his face to blush. It was hard to do it on command, but it gave him a chance to look through his altered eyelashes. Rax was watching him, looking as though they had just won the world series.

Too bad they wasn't getting lucky tonight.

“Well, I think I could give you a taste.” They held out their arm. “Follow me, then. This place was getting a little too loud anyway.”

The pair were soon leaving Chora's Den, walking out of the club entirely. The bartender gave Alistair a concerned look, but when Rax wasn't looking he winked and patted his purse, briefly showing the outline. Then she shook her head, but smiled anyway.

It was short walk, like the merc had said. This part of the Wards was pretty run down, just like the Spectre remembered it. Luckily, they were heading for a small group of ramshackle warehouses. Honestly, it was just the place he expected someone to hide red sand.

Still... talk about keeping it right under C-SEC's nose. If Rax hadn't been so horny for a pretty face in a long skirt, they might've pulled it off longer.

“Here's my little piece of heaven.” Rax's smile turned to a smirk as they nudged Alistair closer to the door. “So uh... how about we get to know each other a little better? It's gonna be hard to do this in such a big skirt a-”

Alistair was all smiles as his eyes glowed bright blue and pinned his target against the wall. “Yes, I do believe it's going to be a little hard to do this if you keep trying to undress me with your mind. Now, about the red sand?”

Now it was going to get fun... he had plenty of sugar to work off from that Red Shepard. Might as well put it to use.

Poor Rax. All they had wanted to do was get laid. They had even been nice about it. Sadly, that's what happened when you tried to fuck a Spectre pumping you for info.

---

“So you went undercover in Chora's Den and wound up meeting with the middleman.”

Alistair nodded as he finished his compacted story. The C-SEC agent still looked incredulous, but he had filled in the needed pieces. Naturally, he had kept out the parts about him being in a dress, but they were more window dressing anyway.

“Yep. They showed me the warehouse, I restrained them when they made a move against me. Then you guys showed up.”

Turns out Rax had been sitting on a small mountain of red sand, enough to really fuck some people up. They were still working on locating their supplier, but Alistair had a feeling they had long since cut and run. After all, there hadn't been nearly enough to strike out as a solo dealer. More likely, they were just holding for someone more powerful.

But... that was one supply cut off he supposed.

“Well... you managed to clear up a red sand smuggling ring we had previously thought was connected to Omega. Not to mention a few assaults, a missing person, and a possible murder.” The C-SEC agent looked rather sheepish. “You uh... you do good work, Shepard.”

Alistair smiled as he rose. “Thank you. Can I get going, though? I need to get back to the Normandy. They kind of can't take off without me.”

“Oh uh... sure. If we hear anything else, we'll let you know...”

With that, Alistair took his leave of the station. As he did, he walked past the office of a few other officers. From the looks of things, they were clearing the cases he had managed to bust open for them with a few hours work.

Not a bad job for a Spectre.

“I don't get it... are you sure that's what she said?”

“Yeah, bartender at Chora's Den said a woman in a green, puffy dress with blonde hair was seen leaving with Rax. Nobody's seen her since.”

And then he was walking a little faster. After all, he had a ship to get back to, and a lot of questions he didn't want to answer. Besides, he had a dress he needed to iron and return once it was back to pristine condition.

He was definitely returning it this time. No more cross-dressing...

…

At least not in this dress. Green wasn't really his color, and Alice probably wanted it back. Maybe he should...

Fuck. Now this was a road he didn't want to go down.

[slashermom]

Affliction lll

Affliction l & ll

The sun was going down in the little town of Ambrose when you stopped by the service station. A cool breeze swept by and brought goosebumps to your skin as you peaked your head in the front door in search of the harshest of the Sinclair brothers.

“Bo, you in here?” You talked over the raging music and before you could take another step into the small building Bo’s head peaked around the corner to meet your gaze.

“Hey, you need somethin?” He stepped away from whatever he was working on, wiping his hands on a dirty red rag.

“No, I’m just going to be heading into town and was wondering if you needed anything while I was there?” You shrugged and watched him lean against the door and cross his arms over his chest.

