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joompheart · 4 months

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Theodore! Glad to finally get a whole separate character down as one of these sheets. I've got to do an epilogue alternate for her and then 3-4 more one off sheets. Then I'll have got all my OC's out with definitive visual references!

Way way way too much description below the cut. Actually about twice as much as I did for Andrew because Theodore is probably the second most defined character for me. Plus I wrote a lot about magic but still didn't just write out the explicit rules of the magic system so I explained more than I should've needed to. WHoops.

-Age range: 25-34

-Physical Attributes: In contrast to my other characters who are by and large hyper lean skeleton skin and muscle freaks, Teddy is rounded out and full-bodied. This is pretty much my first go at a reasonable human body, so I think she still looks a tad lean in my drawing compared to how full she should be. Ted is the tallest of my characters at 6'2” or more depending on the heights of other characters I decide on later (specifically Vaughn). She is naturally a little taller than every other main character in the room, or at least a perfect match for the other tallest character (Vaughn). She is also able to at least match the other strongest character in natural (not significantly magically enhanced) physical strength (still Vaughn lol). Despite this, Theodore is not as muscular or bulky as Vaughn. Theodore is supposed to be conventionally sexy, especially when compared to my other characters.(I actually asked my bodybuilder friend to send me instagram fitchicks for references :p). Dark brown hair, but not as dark as Andrew's near black (if not actually black) hair. Basically straight and pretty long, reaching the middle of her back at least. The left side of Teddy's chest is scarred and ruined and she lost her left arm shoulder and all. See “Heart Lock.” Theodore has perfect physical control. See “Personality.” Ted has darker skin, brown to contrast with her blue clothes and magic the same way I pose Vezok with Avak.

-Magic Specialty: Theodore is a prodigious magic user and the most powerful of my characters multiple times over. She is the most knowledgeable on the subject to the degree that she might be the preeminent magic user in the entire galaxy. (The scope of my story is limited to one solar system though, so we don't confirm this or actually care about confirming this). Theodore is able to adapt to any field of magic and quickly preform at very high levels. Theodore is rich with magic fuel (magic can't be done in a vacuum, you have to “pay” for every spell), again multiple times more wealthy than any of my other characters. Her true specialty is in taking advantage of the quirks of the magic system to prepare incredibly powerful spells with multiple potential applications. These spells are so “lavish” that they are prohibitively expensive for any other character and even would be for Ted too if not for her clever spellcrafting.

-Example Spell: Theodore has the closest thing to “true” teleportation – she can cast a spell that demarcates a huge space, say a planet or a space encompassing several planets, into however many 2-3 inch cubes. Then each cube is exchanged for each other cube at incomprehensible speed until the spell is canceled at which point the cubes stop and stay where the ended up. Theodore will cast this spell and stop it at just the right time so that everything is where it started except for the things she wants to move. (I'm definitely going to change up the specifics of this spell so it's less stupid later, but I stand by the idea as cool and a good example of the kind of thing Theodore does). This is obviously impossible to control manually, so Theodore makes and uses magically enhanced machines and artifacts to help with specific parts of spells, such as when to stop casting her teleportation spell so everything is where she wants it to be. Most of Theodore's spells can be understood as follows: An expensive “desired effect” (near instantaneous transport) over an expensive “desired area” (a planet) that is then made deliberately obtuse and unwieldy to reduce the price of these effects from unfathomable to merely very expensive (the whole cubes switching around business), and finally made manageable again with personally hand crafted and ready precision magic tools.

-Heart Lock: Relatively early in Ted's magic exploration she supercharged her heart to amplify any magic to near-perfect efficiency. At this time she wasn't as experienced so she made miscalculations and the process exceeded the safeguards she was using. Her heart now works as desired, but Theodore wears a “heart lock” over it to seal off the excess power (Theodore is pictured wearing said heart lock above). When the lock is removed/ her heart in unsealed she gains access to it's full power but also bears the brunt of that power. Exposure quickly destroys the rest of her body, as seen in how earlier uses completely removed her left arm and have left much of her chest a craggy scarred ruin. Continued exposure would completely destroy Theodore's body in 30-60 minutes, carving canyons into her body with rivers of electric starfire. Theodore isn't really dissatisfied with this situation though, as it would require a truly titanic obstacle to warrant more than 30-60 SECONDS of use. Think of it like a devil trigger you want to stop using as quickly as possible. Nero's disembodied blue hands are right on the money.

-Clothing: Aside from her heart lock, Theodore doesn't wear much. I figure true luxury is not needing to cover yourself for any reason. Theodore doesn't wear armor or footwear of any kind. Theodore does not typically cover her remaining HUGE MILKY BREAST, though she will if she wants. It's even uncommon to find her wearing a super skimpy miniskirt like she is in the above picture, maybe half of the time. Those are because I wanted her to wear at least something because fashion is fun, and I thought it would be silly to have her fight with her gravid boob and flaccid dick flopping around everywhere. Never tucks, never even wears underwear. None of my characters are liable to tuck but Teddy especially never tucks.

-Partial Biography: Left largely unknown the the audience. The heart lock/ arm loss debacle is about as much as we'd get for insight on her character before the events of the story. I figure Theodore doesn't need a special explanation for her presence or power. She's been around more than most of the other characters and she's good at whatever she does. She built a semi-secret estate inside a planet in the solar system with an ocean comprising roughly half it's mass. Inverted gravity on the estate so when you enter you walk on the underside of the crust and look “up” to see a massive glass-like dome bracing the rest of the earth and water. With enough visibility you could theoretically see out to the other side of the planet through the water. Theodore's goal for the duration of the story is to explore “the next frontier” of magical understanding and study the source of magic in the galaxy. She ultimately succeeds in the finale of the story, and we see some of her continued adventures in the epilogue.

-Personality: Teddy is suicidal. With her power she could extend her life indefinitely, but she would end even her natural lifespan prematurely. Theodore is aware of her exceptional prowess and wants to use it for something that's “worth it,” in this case studying the source of magic in the galaxy, before she can't stop from killing herself. Otherwise, she's very put together. Theodore has supreme mental fortitude, focus and stability. By extension, Ted has perfect physical control, as in perfect balance, perfect form with any motion, optimal muscle activation, can sleep or wake up on a dime, etc. etc. The example I always think of is a spell she might use in a fight that inverts all neural impulses in a certain field – so if you tried to lift your leg you would actually extend it, etc. etc. In that scenario where it would be almost impossible to keep yourself from immediately crumpling on the floor, Theodore will move as confidently and gracefully as she would in any other setting. Though that would also be because she would have practiced moving like that at least a little on her own time because she would know that she might use that spell. In benign human interaction, Theodore is most similar to Penelope, or maybe it would be better to put it as Penelope is most similar to Theodore. They are aligned in worldview and goals and even even personal tastes for most of the story, Penelope working for Theodore similar to how Darth Vader works for Darth Sideous. But Penelope doesn't hate Ted, and the two could be considered friends for a significant part of the story. Like Penelope, probably even more so actually, Theodore can be cold and completely ruthless. Both of them are liable to acknowledge other people's qualms or objections and then without hesitation commit a morally irredeemable act anyway. These tendencies and their power make them the “villains” of most of the story.

-Associated NiN songs: “The Big Come Down,” “Disappointed,” “Black Noise,” “A Warm Place”

#my art #nausea #character sheets

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everythingstarwarsdd · 1 year

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A KotOR 3 Theory

Some foundational pieces…

In KotOR 2 (if the stars align)… Carth tells the Exile that Revan left after KotOR 1… that she said [A] there was a path she needed to walk alone, [B] it was one she would never take anyone she loved on, and [C] asked him to stay behind, tasked him with keeping the Republic strong, which was important to her.

The way she spoke left him waiting for her return, whether it was her intention or not, and this implies some things about her demeanor and hopes at the time too.

(For the record… this scene he describes has lived rent free in my head for nigh on two decades, so thanks for that BioWare…)

With Carth’s help, you also realize that your ship, the Ebon Hawk (beloved), is the same one Revan left with. You found it discarded on Malachor V, which is ominous at best.

Three possible implications follow…

1. Revan died on Malachor V.

Darth Traya and her apprentices are suspect here, but the way Kreia talks about Revan leads me to believe this is not the case.

2. Revan is alive somewhere on the surface of Malachor V.

The Exile and their companions find no evidence of Revan’s presence though, and Traya makes no comment supporting this theory. It’s possible, but unlikely due to the length of time she would have needed to survive with no resources, and especially in light of the planet’s nature, which is worse than a barren wasteland. Its a wound in the force, a siphon on life itself.

3. Revan abandoned the Ebon Hawk on Malachor V as part of her journey.

I find this the most likely scenario. It raises other significant questions, like where Revan went, and how she was able to reach the next step of her journey, but doesn’t contradict anything in canon. It actually echoes canon events of the past.

Theory 3 aligns with Revan’s history.

It’s worth noting that Revan is canonically a compassionate, altruistic, feeling character, as evidenced by her refusal to let the outer rim worlds fall, and even among her enemies, she is characterized as charismatic, decisive, intelligent, and above all, a brilliant strategist.

The thing about Revan is that she was always willing to make the hard call.

More than that, she was willing to carry the cost.

If the Mandalorian Wars changed Revan, it was only in amplifying this quality. She was still a defender of the people. A hero of the Republic.

This doesn’t change when Revan and Malak retreat into dark space at the end of the war. They may be battered and ragtag, but their fundamental characters are ultimately unchanged.

And this is where we tread into headcanon & theory…

To me, this circular narrative where Revan disappears again indicates that she suddenly remembered something from her past — something she and Malak discovered out there that was important enough to drop everything for and cut all ties, even with the people she loved most.

Something more than the Star Forge 😳

Because what was the Star Forge?

Only a tool.

A tool for building an army.

Revan, always more attuned than Malak, would recognize it for what it was.

The Star Forge doesn’t corrupt on sight… Revan wasn’t ruined the moment she came in contact... It takes time. It takes focus. It takes alignment to its core purpose, which is innately of the dark side.

Altruistic Revan would need a REASON to use it.

A reason to risk that.

And nothing is more ominous than considering what made cost-counting Revan willing to risk a fall… willing to risk becoming the very thing she’d sacrificed everything to destroy, undoing all the work of the Mandalorian Wars, to earn that army.

What did Revan FIND in dark space that drove her to the Star forge?

Because the real tragedy of Revan’s fall is that she failed her mysterious task, and instead of defending the galaxy from this ominous threat, she became just another tool in its destruction.

This time, there would be no Star Forge.

There would be no natural armies.

There would be no companions.

This time she would go alone.

And if there was cost to carry, she would carry it alone.

So she left it all behind, pitting all the quiet of a single person and all the cunning of the galaxy’s greatest strategist against it.

But if she failed, she’d charged Carth with one last task, an impossible one… with bringing life back to the Republic which still staggered and threatened to fall, broken by her own hand.

The galaxy's last line of defense should she fail.

If this is beginning to feel familiar... it should.

An unnamed, unknown threat hiding somewhere out there in dark space too powerful for an entire galaxy to withstand?

And one person attempting to stand alone against it?

They done wrote themselves straight out of Star Wars.... 🙈

Three years later…

...

