#paz makes me feel better

[morbus-mlm]

Gravity Falls Headcanons/Things I Think About Often (Prev)

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- Mabel's modern artist who we heavily associate her with is Chappell Roan, especially her with the song HOT TO GO! Dipper deserves the same treatment but with Conan Gray okay. I need to see an edit of this silly guy set to Lonely Dancers.

- Pacifica lets her natural hair out once she leaves her family. It's closer to an ash blonde

- Wendy has always been a horror movie girlie, she's seen it all.

- Some of Wendy's friends made those "summoning ___ at 4 am" videos because they were bored, what else is there to do around this town anyways?

- pacifica is a youtuber, she's also a pretty sucessful pro-gamer. She is canonically very good with fps, so she decided to take it to a pro level.

- dipper creates some sort of mystery solving/ghost hunting/conspiracy analyzing show. It's a continuation on stuff he did in childhood (Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained).

- Mabel cannot be contained by a job title, she has done everything and anything creative. I feel like her main job would be something like a tattoo artist but on the side she sells sweaters on etsy, does drawing comms, animated, made music, she has her hands everywhere.

- Mabel, Paz, & Dipper will sometimes visit each other when working. I like the idea of Paz guesting on an episode of Dipper's mystery show, Mabel trying to play fps with Paz, Dipper visiting Mabel's tattoo shop and getting pierced there.

- Soos' keyboard getting decorated by the people he considers family. It starts with Mabel putting on like, five stickers on the bottom of it. Stan & Ford both carve into the sides of it. Dipper draws on it in marker. Melody writes words of affection on the sides/an inside joke between them. Abuelita is the one who etches Soos' name onto the keyboard case. Wendy writes like a cool, motivational quote on the case.

- the Hand Witch, her whole situation is looking towards the better. She and her man read as that one meme, "my witch gf" "me letting her do whatever the hell she wants"

- Wendy modifies her furbies. She is absolutely one of those people who makes long neck furbies and puts lights in their eyes/ears.

- Emma-May & Fiddleford do not reconnect. Emma doesn't know about Fidd's work in the portal, but she does know about him losing his sanity. She does feel sympathetic and understanding towards his situation, but ultimately she doesn't want to force a romantic dynamic with him.

- There are parts of her that have moved on, there are parts of her that still feel anger, and sadness over what happened between them. She's happy that he's in a better state now and reconnecting with their son. Emma-May writes to Fiddleford, hoping that he has a good recovery.

- Fiddleford writes a single letter to her. He writes that he is sorry for not being their to support her, to help her raise their child. I feel like he would be very apologetic but not self-aggrandizing.

- There are parts of him that are still angry at himself, and ones that still wish to avoid dealing with such a difficult and messy situation. But he is a man who moves forward. He writes that he's grateful for Emma-May's wishes, and he wishes her well in return.

- Although their romantic bond with each other has severed, their relationship ends on a kind note.

- ford plays the fiddle, fiddleford plays the banjo.

- If Ford and Fidd were in a romantic relationship, those two would be reserved in public, but real tender in private. Those two read to me as more reserved with their romances.

- Stan after a while just tunes out their calls to each other. They will get in the fucking, "no you hang up" loop, or the "ily" loop

- Ford unlearns a lot of things instilled in him as a child. the ideas of him being the golden boy or something special (both in the positive and negative sense), are something he now recognizes as ideas, not reality.

- this realization really sets in for him due to a lot of reading, him catching up on modern sciences, including psychology. (it's mostly him almost losing stan)

- Stanley is trying to do the same with his own thoughts of being the screw up, the scapegoat, it's hard for him in different ways. Stanley is a person who, "would insult himself first before anyone else could get to it" without his bravado+con-man persona.

- But they both put in the work. They're good brothers, they help each other.

- both the grunkles favorite sweet after all these years is saltwater taffee, 

- I feel like Pacifica connects well with the adults in the town who aren't her parents. She doesn't exactly see any person as a parental figure, I think she just absorbs advice and experience from the people around her yk. Like her and Lazy Susan definitely have a stronger bond than Paz and her mom.

- Bill never really comes back, he just speaks like he has. In TBoB he acts like he's tough shit, but ultimately he's still in the psych ward-- like. This being has no real authority. I like to think therapy is working out for him, he has good days and bad days.

- Just based on my recollection, McGucket is a very agile man. He seems to be able to crawl up & down surfaces not built for climbing.

- I like to think that post series he takes up mountain climbing/hiking because by this point, he's less scared of supernatural beings compared to when he first came to Gravity Falls.

- McGucket dressing himself, McGucket finally being in a position where he can afford different clothing other than his slacks, him feeling present in his own body again. McGucket in green cowboy wear, (look i really like this Appalachian man, i would very much like to see him old and happy).

- Mystery trio (Stan, Ford, & Fidd) post-cannon. The twins travel the world, occasionally bringing Fidd along for the ride. Fidd is their guy in the chair, the person creating tech on the fly, their #1 man. These three men are absolutely on their way to adventure.

- the X-Men movies hold a soft spot for the Pines Family. They have all of them on DVD, usually the collectors editions. All of the Pines have a crush on Logan. The Stans both love older Logan—

- Mabel's room/home would be filled with little collectables (like tchotchkes or sonny angels)

- Stanley meets the Peanuts artists/goes to Knotsberry Farm. Stan gets a hug from Snoopy and he starts bawling.

- Shermie. I do not care if he is the elder or the younger, all I know is that he is the calmer sibling of the three. Is he well adjusted, (no, you kinda can't be if you were raised by Fillbrick), but he is the most normal.

- Stan's art is clearly influenced by the Peanuts, Ford's art influences are 80s sci-fi + realism. Shermie, his is Hanna-Barbera.

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 20 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 1)

8.6K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Five months pass as you and Din try to forget one another.

Warnings: 18+ Content to be safe (MDNI please). Angst! (like a lot) Yearning, pining, mourning. People are hard on themselves in this one, folks. Nicknames (Din still thinks of you as Pretty Bird even though you're no longer his Pretty Bird; you're still Lil' Lady to Paz). And there is mild violence (of the Rory variety).

A/N: Thank you to everyone for being so patient with me! It's been a month since Ch. 19 and I guess this word count reflects that 😅😂 It could have been a little shorter but this ask convinced me to include the final scene instead of leaving it for the next chapter 🫣🤷🏻‍♀️ For that final scene, please imagine the suit/look from the Variety Hollywood issue shoot. The vibes of this and the next chapter is this scene in Twilight New Moon (cue 🎶it's a possibilityyyyyy🎶):

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

The week following that night at Din’s, you’re a shell of a person.  You cry for entire days but not much else - going on auto pilot taking care of Al but not yourself.  You don’t go to brunch that weekend, saying you feel disgusting, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth.  You’ve never been cheated on so you hardly know what it is you feel, only that an unyielding and tempestuous monsoon of emotions swirls inside you at all hours of the day.  You oscillate wildly between barely restrained hysteria, self-effacing shame, and sadness in an endless cycle.

To only your dog, you sometimes burst out half crying, half laughing at the absurdity of what you stumbled upon at Din’s apartment – how was it even possible?  Din, who you had loved with your whole heart, had pledged himself to you as you had him.  He had been your match in every way, and it was a tenant of his devotion that he only ever wanted to take care of you, make your life better.  How could the same man, without any warning, betray you in such an unfeeling and vulgar manner?  It simply could not be possible - it had to have been some type of cruel joke, you sob to Al. 

Then in an instant, you’ll turn your ire unto yourself: How could you have allowed this to happen?  Because it certainly did.  You stupidly let yourself be so blinded by love and desire that you didn’t see Din for what he was.  He wasn’t some honourable and noble protector; he was just some asshole who did and said what he needed to get his dick wet – and like an idiot you had fallen for it.  You were supposed to smarter than that, but it turns out you were just susceptible to a handsome face and a fat cock as anyone else.  The Din you had fallen for had been a total fabrication, and the dumbest part is that you had let him lie to you: you had blindly accepted that there were things in his life that he could never be fully honest with you about - that there were things that he just had to keep secret from you for your “own protection.”  You had accepted dishonesty as part of your so-called relationship right off the bat, it was no wonder that none of it had been real.  Stupid, stupid. 

Though you know now that it had all been lie, you still have moments, usually in the dead of night when sleepiness strips you of your ability to reason and overthink, where you simply just mourn.  Mourn the loss of what you had thought, no - felt in the very depth of your heart was a true, deep love.  It didn’t matter that it had all been an invention of your mind – the love you felt had been genuine for you, and you had cherished and held it dear.  The tears you shed during these periods of grieving are for the loss of your own false happiness and for the man that you had believed it.  It didn’t matter that they were never real to begin with, you had lost them all the same.

Your fog extends into the work week and you do something you haven’t done in ages: you take it off citing illness – you sleep, cry and try not to think of the crushing backlog you’ll face when you eventually return to work.  Near the end of the week, you make a phone call that you’ve been dreading but know is necessary.  Lala comes over the same day on her lunch hour – she thought you were just sick, having taken your excuse for missing the last brunch at face value, but when you burst into tears upon seeing her, she immediately knows that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Taking you straight to her clinic, she slots you in with a fellow nurse right away so you can get what you’ve been dreading over with.  During the self-blame episodes of your emotion spiral, the weight of Din’s cheating and its possible consequences aside from the shattering of your heart have started to press down on you.  You definitely don’t need one more anxiety to occupy your thoughts, and this particular problem you could do something about.  You need to do something and accordingly you find yourself sitting in the clean but impersonal examination room answering the very kind nurse’s survey questions to determine what tests you need.

“Is there any particular reason you need a screening or is this routine?”

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” you say this flat, factually.

“Oh.  I’m sorry.   How long was your relationship?” her response is similarly dispassionate.

“Nearly a year.”

“During that time, how many sexual partners did you have?”

“Just the one.”

“Had you been tested prior to engaging in sexual activities with your partner?”

“Yes, all clean.”

“Was you partner tested?”

“He said he was clean.”  You can only answer what Din told you, with no confidence in whether or not it was the truth.

“Do you know how many other partners your partner had while you were together?”

“… no.”  Tears start to line your lower lash line.

“How long was he engaging in sexual activities with other partners?”

“… I really don’t know.”  Oh no, oh no, you’re going to cry.  Because you really don’t know any of it.  It's awful enough imaging that Din had been messing around with Vanessa the whole time that you and him had been together – if he was capable of that, who’s to say there weren’t others?

“Ok.  To identify the tests you need, I just need to ask about your sexual activities with your partner over the last year.  Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kiss on the mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you engage in vaginal fingering?”

“Yes.”

“Anal fingering? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes. No.”

“Did you engage in oral sex? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Did you engage in penetrative vaginal sex?”

“Yes.”

“With protection? Or without?”

“Without.”  This is the only question you answer with shame.  Yes, everything had been consensual, but this – the decision to not use condoms was one made based on a mutual trust; a trust you gave openly and willingly to someone who hadn’t deserved it.  You had been careless in this respect – caught up in your feelings and your mistaken instinct that had told you Din was worth trusting.

“Did you engage in penetrative anal se-“

And so on, and so forth.  To the best of your ability, you answer clinically and without feeling, trying not to let the white hot flames of shame and anger simmering in your stomach boil up and over.  You had trusted Din, with your heart yes, but also your body.  One of the things you had loved about Din was how he always seemed to prioritized both your emotional and physical comfort and safety during your sexual activities, but for possibly the entirety of your relationship, he had actually been putting you in danger – taking a risk for you that you hadn’t consent to.  You don’t know how many other partners he was with when he was with you or if he had been safe with them – his cavalier approach to your health makes you sick. 

This feels good. It feels good to be angry instead of sad.

You wait patiently for the nurse to return with the swabs and containers and other equipment you need to self administer the tests.  Silently and alone, you follow the instructions while hot tears cascade over your cheeks.  It had felt good to be angry at Din for a moment, but it took more energy than you had to sustain it; the anger burned out quickly, leaving behind only sadness and embarrassment for having allowed yourself to be put in this position at all.

