#overall would choose the dead body

[depression-fork]

hey it’s been a hot minute but here I am again with a weird question

Would you rather find a dead body or 1000 roaches in your attic?

Is the dead body also in the attic? How dead is the dead body? Is it still warm? Is it cold? Is it a skeleton? A mummy? A frozen corpse? Is it getting its dead body juices everywhere? Are there maggots eating its flesh? Do I know the corpse or is it random? There are many variables.

[calder]

Released in 2010, Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout: New Vegas actively concerns itself with the realities of gay existence, and is widely recognized as a noteworthy work of queer science fiction. New Vegas extensively examines social attitudes towards homosexuality among the game's major factions, and primarily conveys this lore through gay and bisexual characters describing their own experiences. It also allowed the player to mechanically set the Courier's sexual orientation. By taking both available perks, the player character can be bisexual. By choosing neither, the player can opt out of seeing flirtatious dialogue options.

Uniquely, Fallout: New Vegas explores homosexuality in the context of wasteland societies, and touches upon related issues. The core theme of New Vegas is that the desire to recreate the past is driven by irrational nostalgia, and any endeavor to manifest past glory is dangerous and doomed. The social issue of homophobia is used as a demonstrative example. The resurrection of corporate and military power structures presents new avenues for Old World problems such as institutional homophobia to reemerge. One of the many issues that divide the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion is the latter's open persecution of gay people. The NCR is described as tolerant and even accepting of same-sex relationships, though acceptance tends to fall off the further one moves away from the developed, urbanized core of New California. In recent years, the Republic's rapid economic transformation has led to an unforeseen erosion of the humanitarian ideals which it was founded to serve. In practice, to recreate America was to take on its shortcomings and its sins. As subsistence scavenging has dried up, the people of the NCR increasingly turn to wage labor, entrepreneurial venture, or military enlistment to keep their families fed. Meanwhile, their government enacts morally corrosive imperialism (narrative verbiage), their dominion expanding indefinitely as their infrastructure crumbles from within. This has led to a profit-based imperial monoculture which must conquer, consume, and coerce to perpetuate. As personal politics and service labor grow in importance, people find themselves more inclined to present as "normal" in the interest of financial stability and political expedience. A loading screen visualizes this culture of artificial social normalcy: the portrait of President Aradesh on the NCR 5$ bill neglects to depict his unibrow, earring, and facial scarification, overall portraying the once-chieftain so cleanly-cut as to be unrecognizable at first glance. He also appears to be wearing a collared shirt or suit as opposed to the robe he wore in Fallout.

In the Legion, Caesar has mandated that every legionnaire take a wife and produce children, citing high infant mortality rates and the constant need for soldiers, and going as far as instituting child quotas. He treats human beings as a resource to be exploited for war. Ostensibly in this aim homosexuality has been declared a capital offense punishable by death. Historically, routine demonstrations of violence towards women and gay people are a deliberate feature of fascist societies, the only logical cultural conclusion of a government devoted entirely to war and control. In Forlorn Hope letter 9, an NCR soldier wrote wrote the following to his boyfriend:

Dearest Andrew, Writing this seems pretty morbid, but tomorrow we march into the no man's land between our camp and Nelson, which is crawling with Legion. The Major insisted I write this damn "if you get this, I'm dead" letter so here it is. What a crock. I have the luck of the devil and your love on my side, so I'll be home soon. Keep the porch light on for me. We'll party in New Vegas when I get back. I love you. —Devin

Devin believed he would prevail over the Legion because his love would keep him safe. He was found dying or dead on the battlefield, the letter was found on his body. In a post-release patch, the injured soldiers were removed from the battlefield for performance reasons, and never re-implemented. Driven largely in reaction to the Legion's hyper-masculine posturing and misogyny, rumors persist across the Mojave that gay male relationships are not only common within the Legion, but condoned. These rumors are repeated commonly in NCR society. A closeted NCR Major mentions that the Legion is "a little more... forgiving" about close male "friendships," speaking in a hushed tone to avoid suspicion. At the same outpost, the player can encounter Cass, a bisexual civilian woman. She may flirt with a male Courier, who may imply they are gay, prompting her to imply gay men are more common in the Legion. Even as gay men fight and die in the name of love under his command, NCR General Oliver may remark to Courier Six at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam: "If you think after all that's happened, I'm going to grab my ankles and take it like the Legion..."

This writing pertains to institutionalized homophobia which manifests in practice though power structures and social interactions without being written into law. Simply put, in his derogatory remark, the general expresses to his army that military surrender is gay, much like their gay enemy. From the brevity and bluntness of this remark, it's clear that this sentiment is already well understood among his ranks. Logically, to project strength in the eyes of such a leader, one might also project homophobia by scrutinizing and harassing one's peers and subordinates. In this atmosphere, the expression of homophobia is not only normalized, but materially incentivized. For the ambitious, it becomes a tool, and a way of casting shame upon rivals. For the closeted, homophobia becomes a survival tactic, hoping to throw scrutiny off oneself. This is why Major Knight is immediately frightened when a male Courier flirts with him. He is so profoundly alienated that he romanticizes life as a gay man under the Legion. The Legion punish homosexuality with death, and yet Knight characterizes them as more "forgiving" than the NCR. Through these apparently disparate events, the audience can trace how a distorted perception of gay people emerges among insecure men in a military environment, and subsequently becomes ingrained in the corresponding civilian culture. At the 188 Trading Post, a lesbian from the Brotherhood of Steel named Veronica also wryly remarks that she believes legionaries have gay sex about as often as straight sex. She also notes that this only applies to men, as women have no rights whatsoever in Legion society. In this aside, she conveys a pre-existing frustration with lesbophobic social norms. Veronica also mentions that the people of her bunker would rather she remain on the surface. The Mojave Brotherhood of Steel has no official policy prohibiting homosexuality, but an implicit attitude among its dominant members that their limited numbers require everyone to have children to avoid extinction. Numerically, this may seem logical on the surface, given their reluctance to recruit outsiders. However, given their tiny population, this is an ineffective countermeasure, as they do not have nearly enough members to maintain genetic diversity for more than a few generations. This approach is not universally supported by all family units within the Brotherhood, but every individual is ultimately at the mercy of the elder. Veronica was in a lesbian relationship, but they were quietly separated by Elder Elijah, due to the dominant culture of enforcing heterosexual pairing among their population.

Caesar's law has not ended homosexuality within his domain. Despite the obvious risks, some legionaries have continued to pursue relationships behind closed doors, especially given their access to slaves. So long as members complete their societal obligations and fulfill the child quotas, they are able to pursue romance with other men in secret. Homosexual relationships in the faction are noted as being relatively equal compared to the average Legion husband and wife, in a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" sort of open secret policy. Gay legionaries must always make sure to keep their activities hidden. A centurion was once almost caught fraternizing with the teenage boy he had chosen to tend his tent. Despite previous "romantic" intentions, he quickly resolved to dispose of the slave to dispel suspicion. Had they been caught together, the centurion would have been charged with homosexuality and sentenced to death. This story is only known because the enslaved young man, Jimmy, managed to escape execution. Further illustrating the cruelty intrinsic to Legion governance, it's stated that homosexuality was the crime, and not the rape of a young slave; in fact, it seems Jimmy was forced to contribute to the child quota despite being a gay teenager, and the experience left him traumatized. He has resolved to never have sex with another woman, as the very notion triggers memories which fill him with disgust, and (in his own words) makes him feel like a slave all over again. The Strip is indifferent to gay people, viewing them as another opportunity to make caps. Both the Gomorrah and the Atomic Wrangler are interested in maximizing profits, and their prostitution services cater to clients regardless of their orientation. The openly gay Jimmy works at nearby Casa Madrid, but there is some tension among his peers due to his co-worker Maude's blatant homophobia. She supposes he's "okay, for one of those," and if propositioned by a female Courier, Maude will direct them to Sweetie for such "perverted" services. Pretty Sarah must regularly intervene to keep the peace among her staff.

The Followers of the Apocalypse, well-read punks who seek to embody healing through anarchistic values, are not concerned with gender. Most are openly and casually sexually active. Upon meeting Courier Six, Arcade Gannon offhandedly makes his gayness known, unprompted. The audience must face the fact that Arcade's apprehension of the Legion is far from abstract; under Legion law, he would be put to death. One possible ending gives further insight into Caesar's hypocrisy: should the player sell Arcade into slavery and leave Caesar alive, he will keep Arcade as a personal physician and philosophical advisor. They intellectually spar at length, and Caesar grows singularly fond of him. Accordingly, Arcade imitates the historic suicide of Cato the Younger by disemboweling himself. The Legion's remaining medics attempted to save his life, but none were Arcade's equal. Caesar understood his doctor's final gesture of contempt, and mourned him for months.

New Vegas ventures further into themes of healing from the trauma of sexual violence, from the perspective of a lesbian character. Corporal Betsy, an NCR sharpshooter, is a rape survivor, and suffers with PTSD from the incident. Her unprocessed trauma has manifested as a maladaptive tendency to aggressively and explicitly proposition the women she encounters, in an effort to reassert a sense of control. This defensive hypersexual impulse has negatively impacted her ability to connect with other women. A male superior officer notes that her behavior is inappropriate for anyone of her stature, but abstains from disciplining her out of sincere concern for her mental health. The Courier can help her begin to recognize these problems, and convince her to seek treatment from Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas medical clinic, which proves helpful to her as she processes and heals from her trauma.

