#look - not everybody is serious in the BOS.

[ohdeerfully]

Spoilers ahead for the final episode!

Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.

Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.

hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j

i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses

Stitches

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot

join my discord!

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It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.

You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.

You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam. 

A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.

You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.

That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.

Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.

You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.

You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.

The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask. 

“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.

“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.

“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”

He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.

“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.

During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.

“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust… 

“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.

You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room. 

Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.

“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.

“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.

You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.

“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.

“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”

“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.

“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.

You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.

Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.

After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—

“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.

He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself. 

“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”

You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.

“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”

You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered. 

The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought. 

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.

“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case. 

His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.

You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.

The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.

When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.

“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.

“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.

“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”

“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip. 

Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.

“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.

“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer? 

Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.

Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.

“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.

“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.

“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.

His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”

[maybege]

What If - Part One

Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)

Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.

Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol

Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”

You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.

Well, almost everyone.

“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”

“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”

The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.

Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.

“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.

Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.

You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.

“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”

“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”

You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?

You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.

“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”

Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.

“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”

*

It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.

Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.

You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.

Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.

One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.

When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?

“ … Paz Vizsla.”

The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?

Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?

When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.

You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.

Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.

“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –

“Hello,” you replied shyly.

He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?

His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.

Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.

“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.

But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.

“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.

“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.

“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”

“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”

That was weirdly touching.

You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.

“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”

“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”

“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”

“You can smell me with that helmet on?”

“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.

“Are you wet?”

“Uh, what?”

His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man? 

“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”

You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.

Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.

“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.

Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.

Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”

It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.

You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.

What had this man done to you?

He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.

The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.

Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.

You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”

Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.

He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”

His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.

It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.

“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”

His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.

“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”

“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.

“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”

Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.

“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”

“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.

“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.

At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.

“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.

“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.

“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”

Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.

The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.

His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.

Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.

Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.

The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”

You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.

“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”

Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.

Until his other hand was on your pussy again.

When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.

He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.

Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.

“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”

Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.

He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.

“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.

You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.

How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?

His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.

Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.

And Paz felt it too.

He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.

“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.

With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.

This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.

 “Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“

“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”

And you did.

It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.

And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”

The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.

Which was exactly what you said.

But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.

The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.

“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.

“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.

“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.

“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“You get to come.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to make you come.”

“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.

Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.

Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.

His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.

“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”

Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.

You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.

“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”

“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“

“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”

“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”

“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”

It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.

The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.

You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.

His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.

His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.

“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”

With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.

The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.

It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.

“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”

His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.

Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.

He really was filling you to the brim.

Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.

Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.

“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”

You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.

“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”

His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”

“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”

[findingcrow]

Okay, its been a couple months since my last Roomies post which means I need to ramble more (mainly because I consume the found family trope like its oxygen I need to survive), so here we go again!!!

The Roomies (Grian, Etho, and Cleo in Secret Life) are genuinely my favorite group out of all of the life series. They are the very definition of found family. They made the trope, actually. And what's worse is that they were doomed from the beginning.

Grian, known for abandoning people for the hell of it anytime it's convenient. The last time he was really loyal to someone was in Last Life with Scar, and after how that ended, I like to think that he was afraid to make any connections like that again. He messes with people for the sake of it. He is the embodiment of chaos itself.

Cleo, known for her violent and merciless nature. Throughout the series, she's constantly making a long list of people to kill when she gets the chance. It's not often she displays openness with people, especially knowing how the life series always ends. The last time she did, her family was splitting by the seams and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She refuses to not be in power again like that.

Etho, extremely serious and yet not at all. He'll lie when he needs to, he'll mess with whoever he wants, whenever he wants. He does his tasks, bumps into everyone and no one on the way. Known for being loyal, but loyal to who? All of the other seasons are done, he has no solid allies, besides BDubs.

And yet after the divorce arc, Cleo and Etho reunite, Etho allowing Cleo to stay when she was trying to escape Tango and the others. It's more for connivence at first, maybe helping out with a task here or there. They made a home and continue on.

Then Grian asks for a place to stay- just as Cleo had all those episodes ago- and they say yes. They know that there's a high likelihood of him killing them when the time comes to it. They look between each other, remembering all of their pasts and all of the blood shed, and they realize that they're just the same as the man standing at their door asking for shelter. Not a home, just a shelter. That's all this is for the three of them, it's a roommates-for-connivence situation.

But over time, they all get... closer. Maybe it's after the zombie apocalypse, where Grian's first thought after realizing is, "I need to warn Cleo and Etho" or where Etho purposefully wards the zombies away from his friends. Maybe it's after the traps set specifically to kill them. Maybe it's after Grian begs Etho and Cleo to do the "zombie dance," where Cleo tries her best despite not even knowing it existed.

There was never a specific moment where they decided they were no longer roommates and that they were family. It's rarely acknowledged until Grian is speaking with the two of them where he swears to never hurt them, even after all of them turn Red. Etho and Cleo, in return, agree.

When the end eventually comes, like they all knew it would, they stick together. They climb high up, high enough where they should be able to live in peace together for the rest of eternity. But they're found, just like the game is meant to go, and everyone knows there's going to be people who don't come down. Etho is one of the first.

There's no mistaking the cries that are shouted when Etho falls. Grian and Cleo watch intently, only wanting Etho to run faster. They don't hear his final words, they don't hear him say "I'm going home, everybody. I'm dying in my home." They don't get to be there, in his last moments, as he passes away in the home they made together. All Cleo and Grian can do is mourn for a short moment before trying to save themselves. Grian calls out, "No, Etho, my boy!!!" eyes straying to their home, staying there for a moment, not being able to know what happened there, other than his family being dead. Cleo begins to do something similar- "Etho, you're my bo..." She lets out a sob, her voice cracking, before she quickly distracts herself. She understands now what the goal of the game is, how everyone else is playing it. They're willing to do anything to avenge Etho, even if it means getting killed themselves.

Grian and Cleo- only two of their trio, a blank space left open where another should be- work together, barely leaving each others side. But eventually they're found, even with their trap doing so much damage. Cleo is the second to go, cornered and slaughtered.

Grian was the last to join The Roomies and the last to leave, and he made sure it counted. He fought not only for himself, but for his fallen family. He's only one person, but he fights with the strength of all three of them. Eventually, he's killed, just like the others, but at least he did what he could. He tried, and that was all that mattered.

I'd like to think that Etho and Cleo were waiting for him, then. Etho had waited for Cleo, both of them tearing up at the fact that they got to see each other again. They cheered from above, watching Grian fight off so many more than himself. And when Grian joined them, they opened their arms, the same that had held on so tight throughout the series. The three of them, The Roomies, they had named themselves, were only thankful that their last memories of each other's faces weren't the bloody versions from their deaths.

The three of them were so different. They had different personalities, different friends, different backgrounds. They knew that in the end, only one could win. And yet they were willing to die for each other, ready to murder the whole server in cold blood for even trying to hurt any of them. After trying so hard to not be attached, they couldn't help it.

Family isn't always the blood in your veins; sometimes its the blood on your hands. Sometimes it's the hand that holds yours, despite it being red-stained and calloused. Sometimes it's the ones that would be willing to spill more blood with you, for you, even if it was illogical. Sometimes it's the stupid animals that you named together, sometimes its the adventures that ended up causing pain but you can laugh through because you're not alone.

[jessicas-pi]

Bo and the Blueberry AU incorrect quotes

Bo-Katan: How’s school going? Ezra: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there. Bo-Katan: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes. Ezra: …you shouldn’t be condoning this.

---

Ezra: If history repeats, I'm so getting a Mythosaur.

---

Sabine: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Ezra: When we were kids, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Sabine: They're not. Ezra: Haha, very funny. Sabine: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Ezra: No… what happened? Sabine: …Why would you fall for this again-

---

Din (after Ezra becomes Mand'alor): I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

---

Sabine: You know what’s funny about Ezra? He’s my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt him is someone I’d murder, probably.

---

Bo-Katan: We'll talk about this later. Ezra: Ok, I won’t be listening.

---

Tristan: I found an old note that said Note to self: Get revenge on Ezra. Tristan: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Tristan: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Ezra: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Tristan: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Ezra: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Tristan: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

---

Bo-Katan: Come on, Ursa. Nobody actually believes that Din is in love with me. Ursa, to the other Mandalorians: Raise your hand if you think that Din is helplessly in love with Bo-Katan. *Everyone raises their hand* Bo-Katan: Din, put your hand down.

---

Korkie, looking at his friends: I need to become a therapist faster.

---

Ezra: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Tristan: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

---

Ezra, to Sabine: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Sabine: … Ezra: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

---

Ezra: Your smile? It makes my day. Sabine: Your happiness? I live for that. Korkie: A room? Get one. Tristan: Hotel? Trivago.

---

Ezra, texting Bo-Katan: *sends a voice message* Bo-Katan, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent? Ezra: No, don’t worry, just listen later. *later* Bo-Katan: *presses play* Ezra's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

---

Sabine: Relationships should be 50/50. Ezra tries to be Mand'alor while I sit on the armrest of his throne looking intimidating.