“Well isn’t that mighty kind of you.” The corners of lips curving upwards and his eyes narrowing on you.

“What can I say? It’s just the kind of person I am.” Your tone was jovial and you threw your hands up in the air as if admitting defeat. Bo chuckled before pushing off the door frame and taking a couple of steps back into the garage.

“I think I’m all set. But what you can do for me is hand me my hat.” He motioned behind you to the counter where the dirty old thing laid abandoned. You turned on your heels snatching up the poor cap that had definitely seen better days and spinning back around to hand it to its owner.

“You should let me wash it. Poor thing needs a little TLC.” Examining it briefly before Bo fitted the hat back on to its rightful place on his mess of brunette hair.

“This here’s my good luck charm. I’m not gonna let you just wash all the luck out.” Bo was quick to shut down the idea and laughter bubbled up between you two.

The enjoyable moment was spoiled when you realized you were not alone.

A woman who couldn’t have been much older than you and Bo stood in the garage doorway. Blonde hair greasy and clumps of wax stuck to her strands and coated her back and shoulders. Her white blouse torn and pants dirtied no doubt from a harrowing escape. But her appearance wasn’t what held your attention, it was the handgun held tightly in grasp.

She had caught on that the two of you had seen her and the hand holding the firearm shot up and was pointed in the direction of you both.

“Woah, sweetheart. Why don’cha lower the gun?” Bo’s strides were slow and his tone was confident. A hand sweeping behind his back and motioning you to stay back and behind him.

“No! Not until one of you mother fuckers gets me a phone or a car!” Her demands were clearly non-negotiable.

“We’ll getcha a phone. Hell, I’ll pull my truck out and you can use the phone in the truck. But you gotta put the gun down.” Bo was a master bullshit artist and you knew it. But whether the woman believed it was a completely different story. You could hear the blood flowing in your ears, nerves eating you from the inside out as you prayed that she wouldn’t shoot Bo point-blank in the face.

“I-I-I know who you are! I know what you’re doing and I’m not gonna let you do this to anyone else!” Her threat radiated off the walls of the garage as a shaky finger squeezed the trigger. Bo‘s fine-tuned reactions were fast enough to dodge and snatch her arm and hold it high as two more shots discharged from the handgun. She screamed and thrashed in his hold before his elbow crushed against the side of her beat red face; dropping to the floor in a pitiful lump in front of him. Bo sighed, tossing the gun away from her body before turning back to you.

“Y/N, are you al-“ His throat went dry. His heart slamming in his chest cavity and legs turning to jello as he followed your arms all the way to the large hole that was ripped into your abdomen. Crimson fluid seeped out and trickled down your fingers, leaking on to the smooth concrete. A pair of glassy eyes met his and his jaw slacked, time stopped and it was just the two of you. Staring at each other in an attempt that if neither of you moved what was happening would stop.

“Bo?” Your back smashed against the workbench before you hit the ground with a deafening thud. He doesn’t even remember processing the thought to rush to you, he just immediately was by your side. Pressing calloused hands onto your wound as he tried to keep as much blood from flowing out as possible. Bo frantically looked around for anything, anything at all that could help you. Your slow, careful words startling him and bringing his full attention back to you.

“You have to take care of him for me, you have... you have to promise me.” It was a breathless and choked filled request. Bo had heard the same cadence from his victims when they were hanging on to their life by shreds. It was pitiful and not like you.

“What’re you talkin’ like that for? You’re gonna be just fine darlin’” He was panicking. He pushed harder on your stomach and winced as he heard you cry out louder. Bo screamed out for his twin - he couldn’t move you - not like this.

“Bo, please, for me.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. Here you were, life leaving your body and you weren’t begging him to save you or to make the pain stop but to take care of Vincent. It was in those precious few seconds that Bo finally understood.

With that understanding, he decided he could do that, for you.

He nodded and swallowed hard. You smiled and his eyes followed the tears that streamed down your cheeks. You moved a hand from his and brought it up to his jaw, fingers softly resting there. Smearing your blood across his sun-kissed skin, Bo leaned into your frail touch and felt a sting spread up his whole body.