In Old World Blues, the Think Tank are five floating brains in jars who express themselves by waving robotic arms bearing screens depicting facial features. Before the War, they were federal scientists who committed crimes against humanity in the name of weapons development. Each is stuck in some sort of neuro-bionic feedback loop which prevents them from moving forward with their projects, mentally binding them to their central laboratory. Walking through their homes at Higgs Village, it's clear each was deeply neurotic before they were transformed into floating brains. Now without bodies, they attempt to maintain the illusion that they are exempt from sexuality as purely mental beings, but each displays obvious interest in the human form. They have codified this shaming with the term "formography." Most of the men are obsessively defensive over their complete disinterest in penises, which they talk about constantly. However, the shameless Dr. Dala shows overwhelming interest in observing and recording any and all human functions. Already androgynous in her pre-War life, Dala has taken to self-identifying as a "gender neutral entity" (though she is not known to use they/them pronouns). Regardless of the Courier's gender, they may coquettishly scratch themselves, clear their throat, and stretch in front of Dala until her biomed gel decoagulates. Dr. 8 also responds positively to graphic masturbation advice from Couriers of either gender. The X-8 research facility is ostensibly a massive immersive shrine to Doctor Borous's hatred of Richie "Ball-Lover" Marcus, a long-dead child who bullied Borous centuries ago. He also clings to his resentment of one Betsy Bright, who refused to attend a dance with him, supposedly so she could "go smoke with RICHIE MARCUS." Clearly arrested in development, Borous has literally built a temple to the fantasy of torturing his adolescent romantic rival and feeding him to dogs. His frozen, static characterization of the jock Richie Marcus as a "pinko-commie" who "likes balls" reflects the shallowness, pettiness, and overall misanthropy underlying his patriotic identity. It remains apparent throughout Old World Blues that the Think Tank are all chronically sexually repressed, which is inseparable from the values of the violent and judgmental pre-War culture which created them. With time and isolation, this ingrained repression has manifested as various intense and deranged psychosexual behaviors, including rage-fueled homophobia, voyeurism, and the obsessive performance of puritanical pretense.

____

“Although I’ve been out for a very long time, I made a conscious effort to be out with relation to this project, as I wanted to be visible as a lesbian in the game industry. New Vegas itself is, I think, one of (if not the) best games out there in how we treat homosexuality – and all of that is very intentional.”

“If my work on FNV, if my being out has helped even one gay person, then I have succeeded.” — Tess “Obsidian’s Gay Cowgirl” Treadwell

____

written (with help from other editors) for fallout.fandom.com/wiki/LGBT_representation_in_the_Fallout_series criticism welcome

[faetreides]

MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 

SHIT! 

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better. 

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations. 

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 

Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 

Fuck, not again. 

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait. 

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

 Some say that means it’s love. 

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 

“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant. 

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

[valsdelulucorner]

Asmo head cannons<3

He 100% steals you away from the others so you guys can have a spa day together, stress is bad for the skin darling and he couldn't possibly just sit there and let you stress with his brothers around!

Asmo loves doing face masks with you, it gives him a excuse to touch and admire your pretty/handsome face<3 now hush about you not liking your face, he still finds you absolutely breath taking darling

Asmo appreciates you a lot more then you ever know, he truly believes you were the first person to see past his sin and see who he was after he fell. He appreciates how you still love him despite him not being at 100%, he trusts you so much he shows you his imperfect self, showing you how vulnerable he is

Will absolutely cling to you if something scary comes on or if a devildom spider shows up. Oh no darling, he doesn't think they're scary, he just uses it as a excuse to hold onto you

Thrives on the fact that you love him despite him not being 100% perfect, it helps him build his confidence beyond what he portrays

He has freckles down his arms, back and face. His freckles are very faint so they aren't very noticeable but he views them as imperfections. He will cover the freckles over his nose and cheeks with foundation, he thinks they stand out like a sore thumb

You have freckles? Oh they are the cutest thing darling. Your self-conscious about your freckles? Oh he cant have that. He will kiss each of the freckles on your face softly and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. He's allowed to not like his freckles but your not allowed to not like yours, he doesn't make the rules

You don't like being touched or like the idea of sex? That is completely fine to him, he will find other ways to show his affection that isn't hugs, hand holding or kisses. He will most likely fall back on words of affirmation or acts of service.

If you don't like having your face in photos (He doesn't get why though, your face is drop dead gorgeous darling), he will always ask you before hand if its alright to post a photo with you there. If its just him and you, he will probably crop you out but @ you with something like "today was so fun<3". If its a large group photo, he will probably put a heart over your face.

If you come to the devildom as a nail Tech or a hair dresser, lord will he have a field day darling. Will absolutely steal you away and let you experiment on his nails, only if your gentle and don't ruin is perfect hands of course. If he sees you doing duck nails on him, depending on your relationship with him he'll sit through the session but file his nails down to anything else but duck nails

Despite his sin, he absolutely loves laying in bed with you and cuddling. Nothing sexual, no distractions, just gentle cuddling while you both talk about your day and gossip together. A kiss to the jaw here and then but overall, cuddling with Asmodeus would be so relaxing.

Omg the amount of times he would drag you out of the house to just go walk around and get coffee is insane. He would window shop with you for a while before finding a nice cafe to sit down and relax in. Your not allowed to even breath in the same direction of the food and drink before he takes a photo to post to his devilgram

if you have tattoos or piercings, he would absolutely love to dress you up in outfits that makes them pop. If you think you would be able to get away without letting him choose your piercings for the day AND leave without a photo, you'd be dead wrong darling

Asmo does not care how much you weigh, he will absolutely adore you and your body. He will manage to find clothing that will perfectly suit your body type and just shower you in complements, refusing to let you mutter a single bad word about yourself

Asmo is not violent by nature, we can see that in the game. If he hears anyone talking smack about him, he doesn't normally bat a eye. He knows he's better then lowlifes like them. If they talk smack about YOU or his brothers, crimson red was always such a pretty colour <3

He finds it interesting the way that humans appearances change so often, 100 years is barley anything to him so he likes to see how humans change and develop

Asmo would 100% wear horn and wing Jewlery, he is quite self-conscious about them so he likes to Bazzel them to distract from the depressing black. We know how he misses his white wings so he normally dresses with wings up with pink and white jewellery, giving him that comfort and familiarity.

"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful" "Till the day I die, Darling"

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

I absolutely love writing about the demon brothers, i feel like asmodeus gets looked over quite abit so i decided to give him some love<3 Who should i do next?

[reikaryu]

real eyes (realise) ft. minghao

pairing : xu minghao x gen!reader

summary : that moment it all made sense to you.

genre : drabble, fluff

warning(s) : a huge party with potentially drunk people, reader panics at some point, not proofread, 607 words

requested by @piakae : hi raebae! could you do a ‘moment of realisation’, reader and someone (you can choose idm) have that silent moment, maybe something dire happened, maybe something happy happened, and they just have a moment looking at each-other across the room realising they’re the only people for each other. can be friends to lovers or just lovers idm!! love you 😘

you’re only laying in his lap, body resting sideways to comfortably watch your favourite show on the television, when you remember the night so many moons ago.

one of his hands’ fingers are threading through your hair absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the screen before him. his other hand is stationed on your elbow, thumb rubbing circles at irregular intervals.

the coffee table between the television and the couch has two glasses of water on it, one with tiny droplets of water on the outer surface. both your phones are lying next to each other, screen dark as a result of your “do not disturb” modes turned on.

the room is dim; curtains drawn and the only source of light coming from the kitchen. the evening is a little chillier than usual, and when a slight wind blows, minghao senses your shiver and casually drapes his jacket over your frame — the very one he pulled from his closet just in case you got cold.

you smile.

──────

you were panicking, unable to think straight as you pushed through the overcrowded dance floor to search for the person who brought you to this party in the first place — also inconveniently the only one you knew.

you felt tears pooling in your eyes and you but your lip, willing them not to come out. you never did good in such a place with so many emotions and people. honestly, you thought minghao was like you, reserved and preferring to stay at home than go to a huge gathering.

but, yet again, you were wrong, because if he was like you, he’d still be by your side, anxiously whispering in your ear about the unusual amount of people he couldn’t recognise.

you sighed, alas giving up, and you began making your way toward the exit. a moment later, you realised how far into the room you ventured, having passed by too many couples or situationships dancing to count. the exit sign was now just a bright green line that constantly urged you to go towards.

your journey to the exit was, as expected, tough. you tried not to separate the couples having their fun with each other, no doubt making you uncomfortable along the way. you also tried to avoid those holding drinks, uncaring of whether the liquid spilled over the edge of the cup onto someone else.

god, you would never go to a party ever again.

you might have been half way there when you swore you heard someone call your name. but you ignored it, blaming it on your depleting social battery and overall energy. then you heard your name again, and this time it sounded desperate.

you heard it three times before you turned around, searching for the source. you couldn’t not be hallucinating — no one here knew you, as far as you could remember. except minghao.

oh.

your eyes widened suddenly, as if you saw a dead body come to life. they locked with a familiar pair, so close but so far. minghao was looking at you with all the worry in the world, and you swore you could see some silver lining his beautiful eyes. ones that seemed to hold the galaxy.

that moment could have made it to the top ten most cliché scenes in real life. two people staring at each other like they held the world in their hands.

your face held relief and joy. his was full of distress and longing as he pushed through the crowd. the very second you were in reach, he pulled you towards him and held you tight. you felt a tear drop onto your head.

happy new year everyone !! now that my school term has started, I’ll be a lot more inactive but I’ll try to post a fic once in a while :) blessing all of you with a great year ♡

taglist : @i520cm @piakae @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @f3v3rs @wonwoospartyhat @lesdevoeux @wonuulvr @svtcaratlove @amazingly-amazing-loser @ckline35 @woozarts @famouspoetrydinosaur @kokoiinuts @ahnneyong @kawennote09 @jcngh0-hq @marrgohh @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @sun-daddy-yoriichi @humankimbap @skztutu @bangtancritterrrr

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[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[somberjoon]

METANOIA [1]

✩ pairing: hybrid nj x hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 4.4k

✩ chapter warnings: mention of murder , uncertainty in behavior and emotions , 'pups' used as an overall label - children and breeds will be specified when important. (none of the mcs are parents)

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ...