---

Ezra: I need life advice. Korkie, sipping Space Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

---

Sabine: Okay, I’m going to make sure the flower decorations have arrived. Ezra: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Sabine: … Sabine: You mean ring bearER, right? Ezra: … Sabine: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

---

Bo-Katan: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Ezra: Mine just says "Ezra no." Bo-Katan: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

---

Tristan: Why is Ezra making me do the dishes again? You haven’t washed them in a week, Sabine! Sabine: It’s because I’m Ezra’s favorite. Tristan: I hate you.

---

Korkie: I have a bad feeling about this, guys. Sabine: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Ezra: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Korkie, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

[fun-k-board]

Hey again friend.

How about a headcanon of being best friends and a student to smoke 😄😄 please

Tomas Vrbada / Smoke Friendship Headcanons

Note(s) : I'm still learning how to write about his character, so criticisms are appreciated.

If we're talking Lin Kuei, Tomas is probably the best option for a mentor because he's not as strict and, uh, scary as Bi-Han, and even less serious than Kuai Liang, although that's not hard because he's so responsible.

But, that doesn't mean he'll let you slack off.

Tomas has a schedule, which includes waking up extremely early, most likely 6 AM, getting dressed and having breakfast in the span of a few minutes, you're expected to be at training for at least 7 AM. Then you train until lunch, around 1 PM, which lasts until 2 PM and then you train until dinner, around 6PM.

He expects you, and everybody else who trains under him, to follow that schedule. He can accept a few excuses, injuries making it harder to get dressed, mental issues, maybe you were just really hungry and accidentally spent too long eating, whatever the case, he lets you off with a warning most of the time.

But if it becomes repeated behaviour you're going through more gruelling training for a week, only Bi-Han at that point can get you out of it, and everybody knows he won't.

He retains a friendly and casual relationship outside of your training, inviting you with his brothers to dinner, which is usually less than once a month. They're usually at Madame Bo's or another tea house, and he's usually the one paying.

You both talk while he trains you, mostly about other Lin Kuei members and their performance / behaviours. Smoke won't trash talk, but he will sometimes indulge in gossip. 'Did you hear about the new recruit who tried to fight Bi-Han?' 'They did what?!'

Even when you're fighting with more seriousness, he's still cracking a friendly joke here and there. Probably something about ice, fire, or smoke.

Speaking of, if you don't like puns about smoke, don't even talk to this guy. He somehow knows every pun in existence that even slightly relates to it, Bi-Han and Kuai Liang are so tired of them they both just leave whenever he starts with one.

He adores if you match his energy, you two bounce back with constant puns that you forget training and leave Bi-Han to scold you two.

Tomas already has a strained relationship with Bi-Han, the man doesn't view him as a brother, let alone squeal, even though that's all Smoke wants from him. He doesn't mean to burden you with his issues, but sometimes he might ask 'Do you think I'm deserving of being a Lin Kuei?'

He won't stop being friends with you if Bi-Han doesn't like you, but maybe he will if Kuai doesn't, he looks up to Scorpion and views him as a major influence in life. But, the likelihood of Kuai ever actually telling him he doesn't like you is low, so, you're all good.

Given how the Lin Kuei works, I think you'd also have to train under his brothers or others in the clan once and a while, but mainly under him. He probably has other students to train, and so he's not always free for casual talk or sparring because he has others to mentor.

I'd say, for a guess, he most likely gets at least a day off, if not, breakfast, lunch and dinner is probably a time where he's free to at least go to a restaurant for food with you.

Shirai Ryu Tomas is different. While before he had maybe one day off, now he's always free because of how there's almost no recruits, only Hanzo and a few other kids who didn't have a good situation before the clan formed.

You'd most likely help the younger ones, and maybe have an 'assistant' role when teaching, the training is fairly lighter because they're just kids, but any adults or teens will have the same training as you, with a tighter schedule that you have to help maintain.

He has more free time to just... Hang around basically, he's always inviting you to have food with Kuai or his friends, like Johnny, Syzoth and most other members of the Kast, he's a big fan of helping you out with tasks.

Tomas will enjoy cleaning, for example, he expects you to help him obviously, especially if it's your room or armour he's helping clean. But, he enjoys it because it's productive and he gets to spend time with you.

Smoke also loves when you do things like that for him! Especially cooking, he's not... The best at it, so he appreciates when you make food after a long day of training and doing small missions for Liu Kang.

He doesn't touch the kitchen. Don't make him go near it.

He might try and teach you Czech or Chinese, if you don't know either already, this totally isn't just so when you're in crowded areas you can talk to each other without people listening, what are you talking about?

Although, it took him years to learn Chinese, so he understands if you find it too difficult and don't want to learn, that won't stop him from muttering words under his breath when he's annoyed.

He's not the biggest fan of hugs, don't get me wrong, he absolutely will if you ask him or he needs it, but he doesn't think he's ever been hugged since he was a kid, so it's just a bit unfamiliar.

Smoke likes holding your hand though, not only will you not get lost in crowds, but you can have friendly contact without it being too much for either of you.

Never ask him for relationship advice, if you want a wingman, look the other way. His love life consists of nothing, a barren desert, and he prefers to keep it that way.

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side B

Goodbye (Look who's inside again) - Bo Burnham

"Am I going crazy? Would I even know? Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago? Wanna guess the ending? If it ever does I swear to God that all I've ever wanted was A little bit of everything, all of the time A bit of everything, all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime I'm finished playing, and I'm staying inside"

This is Home / Home - Cavetown

"Get a load of this monster He doesn't know how to communicate His mind is in a different place Will everybody please give him a little bit of space Get a load of this train-wreck His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet But little do we know, the stars Welcome him with open arms"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

Goodbye (Look who's inside again) - Bo Burnham

Propaganda:

No Propaganda Submitted

Animatics with the song:

Deltarune

Twisted Wonderland

DSMP

DSMP Wilbur

Amphibia

This is Home / Home - Cavetown

Propaganda:

This song is sooooo sad man... the animatics to this one are so sad its very much a self loathing melacholy song and so you get a lot of really angsty sad animatics from this one, some can be downright gut wrenching but either way you see this song a whole lot so it deserves a place in the hall of fame

this is to the danganronpa animatic i watched all the way back in 2020 that i STILL think about even though im not in the fandom anymore. that animatic is the animatic of all animatics ever to me.

Animatics with the song:

The Magnus Archives (Home)

Homestuck (This is Home)

Good Omens (Home)

The Magnus Archives (Home)

Danganronpa (This is Home)

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

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ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

[ashtxeman]

*crashes through wall* got any aran hcs?

This post smells like BO, I think...

Aran is a strange lad to be sure. Everyone thinks he's a chaotic mess and a general nuisance, but in reality he's actually very chill! If you catch him on his own he's way quieter, albeit still loud but at least a bearable amount. He'll also crack jokes, have a good laugh, and if you're lucky he won't even say anything violent.

His top 'enemies' are Don, Narcis and Macho. 'Enemies' as in his favourite victims for pranks and other assorted Aran activities.. such as stealing Don's toupee and sticking it on a dog, replacing Narcis' shampoo with blended bananas or doing whatever the hell he feels like to Macho because Macho's too dull to predict anything. Not to mention all three of them have the best reactions, Don cusses him out in Spanish, Narcis cusses him out with some very creative nonsensical insults and Macho either gets confused or runs off screaming to Sandman.

Aran has a surprising amount of pets. Two weasels called Tom and Jerry (reference intended), a cat called Lucky, and a few lizards named Burren, Porter, Druid and Mulligan (all names of Irish pubs that Aran has definitely been to).

Aran is the biggest pansexual you'll ever see. He'll take anybody who comes his way, and then move on right after. The longest relationship he ever had lasted a week, and that was because he was in a coma for half of that week and couldn't tell her that he wanted to break up. The moment he woke up he asked her for a fiver and then went home and never spoke to her again. He continues to just take whatever comes along, but maybe beneath all of it he wants to find someone who can stay.

Aran got arrested for trying to fight a giant inflatable Santa when he got drunk, he spent a week in jail because he let all the animals out of a petting zoo, and another time he was arrested for illegally owning a pigeon (he called it Sky-Rat, when it was taken away he almost cried).

On a more serious note, he's been charged with assault 2 times because of some tedious fights.

Aran has some peculiar scars. He has a scar resembling a '7' on his chest because a fishing hook got caught on him whilst he was out with his Dad, but he also has one on his thigh because he tried to dive off a cliff and knocked himself on a rock.

He has one sibling, a younger sister named Erin. Their Mum, Fiona, thought it would be cute to give them similar names but they both hate it.

His Mum is in prison and his Dad is long gone, so he looks after Erin on his own.

His birthday is January 8th, the release date of the first Leprechaun movie.

Of course Aran can't drive. He's had his licence confiscated on five seperate occassions, but that doesn't stop him from finding a way to hop behind the wheel anyway.. just don't hop behind the wheel with him because you will either break something or die.

He is an absolute master at hiding pain. Usually he doesn't mind a bit of a sting but when things get bad (which they do), he hates to show it. There's a reason for it, that being..

He's deathly afraid of doctors.

Aran sneaks rides to Hondo's house so they can hang out together, plus he gets along well with Hondo's cat because they're both little bastards.