After leaving the samples where directed, you redress and meet Lala back in the waiting room and she takes you home.  You tell her that it’s okay if she tells the rest of the girls what happened, but you don’t know if you can deal with talking about it just yet and she nods understandingly.  You know your friends will be supportive (and possibly violent), but the strength required to feel your feelings and simultaneously express and explain them out loud doesn’t sound like something you have right now.  Not for the first time, you’re grateful that your friends are unflinchingly kind and understanding of you.

By the time the next Sunday brunch rolls around, your internal reservoir levels for self pity and destructive thoughts have lowered considerably.  You’re mainly just sad for what you thought was and what will never be, wallowing in the loss of what you had imagined would be a happy future with Din.

The girls are not quite that far along in their emotional journeys, but you’re better equipped now to answer their questions and receive their outbursts and reactions.  They all have choice words for Din ranging from lying cheating bastard to dickless waste of DNA.  Threats of violence to his personal (and commercial) property, as well as his physical being are put forth, predictably by Rory and less predictably from Katie.  Bea and Jen focus on drilling into you that you’re in no way at fault and that you hadn’t been wrong or stupid to trust and love Din the way you did.  Lala, being the only one to have seen you when you were in your darkest place, just holds your hand firmly, giving it a reassuring squeeze every so often.  You cry into your eggs and your friends shower you with comfort and support until you feel a little more like a human who is loved again.

One month ATN (After That Night)

Oof - you’re hungry.  It’s been a long morning of straight through meetings with no breaks until only now.  Well past lunch, it’s later than you would usually come, but you hope that your favourite sandwich shop still has some good options left – you’re starving. 

Walking in, the shop isn’t busy (which honestly makes sense as it’s nearing 2:00 pm) and the take away fridge is fairly bare, but with some satisfaction, you see your favourite sandwich sitting all by its lonesome on the top shelf.  Hand already out as you approach the refrigerated display, you reach up on your toes, just to have a big hand dart in ahead of your smaller one and snatch the sandwich out of your reach.

Falling back on the flats of your feat, you’re comically upset – this sandwich was your reward for your overly hectic morning and your disappointment is being further fueled by rising levels of hangry.  Maybe this nice man will offer you back the sandwich if you ask kindly; ready to give this sandwich stealer the sweetest most saccharine smile you can muster, you turn to face him and…

“Paz?”

“Lil’ Lady?”

This could be awkward.  You had loved Paz too.  Part of the great sense of loss you felt when you and Din broke up was from also suddenly losing the friendships you had made through him.  The Mandos, Poe and Lisa, Cass and even Boba had made up what had become a little family to you; the sense of belonging and love you had felt when they welcomed you into their fold and treated you as one of their own was one that you had treasured – their trust in you was not something you took lightly and you had kept their secrets with pride.  You had loved them all as well. 

Of course, like a knife to the heart, you’ve since come to the hurtful realization that those friendships were not as true or deep as you had thought either.  In all likelihood, Din’s friends were probably well aware of his cheating, or at the very least that his feelings for you didn’t run as deep as yours did him.  Though it saddened you, you couldn’t exactly be mad – their loyalty was to Din, not you.  At one time you may have felt some bitterness at this, but right now, seeing Paz for the first time after so long… you feel only happiness at seeing an old friend.

There’s a beat of silence and then it seems you both reach for a hug - it’s quick but warm.

“How have you been?” you ask, simultaneously; chuckling with you, Paz gestures for you to go first.

“Oh,” you don’t really know how to answer; Paz will surely know what transpired between you and Din.  Devastated?  Crushed?  Facing a crisis of self-confidence?  You opt for a watered-down version of the truth, “I’m as good as expected.  Busy at work.”

“Same.  With work, that is,” Paz smiles warmly at you; he’s missed you too.

“You down here for work today?” Suddenly recalling that Din had been downtown for Mando work the first time you met, you try not to let the pain of the memory show on your face.

“Yup.  Work.” Paz won’t tell you that he’s on a security detail, even though its not yours (you're under the careful watch of Koska and Iggy today).

You’re not going to ask about Din.  You’re not going to ask about Din, “How is… everyone?”

Paz assumes you must mean Din but he doesn’t know how to answer your question.  A shell of a man?  A man possessed when it came to the investigation into the threat made against you?  Depressed as all hell?  Paz can only parrot back your earlier response, “Uh, as well as can be expected.  Things have been tense, there’s a lot of stuff going on.”

You obviously don’t ask for details – it’s not your place anymore, and in truth, you feel like it never really was but you try to smile anyways, “Well, you can have the sandwich then.”

Paz looks down at the sandwich he’s still holding in his hand and laughs, “Are you sure?”

Nodding happily, it feels good to joke around with Paz again, “Definitely.  I’m here everyday.  I can have it anytime.”

“Ok, only if you let me buy you your sandwich, Lil' Lady.”

Beaming, you acquiesce, “Deal.”

Grabbing another sandwich from the fridge, you join Paz in line; the two of you standing together in comfortable silence.  You don’t know how it happens but a question that’s been silently buzzing in your mind slips out without permission, “Paz – can I ask you?  Are Din and Vanessa still together?”

You regret it the second the words leave your mouth, tears springing to your eyes.  Looking up at Paz, wide-eyed and embarrassed, you cover your mouth with your hands as if trying to magically stuff the words back in, “Omigod!! Paz!  I’m sorry!  That was... oh gosh... just really, really inappropriate of me.  Please don’t answer.  I never should have asked that.  Seriously.  Don’t answer please.  Besides, I don’t think either answer would make me very happy.”

Paz gives you a warm side hug and a sad look before he says reassuringly, “It’s okay, Lil’ Lady.  Don’t worry about it.”  He insists on buying you a cookie when you get up to the counter and you accept gratefully – you need all the comfort you can get right now.

The two of you say your quiet, but friendly goodbyes on the sidewalk outside of the sandwich shop; each genuinely hoping you’ll see the other again, but knowing that you likely won’t.

---

Paz is hovering.  Din can feel it, but he doesn’t look up from his seat on the ringside bench where he’s checking through an equipment list on his clipboard.

Paz continues to shuffle around until Din sighs and gives in to what his friend so obviously wants; looking up and tilting his head as his way of saying 'What?'

“Saw the Lil' Lady today.”

Immediately, Din’s heart leaps into his throat and his now empty chest constricts painfully; forcing himself to look back down at his paperwork, Din only grunts to acknowledge that he heard Paz.  Clearly Paz has something to say and in all the time they’ve been friends, Din has never been able to get Paz to keep his thoughts to himself, so he just waits.

“Ran into her at a sandwich shop near her office.  She looks good.”

Silence.

“She gave me her sandwich.”

Din closes his eyes, “Was it the egg salad?”

“Yeah.  How did you know?” Paz can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It’s her favourite,” Din says simply. 

For some reason, this takes all of the wind out of Paz’s sails and he lays a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “She asked how everyone was, but it’s clear she was thinking of you.  Why don’t you call her, brother?”

Even if the whole point of what he had done to you wasn’t so you would stay as far away from him as possible, Din can’t imagine a world where you would want to talk to him, “She hates me.  I fucked up, and I hurt her.  She doesn’t think about me.”

Paz doesn’t want to bring up your question about Vanessa, but he can’t help but think it must mean something that you asked at all, “Maybe she’ll forgive you.”

Din is done with this conversation; he gets up and starts to head towards his office, “I don’t deserve her forgiveness.  I don’t deserve her.”

Two Months ATN

Din never allows himself to see you.  You’re a creature of habit and for the most part, your life after him has reverted to normal; it would be so easy for him to catch a glimpse of you whenever he needed to see for himself that you’re alright.  If he was lucky, he might even catch one of your many soft and sweet expressions that he misses so much and be able to pretend for a moment that it was for him.

But he doesn’t allow it.  Part of it is a means of self punishment – Din chastises himself endlessly for hurting you; he doesn’t deserve to look upon your face, he doesn’t deserve any comfort.  But ultimately, it really comes down to his own lack of self control. 

Din makes the mistake of checking in with your daytime security detail in person only once, a couple of weeks after your breakup.  Din is chatting with Mayfeld through the latter’s rolled down car window, when, as if he senses your very presence, he looks up to see you exiting your office building looking positively elated at being able to leave work at a decent hour (for you) – your quick and graceful steps towards the subway easily hold Din’s gaze through no effort of your own and his body starts to move towards you of his own accord.  He may have very well walked right into oncoming traffic trying to get to you if Miggs didn’t have a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

No, he has absolutely no self control when it came to you.  Every part of Din yearns for every part of you.  Your smile, your laugh, the sweetness of your very being and the steadfast comfort of your company.  He wishes for nothing more than to make you happy again, to be there for you to lighten your load, to make you laugh so hard you snort, the way he used to pride himself on being able to do; what he wouldn’t give to hear you coo sweetly to Al, to swim in the melodic lilt of your voice when you recall a funny story from work or your friends, or to drink in your heady moans and cries while he gave you every pleasure you deserved. 

Din knows that if he allowed himself to be in your presence for even a moment, he would throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.  Plead and grovel until you took him back and then everything, the very reason for all this misery, would be for naught.  He would do anything to see you, hear you, have you again, except risk your safety.  So, he leaves the protocol for your security to others, and he never lets himself go where he knows you might be – he exercises what control he has, so that he never loses control where it counts the most.

But his dreams he cannot control.  And Din dreams of you constantly.

He comes to both look forward to and dread these dreams.  In his dreams you don’t hate him, and they almost always start off with you looking at him like you used to, with love and admiration.  Sometimes the two of you are in a memory, maybe a special date or occasion, or even better, doing something beautifully mundane like walking Al – something the two of you did a million times without thought, just a routine part of the life you had started to build together.  But more often than not, the two of you are in bed.  Sometimes his, sometimes yours, but always just looking, talking, touching.  Din could live in these quiet moments of devotion forever. 

But the dreams never end well.  He discovered that once you left the bed in the dream, you would disappear.  Getting up to find you, Din would find the apartment empty and quiet and no matter where he goes in the dream afterwards, you would be nowhere to be found.  After this happened a few times, he would try to keep you in bed or at the very least, not let you out of Dream Din’s sight, but it never works.  No matter what he does, by the end of the dream you’re not his anymore. 

A horrifying recurrence as of late is that he follows Dream You into your kitchen to find Vanessa sitting at the island while you, crying, start to cook breakfast at the stove for him and her.  He recognizes the look you give him whenever he reaches this part of the dream, it’s the same one you gave him on that last night on his apartment landing – the look of devastation, betrayal, shock.  Your unspoken How could you?  You were supposed to love me above all else, haunts him even after he wakes with a start.  Every time Din has this dream, he relives what he did to you and he feels sick.

Even when it’s not this particular iteration, Din wakes from every nightmare of losing you again sweating and regretting everything.  In these moments, alone in a bed that’s remained cold and uninviting since you last graced it with your soft body, Din tears into himself.  What the fuck was his problem anyways?  He had made his proverbial bed and now he has to lie in it.  What would have been the fucking point of putting you through all this if he was just going to be a weak ass piece of shit and run back to you because it killed him to be apart from you?  Put you through hell and then put you in danger?  No, he can't run from it anymore: this is the price he has to pay for being who he is, for having done the things he had – he doesn't deserve good things.  He doesn't deserve you. 

What he does deserve is this cruelest of ironies: that the only way he's still allowed to love you is to take care of you by keeping you as far away from him as possible.

Four Months ATN

Oy!  Din Djarin!!

Startled by the loud and sharp toned voice that carries over the noise of traffic, Din stops in his tracks; turning towards the sound of the bark, he recognizes your friend Rory barreling towards him.  For a moment, he’s terrified that she might get hit by a car crossing the street to get at him, but the cars somehow seem to understand the determination of her gait and the ferocity in her facial expression and all roll to a stop at her outstretched hand.  You always said that Rory was a force.

Din waits dumbly in the middle of the sidewalk, ready to take the inevitably beating, verbal or otherwise – certain he could not escape her wrath even if he wanted to.  Perhaps he would be tempted to try if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe that he deserves whatever is about to come his way.

As soon as Rory steps up onto the curb, two balled up fists of rage ram right into Din’s chest, the force of which, if he had not been braced for it, might have sent this former boxing champ flying backwards.