✩ disclaimer: this is an opening chapter to the story. backgrounds and personality for the fmc are vague on purpose. You will go on this journey with her. The importance of events and scenarios will be later brought back up. Not everything is as it seems.

 Y/N - Unknown Time

Nobody really prepares you to kill someone. Not everyone will have a mentor that teaches you where to stab, where to shoot, where and how tight you need to push to crush a windpipe. But, sometimes you do get taught- unknowingly at least. You know skin is thin under a sharp knife, putting you much closer to vital organs than you would think. You know, at least, that you need air and blood to live- but, you also know you can take it. You can rid the body of its most vital necessities. 

As Y/N stands over the lifeless body of her once guardian- her now very dead guardian- she realizes that nothing could’ve prepared her for how easy it was. 

-

Kim Namjoon - Present Day

“There was a new case over the weekend Namjoon, we think you’d be great to be the first volunteer if you’d like.” 

Zade hands Namjoon a manilla envelope over the lifted counter that looms over the ‘Resource’ front desk. 

“I’ll take a look over it while I change. Would I need to do multiple stops today with the other kids on the list?” Namjoon tucks the envelope under his arm as he jots down his info into the volunteer sheet laid out for the day. A surprisingly long list of volunteer’s names gives him a little pep. 

“We actually have more volunteers than necessary, so the foster homes are double stacked today. You just have this one as a priority if you’re up for it- oh and this one is a little…special. I mean- they all are, but this one isn’t as young as you’re used to, so the boss told me to tell you to really read it over and consider it.” 

“Alright, thank you for letting me know. I’ll let you know in a bit.” 

The locker room is just slightly warmer than usual, evidence that multiple bodies have been in and out of the small space far more frequently than normal. 

He has no issue with it, if anything he’s excited to think of everyone getting the attention they need today, especially the younger kids that always look forward to young adults spending time with them. The foster homes have other kids, but the age range isn’t as large as one would hope in an adjusting environment. The young pups always need a variety of species and ages when they’re growing, especially when they don’t have a specified pack to normally grow with. 

Namjoon feels extremely lucky to have as large of a pack as he does, love circulating within a seven member pack is truly limitless- growing his need to give back to others with care and time. Especially the little pups that are sadly without a pack. He’s never done any volunteer work with anyone older than 18, and even then, the ones over 15 were too busy working when they wanted to or going to school during the day- so the time spent together was minimal. The younger pups always get the most attention, especially because those are the cards the organization is dealt. When pups become of age, they can choose to further their education, with funding help, or they can work until they figure out what they want to do, also being provided resources to find hybrid-friendly employers. If this case is older than usual, he’s curious to see just what could be the reason. 

Namjoon changes from his personal clothes into scent-less volunteer clothes. The simple t-shirt, jacket, and jeans allow for the homes to not be crowded with scents from a pack, but to allow the volunteer’s scent to be memorized and clear. He changes before he even decides on the case, knowing in his heart that if the case is in the organization’s hands they must need this adjustment and type of therapy in some type of way- making him the person that can help. He’ll always help when he has the chance. 

The manilla envelope is sealed with the customary buttons and string wrapped around to keep the paper in and harder to access than a normal folder. The direction of the string confuses Namjoon only a couple of times before he finally gets the papers out. 

Name: Y/N L/N    Sex: Female Age: 25     Birth Date: N/A    

Blood Type: N/A    Breed: Cheetah 

Immediate Reason for Admittance: Found resting under ‘Hope Bridge’ by a volunteer off-duty. 

Known Background: Parents unknown - Family unknown - Home unknown - Reason for lack of living needs unknown. 

Assigned Residence: Caddel Household - Maria Caddel, Richard Caddel - Under file for 4 months - 1450 Madison Lane, Tree County. 

Notes: Made by Dr. Selena Castillo 

‘Patient admitted without any resistance but shows signs of skittish behaviors. Patient seems to be unused to hybrid counterparts and interactions. Expedited tests still under review for any diagnosis / allergies, but immediate tests show no illness or disease. Slight chill and stuffy nose were only signs of sickness, specific medication given with no sign of allergy. No known vaccinations since birth, first round given to patient - 07/15/23 - day of admittance. Vaccinations may cause patience uncomfort and slight sickness as the adjustment period for vaccines is unknown for their body. Next vaccines needed after - 12/15/23. To be updated accordingly.’

Volunteers must be aware of body language of patient and person at all times - slow adjustment needed - report all incidents to the organization the day of.

Namjoon reads the paper over four or five times to get a really good grasp of who Y/N is, but nothing can prepare him thoroughly for this one- not even the notes know anything, no one has gotten any answers. He thinks of the work that he’s done previously, the pups he’s met and the difference in all of them but the basic underlyings that come with being a young hybrid. If Y/N is unused to hybrid counterparts, there is a chance that he can approach this with the same speed and attentive micro-expressions. 

He thinks and thinks, but nothing in him points to ‘no’, so he stuffs the papers back into the envelope and locks his stuff away in his personal locker before heading to the front desk. Zade and his adorable bunny ears perk up as Namjoon walks back towards the desk- reminding Namjoon of his little bunny at home that he misses so much. 

“So?” Zade asks, hopeful look in his eyes that also reminds him of his Jungkookie- it must be a bunny thing, because truly it is insane how similar they are in mannerisms. 

“Of course I’ll go.” Namjoon gives with a smile, “Can I get some extra note papers? I’ll make sure to take a lot even if we don’t get to anything drastic today. There aren't too many behavior specifics so I’d like to add to them.”

Zade fishes some papers in the top drawer of a file cabinet without a question. 

“Mila also wanted me to remind you to keep your phone on vibrate- they seem to have no knowledge of devices either, so sudden loud noises might be a trigger.” 

“Of course boss, don’t worry. I’ll message you when I get to the residence.”

He loves this county. It was the main reason he decided to search and wait for a large enough home for his pack here. The name is spot on. A variety of large trees allow their branches and leaves to billow over home yards by fours and fives, allowing sun to peek through while still providing shade for cool leisure in the hot seasons. It smells perfectly no matter where you are. The lawns are plush and soft despite the variety of species growing. It’s perfect really. And he finds it quite nice that Y/N has a place like this to enjoy nature in times of need. 

He passes his own street to get to the street where the residence is, a medium, dark blue house that has two trees in the front yard alone- the type has flaccid branches that seem to have dew drop leaves that rain down the branches and block the front of the house beautifully. 

He wastes no time organizing his papers into the jockey box and changing both his personal phone and work phone to vibrate after sending a quick message to Zade. He grabs the paper bag of goodies he picked up before he made it to his destination then hurries out of his car. 

The path to the front door is paved with an array of colorful rocks that also take Namjoon’s attention, admiring the details of the land. The off-white door had a glass pane design at the top, a bloomed flower. 

He gives a few light knocks to let the owners know that the company outside their door isn’t just a rushed mail man or delivery driver. It doesn’t take long for a kind looking woman to open the door with a smile. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Namjoon, I’m a volunteer with the hybrid re-homing organization. I’m here for the ‘recommended time with hybrid’ adjustment.” Namjoon gives his signature smile with dimples, his second ears twitching to make out the sounds coming from inside the home out of habit. 

“Oh! Of course, I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to the time. Come in, come in. There’s slippers for you right here.” Namjoon slips out of his simple dunks, noting the clean array of shoes and the clean foyer of the house. “Y/N’s just out back, she has been out there almost all times of the day since she got here.”

“It’s a beautiful neighborhood, I can see why. By the way, do you know what type of tree you have out front? They’re gorgeous.”

“Willows. Richard wants to cut them down because he hates cleaning up the leaves in Autumn, but I love them too much- plus it gets too hot and even he finds himself using their shade in the Summer.”

“I think keeping them would be lovely-” Namjoon finds the homeowner already heading towards sliding glass doors, “Mrs.Caddel-”

“Just Maria is fine, sweety.”

“Maria, I think it’s best that I start the meeting with those she’s familiar with, but once we get things going I’ll suggest verbally and obviously what my plans are, just so everything is clear for her and you guys. Is there anything I should be aware of before we head out? Like changes in behavior since she arrived, or triggers that you guys have noticed?”

“Oh, um not really, actually. She isn’t too talkative, she doesn’t initiate conversation easily at all and she’s not been reactive to anything specifically. She doesn’t like loud noises though, and doesn’t care to answer all questions. But, she’s friendly and considerate even if she doesn’t know it or acknowledge it for what it is. I think praise is great in those times.”