Huge anime fan. Similar to pain, he's a master at hiding it.

A very skilled artist! Not that he'd let anybody see his work..

He's a massive fan of fluffy pillows. There's nothing better than going home after a long day of making everybody elses day worse and snuggling into a poofy mass.

When his hair isn't in a ponytail he pretty much has a mullet.

Most of the time he has a four-leaf clover earing on his right ear, it's part of his brand.

He has a nickname for every boxer, albeit very uncreative ones. Examples include 'Cats' for Tiger and 'Bubbles' for Soda.

In the A-Bracket, Aran gets along best with Tiger and Hondo. His rival is Don.

In the B-Bracket, Aran gets along best with.. none of them, he doesn't go near them much because they smell like Narcis, who is of course his rival.

[hinatastinygiant]

4 | Moss

Pairing: Bokuto x Fem!Reader

Escapism Masterlist

"Admit it was yours and that you've got a problem. Then I'll think about promising that," Kuroo tells you as Bokuto draws closer to the booth you're sitting at. But before you can come up with an answer, Bokuto's sliding into the seat beside Kuroo and across from you.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto beams. "What're we talking about?"

"Y/N's crack problem," Kuroo smiles innocently at his friend.

"Oh, you bitch," you grumble under your breath as you give him a death glare.

"What the hell are you doing smoking crack?!" Bokuto whispers sternly at you, not wanting to attract attention to your conversation. Something he's worked very hard on ever since high school.

"I'm just sniffing, not smoking. And it's not crack, it's coke," you huff.

Bokuto rolls his eyes at your shitty clap back. "I really don't understand how your brain works, Y/N," he admits aloud.

"Care to explain it to us, Y/N?" Kuroo grins in agreement with Bokuto.

"I need an escape somehow. What else can I do?" you shrug. "Phoebe's got her special friends. Kenji's got his drinking problem..."

"Don't act like you're innocent in any of that either, Y/N," Kuroo warns you.

"Can't you just hook up with a bunch of strangers to cope with your problems like everybody else?" Bokuto sighs.

"I have, but it lasts for way less time than a high!"

"Cheaper though," Kuroo shrugs, half joking.

"Can you find another outlet then?" Bokuto asks you. "How's school going?"

"You want me to make school my new addiction?" you look at him with a deadpanned face. "Are you serious? Business classes are a freaking joke. I hardly need to study for those open textbook quizzes we get every week."

"What about finals?" he then shrugs.

"They're all either essays or some stupid group project," you tell him.

The three of you then sit in silence for a minute. You've got no idea what to say. At least they're not just yelling at you like they did the last time the three of you discussed your coke addiction.

"Shit," Bokuto then suddenly looks up. "Grandpa's in the kitchen by himself. I gotta go. Y/N, if you ever need to talk, I'm here and so is Kuroo, okay?"

"I know," you smile back at him. "Thanks, Bo."

"You're welcome," he nods as he stands up. "See you guys later!"

"Well, the big idiot forgot to give us the check," Kuroo sighs. "Suppose they're putting it on our tab with everything else we still owe?"

"You've got a tab?" you ask curiously. "I always have to pay!"

"Guess Bo doesn't like you as much then," he winks, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyway, where to now?"

"Well, there's no way I can just show up to my parents' house faded as shit and still hungover."

"Okay, back to the dorms then," Kuroo sighs.

After you walk out of the diner, Kuroo drives you back to the dorms. Together, you make your way to his room where Kenma was previously hanging out on his own.

"Hey Kenma," you wave as you walk into the room. "You know it reeks in here right?"

"Are you the cops?" he grumbles as he looks at you from over his phone. His eyes are bright red, telling you that he's higher than you at the moment.

"Not if you share some of that," you grin.

"Hey now," Kuroo interrupts as he steps between the two of you. "You really shouldn't be smoking. Didn't you hear anything Bo said to you?"

"Of course I did," you reply as you pat his cheek. "He said to find a different outlet. Maybe weed can be it instead of coke!" you smile as though you've made some kind of scientific breakthrough.

Kuroo groans at your response, but steps aside as Kenma hands you his dab pen. You quickly take in a deep breath of the smoke and blow it out with a sigh.

"Maybe if you get in on this you'll stop being such a dick," you tell Kuroo.

"Real charming, Y/N," he rolls his eyes as he snatches it out of your hand. "But maybe if I use it up there will be nothing left for you. Kinda like what you did with that powder from last night."

"There's still a bit left," you smirk. "Why, do you want some?"

"Fuck off," he shakes his head, blowing the smoke in your direction before handing the pen back to Kenma. "Thanks, man," he then coughs out.

"Why do you guys always bicker like an old couple?" Kenma sighs as he places his lips on the pen.

"Cause Y/N loves me so much," Kuroo teases.

"As if," you grin as you jump up on Kenma's bed and sit beside him. "Ya know, I heard Kuroo's got a bit crush on someone else actually."

"And who would that be," he rolls his eyes.

"Well, if I remember correctly, the last time you saw my friend Phoebe, you nearly shit your pants," you tease. "Maybe that's why you never want to come to my room."

"Or," he rolls his eyes, "it's cause she's always got someone visiting."

"Careful what you're insinuating, Kuroo," you narrow your eyes at him.

"Is it true?" Kenma then asks, finding the conversation interesting for once.

"Is what true?" Kuroo shrugs, not wanting to answer any questions.

"Is that why you've been acting different lately? No girls around. Going to bed at a reasonable hour. You like Phoebe?" he acts, backing up his confusion with good reasoning.

"Are you guys for real? Since when do you two obsess over drama? No. I don't like Phoebe. I've just been focusing more on school, okay? It's not so easy for all of us like it is for you, Y/N."

"Alright, fine, I get it. Sorry Kuroo," you shrug as he walks off to grab water from his mini fridge.

"It's fine," he shakes his head. While his back is turned, Kenma looks at you and shrugs, mouthing 'that was weird' so Kuroo doesn't hear him.

Escapism Masterlist

[castle-dominion]

going to watch rise 4x1 audio commentary I think. director/exec producer rob bowman, actors jon huertas, seamus dever, tamala jones

while eating supper & you play him well Yeah as much info as short as u can!

TJ: This was a hard day bc everybody was joking around & I had to cry & be serious! She went to go touch her chin but had blood on her

SD: It was hard because usually you're listening to the other actor but here we were both just yelling into our phones walking down the hallway as fast as we can & I'm like "I keep saying your lines bro" TJ: what was really hard was being strapped to that gurney, trying to get lines out, bursting through doors

Good! They got a med tech in there helping choreograph

They didn't show the shove I gave him back tho

Susan sullivan is a great actress. Marta, the butcher of south london. She cuts for emotion, doesn't care what your story board said.

Yeah I was actually thinking about how they wree just... in the hallway. I didn't care tho I just assumed I was being silly.

& [the rifle] is pointing at castle See that's a good director.

your WHAT NOW? I know you called him mystery man, the other name, no not shadow man either, that name: deep throat. Pardon me??

WAIT WHAT SHADOW MAN WAS THE DOCTOR WALKING BEHIND CASTLE WHEN CASTLE CHECKS HIS HAIR????? Seemingly an ally

TJ while RB is talking about ILYs & GSWs: could that man be any hotter?

RB: i had to promise stana that I would make her look like a cadaver

RB: did she hear it did she not? Me: Oh who knows? She probably DID hear it, but she claimed to remember everything & there is NO WAY she remembers everything. TJ: Oh she heard it she just chose not to answer

I didn't even notice that the man had two phones, funnily enough it was a flip phone & a touchscreen

"we were scared it was going to be an 80s movie"

TJ, interrupting the convo: OH MY GOD SD: stop looking at my ass TJ: SEAMUS, YOUR BUTT SD: don't look at my ass there TJ: I AM LOOKING AT YOUR BUTT SD: Idk why it was lit so well! TJ: THEY WERE JUST PERKED UP, THEY WERE LIKE SITTING UP HIGH, like boing-oing-oing-oing-oing SD: why did Bill light my ass so-- RB: Children may be watching this *laughter, "sorry," & convo goes back to looking like an 80s movie* my mom when we paused to laugh: (speaking at TJ) "They were just Up There, right at eye level!" *holds her hands up to show how "perked up" his booty was* mister seamus dever if you're reading this (if you are then: why? that's weird) I would like to apologize for the actions of myself & my mom & my (hot+gay) older bro (I'll give u his # /j)

SD: Penny. Jonas. Jerald. PJJ as we--.. as I call her. I didn't even as. RB: affetionately

Well bc she's a woman in a male dominated place. Like big bro's mash character. I had a teacher once, I'd say "yes ma'am" all the time but she said it made her feel old. She told me to call her superstar or smth so I started saying "you got it superstar" & it was nice. She even wrote it on my IPP/PLP/SP once. Then FNAF came out & everyone thought I was quoting freddy but I had been saying it for years before freddy.