You!!! 

An accusatory finger is now poking him incessantly, over and over, pushing right into his sternum.

Din holds his two hands up, as if to surrender, but doesn’t do anything to stop her oncoming assault.  It’s starting to hurt a little, but he knows he deserves it and more.

Liar!

Cheater!

Pathetic!

Asshole.

Garbage human.

Piece of shit.

How you could do that to her?!

She did nothing but love you. 

She’s the sweetest, kindest, most loving person you will ever fucking be with, and this is how you treat her?

You ungrateful worm.

You’ll never find anyone better than her.

You never fucking deserved her, you twat.

Din takes every angry word spat at him with a resigned expression and downcast eyes.  Every word is true and he knows it.  He welcomes this even.  No one has been angry with him, except save himself.  Not Paz, or any of the Mandos, not even Boba.  No one has yelled at him or hurled insults at him, or called him out for the despicable person he is to have hurt you the way he did.  His sweet, pretty bird.  No, not his anymore.  He swallows every single one of Rory’s admonishments willingly and his head might even slightly nod in agreement.

Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, you fucking coward?

Arms dropping to his side in defeat, Din hangs his head and asks the only thing he wants to know, even though he's sure he isn’t allowed, “How is she?”

How is she?! What the fuck do you mean ‘how is she’? How the fuck do you think she is??

“What I mean is… I’m not still hurting her, am I?”

Silence.

“She’s okay now, right?  She hates me, but I don’t matter anymore?  She doesn’t think of me enough to still hurt her?”

Rory stops and evaluates the man standing in front of her.  He looks… broken.  She’s been throwing all her weight into every push, poke, smack she’s laid on Din and he’s taken it all.  Absorbed it along with every harsh word out of her mouth; he hasn’t fought back or even flinched - almost as if he wants her to hit him.  To scream at him.  And now, with the only words he’s spoken, he’s asking to confirm, with what almost sounds like hope, that you’ve forgotten him.  Din’s choice of words strike Rory as odd.  He wants to make sure he’s not “still hurting” you?? 

Suddenly, her mouth drops open as she retracts her hands, “… you didn’t do it.”

Din looks shocked and almost terrified.  He opens and closes his mouth several times but nothing comes out.  No denial or refute of what Rory now realizes has been completely obvious.

“You didn’t cheat on her.  You never cheated on her,” Rory’s tone is softer now, but determined and confident.  She’s leaving no room for argument, not letting Din worm his way out of the truth.

With a sigh, Din has no choice but to confess, “How could I?  Why would I ever want anyone but her?  The most perfect creature to ever exist.”  If he had seemed defeated before, Din is now positively deflating right before Rory’s eyes.

“You love her.”  Again, not a question.

“Always.  Forever.”

“Why w-”

“Rory, please.  You must never tell her.  She has to go on hating me and wanting nothing to do with me,” fear is catching up with Din now.  If Rory tells you the truth, this plan to keep you safe will unravel.

Rory’s eyes widen in disbelief, “You have to be joking.  Do you know what you put her through?  And it’s not even true??”

Quietly, Din asks, “How much has she told you and your friends about what I do?”

“That you own a gym?” Rory crosses her arms and gives Din an incredulous look.

“What else I do.  What my old job was.  Who I worked for.  Who I’m connected with,” he has to be able to make her understand.

Rory lets these words hang in the air for a moment.  No – you were always pretty tight lipped about what Din might be involved in outside of athletics.  It did seem that in the months leading up to your breakup, you would often stress over Din’s work and wellbeing, and though your friends never asked you to expand on it, it wouldn’t make sense for the responsibilities a gym owner to give you that kind of anxiety.

“You got a knife wound once.  Lala told us,” Rory recalls.

Din nods, “And that was nothing.  That’s the least of what the people who might come after me would be capable of.  She’s in danger just by being with me.”

“You wouldn’t protect her?”

“Of course, I would.  With my life.  But why should she be in danger at all?  She didn’t choose this life.”

“She chose you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”        

“You don’t get to decide that for her?!!”

Din knows that.  He shouldn’t have chosen for you.  But he made the decision that he thought would keep you safe and now you both have to live with his mistake, “I know, Rory… I know, but it’s done now.”

“Undo it, asshole.”

Like he hasn’t thought about it a million times.  Like he doesn’t wake up and his first thought when he opens his eyes in the morning isn’t to find you and crawl on his hands and knees and admit that he had fucked up in how he handled everything and beg your forgiveness.  Sometimes Din’s halfway out the door before one of two things stop him.  The first is the very real possibility that you would tell him to go to hell – you had loved him better than anyone ever had, better than he deserved, and he had callously thrown away the greatest gift ever bestowed upon him.  The second, is the very real fear from the threat made against you; Din hasn’t eliminated it and what if, just what if, what he’s doing is actually working and removing you as a worthy target?  Yes, he shouldn’t have gone about things this way, but… what if it was keeping you safe for now?

“Someone threatened her, Rory.”

This stops Rory as she’s about to open her mouth to say something else.  Closing her mouth, she studies Din and her shoulders drop, “Who?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t been able to find out who’s behind it but I will.  Until then, I have to try and make her less of a target.  Please.  Rory.  Please.  Make sure she stays away from me.  You can’t tell her any of this.”

“But… she doesn’t know?”

“No. I don’t want her to be scared.  And she is being protected - all the time, I promise.  But the safest thing for her is to stay the hell away from me.  If whoever wants to hurt me doesn’t think they can do it through her, then she’ll be safe.  Please, Rory.”

Din is begging her now.  His eyes imploring Rory to understand and decide as he once did, that your well being has to come above all, including loyalty and love.  He sees it in her eyes as she relents, much the same way his must have once upon a time, and she nods, “Okay. I won’t tell her.  And you promise she’s safe right now?”

“I promise.  I… wouldn’t be able to live like this if I couldn’t at least do that for her.”  Is it worth it?  Yes, your life, your safety is worth anything and everything to him.

“You think you can get them?  The people behind the threat?”

Din nods, “I’m sure of it.  I’ll make sure of it.  I’ll take care of it.  That’s a promise I won’t break.”

“Okay.  You should tell her afterwards though.”

“Maybe.”

“She deserves the truth, Din,” Rory gives him one last exasperated look.

“She deserves the world, Rory.”

The two of them give one another a silent nod of mutual understanding before parting ways.  They might not see eye to eye on everything, but Din trusts that your friend will put your wellbeing and safety first; she loves you just as much as he does.  Rory leaves Din behind feeling conflicted in a way she hadn’t thought possible when she confronted him earlier – the last thing she expected was to sympathize with him, but it’s become clear to her: the only person who’s been hurting more from your breakup than you, is Din.

Five Months ATN

“I want to go out with Mark.”

Four heads look up from their brunch with lighting speed to stare at you, shocked by your sudden announcement.

Feeling a bit awkward at this reception, you go on, “… I mean if he’s even still available.  And if he’s not, is there someone else at your firm that might be, Jen?”

Jen looks at you curious and hesitantly excited, “I can check, but I don’t think he’s in a relationship?  He broke up with someone a couple of months ago.  You really want me to set you up?”

You don’t catch the looks that Rory and Lala exchange before Rory cautiously asks, “Do you even like Mark?”

“Hey!” Jen looks scandalized.

You’re slightly bewildered watching your two friends seemingly stare daggers at each other, “I don’t even know Mark? I just…” 

You sigh. 

“… I just have to do something.  Try something new.  Babes, it’s been months and… I’m still not over him.”  Your friends know that the “him” in question is not Mark.

It’s been five months and you’re still in a state of melancholy and heartbreak that you can’t quite articulate.  The days where you’d cycle through extreme emotion, be it intense sadness, justifiable anger, or self-pitying shame, have long since passed.  You burned those emotional candles to their proverbial wicks and for the time that they were lit within you, they served their purpose.  You’ve processed those emotions and laid them to rest.

What remains is a type of grief, a longing from your soul that you struggle to contain on a day-to-day basis.

The best way you can think of describing it is Hiraeth – the Welsh word that conveys the feeling of “a longing for a time, place, or person that feels like home but may no longer exist or that never existed at all”; when you miss Din, it feels like a type of homesickness.  And though far from being lonely in your life, your heart nevertheless maintains an empty chamber that you are dearly afraid may be forever reserved for Din.  Your Din.  The one you had loved and thought loved you.

You miss it all - everything that had never been real: the closeness, the intimacy, the safety of Din’s embrace.  You miss the way he looked at you and made you feel like the only person in the world who mattered; you missed his adoring touch and the way that he would be soft and gentle with you when you knew he harnessed such strength and power within those same hands.  He had made you feel cherished and special, appreciated and exalted.  Yes, it had all been a lie, but you heart had believed in it and the memory of what you’ve irretrievably lost haunts you every day still.

You’ve never been one to believe the adage that to get over someone, you had to get “under” someone else and you’re certainly not looking to replace what you thought you had or even date for the sake of dating.  You’re just simply out of ideas.  You need… a distraction.  A real-life person to think about, instead of one that only ever existed in your head.

“Don’t push yourself if you’re not ready, babe,” Lala says, gently.

“I don’t want to ‘get back out there.’ I just need…”

“A rebound?” Rory’s assessment is unfortunately, spot on.

You look sheepish, “That sounds terrible.  But something like a distraction.”

Jen is hardly bothered, “It’s okay.  I won’t tell Mark but I don’t think he would mind even if he knew.  Men are weird as hell.”

Everyone laughs and you go back to your breakfast, half listening as Jen chirps some of Mark’s merits and tells you that she’s going to try and set something up for the upcoming Friday.  You don’t notice the worried and pinched looks that Lala and Rory continue to give one another for the remainder of brunch.

It’s absolutely pouring today.  The phrase ‘raining cats and dogs’ must have been inspired by a similar rainfall, you’re sure.  You hold your umbrella as close to your head as you can while deftly trying to keep your shoes dry by doing little and big hops to avoid puddles.  It’s a relief when you finally make it to the overhang in front of your office building and can shake out your umbrella before stepping inside.  Wiping your feet on the already soaked through mats that building maintenance has put down, you wonder if the weather will clear up before your date with Mark tomorrow.

You’re slipping your still dripping wet umbrella into a plastic sleeve when you hear a commotion by the security check desk.  Gabriel, the head of security is arguing with someone who by the looks of it is soaking wet and trying to get through the security turnstiles.  As you approach with your own access card already in hand, the voices get louder:

“Dude.  Come ON!”

“Miss, like I said, you have to have security access in order to move past this point.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere in the building, I promise!  I just need to get to the subway.”

“I heard you already, miss.  You’ll have to use one of the other two subway entrances.  This one is for people who have access to this building only.”

“It’s pouring!! Can’t you see?  The other two entrances are both over a block away and I’m already soaked!  I just want to get home!”

“I won’t ask again, miss.  Please leave.  There are people who need to get through.”

You’re shocked.  You’ve never heard Gabriel get frustrated or raise his voice before.  But that’s not why you’re shocked.  It’s the girl’s voice.  You know it. 

It’s Vanessa.

In some other universe you might hail this as karma, but in truth, you only have sympathy for the girl you see before you.  It really is miserable out and you’re sure that Vanessa isn’t some corporate espionage spy – she really is just asking for a little help to get out of the rain and home before she gets sick.  Without overthinking it, you come up behind her and give Gabriel a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, Gabriel, I can take her to the subway.”

Vanessa turns and looks at you with a wide-eyed, almost scared expression on her face.  You can’t help but feel bad for her.  Obviously because she’s soaking wet and shivering, but you think she must not have been met with much kindness in her young life.

“Ma’am, that’s not really protocol…”

Your reassuring smile is now extended to Vanessa as well.  You want her to know you’re here to help her, truly, “Gabriel, it’s fine.  I know her.  And, even if I didn’t, I could never let you send a woman out into that downpour when we could so easily help her get to where she needs to go, okay?”

Gabriel nods as you swipe your access card against the reader and you gesture for Vanessa to go through before you follow.

The two of you walk silently towards the subway for a few moments.