.........

.....................

#if someone can refute this genuinely please do #I’m curious for other perspectives #Star Wars #Revan #darth Revan #KotOR #KotOR 2 #KotOR 3 #yes I’m still feeling cheated by this 20 years later #thanks for asking 😂#ainulindaelynn

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rebelwriter99 · 1 year

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Force help us all.

And here goes nothing. This one will need a TLDR.

Well Crosshair appeared. And I did cry. A lot. So that stayed true the whole season. Yaaaay. *Sobs quietly* My poor assistance dog has been so confused about why I keep crying today, he’s been very worried bless him and keeps climbing on me and licking my face. I love him very much and felt he deserved a sentence for his kindly helping paw.

I will be treating the finale as a single episode because anyone who didn’t go immediately from episode 15 into 16 you are lying.

So. Deep Breaths. Tech.

I will be assuming he is gone. I have read a lot of convincing arguments that he is not-but I will leave those to others. I will be writing as though he has died in the permanent sense.

I knew someone was going to die. It’s season 2 and Filoni is writing it. Hunter played Kanan and got captured and then they all escaped in S1. Big goal in mind in S2 (defeat Inquisitors vs Reunite Batch), someone is going to end up in dire straits to save the others. I thought it might be Cross, more likely Cody. And then it was Tech. I did not see any of that plot line coming. Saw Garrera and a plot inconvenient explosion were the smallest surprise. I was expecting them to make it to Mount Tantiss. Apparently not yet.

But the way Tech died is important to me. It sounds silly when I write it, but I’m autistic (and so is Tech I will die on that particular hill) and most autistic characters in stories of this genre (fantasy or sci-fi) get infantilised. They then tend to get killed in front of the proper heroes by the villain to show that the villain is evil. They’ll look rather sweet and innocent and meek and say something haunting and that’ll be that. If they do something brave it’s always played off that they don’t fully understand how dangerous what they’re doing is, or how heroic they really are. Not Tech. Tech fully understands what he’s risking. He knew the second he climbed out of that cable car he might not make it back. He nearly fell at least twice before he chose to fall. Not one moment in the whole show do we ever doubt that Tech is an adult, who is fully capable of understanding risk (and often advises caution) even if he computes it a bit differently, and mature enough to know completely what that sacrifice means. He, as an autistic character, demonstrated what it was to him to adjust to not having someone around, to having to cope with change. His knows this will hurt his family-but he has to do everything he can to save them. He, as an autistic character, got something akin to a romantic subplot-which you never really see. The way Tech is-it’s never painted as being ‘in the way’ of anything. He’s different-and that just is. Everyone completely accepts that about him. And until I looked back I didn’t realise quite how rare and refreshing it was to see that-because it’s written so well. And wether we get any more of Tech or not-I will always be grateful for what we did get to see of him. His character will always be special to me for what he represents-that people like me can exist in Star Wars, and in the galaxy far far away-we are simply ourselves and nobody really bats an eye.

And most importantly-it was his choice. You could write that scene nearly identically and have it just be an accident-but it was his choice. Clones don’t get many of those in life. And Tech, over the course of two seasons, has increasingly been learning to make his own. He’s stopped quite noticeably looking to Hunter for a nod before he does things. For a Clone, death is an occupational hazard. They view sacrifice through the lens of the war dominated life they lead and to them laying down your life to save your squad-I think that’s what many of them would choose if they had to. And the rest of the batch would definitely have died without Tech’s choice. Perhaps even, indirectly, Crosshair, who may have been tortured until he lost his life before the Empire found Omega. Tech’s last words I also thought were a lovely parallel to ‘good soldiers follow orders’. Tech chose defiance to save his family-he’s undeniably one of the best soldiers of the republic and yet ‘since when do we follow orders?’. Again-the emphasis on choice. It makes it feel like the end of the ‘Order 66 Era’ to me. We’ve gone from Clones forced en mass to kill those they loved and protected, to one Clone freely deciding to die to save the family they love and would do anything to protect. From the first moments the Republic became the Empire, right the way through to Stormtroopers almost completely replacing clones, and the first sign of major projects of the Empire starting to take shape. What happens next feels less like it’s going to be dictated by the galaxy-though the Empire will certainly be more oppressive than ever, what happens next is up to them now.

And Speaking of the Empire-the villain I now hate more than I ever hated Umbridge and Mrs Coulter as a child combined (which is saying something). Dr Hemlock.

He needs to die. In a way that Thrawn really didn’t-uncharted space was fine, he just needed a comeuppance. However, this particular foul being needs to cease to exist.

He is also the perfect villain. An incredibly creepy, secretive genetics researcher who doesn’t see his ‘test subjects’ as fully human is the villain in a story about Clones who are thinly veiled disability representation, currently exploring their own individual humanity, and were introduced to show the power of difference? Hell yes someone thought that through. And then said-hmmm yes Dr deadly poison. Then everyone will definitely know he’s an evil scientist! (It’s not like it wasn’t obvious as soon as he’d talked for longer than 5mins!). I await being immensely satisfied when everything he’s ever worked for burns to a crisp. Along with him.

For forces sake when he threw Tech’s goggles at Hunter’s feet. I was screaming. Hunter’s face. And when he puts down his blaster to pick them up. Hunter has chosen his squad. He’s not a soldier anymore, not really, he’s going to do whatever he has to do to get his family safe and keep them that way. I expect he’s going to go from being a bit more ‘go with the flow’ this season, to rather more ‘completely feral’ next season. And he will have Wrecker with him-who looks like he’s got some complex emotional development of his own to do. Gods it’s heartbreaking watching anyone grieve but poor Wrecker-I think he’ll blame himself. While oddly Hunter will be doing the same thing. Echo is going to have to be sensible I think-nobody else is going to be.

I am so excited for season 3. Really hoping we don’t have to wait a similar what felt like an age as last time. I love these characters. I’m yet to watch anything Filoni has written that didn’t have an immensely satisfying (if bittersweet) ending that made all the heartbreak worth it so I hope that’s where we’re going. Until then.

Vode An. Always. 🌟

TLDR: Force that hurt. Tech will always be an immensely important part of why I love Star Wars and The Bad Batch so much for so many reasons. Next season is going to be crazy. And if the Star Wars of equivalent of a creepy ableist medical researcher working for an authoritarian government imprisoning everyone doesn’t die horribly and have all his work destroyed I may riot.

#star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #well that was a long ramble but I think the grief is processed now at least #if anyone wants me to write any more please do just ask #otherwise I’ll assume that’s far too long as it is!

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iceunhie · 30 days

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voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

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nahastoyou · 2 years

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Scott pilgrim vs the world the game .ogg files

She needed something to do ever since her transition from Dark Magical Girl. One time she's working as a waitress, the next she's helping out the nurse on Measuring Day. In Rosario + Vampire Capu2, Ruby continues to change what job she's working at the school frequently.Ayane's Stealth Mentor in Ayanes High Kick is working a different job every time he's seen, because he's honestly kind of a loser.They tended to be Faceless Goons in later seasons. Galaxy Angel featured Patrick, Jonathan, and Gasteau, who had a different job each time they appeared in an episode, from imperial officers to doctors (though they were more often than not villains).A minor character in Suzuka has as many different jobs as she has appearances.She never actually changes job titles, but the waitress from Black Cat works at four or five different restaurants over the course of the series.Speaking of Kobato., Fujimoto is another main character who keeps changing jobs-however, he does this to earn as much money as he can to support Sayaka.as well as across universes, showing up several times in Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle at various jobs. He even works in jobs across series-showing up in cameo jobs in Kobato.Another reason is implied: he changes jobs to look after her.Sakura herself comments that her brother holds a LOT of part time jobs, because Touya wants to make and save as much money possible, so he could go to college without being a burden for his father.In a variation, though, he's the main character's brother and unknown Secret Keeper, as opposed to just being a background joke character with no importance to the plot. Touya in Cardcaptor Sakura, and as is typical of the trope, it isn't clear if he keeps changing jobs or if he is just holding down a phenomenal number of part time jobs all at the same time.Still, just like Scott himself, the game makes up for this with whimsical creativity, offbeat humour, and absurd storytelling. Today, Scott Pilgrim vs The World feels somewhat let down by its insistence on grinding, even if teamwork lightens the load, and the action is never too deep. Just remember to duck when Knives picks up a bicycle. Like playing the guitar, it’s a repetitive action, but it’s all about the way you repeat it. Even though it’s essentially the same thing over and over, there's enough variety that it never gets old. You unlock more moves as you level up, but for the most part you'll be finding randomly discarded items, picking them up, and hitting your foes with them. Since you can revive your partner at zero health without costing them a life, there's a popular tactic for Knives and Ramona where, if either is ever on single digit health, the other picks them up and hurls them at enemies, clearing a path for easy revival while also dealing serious damage to everyone else. Literally everything is a weapon, from a basketball to a mic stand to your own teammate. The bosses-apart from Lee himself, ironically-swing for the fences too, adding in tons of visual effects and special abilities to make them feel like so much more than just a tough punch sponge, but instead a clearly defined old school videogame boss.Ĭonsidering the levels are essentially straight lines, there’s a brilliant amount of creativity in these too. Level 2, on Lucas Lee's film set, features men in Godzilla costumes, aliens in flying saucers, and Indiana Jones-style closing walls to escape from. While the first level just brings some generic Toronto dudes as bad guys, as the game goes on the enemies increase in range. This creativity is ever present throughout the game. The same goes for the soundtrack, which sticks to the simplicity of the videogame cartridge era, but has such an infectious rhythm it'll stay in your head all day. Still, the colours are wonderful, and the art is bursting with creativity in every department. As far as graphics go, it's a remaster of a ten-year-old game that even in 2010 embraced a retro aesthetic, so don't expect anything technically ground breaking or eye popping. While gameplay has issues, both solo and multiplayer, everything else is a treat.

#Scott pilgrim vs the world the game .ogg files

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new-anon · 4 years

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sappy old men in a perpetual honeymoon phase

#codywan #commander cody #cc 2224 #obi wan kenobi #SWR spoilers #kinda ???#SWR spoilers from here on:#I was losing my MIND seeing the clones again in this show #a bittersweet reunion tho bc it seems like there’s so little of them that survived 66.... and they’re so old...#they really aged from hunks to bears 😭😭#I must admit I’ve had codywan on the brain lately #made me think about how our poor commander could have been during this era #even though everything in the galaxy has changed there are 2 things that stay the same:#tatooine is a dump and the general smells the same as he always has..#I have so many (codywan) thoughts and not enough time to process any of it!!!