Namjoon is glad Y/N has someone so attentive to her unknown personality and needs. 

“That’s perfect, thank you. We should be good to go then. If you can introduce me yourself that would be great.” Namjoon’s smile lights up at her assured nod and continuance to the sliding doors. 

The backyard is a mirrored image of the front lawn but with more trees and a pretty, small garden that looks well-tended to. Even a large, above ground pool sits in the unshaded area of the yard, practically perfectly in the middle of the yard. 

“Y/N?” Maria asks loud enough for the whole yard to hear, but not loud enough to startle her. “We have a guest if you’re up to meet them, sweety.” 

Namjoon’s hearing can pinpoint in the yard where she’s at but he pays attention to the rest of the yard as not to look expectant for anything. 

He looks at the specific shade of stain on the fence as he sees little golden ears and the top of a head of dark brown hair that peeks around one of the larger trees. The dark, long, curly hair cascades off her shoulder. Namjoon only lets the bare details reach his conscience from the corner of his eyes as she still seems to be assessing him. 

“Ah, there she is.” Maria says with a smile as Y/N makes her way towards them at a leisurely pace. Namjoon still keeps his eyes on the horizon even if she’s at the perfect distance to assess. The only detail that he can point out at the moment is her gold and black tail, not waving or wrapped around herself in comfort, but dragging along the ground behind her as if she’s forgotten it. His heart clenches at the realization. She stops at a distance that seems cautious, but shows comfort with her guardian. 

“Y/N, this is Namjoon, he’s with the re-homing organization.” Namjoon finally meets her eyes to find her gaze locked on his ears, then moves to roam his features without hesitance. “He’s a…I’m sorry dear, I didn’t get your species or breed.”

“Wolf, Alexander Archipelago, to be exact.” 

“How precious, Namjoon meet Y/N.” 

Her eyes finally meet his, but they don’t tell Namjoon anything about how she feels or what she thinks of him and his wolf. His smile grows at her curiosity, though. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t know specifics- and I’m sorry to assume- but I brought some treats if you guys would prefer to sit down and talk?” Namjoon holds up the bag, giving it a little wave and his precious dimples for convincing. 

Y/N meets Maria’s soft, asking gaze and nods once before heading for the picnic table on her own to plop down. Maria gives him a discreet smile before waving him on to join. Before he sits opposite to the two, he pulls out a 6-pack of individual lemonades, pre-cut watermelon, pineapple, and cucumbers. 

“I tried for stuff that suits the weather and wouldn’t be too hard on the stomach. And- like I said- I didn’t want to assume, but one of the cheetahs I know loves watermelon, so I thought I’d try that at least.” 

Namjoon looks at them as he speaks, noting the pick up Y/N seems to slightly show at the mention of the watermelon and then again at the mention of another cheetah. This is the best way he could think of introducing himself. He always acts as himself, open and chipper, but gifts are even better. They’re memorable, even if it’s just a breed’s favorite food, a soft blanket or slippers, or a toy for the pups. 

Respectful comfort is also very important when in another person’s space. Showing that you open the things you got them to hand out and to talk in times of silence shows your want to be there and the excitement you have of being in their presence. Namjoon opens the bowls of finger food and even breaks the seals on the lemonades for convenience before setting them in front of them on the table. 

“Thank you, Namjoon.” Maria points out after he finally sits and grabs a piece of pineapple to pop into his mouth. 

“Of course, have as much as you’d like, it’s yours to keep if we don’t finish anything.”

Y/N - Present Day

He’s too kind. Too smiley. Too…perfect. 

“Of course, have as much as you’d like…” She’s never seen anyone like him. Pretty and nice. It’s never both, but- here is the first wolf she’s ever seen with the most perfect smile and manners. To be fair, she can’t compare him to all hybrids- she’s never been around them before- at least, she doesn’t remember. 

The opened watermelon takes her attention over the quiet talking between Maria and Namjoon. She truly doesn’t care about the conversation when it’s tempting her so badly. She’s extremely obvious, she knows it- but when Namjoon pushes the bowl discreetly towards her she can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. 

She takes a piece, nonetheless, sniffing the sweet aroma from the juice before popping the whole thing in her mouth at once. The taste is perfect, the piece is sweet, yet cold and crunchy. The juice explodes as she bites.

“Mmph-” The sound leaves her with no warning. She looks up from under her eyelashes at the new stranger, ears twitching to hear any change in his attitude upon bringing more attention to the sound. But- he doesn’t bring attention to it, only gives her another pretty smile and goes to take a drink of his lemonade. She’s never tried lemonade. She puts her attention on that, opening the bottle instead of daring to look at Namjoon’s exposed neck. She takes a small tentative sip, worried about how strong the citrusy smell is to her nose.

“Oh my god.” 

“Good, right?” Namjoon asks suddenly. She looks up at him, her own expression in awe. She can only nod as she takes a greedy gulp. “These are my favorite, I keep a ton of packs in stock at home.” Home. She can’t help but suppress a shudder at the word despite the mood being good. She pushes through though- determined to give something back since he’s been so nice. 

“I’ve never had lemonade before.” She gives just above a whisper, “I don’t like lemons, I didn’t know they could taste like this.” It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but she shocks a little when Namjoon giggles- actually giggles- at what she said. 

“Yeah, I had that problem starting highschool, that was when I finally had a school lunch for the first time. Sadly, that was not as pleasant as this.” Maria laughs, but Y/N can only give a small smile because she doesn’t know if the food would be bad. She’s not that picky but she didn’t even get to go to school or have their lunches, so she can only imagine the type of food that Maria teaches her to make. 

“Do you have more favorite foods?” Y/N asks quietly, curious, having to shove some curls out of her face to beat the sweat building on her forehead despite the love of the warmth. She shoves down the need to wipe the sweat just out of self-conscious habits. Everyone sweats, it’s hot- but, Namjoon looks perfect, and she somehow can’t get past that part. 

“Mmm-” His face contorts to show another expression she has never seen, a thinking face that scrunches up cutely. She looks away again and pops some more watermelon pieces into her mouth just so she doesn’t have to think too much about it. “I’m more of a beverage person, but I’ll eat literally anything my hyung makes- he’s great at cooking. Do you have any preferences?” 

Y/N barely has to think, the first word pulls itself out without warning. 

“Watermelon.” 

The prettiest smile she’s ever seen blooms on his face, one that hasn’t shown up yet. It’s the best one. 

“Fair enough.”

The snacks go by quickly with small answers and more distraction-aimed looks that stray away from Namjoon and lock onto the table under her crossed arms. It isn’t like the other days when she just feels like an empty-promised burden- this silence is formed out of uncomfortable, new feelings. 

Being this close to another hybrid- another prey hybrid that drives, has a job, and an education- is daunting. She feels like a foreigner to him in a way that can’t be described. Part of her wants to ask question after question while the other just wants to never see someone so perfect and put-together again to gain a semblance of pride. 

Her name from Namoon’s lips pulls her out of the thoughts. 

“Y/N, this yard is lovely, has great sun and shade- do you have a favorite spot?” 

He’d like to see her spot? That thought makes her ears perk up, an exciting nod giving Namjoon the answer. She’d love to show him her spot- she doesn’t know what that tells about herself- but she knows Namjoon would understand to some extent why her spot means so much to her. Having Namjoon in her spot sounds nice as well. 

“Could I see it? I’d love to see more of the yard.” It’s a hopeful smile, that much Y/N can tell. Nods are the only answer she can muster at this point, looking over at Maria to gauge her reaction.

“Go ahead sweety, I’ll clean up and get dinner started for Rich’.” 

“Okay.” 

That seemed to be the only queue everyone needed to disperse. Namjoon stands to let her lead the way with a small wave. 

Her favorite spot isn’t special, now that she thinks about it. It’s not a cozy spot to everyone, but to her it’s perfect. That should be all that matters, but why is she questioning it so much? 

The specific tree closes in on them faster than she was prepared, going around  it to stand on the side that faces the wooden fence. She turns to look at the tree and smiles- everytime she’s near it there is the slightest fuzzy feeling that she just can’t place. It’s larger than the width of their bodies together, wide enough for a whole other person of Namjoon’s muscly size to get close to the width of the tree. Its leaves create the perfect shade, but the best part is how climb-able it is. She usually climbs and perches perfectly into an indent that seems like it was made for her. 

“It’s massive- you like to sit at the trunk?” 

“No, uh-” She points up to the indent, a visible thing only to her mind. 

“Ooh, yeah, despite me being a predator I am actually a horrid climber.” 

The laugh rips from her before she can stop it. She slaps a hand over her mouth just over the fact that she really didn’t mean to laugh at him at what could be an insecurity. She looks over to him- nothing but an open-mouthed smile of disbelief.

“Look at you! Not all of us could be as nimble as the felines. There’s been more times than I can count that I had no problem going up, and even less problems coming down- at a very fast rate.” He laughs at himself, drawing even more giggles from Y/N. 

“We can sit at the trunk if you’d like.” She offers, then backtracks, “Well- if you’d like to er- if you’re staying longer?” Namjoon sits halfway through her rambling, patting the grass next to him as he leans his back against the trunk to look up at the sun filtering through the leaves. 