“You don’t have to…”

You wave off Vanessa’s concern, “I think Gabriel’s watching, so I’ll just walk you all the way to the subway entrance so he doesn’t give you anymore trouble, okay?”

She nods and the two of you continue on.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

Your answer is genuine, “I really don’t know any other way to be towards you.”  It’s true.  Yes, Din had cheated on you with her, but you hadn’t been dating Vanessa, you had been dating Din.  He had wronged you, not her (even if she had probably been a bit smug about it).

Vanessa nods again, the expression on her face seems to relax into some kind of revelation that you don’t quite understand.  When you get to the subway entrance, the two of you pause awkwardly before she finally speaks, “Thank you.”

Again, you try to smile as kindly as you can, “It’s okay.  I meant what I said to Gabriel – I didn’t like that he was trying to send you back out in the rain.  Here.” You hold out your umbrella, still in its plastic sleeve.

Vanessa doesn’t take it, even as you continue to extend it in her direction, “I don’t know how far you have to go once you reach your stop – the rain may not have let up by then.  Really, take it.  It’s my firm’s – I have a bunch more upstairs.”

This time she does open her hands and when she grasps the umbrella’s handle to take it from you, she blurts out, “I never slept with him!”

Silence hangs between the two of you at her statement.  You don’t know what she means at all, so you just say, “I’m sorry?”

Vanessa is looking down at the umbrella in her hands, words just spilling out, “That night.  The night you ‘caught’ me and Din – you didn’t walk in on anything.  I don’t know how, but he said he knew you were coming over and he asked me if I could make it look like he and I had been sleeping together when you showed up.  We didn’t do anything.  I played on my phone on the couch until we heard you knock.  I- don’t know why I did it… actually… no, that’s a lie.  I do.”  She finally looks up at you.

“Din was so in love with you.  Like seriously, so stupid in love with you.  He hadn’t been with anyone for a while before he met you, and those of us who… had gone out with him once or twice just got used to it, I guess.  Like we wanted him but he didn’t want anyone and that was fine.  Then he met you and all of a sudden, he was the doting boyfriend, head over heals in love, showing you off to all his friends, taking you to meet Boba.  And then it was so clear: it wasn’t that he wasn’t the boyfriend type, it was you.  He only wanted you.  I guess… I was jealous.” Vanessa shrugs, ashamed, “So when the chance came up to hurt you... I jumped at it.  I’m sorry.”

To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.  There is so much to process.  You’re not sure what Vanessa is asking from you, but you do appreciate her honesty, “I mean, I guess I get why you did it.  But why did Din?”

Vanessa shrugs again, “I really don’t know, I didn’t ask.  It didn’t matter to me, I guess.  I’m sorry.  But after you left, I… propositioned him?  Thought I would shoot my shot since we were both basically half undressed.  He turned me down and practically kicked me out.  All he cared about was making sure you got home safe.  You’re all he cared about.  Always.  It was only ever you.”

“I- ” you’re speechless.  Actually speechless, “Thank you for telling me, Vanessa.  I- still don’t understand any of it, but I always appreciate honesty.  Truly.”

And with that, Vanessa gives you a little wave of the umbrella you gave her as a final thanks before she disappears down the stairs into the subway station, leaving you dumbfounded and shellshocked.

It had been a lie.

Din hadn’t cheated on you.  Not with Vanessa.  Not that night, or according to her, any other night.  You had been his one and only.  The way you had always thought.  The way he had always made you feel.

Every spiraling assumption and devastating conclusion you’ve drawn about your relationship over the past five months is now being called into question: that he never loved you, that he wasn’t the man you believed him to be, that the devotion in your relationship had been one sided.  Had it all been real?  Was your Din real?

But he had lied. 

He had made up an elaborate lie to get away from you.  To hurt you.  This revelation gives rise to feelings that you thought you had long worked through and put to bed: betrayal, hurt, disbelief, anger.  On top of this fast rising tide of emotions that you’re afraid might drown you rides a question you've never felt like you wanted the answer to when it was simply that Din was a cheater: Why?

The date is going okay, you think.  Actually, it’s going exactly how you knew it would – you’re not into it.  Mark is honestly nice enough, funny enough, charming enough – you can see why Jen was always trying to get you to go out with him.  But he’s not Din.

You haven’t told anyone about your run in with Vanessa because you still don’t know what to make of it all; you have pieces of a puzzle that you didn’t even know existed, new questions, even fewer answers, and a whole new host of confused feelings.  Unsure of your own heart, you hadn’t known what to say to Jen to cancel this date that she lovingly setup for you at your request, so here you are.

Even if your overthinking brain wasn’t in overdrive analyzing and reanalyzing everything you learned yesterday, your heart, which is still working out your feelings towards Din, has unequivocally softened.  The Din of your memories, the one for whom your heart still beats deep down had been real, and he had never betrayed you in the manner you believed for the past few months.  The love you had felt with him had been true and the affection and devotion that had been cornerstones of your relationship have started making their way back into your chest.

You feel sort of bad about Mark.  Yes, you had been very clear with Jen and yourself that this date didn’t mark any great interest of yours to start dating again, but you know you could be putting in more of an effort on this date.  You try.  You really do.

After the pre-dinner drinks are finished and the waiter’s taken your dinner order, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, hoping for a few minutes alone to gather your thoughts.  Heading towards the bathrooms, you walk down a hall that opens to the restaurant’s private party rooms on one side.  All the doors are opened and you peek in to see that most of the rooms are empty, one of them being cleared from a large party that must have just left; when you get to the last doorway, you’re stopped dead in your tracks when you see who's inside.

It's Din.

He’s leaning back in a chair that’s been placed further back and away from the dining table that must centre the room; part of the meeting but not an active participant – a perimeter guard.  His handsome profile is as striking as you remember; his strong aquiline nose and cut jawline that’s currently flexing as he swallows hold your attention by their very existence - how is he here just when all your thoughts happen to be of him?  Din’s chocolate brown eyes are fixed on someone or something in the room, but he must feel your gaze because he turns and sees you – keeping his expression neutral, as if he doesn’t want anyone else in the room to notice you, you still see his eyes soften as they lock with yours and your heartbeat picks up a little.

Hi, you mouth shyly.

Hi, Din's lips curve up slightly at your sweet expression as he mouths back, you look nice.

You do too, because he does.  He’s in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and jet-black tie; the monochromatic look works for him.  Din’s slicked back hair is different – you’re so much more used to seeing his curls loose and tousled, but the change isn’t unwelcomed.  He looks professional.  Devastating.

Work?  Your head tilts a little so you can see a little further in the room and Din knows you see Paz sitting in front of him wearing a nearly identical outfit.  He nods, You?

Date.

Din nods slightly, eyes unreadable, Be safe.

I will. Not sure how much more you can communicate this way or even what you want to say, you give Din a little wave before continuing down the hall to the restroom.

---

Din cannot sit still.

Date? You were on a date?

But that’s not even the most jarring thing about seeing you unexpectedly tonight at the same restaurant where Boba’s holding a family meeting.  What’s really turning Din’s world upside down is that you didn’t look upset to see him.  Your expression was soft, kind and inviting.  As if you didn’t hate him. 

You’re over him.  That has to be it.  You were over him, wholly and completely; much too sweet to hold onto any malice towards him, you had treated him politely, like an old acquaintance.  He wants to be glad – happy that you’re no longer hurting and that his transgressions against you didn’t leave a permanent mark on your beautiful soul.  But his heart feels like it’s made of lead; dropping from his chest into his stomach when he thinks of you being on a date.  Din gets up and takes a walk towards the main dining room of the restaurant, looking to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

He sees you right away.  Your back is to him, but he knows its you.  You sit across from a perfectly respectable looking man dressed in a sharp suit – the both of you clearly having come straight from work.  The man probably has some smart corporate job like you, like a lawyer or someone who underwrites space rockets or something cool.  The man is making you laugh; Din can tell by the way your shoulders shake.  He imagines your smile and the way that your eyes crinkle when you think something is super funny but you don’t want to let loose one of those melodic laughs of yours where you throw back your head and the resulting song carries over the crowd.  Din watches as you swirl your wine glass the way he always thought was super adorable, with two of your fingers pressed against the base of the glass stem, before you lift those same fingers to make a gesture with your hand that indicates you’re adding to your date’s story with some witty comment of your own.  Your date’s face lights up and his look of admiration and joy from the pleasure of your company is one that Din knows well. 

He decides can’t watch anymore and slinks back down the hallway; heart ripped to pieces, leaving you to your pleasant evening.

Thanks so much for being patient with me - these chapters are emotionally hard to write and even harder to edit 😅 Since I'm once again yeeting this into universe on a random day instead of my usual posting date, adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (omigod if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo

[omaano]

SW Hades AU June Update

Other monthly updates: May - June - July - August

This month I’ve had some time to organize my notes and plans for my Star Wars meets Hades AU - I have a massive table for all of the characters, which original Hades game character they had been modeled after, and whether they need portraits/tokens/keepsakes/crests/etc. it’s colour coded and everything. (Fennec had to be cut out from the lineup and I’m hopelessly heartbroken about the whole thing* 😭)

Everyone has an icon who needs one (I’m sorry about the Echo and Fives one, okay? But they come as a package deal, and I also wanted to make sure that Echo is easily distinguishable from all the other clone characters and not just the average looking clone guy next to Fives who - by order of elimination - must be Echo), and everyone has a crest who needs one (except for maybe Barriss… I feel like that the Jedi order symbol doesn’t fully fit her, but for now I will keep it as a place holder. I can't come up with anything better for her at the moment T^T. The froggie returned to the “chtonic companions” line (it is exactly the plushie that Echo and Fives would give Grogu), and now there is Batcher too! If you notice any similarities between Batcher and Boba’s old rancor rag doll, it’s mostly because I took that one and modified it to fit the lurca hound, since they have a similar back ridge pattern.

I also think that it could be a cute in-universe thing if the Batcher doll had been modified from the rancor. Timelines are very flexible in this AU anyway, so it could be totally plausible.

Speaking of! I have a character sketch for Omega and Batcher!

It took me a while to settle on which version of Omega I wanted to put into this AU, but I am very happy with what I could come up with in the end. I had some trouble with what to do with her face, since Hades is really lacking in young teenage characters, and even Melinoe and Eris from Hades2 didn’t prove to be of much help, so I allowed a bit more of my own style to slip back in. With everything else I think it hit a nice enough balance. I mixed her s2 and s3 appearance into one outfit and gave her back her hat and old crossbow (I know she got a new one from Echo, but I prefer how this one sticks out over her shoulder).

This seems to be a girls’ update, since the next sketch I want to share concepts Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls! I’ve wanted to add them to this AU for ages, but all that armor and posing had just seemed too much of a hassle up until I had to seriously distract myself from some irl stress. So now I’ve got the trio to stand in for the fury sisters as first bosses. (I'll need to adjust Koska a little, I see it now)

God bless whoever’s decided to make one of those 30 cm action dolls of these guys, they had been so helpful when it came to looking up reference details! (While we are at details: I made Koska left handed (I think? Or opposite handed at the very least) because I had been coming up with their composition under the impression that she had her flame thrower in her right vambrace like Din and Boba do, which, upon further inspection, she does not ^^;)

Some in-universe thoughts regarding them: 1) Din can very much lose the Darksaber to whoever kicks his ass if he runs with is as his weapon of choice, and then has to return to reclaim it from that enemy (he doesn’t want to but they are in his way), and if he loses it either to her or another enemy Bo-Katan will most definitely have an opinion on the matter. 2) Boba is more than happy to swoop in as a “godly call” against Koska. If he has the option to claim the Call boon from Boba, it's a pretty good indicator that it will be Koska waiting for him at the end of the level. 3) After a while and enough encounters Axe starts showing up around and in the arena on this AU’s equivalent of the Elysium level. Paz would do anything not to have to talk about that minor detail. (Din: "Why does Axe Woves keep calling you baby girl?" Paz *steam escaping from the edge of his helmet* "how about we stop talking for a while." <- This meme has been on my mind for months, now you have to suffer it with me XD) After that it’s a boss fight of Din vs Paz and Axe.