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hyunverse · 3 years

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—confession & constellation; inumaki toge.

genre; fluff.

in which inumaki toge says reader's name for the first time.

the sky looks better on friday nights — that's what you and inumaki had agreed on before. maybe it's because the coming weekend makes you feel more at ease or maybe it's just the universe siding on you; who knows? you don't really care— all you care about is being by inumaki toge's side.

at 2 am you'd sneak out of your dorms and go to the roof, it's a friday night routine now. he'll bring some snacks and you'll bring the drinks. inumaki never fails to bring himself an onigiri and your favourite snacks. that's just how good of a boyfriend he is. he's caring and he remembers small little things about you, some things you even forgot.

on the roof he'll keep you warm in his arms, making sure the cold night doesn't bother you even by the slightest bit. you love it when he wraps you in his favourite jacket because it smells so much like him; the blue jacket smells like vanilla and mint.

while stargazing inumaki would point at bright stars, smiling immediately after. he intertwines your hand with his and rubs small circles with his thumb in a soothing manner, as though he wants to lull you to sleep.

and on days when the sky doesn't shine bright you'd stay in his dorm room instead. the boy has a galaxy projector, one that shines bright enough to illuminate his whole entire room. for a teenage boy his room is pretty neat. despite the lump of laundry laying at the corner of the room and the miniscule objects scattered on his desk, his room brings you a sense of familiarity and comfort. you love it.

you lay on the bed with inumaki, legs dangling off the bed frame. you stare up at the ceiling, watching as the projected stars move in a hypnotizing way. the lights change colors so you and inumaki would try to guess which color comes next. he lays on his side after a while, watching you as you look up.

they're pretty, he thinks. he likes everything about you; from the color of your hair to the small sigh you'd sound out of happiness. after a while you look back at him, a small grin on your face. his eyes are violet colored and his eyelashes compliment them perfectly. inumaki's eyes tell you what he's currently thinking, they more than make up to his lack of speech. for a moment you'd swear you could see the same stars in the sky in his eyes.

"y/n", he whispered to you one day. you froze in your position, he had never said your name before— heck, he had never said anybody's name before. you're the first.

and you adore it. you adore the way your name rolled off his tongue, you wished you had recorded it. you could see his terror by the way his lips quivered and the tears escaping his eyes. he was worried. he was worried you'd suddenly disappear, he was worried he'd accidentally curse you. toge couldn't risk losing the person he loves the most but when you stared into his eyes with the biggest smile he had ever seen on you; his doubts were swept away, replaced by an indescribable joy.

inumaki toge signed you an "i love you" with his hand. you burst out crying right at that moment and clutched him tightly. you were quick to put your lips on his, eliciting small hums from his mouth.

as his lips lingered on yours and his hums filled your ears like white noise, the world slowed down, as though to give you more time to spend. perhaps the universe is on your side after all.

#inumaki #inumaki x reader #inumaki fluff #inumaki headcanons #inumaki hcs #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #inumaki to/ge

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peachypascal · 3 years

Text

work for it

summary: tensions are running high between you and mando, and after a long day, he loses his patience with you.

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m+f receiving), choking, condescension, possession i guess?, very lowkey dom/sub vibes, one (1) spank, spoilers for season 2, unedited

word count: 5.3k

you can barely even look at him anymore.

if you could get to his face, if he wasn’t such a skillful fighter, you reckon you might have hit him already, but instead, you’re forced to push all your irritation under the surface. it’s already such a tense environment; there’s no point in making it worse.

he’s been fighting with everyone since the moment you had landed. he’s unhappy. it’s understandable, given what he’s lost recently, but you had lost, too. you had lost the child, and you had lost a piece of yourself. you hurt, too, but he won’t allow you your moment to grieve. for the first time since the two of you met, your mandalorian expects you to stand up. you are meant to be the strong one this time. before he had begun taking his upset out on you, that had been fine. you had been okay with that.

din has lost more than you have. you lost grogu and you lost the ship, but he had lost his child, his home, his creed. din had lost his way. you ache for him, really. it’s unfair that such a good man should live a life so wrought with tragedy and tribulation.

it doesn’t stop you from bristling at the way he talks to you, like you can’t take care of yourself anymore. the two of you had always worked so well together before now. now, he’s pent-up. he’s angry. about his losses, about his mere proximity to bo-katan, who seems to have her mind set on defeating him every step of the way, about the fact that he can’t find a moment alone, not with you staying in the same room he’s in, one hardly big enough to hold the two cots you’ve been sleeping in.

he thought getting off the ship was what he needed. solid ground and natural light and someplace where looking out the windows doesn’t make his head spin, but now he’s even closer to you than before. lately, something that was once so comforting now only reminds him of one more thing he’s bound to lose. against all great odds, he had managed to survive his losses. you, he’s not so sure he could handle losing. you’re the last thing keeping him hanging on, the single thread keeping him where he needs to be, and without you, he’s gone.

after the days that you have been living, all you want is a nice, luxurious bed to fall into after your perpetually long days, but you and mando are barely able to scrounge enough extra credits together for the dingy little box they call a room. you would call it a scam, but after traveling with mando for so long, you’ve grown used to the seedier parts of the galaxy, and you’ll only be here a few days while everyone regroups. it’s a much-needed break from the only person you want to punch more than din and even with your mounting annoyance, it feels nice to listen to the chatter of a city while you sit in your room, watching them from above.

behind you, the door opens. you don’t bother turning around—you fear that seeing him might set you off and vice versa. a deep breath holds still in your chest, waiting, wondering if he’s going to say something to you. right as you begin to let your guard down, your shoulders dropping, he breaks the silence.

“we’re leaving tomorrow.”

they’re the first words in days that he has spoken without malice behind them, but the sound of his filtered voice still grates on your nerves. the two of you have been living in a powder keg, your explosion inevitable, but you had hoped it would stay intact until you left this planet. with the irritation that burns you now, you’re unsure you��ll make it through the night. it fills you with a great sense of dread. no, you aren’t sure you can stand another moment sleeping three feet away from him, but you hate even more the idea of the two of you not even speaking.

you don’t hear him move, still by the door, still in his armor. with a quiet sigh, you glance back at him only to give him confirmation that you’ve heard him. even through the modulator, you hear his disgruntled huff. he begins removing his armor, shaking his head at you. you purse your lips at the sight of him. before grogu was taken from you, it felt as though you two were finally getting somewhere. you had been traveling with them long enough to feel as though you were a part of a small family. you had finally managed to break down din’s walls, to almost get close enough to touch. all your travels had led up to this, all the nervous glances and tentative touches, and now, you can barely look at him. you want to reach out for him, but even in the tiny room, he feels too far.

finally, you sigh. “great.”

din stacks his armor noisily beside his bed, hiding his blaster under his pillow and kicking his boots off. he’s being loud. after so many nights of hearing him take off that armor in the crest, you knew he was always careful not to let it clang the way it does now. if you could see his eyes, you would see the light that flickers in them, just waiting for an excuse to start a fire.

“what did you do today?” you ask quietly, skin burning with the tension and your need to diffuse it.

he sighs, shaking his helmet minutely. “nothing.”

a crinkle forms between your brows. “nothing? you’ve been gone all day doing nothing?”

his shoulders square in irritation and the sight nearly sets you off. “does it matter?” he scoffs, settling his hands on his hips.

your jaw sets and you turn to face him. “no, i suppose not.”

the air is thick between you and a heavy shiver runs down your spine, desperate to get away from him. you stand, in need of a moment of fresh air, but din grabs your bicep before you can pass him, the stoic flat of his helmet tilting to look at you. “where are you going?”

your mandalorian is a man of pride. he would never admit it, especially not after he had sacrificed that pride so much in the time that you had known him, but it was true. that pride means that asking the very question makes him cringe beneath his helmet. perhaps it’s your anger with him, or your inability to keep your mouth shut, but in a quick moment of spite, you sneer back at him. “does it matter?”

before you even have a chance to change your facial expression, one gloved hand wraps firmly around your throat, forcing your gaze up to meet his. you choke, not because he’s holding you too tightly but because of your surprise, eyes wide as you look up at him. “watch it.”

you stare at his visor, hardening your expression. your shock wears off quickly. instead, you find it much easier to concentrate on the fury that has been building for days. “or what?” you spit. “i’m not fighting with you, din.”

the use of his name catches him off-guard. he had only heard it fall from your lips in the most intimate of moments, quiet, long conversations in the cockpit when the child was asleep. then, it had calmed him. it soothed his soul to know that you knew him. now, it fuels the fire already burning in him; it only feeds the need settled low in his gut at the sight of you. it sets him off.

he takes two, long strides and takes you with him, backing you against the wall with his hand tightening around your throat, ignoring your confused squeak. “you don’t talk to me like that,” he cuts out, voice low and tight, and you laugh mirthlessly, still impassioned enough to fight him even with his hand around your throat.

“and you don’t treat me like dirt. deal?”

the two of you stand in a long silence, your nose an inch away from his visor; you wonder if mando will say anything, defend himself, but he seems as though he doesn’t even hear your words. he takes in a slow, deep breath before his fingers tighten around your throat, and you can’t help your quiet moan, eyes fluttering closed. his mouth goes dry at the sound, legs weak at the sound he’s been imagined every single night. even with anger still pounding through you, you can’t deny that you like the position. after traveling with him for so long, always at arm's length, this is all you think about anymore. him, touching you, holding you so close like he does now.

you shudder under his hand and blood rushes in his ears, seemingly amplified under his helmet. his breathing is heavy, pondering his next move cautiously before he finally says, “turn around.” you’re so headstrong, you have been since he’s known you. you don’t take his commandments without question or pushback, which is why he expects you to spit a curse back in his face. you don’t.

instead, for the first time ever, you obey without question.

din feels like the breath he takes is gasping, his mouth open like a fish as his hand falls down to his side, eyes tracking down the arch of your spine. it’s as though you’re presenting yourself to him, the subtle look over your shoulder telling him all the words he wants to hear. take me. i’m ready. the wait is over.

“mando,” you whisper hoarsely, pressing your warm forehead against the wall. “please.”

he’s unsure exactly where to start. after a thousand fantasies, they all seem to blur together until he wants everything, no way to figure out what he wants the most. as he pulls off his gloves, he takes a moment to deliberate, admiring the sight of you waiting for him. all those fantasies and din can only decide on one thing: he’ll take as much as he can.

his bare hand glides over your hip, his touch relaxing your tight muscles as his arm wraps around you, palm pressing to your stomach and his chest pressing to your back. “you’re okay?” he asks, voice tight with barely-restrained need.

your answer is breathy and needy. “yes,” you sigh. “please.”

din tightens his arm around your ribcage with an impatient grunt, his other hand already reaching into the waistband of your sleep pants. your skin is warm under his palm and not for the first time, he’s cursing the helmet on his head. he wants to be closer to you, to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in until you’re all he knows, and just as he begins to toy with the band of your underwear, he pulls away.

you give a frustrated groan, leaning back into him, but it’s fruitless. he’s already crossing the room, bare hands drawing the curtains and turning off the lights. “mando.” it shocks you to hear how your voice sounds, whiny and small while you turn back to him. “what—did i do something?”