Not like all the other times you touched him, those were gentle and in a way bittersweetly euphoric. No, this touch stung because he knew this would be the last time he would ever feel your skin against his.

It was like watching the impossible happen as you pushed your final breath out in a pathetic wheeze. Your movements frozen and face dull, suddenly, you shared more in common with the wax resident of Ambrose than you did him.

“No, no, no.” He moved his hands from your stomach to your face, bringing you closer too him.

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon darlin’ look at me!” Bo was suddenly a helpless boy again, strapped down to a high chair thrashing as control was ripped from him. Bo told himself he was past that point, nothing will ever hold him down or be taken away from him outside of his own volition. But just like everything in his life, it didn’t go according to plan.

Bo began shaking you, begging you, pleading you, screaming out for you to look at him. Just look at him like you did when you first met, when you put stitches in his arm that rainy night, when you sat on the porch and laughed with him.

It didn’t make any sense as to why this hurt him as much as it.

You were never Bo’s to lose in the first place.

But looking at you, in his arms, reminiscing on everything you once were, Bo felt like he lost the biggest battle.

“Fuck! C’mon!” His screaming was strangled and painful, a familiar tone he had when he screamed at social services not to separate him from his brothers. Damming them all to hell as he was shoved into the backseat of a car and driven away from Vincent and Lester.

Through the panic and delirium, he didn’t pick up on the fast-approaching footsteps, too busy with fighting his mind on the right words to ask for your forgiveness.

He had failed you, just like he knew he would.

It was the clang of metal hitting the floor that brought Bo back. Angry eyes coming up to meet the sight of his twin, Vincent’s shoulders heavy as realization seeped into him. Bo slowly removed his large hands from your head, dragging the pads of his thumbs down your raw tear stricken cheeks and painting your face with your own blood.

He pushed himself away from your once life-filled body carefully before standing on two unsure legs. Vincent took quiet steps towards you, almost like you were asleep and didn’t wish to wake you. He slumped to the ground and collected you into his chest.

Bo’s legs seemed to have a mind of their own as he shuffled towards the gun that fired the bullet and effectively ripped your life from you. Picking it up and turning back to the woman who was slowly coming back to reality. There wasn’t room for a second thought before Bo aimed and the gun at her head and pulled the trigger, over and over again.

Each fire of the gun he saw your face.

Heard your laughter.

Felt your touch.

Then suddenly he felt nothing at all.

It was nauseating numbness as his mind turned into a blank slate. Maybe it wasn’t even numbness at all. Perhaps it was the overwhelming feeling of everything at once that was sending Bo into overdrive. After the gun was emptied into the woman’s skull and he let it fall back to the ground he didn’t bother to look at his twin as he muttered his next words.

“This is all your god damn fault, y’know that right?” Bo seethed. “She would still be here if you weren’t so fuckin’ useless!” Vincent didn’t acknowledge his brother, but he was taking in every single word. Bo finally turned around to face the tragedy that happened in a matter of seconds. Watching as his brother held you in his arms, his mask discarded at his side as he worked through how he could make this right.

“Clean up this fuckin’ mess.” He spat before turning back and leaving the service station to polarize this moment by itself. Bo didn’t get very far down the road before Vincent’s gut-wrenching cry ripped through the night sky like scissors through paper and shot up Bo’s spine like a strike of lightening.

It’s night like these that make Bo wish he never came back to this town.

[kyliwrites]

HELNIK

"I can't believe you don't like Disney movies."

Pairing: Nina x Matthias

Word Count: 2k+

Fluff or Angst?: Fluff

Oneshot?: Yes

Proofread?: No

Unsurprisingly, when Nina suggested a stay-at-home movie night, there was a good deal of discourse about which movies to watch. As usual, everyone had a certain Opinion™ about which Marvel films were trash and which were alright (which dissolved into a debate about Marvel vs. DC; poor Wylan was clueless and shrunk into the sofa when the choruses of “SPIDERMAN!” and “IRON MAN!” grew to a screaming match that became a pillow fight between Inej and Jesper). And most of all, Kaz’s choices were… well, they were a far cry from the general mood Nina had intended to set for the night.