This post is getting a bit long, so I will leave my progress with Obi-wan’s background to the next update. I will also make a separate post on the new little portrait icons, but I really liked how cute Rex and Omega looked next to each other in the big lineup Q^Q

*the only thing that made me dedicate myself to this decision with a heavy heart is that Fennec had been in the Bad Batch, and that would give me the ideal excuse to imagine her in a Hades2 inspired AU where she is helping Omega (as a stand in for Melinoe). I’ve thought a lot about this even before the test version of the game came out, and a lot of it would track now that I’ve seen some game play and story and characters but. Let’s not be delusional, I can barely keep up with this project, and the Hades2 art style, while super pretty, has a twist on the first game's art style that makes me want to cry when I think about replicating it ^^; so that just remains a nice little thought experiment.

Ventress went through the same thing, mostly because I think that in a strange way she would fit very well with Hecate's role. Especially after that s3 episode where she had her cameo with her new fancy haircut.

[brian-in-finance]

Thanks for the message, Anon. 😃

So… 18 links… 🤯. Tumblr wouldn’t let me post your message as “was,” so I followed the links, played a mean game of Copy & Paste and added some pics.

Reading through the reviews on Letterboxd to find the six you chose revealed a few things about the film no mainstream review I saw had revealed. Note to self: think carefully about the viewing company you keep.

Caitríona Balfe from “Outlander” plays the boxer’s girlfriend Caitlin, who exists in a constant state of worry. Understandably. But it’s a dull part for a magnetic actress.

New York Post 8 September 2024

Caitlin (an excellent Caitríona Balfe of “Belfast” fame)… a movie that ultimately doesn’t quite add up to enough, especially when Balfe walks out for too long in the final act. See it for the cast, especially the three leads, but it’s more of a technical knockout than a stunning victory.

Roger Ebert 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe (“Belfast,” “Outlander”) can be an uncommonly grounded actress, and she and Bloom create a lived-in relationship that humanizes and creates real stakes for the pugilistic histrionics that surround it. His character’s lack of a name may position him as an everyman, but the little moments of their relationship – glances, raised eyebrows, tilted heads – give his couple a specificity and a shared history in a way exposition never could… film is bookended by quiet scenes between a man and a woman, by beautifully understated performances by Bloom and Balfe.

The Wrap 7 September 2024

The boxer’s wife and business partner (Outlander’s Caitríona Balfe giving more than her role deserves)

The Guardian 6 September 2024

… wife, business partner, and one-time boxing manager, Caitlin (Caitríona Balfe, the film’s secret weapon).

The Playlist 6 September 2024

Despite a trio of knockout performances, The Cut is a lackluster boxing drama… (Caitríona) Balfe gives a thankless role her all as the lone woman in this boys' club. Caitlin has a dark past too, alluding to a struggle with addiction. But we never learn any of her past in detail despite numerous and repetitive flashbacks to Boxer's bleak childhood. Instead, it's left to Balfe to convey it all through Caitlin's stricken expressions and misplaced devotion to Boxer. She even gets a few moments to shine as a fighter herself, training Boxer for his fight before Boz takes over… Balfe is a sublime talent, but she deserves far better material that doesn't rely on her to make up for deficiencies in the writing… Because despite these three strong performances… The Cut has the potential to be something fresh and interesting with three particularly fine actors at its heart.

Entertainment Weekly 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe and John Tuturo’s colliding performances gave the film a realistic edge, which makes the audience question their own morals.

Movie Scene Canada (Twitter) 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe is equally compelling as a supportive wife and coach to her boxer husband.

Movie Moves Me 6 September 2024

The Cut is it is one of few boxing films that gives the female lead a pivotal role that’s more than a love interest/nagging the fighter to quit. Caitríona Balfe is a tough-as-nails trainer who gets in the ring w/ Orlando & may throw a punch!

Flick Chick DC (Twitter) 5 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe is fierce as Caitlin. She’s simultaneously supportive and a fighter. Her verbal spats with Boz are a treat, and she’s honestly the character who best balances strength and emotional maturity.

Screen Rant 7 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe was the main highlight, for me. It's difficult to pull off the role of voice of reason against the hell-bent protagonist without coming off as annoying or making it feel like they're just slowing the story down, but she killed it.

Reddit 6 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe (and John) Turturro.. are never less than engaging and believable in their side parts.

IndieWire 5 September 2024

Bloom… gives a great, dedicated, and physically challenging performance — as does the wonderful Caitríona Balfe

Bloom promised us all a stiff drink for enduring this movie and I think that says a lot. (Caitríona) Balfe was great.

The cast is phenomenal. Turturro is marvelous as The Boss, pushing our fighters to their literal breaking point. (Caitríona) Balfe gives a heart wrenching performance of a former addict watching their partner fall into their own addiction.

I think Caitlin's character gets a little bit lost, and she was such a great part of the movie, I wish they did a little bit more with her.

Orlando Bloom and John Turturro are very good but I really think the star is Caitríona Balfe!! She was very underutilized.

Performances are good, especially Orlando's and Caitríona Balfe's. To me she was the standout.

Letterboxd 5 & 6 September 2024

Remember… what distinguishes modern art from the art of other ages is criticism. — Octavio Paz

[maybege]

What If - Part 3

Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.

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

Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love

Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.

There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.

The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.

But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.

Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.

“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”

You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”

Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”

He shook his head fervently.

“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”

“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.

True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.

“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.

“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.

“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”

He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.

“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.

“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”

He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.

“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”

That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”

“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”

The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”

Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”

Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.

“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”

“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“

“Who do we have here?”

“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.

“You are – He is – What –“

“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”

You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.

Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.

The thought made you feel strangely queasy.

“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”

“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.

“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.

“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.

“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”

“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”

“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”

“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”

“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.

“Did you sleep well?”

You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”

His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”

“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”

Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.

“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”

“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”

*

The ship offered no privacy.

While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.

This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.

The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.

“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.

Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.

You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.

Your alpha.

You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.

You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.

Fuck, you were needy for him.

“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.

“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.

He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”

“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.

And you did not want to have it any other way.

You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”

“Wh-What?”

“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”

“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.

“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.

“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

Of course, you did. And he knew it.

With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.

You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.

As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.

And worry about other things.

“What if someone sees?”

“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”

Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.

Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.

Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”

You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.

Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.

Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.

“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”

His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.

With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.

It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.

You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.

“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”

Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.

You wanted this man to be your alpha.

Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.

“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”

“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”

“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”

He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.

“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”

Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.

“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.

He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”

“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”

“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”

*

You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.

“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”

You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.

As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.

It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.

But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.

The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.

You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.

Briggs called them idiots.

But Paz was not an idiot.

Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.

And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.

“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”

You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.

“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”

You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”

“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”

You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?

With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.

The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.

“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.

You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.

“You know you cannot intervene.”

“Chants –“

“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.

A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.

However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.

Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.

It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.

You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.

But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.

“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”

Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.

“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.

“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”

That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”

“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”

“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”

“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.

“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”

“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”

[bpcr3yes]

Can you write about Valeria having child again😭😭 valeria mom headcanon cure all my ills

even if she is manipulative asf, I think she would be a very good and calm mom since her mom was very toxic, thinking about her daughter having to go through all she had to make her disgusted (in my head)

Reading this request made me change my thinking a little

Valéria would probably do her best to raise her daughter but sometimes it can be tiring, she would probably yell at her but apologize later because she doesn't want to be like the mother she had

After your daughter was born she didn't leave you for even a second in the first few months, she wanted to be close to the baby to help raise it, after the birth she always found a way to be at home, at lunch time, during afternoon or even at night taking you to dinner.

She would try to be a present mother, no matter how much the cartel demands a lot from her, she would always find a way to escape to be with her family.

Now let's imagine her daughter reaching teenager

We all know that teenagers are terrible, but pre-teens are even worse.

imagine her coming home and hearing her daughter yelling at you because you made something that she won't eat.

''¡¿Por qué le gritas a tu madre?! ¡¡¡Ella hace todo bien por ti y la tratas así?!!!'' She shouts at her daughter as she watches her climb the stairs of the mansion and go to her room, slamming the door

''María, ven aquí ahora y discúlpate con tu madre, AHORA.'' She screams while waiting a few seconds for your daughter to come back and apologize to you but that doesn't happen a scream is heard

''Déjame en paz mamá!!'' Your daughter shouts up the stairs, Valeria huffs in anger as she threatens to go up but you stop her first.

''Relax Ria, leave her alone for a while.'' you say in a tired tone as you dry your hands on the kitchen towel, the two of you didn't always argue but lately it's been happening a lot

You hear Valeria snort as she climbs the stairs ignoring your calls, you just shake your head slightly in denial knowing full well what would happen next

It is possible to hear some of Valéria's screams in Spanish, she was probably giving her girl a lecture but the screams gradually diminish until there is only silence

silence, this makes you raise your head worriedly as you start to climb the stairs, heading towards your daughter's room you peek through the crack in the door, the view you have makes your heart warm

Valéria hugging her daughter while murmuring a short sermon in Spanish to her, leaning against the door frame watching the scene with a smile on her face, daughter comes to you apologizing for having shouted.

''Lo siento mamá, no debería haberte gritado.'' She murmurs as she buries her head in your chest, you tell her it's okay, your gaze lifts to Valeria who looks at you with a smug smile.

''You spoiled her a lot'' Valeria mumbles as she approaches you, stroking her daughter's hair.

''Someone has to do it, right?'' you smile at her while placing a kiss on the top of your child's head

Valéria just shakes her head slightly as she walks through the door ''Come on corazon, let's have lunch uh.'' She mutters as she sees her daughter walk down the stairs.

Before you can get down she grabs you hugging you from the back, you laugh softly as you feel your wife bury her head in your neck

you turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck as you smile sweetly at your loving wife.

''you're a good mother Valeria.'' I murmur as I caress the back of her neck lightly. ''our daughter is lucky to have a mother like you''

Valeria's eyes shine when she hears this, small tears form in her eyes as she lets out a small sigh.

''I try to be.'' she murmurs while shaking her head to keep the tears away, you lean in and capture her lips in a sweet kiss that doesn't last long because of your daughter's screams down the stairs

''we better go before she starves to death.'' valéia laughs as she grabs you hand going down the stairs.

she couldn't help but say thank you as she held her rosary, thanking her for having a family like this.

[djarincore]

Bethrothed

summary: You finally get to meet the knight you’re going to marry.

word count: 716

tags: royalty!au, knight!din, arranged marraige

a/n: the second part of my 500 words a day series. the letter is B for bethrothed!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Following the sudden, tragic death of your older sibling, you were thrust into a position as your kingdom’s future ruler. The duties and obligations they left behind were piled on you all at once—suffocating you to the point of madness. You were no longer yourself, just a doll filling in the unfillable void their older sibling left behind. 

When new threats began to arise, your future as ruler seemed bleak. But, you would do anything to save your kingdom from the threat of ruin, even if it meant marrying a man you did not know. 

As you sat at the meeting table, you could only focus on the grinding of your teeth and the feeling of your mother's reassuring hand over yours beneath the table to stop the tremors in your clenched hands. You spared a glance across the table toward the sitting red-haired woman, Bo-Katan Kryze, the ruler of your neighboring kingdom, and her masked knight, Din Djarin, standing tall at her side. 

She was reading through the parchment in front of her, fingers rhythmically tapping against the table. It wasn’t fair that a flimsy piece of paper held your entire future—the kingdom’s future—in between its ink lines and you could only sit and watch it dry. The knight by her side hadn’t moved an inch since she sat down; you would have thought he was a statue if not for the steady rise and fall of his shoulders.

Your gaze lingered on the knight—he would be your future husband. The helmet he wore was intimidating, cold, and you had no idea what he was thinking; it unnerved you.  

“Why don’t the two of you take a walk and get to know one another?” She suggested. “This might take a while.” 

“Yes,” your mother chimed in, “good idea. Take Paz with you, dear.”

Your ever-loyal personal guard stepped forward and you rose from your chair with a pasted-on smile. “The gardens are lovely this time of year,” you said. Appearance was everything now that you were set to rule. 

“Go on,” Bo-Katan urged. 

The knight moved around the table and extended his arm wordlessly. You slipped your hand through his arm and lead the way with Paz trailing close behind. 