“no,” he answers shortly.

there’s a moment where all you hear is the pounding of your own heart and the faraway chatter of the crowd on the street below you before he returns to you. you breathe out gently in relief when his large hands grip your hips tightly again, squeezing once before one travels up and the other goes down. your eyes flutter closed, reaching to grasp at his wrist when he cups your breast.

and then he leans down and presses his lips to the shell of your ear. you jump in surprise at the feeling, at the idea that he would take his helmet off in such a vulnerable position, and your eyes fly open. “mando!”

din shushes you. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, fingers slipping into your pants once again until he’s cupping your pussy, an unfiltered moan vibrating against your neck. “maker, you’re already soaked.” your hips jolt into his hand, desperately searching for any sort of friction. his teeth sink into your earlobe. “needy,” he growls. “always so needy.”

a quick retort is already on your tongue, but his nose nuzzles against your temple and two of his fingers find your clit, lips stretching into a small smile when he hears your soft moan. your head falls back onto his shoulder, sinking into the pleasure he’s building within you. he’s always worked so well with his hands but you have a newfound appreciation for the dexterity of them as he rubs deep, slow circles into you.

din buries his face in your neck, tongue laving over your pulsepoint and teeth biting at your collarbone, savoring the way you take over all of his senses. he grinds against your ass, the thick duraweave of his pants grating against your threadbare sleep pants. “feel that?” he murmurs, just below your ear, and you moan, grinding down against his fingers. you certainly do. it shocks you, at first, just how hard he is, how big he is. he’s always been so broad, so big in every other sense that it shouldn’t surprise you, but you find yourself daunted by the thought of him already.

“fuck, mando,” you whine, unable to decide where you want to be more, grinding down against his fingers or back against his cock, and you let out a frustrated groan.

“what’s wrong?” he coos mockingly, hand sliding from your breast to your throat. “you want more?”

“i want to come,” you beg.

“you want to come?” his grip around your throat tightens. “work for it.”

your knees almost buckle, a loud moan falling from your lips, one that makes din’s cock twitch. you press back against him, grinding shamelessly against your mandalorian with your brow furrowed in pleasure. his fingers work faster against your clit, the arm across your chest keeping you tight against his, and his low moan rumbles against your back.

it’s just out of reach, right at your fingertips; you need just a little bit more. you reach back for him, your fingers tangling in his hair. “din,” you gasp, voice choked. “i’m so close.”

he hums against your hairline, long fingers slipping further into your underwear to circle your entrance just once before he’s sinking one in, enjoying the bliss that washes over his body when you lean back against his chest. “stars, y/n, you feel so good,” he breathes, his eyes falling closed when he adds another finger.

your jaw clenches in preparation for your orgasm, already burning you up when din presses right against your sensitive wall. with a tug of his hair, your stomach tightens, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard in his life falling from your lips. din curls his fingers, breathing heavily when you clench tight around them. it takes over you without warning, your strangled cry of his name forcing his own rough groan against your hair. your thighs shake around his hand as you come, pulling on his hair until he’s hissing.

it’s the first time you’ve come in weeks and by the time din stops pressing against your g-spot, there are tears running down your cheeks. your hips jerk away from him fruitlessly, desperate to get away from the stimulation. din can’t help his soft smile, guiding you to your bed as well as he can in the dark. “c’mon, you need to rest.”

“no,” you insist, eyes wide and searching for him in the black. “no. sit down.” the thought of you on your knees for him, between his legs, it nearly makes him sweat, so he searches for your hand, entwining your fingers. “please.”

you trap your lip between your teeth as you sink down to your knees, listening to your mandalorian remove his clothing before he sits on your cot. your palms find his knees, brushing over the hair scattered over his skin, grinning at the sound of his exhale. you hum, running your hands up and down his thighs, over his hips, appreciating the feeling of his skin against yours until you wrap your fingers around his cock, stomach flipping at his quiet moan of your name.

all you want is for him to feel good, to feel a fraction as blissful as he made you feel, and it’s hard to pace yourself, so you lean forward and take him in your mouth, your lips closing around his head and your eyes fluttering closed. it’s a scene you’ve imagined a thousand times over, but none of your daydreams compare to the real thing. he’s so vocal, his loud moans and quiet murmurings filling the room, and he’s intoxicating you, his scent and taste and the feel of him under you, it already has you ready for him again. you moan around him, tightening your grip slightly, and his hips stutter.

“fuck,” he hisses, grasping the blanket beneath him. your eyes open, desperate to see him, but the way this man, this warrior, whines when you flick your tongue a certain way, you think that’s just as good as seeing his face.

din’s hips jolt at a particularly strong suck at his head. you hum at the taste of him on your tongue, distinct and so uniquely him, taking him deeper to taste more of him. when he hits your throat, your gag makes him cry out, voice thin from the pleasure, and in an attempt to calm himself down, he pulls you off of him, panting loudly. it had been far too long, not just since relief but since he had started fantasizing about this very position, and it’s not unlikely that if you continue, this will be over far too fast for his liking.

wordlessly, he pulls you off the floor and into his lap. strong arms wrap around your waist, and you gasp when he grabs the nape of your neck, guiding you into a kiss. it’s sloppy, a little unpracticed, but you’ve never felt so worked up. you wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly rolling your hips against his. “more,” you insist, grinning against his lips at his silent chuckle.

“what did i say?” his grip on the back of your neck tightens and his voice drops, suddenly serious. “needy.”

without answering, you reach between the two of you, fingers wrapping around his cock again before you drag it through your folds, pleased with the impatient grunt that falls from his lips. his fingertips dig into your waist and his teeth dig into your lip, trying to will you into giving him what he wants and you’re in no position to deny him this; you’re just as worked up as he is. with another long kiss, you sink down slowly, pressing your forehead to din’s. the room echoes with the relieved breaths that fall from both of you, with the increasingly passionate kisses the two of you share as you begin to adjust to his size, and with the lewd sounds of him filling you. he’s panting, holding you close in an effort to not drag you down on his cock. you’re barely halfway and already whining against his lips, and maker, he’s going to leave bruises to show his restraint, a sweat springing at his hairline every time you take him just a little deeper.

finally, with a high, quiet moan, you sink fully down on him, settling on his thighs for a moment of rest, adjusting to the way he stretches you. “din,” you breathe, tugging on his hair. you clench around him, your heart leaping when you feel him shudder. “you feel so good.”

“you’re so tight,” he huffs, thrusting up into you gently. “sweet little thing. i’ve been waiting for this.”

the admission makes you whimper. you kiss him hard, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get him just a little deeper and din’s head falls back, taking in a shaky breath before he’s thrusting into your again. leaning forward, you nip at his jaw. only he will see the marks you leave on him, but you’re unsure what happens when the two of you are done. you don’t know if it will ever happen again. you’re determined to leave your mark on him. you want him to remember this night when he looks in the mirror tomorrow, and the day after, and as long as your marks last. it sets a new fire under you, holding desperately to him while he fucks you, your teeth littering marks on his neck.

“mando,” you whine, sensitive clit rubbing over his pelvis. you want to say more. you want to tell him exactly how he’s making you feel, dizzy and hot and intoxicated by him, but you can’t exactly find the words. instead, you hang onto him like you’re going to lose him. he has you stuffed full and near tears with how deep he’s fucking you and for the first time, you have him. all of him. you feel him all over, breathing his scent in, finally pure and strong without the obstruction of his armor between the two of you. it’s a scent you never want to get rid of.

the way you squeeze him nearly has him coming, hands shaking even when pressed against your skin. he wants to pull you off him—needs to pull you off him—but you feel too good. his eyes roll back, jaw tight when you circle your hips just right, and with no warning, the same way he had pulled you on his lap, he rolls you off onto your cot.

“no, no, no,” you cry, reaching out for him. your fingertips barely brush his bare skin, and he shushes you quietly, grabbing your ankles as though he can see you perfectly well.

“you’re okay, mesh’la,” he says softly, pressing a sweet kiss to one of your calves. “i’m going to take care of you.”

din sinks to his knees, pressing his cheek to the inside of your knee, and you take in a sharp breath, his facial hair scratching pleasantly at the sensitive skin. “din,” you breathe, sitting up on your elbows. he only hums, soft lips pressing a line of sweet kisses up your inner thighs.

oh, he had been waiting for this. all of it, really, but this is his favorite daydream. his mind had worked up the most elaborate fantasies about what you would sound like, feel like, taste like, and his heart pounds at the idea of finally finding out. he’s not in the mood to tease you, not anymore, and his eyes flutter closed as he wraps his arms around your thighs and leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds with a satisfied hum.

you keen, reaching down for his hair without hesitation. the sharp tug makes him moan into your cunt, savoring the taste of you with nothing but pure delight. for a few minutes, all he wants is to taste as much of you as he can, but your quiet, little moans are no longer good enough for him. he licks a thick stripe up your slit and wraps his lips around your clit, tightening his grip around your thighs.

“oh, fuck,” you mewl, pulling on his hair harder. he flicks his tongue before he sucks your clit into his mouth, basking in all your needy little sounds.

din pulls away despite your desperate whine. “can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me, sweet girl,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses to your clit.

your back arches, pushing your hips further toward him. “please.”

as though he hasn’t even heard you, he continues, “but this pussy is mine now, isn’t it?”

those words are enough to have you clenching around nothing, the idea of din wanting you longer than just a night. “yes!” you cry, digging your heels into his back. “it’s yours. i’m yours, din. please let me come.”

his fingertips dig into your skin and his eyes roll back. he ducks his head down and the fervor with which he licks into you has your hips rolling against his face, so close to your release. the room echoes with the lewd sound of him between your legs and your eager moans, teetering right on the edge of another orgasm. your legs struggle against his hold as you writhe around on the cot, voice getting pitchy as he sucks your clit again, humming into you. whatever sound you’re making gets caught in your throat, your whole body tensing around him as you come again. you sob his name out, pulling his face closer and pushing your hips away, unable to decide whether you need more or rest.

din works you through your high with sweet kisses and quiet praises, nuzzling his bare cheeks against your inner thighs as you whine. “c’mere,” you slur, trying to pull him up by his hair.

he complies, allowing you to pull him into a tired, sloppy kiss in the haze of your orgasm. “can you give me one more?” he asks quietly, lining kisses across the bridge of your nose.

his wide hips settle between your legs, grinding his cock against your sensitivity and you shiver, scratching his scalp gently. “yeah,” you breathe, searching for his lips again. you smile against his lips at his sharp intake of breath, hips rolling toward yours in an effort to get him back inside of you.

din sinks his teeth into your lower lip, tugging gently. “roll over, cyar’ika.”

you barely feel like you can get the strength up to do it, even with his hands on your hips. with your hips raised in the air, you rest your forehead on your folded arms, pushing your hips back toward him eagerly. “i need it,” you huff, jumping when one of his large hands settles on your hips. “need you inside of me.”

“so impatient,” he mumbles, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. your whole body wracks with anticipation, pushing back against him and grunting when he pulls back. “you are not in charge here,” he hisses, slapping the swell of your ass sharply.

your yelp echoes throughout the small room, the sound fading into a low hum as you push your hips back. “i’m sorry,” you respond smally, reaching back to grab his wrist. “i’m sorry. please.”

his chest burns against your back as he leans over you to slide inside, choking out a moan into your ear. “perfect girl,” he spits, wrapping an arm around your waist. “take my cock so fucking well.”

you brows furrow, hips shifting until he’s brushing that perfect spot inside of you with every single thrust. still sensitive from your last orgasm, you can’t help the way you cry out at the stimulation. “right there,” you wail, your head falling from your arms as you grab helplessly at the blanket.

it feels so good that it nearly hurts, the tears that had dried after your first orgasm springing to your eyes again. “right there,” he repeats. “is that what’s going to make you come again? hm? is that the spot that’s going to have this pussy squeezing around me?”

your head feels foggy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he feels, not just inside of you but around you, too, his hot breath fanning over the side of your face, the heat of his skin warming you everywhere. one of his hands slithers between your body and the cot, finding your sensitive clit and drawing lazy, tight circles around it. “i— fuck, din,” you blubber. “it’s too much.”