“I can stay as long as you’d like me to- or at latest until 6PM, that’s the limit for the volunteers.” Y/N sits as he answers, pulling her knees up to her chest to lay her cheek on when she asks another question.

“Do you volunteer often?” 

“I try to do it five times a week, on the weekdays usually.” Namjoon closes his eyes to feel the breeze pick up. 

“That’s- a lot.” 

“I love it. A lot of the time it’s little pups that just need someone to really take the time to learn about them and be their friends. Every hybrid deserves a chance to have someone like that. I like to be there for them.” 

She can only observe him in awe- his serene expression, the lightness in his aura that seems to want to push and push his calmness onto her. She doesn’t feel the way she felt when she first met Maria and Richard. She’s never met anyone and felt this- this instant connection of sorts that links them. Whether it’s because he’s the first hybrid she’s met, or he’s just that attractive, she can’t help feeling okay with him. 

“Do you- do you know about me? About- about why I’m here?” He opens his eyes to look over at her, gauging her expression.

“Not exactly, not-” He positions himself to sit up straighter and keep his head level as he looks at her. “I don’t know your story, I don’t know what you struggle with or what exactly you would like to talk about or seek out. But, we’re transparent at the organization. We get notes from the doctors and suggestions for how to approach someone we’re meeting for the first time. But- honestly- you haven’t told your story yet, so- No, I don’t know you.” 

His words sink in, letting Y/N think about what to do or say. She’s never had this before- but- she’s not ready to reveal everything, not now. 

“Will you come back? Here. Even if you don’t know me.” 

“I’d like to, If you want me to. That’s why I do this- to give every hybrid I can the chance to have someone that cares. Even in times of unknown.” Namjoon says, his open gaze not leaving hers. 

“I have never met someone like us before- or, I don’t remember if I have.” She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, looking up at the trees instead. “I want to learn about me, about us. I don’t know why I do certain things or have certain feelings. I don’t even know how to take care of myself properly and- and Maria, she tries, but she barely knows anything-” She stops. She can’t just ask him these things, she can’t beg for information if he doesn’t want to give it, especially if it’s personal. What if this is all too personal? 

“You can ask me anything, Y/N.” 

Namjoon answers her without getting any final question. He understands. Everything about him feels sincere. Everything feels as simple as the breeze with him. Why is it this easy with him?

“Then I’d like you to.”

Namjoon’s ears twitch to show he’s questioning what she means despite his expression not changing. 

“I’d like you to come back.”

Namjoon’s thick, black tail thumps a few times into the soft, plush-feeling grass. For the first time she actually notices it, the black hair that is well groomed unlike her own. It moves with him, it’s a part of him, through and through. She doesn’t know the first part of being anything like him, a hybrid. All she knows is her human half- she wants to know more. She wants to be both, she doesn’t want to ache for the other part of her any longer. 

[vleanne]

𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖾 c.s

Summary: The battles he grew to love so much since he was kid were the ones that took you away from him. The smell of blood and the yells of the injured and still he only sees you. There, one life ends…another begins.

Warnings: description of injuries, character death, overall angst

Author's Note: First time I'm writing for Cregan Stark and I'm choosing violence.

⤹The room was warm, the flames decorating the hard stone walls with sorts of shapes. It was a calm atmosphere, one you grew to love so much ever since you became the Lady of Winterfell.

Cregan, your husband, was resting behind you, his arms holding your body glued to his. The two of you were catching your breaths, courtesy of what took place only a few minutes ago.

The man nuzzled his face into your hair, placing lazy kisses on the side of your head and behind your ear.

"You really have to go?" Your voice was just above a whisper, feeling Cregan's heart with sorrow. He thought you already settled on the matter. It couldn't be avoided. The battle was inevitable.

He squeezed your body further onto his, his lips warm on your bare shoulder "I must do my part,my love…. there's no going back"

You shifted your body so you could face him. His beautiful face was so close to yours your lips touched. Grazing your hand on his spine and tangling your fingers in his dark hair "But it is…"

Cregan shifted his weight on his arm looking down at you, his eyes becoming glassy "No, it is not..my love I wished it was"

His soft lips captured your own, tasting the salty tears that started to fall down your face as he moved on top of you.

____

No this can't be happening….please

Cregan ran as fast as his feet carried him across the battlefield. Everywhere you looked a trail of dead bodies laid lifeless, covered in blood and dirt.

The gruesome scene however didn't compare to when he saw her. Just there.

His wife…

"No-"

The man abandoned his sword not carrying where it landed and sprinted towards his lady's,unfortunately,dead body.

Her dragon laid just beside her, with wings torn apart and spear ripped from his skin.

Cregan kneeled beside his wife, his Y/N.

The long hair, associated with snow, was nearly black from all things going on around her.

With trembling hands, he took her face in his palms, his fingers stroking her cold cheeks.

"My love please-"

He couldn't stop the tears from falling wildly from his eyes. His heart shattered when she didn't respond. Her eyes were closed, the long lashes of hers giving the impression that she was sleeping. How he wished that was true.

Cregan lowered his face so it could rest on hers "Don't leave me..my love please"

"Don't do this to me–don't go away"

His men were screaming for their lord. To give them instructions of what to do. Many were screaming from the pain of their injuries but for Cregan it was simply a faded sound.

Far from where he stood..he couldn't hear anything.

His throat was dry, and he couldn't breathe properly. He felt like someone plugged their claws in his lungs and ripped them apart.

Horrible..

"Lord! Please lord we need to go!" A man approached him, with his sword in his hand.

His face was flushed red and he was covered in sweat and mud "My Lord we need to go. They're coming"

Cregan didn't spare him a glance but he heard him loud and clear this time.

He looked down upon her body, admiring what it was once his.

How could she be still so beautiful after this merciless fight?

Cregan leaned down, taking her lips into his for the final time. He still hoped she would kiss back..that she would cradle his face with her hands and deepen the kiss.

When she didn't move, Cregan whispered a single "I love you" to his wife and got up.

His eyes were red and he could barely focus.

The guard bowed his head and handed his lord his sword.

Cregan took the weapon from him and went to join the rest of his men.

He didn't look back, not once. He didn't dare.

Only when he reached the castle did he allowed himself to breathe.

Seated in the throne room, he looked ahead of his fellow devoted men "What are we to do know, lord?"

Cregan twisted his wedding ring on his finger giving one final statement "We kill them all. For our friends, for our families..for our loved ones…for her"

- there, one life ended so another could begin-

[skyguythings]

Being in a relationship with Anakin

Man is so touchy: whenever there’s people, you will likely find his arm hanging over your shoulder in a « friendly » way, gets closer to you when talking… things that pass off right as « we’re close friends » and would fool no one if he wasn’t a Jedi

but at the second you both have no one looking, he snakes his hand between yours and intertwines your fingers

Always makes you hold his non-metallic hand: whether you have warm or cold hands he doesn’t care much, he just wants to feel your skin against his 

He has huge insecurities in your relationship as he knows he can’t provide the best for you: he would love to happily flaunt you on his arm, take you out to dinner, parties, calmly walk hand in hand with you, take you on dates on a whim, promise to live together, maybe even one day build a family if you’re up for it but instead of that, he has to hide you and it just kills him

So when he is insecure, he tends to get jealous and it’s not because he doesn’t trust you, he just cannot fathom why you would ever choose him when you could choose people who can give you « what you deserve » 

Definitely had multiple fights about that because he can’t see his self-worth when it comes to you. The aftermath, all you can ever do is just remind him of your love as you let him calm down

When you two have huge fights, Anakin gets very distant and silent (he would hate himself if he raised his voice against you), leaving from hours or days depending on the reason of the fight 

It’s the worst as you have no idea where he could have gone, no access to him if he’s at the Temple and no specific reasons to contact anyone to help them locate Anakin, which always leaves you in a state of worry and Anakin definitely knows as he can’t help but check up on your Force signature as soon as he calms down a little

The worst that happened during a fight between the both of you was him being deployed right after

Anakin had been called urgently, leaving without a word to you as the mission wasn’t supposed to take too long… that is until some sightings of Count Dooku happened and he had been stuck for more than a month, with no way of making contact with you without blowing up his cover

The fight you two had was long forgotten on both of your minds and all Anakin could feel was a deep sense of regret as not having said his proper goodbyes: he just wanted his mission over with to go back to you 

On your side, not only did you feel the guilt of not having seen Anakin leave but you felt even more stressed as there were literally no news about his mission

It’s not like you had many people to ask to begin with, but it was starting to make you feel anguished and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness run through you: how shitty is it not being able to at least know if the one you love is alive?

As always there were rumors of the Chosen One, the Infamous Leader having being killed on mission but you couldn’t help but scoff at those, tryin your best to keep your hopes up: surely someone would have at least informed you if Anakin was dead? At least Ahsoka, who knew you were friend with him right?