Paranoid ryan <3 he wasn't paranoid he was just noid

JH/JE: I shoot [gates] winks every once in a while that's my plan SD/KR: I think you're hitting on her

SD: I like how my character has knowledg eof people magazine RB: seam-lessly ; )

wow ok I just had to make a card, STOP making a card, sign a card that someone miscommunicated with my abt, break down & put away my calligraphy pen, listen to my older brother rant about the new DHMIS (which I'm excited abt too) & then listen to "the one thing they can never replace" by john mulaney. Wow

I was right! When I saw the superhero episode I knew it was her! SD: When my wife saw it she was like "Who is that? Why was she so featured?" & I went 'just keep watching, watch next week.'

NO, there was that one time when they made a bet on a murder & caskett was working on one murder & rysposito was working on the other, ofc eventually they became the same case but other than that

THE WHAT? PAPARAZZI UNDERWEAR? WAIT WHAT

they're just watching now, not commenting

SD: I want to hear her, "hey beckett can you get me a cup of coffee?" 'I WAS SHOT IN THE CHEST'

Oh yeah the nanny episode but no they did not sit on the swingset I love hearing them talk about framing & set & decisions

We're in the middle of a third act & we're like "hey so what's the murder about"

oh I didn't notice they remodeled the captain's office! hm! I'm glad they mentioned & explained that. traditional vs masculine, power, all that good stuff. JH: nice grouping

TJ: Gates has a wedding band on. Is she married? RB: Yes to the guy who killed beckett RB: no, idk TJ: but is she with a guy or a girl? Nah she's sadly def with a man. Everyone: but it's new york, it's new york state, *implying that they can still give her a wife* wait holy crap this is before 2015. ny was 2011 tho apparently.

HOLY CRAP that whistle scared me, my older bro has a whistle that means my little brother & a whistle that means me, like in the sound of music, & whenever I hear it I always look. One time a friend at culinary school just whistled, then my head shot up & I was staring at him & he was kind of scared like "what? why are you looking at me" & I had to explain that my brother's whistle language that was like calling my name. Then he would occasionally do it on purpose just to see me jump in shock "big bro isn't here is he?" & there was actually one time we were both heading in to school late, around 6.45am & he whistled from the other hallway & we were able to say hi.

"some parts of this story are dramatized for impact" "JON LEFT WITHOUT TELLING ANYBODY"

Bubble wrap...?

Yeah. I couldn't even see the amps sorry.

You're a drummer rob? They totally should have had him cameo as the frummer in the band or smth

SD: we're playing that jon (JE) is the only one that can talk to her & I (kr) kind of freeze up. Also u apparently can't lie. espt trained not to give up information RB: PJJ came up to me & asked where she was & I said "You're learning very quickly that they all lie" & she's figuring out what to tolerate & what to punish bc they still solve murders. "& we're trying to figure out how we feel about her"

Beckett's place is a permanent set now!

"I give you enough close-ups, you don't need to say that" SD: when other directors tell me 'take your time think through your lines' I say "When you tell me that I get a visual image of rob bowman looking at a watch" (I think /j) just see rob in editing looking over marta's shoulder (sd speaking as marta) "who directed this, rob?"

What is e4? big speeches? wait is that 3xk number two? Ooh I hope they do commentary on that one wait no it is #4, they would not comment on it, crud.

RB as castle: "I'm just a writer who got bored, now I'm getting scary phone calls from scary people"

TJ: Molly has grown <3 uwu RB: Yeah I remember back when she was sweet TJ, sounding like she'd slap him: She's still sweet! RB: not what I meant SD: She's a cagey adult JH: She's a cagey teenager SD: She's a cagey teenager JH: She's a cagey teenager who thinks she's an adult TJ: She schooled me in some of my scenes!

TJ, interrupting the emotional "let becks solve the case" moment they're discussing: Ok girlie moment, Look at that place! Who wouldn't want that? *nice bed, nice furniture, nice wall,* RB: *continues talking about castle teeing beckett up* SD+JH laugh: nobody followed up to your girly moment 'cause you're the only girl here right now you know that might be fun, have all the gals comment. SK MQ SS TJ, prolific women BTS too

RB: Castle can't lift the mattress & carry the scene at the same time JH+SD: No he just couldn't lift the mattress, it was a heavy mattress

rock star skinny jeans apparently my aunt had a friend who would get dressed in the bathtub & let her pants dry to her skin bc they were that tight

JH: Good thing she's there rn bc esposito would have shot that guy by now TJ: right between the eyes JH: hell yeah (ew, cops are not lawyers nor judges, they don't have that power)

SD: Speaking of shotguns do you know what jon got be for christmas? Um what? I have farming family we have guns, I have metis family we go hunting, but us in the city? We don't. Do regular actors living in the big city have guns? just? have guns? get each other guns for xmas? I thought it was really cool for a sec until I realized that he really had no need for a gun. None of my business tho! Guns are fascinating! I mean, if you want to fight someone, do it the honourable way with fists & feet but this is none of my business. I mean he has to protect his home from the impending apocalypse ig.

for now <3

TJ is SO right.

JH: He's got a touch screen too? SD: He's rich of course he's got a touchscreen

Michael Dorn JH: Fanboy moment, I was wrapped & I just hung out for 45 minutes just bc I wanted to meet him

everyone else: thanks for watching SD: *whistling the outro music*

[sparrowsingsstories]

The Hope and Avery Show

For @kyngsnake and his Avery, interacting with my Hope and @alder-berry Sean & Kae (and my Selena).

Because these five would be Danse's worst nightmare or maybe his best squad or probably both. Off-screen is the last member - Deacon, aka Keith, who joined the BOS with Hope to infiltrate and hates being on the Prydwen.

Only 841 words but I'm throwing most of it under a cut to save you.

It was a pretty typical evening on the Prydwen, if such things as typical evenings existed in the far flung future of the Commonwealth. Hope figured typical anything had flown out the window the moment her pod spat her out, still thawing, onto the cold concrete. It had been months ago, but she still liked to ponder it. The fact that only two people had made it out of Vault 111, that she had ended up in some military outfit, that she was currently sitting with her feet dangling thousands of feet above the relic of the Boston Airport…

A body landed next to her and she glanced over, unsurprised to see Avery, Knight Avery, her partner in crime. Well, one of her partners in crime. Her squad seemed to be made-up of people destined to stand out because of ability and because they seemed to draw trouble like dirt to a toddler.

“Avery,” she murmured.

“Hope.”

“Where’s Danse?”

“Yelling at Keith.”

Hope grinned. “Keith,” was Deacon, and he had infiltrated the BOS with her. She found it hilarious that he had to be Keith, considering that was how he had first introduced himself to her. He wasn’t a bad soldier, per se, but his mouth ran off at the least provocation. And Paladin Danse was just one big provocation to Deacon.

“Well, it’ll keep them occupied for a bit. And then Keith won’t see me sitting on the edge and pass out again.”

Avery shot her a look. “One of these days he’s going to fall off and then where will we be?”

“In a vertibird going after him?”

Avery chuckled, kicking his feet a bit as his shoulders shook. Hope grinned at his amusement. Granted, Deacon was deeply afraid of heights, and she did make him come up here all the time, but he was the one who had said he was good with joining with her. Not her fault they were stationed on the BOS’ version of a floating citadel.

The wind began to kick up as a vertibird came in to dock. It blew past the Prydwen, buzzing the landing deck and making several Lancer-Initiates shake their fists in anger. Next to her, Avery gave a heartfelt groan. Only one Lancer made anybody make that noise, Sean Kennedy.

Sure enough, a shiny vertibird sporting several non-regulation modifications docked with the Prydwen. The bird was painted a glossy black and had the Brotherhood of Steel in stylized script across the bridge of the nose. Emblazoned on the side of the bird was a pin-up of a man wearing skimpy knight under armor, posing like the Nuka Cola girl riding a mini-gun, and with mini nukes for tits. Sean Kennedy’s bird. The vertibird powered down and Sean slid out of the bird and stretched. 

“Another successful flight,” He bragged, wincing as a petite woman with a cap of black hair climbed out behind him and slapped the back of his head. “Ow!”

“You dumbass. We’re all going to be in trouble because of you,” Selena, the other Lancer, grumbled.

“He’s less of a dumbass and more of a smartass,” a woman in Knight under armor said, getting out behind Selena.

“I don’t know, Kae, look at his face. Has dumbass written all over it,” Selena said.

“Hi Sean,” Hope yelled, waving and grinning as Sean waved back.

“Hey Cupcake. Hiya, Handsome. What’s a good lookin man like you doin on a beat-up piece of shit like this?” Sean asked, leering a little at Avery.

“Enjoying the view,” Avery said, waggling his eyebrows at Sean.

“Wanna…see my bird?” Sean was sauntering over to them, hips swaying temptingly.

“Maybe later, big boy,” Avery said. “Especially if Keith ends up fainting and falling off.”

“You need a rescue, I’m your man,” Sean said, tipping an imaginary hat at both of them. “Where is your sidekick, Cupcake?”

“Getting reamed by Danse.”

“Isn’t that Avery’s job?” Selena asked, pinching Sean’s cheek as she walked past them.

Hope snickered as Avery seemed to stare off into the distance with a look of sheer, unadulterated lust. Selena snorted.

“I was wrong. You’re the dumbass,” she said to Avery, who turned his nose up at the commentary.