“too much?” he asks gruffly, teeth sinking into your shoulder. you think the lapse in his movement will give you some relief to that unbearable ache growing between your thighs, but when his hips slow, his cock nestled as deep as it will go and your fingers still rubbing your clit, your hips jolt in a dazed panic. you can’t afford for him to stop, not when you’re so close again. “are you done yet?”

“i can take it,” you sob, fingers tightening in the flimsy blanket that covers your cot.

he’s beginning to lose control, his thighs slapping against yours as he fucks you, your face buried in the mattress as you blubber. din desperately tries to hold on but the way you cry for him leaves him reeling, counting backwards in his head to keep from coming too soon, and he’s unsure how much longer he’s going to last while you squeeze him so tight that he has to clench his teeth.

“c’mon, mesh’la,” he whispers in your ear, voice tight as he staves off his orgasm. “let me hear you.”

“din,” you whine, your thighs aching with how tight your muscles are. he hums, kissing the shell of your ear. his orgasm is already taking root in the pit of his stomach, so he pinches your clit gently.

“can you come for me? one last time?” he asks, but you’ve already clamped down on him, a broken moan falling from your lips as you come around him, inconsolably shaking around him, and there’s not a single bit of hope for him. he comes—hard—calling out your name and clutching at you, both of you riding out your highs in the darkness of the room.

after a long moment of nothing but the two of you breathing heavily, din pulls out with a broken moan, rolling to lie beside you on the cramped little cot. he’s never been good at this part—the after effects. he never knows exactly what to say, whether or not to cuddle, or if he should leave. in fact, he he’s already working himself up wondering exactly what he’s supposed to say, or if he should say anything. his eyes move in the black of the room, fingers reaching for you tentatively, ready to take the leap and pull you into his chest.

in the heavy silence, you finally give a tired laugh, rolling closer to him, right under his already open arm. “wow.”

“wow?” he repeats softly, and he can hear the mirthful lilt in your voice. it makes him feel a little better, a little more hopeful that he hasn’t entirely ruined your relationship.

“i’m just surprised that this is what all our fighting was leading up to.” it’s a joke, really, but it makes his lips turn down in a frown. after so many long, unbearable days of fighting, his heart sank at the reminder of how short the two of you had been with one another. the way that he’d treated you. he had never treated you that way before, and he had never wanted to, and even through the veil of post coital bliss, regret begins to eat at him.

“i’m...sorry,” he finally whispers, fingers intertwining with yours.

you smile, lifting your hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of his. “i know,” you assure him. “i am, too.”

and then he’s quiet again. it usually means that he’s searching for exactly the right words, so you allow him his time, pressing your cheek to his chest and breathing him in, waiting for him to finally sort out whatever is going on in his head. “i don’t—i dont want you to think that this was...something i did…” he stumbles through the idea, but you exhale softly, opting to put him out of his misery.

“mando,” you cut him off, turning your head to kiss his shoulder gently. “i know better than anyone that none of your decisions are careless.”

din chuckles quietly, relief flooding through him and relaxing all his muscles. “still, i shouldn’t have treated you that way,” he insists. “this wasn’t how i imagined this happening.”

a smitten smile pulls at your lips. “well, you’ll find some way to make it up to me,” you hum. he rubs a large hand over your back, goosebumps following as the cold air of the room rushes back to your skin. you lean away from him only to tug on the blanket. “in the meantime, i’m exhausted. let’s get some sleep.”

for the first time since he can remember, din sleeps through the night.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Men who I think would be soft for their baby for no other reasons than because I want them to be, in no particular order but still numbered ten to one because I like countdowns...

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I really do be out here exposing myself for a few of these men but I don’t care I don’t need “proof” or “common sense” or “just plain survival instincts” I just need men who are uncharacteristically soft for their babies

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Don’t come at me this is for FUN

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Part two

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10. Gally

Did some bad things, some were his fault and some weren’t, who is rough around the edges, has superiority issues, and needs a therapist more than a girl

STILL SOFT FOR HIS BABY

Higher up in a revolutionary movement and still goes to bed early to cuddle his baby

She sits on his lap during meals and he fights everyone who says anything

Fights anyone who even looks at her wrong

Tells her he loves her at least three times before he leaves on missions without her

When she goes with him he’s literally next to her the entire time

Does not let her go for hours when they finally get back to base

So fucking soft for her and only her

——————————————————————————

9. Finnick Odair

Good guy who feels like he has to be bad in order to stay alive but falls a little bit in love with it for a little too long

Begged her to move in with him after his games

Let her decorate the entire house however she wanted

Writes her love notes before every time he goes to the capital

Cries to her when he comes home every single time

When she has to go into the games he volunteers immediately even though he technically isn’t allowed and pulls strings with President Snow to be able to fight

So he literally kills for her

And makes sure she never has to fight

Marries her and tells Coin he won’t fight, stays alive for his baby

10/10 soft as fuck

——————————————————————————

8. Stephen Strange

Narcissistic doctor Avenger who uses the phone while driving

This is the one I have the least proof for but I’m 110% sure when he isn’t wearing the cape he has his baby wrapped around him like a backpack

Crumbles for his baby, I’m talking to his knees, overwhelmed by how pretty and beautiful and wonderful she is, hugging her around the waist

Loves the feeling of her fingers through his hair

Brings her to every Avengers Gala and practically begs her to leave early so they can go cuddle and eat pizza

Gets so scared whenever he has to do something dangerous

Drops what he’s doing when she calls him, has told off Steve and Tony (don’t start with me) and everyone else

Peter called him a simp once and after he googled it he looked him dead in the eyes and agreed and then packaged one of the donuts Bucky brought in for his baby and then took it and left

Man is SOFT

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7. Vincent Griffith

Reformed witch who frequently gets addicted to dark sacrificial magic and makes choices that are just this side of morally corrupt

Has skipped so many meetings as regent that he probably shouldn’t even be regent anymore

The king of date night, dancing, fine dining, jazz music, picnics, midnight rituals

Plans every little detail and gets Josh and Davina to help him

Uses magic to close down entire restaurants for the perfect night

Always holds her hand and sits her in the front row of his coven meetings and pauses the meetings accidentally when he glances over to her and she gives him a thumbs up and he has to literally stop and smile

Holds her purse without her having to ask, will go to seven different restaurants when she changes her mind on where to eat, hexes people who harm her

Big softie

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6. Indiana Jones

Literally a womanizing grave robber with very few morals

Has filled museums with all the things he has STOLEN

Would still protect his baby from booby traps though

Dresses her up and takes her out everywhere

Cancels class whenever she asks and more often than not when she doesn’t

Would be closer to the snakes so that she won’t have to be

Wouldn’t even think about yelling even when in mortal danger, even when it’s her fault for putting them in that situation

Answers every question even though she’s asked the same question a thousand times

Can’t sleep without her at all

I’m not sorry, he’s soft

——————————————————————————

5. Will Turner

Most feared and ruthless pirate on the sea

Torched a town once because his baby was treated a little too cold by a few too many people

Literally would and has fought a life altering curse for her and won

Kills so many people and still goes to bed early to cuddle in the captain’s quarters

Lets her walk all over the ship in his shirt and watches from behind the wheel, has thrown a man or two overboard when they stare too long

She didn’t even notice

Plays with her on the beach whenever she wants even if it hinders the plans of the crew

Softie alert

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4. Elijah Mikaelson

A one thousand year old+ elitist vampire with slight anger issues who has zero reason to fall in love with a plain mortal woman

But there is no way that is going to stop me

Would rip literal hearts out for his baby until he is soaked with blood

Oh, she stubbed her toe at the bar?

The bar is now torched to the ground along with everyone inside

It’s for his baby

Rebuilds the bar for her, puts it in her name, now it’s her bar and she’s making a shit ton of money

Buys her so many things, even when she says no, especially when she says no

All she has to do is pout and it’s game over

Has left so many business meetings for her that it is insane

Once bought her a chair seat at Disney because she said she liked Tangled one time and now she makes important decisions she is not qualified to make

He’s soft, soft, soft

——————————————————————————

3. Eric Coulter

A leader of a terrorist radical government who has outright anger issues and hates people who are different from him

BUUUUUT wouldn’t yell at his baby who is probably from Amity and probably got tricked into being in Dauntless

Lets her sleep in his room because fuck the training quarters that’s sus as hell (even though he’s the one who arranged the training quarters)

Lets her skip all the fighting and does not give a fuck when he gets called out for it, will literally abuse all special privileges

Would probably do the training simulation for her and tell her how to beat it

Trails behind her wherever she goes, holds her hand in the cafeteria, has her on his lap when he gets tattoos

Lets her visit home whenever she wants and threatens anyone who says other wise

HE’S SOFT I JUST KNOW IT OKAY

——————————————————————————

2. Kylo Ren

Kinda evil Supreme leader of the galaxy who has killed many people, including his dad, some who deserved it and some who did not

But wouldn’t even yell at his baby-- would cry if she cried

She sleeps in his bed and when Hux calls him out on it he breaks a desk and then almost kills him

She walks around the ship and he follows her like a puppy and chokes people out when he hears them call him a puppy in their heads

Gives her everything she wants and more, surprises her all the time

Surprise trips to beach planets and fancy events

Once he gave her a whole ass planet

Always hugging her no matter who is around and what is going on,

The softest supreme leader in the galaxy

——————————————————————————

1. Thomas Shelby

A literal deadly mob boss who shoots first and asks questions never

Would 110% kill for his lady (and has killed for his lady)

Sexy as fuck, looks good covered head to toe in blood

Yes, that deserved a point

Soft as fuck for his baby, would shoot a gun and then turn around and listen to her talk about what she wants to knit for their baby

Has paused important mob meetings because his baby wanted to gossip about what Dolly said to her at church four Sundays ago that she forgot to tell him

Keeps her as far removed from the lifestyle as possible even when that means he has to remove himself from it at points to be with her

Has skipped so many poker games without being asked purely because he wants to go home and hug his wife

He is the MOST SOFT

——————————————————————————

#thomas shelby #elijah mikaelson #kylo ren #stephen strange #indiana jones #gally tmr #gally #eric coulter #will turner #vincent griffith #finnick odair #The Hunger Games #the vampire diaries #the originals #star wars #the avengers #divergent #the maze runner #the pirates of the caribbean

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dancingwiththeplanets · 3 years

Text

An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter one

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 2 / masterlist

Summary: Boba tries to shield you from the dark side of his life. In his eyes, you are too innocent and pure for the harsh realities of the work that surrounds him. So when one day you stumble upon a meeting gone wrong when you were supposed to be hidden away, Boba’s afraid you won’t like the pieces of him he’s tried to protect you from, or worse, that now you’ll fear him.