All she’d wanted was a night of peace and relaxation, and maybe to shove everyone else off the sofa to cuddle with Matthias, but no one needed to know that part. The point was, she hadn’t planned on the utter chaos that her friends left in the wake of determining a movie to watch, though she probably should have.

Her entire living room was trashed.

“Did you guys really have to shred my favorite throw pillow?” Nina groaned, flicking a feather off of her sleeve with a pointed glare at Inej. The girl hoarded knives like a madwoman, and Nina had no doubt the mess of stuffing strewn across the navy carpeted floor was her doing.

“I’m sorry,” Inej said, ducking her head sheepishly and looking decidedly unsorry.

“Mmhm, sureeeee you are.” Nina glanced to Jesper, who sat covered in little white wisps of pillow insides. He grimaced and made an attempt at defending his honor, but Wylan spoke first.

“He deserved it. He threw one first,” he said, sounding unbothered by the catastrophe that had befallen Nina's apartment. He smirked at his boyfriend from where he’d curled up a safe distance away from the rough-housing. Kaz, leaning against the wall, raised his brows in dry, contented amusement.

“What!?” Jesper placed a hand on his heart, mock offended. “You wound me, merchling. Aren’t you supposed to jump to my defense? Go on, love, yell, 'He’s not to blame!’”

Satisfaction danced across Inej’s face as she slid off of the sofa and dusted feathers off of her leggings. “You’re the one who insulted Spiderman. You got only what you asked for.”

Matthias huffed out a breathy laugh and strode forward to wrap his arms around Nina. He placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Regardless. I’m sure we can all agree that the best superhero of all time is Thor.”

There had been a time when he would have recoiled at the very thought of such public displays of affection, back when he’d just immigrated to New York, but now it was their trademark. Where Nina and Matthias were, little whispers and giggles followed - bets on when they’d forego common decency and, point blank, start making out.

It never happened - well… not often, anyway. There was that one time when two of her managers had walked in on a somewhat passionate kissing session in the back of the restaurant Nina worked part-time at, but that was a story for another day (and a miracle that she wasn’t fired then and there). She didn’t like to think of Zoya’s disappointed face or Genya’s broad smirk at the moment… regardless of the fact that Zoya’s disappointed face was Zoya’s regular face and Genya always smirked.

Nina leaned back into Matthias’s embrace and smiled up at him with an, “In your dreams, Thunder Thighs” and a grin.

Amused exasperation replaced the sweet smile that had been on his face moments prior. “You’re all uncultured swine. Thor is the best superhero, and that’s that. You can’t change my mind.”

Jesper arched a brow. “That sounds vaguely like an invitation to change your mind. Ever heard of—” Inej smacked him with a pillow.

“You can’t seriously intend to argue yourself into another pillow fight, Jes,” Wylan retorted. He shifted away from Matthias, Inej, and Jesper, ever the pacifist.

Actually, that was a lie. He had once shoved Kuwei Yul-Bo into a garbage can on Broadway Street when he asked Jesper on a date—coincidentally, it was while Wylan and Jesper were on the way to see Kinky Boots. On a date.

Wylan was by no means a pacifist—it was more that he was currently done with everyone's shit

Nina sighed, knowing she was going to have to break apart World War III on her own. Kaz was watching them with narrow eyes, humor evident in his wry smile, and Matthias, Inej, and Jesper seemed ready to face off like it was a three-way nineteenth century Russian duel.

“Okay, guys, stop. No superhero is the best—”

All three offenders opened their mouths to object.

“—let’s stop arguing about Marvel and DC and… watch a Disney movie?”

Jesper and Inej closed their mouths, and after a moment, they nodded in reluctant agreement. Wylan beamed, and Kaz merely shrugged. He had a sadistic streak when it came to Disney—cracking jokes when Bambi’s mother died, pointing out continuity errors, essentially ruining their childhoods—the like. Nina had suspected he loved witnessing their discomfort from the moment he had the audacity to laugh at the scene in Pocahontas when John Smith was shot and say, “They died of STDs. Fucking idiots.”