“Come on, sweet thing. We can sit out here or we can go shower,” Kae said, giving Selena a significant look.

“Right. Before your brother tries to join us again.”

“Last one has to do the laundry,” Kae said, shoving past Sean, who tottered close to the edge and caught himself on Hope. “Sorry, Sean!” she yelled, trying to get through the door inside before Selena could.

Hope watched as Sean chased after them, shoving both of them out of the way and tearing off into the Prydwen. From inside came angry Danse noises. Deacon slowly peeked through the door, saw Hope with her legs dangling over the edge of the Prydwen, paled, and slammed the door shut.

Hope glanced at Avery, who just shrugged at her.

“Want to get beers later?” Hope asked.

“Yeah. Let’s not tell them.”

“Deal.”

[house-of-slayterr]

What do you think the Sinclairs reactions would be to their afab partner coming out to the be?

Demi:

You gathered the boys together, you figured it would be easier if you just ripped off the bandaid. So you waited until just before dinner as to try not to make a scene, and begged Vincent to stay. Normally he walked off to his art den to eat alone, but you just wanted to talk real quick. The man looked concerned, but you quickly assured him nothing was wrong.

“Sugar, you’re scaring me. Something the matter?” Bo asked.

He grew quite fond of you, though he’d never admit it out loud, it was obvious too his two brothers. You shook your head.

“Naw Bo, just when something important I wanted to tell you all. You’re my boys and you’re important to me.”

Bo’s face dropped. He thought maybe this was it, you finally grew bored of them and wanted to leave. He was gonna cut you off so he wouldn’t feel the sting, but Lester saw the gears turning in his brothers head and was quick to stop him.

“Relax Bo, let her speak.”

You cringed a little. Vincent took notice of this and signed a quick “you ok?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to y’all about.” You mutteredz

The boys looked confused but you had their full attention.

“I don’t like it much when you call me She. It don’t feel right. I’m a girl in the same way you all aren’t killers. I can pretend to be all I want, but at the end of the day, we all know the truth.”

You grew anxious when non of them spoke. You began to fidget with your hands but Vincent was quick to grab them. He used his free hand to ask you a question?

“What are you?”

It sounded so foreign, but you knew what he meant. ASL wasn’t exactly the most delicate language, usually it was quite blunt and to the point.

“Demi girl I think. Like I still feel feminine I guess, just not like a girl.”

“We’ll all right then sugar plum, what do y’a want us to call y’a?” Lester spoke up.

“They/Them pronouns are fine.” You spoke slowly, trying to decide if they felt right on your own tongue.

Bo still had yet to speak and your worried he’d reject you.

“Bo?” You asked, knocking him out of his trance.

He cleared his throat and spoke up.

“So you won’t be my pretty girl anymore?” He asked.

It was cute, the puppy dog eyes he gave you. He was usually never this vulnerable in front of his brothers. So you knew he meant it, and was trying his best. You chuckled lightly, amused at the question.

“Just for you Bo. Everybody else gotta call me something different.”

He smiled and the three of you went on eating dinner like nothing had changed. Except Vincent felt more at ease today, and ate with you all up at the dinner table.

Nonbianry:

You’d been hanging out with Lester all day. Helping him collect road kill and playing with Jonesy. You threw some animal viens for the dog to play fetch with. Everything was perfect. Except something was bothering you, so you finally decided to speak up.

“Hey Les, can I talk to you for a min?”

You had that boys full attention in a heartbeat. He was worried when you spoke so seriously.

“Something wrong doll?”

You blushed at the nickname. It was cute and all, but only cause it was Lester saying it. If anyone else called you that, you might just punch them.

“Nothing serious, just wanted to tell you something’s all”

“We’ll go on ahead. I don’t bite.” He joked.

Petting Jonesy’s fur for emphases. You laughed a little.

“Here it goes I guess. I don’t really like you calling me Doll Les, it feels too feminine. And I don’t really feel very feminine if y’a know what I mean?”

He had this confused look on his face, and you’d didn’t blame him. You weren’t really explaining things right.

“I’m not a girl Les. I don’t really feel like one. Don’t really feel like much honestly.”

“We’ll Alrighty then Do-, we’ll what do you suppose I call you. Wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing and upset you now.”

You smiled at his kindness, he was trying so hard.

“I don’t mind it when you call me love bug every now and again. That one’s kinda cute. And if you could start using They/Them. Pronouns with me, that would be cool.”

“You got it Love Bug, suppose we should tell my brothers yeah. Don’t want them disrespecting you.”

“You think they’ll be cool with it?”

“Course they will. The love y’a, Bo’s a hard ass but he really does care. Might slip up a little but he’ll try, you’re important to him. Besides, I think Vincent might understand more than y’a think. He don’t really give off manly man vibes like Bo does, I seen him do his makeup under his mask once.”

You blushed at the thought of Vincent wearing makeup. Lester let out a huff, snapping his fingers.

“Ugh, what do y’a call it?”

“Nonbianry?”

“Yeah! I think old Vin might be a bit like you in that way. So don’t stress to much. They’re gonna love y’a no matter what gender you are. You’re the best damn thing in this town and we’re lucky to have y’a!”

And Lester was right, the boys were hardly surprised when you came out to them. Bo did mess up from time to time, but you cut him some slack cause you could tell he was trying his best.

Masculine:

You were in the house of wax, looking at Vincent’s art like you did when you needed to think. And you had a lot on your mind lately. At lot had changed since you came to Ambrose, and you were worried that change would make the boys you’d grown to love, hate you.

Vincent had heard your foot steps and came up to greet you. You were the only one who came around this time of day, so he knew he’d find you. But when he saw you lost in thought he gré concerned. He knocked on the door, alerting you to his presence. When you jumped he knew something was wrong. You were usually pretty good about telling when someone was around.

“What’s wrong love?” He signed.

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about art boy.” You’d taken to calling him.

He wasn’t convinced though. He sat down on the bench beside you. You sat in silence for a while before you finally caved.

“Vin, you ever feel like you’re not who you’re supposed to be?”

That question was a tad concerning to him, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“All the time.”

You offered him a weak smile at this. You know he didn’t mean it in the same way as you. How could he?

“Would you still like me if I wasn’t a girl? Like if I didn’t look like this.”

The man paused. What an odd question. Of course he’d still love you, you were, you! When he didn’t respond right away you kept going

“If I were a boy I mean. You think Bo would kick me out?”

“No” he spoke.

You were shocked, you’d never heard him speak before. You knew it hurt his throat.

“We love you” he spoke slowly.

You could tell it strained his throat and this made you weepy. He loved you so damn much he was willing to talk to you in your time of comfort. You pulled him into a hug.

“You always know just what to say Vincent.”

When he pulled away he went back to signing. Honestly you would lie if you said you weren’t disappointed. But you’d never forget the sound of his voice saying he loved you. Besides, you loved watching him sign, or watching his hands do anything for that matter.

“Name?” He asked.

“Umm, Y/N I guess. I like the sound of it.”

Vincent gave you a sign telling you he loved it.

“Help me tell the others?” You asked.

He nodded and escorted you up the house were Lester was setting the table and Bo was cooking dinner. Bo smiled when he saw you and you sheepishly hid behind Vincent.

“What’s wrong with ‘er?” He asked, absentmindedly.

Vincent felt you tense behind him and frowned beneath his mask. He decided to rip the bandaid off for you. Signing “not girl” at his brother. Bo raised a brow, looking at you. Lester looked confused.

“Not sure if I saw that right Vin, who’s not a girl?”

Vincent pointed at you, and you sheepishly waved, this not being how you expected things to go at all. Bo lowered the temp on the stove and turned his full attention on you now. A shit eating grin on his face.

“We’ll shit sugar, I could have told y’a that! You were Lester’s clothes have the time and play around in that filthy pit of his. I ain’t know no girls who like that shit.”

“You don’t hate me?” You asked, stunned at his response.

“Course not. If I loved you just cause you were a girl, well I’d be no better than my parents now would I? I’m a killer, not an animal. What name y’a picked out?”

“Y/N!” You said more confidently this time.

“I Like it, suits y’a bear cub” Lester complimented.

He started calling you that after the two of you managed to free a stray bear from Ken of the traps in the woods. And the poor scared thing wouldn’t leave your side the rest of the night. Kept trying to snuggle on you. He also called you “snow white” from time to time, but he figured you wouldn’t want to be compared to a princess.

“Is that all you wanted to tell us?” Bo asked.

You nodded. Bo smiled.

“Now be a good boy and help Lester set the table, yeah?”

You blushed like a mad man!

An: you didn’t specify what they came out as so I gave three options lol. Didn’t want to make Bo a bigot in this one, cause some of us deserve happiness 😭

[hannya-writes]

I Like You The Way You Are

Original Request: thanks @maisygd

Title: I like you the way you are

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Young!Derek HalexArgent!Reader

Other characters: Peter Hale (Because he's a little shit and I love him) Paige (can't remember her last name), mention of Kate Argent

Category: Romance, can I put Flashback as a category?, REQUESTED 

Warnings: Emm, none.. this is very fluffy, it's almost a slice of life

Author's note: Reader is the same age as Derek so that must be like… 15? Also, this came out really late because I didn't like the result and re-wrote it like...5 times, but finally, here it is.