In the fresh air of the gardens, you slipped your hand free of his and dropped your smile. “It’s awfully rude to keep your helmet on, sir,” you said, brushing your finger over the petals of a red rose. “Something you’re hiding?” 

“Apologies.” The voice you finally heard was low behind the helmet and made you pause. There was no denying the rasp was attractive. When you turned to him again, the helmet was gone, tucked beneath his arm. 

Your eyes were drawn to the scruff along his jaw, the slope of his strong nose, and the deep brown eyes. He was certainly handsome and you almost didn’t want to look away. 

“That’s a bit better,” you hummed. His eyes flitted away from yours. You continued the walk down the cobbled path while Din trailed behind at a similar pace to Paz. “And there’s no need to behave like a knight with me.” You ushered him forward and when he hesitated, Paz gave him a slight shove. 

He took careful steps forward and bowed his head. 

“Are you as uncomfortable with this arrangement?” His head snapped back up and you gave him a wavering smile.

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“Not at all.” You shook your head and approached him, resting a hand on his arm. “Strange, isn’t it? To think you know where your life is headed and suddenly everything is out of your control.” 

Your smile fell. If you had it your way, neither of you would be in this position and you’d return to the carefree attitude you once had, free of crushing obligation.

Din cradled your hand, determination set in his eyes. “Then allow me to make a vow; I will do my best to make you happy.”

Your cheeks were warmed by his words. “You’re certainly the kindest knight I’ve ever met.” You glanced over your shoulder at Paz. “No offense.”

A grunt was Paz’s only response. 

You looked back at Din with a true smile now. “And I will do my best as well.”

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

So I just made a post about the og Avatar way of water script but I wanted to dedicate a whole separate post to our boy so here's the Spider moments that made me go feral for better or worse.

We've already read Spider's first meeting with Quaritch so I will skip that and move to

That initial fight in the woods was much more intense with Ardmore there firing from the skies and ikrans attacking airships (which would have been cool to see) When Quaritch sees Spider at risk though he completely calls everything off.

next this Norm and Spider moment,

A little extension of Spider out with the recoms for the first time

Quaritch loves his feisty son. I didn't take a screenshot of it but in the og script during the montage of Spider throwing things and hitting his cell door back at Bridgehead he also takes a piss on the two way mirror and Quaritch was proud of him for it.

"He's our brother from another mother" 😭

honestly this is such a small scene that they needed to keep. I've heard way to many people say "Spider still has the tracker in his mask! he's going to lead the r.d.a to the Sully's on purpose/accident and this little scene would have stopped all of that unnecessary Spider hate. (All Spider hate is unnecessary but I digress)

Once again Quaritch holds his fire to make sure Spider doesn't get hurt

I'm just weak. First this scene playing out like the extended version we got on the dvd, Neytiri slamming Spider to the ground when she lets him go, but most importantly Spider believes Quaritch really does loves him. It's so sad it took a situation like this though for him to know that.

This just hurts my heart. Even after Neytiri just held him at knife point he still loves and is 100% loyal to the Sully family to the point where he considers letting the person that actually does love him die. Like i know Spider really just loves his friends and he admires Jake but just wow...

Side note..

Quaritch and Lyle are the only two recoms left....

Yikes. Look Neytiri is in grief so she's allowed to feel her feelings and lash out. I'm just looking at this and looking at the scene on the ship and looking at the comics and you know, I think they're making it pretty obvious that she hates this kid. I know some people really want Neytiri to be a mom to Spider, trust me I get it, I wrote it in one of my fics, but in cannon I just don't think this a bridge that can be mended (especially if the rumor that Neytiri is the one who killed Paz is true because then...)

Anyway would love to hear everybody's thoughts 💙

[corazondebeskar-reads]

toni's fanfic masterlist

a collection of all of my fic, mostly ft. Din Djarin and Joel Miller

Key: 🏴 = dark, 💕 = fluff, ⛓ = bdsm, 💀 = dead dove do not eat

18+ ONLY, minors DNI. All fics on this list are explicit and f!reader unless otherwise stated.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

last updated: 5/24/2024

Din Djarin

Series

⛓💕 well it's love, make it hurt

(Complete, dom!Din Djarin x f!reader)

summary: After The Mandalorian begrudgingly teamed up with you for a big-ticket bounty, you find you work surprisingly well together, and you propose a short-term partnership. Weeks become months, and your hunting partnership becomes muddled as you explore a new dynamic onboard the Razor Crest.

🏴 live to rise

(complete; gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader)

summary: The Last of the Mandalorians have fallen; their Mand'alor captured. Stripped of his armor, his weapons, his people. Din rises to fight another day, grasping onto the hope that his son still lives.

No fighter has won their freedom from the Empire's arena before. With the help of a servant girl, can he hope to break free?

One Shots

don't let me get carried away

summary: Mando finds the toy you use when he's gone and makes you demonstrate.

for Manda'yaim (Din Djarin x f!reader x Paz Vizsla)

summary: Now that they have reclaimed their homeworld, the Children of the Watch resurrect an ancient ritual to secure the future of their people. Reader is one of the volunteers chosen to bear the next generation of Mando'ade.

🏴💀 worry not

summary: Mand'alor Din Djarin is haunted by the Darksaber, and you suffer the consequences.

💕 mhi ba'juri verde

summary: After Din is crowned Mand'alor, you make good on your promise to fulfill the rest of your vows.

🏴 ori'skraan

summary: The Mand'alor needs to feed to regain his strength, so you are called upon to fulfill the most sacred of your duties.

🏴💀I'll take care of you

summary: Din takes care of you after a head injury leaves you helpless.

stuck in a lonely loop

summary: Din can't let go of the feeling that something's wrong, even if you deny it.

🏴nobody is coming to save you

summary: You get caught by a Mandalorian bounty hunter after fleeing your marriage.

Din Djarin x reader x Boba Fett

copaani gaan? (Din Djarin x f!reader x Boba Fett)

summary: Din catches you blushing after Boba Fett flirts with you. He instigates and encourages you to fuck Fett while he watches.

mhi me'dinui an and prequel (Din Djarin x f!reader x Boba Fett x Cobb Vanth)

summary: After the events of The Book of Boba Fett, you get railed by Din Djarin, Boba Fett, and Cobb Vanth.

Joel Miller

Series

🏴💀 all I did was what I had to (complete; dark!Joel x f!reader)

summary: this is a series of snapshots following dark!raider/hunter!Joel Miller and f!reader, who he saves from her abusive spouse for a slightly better situation. It's very dark and so far all the parts involve watersports, if that's your kind of thing.

you know you never stood a chance (complete; qz!Joel x f!reader)

summary: When your neighbor Joel finds out you've resorted to prostitution to make ends meet, he makes sure he's your first client, and proposes a different deal.

ain't no rest for the wicked (complete; tess x f!reader x joel)

summary: Joel would never complain about what he and Tess have. The only thing is that, sometimes, he’d like to be the one in control. Tess has a proposition: she’ll find a sub for Joel that they can both enjoy. It’s not an easy feat... until they stumble upon you in a dark alley. 

🏴💀 the art of breaking

summary: Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

🏴of rage and ruin (ongoing; werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader)

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

One Shots

🏴💀 the devil you don't know (or however it goes)

summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity. This is VERY dark.

-- the aftermath (by demand; my thoughts on the possible endings. i stand by the original though.)

💕 a home amongst the stars

summary: Joel gets home after a late patrol and finds solace in your warm body.

💕 to know that you're mine

summary: Joel Miller is a pussy eating king with a praise kink. That's it, that's the fic. sub!Joel if you squint.

remember what you're staring at is me

summary: A videotape is left on your porch one morning, and it changes everything about your budding relationship with Joel Miller.

drabbles/ficlets

🏴💀 too much

summary: you never know when to shut up.

🏴 not enough

summary: a companion to "too much;" it's rough sex and choking with Joel. that's it, that's the fic.

🏴💀no one could save me but you

summary: You're under the care of Dr. Miller at an inpatient mental health facility. He has a vested interest in your "recovery."

🏴💀seasons don't

summary: Your husband dies a hero, but it's no comfort to you.

🏴💀no loyalty in the apocalypse

summary: Your group falls victim to Joel Miller's hunters.

🏴💀better run

summary: You should have never tried to run from Joel.

💕 let's all go to the lobby

summary: a date night with joel miller

💕 could be

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

Honorable Mentions: Events

(most of these are in the other sections but if you want to read through in order, there's this.)

Kinktober 2023

Febuwhump 2024

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Hi!

So, I've seen a few sporadic opinions from you on the different parental figures, adoptive or otherwise, people have come up with for Spider. Since I absolutely love reading your opinions and ideas regarding Avatar, I really wanted to ask: based on what you've seen from the fandom so far, what do you think of the different parents people give Spider?

Thanks! :)

Hi! Aww, I appreciate that! Sure, let's see what we can come up with.

So, I have given a few more detailed thoughts on most parents for Spider, so if anyone wants those just ask for those specific ones. Here I will just give basic thoughts.

Miles Quaritch; this one should be obvious. Bad, abusive, parent. Can never be a good one, their entire relationship at this point is built on manipulation and forced trauma bonding. He Patty Hearst'ed this child. The fandom is kidding themselves and it does make me upset.

Paz Socorro; this one is a tad more understandable, but the push to make Paz a sympathetic character confuses me. We only know canonical bad things about her. She could be anything though, she's a blank slate, so even though it isn't a headcanon I enjoy, it doesn't bother me.

Sully Family: I've made many longer posts about this, but they are my favorite Spider parents. Not only is it where the story intends to go, but it's so interesting. I love found familys, even when it hurts and it's a little fucked up, and that's just where he belongs in my opinion. They have the ability to understand him better than anyone else ever could.

Tonowari and Ronal: This one to me, while usually adorable, is like a fun little delusional fantasy. It's hard for me to get into because it feels so out of reality. That lovely cunty bitch Ronal is nEVER going to be nice to Spider. She is going to treat him like dirt next movie in the beginning, and it is going to break our little hearts. Obsessed with her, lol. Let her be the judgemental bitch she is.

Tsu'tey and Norm Spellman: These ones both mean the entire world to me, not gonna lie. Not as much as Spider Sully, but it's god damn close. It's like he's Spider Sully and still had a good childhood but still was raised with the Sully kids as their barnacle bestie, and can still be in any of his rarepairs. It makes my day. Someone write me one where Norm and Tsu'tey raise Spider tOGETHER, while being IN LOVE.

[loakstahni]

Sluttly little waist~

MDNI🔞 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! DONT LIKE? DONT READ!!

A/N- I was bored as hell- and kept thinking about quaritch being vary vocal during sex and stuff, plus i keep seeing fics based around it so wanted to give a go at it!!

Recom!miles quaritch x avatar!fem reader

Smut without plot, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, female and male orgasm, quaritch getting whiny, slight overstemulated quaritch, dryhumping, tsaheylu.

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

Info:

You and quaritch had been sneaking around for a few months now, well.. More like a whole year, it started when quaritch got his frist rut after becoming a na'vi and he instantly went to find you. He had always been drawn to you as human, but then he met paz, had miles Jr, and then died.

Now he didn't have anything except his squad, he didn't want to be with walker, or z-dog, Yes they were nice and stuff but he didn't, just didn't feel drawn to them.

You were on the head of the avatar program, still working to get to understand Pandora and the na'vi better. You had so much experience as a na'vi, so much more then miles. And thats why he went to you first.

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

It was late, and yet you were wide awake, miles laided out over your bed. His tail curled tightly around yours, "can you out the book down and cuddle me already?" He grumbles, yellow eyes glaring up at you. You giggle softly, your ears twitching. You'd often stay in your avatar body for days before returning to your human one, you we thinking of having a Consciousness transfer done but still didn't know yet.

"Let me finish this chapter first, ok kitty?" You giggle softly, gently ruffling his short, shaved black hair. "Don't call me fuckin' kitty." Miles grumbles, slightly leaning his head up to chase after your touch before you pull your hand away. "Ok ok, i won't call you kitty anymore." You laugh softly, leaning back agaisnt your headboard and you bury your nose back into the book you were reading.