A/N: My first fic in like 6 years, I'm nervous! haha This is kind of an AU I think?? Takes place after the events of season 2. I’ve added in two OC Mandos to the entourage because I love me some of that tribal brotherhood devotion. Also.. considering making this a series?

Warnings: soft!Boba (like, REALLY soft!Boba) protectiveness, maybe over-protectiveness? small character death, nobody important, two new sexy mandalorians (we’ll learn about them later), not much to be honest.

Word Count: 5.7k+

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There’s a lot to Jabba’s palace that most people don’t know about. A lot’s changed since the esteemed Boba Fett took over the throne and claimed ownership over the fortress in Tatooine. Castle might actually be a better word for it. Somewhat modest and ordinary looking on the outside, the true magnitude and vastness of the castle is hidden underground, even past the comfortably sized throne room.

What lingers further down the sandstone hallways are an array of rooms and staircases, mostly leading down in different directions. There’s a library and a kitchen and even a ballroom, which never has and probably never will be put to use. There are guest rooms that are more suitably described as luxurious suites, for the grand total of zero guests that Boba will allow to stay in his sanctuary.

There are permanently standing rooms for only a handful of the staff: the maid, Ada. Fennec, of course. And the two newest members of Boba’s trusted, elite team, Enzo and Raul, who arrived shortly before you did. The two are a pair of dutiful and truly impressive Mandalorians who serve at his beck and call, courtesy of Boba Fett’s ally and only recognized leader (not that he’s ever told what to do), Mand’alor Din Djarin.

Past the staff rooms and further down an open and beautifully lit hall, is the communal area of the palace, the center, if you will. Fully equipped to socialize and entertain guests with comfortable seating, a fireplace, and charming embellishments around the room. A warm and pleasant area of the palace that likewise, does not get as much use out of it as it should.

And finally, behind the common area, which in its own way, serves as a magnificent entryway, is Boba Fett’s private chambers. Home to the respected and feared bounty-hunter turned ruler, and you, his haven.

You. His cyare. His beloved. The ruthless king had fallen in love with you and your delicate heart, seemingly untampered with and somehow not left scarred by the harsh realities of Tatooine. He saw in you light and tenderness, and you gave him joy and true unconditional love. He spent many, far too many, late nights in Mos Eisley, at the cantina you worked in as a waitress. At some point visiting you every night to walk you home at the end of your shift, though you assured him you always made it home perfectly fine on your own. But Boba secretly lived for those extra few minutes he could spend with you walking you to your residence. Not to mention, he couldn’t fathom why it didn’t scare the bantha shit out of you to be walking around Mos Eisley alone at night, unarmed. That fact that you did sure as hell scared him.

On most nights he walked you home, you invited him in, unless you were absolutely too spent to spend another moment standing. But it was on those long nights that poured into the early hours of the lovely Tatooine sunrise that you and Boba grew close and eventually professed your love for one another. Soon after, he hopefully, and quite timidly, asked you to live at his palace with him. Though you’d never been before, you knew exactly where it was, and for that matter, who he was.

The new king of Tatooine had a reputation for being ruthless, unforgiving, and dangerous. And you didn’t miss the way people cowered away from his presence, especially when he wore the armor. Though, by your own calculations, every other patron who marched their way through these lands was just as feral as the Boba Fett they all believed they knew, and not one had ever been as kind or as gentle, or captivated your thoughts, the way he did.

He knew these things. More than most in the galaxy, he knew what a cruel fate such a pure being could meet, and if truth be told, he wanted to escape with your kind soul and shield you from this harsh planet before anything could harm you.

When he asked you again to go with him, you met his hopeful and loving gaze, eyes filled with devotion and admiration, and the corner of his lips pulled up just slightly in the most endearing of grins, you couldn't help but to instantly wrap your arms around him, leave a kiss to his neck, and tell him nothing would make you happier.

“Besides,” you teased, nuzzling into his neck, “I always wanted to be a princess.”

Boba chuckled and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling your face back and tracing his thumb under your chin. “Believe me, mesh’la. You already were one.”

The next day, you found yourself and what little you owned in possessions, situating in your new home. Like everyone else, you had shockingly inaccurate presumptions about the size of the palace, soon learning that what lay hidden behind the throne room and down the sandstone halls was a modest castle to get lost in. No matter, you adjusted to your new environment and routine, though still unused to the respect and coddling you received on a daily basis, you adored every extra moment spent with your king.

Which is how now, five months later, you lay quiet and still as a mouse in bed, gazing dreamily at a sleeping Boba next to you. The early morning light casting a light blue hue over the room, as the suns hadn’t quite risen just yet. You were fortunate enough that your bedroom, the top floor to your two story chambers, was one of the few rooms in the palace with a proper window, the rest of your home and castle being underground.

A low grumble from the man next to you causes you to hold your breath, eyes not daring to leave his form as he breathes in a deep sigh. “You know,” he begins drowsily, “the moment you wake up and opt to stare at me instead of closing those lovely eyes again and getting some more rest, is the exact moment that I wake up too.”

“You don’t have to wake up,” you smile teasingly.

“I can’t help it.” He grumbles, eyes still shut heavily against the apples of his cheeks. “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“For all you know,” You retort, “I’ve been staring at you, awake for hours.”

At this, Boba’s unimpressed gaze turns to you, eyes now latched onto yours. “You haven’t been.” He says.

“And how would you know?” You giggle back, “I haven’t moved a hair. I woke up facing you, and didn’t move anything but my gaze. So unless you can detect the vibrations from my blinking, you couldn’t know.”

“I know.”

It’s your turn to look unimpressed, “How?”

“Because,” He leans in close to you, your noses lightly touching and a devilish look in his eyes, “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“Mm.” You hum unconvinced, eyes fluttering closed as he leaves a kiss to your nose then pulls away to sit at the edge of the bed. You follow his form as he stretches to a stand, joints popping as he twists his back and arms around, the result of a body having gone to war and back countless times. You sit up tiredly and lean against the headboard, watching him pull on his under armor, then latching on the Beskar. Piece by piece his body is decorated with more intimidating and handsome armor, slowly shielding your eyes from the scarred but lovely body of his that you admire possibly a little too much.

“You stare any harder and I might decide to take it back off,” Boba quips, a smirk rising on his cheeks.

You blush, shaking your head and looking away, gaze now pointedly out the window.

“Mesh’la,” He says, grabbing your attention again, his hands now occupied tugging on his gloves as he takes a few strides towards you. He smiles at the pink tint to your cheeks and your guilty smile, the remains of having been caught admiring him still plastered on your face. “I have important business to attend to today. But I’ve arranged for those workers to come and paint the library in a couple hours, would you mind overseeing it?”

He lifts a hand to lightly brush his thumb along your cheek, looking down upon you quizzically.

“Of course.” You nod eagerly. You've slowly been tending to every inch of the palace, erasing all remnants of the Hutt’s and adding in touches of comfort and warmth wherever you can. You wouldn’t say decorating is a passion of yours. But this is your home now, you might as well fill it with things you admire. Plus, Boba said if you didn’t take over the project, he’d just paint everything grey and toss out the old furniture without replacements.

You shiver as you untuck yourself from your velvety comforter. For a fortress built on possibly one of the hottest planets in the Outer Rim, this place can get cold. Probably due to the fact that it’s rooted so deeply underground.

Happy to have something to do, you head to the fresher for a quick wash before Boba leaves to his duties. You exit your chambers together, Enzo and Raul already waiting in the common area for you both. Upon seeing them, you turn and leave a gentle kiss to the cheek of Boba’s helmet for a final moment of private intimacy before you descend the staircase, hearing him chuckle fondly at your action as he follows.

“Good morning Fett, my lady.” Enzo bows lowly, turning to you. You laugh and shove his shoulder upon reaching the pair of them. You can hear the hint of amusement in his voice as Raul shakes his head beside him.

“Good morning gentlemen.” You smile.

Boba huffs coming to stand beside you, “Gentlemen.” He scoffs at your words.

Raul clears his throat, “Crane should be here soon, boss.” He says, visor trained on Boba and arms crossed over his chest, gaze briefly turning towards you before meeting the boss again.

You look towards your partner, “Your meeting today?” You ask.

“Yes.” He says, giving a quick nod.

“Alright,” You say, glancing at the suspiciously still trio of Beskar-clad men, “I’m going to the kitchens to have some breakfast. Then I’ll meet up with those workers in the library.”

Boba nods again, confirming your agenda.

You stare up at him, waiting for him to sputter out whatever it is you know he’s wanting to say.

“...Then,” You go on, “I guess I will, do some reading or...baking or...stare at the wall or something.”

“Sounds like a riveting afternoon,” Raul says after a more than comfortable silence.

“Okay,” you smile, chuckling a little and taking a step back, choosing to dismiss yourself now before the awkwardness has a chance to develop. “Have fun with Mr. Crane.”

Boba clears his throat as you turn towards the kitchens, stopping you with a hand on your arm. “Mesh’la,” He says, glancing pointedly at Raul and Enzo, who move to wait for him a few paces away. “Could you do me a favor?”

You tilt your head suspiciously, urging him to go on. “You’re acting rather strange Boba Fett.” You tease.

He grunts, “I’ve had a lot of trouble with Calendei Crane. He’s not a very loyal man, nor do I consider him a good one. He’s had a lot of chances to make up for the problems he’s caused me, but recently he went too far, and we’re not going to be having a charming reunion just now.” He sighs, “What I’m trying to say is... he didn’t necessarily come here by his own accord. And he won’t be very happy that he is.”

“I understand.” You nod.

Boba frowns inside his helm. I don’t think you do cyare.

“Alright then,” he says, “That said, I would really appreciate it if you would stay away from the throne room today. At least until I send Fennec or Enzo for you or something.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his hand opening and closing nervously by his side. He thinks you don’t know what he means. Oh Boba.

You reach for his hand as you step closer to his form. “Boba,” you whisper, leaning up towards him with a small smile, “You are the most kind and gentle man I’ve ever known. But I know that you are a man of business and principles. You do whatever you have to do. If an employee of yours is out there making a mess under your name, I would expect nothing less than for you to handle it.” You say, hoping to reassure him.

You raise your free hand to rest against the cheek of his helmet, “But I’ll busy myself back here until you’re done.”

He lets out a sigh in relief, hand reaching up to grab yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” He says, before tenderly tapping his forehead against yours and turning to get on with his day.

You shake your head at his retreating form. Despite all of the darkness and dirt and the scum that surround Boba in his everyday life, he really does try everything in his power to not let it touch you. It’s almost as if despite the late night confessions and raw conversations you two have shared about your lives don’t translate to reality for Boba. As if he somehow believes you don’t truly know what it is that he does and who he is.

He seems to forget that you yourself have grown up with the same scum that populate this planet. In the nearest city to here in fact, where all the mudscuppers of the galaxy would stay and wreak havoc when this was once Jabba’s palace. You’ve seen things. You’ve experienced things. Some things that, shamefully, you haven’t yet shared with Boba. But what you can say with the utmost of certainty is that you know exactly the kind of people that like to deal in underworld business. And you know that there are many cruel beings out there. But Boba, he certainly isn’t one of them.