• • •

Paige pulled for you to follow her, you had a loud growl of laziness but didn't offer any resistance. She giggled and took the hall to the gym.

— Paige, come on! Give me a break! — your words were the only resistance you gave — last night I was awake till three in the morning! —

— doing what? — she asked while pushing the door of the gym, where there was a bunch of boys playing basketball.

— homework — you said, following her to the bench.

— we don't have homework — she said, making you regret your answer.

— we... Don't have Advanced chemistry together, it's chemistry homework — you tried to fix your mistake.

— oh, right. I'm going to tell you that I believe you... But I don't — she said giggling and you both sat down.

— like me when you say Derek's not your boyfriend! — you muttered and Paige turned in your direction.

— he is not my boyfriend — she said in a whisper —

— then why did you bring me here? — you asked, pointing to the whole gym, Paige laughed.

— Derek is my friend and I would like my best girl friend to get along with my best bo-male friend — Paige said, avoiding saying the word boy near to friend.

— He plays basketball — you point at the players, then at you — I play lacrosse, we can't get along! It's in the rules! — you said in a shout whisper, making Paige huff.

— just be nice — she pleaded and you rolled your eyes.

��� Great! Now I have to pretend to be someone I'm not! — you sighed and Paige looked at you with sad eyes — I don't promise anything — your made her smile a bit. It made you feel guilty.

You had met her in music class. She played the Cello and you the violin. You were far from each other, actually in the two ends of the room and you started making faces at her since she was so concentrated in playing her part. She was too serious. It had been unavoidable. Paige had tried to ignore you, but you got her attention and she started making mistakes. It was the beginning of a great friendship.

— So... This is Y/n — the sudden appearance of Derek took you by surprise. The basketball game had ended, everyone was leaving.

— Y/n, yeah, that's me — you said, suddenly feeling extremely nervous, Derek Hale was a popular boy in your school, everybody loved him. He was a star of basketball and the crush of way too many girls but not yours, of course not.

— hey I-um... I'm Derek Hale — you wondered why he stuttered, he smiled and you managed to give back a smile.

— cool, nice to meet you—  you said not knowing what else to say. Paige snorted and chuckled, then stood up.

— ok, let's go — she said, leading the way out of the gym, Derek and you followed her while giving each other side glances.

After a couple of weeks you did warm up to the basketball player that Paige had decided to befriend.

— what's so funny about Basketball anyway? — you asked holding the ball in your hands, Derek looked at you offended — you can throw the ball from everywhere —

— yeah, but that doesn't mean you are not going to fail — he said, rolling his eyes at you. — what about lacrosse? —

— here we go again! — Paige muttered for herself as her two best friends started another fight about sports. It amused her, but she knew how things were going to end, with one of them asking for her support.

— really? Again? — a tired voice took the three of you by surprise.

— Peter, what are you doing here? — Derek asked, a bit annoyed, you looked at the boy in front of you and smiled.

— your mom's looking for you but if I can give my opinion, I'm on Y/n side — he commented and you smiled victorious.

— ha! Told you! — you said to Derek taking the ball from him — wait, how do you know my name? — you asked, suddenly stopping from celebrate.

— Y/n Argent, you made a great pass in the last game — his words made you blush and both of your friends noticed it. Paige giggled at it, Derek on the other hand seemed annoyed.

— well, thank you — you answered still smiling, Derek took his backpack and walked straight to Peter, pushing him to leave the gym

— you know him? — you asked Paige, going for your bag, she shook her head.

— Derek mentioned him before — she said and you tilted your head — his name is Peter —

Peter recognized the distinct smell of rampant hormones in his nephew. He was in love. His annoyance and silent treatment gave him away. It also gave him an idea.

— She is pretty — he teased him when they were closer to the Hale House.

Derek jumped over him, throwing him to the ground, fangs out and teeth bared to intimidate his uncle. — sensitive topic uh? — he added nonchalantly despite his position.

— Derek! — the scolding voice of Talia stopped the younger wolf, he retracted his fangs and stood up.

— stay away from her — he threatened harshly.

It had been months since that incident, life was boring, monotone. School, homework, lacrosse, home, bed. A simple cycle.

— you ok? — Derek asked, taking you by surprise, you jumped in your place and looked at him a bit panicked.

— Gezz, Der you startle me, I thought the coach had found me — you said and sighed with relief.

— Yeah, well don't worry, it's just me — he sat down by your side. You lied back down in your little hideout under the stairs of the gym

— you are skipping class too? — you asked, looking at the back of the stairs.

— yeah, I was worried about you — he admitted and you laughed.

— why are you worried? — you asked turning to look at him

— for starters you are skipping ED class, that's weird — he said frowning — second, you had been avoiding Paige today — he pointed out and you smiled with sadness — and last, you usually call me "Hale" —

— I'm just tired — you said with sadness

— you could have stayed the day in your house — you made a face, Derek looked at you still frowning — something wrong? —

— I don't want to be with my family — you said making a sound like a growl, Derek laughed. — Don't laugh, they are horrible — you added but Derek looked at you with an expression that said by itself "seriously?"

— what did they do? — he asked and you bite your tongue, you weren't supposed to tell anyone about your family. They were hunters.

— have you met Kate? — you asked and he muttered a yes. — well, she is my cousin,and she is barely at the top of the Iceberg... —

— I thought you were sisters — Derek said  bemused by your words.

— oh no! God no! — you laughed — we are cousins, my parents died a couple of years ago, that's why I live with my aunt and uncle— Derek's eyes widened and became speechless.

— I'm sorry — he said finally — I mean, It must be hard —

— It's ok, Death is something that happens — Derek smelled the sadness in you and turned in your direction to hug you.

— it's fine to miss them — he said and you closed your eyes. Pressed against his chest you felt safe, something you hadn't felt in a long time. The tears started falling by themselves.

— I don't want to be like them — you muttered between sobs, he caressed your back giving you the comfort you needed. He didn't ask anything, he just held you. It was nice to let go.

It was an hour later when you spoke again.

— my uncle want me to learn the family  business — you said pulling away to sit. Derek looked at you perplexed.

— you don't have to — Derek shrugged and you looked at him with sadness — you just have to be you — he said as an answer, he made it seem so easy.

— Yeah, right — you giggled even if it was sarcasm.

— what? — he asked, taken aback — I like you the way you are, he has no right to change you — he sounded a bit annoyed. His casual confession left you speechless.

— what? — you asked surprised for those words, in that specific order: "I like you the way you are" — Careful, Der, I don't wanna break you apart from Paige — you joked, he laughed with you

— I mean it, I like you — he said and in the shadows under the stairs your blood swirled to your cheeks in embarrassment.

— shut up, you're gonna make me believe you like-like me— you said in a teasing tone.

— I do — he admitted leaving you speechless — I like you — he repeated and you blink surprised, his hand caressed your cheek and you leaned into the touch. He gets closer and you can only look between his eyes and his lips.

You breathe softly, slowly. Exhalations mixing as you grow closer until there's no more space between you two. Lips sealed in each other. Your answer was obvious.

— I like you too — you answered after tasting the lips of the boy who had catch your attention a long time ago.

— good, cause I asked Paige to present me to you — he admitted and you kissed him again, that time you wrapped your arms in his neck. Taking another try of his taste, and he was willing to give it to you.

[azertyrobaz]

Comfortember 2022 - Day#20: Self-care

That was it, he’d had enough – it was impossible to have any constructive conversation with them. Their one and only suggestion was to attack, right now. Why did they have to be so stubborn? Why didn’t they believe him when he told them there was another way? Why couldn’t they see it would be best for everybody if they just agreed to join forces and set aside their differences? At least for now?

Why did they have to be so Mandalorian?

Din sighed and decided he deserved a treat, even if it was a very small one. So he dug around in the deep freezer of the new Crest – he wondered when he’d stop referring to it as ‘new’, but it would probably still take a while – and hoped with all his might that there was still a serving at the bottom. He was certain he’d left one, to be used only in such emergencies, and he’d done his best to hide it from the kid. Din refused to feel guilty when he finally found it. Grogu was currently having a grand time – every time they visited his tribe, the little one barely touched the ground, and went from the arms of one gushing Mando to another, all day long.

This krill gumbo was serious business and he hoped he wouldn’t be disturbed while he took a small break. Once it had warmed up, he sat down at the table of their small kitchen nook – this new Crest was really quite something – and hesitated for about half a second to raise the gangway. But one, he was too hungry. And two, it would look suspicious and he’d be bound to have visitors, which was the last thing he wanted right now.

No, right now was only about him, and this wonderful food he could only bring back in small quantities from Sorgan. It was simply divine. The balance of strong flavored krill, bell peppers, onions, celery, okra and spice was absolutely perfect. Din closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a sound of deep contentment escaping him. He was back on the lush planet. Where everything was quiet, and peaceful, and lovely. Where everyone –

“Do you and your bowl of soup need to get a room or something?”

The crass remark could have only come from one person, and Din opened his eyes with a long suffering sigh.  