Quaritch sighs softly, turning his head and looking at your candle that smelled like fresh rain and musk. His nose twitches slightly at the scent, he secretly loved it but never told you. "Ok, fuck the book, im done waiting." He grumbles, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you down until your flat on your back, he slaps the book from your hold and pushes it off the bed, surely losing the page you were reading.

"Hey! That was uncalled for-" miles cuts your bitching off with a rough kiss, he grips at your hips, tugging yours upwards towards his with a hungry growl. "Zip it." He growls after breaking the kiss, he slips a hand up the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head and throwing it somewhere off your bed. "Hm.. There my girls are.." He hums softly, leaning down, nuzzling his face into your breasts through your sports bra. "Fuckin' love these things.." Miles grumbles, a rough and deep purr rumbling deep in his throat.

"You always say that." You giggle softly, your ears drooping submivssely and your face flushing a deep purple. "Because they are perfect.." He mumbles, gently unhooking your bra from your shoulders and slowly pulling it off with a deep groan. "Yeah.. There they are.." He instantly starts kneading at your breasts with his rough, warm hands. Your breath hitches and your arch your back up into him. He kneads at your breasts for a few more moments before sitting up, pulling his tank top off and throwing it aside before working his belt off.

"Miss me that much?" You tease with a giggle, lifting your hips off your bed as you pull your sweats down, tossing them off the bed. "You never learn to shut your mouth?" He growls, his ears flat to his skull making you shiver a bit. Quaritch throws his belt off your bed and his cammies follow soon after. "Thought you loved when i don't shut up." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his sluttly little waist and pulling him down towards you again.

"For God's sake, zip it." He chuckles roughly, placing a hand by your head so he could hover over you. He pushes his hips flush against yours, shoving his cloth covered bulge agaisnt your covered heat. "Mhm.." You groan softly, letting your head drop back agaisnt your pillows. Quaritch rolls his hips forward, grinding his cock agaisnt your clothed clit with a deep growl.

"Mhp! S-stop teasing please.." You whine softly, your eyes looking up to his. "You started it." He growls, pulling you kuru braid over your chest before reaching back and pulling his over his shoulder. "Miles, wait! You don't know what your doing-" he glares down at you, yellow eyes piercing right through your soul. "Don't test me, I know exactly what im doing." He carefully brings his kuru down to yours, watching as your pink little tendrils search for his before they intagle together, glowing a light pink.

His head drops down to your shoulder and he grips your hip with his free hand, his pupils dilating as his mind of flooded with you, and your mind is flooded with him. "M-miles.." You whine softly, gently grabbing at his arm. "Yeah.. I gotcha.." He mumbles, his tail curling around your thigh. He sits up, quickly pulling your underwear down your thighs and leaving them to hang on one of your ankles. Miles stares down at your slick folds, his ears swiveled forward in awe. He's never seen you this wet, and he's fucked you enough to know so.

"Goddamn, babygirl.." He mumbles, leaning down closer to your cunt. Quaritch presses his nose into the top of your pelvic bone, letting out a deep groan before lifting himself back up. You look up at him, your ears drooped and face flushed. "What..?" You ask shyly, your tail thumping against your mattress. "Your soaked, like.. I've never seen you this worked up." He rasps, sitting up on his knees and pulling his boxers down to his ankles. He hovers back over you, pushing his hips forwards, making his hard cockhead ram into your clit.

"Miles!" You squeak, your hands grabbing at his sides. "Hm, my bad." He chuckles, angling his hips down a bit and pushing forwards again. The head of his cock catching against your entrance, he chuckles deeply, shoving his hips forwards, bury his length to the hilt in one quick movement. "Mhm! Easy please!" You whine out, your gummy walls hugging him tightly.

Miles groans softly, feeling just how overly sensitive you both were from making tsaheylu. "Yeah, sorry not happening tonight." Miles withdraws his hips, before thrusting forward again with a deep moan. He repeats this until he's found a good deep and rough pace. His head drops down into your your chest, his nose pressed in between your breasts as he thrusts in and out of your tight walls.

"Fuck! S-slow down.. Mhpf!" You sob, your hands grabbing at his back and shoulders, nails digging into his sweaty azure skin. "Can't- fuckin' can't." He growls, gripping your hips tightly. Quaritch's heavy, full balls slapping against the curve of your ass each time he slams home. He felt high, high off the feeling of being bonded with you, he felt if he didn't fuck you hard he would lose it.

His pace starts growing sloppy, thrusts growing shallow as his high started forming in his core. Your whines and moans grew louder and more drawn out, indicating you were too, almost there. Miles reaches a hand down, rubbing roughly against your clit making you sob. "C-cumming fuck!" You squeak, you walls clenching tightly around his length as you release your clear arousal all over his shaft.

Quaritch whines into your chest, stilling his hips for a moment. His knot starting to swell at the base of his cock, he desperately humps against you, gripping at your bruised hips. "Oh Fuck, fuck! Open up f'r me.. C'mon!" He growls, shoving his hips forwards once more, his thick knot popping into your tight heat making you screech weakly. He whines loudly into your chest, hips pumping desperately into your cunt as his length throbs roughly inside your walls as he unloads himself inside you.

"Damn.. Oh fuck.." You pant, gently cradling his head agasint your chest. Miles pants heavily, his body shivering as he lets himself collapse ontop of you. His knot tied into your gummy walls, insuring none of his seed go to waste.

Quaritch lifts his head from your chest, gently kissing your forehead then giving you a soft kiss. "I love you, Y/n.." He mumbles, letting his head flop back against your breasts. "I love you too, miles.." You whisper Horsley.

Now miles had more of a reason to be with you. You were his and he was yours, for life..

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

[imeanwhynotbruv]

Don’t touch my child.

<if Paz Socorro lived Au>

Summary: Little Spider keeps getting picked on, Paz isn’t happy about it but kids are cruel. However, adults are old enough to know better and Paz is willing to put them all in their place if they don’t……………even if they’re visiting tribal leaders.

(Both of the clan leaders are real characters so you can google them to see what they look like 😁)

•••

Both the Olangi and Tayrangi clans had been staying with the Omatikaya for the past week. Things had been going reasonably well despite the initial tension of the clans interacting with sky people again after the war.

After the first incident of a few Olangi warriors getting riled up over the scientists, it had been unanimously decided that everyone would be better off if the humans stayed away….. decided by everyone but Spider and the Sully kids that is.

Other than that, as far as Jake could tell everything was going great. The people were happy to have something the celebrate and they were strengthening there bonds with their allies, not to mention catching up with old friends.

So yeah, everything was going great, the evening meeting was getting on almost perfectly….……until an angry Paz Socorro walked into the tent with her son sleeping on her hip.

“Paz, nows not a great time. I’ll speak with you once the meetings over” Jake spoke dismissively before apologising to the others chieftains for the interruption.

Paz scowled at him whilst she gently repositioned Spider so as not to disturb his sleep.

“No Jake. Now” a stunned silence filled the room. Mo’at only raised an intrigued eyebrow in response.

“You do not speak to the Olo’eyktan in that way demon” Akwey, the Olo’eyktan of the Olangi, raised his voice in outrage.

Paz’s cold eye scanned the man up and down before giving a disapproving humph and turning to Jake once again.

“Jake I’m going to need you to translate for me real quick, I want to make sure my words are understood” Paz’s voice was as cold as ice as she spoke.

“Paz, now is really not-“ Jake began to protest before Paz interrupted him whilst rolling her eyes.

“Mo’at, would you be a dear?” Paz asked sweetly as she gave the woman a genuine smile. She’d always been rather fond of the Tsahík since she’s met her.

“Certainly” Mo’at nodded. The feeling was very mutual. Paz smiled and nodded her head again in thanks.

“This is ridiculous!” Akwey yelled in outrage. Ikeyni, the young leader of the Tayrangi, nodded her head in silent agreement.

“Tsk” Paz only clicked her tongue in disappointment, seemingly spurring the man on.

“This demon has no voice here! It is a meeting of our clans!” The man continued yelling.

“You done?” Paz asked, her voice filled with motherly disappointment.

“How dare you-!?” His words were quickly cut off.

“Okay nose pick you had your turn. Now listen up” Paz’s voice was sharp and quiet as she gently bounced Spider, keeping him asleep despite the noise. Jake’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes briefly flickered to the stick piercing the bridge of the man’s nose.

“First of all, lower your voice. My son is sleeping and we’re all adults with fully functioning ears here” Paz said as she raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“This cannot be allowed!?” Akwey exclaimed.

“Akwey, be quiet so this can be done” Ikeyni groaned, earning a shocked look from the man and an approving nod from Paz.

“Thank you sweetheart” Paz briefly smiled to the young Olo’eyktan as if Ikeyni was a small child. Only to get shocked eyes in return from the woman.

Akwey huffed in annoyance.

“I’ll be brief. As I’ve said, this is my sweet little boy. His name is Miles but he prefers to be called Spider, if you talk to him you will address him as such. But” Paz turned towards Akwey as she paused.

“I would rather you don’t go near my son again as it’s you I have a problem with” Paz’s voice was heavily laced with venom she directed towards the man, whilst simultaneously rocking Spider gently from side to side.

“What’s this about?”Jake finally asked in confusion.

“Jake hunny, don’t interrupt me I’m still talking” Paz didn’t even turn towards him, only raising a single finger in his direction as her eyes focused on Akwey.

Jake sat stunned as Ikeyni attempted to stifle a snort.

“Earlier today, you insulted my son before grabbing him by the arm. I’m told you lifted him up before dropping him again after he bit you” Paz’s frown deepened whilst her voice remained quiet and reprimanding. Jake’s eyes widened in shock before his face darkened in displeasure.

“Whilst I don’t condone him biting you as that’s not how I raised him. I also can’t condemn him as you are an adult who should know better, especially after seeing the bruise you left on my little boy” Paz gently pulled Spider’s wrist into view, displaying a large darkening bruise across his forearm.

“Imagine my shock, as a mother, when my son comes crying to me saying this was the work of an adult” Paz gave the man a joyless smile. Jake could feel the malice radiating off of Paz’s small form, slowly but surly building the tension within room.

“So, seeing as no one has taught you this lesson it is my job to do so” Jake watched as the confidence slowly drained out of Akwey’s features. Even Jake himself was feeling uncomfortable and he wasn’t even the focus of the woman’s ire.

“You are a Na’vi adult, meaning you are very big and very strong” Paz paused, as if wanting to make sure the man was still following along.

“My son, is a six year old human, meaning he is little and breakable” Paz placed a gentle loving kiss onto Spider’s soft curls.

“Therefore, you should not put your hands on him, you should not manhandle him as if he was a Viperwolf or some other beast. Do you understand so far?”Akwey hesitantly nodded for the woman to continue.

“Good. So here is what we are going to do, and here is my warning. I will say it once so listen well” Paz’s voice was soft and firm as she repositioned a wriggling Spider, situating him comfortably on her other side.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to apologise to my son and explain to him that what you did is in no way acceptable, and you feel sincerely sorry” Paz waited a moment, her eyes briefly flickering to each Olo’eyktan.

“This applies to all of you so listen up” Jake found himself subconsciously sitting up straighter. He was relived to see Ikeyni doing the same.

“If my son miss behaves you will bring him to me and I will punish him accordingly. You will be respectful and polite to everyone, including my child, just as you would any member or your clan.” Ikeyni silently nodded along to Paz’s words, although they felt more like orders none would dare to disobey.

“Most importantly, you will never put your hands on my child again, or I will tare you into tiny pieces and feed you to a Thanator. Am I understood?” There was no inflection in the woman’s voice, no empty threat in her words or an ounce of hesitation in her eyes. All three of them nodded instantly.

Jake wouldn’t soon forget the chill that ran up his spine as the woman smiled and nodded, he doubted any of the other chiefs would either.

“Good. Now I need to tuck my little Spider into bed, and you all have a meeting to get on with. Mo’at, thank you for being such a darling and translating for me” Paz grind sweetly at the woman, receiving and approving nod in return.

“Mmhmm mama” Spider mumbled as he began to stir.

“Shh baby go back to sleep, mama’s got you don’t worry” Paz gently rocked him back to sleep as he curled tighter around her.