You sigh, turning to pass through the empty dining hall to the kitchens. The light tapping of your shoes echoing in the desolate space. A part of you wishes you had said to him, ‘Oh Boba, when will you learn that you don’t need to protect me from yourself?’

A necessary conversation for another time, you decide.

Shaking away your thoughts, you wander into the kitchen, making yourself a quick breakfast and giggling a while with Ada, as she begins preparing a stew for all staff members taking up a residency in the palace. She often prepares meals in substantial quantities, making enough for herself, you, Boba, Fennec, and the two other Mandalorians to all enjoy in your respective chambers.

“Take some of these to go dear!” She calls out, chasing after your form as you exit the kitchen. “You had better be eating a balanced diet.” She chides, handing you a towel with some berries on it.

“Thank you Ada,” you smile, leaving a peck to her cheek and making your way to the library.

When you arrive, the workers still aren't there, and you hum glancing at the clock. They should have already been here and working at least for an hour by now.

Expecting their arrival soon, you busy yourself with cleaning dusty bookshelves and making piles of the previous inhabitants' furnishings and decorations you’d rather not have.

You plop down on the floor after sorting through your ninth bookshelf, sighing after attempting to categorize everything by genre. Even opting to make a pile of books to get rid of, because really, nobody needs handbooks on slave trading and dealing in the dark business of the underworld. They’re just not something you’d like in your home.

You glance at the time again. “What on Tatooine.” You mutter, stretching to a stand. You’ve officially been bailed on, because you've been sitting in this dingy library for four hours and if nobody’s shown up yet, you doubted they would be.

Looking around at the mess you’ve made, you decide to finish tackling this task tomorrow, and head back down the hall towards your private chambers.

You pause to lean against the wall with your eyes closed, letting out a great yawn. It’s barely past noon and you’re already beat.

A voice calls your name just in front of you, startling you in the dark, candlelit hall.

“Ada!” You jump, with a hand to your chest.

“Mm, I’m sorry sweet one.” She frowns. “You had better go check on your Mandalorian.” She says sternly, wagging a finger up at you. “He sounds angrier than a farmer whose fresh crops have been raided by Tuskans.”

You furrow your eyebrows at her words, frowning. “Does he sound alright?” You ask, concerned.

“Too riled up.” She chides, shaking her head as she continues to pass you in the hall, grabbing a hold of your arm “Go straighten him out, lecture him on that temper of his.”

“Ada,” You sigh, “He’s dealing with a trying issue right now, and I promised that I’d stay away from this meeting.”

“Peh,” She waves her hand in dismissal, “Fine, your decision. But I did see a couple of those workers you were waiting on looking rather frightened up in the throne room. Go on and fetch them and get on with your project. You left quite a mess in there for me to deal with.”

“What?” You look disbelievingly at her, “Well why didn't you just send them my way. I waited all morning for them.”

She shakes her head, looping her arm through yours as you continue walking side-by-side. You roll your eyes at the nerve.

The sound of sudden, unmistakable shouting, coming from much further down the hall and up the stairs ascending to the throne room stops you instantly. Your eyes widen a bit as the voice carries on, rather menacingly. You wouldn’t want to be the one receiving the tail end of that conversation. Boba truly does sound pissed. You wonder how long he’s been with this Crane fellow.

“Ada,” you whisper, the lower tone seeming appropriate, “Don’t you go trying to get me into trouble.” You say, pulling her back as she tries to urge you forward.

“Young lady,” She scolds, looking up at you in a surprisingly threatening way. “I have much work to do. I need my good broom which I left up those stairs, and you need your painters or carpenters or whatever it is those fellas up there are. So, let us ladies get on with our business and fetch our things.”

“If you’re already heading up,” You say through slightly gritted teeth, “Then why don’t you just go up there, grab your broom, and do me the favor of nudging down my workers while you’re at it.”

“Because I have a bad leg. Now either accompany me up stairs so that I don’t fall or go on and get those things for the two of us at last!”

“Maker, Ada fine!” You say, losing your temper. A part of you knowing she was just stirring up trouble. You start up the first step and turn to her with an obvious empty threat. “And I’ll be sure to note to Boba that our maid has a bad leg leaving her incapable of climbing our palace full of stairs.” You mutter disbelievingly.

“Mm, you do that.” She counters.

You sigh, shaking your head as you quickly make your way up, hearing Ada walk away behind you.

That woman knows far too well that we would never replace her, you think.

Your focus shifting back to the surprisingly silent throne room just up and down the hall, you walk wearily, suddenly a little nervous.

You notice as you near the room, your steps silent down the hall, that there is a hushed but heated back and forth taking place.

“-swear Mr. Fett I-I d-didn’t know they were-”

“-What?” You hear Boba’s ominous voice interrupt. “You didn't know what?”

His form comes into view as you peek your head into the room, watching him descend the steps of his throne and approaching the accused slowly. You take a half step back, hoping to further hide your position, seeing as before, you were concealed behind his back. But given his new stance, the flicker of his gaze upwards and Boba would be met with your sinful and curious eyes.

Raul, you note, leans comfortably against the wall across the room behind Boba, observing the scene from afar, but seemingly more interested in fixing a mechanism on his Westar-35.

Fennec, who, based on the fearful gaze he glances up at her with, was obviously the one to retrieve Crane, staring down at him with a daring look in her eyes, as if challenging him to try and escape this situation. Enzo stands on Crane's other side, blocking most of your view from the accused and his state. You also note that there is no such broom or fearful workers around. Ada.

“Mr. Fett-” He whimpers.

“Sod it.” Enzo growls, raising his weapon to shove against Crane’s neck, hushing his pleas instantly.

You observe the creature as best you can from your corner. You don’t want to peer out any further for fear of alerting Boba of your presence. He wasn’t human, but not terribly strange looking, a blue being, probably a humanoid, but with claws for nails that were certainly not cute. He’s on his knees, head bowed forward in obvious shame and fear, and hands tied firmly behind his back. This guy looks like he’s had a pretty bad couple of days, but you still can’t tell if you feel sorry for him or not.

Boba reaches Crane in the center of the room, and in a manner so menacing and calculated, that exerts a level of dominance that frightens even you, he crouches down on his heels, meeting Crane eye-level.

Boba slowly pulls his blaster out of its holster and lifts it to Crane’s ducked chin, using the barrel to tilt Crane’s face up to meet his.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel yourself running out of air.

“You didn’t know what Crane?” Boba repeats in a tone so hushed you could barely hear. “That you were selling information to an enemy of mine? That you were betraying the trust that I had put in you? That you stole my property, weapons, and money to give to people who wish to do me harm?”

You can’t help but to feel anxious and on edge. Knowing very well you are not supposed to be in here observing the scene in front of you. Wondering if at this point, you should even try to make your silent leave.

Crane, seemingly breathless, and having accepted his fate, nods in defeat. “I’m sorry Boba.” He whispers.

“You violated the terms of our agreement Crane.” Boba says, rising up and adjusting his belt. “I gave you opportunity after opportunity to make it right. I told you that this was your final chance. I even gave you the kriffing option to leave!” He finally shouts.

You watch his chest heaving in rage as he continues to stare down at a defeated Crane.

Boba scoffs, “What did you expect would happen?”

The crippled man on the floor does what you least expect, his gaze lazily lifting up to meet Boba’s as he chuckles carelessly, his laugh soon transforming into a truly mad howl.

He looks like an absolute maniac.

Your eyes furrow in extreme discomfort as you watch the dramatic change in scene, and despite the obvious upper-hand that Boba has, you feel the urge to stand between him and this disturbed creature.

“I-I guess,” Crane breathes out between spouts of laughter, “I held out hope. Hope that the famous Boba Fett, oh-” he croaks out another laugh, “I’m sorry, that the-the King of Tatooine, would finally meet his demise like he should have all those years ago in the sarlacc. Oh, Boba, we were all so pleased when we thought you’d met the maker that day, but you...you son of a nerf herder, you lived. And WHY should you get to live while the rest of us died off! TELL ME BOBA FETT! Because you know something? You of all beings do NOT get to cheat death. You think you’re better than the rest of us, trying to make amends for your crimes against nature? Against the galaxy?”

Crane leans his head forward nearly slamming it against the ground as he violently spits out, “-No, no, no, no old friend. You are the worst, most foul kind of scum to EVER have walked these lands. You are no worse than Jabba, don’t you kid yourself. And if I have played any part in your demise, I’ll have avenged my brothers who have died at your hand. Your end is coming Boba Fett! You will fall, and so will anyone who tries to prevent your end!” He carries on, doubling over while spitting out the most ludicrous threats between maniacal laughter.

A wave of pure fear plunges your heart, leaving a sickly feeling in your gut at his words. You don’t even realize that your longing to protect Boba has unconsciously pulled your body a few steps in his direction. Your error not evident to you until Raul moves from across the room, capturing your attention. You glance at him only to see the gaze of his visor already locked onto yours and his body making quick strides towards you.

“Boss-” Raul says hurriedly, but not before a shot rings out, causing you to jump and gasp, hands flying up in front of you in instinctual defense.

You open your eyes and turn your head to face Boba just as his gaze snaps in your direction. Even with the visor covering his face you can see he’s taken aback by your presence. His arm lowers quickly with his blaster, holstering it. Everyone’s attention seems to be on you.

Nobody moves for a moment, and still frozen, your gaze flicks down to the dead being, monster, who lays thankfully slain on the floor.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you avert your gaze back up to Boba, whose arm shifts nervously at his side.

“Ner- ner cyare.” He whispers, his tone strained and unlike you’ve ever heard before.

You take a step towards him, but don’t go much closer when Enzo shifts to exist as a barricade between you and the bloody mess to Boba’s side.

“What are you doing here?” He says, seeming to struggle with every word.

“I-I can’t remember.” You say after a beat, nervous again suddenly that you’ve poked your nose into business you told him you’d stay away from.

He stands frozen, panicked behind the harsh mask of his visor. His absolute worst fear being realised as you stand in the aftermath of an execution he himself carried out, right in front of your eyes.

Cruel. Unforgiving. Dangerous. Vile. Sadistic. Merciless.

All words he imagines were running though your sweet mind behind those wide eyes.

“Boba.” you utter, taking another step towards him, hesitating at first then succumbing to your hearts needs and taking up a speedier pace.

Your hands, which at some point started shaking, matching your more obviously quickened heart rate, raise up slowly to rest on his chest, and you swear he flinches at the contact.

“Cyare-” He mutters again, heart beating undoubtedly twice as fast as your own, fear and desperation clinging to the word, but he stops when your suddenly tear-filled eyes meet his gaze and you cling to the sides of his helm.

“Boba, are you okay?” You whisper frantically.

At that, he lets out a shaky exhale, body loosening and head tilting slightly at your words.

“What?” He asks, stunned.

“Are you alright?” You say, searching desperately through the dark visor of his helm for his warm, brown eyes.

“Am...am I okay?” He repeats.