“This isn’t soup, this is gumbo,” he felt the need to point out, teeth set. Had it been mere soup, he would have already launched the bowl at Paz Vizsla’s head.

Din decided on the spot that since it had been the last of the gumbo, he was due a trip to Sorgan. And maybe he’d stay there for a while and let his tribe fight Bo-Katan’s to the death, why did he even care.

[gravesightings]

The slashers reacting to someone who isn't fazed by gore and blood. Something like the slashers walking into the house covered in blood and the s/o is all like "Don't leave blood stains on my carpet, thank you very much."

changed it up a bit per slasher if that’s cool with you. loved writing this by the way. thanks for requesting!

slashers reactions to: a s/o unfazed by gore and blood

Asa Emory / The Collector

...you’re not screaming your head off? he was sure you’d leave him right then and there when he had slit an intruder’s throat right in front of you.

would you like to see his collection? beware my dear, it’s not for the faint-hearted! watches for your reaction with great intensity. do you still love him? are you positive?

tests out just how much violence you can witness before you crack. unfortunately for you, asa might have forgotten to give you a head’s up beforehand.

was he threatening you...? it’s hard to tell. he doesn’t seem to want to hurt you though. all the displays of violence were presented to you almost. was he showing off, then?

once he had even brought you along to a victim’s home (fully-rigged) to watch him work. when you dismissively asked him what he wants for dinner after the whole escapade he’s left stunned. oh, he’s definitely keeping you.

Billy Lenz

bad billy, stupid billy! he’s done it now. why did you have to walk in at the worst possible time? now he’ll be all.... alone...? y..you’re still here?

approaches you cautiously and makes sure you haven’t gone in a trance of some sort. when he realizes you’re of sound mind (sorta?) he still has trouble comprehending it.

oh well. billy’s not gonna try too hard to understand you. he just knows you’re okay with it and that’s more than he can possibly ask for. now, would you let him cuddle you? please?

the stains bother you more than witnessing the murder? this little piggy makes his head hurt. if it means that much to you he’ll change and then you two can cuddle, right? right?

basic hygiene aside, attic man is full-on lovestruck. you smell nice and you don’t scream at him? he’s hit the jackpot! would keep you with him for as long as possible.

Bo Sinclair

“huh. you’re all sorts of fucked up too, aren’t ya?” just.. take it as a compliment.

if you previously weren’t on body-retrieval duty, then congratulations! now that bo’s sure you won’t freak out over a corpse, he’s gonna put you to work.

things are turning out great for him! less work and less bullshit. thank god. now.. how good are you with a crossbow?

if you aren’t actually up for some murder, he’ll begrudgingly teach you how to dress wounds instead. “gotta pull your own weight somehow,” he’d say.

this gross ass man would wipe some of the victim’s blood on your face while you’re patching him up just to tease you. he’ll even laugh at you as he does it. (that’s just his way of being friendly.)

Brahms Heelshire

struggling to understand at first. run him through this again - you’re mad at him for ruining the rug and not for disemboweling a man in cold blood?

doesn’t believe you in the slightest. prepare for some bloody shenanigans! uh-oh, it seems he accidentally got all messy when he was getting rid of the body. would you please clean him?

you’re scolding him for ruining his clothes? are you not about to throw up? .....have you finally lost it? oh god no, what has he done?! immediately starts checking you whilst still in the bath.

no, don’t swat him away! please tell him you’re alright! did you hit your head perhaps? was it psychological damage? he’s not qualified for this!

once he’s past the manic state, he’d still look at you weird from time to time. this is a huge relief for him but ...really? he got this lucky with you? are you sure you didn’t hit your head?

Bubba Sawyer

so hear this: it’s been people... all this time. that’s the secret to good chili. cue bubba nervously shuffling behind you, mentally preparing himself to pick you up and lock you in his room in case the others start attacking you.

“huh. you don’t say,” ....everybody’s surprised at this point - even grandpa sawyer! after a moment of silence there’s a lot of hollering and yipping. bubby found himself a keeper! how lucky!

this has literally never happened before so bubba himself is pretty shocked. the rest of the family is just about ready for an impromptu celebration though! tonight’s special guest: you!

unless you’re against being a cannibal, you’re sure to have lots of fun! if you are - well then, be prepared for an unfortunate demise. (bubba would be upset, but he wouldn’t go against his own family.)

immediately accepted by the entire family. the gore doesn’t bother you and you love bubba as he is. what more is there to ask? actually, maybe do some chores too.

Jason Voorhees

how long have you been standing there? jason immediately drops the victim, frozen in place and silently pleading with you not to run away.

when you reach out to wipe some blood off of his mask he tenses, but he’s too afraid to make another move. were you... cleaning him? after you had just seen him crush a man’s head with his bare hands?

very emotional. if you ask him if he’s hurt - there goes his heart. it’s gone. it’s yours now. smile at him and he might actually fall to his knees. a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.

incredibly relieved. all this time he’s seen himself as a monster but you? what has he done to deserve you? he’s so thankful.

still keeps you away from the gore as much as possible but it’s more of his overprotective side taking over. now that he’s sure you aren’t afraid of him, he’ll be so soft with you.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

not shy about his job but makes sure you have little to no involvement in it. impulsively comes home blood-soaked one night just to test you.

your reaction, or lack thereof, has him fascinated. merely tilts his head at you when you warned him about making a mess. cheeky.

sees it as an open invitation to be more himself around you. but he’s not about to drive you over to where his victims are just to show off. (as tempting as it may be.)

starts off as subtle as possible. bartender asking for your number? check it babe, his head’s on the floor now. you discover very quickly that being subtle is not one of his many talents.

his kills may be messy but jesse himself is a very well-groomed man so you don’t need to worry about him embracing you whilst covered in gore.

Michael Myers

did you just yell at him for tracking in blood? are you serious?

mikey here would be confused enough to actually listen to you for once, kicking his shoes off by the doorway, eyes fixated on you as you rush to clean up the mess. how odd.

beware this man’s morbid curiosity. the gears are turning in his head as he approaches you, babbling on about fresh clothes or something of the like. mikey suddenly decides he has selective hearing.

his hands shoot up and you freeze immediately. he cups your face in his hands as he stares you down, his touch disturbingly gentle.

it would have been endearing if not for the fact that he was actually wiping his bloody fucking hands all over your face. there’s not a hint of emotion present and yet, you feel as though he’s having fun.

Thomas Hewitt

ah, shit. why did he have such horrible timing? he stops dead in his tracks in front of you, freshly out of the basement where he had been working on the meat all day.

this is it. this is the part you leave him, realize how much of a monster he is. any moment now, you’ll start screaming bloody murder. he’s--

“you want some sweet tea?”

huh? did he hear you right? when he doesn’t respond, naturally you repeat yourself. sweet tea? you’re offering him sweet tea? he’s in shock. maybe he needs to sit down.

he stares at his hands, then down his apron - all blood-soaked and disgusting. then he looks back up at you, offering him a cold glass of sweet tea with a smile. nervously clears his throat before taking a swig.

the loud beating of his heart is distracting. why is it so hard to look you in the eyes all of a sudden? he’s glared at many people before, no problem. ah yes, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love.

Vincent Sinclair

anxiety powerhouse vincent would slowly back away, blood-soaked and apologetic. don’t look at him! he doesn’t deserve your love. he-- ....oh, the floor?

quickly runs off to clean himself, dodging all the furniture best he can in his flustered state. did he hear you right? you were worried about the floor?

checks back to see if he’s made a mess. if so, he’ll clean it up himself. just sort of stares at you in confusion for the rest of the day.

the next time he kills someone in front of you, he’s cautious. when you respond the same way he’s visibly relieved. thank goodness. vincent is a lot more relaxed around you now.

begins to make a conscious effort to be as clean and efficient with his kills as possible. it would take some time to adjust, but now he’s much more dangerous.

[nightingaelic]

Craig, Veronica, and Cass learn about Arcade and his father being in the Enclave and constantly running from the BoS and NCR? (IMO, Gannon isnt guilty of anything. He was a child when the Enclave was being hunted down. He actively tries to make the wasteland better!)

The only thing Arcade is guilty of is occasionally annoying Julie Farkas and missing his therapy sessions with Doctor Usanagi, cHaNgE mY mInD

Arcade sighed and tilted his glass of wine around in the afternoon sunlight. "My late father was... an officer in a group called the Enclave, a remnant of America's pre-war government. Memories being short around here, not a whole lot of people remember them, but they did bad things."

"Like what?" the courier asked, accepting the shot of tequila they had ordered from the securitron currently bartending at the Lucky 38 cocktail lounge. They ignored the little tray of salt alongside the drink and downed the liquor straight.

Arcade shrugged. "Terrorized communities, kidnapped people. Eventually, someone stopped them. I was born a few years later at a military base on the coast, a place called Navarro."

The courier slammed their shot glass down on the bar and froze. Arcade tensed too, wondering if his confession had touched a nerve, but was both relieved and terrified when they directed their surprise at someone behind him. "How long have you been standing there?"

Craig Boone: "Long enough."