Still your sleep quality and overall living standards had been reduced as weeks passed by… so you were currently sat in your living room, sipping on your favorite drink at 3am and vaguely reading a book, hoping it would put you to a dreamless sleep when you heard the crack of your door opening

Immediately looking up, you felt your heart swell up when you took in Anakin’s body coming into your view: you discarded your drink, immediately crossing the distance separating you both as he walked towards you as well

He took you in his embrace, tucking you right into his arms and keeping you there with his metal hand cradling you on the small of your back, his other hand going up to neck immediately, checking your pulse without even noticing it

Some might not expect it but the both of you will probably apologise: it doesn’t matter what the fight was even about because there is a war and you are at a risk of losing him at any moment

This one time leads to one of the best right with him though

Also! Expect plenty of kisses from him because make-up sex

He loves when you let your lips trail softly on his face and specifically on his scar: it makes his eyes flutter shut as he concentrates on the lightness of your action 

But what he loves giving you is forehead kisses, just a tad bit too long to not seem overprotective when people are around, or cheeky hand kisses with a smirk and a wink

He really wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to the people he genuinely likes and he never hesitates to show that he cares, to a deep extent

People always comment on the fact Anakin is noticeable in the Force but rarely on the fact due to his midichlorians, he perceives much more from everyone around him: he had to learn to tune that out but when he is specifically tired, there are times when he can’t ignore the rest and he just gets hit by waves of feelings all over

When this happens he tends to just gets himself locked up somewhere and work on his droids for as long as it takes to drown the rest of the world and focus on something he can work on without having to overthink

It’s surprising how delicate he can be when it comes to handling little pieces to fix: he is always very posed and you have difficulties to come to terms this is the same person who jumps had first into dangerous situations who is now hyper-focusing on every single detail to make the droid work perfectly

But that’s nothing compared to the care he put in making you a necklace: he decided to melt a few pieces of metal into tiny beads that he carefully crafted. And while this whole process could be made quicker by using the Force, he wanted to see it through himself, and he is so proud when he can offer it to you

Talking about that, Anakin strikes me as someone whose temperature runs a little bit higher than the normal person so sleeping with him means you have your own personal heater right next to you

He is definitely a sucker for any type of skinship you can provide but he does have favorite stuff: hugs. And you can expect many types of hugs from him

Middle of the night hugs: when he has a nightmare, no matter what he always ends up whimpering and in those instance, you wake up. It takes a little moment but you found that taking him in your arms and letting him lay his head down on your chest while playing with his hair always gets him to a relaxed state: he dozes off again pretty much each time, just listening to your steady heartbeat knowing you’re there with him, safe and sound

Tired hugs: He is coming back from a mission worn down, half dead and his first instinct is to ant to go to you and just skip the council all together but he knows he can’t… but you can be sure that the second he leaves the forsaken place, he is coming at yours and there is no moving his arms away from you: he wraps you up in a hug by the waist and bruises his nose in your hair, just inhaling deeply for a while

He doesn’t even realize how long he stays like that and you probably have to move against him to at least take a seat but he’ll stay coddled up to you here as well, like a huge cat

You can also bet you’ll be getting celebratory hugs whenever something great happened to him or you. Whether you wished to keep your joy a surprise or not, Anakin is highly attuned to your feelings and just feels the joy radiating from you, mirroring it as soon as he perceives it and when you come to tell him the great news, he just impatiently takes you in his arms and spins you around a few before letting you down and pressing his nose to yours, giving plenty of kisses all over your face and whispering how proud he is of you for having done something you’re happy about

Don’t get me started on Anakin and carrying the one he loves pretty much anywhere

It’s not necessary by any means, he knows it and you know it but he also has enough of a physique to be able to do that and it just makes him smile genuinely to bend a little and scoop you up into his arms on a whim (and it’s nearly become a reflex to just carry you whenever to the point he did it in front of people and had you pretend you were feeling faint just to cover up the mistake)

This man suffers from a serious lack of compliment so don’t hesitate to give him many: yes he might have some kind of ego but it doesn’t hurt to remind him that he actually has qualities and that yes he is lovable 

[liasadventuretime]

can you write aftercare with evan/tate? like the reader being really sore after and him helping her/comforting her🥺

thank you! can even be a blurb or something small if you’re interested

✦ EVERYTHING'S OKAY

PROMPT ➜ daily quickies very nothing out of the ordinary for you and tate, but you sometimes crave his affection more than anything.

TAGS ➜ tate x reader, fluff, comforting, insecurity.

you were pretty much used to having sex with tate in the most unusual moments. before school, while studying, while your parents were in the house. but this time it was different, because there was no one to disturb your peace. it was a Saturday morning, one of your favorite days of the week and you had no upcoming tests so you could use the weekend to actually relax. it was raining in the morning, which was no surprise since it's the end of November, and Christmas was coming up. the sound of the rain wetting your window was calming. this was the first Christmas you could spend with tate together. the last times you celebrated Christmas were awful because your parents were always arguing for some stupid shit. they always took the first chance to complain about the other, or make snaky comments about each other. it always ended with you going to your grandparents house while they sorted things out.

this was also the first Christmas that you wouldn't spend with your grandparents, and you were actually kinda sad, because even tho being with them on such a special day meant no good you were still grateful that they were always there for you, and getting anything you needed. at least you have tate with you, and you couldn't ask for a more perfect boyfriend. he wasn't such an expert on aftercare, you always used to have quickies and there was absolutely no time for anything other then a hug and a kiss on the forehead, or him whispering sweet nothings into your ear. this time, you had all the time of the world. he has always been the submissive one of the relationship so you were a bit embarrassed to ask him if you two could spend a few hours together cuddling and talking, let's just say overall comfort each other.

he got up from the bed, still naked while you observed his beatiful back muscles, still lying on the bed. god, this man was so gorgeous. he was still in boxers, when he leaned on your face and kissed you on the forehead as usual. it wasn't something you've ever specifically asked for, but tate does observe your reactions and body language. he actually cared about you, because you were actually different. you probably would exchange him to be able to have one minute chat with Robert Pattinson, but at least he never had to fake a laugh around you. he could be weird, annoying, paranoxious sometimes even worth killing but he never felt so comfortable around someone. he would do anything for you.

anything.

"hey tate ?" it almost felt like a whisper, you barely could hear yourself. for some reason your heart was about to jump out of your chest. it felt as if you were having a panic attack.

"yeah ?" he replied back in a monotone but caring way, you could just feel how tired he was from his voice. he hadn't been eating a lot, always smoking, always sleeping and big dark bags under his eyes. he said it was probably just the seasonal depression, but you always made sure he was okay.

"do you mind if we spend a bit of time together ? we can do whatever you want, watch a movie, take a bath, you choose." you didn't want to sound desperate but at the same time you've been craving some affection recently. he just felt more cold, as if u were having sex with a dead man who could talk. almost like you were having sex with a corpse. you've been feeling pretty lonely, but was it really his fault ? I mean he's going thru a hard time shouldn't you be the one to comfort him in such situation ?

distracting you from your paranoid thoughts was him jumping on the bed, furiously taking his shirt off and getting under the covers. you were a bit confused until he brought his hands to your waist and hugged you. he positioned his head on your shoulder, caressing your neck with his nose. you relaxed not realising you were anxious. but you couldn’t even sort out what you were anxious about. tate was so caring, and never treated you badly. 

“why didn’t you tell me that before ?” he asked you in a calm reassuring tone.

“I don’t know... maybe I was scared of your reaction ?” you said, immediately feeling stupid about what you just said because he still hasn’t given you any reasons to feel that way. you were also scared to make him feel guilty or insecure about something he shouldn’t be guilty or insecure of. you felt him positioning his back on the pillow. you rolled to look at him. 

“you were scared ... of my reaction ??” he had one of the most confused looks on his face. for a second you stopped thinking to appreciate how much this man was pretty. he had the rosiest prettiest cheeks ever, he had those beautiful eyes that could make anyone fall to their knees. he had the best hair ever, you absolutely loved the way it felt between your fingers, tugging it while he was between your legs making them shake or just cuddling before you had to go to school. his smile was the most angelic one you’ve ever seen, but something that even made it better was feeling it on your clit while trying to not make too much noise by putting your hand on your mouth. 

he caressed your cheek with his thumb making you snap out of your limbo, looking up at him. “why would you ever be scared of my reactions ? did I do something ?” you exactly did what you were scared of. you made him worry about something that wasn’t under control. 

“no, but I was scared that you would feel like I'm annoying or too needy, I don’t know I just didn’t know what to think or do or say” he looked at you with a more relaxed expression on his face. he pulled you and placed your head on his chest, guiding his hand to your hair. you stayed in that position for a while, both of you not knowing what to say just enjoying each other’s company. you both were very needy people, always needing reassuring and fiscal affection. you were a perfect match. 

the cigarette of the smoker

the rubber band of the cash

the light to the match

you were made for each other, there was nothing in the world that could make you feel better than him. he wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t either. yet when you were together, you were one thing. one soul match. one flame. one perfect thing, because you didn’t complete each other but you were two pieces of a puzzle that matched perfectly. without any type of forcing.

he picked you up and placed you on his lap, got his shirt and put it on. you took off your shirt and bra, and slided Inside his shirt placing your head on his chest. he thought it kind of made the two of you be one single thing. one single soul. you felt him trying to snake his arms around your back so you snaked yours around his. this is maybe the first time you felt warm hugging him. the world stops as soon as he touches you. all your worries ? gone. that’s the type of person you would like to keep around for the rest of your life. you felt this bubbly floating sensation in your stomach, that you’ve been feeling since the first time you two met. 

you both fell asleep in that position, waking up two hours later. it was still raining, but the house was warm. your parents were going to be out of town for a while so now you could spend a bit more time with tate, doing whatever you liked. the house was in complete silence, you could only hear your breath and his. 

tate woke up but he found you still sleeping. this man was so in love, he could look at you for the rest of his entire life. he took the shirt off, placing you on the bed with only some panties on, while he went to the bathroom and got the shower ready. he got in, and as soon as u woke up, you realised he wasn’t on the bed anymore. you heard the shower running so you went in the bathroom. the pavement was cold and you weren’t wearing any socks but you didn’t mind. 

you took off the last piece of clothing you had on and got in the shower, he looked at you with a slight smirk on his face which made you smile a bit. you hugged him, and even tho at the beginning he was surprised by your gesture, he held you as thigh as possible. caressing your back, you never thought you could find someone like him. yet you did. 