But Matthias had never watched a Disney movie with them before - he was the only ‘yes’ left before they could get on with picking which movie (another battle to be waged later).

When Nina turned to gauge his reaction, a look of pure disgust and confusion was etched on his face. Disbelief sprouted across her own.

“Matthias… don’t tell me. You’ve never seen a Disney movie? What kind of household did you grow upon?”

He frowned. “We didn’t have Disney movies. My family does not support the company.” Nina caught her friends' gazes as they all rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“Let me guess, you were put to work the second you could lift your refrigerator at the tender age or six months,” Jesper drawled, leaning back on the sofa.

“I could not lift my fridge at the tender age of six.”

“Ohh, right. Your parents never taught you what a joke is. You have my sincere apologies, Thunder Thighs."

“Matthias,” Matthias corrected, but before this debate could get out of hand, Nina flung her arms out and shouted, “Well, this has been great and all, but is anyone concerned that Matthias has never, not once, seen a Disney movie?”

“No offense, but it’s not exactly on my bucket list, love.” Matthias brushed a strand of copper hair out of her eyes.

“Well, now it is on my bucket list to get you to watch a Disney movie. Oh, I’ve got it! Hercules. Since you’re the classics major.”

No one offered any objections, aside from an attempt from Matthias that was quickly silenced by a kiss on the lips from Nina that left him red-faced and speechless.

And thus, five minutes later, the lights had been flicked off and all (most) of the couples were not-so-discreetly cuddling. Inej and Kaz were… sort of sitting together underneath a hand-woven blanket, but that was as close as it got with those two. Nina counted it as a silent victory.

Wylan and Jesper were literally just spooning, and Nina’s head was in Matthias’s lap as the sounds of sweet mythological-themed jazz filled her ears. Bless these powerful African-American ladies for their roles as the Muses.

The peace didn’t last, of course, because their group was undeniably the most dysfunctional gang ever to exist.

"Hercules? You mean Hunkules!”

“That was the worst joke I have ever heard,” Matthias growled, making a face.

“Shhh, you oaf, you have to listen to the story.” Nina swatted his chin affectionately.

“I don’t want to listen to the story,” he insisted, rubbing at his stubble where he’d been Swatted. “I know it already. I’m majoring in classics.”

“Sh! Save it for later.”

He obeyed with an uneffected roll of his eyes.

She was surprised he’d managed to keep his biting remarks to himself throughout the introduction, but it wasn’t too much of a shocker when he started at Hades’s appearance on screen.

“That is not Hades. Tell me that’s not supposed to be Hades.”

“It’s supposed to be Hades.”

“That is wrong!”

“It’s a kids’ movie and he’s the villain, of course he looks wrong. Now shut up and watch it.”

Matthias let out a beleaguered sigh and cast his gaze back toward the television screen.

Most of the movie progressed uneventfully from that point onward, but during the ending, Matthias sucked in a breath and Nina just knew he was going to rant about the inaccuracy of a children’s movie and Greek myths for a solid twelve and a half minutes.

“First of all, why was Hades portrayed so *horrendously?*”

“You laughed at his jokes.”

“I laughed because they were stupid. But why was he so- so-”

“Gay?” Nina suggested with a wriggle of her brows.

Matthias’s neck was red with the determination of a man who was not going to back down from a fight. “Yes? Well…” He considered it for a moment. “No, that part was actually spot-on. All of the Greek deities were tragically bisexual—”

“Can I get a pin that says that? ‘Tragically bisexual?’” Jesper laughed.

“Make it yourself,” Matthias retorted and returned to his rant. If Nina was being honest, she tuned him out after the words, “scrawny golden white boy" were uttered, opting instead to watch his entire face move with his mouth.