“Good night” Paz whispered as she walked out of the tent.

“Good night” They all whispered back.

A thick silence fell within the tent, only to be broken when Mo’at let out an amused huff before leaving to…..well jake wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do.

“I feel as if my mother has just told me off” Akwey spoke hesitantly.

“For one so small………she is fierce, like a mother 'angtsìk……I like her…but she is still very scary” Ikeyni said softly in amusement.

“Your telling me” Jake huffed as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Ma Jake, are you done?” Neytiri said as she popped her head inside the tent.

Jake took a moment to look at the too faces sat across from him.

“Yeah..yeah I think we’re done for now” despite having talked about nothing they had originally planned, both Akwey and Ikeyni instantly nodded in agreement.

The next morning Spider received a sincere apology, from a very sorry Olo’eyktan, much to the shock of everyone….well almost everyone.

Ikeyni spent the rest of her trip with Paz when she wasn’t needed elsewhere, asking the woman for advise on how to get stubborn warriors to listen to her without hesitation…..and complimenting and indulging Spiders every whim.

If Jake found himself referring to Paz as ma’am more often……well that was nobody’s business.

•••

I had so much fun writing this! ⭐️⭐️

It also turned out way longer than planned 😅

I totally see Paz as this short lady who will put anyone in there place😂 even big scary Olo’eyktans.

Let me know if you have questions or ideas🫶 or if you just liked the fic❤️

I hope you enjoyed reading this my lovelies❤️❤️

[lost-girl-2021]

Adopted Spider Part 3 (Final Part)

I think Spider would be really confused when the truth comes out. Because, he doesn’t know who to believe anymore. His dad— his real dad, Jake —always told him that Paz was a good woman, was someone he should be proud to be the son of. But, Quaritch told him that his mom died because of Jake, that she (and Quaritch) died in the Great Battle, leaving Spider an orphan. I think the boat scene would go differently too, because Quaritch and Jake would both be trying to get Spider to come to them and Spider just doesn’t know what to do.

“Spider, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, just take a breath.” Dad soothed, reaching towards him. Spider had missed his dad so much, had missed his voice and his hugs and—

“He said you lied.” Spider cried. “He— he said Paz was a part of the RDA. That you killed her! He . . . he said he’s my real dad.”

“I’m your dad. I’m the one who taught you to walk and hunt and fish— “

“Because I never got the chance!” Quaritch shouted from Spider’s other side. “Your mother never got the chance.”

“Spider, we can talk about everything tomorrow, I promise. But, ‘Teyam’s hurt and your Mama needs you— I need you. You need to come home.”

“You left me.” He whimpered. “You left the forest.”

“We were always going to come for you— “

“They didn’t.” Quaritch snapped. “I was the one who protected you from the general. I was the one who took care of you— “

“He stole you. Tuk and your mama haven’t stopped crying since that day.”

I do think Spider would go with Jake and I imagine one of his siblings waiting off the edge of the boat and zipping away with his brother as soon as they have him. They don’t stay to watch the fight, but Older Sibling drops Spider off with their family and then Lo’ak and Kiri head back to the shipwreck, worried about their dad. Neytiri is with Neteyam, who is asleep but stable (Neteyam lives in everything I write at this point, lol). And Tuk, who was pressed against her mother’s side, launches herself at Spider as soon as she sees him. Neytiri does the same, fawning over him and holding him and— well, I don’t think anyone would let him out of their sight for a while after reuniting.

I think that no matter how Spider and Quaritch’s relationship was, he’d feel bittersweet when the man dies. Especially since it was Jake who killed him. I also feel like after they were reunited, there would be an adjustment period for everyone.

For Spider, he’s grown and changed in his time away from his family. He learned how to sharpen his own knives and knows a lot of English swear words now. His hair is worse for wear, but when he lets his mom take him to wash it, he ends up crying. Because, he missed her so much. And he had almost forgotten how nice it felt to have his mom hold him.

He can keep up with his siblings a bit better out of the water and excels under the water, since he doesn’t need to take breaks to breathe. He tires out faster, given his smaller body and how unused his muscles are to so much time underwater. But, he can stay under a lot longer and he learns how to use their weapons fairly quickly.

His siblings probably try to go back into their old dynamics, but some of the jokes just aren’t funny anymore and none of them know how to talk about Spider’s time with the RDA. He has nightmares now, more than he ever had before.

This ended up being a whole ass fanfic idea, but IDK how it would end. With angst, probably. Might make into a fic eventually, I never know where I’m going when I start having ideas, lol.

[604to647]

Let Me Carry It for You

(A Safest with You “Big Game” Drabble)

880 words / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din’s love language is Acts of Service.

Warnings: None! All fluff! New-ish established relationship, pet names as usual (Pretty bird, baby, etc.) Contains absolutely no football at all 🏈

A/N: I wrote this on my phone while waiting for the UsherBowl to start 😂 Set after Ch. 11 - The Poker Game but can be read as a standalone ☺️

Series Masterlist

Al races you to the top of the stairs at Din’s place and wins easily; tail wagging, he noses open the door and runs in as soon as you’ve turned the key and pressed down the handle.

“Alfredo!!!”

“We put the Puppy Bowl on for you, bud!!”

Din gets up from his place on the couch, giving you a disapproving look, “Pretty bird, you should have let me help you with the bags,” as he kisses you and takes the offending bags from your hands.

“I thought the point of you giving me a key was so I wouldn’t have to buzz you all the time to be let in,” you say, as you follow behind him to the kitchen. You pat the heads of the Mandos sitting in a row on the couch as you pass behind: Mayfeld, Woves, Jimmy, Paz. Duck, duck, duck, goose.

Din starts unloading the dips and sandwiches from the bags, “I gave you a key because I wanted you to know that I like having you around all the time, that you can make my place, your place.”

His back is turned to you, but you can tell he’s sighing, resigned. It’s always been hard for you to let other people do things for you and it’s been no exception with Din. Din’s love language is acts of service, and sometimes when you don’t let him take care of things for you, whether because you’re used to doing them yourself or you don’t want to burden him, it feels like you’re not letting him love you. He knows that’s not the case, it just feels that way sometimes.

You snake your arms around Din’s middle and lay you cheek against his back, listening to the gentle rhythm of his breathing, “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve done it all on my own for a long time. It’ll just take me a beat to feel safe relying on someone else.”

“Safe?” Din turns to wrap you up in his arms; that wasn’t the word he was expecting you to use.

Pressing your cheek deep into his chest, you murmur, “What if I get used to you doing things for me… then one day, you’re gone? Then where will I be? Or what if you get annoyed at doing things for me that you know I could just do myself? And…”

“… and leave?”

You shrug; it sounds kind of silly when he says it like that.

Din’s hand comes to gently pinch your chin and tilt your head back so he can look in your eyes, “Pretty girl, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. And if it were up to me, you’d never lift a finger for anything but I know that’s not what you want. Just want to do things for you that make your life easier. Better, okay? I just want to make your life better.”

Tears well along your lower lash line, your chest swelling with emotion. Of course, he does. Din is so caring and respectful of your boundaries, never pushing you to give more of yourself than you’re ready. If anyone is worth the effort of stepping out of your comfort zone, it’s him.

“You do! You do make it better,” you nod and press your lips gently to his, “Okay, I’ll let you carry things for me.” Din smiles, the both of you knowing that your meaning is both literal and figurative. “But, please be patient with me? I’m out of practice.”

“I have all the time in the world for you, pretty bird,” Din cradles your head in his hand and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss. Never parting from your lips, he presses his plush mouth to yours over and over, each touch a self contained promise.

“When you guys are done making out, do you think you can bring out some more wings?” Paz’s voice carries across the apartment.

You giggle and after locating the right takeout box among the many on the counter, tip a generous amount of wings onto a plate. As you go to head back out to the living room, you’re stopped when the hand you have in Din’s is held back. Still leaning against the kitchen counter, Din’s holding your hand but not moving, looking at you with a playful expression. It takes you a second to get his meaning when he looks at you, then looks down at the plate in your hand, then back at you again.

“Omigod,” you roll your eyes as you hold the plate of wings out to him, “Din, can you please carry this for me?”

Din smirks as he takes the plate from you, “See, that wasn’t so hard wasn’t it, baby?”

You stick your tongue out at him as you turn to walk back to the group that’s now loudly cheering some play that’s being replayed in slow mo on the big screen. Din’s long strides catch up to you easily and as he does, he reaches out with his free hand to squeeze your ass, whispering as he passes you, “After the game I’ll reward you for being such a good girl for me.”

Grinning after him, you don’t think you’ve ever been this excited for the live play of a football game to resume.

[thewriterowl]

Luke: Din, Di-i-i-n! I have an idea how to defeat the bad guys--

Din: You're not using yourself as a human sacrifice, Luke. What did we just talk about?

Luke: No, that's not what I was gonna say. I have an idea, that if I just start crying I'll make them so uncomfortable that they'll have to run away or stop what they're doing. And with me crying, I'll be letting a lot off my chest and help regulate my emotions better. So I'm not sacraficing myself, but I also feel like I'm helping and no one gets hurt.

Din: . . . .

Luke: . . .

Din: That's not going to work but I'm so glad Bo Katan forced you into therapy so I'll take this as a win.

Luke: but crying makes people uncomfortable and disappear!

Din: It does...huh?

Luke: Yeah, anytime I cry, the person who did so just sorta vanishes...haven't you noticed?

Din:.....

Paz:....Djarin.

Din: nope, not at all. Haven't noticed. No vanishing that i know of. Haven't had a hand in it either. Nope. Not a clue. Luke, let's go to your very needed therapy session and forget we talked about this, by Vizsla! (yoinks Luke away)

[fanfoolishness]

What's holding Din back?

I sat down to try and write some fic for the new season, but so far, I'm fresh out of ideas for Din... mainly because I'm unclear of what's going on in his head these days.

On the surface, he has everything he could possibly want.

Grogu is back with him! Din was clearly thrilled to have him back in their reunion in TBoBF, and his pride for Grogu shines through in all of their interactions.

He has the Darksaber! It's been liberated from a non-Mandalorian enemy, and is back safely in Mandalorian hands.

With the help of his ally Bo-Katan, he's bathed in the Living Waters of the Mines of Mandalore and been redeemed in the eyes of his people, who have accepted him back with open arms and no further questions on his transgressions. Even better, Bo-Katan has joined his covert as a skilled warrior he respects. The Armorer is treating Grogu as one of their people, and Din is even getting along with Paz Viszla.

So why do things feel off?

Paz Viszla, who has the emotional range of a brick, explains to Din (possibly his least favorite fellow Mandalorian) that the foundling they are seeking to rescue is his son. Bo-Katan calls Din Grogu's Dad in all of their conversations. Grogu is trying his best to learn to talk, and Dad is an extremely reasonable guess for one of his first words.

Din... calls himself Grogu's ward. Not his dad, his guardian, his father. Just ward, an archaic word for protection. Grogu is a foundling. Not his foundling.

Why?

And why does he struggle so badly with the Darksaber? We've only seen him use it a few times; the only time that barely approached competence was when he used it on Tatooine, but even on sacred Mandalore itself, his mind focused on redemption and the history of his people, it would not obey him. The Armorer told him the Darksaber responds to his mind and its distractions. Why would he be distracted then, on his path to achieve his goal to honor his Mandalorian culture? Will we see next week that he's suddenly super proficient with it? It's possible, but I doubt it -- otherwise, why make such a big deal of his incredible skill in other areas contrasted with his clumsiness with the Darksaber? I really hope they're going somewhere interesting with this.

...Just like I wish this meta was going somewhere. But I can't get it there because I genuinely don't know what's wrong with him. Why can't he claim Grogu as his own after everything? Is that why he struggles with the Darksaber, because he's not accepting fatherhood? Why wouldn't he? Fear, memories of trauma... what could it be?

Talk me through it, folks. Reblog with your theories or ideas and help me figure this out!

(Of course, bad or inconsistent writing could certainly be the explanation for all of this, it is Star Wars after all and we all know it ain't that deep. But for the sake of argument, let's pretend that's off the table, haha!)