“Yes I-I heard everything he said.” You stutter, head turning to meet the deranged creature's corpse covered in his own blood before Boba finally and frantically grabs a hold of your cheek to gently avert your gaze away from the scene. “He-he was absolutely maniacal.” You let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry I came but I-I heard shouting and A-Ada said something I can’t even remember what but I ended up here somehow and please don’t be mad but maker I just didn’t expect this-” you pause, tempted to glance at the corpse again but your cheek stays steadied in Boba’s hand, “-this monster to be here, threatening you and maker I know you’re alright, you’re always alright, but I desperately wanted to be standing between you and him to do anything to shield you from his threats I-”

“-Mesh’la.” Boba says, more of his confidence appearing in his voice and his movements but still weary nonetheless.

“Are you okay?” You repeat desperately, cradling his helmet firmly in your hands again.

“I’m-yes. Yes mesh’la, I’m alright.” He stutters out, “Are-are you not afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” You breathe out, taken aback. “Never, Boba. I-I could never fear you.”

Boba’s completely stilled in your arms. It feels like hours, your wide eyes looking at him with that familiar tenderness and devotion. You almost forget about the other’s, standing completely motionless around you, until Boba suddenly turns you and urges you forward with gentle hands on your waist, his form practically shielding you, quite fruitlessly, from the scene he guides you away from.

When you reach the hallway, he allows you to pull him next to you instead, as he opens the door to the closest chamber in sight and ushers you into it, closing the door behind you both.

The dimly lit room casts a warm glow on you both as you turn to face Boba, whose back is slumped up against the closed door. He heaves in slow, heavy, deep breaths.

You stand, unmoving, only a few inches from him. Gaze locked on his visor, you wear a concerned expression on your face, your own breaths silent but speedy as you wait for him to explain his behavior.

He finally says your name, both his palms rising in a pleading request for you to take them.

You place your hands gently in his, and he cradles them to his chest, looking down at them. So small and clean and innocent in his dark gloves that carry the stains of countless victims.

You hold your breath when you hear a choked sob escape from his modulator. Your mouth falls open a bit, eyes flitting down to where he stares at his hands caressing your own.

“Boba?” You mutter.

As if prompted by your voice, a more obvious sob falls from Boba’s lips, and his hands release your own, finding purchase on your hips as he falls to his knees before you.

You gasp out a breath of disbelief as you watch your partner, your warrior, your Boba, cling to your waist. Silent sobs shake his body as he hesitantly pulls his hand from you and places it under the lip of his helmet, tugging the armor off and letting it topple to the floor beside you.

Tears spill down Boba’s face, following the same trail left behind by the first few that managed to fall. You grasp his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping across his cheeks and erasing the tears that slid down his scarred skin.

Your vision blurs as your own eyes well with tears. “My love,” You whisper, “What’s wrong?”

His forehead tightens and brows furrow, making him look like he’s in pain. “Mesh’la I-” he stops to compose himself, his eyes looking down though you hold his face in your palms. “You- you do not fear me?”

“I could never Boba.” You assure him, you voice cracking as you say the words. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in my life. You...being with you, makes me feel safer than I ever thought I could feel.”

Your hand leaves his cheek to smooth out the worried lines on his forehead, and you bring your index finger under his chin, urging him to look up at you. “That creature, monster, whatever he was,” You start, “He was disloyal and foul and cruel. He wanted to hurt you. Which means he wanted to hurt me. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You’re my everything Boba.”

He stares up at you, vulnerable, more unsteady than you’ve ever seen him, but you go on, “I know who you are Boba Fett. I know that you were a bounty hunter. I know that now you rule the underworld and that sometimes you do unpleasant things. I know that you have regrets and I know that you have a past. I have one too. But most importantly, I know that you are a good man, worthy of my trust. And I will stand by your side every day for as long as you want me here, because I love you. My mind, my body, my soul,” you whisper, tears flowing down your own cheeks now, “-they’re yours Boba. All of me is yours.”

Tears well in his eyes again as you speak, but he doesn’t hide from you as he frowns against the tears threatening to spill again. “I love you so much.” He confesses almost fearfully.

You reach down to unlatch his hands from your waist, though you’re met with mild resistance, before you kneel to be level with him. You lean forward slowly and kiss him, passionately and desperately and devotedly. He cups your face in his hands, pressing you to him as close as he can before releasing you.

“You,” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours with closed eyes, “You are too pure for this galaxy. An angel living amongst demons.”

“And I suppose you think you’re a demon?” You shake your head, smiling at the absurdity of it.

“Me?” He grins, “A fallen angel? Most definitely.”

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #jabbas palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader

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triptuckers · 3 years

Text

Drained - Anakin Skywalker

Request: nope Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader Summary: The war is taking a toll on everyone, and you’re tired of it. Warnings: mentions of minor injuries (not reader) Word count: 1.3K A/N: I’m 2 followers away from 600 🥺 have this Anakin x reader because I love him so much, enjoy reading!

Weeks. Months. Years. Time didn’t even feel real anymore. The war is still raging on, despite the Jedi’s best efforts to end it. You can tell everyone is growing tired of it. Though no one’s said it out loud, you can tell at least half of the smiles people give you are fake.

You can’t help but to think it must be easy for the clones. Most of the times, you can’t even see their faces because of their helmets. They don’t have to smile reassuringly at everyone they see.

But you’re a Jedi. You’ve got a handful of clones under your command. And they need to see there’s an end to this war, that they can win it, that there’s still hope. You can’t show the signs that are so obviously there.

The only one who ever sees them is Anakin, and you even try to hide them from him. He has enough to worry about. The last thing you’d want, is for him to worry about you as well. You’re a grown woman, you can handle yourself.

You stretch your arms above your head as you walk through the halls of the Temple. Most Jedi used their time at the Temple to get some rest in between missions. You tried to do the same, but most of the times you were at the Temple, either Obi-Wan or Anakin and Ahsoka were on a mission. Resting was not easy when you are worrying about them.

Right now, you’re merely waiting for Master Yoda to tell you he’s got another mission for you. Anakin and Ahsoka are on their way back from a mission, and Obi-Wan got a nasty blaster hit on his last mission, so it was only logical you would be assigned to the next mission.

You’re on your way to the gardens. Your mind is often restless, and meditation is the best solution to it. Though you like your quarters, there’s something about the gardens that you can’t find anywhere else.

You’ve almost reached the gardens, when you see a familiar figure in the distance, also heading for the gardens. You jog to catch up with them.

‘Ahsoka!’ you say, and she turns around. ‘When did you come back?’

‘Hello Master Y/L/N- I mean, hello Y/N.’ she says, correcting herself. You didn’t like to be called “Master Y/L/N” by your friends. ‘We only just got here.’ she looks at you, and answers your question before you’ve asked it. ‘Anakin is in his quarters. His robes got ripped he needed to change.’

‘Thanks!’ you say, and you turn and walk the other way, leaving the gardens behind you.

You and Anakin had developed a habit of checking up on each other when one of you came back from a mission. It had started years ago, back when you were still Padawans. Somehow, it became a second nature to you.

Everyone knew you and Anakin were close. Always checking up on each other, inside jokes, being able to communicate without words. Everyone also had the very strong feeling you and Anakin are a lot more than close friends, but because they couldn’t prove any of it, and nothing ever went wrong, no one would act on their suspicions.

You knock on the door of Anakin’s quarters and wait. A few moments later, it opens, revealing a very tired looking Anakin. He smiles at you and steps aside so you can enter.

‘You look like hell.’ you say. ‘Good to see you too, Y/N/N.’ he says.

You walk up to him and raise your hand to his cheek, where a cut stretches from his temple almost to the corner of his lips.

‘I’m fine.’ he says. ‘It’s nothing, just a little cut.’ ‘Hmm.’ you hum, and Anakin slightly rolls his eyes. ‘I know what hmm means.’ he says. ‘I was careful. No unnecessary risks. Sometimes stuff like this happens, you know that.’ ‘Yeah, I know it does.’ you say, dropping your hand from his cheek.

‘Thought you’d be on a mission when we got back.’ he says, moving to sit on his bed. ‘That makes two of us.’ you say. ‘I’m only waiting for Master Yoda to tell me where I’m going. I was on my way to the gardens to meditate, actually. But then I ran into Ahsoka who told me you were here.’

‘I think a nap would suit you more than meditation right now.’ chuckles Anakin. His eyes travel over your tired eyes and the heavy bags under them. ‘No offence, but you also look like hell.’ he says.

‘I’m fine.’ you say. Anakin raises his eyebrows in doubt. ‘Really.’ you say with a smile.

Anakin looks at you. ‘I can see you’re smiling, but I can sense you’re not fine.’ he says. ‘How can I help?’

You look at him for a while. He’s waiting for your answer as you look at him. And then it’s like everything hits you at once, like a huge wave. Tears fall from your eyes and you feel your knees give out. Anakin catches you before you can hit the ground.

‘Hey, hey, hey, what are all those tears about?’ he says as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You try to say something, but only sobs escape your lips.

‘Shh.’ says Anakin softly. ‘It’s alright, I’m here, I’ve got you. Let it all out.’

You don’t know how long you sat there, until you finally pull back a bit from Anakin’s embrace to wipe the tears off your cheeks. You move to stand up, but Anakin doesn’t let go of you. You look at him and he smiles at you.

‘Let’s stay like this for a while.’ he says. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

You sigh and let your head fall to his chest. ‘I’m just so tired.’ you say. ‘Of this war, of fighting, all of it. I just want it to be over. I want to walk around the temple and annoy Obi-Wan like we used to do when we were younger. Use my free time to improve my lightsaber skills or just walk around Coruscant and go for a drink. Feels like all I know is war. It used to be different.’

‘I understand.’ says Anakin. ‘These days it feels like this war might never end. But it will. We’ll just have to hold on a little longer. At least we’ve got each other. And it’s alright if it gets too much sometimes. We’re all tired, you’re certainly not alone in this, Y/N.’ says Anakin.

You sigh and lift your head from his chest. ‘How do you do it, Anakin? How do you hold on?’ you say.

‘Well, mostly because of you. I hold on for you.’ says Anakin. ‘Artoo!’

You look up when you hear Artoo approaching you, beeping happily.

‘Show her, buddy.’ says Anakin.

Artoo beeps again before showing a holo. It’s an old picture of you and Anakin that Ahsoka took years ago. You look at it and smile. It was taken before the war, and both you and Anakin are smiling brightly. You two look so young. Unaware of the war that would start, sending you all across the galaxy.

‘They once reset Artoo’s memory, and I was scared to death that had gotten erased as well.’ says Anakin. ‘Thanks Artoo.’ The blue and white droid beeps once and takes off.

You turn back to look at Anakin and smile.

‘Now, that’s a real smile.’ says Anakin and he stands up, pulling you up with him. ‘You didn’t have to show me that, you know.’ you say. ‘Hey, you asked me how I hold on, that’s how.’ says Anakin. ‘Remember years ago, you made me promise to come back to you? I care about you, Y/N, and if it’s up to me, I’m never going to break that promise.’

‘You’re really amazing, you know that right?’ you say. ‘Eh, I try to be.’ says Anakin, making you chuckle. You move closer and wrap your arms around his torso. Anakin rests his chin on your head.

‘Can I stay here tonight?’ you ask. ‘I’ll leave early in the morning. It’s just that your presence is soothing.’ ‘Of course.’ says Anakin. ‘We could both use a good night’s sleep.’

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Jo

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