[https-siren]

-.Cornflowers and Kismet.-

Cw: Angst, Character "death," female reader hinted but can also be seen as GN, the reader has a plant quirk, overall just fluff, some mental health issues mentioned (not very prominent) minor to severe angst. Friends to lovers (?) some abuse mentioned (parental, both mental and semi-physical) (Messed up the timeline so Touya goes missing much later than the actual Canonic manga/storyline) Brief mentions of Enji Todoroki. Todoroki Family Abuse lore semi relavent.

NOT PROOFREAD

shoutout to my friend for helping me choose the flowers in this fic!

A little bit "rushed" idk tho ;-;

You and Touya have been friends since you were around 6-7 years old, When you found him throwing rocks at your window, leading your hand outside, you knew your life would change from then on.

Fate or Kismet, is the strangest thing. How can you just find somebody and want to stay with them forever?

The fateful night when Touya came to your doorstep was when you were only 13 years old. Hearing a small tap that came from your window made you anxious, as you feared a possible break in.

Peering out the window you noticed the familiar figure of Touya, his white locks and his blue eyes always identified him. You creaked open the window and shouted, "Meet me at the front door Touya!" You then creaked open the front door, and there he stood, with an eager smile, tinting his eyes with childlike urgency.

"Hey, walk with me for a little?" He asked smile on his face.

"At this hour?" You questioned with a small yawn.

"Just trust me! I promise nothing will happen! Plus if you come with me I can show you the surprise I have planned!" He said hand extended for you to grab, if and only if you took his questionable offer into mind.

Intrigued you gladly placed your hand in his. Wondering what this surprise could be.

He led you through the woods that coated your backyard. He led you to an opening, one that seemed to be created by him and his flames.

He let go of your hand and grabbed something perched up on the tree branch behind him.

"Suprise," he said while holding out a small bouquet of flowers.

Cornflowers

"I love them Touya," you said, examining each petal, and taking in the delicate glow they presented you with.

The happiness you two held in that moment was the experience of a lifetime, unfortunately, the loud yelling of Enji, ruined everything.

"Touya! Where are you?!" "If you're training I'll make sure to break your legs this time."

Touya's smile ultimately faded in the moment. "I need to head home." "Get home safe, I'll call you in the morning." He said while slowly turning around to walk home.

You, yourself headed home as well, holding the flowers in your hand, careful not to damage any pebbles.

When you reached home, you kicked off your shoes, and went straight to bed.

When you woke up in the morning you awaited his call. But strangely it never came.

Concerned, you decided to head off to the Todoroki Household.

Maybe he overslept? Maybe he forgot to call you? These questions puzzled your mind beyond belief.

When you reach the household, you notice the utter silence, which was strange for such a large family.

Walking to the front of the house you noticed something that made your heart drop, three police cars. Concerned you knock on the door, but you aren't greeted by Touya, Enji greets you instead.

"Touyas not here." "He's been missing since last night." He said with a somber look that was relatively out of character. As you know the horrors he committed behind closed doors.

Your chest feels heavy, and you're unable to speak, as the shock of the moment has paralyzed your body.

"There was a fire in the forest last night. Touyas' been pronounced dead." He continued. The shock of this news not registering correctly in your mind.

"Go home." "I'll call your parents when the situation dies down."

You were then met with the slam of the Todoroki family's front door.

You started to walk home. Your mind finally processing the gravity of the situation. Your best friend was gone.

When you reached your front door, your parents' car had returned to its original place. For they were home. You prepared yourself for a barrage of questions, as you slowly pried open the door. You were surprised to find your mom hugging you. "I heard about Touya, if you'd like to talk I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready." She said while breaking the hug and then walking back into the kitchen.

Not wanting to talk you headed back to your room. Opening up the door and closing it behind you only to see the flowers he left behind you, piercing your mind with thought.

What had really happened?

...

The first few weeks without Touya were an absolute hell. You didn't have the energy to do much of anything. You simply lay there, in your room, reading all the text messages you had sent to him the day he went missing.

Touya, I miss you. The police have pronounced you dead. But I know you're still out there. I can feel it. Please come home.

Touya it's been a week. Where did you go? Why did you have to leave me?

Just come home.

...

The first hard weeks turned into months with minor incidents, to six years of you trying to drown his disappearance by other distractions. Since you had a plant quirk, you did your best to keep the original bouquet of flowers. A singular petal wilting would send your mind into panic mode. You wanted to keep his memory alive.

You have moved away from home since then. Not a relatively long distance. Just one that was away from any major forests.

Staring at the flowers in your new home inspired you to replant the flowers. Not just in your home, but you'd plant them in an intricate pathway. From the opening he made in the forest for you, to your new home. So maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to find you again.

...

It didn't take long until the pathway was formed as your quirk cut down the planting and growing time by half. You waited until nightfall and the glow still resided.

You waited a few days, no signs of him. After a few weeks, no sign of him.

For it would be months until you saw him again.

One night you heard the same tapping noise on your window. You brushed it off as it was relatively windy that night. A louder tapping noise snapped you out of your doubt. Somebody was outside.

You looked out your window. White hair? Blue eyes? It was Touya.

You darted out your front door.

"Hey, beautiful." He said while you quite literally sprinted towards him.

Pulling him in for a hug, tracing your hands on his scars. You really did miss him.

For once you finally felt safe.

Kismet had brought you together again once more, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

TYSM for reading!!!!

[genderkoolaid]

Honestly, there’s something that I’m struggling with, I’m like salmacian, and I have bottom dysphoria, that’s like really really really bad, and I’m planning on getting bottom surgery, but honestly, I kinda don’t know how I’m gonna deal with the whole isolation aspect of it all. Cause like, the queer community HATES us bro, so while I love the idea of finally feeling free in my body it sucks because it makes me feel like I have to choose between my life and my community; my bottom dysphoria has been making me wanna kms, I mean like literally curl up in a ball and drop dead, and then you see people on Twitter and shit saying “if you feel dysphoria in this way you *SHOULD* kill yourself” and that’s really challenging for me, I can’t really go to irl queer spaces or transition right now (toxic family situation) but it’s crazy for all these queer spaces to be about “being your true self” just “NOT LIKE THAT” I hope IRL queer spaces will be better, but like I can’t just die because other queer people don’t like my dysphoria, but it’s also kinda hard to find others like me.

Like, what do I even do here?? Do I just pretend I’m cis? Do I publicly ID as nonbinary and pretend I’ve never had bottom surgery, do I pretend I’m like binary transmasc, and also like, in this vein, I think it’s funny (horrible) how nonbinary people literally get hate no matter what we do, we don’t transition? Then we’re bad cringy transtrenders and the reason cis people hate trans people, we transition? We’re evil incarnate, we just can’t win lmaooo. 💀

First of all, I’d recommend distancing yourself from spaces that promote anti-salmacian bigotry and trying to engage yourself in online pro-salmacian spaces as much as possible. Do whatever you have to in order to disconnect from the people who hock the idea that salmacians are bad or salmacian transitions are somehow immoral. If you haven’t checked out r/salmacian, I would highly suggest it– its the biggest (and really, only) community of salmacians I’m aware of and it can be really refreshing to be in a space entirely centered around us and our desires and needs. Connecting with other salmacians can be so healing, especially getting to see people who have physically transitioned and reminding yourself that it is possible to have that body and be happy. It also reminds you that there are so many of us out there– pretty much everytime I talk about being salmacian on here, I see new people who have never realized that “its a thing” and there’s a word for it. It is so much more normal to be salmacian than bigots will make it seem. 

This post on the subreddit talks about dating as salmacians, and the consensus seems to be that the trans dating scene seems to be pretty accepting of salmacians– obviously that’s not going to be the case everywhere, but weird queers have existed since time immemorial. When you are surrounded by (especially online) regressive bigots, it really warps your view of reality and makes it hard to truly believe that that isn’t the universal standard. Its near impossible to thrive when you are in the situation, which is why its so vital to surround yourself with proof that that isn’t the standard. I promise you that you will be able to find a community that will find the idea that your dysphoria is “evil” to be fucking ridiculous and support your salmacian identity– you might even find other salmacians, or help other people realize its an achievable option! 

I strongly agree with how nonbinary people get treated re: transitioning. Obviously binary people are not overall treated better but it really does suck there’s no way to be nonbinary that doesn’t involve hate– either you don’t transition (or don’t “really”/”fully” transition) and get seen as a transtrender who doesn’t know what its REALLY like, or you have a “weird” transition and get treated like a weird fetish-chaser or a TLC short and not, like, a person who just wants to control their own body. Tbh I would love to see more nonbinary/genderqueer-centered community stuff, along with more discussion of exorsexism that isn’t just “diet transmisogyny/transandrophobia” or “general transphobia.” Ik a lot of post-bottom surgery trans people feel disconnected from the trans community, and I myself have thought about how I’m going to go about… engaging with others and identifying myself post-op. Honestly I would love a salmacian4salmacian relationship but idk if that will ever be in the cards!