It was the last voice Arcade wanted to hear, and he slowly spun on his stool to face the former NCR sniper standing by the lounge's entrance. Boone's face was as unreadable as ever beneath his beret and sunglasses, but Arcade could tell his guard was up by his stance: One hand open-palmed, ready to retrieve the rifle on his back, and the other curled into a fist.

Before Arcade could say anything, the courier stood up. Clearly, they sensed some kind of damage had been done. "Easy, Boone. Come over here. Let's talk."

Boone looked like he would rather jump out one of the Lucky 38's windows, but he stiffly approached the bar as requested. "So talk."

The courier's eyes briefly swept the room, searching for the words. "Do you remember what you told me, when I first met you? I walked into Cliff's shop to sell a bunch of Legion armor from that group that tried to get the drop on me outside of town, and you snuck up behind me with your tough guy shtick because you thought I might be a deserter trying to sell my own armor and cover my tracks?"

"If you're an enemy of the NCR, you're an enemy of mine," Boone replied darkly.

"Right." The courier put their hand on Arcade's shoulder. "Let's not repeat that incident, okay?"

Arcade didn't think it was a strong enough statement to convince the 1st Recon graduate, but it did seem to resonate with Boone. Slowly, the sharpshooter's fist uncurled. "Okay."

This appeared to satisfy the courier, who sat back down and signaled the securitron to fetch another tequila. Arcade looked nervously between them and Boone, who didn't seem to be going anywhere. "Should I... should we hold off for today, or..."

"Oh, sorry." The courier made a face. "He's waiting for you to continue, if you don't mind. He decided to throw punches first in Novac and ask questions later, so I kicked his ass and made him promise that if he was going to travel with me, he needed to hear people out before he judged them."

Arcade's gaze immediately swung back to Boone, who nodded so solemnly that he had to choke back a laugh. "O-okay then. Thanks. Uh, let's... keep going."

Veronica Santangelo: "Sorry, I, uh..." Arcade turned to find Veronica swaying back and forth between the conversation she'd accidentally walked in on and the exit, her face cycling through shades of pink. Eventually her curiosity won out and she dashed over to the bar, taking the stool on the other side of him. "Navarro? The NCR crushed it in 2248, or was it 2249... did you have to escape, or did you get out before they came after you?"

"We went south before it was sacked," Arcade answered, bewildered. "My mother and I left with a group of my father's old unit when most of the remaining forces fled east with the remaining leadersh- Veronica, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I originally came up here to tell Six that the King is looking for them," Veronica admitted. "Something about bodyguards and a guy named Warren? Harris? Anyway, it can wait, this is much more interesting. Did you hide in NCR territory, or did you just try to stay out of everyone's way?"

"Veronica," the courier pressed, leaning around Arcade to look at the Scribe. "This is supposed to be a private conversation?"

"Six, do you have any idea how rare it is to find former Enclave members?" Veronica protested. "They're like one-headed brahmin nowadays, on account of the..."

She trailed off in realization, so Arcade finished the thought for her. "On account of the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel killing them off wherever they could find them."

"Mmm, there is that." Veronica squirmed in her seat. "And technically speaking, I would be obligated to report any known Enclave survivors to my superiors with the intention of having them executed or at least run out of town, but... how old would you say you were, when you left Navarro?"

"Around three."

Veronica beamed. "Well then I can't really call you an Enclave member anyway, since I don't think they were inducting kids into their ranks. Even after we got a hold of them."

"Uh-huh." Arcade studied her for a beat before turning back to the courier. "She's not going to go away, is she?"

"Probably not," the courier replied. "Even if I kick her out, she'll just keep bugging you until you tell her."

"Great." Arcade took a sip of his wine and pointed a finger at Veronica. "Not a word to anyone, okay?"

Veronica mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. "You got it."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Don't mind me, just trying to re-stock my first aid kit." Cass sauntered over to the bar like she hadn't just stumbled upon Arcade spilling his deepest, darkest secret, and slapped the counter to get the securitron's attention. "Found myself running a little low on my last outing to Red Lucy's in Westside, and I figured House had some of the good stuff hidden away for just such an occasion."

"We were up here for some privacy," the courier said testily, eyes flicking between Cass and Arcade.

"In a goddamn bar?" Cass whistled. "Sorry, must've missed the sign on the door. Or were you being serious, when you said we weren't allowed up here without an escort? Better remind Raul, he was up here yesterday to take in the view. And Veronica, she was making friends with the robots last week. In fact, let's have a staff meeting, it's been a spell since we got everybody together in one place. You can tell your sob story to a larger audience, Arcade."

"You're an asshole, Cass," Arcade said affectionately. "This wasn't supposed to be a performance."

"Oh no." Cass feigned embarrassment. "And here I am, barging in on you like a deathclaw in a doctor's office. The Enclave? Thought you were all extinct by now. Wait 'til Boone finds out."

"He won't find out," the courier warned her in a low voice. "Unless Arcade wants him to. Understand?"

"No argument here." Cass took the other seat next to Arcade and propped her boots up on the bar. "But I wanna hear this too. I don't have strong feelings about those Navarro folks either way, but it sounds like a thrilling tale. Might even take my mind off my own troubles."

The courier looked like they were ready to physically toss her out of the cocktail lounge, but Arcade stopped them. "She's fine. Annoying, but fine. Get your drinks, Cass, and I'll give you the full-length version."

Cass grinned. "That's what I'm talking about. Three bottles of whiskey and one glass, please. And none of that radioactive shit, I'm talking whiskey. Not Dixon Whiskey- whiskey."

[disgruntledspacedad]

I rewatched the finale for the first time last night, and actually, it’s pretty good. There’s a lot to be said for Din’s character arc here, and the ultimate choice that he makes to send Grogu with Luke for training. It’s bittersweet, but right. Also, I cannot complain about Mark Hamill’s return as Luke Skywalker, either. What a perfect scene. I screamed myself hoarse in the very best way.

I think what unsettled me so deeply on the initial viewing was that Din never got his emotional closure.

They took his baby, his ship, his home. He sacrificed his creed (yes, I agree that Din removing his helmet for Grogu is actually upholding the creed at the highest level, but I’m not sure if Din recognizes that yet). His first question for Dr. Pershing is, “Is the kid alive?” Like, Din has just been holding on to the tiniest thread of hope, and upon finally confronting Pershing, you can just see it fraying at the edges.

Then, he’s adamant to interrupt Bo-Katan to insist that he goes alone. Din Djarin doesn’t interrupt, guys. That’s significant, as is the fact that he insists on going in without any backup, a tactically stupid decision. Not even the threat of the Dark Troopers changes his mind.

I think it’s safe to say that Din fully intended to have A Moment with Grogu upon finding him, and that The Moment would involve Din privately removing his helmet, and that this Moment almost certainly would have solidified or progressed their relationship profoundly. In other words, from that point on, the dynamic would have changed completely between them, and that change was a conscious decision that Din had already made.

Obviously, Moff Gideon throws a wrench in this plan. We don’t get a reunion scene with Grogu because Din already freakin’ tried that, and Gideon went to knife him. Watch that scene again. Din doesn’t even question Gideon, he’s just going for Grogu, in that determined, jerky way of a man who is just desperate to hold his baby.

Then the Darksaber duel, and taking Gideon alive (massive kudos to Din for remembering the importance of that in the heat of the moment) and all the drama with Bo-Katan on the bridge. By the time the Dark Troopers return, Din is well-past a breaking point. He is fully prepared to sacrifice his life, and the lives of everybody on that bridge, if it gives Grogu even the tiniest chance of survival.

Then, watch him as he watches Grogu watch Luke approach (lol, what a sentence, right??). There’s something resigned there, like he knows that this is the Jedi that Grogu has been waiting for. He hates it, it’s tearing him up inside, but ultimately, the entire point of the endeavor was to keep Grogu safe until he can deliver him to a Jedi, and Din has done that. It sucks, sure, but he can live wih it. Training to be a Jedi is the right choice for Grogu, and that’s the choice that Din makes (relatively) without question, because Din is a Good Dad.

What Din can’t live with, and what had me in tears while I watched, was that there was literally no time for Din to affirm his feelings for Grogu - his profound relief at finding him alive, his love for Grogu, as a father. Din removed his helmet in a room full of people because he literally had no other option - it was that, or give his baby up with literally no acknowledgment whatsoever.

And Din could not do that.

What hurt me so deeply is that you can literally see the regret on Din’s face as Luke leaves with Grogu. The I wish things had been different, the I should have done this sooner. Not only is Luke walking away with everything that Din has left in the world, but he is also taking Din’s opportunity for closure, atonement, growth, and healing.

Guys, that is a profound loss. When you grieve, aren’t you also grieving for what might have been? Or what could have, should have been? That’s really the part that hurts the most - the absence of potential.

And sure, Din promises that he will see Grogu again, and I fully look for him to keep that promise, but when? How? As Din watches Luke walk away with his foundling, he knows that a chapter is closing. When he does finally reunite with Grogu, will things be the same? Will Grogu even remember him?

Din has no way of knowing.

Tl;dr - Din has a lot of regrets that have absolutely nothing to do with letting Grogu go, the series ends with him as a broken man, and if we don’t see some serious father/son fluff in season 3, I will fucking revolt.