It was addicting, seeing his eyes alight with passion and flare. He seemed so relentless, so full of emotion that he was bursting at the seams with it, and it was a relaxing change to what Nina was accustomed to seeing… the frigid, daunting mask of stoicism he wore around everyone else. It was why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. He was strong, well-mannered, but most of all, he had conviction in his beliefs, a fire behind his ice that melted it into water—even if he hadn't always clung to the... correct... beliefs. He hadn't always been so open-minded.

She liked to believe that she'd somehow changed him, that the goodness in his heart had been stirred into awakening by her hand. That she'd made him a better man. That she'd taught him to love her as an equal. She liked to imagine that one day they might return to his family and spread what he'd learned. The Helvars were good people deep down, but uneducated in the ways that mattered—in the emotions and hardships of those less fortunate than them. They had prejudices of their own that Nina dreamed of helping them overcome... and some people had prejudices against them she wished to eliminate. Maybe these were the foolish ramblings of an optimist, but she had her hopes, and if they worked together they might overcome the biases of the world.

Nina cursed herself. Oh, this heart of hers. She was getting sappy in the midst of an argument about Disney.

“For God’s sake, Matthias,” Jesper was saying when she finally tuned back in, as exasperated as ever. “It’s Disney.”

“That’s precisely the problem." Matthias’s eyebrows were knit together. "Children are being educated wrong! All of them will grow up having learned the myth incorrectly. Do you know how difficult it is to relearn a topic after years of—"

Jesper cut in with an, "Okay, I can’t sit here and listen to this anymore. I’m leaving.” Wylan made a noise of protest, clearly unwilling to be deprived of the warmth of his boyfriend’s arms, but Jesper tugged the blanket away and started to rise.

Nina, chuckling fondly, gestured to the door. “Then get out of our apartment. I’ve got classes and work tomorrow, and I’m not staying up any later than this. Besides, Matthias needs his beauty sleep.”

“Alright, alright,” Jesper grumbled, slinging an arm around Wylan as they took their leave.

Matthias poked her chest with an affectionate glare. “My beauty sleep? Isn’t that what you need?”

“No, because I”—she prodded him right back—”am already stunning, thank you very much.”

Matthias’s teasing expression fell, and was replaced with something kinder, softer. “I know. You, Nina Zenik, are the most stunning, gorgeous, beautiful—ridiculously beautiful, might I add—”

Nina grew flustered.

"Obviously," she said, though her cheeks were pink, and she pushed him gently.

Matthias was undeterred. He was gazing at her with depthless tenderness. “—most amazing, talented”—at this, Nina snorted—”woman I know.”

An awkward clearing of the throat interrupted Nina before she could even reply to that.

Kaz. Oh shit, she thought.

“Oh shit," she said.

“If you could take that elsewhere, that would be just stellar,” Kaz whispered.

“No, why don’t you leave my house? And why are you whisper—oh.”

Inej had lain her head on Kaz’s shoulder and was out like a light.

“Yes, oh.” Kaz scowled, shooing them away. “I don’t intend to move, because this one sleeps about as often as I do. Now go cuddle elsewhere.”

“Kicking me out of my own living room? Brekker, you’re a riot.”

“Fuck off, Zenik.”

Nina snickered and Matthias whisked her away with a firm glare at Kaz. He practically carried her towards their bedroom, ignoring her giggles and protests, and kissed her sweetly before drawing the covers over her shoulders.

“So how did you really feel about the Disney movie?” She asked when they were both comfortably snuggled beneath the comforter.

Matthias groaned. “It’s midnight, Nina.”

“Answers, Helvar. I demand them.”

There was a pregnant stretch of silence, and just when Nina was sure he wasn’t going to answer, he said, “...It was inaccurate and a mistake was made by ever producing it, but… it was alright.”

She let out a whoop of victory at which Matthias rolled his eyes and turned on his side.

“I win!” Nina cawed, drawing him back towards her. “Ha!”

“Oh, lovely. You’ll be insufferable now.”

“You love me, though.” Nina kissed the back of his head, content to breathe in the scent of him as she buried her nose in the crook of his neck.

“That I do. I most definitely do.”

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I love you, too.”