& when it comes to salmacians & exorsexism there’s so much stereotyping us as horny freaks (which is a bad thing apparently!) whose dysphoria/euphoria is Evil and Twisted and like… 1. thats just Transmisogyny 2: Electric Boogaloo 2. as if its our fault that 99% of salmacian rep is in fetish porn, so there are so many of us whose only exposure to the concept of being salmacian is through that lens. Or as if its inherently evil to feel sexually satisified with a body that brings you joy? (also this doesn’t even get into the way that so much discussion around transness is not prepared for altersex transitions & the reality of nonbinary people who are physically androgynous and how no, you can’t just slap binary theory onto our bodies and assume its going to cover our experiences, which is why while I would not call myself intersex I do feel a strong sense of solidarity with intersex people bc of the shared “stop assuming your forced rebinarization of myself and my body is okay or coherent”… but anyways!)

I’d love to see a stronger salmacian community, and know that you (or anyone else!) can send me asks about being salmacian, whether to learn more or for advice or just to share experiences/vent and I will be overjoyed to respond. I love talking about being salmacian and helping other people learn about it.

[delafiseaseses]

Thinking about Passwords found in Fallout New Vegas

For some reason I just remembered that Big Sal's password. Which is: D@ddyZH0M3!

An... interesting choice of password. Provide's an extra bit of characterisation to Big Sal.

And it got me thinkin' about the other password notes in the game. Every password tells somethin' of a story, I reckon. So, let's go over the other ones I can find that have notes that actually display the password (and we're, of course, thinkin' about placed passwords, not the hacking minigame).

First that comes to mind is Raul's password for his cell that he puts in a terminal entry near his cell, looking at it creates a note that reads it: 123456789

Raul didn't care, and it provides some humour.

Next is the Overseer's password, found in Vault 34 on the Ghoulified Overseer's body after death. It reads: Sunflower

That's an interesting password for a man who presumably lived his entire life in a Vault with no such flowers. Gives me an almost melancholy feeling, that password.

Staying on Vaults, Vault 3's overseer had a password given to you by Fiend prisoner Rick Lancer. It doesn't just have the password, it has a preamble before it. The note reads: The password for the Overseer's room in Vault 3 is: 1L0V3B@Nana5

I Love Bananas is also the name of the quest to rescue Rick, Rachael and Dennis from Fiend captivity in the Official Game Guide (not that I'd trust that guide as far as I could throw it given what it says about Goodsprings). I don't know why the password is I Love Bananas written like that. Out of game, I think it must be a joke from a dev. In-game I'd guess it's a sign the Vault 3 Overseer knows how to choose a password nobody would guess since, y'know, if the Overseer George Stault chose it after election before the Fiends killed him, he'd have grown up in a place that had no bananas (the alternative is that it was the password of the first Vault 3 Overseer nobody bothered to change).

Next is the Hidden Valley self-destruct password, this is from when you generate the password via the keycards, I'm not gonna check if it shows up if you use science instead: From my cold, dead hands.

That's an interestin' 'un. Apparently the phrase is a slogan associated with the NRA in America? I had no idea. You reckon that chosen by the Brotherhood at Hidden Valley or was that the default password for the bunker? Both would fit, I think. And overall there's a decent amount of style to a self-destruct sequence password being that.

Anyway, that was a little diversion thinkin' about passwords we know and can find in New Vegas. Needless to say, if any of those are your password: Change it to somethin' that isn't in Fallout New Vegas (especially if its Raul's password).

In fact, change yer passwords anyway. They say y'should do that every few months. If that's all y'get outta this post, it'll've been enough, I reckon.

[animatedjunkfood]

Sonic Prime Spoiler - Sonic and Nine Episode 6

I have the scene symbolism comprehension of a monkey so excuse me if it was already SUPER obvious but-

The Grim had an orange VS blue color scheme. A very common color scheme overall but used here to reference the clashing of Sonic’s and Nine’s endgame goals and contrary ideologies that come to the forefront in this scene.

Sonic wants to make it back home, to his real home. But he’s also not the kind of guy to just sit back and watch others suffer; so, regardless of if it helps him accomplish his main desire or not, he’s going to meddle in every world where he sees trouble.

Nine wants to make a new home, his first home, and he wants Sonic to be a part of it. He grew up in a world that never cared about him, so he’s long past given up on caring about it. Anyone and everyone can go burn for all he cares as long as he gets what he wants.

While they both express themselves to each other here, it doesn’t feel like either of them are actually accepting it. They’ve both put blinders on.

Sonic doesn’t want to accept the kind of person Nine is. For example, he was told Nine betrayed the Rebels, but Sonic vehemently defends him because the kinds of actions they claim he did isn’t something Tails would do. 

But guess what Sonic?

Did Nine take the Paradox Shard for himself? Yes. Did Nine leave the Rebel, Knux, and Rusty Rose for dead? Yes. Did Nine swoop into the middle of a desperate struggle just to grab Sonic and leave without helping? Yes. When Sonic outright asks him to come join the fight, what does Nine say? He says no.

On the other hand, Nine won’t acknowledge that there is zero chance Sonic would choose to stay with him (and only him) forever. While Sonic never says anything outright, Nine isn’t an idiot. It’s clear by his facial and body expressions what Sonic thinks of the Grim plan. That, and he knows Sonic is desperate to put his own reality back together (he said so right before getting warped away in ep3).

But after this Sonic goes back to New Yolk first with Nine joining in later, and what do they say to each other?

Sonic says he knew Nine would come back - there was no way Tails Nine would abandon people in need (even if he hated them.)

Nine says once this is over he’s going back home and Sonic is free to join - he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t feel like there was still a possibility of Sonic saying ‘yes’ just because Sonic technically never said ‘no’. 

Besides that, Nine also has one more thing going for his ‘new home plan’. Even if Sonic’s main goal is to get back to his original home, Nine doesn’t think that it’s possible or never considered how to ‘fix’ it in the first place. It shows in the way he calls it “the home you lost”. It’s lost. It’s already gone, there is no saving it. Sonic has no where to go back to, so why wouldn’t he stay with Nine?

[creaturefeaster]

can mimes feel any form of love towards the living / unliving or vice versa ??

Yes they can. It is very rare to see however, just because of the sheer differences they face in understanding each other & how either party expresses love.

Mimes are eons old, and they often have a very hard time fully understanding what it is to be alive, as well as what it means to feel organic love. For the mimes, the living cast have been alive for a mere fraction of their existence, equivalent to the time it takes to blink. The living have difficulties parsing mime's love language in turn, as well as how they choose to behave overall.

But still, it is not impossible. A mime can learn to understand the ways of life if they are committed and intune enough with it, but they would have to actively choose to want to love in the way the living does. Within their lifetime, a living being will likely not ever be able to learn how mimes love in full, so this compromise is necessary if true love between the two parties is to be achieved.

Holly for instance tries very hard to understand organic love, but in vain as she fails to grasp on a deep level why it is that the living behave the way they do when they are in love. Reasons for physical touch, curated communication, the sensations deep within one's chest that drive the way they feel about another person-- this is all lost on her and it's unlikely she'll figure it out soon enough before the living have been wiped out.

And the living, take a human for this example-- A human may be able to feel as though they love a mime, in their own way. If they believe they've connected with the mime a human may very easily harbor these feelings, but mimes have their own needs when it comes to love that a human could not possibly help with. The way colors haze together, the telepathic-like communication, the desire to feed and to be fed knowledge and thoughts endlessly to and by their partner, these realm-specific expressions aren't things the human could comprehend. So again, it is the mime that would have to compromise.

Then comes the issues with lifespans. Mimes do not die by age, while most living do. An undisturbed mime will outlive any organic life. The undead such as vampires which also do not re-die by age may be more suitable candidates, but even then a vampire would be doomed to parish first in such a relationship because if they manage to outlive all other life, they have outlived their entire food source and would die shortly after.

Hosting is a way for a mime to understand organic love a little better, as well as enabling them to be more physically intimate if they wish, but then you run into the problem of the living being generally adverse towards hosted mimes. That's somebody else's dead body they're lugging around. Yes, reactivated, but for many a living being that is a little too high of a hump to get over for the sake of love.

I maybe went a little too indepth about this, but ultimately it's possible, just incredibly difficult and unlikely.

Most attemts at a mime/living relationship would end up with the mime having to feign parts of organic love for the living's sake, and in turn feeling unfufilled as a human can't give back what love the mime craves.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Bad Batch Finale Analysis

Spoilers for TBB Season 2

Tagging some people who want to see some longer analyses: @saturn-sends-hugs @phis-writing @eriexplosion @heyclickadee @questforgalas @panther-os

So... that was a lot. We all have many feelings about things and I'm not sure anyone really knows how to express them. I'm not entirely sure where I stand on some things, so I don't totally know how I feel about these episodes overall, but I can say that I liked them. They're not my favourite of the season, but I did still enjoy them (as painful as they were).

I'm going to try and break down some of my thoughts about bits of the episode, but I don't know how coherent this is going to be. I've been jotting things down in my phone when they come to me, so I'm going to attempt putting them in a slightly more organised order, but no promises.

Probably best to get the heavy bit out of the way first.

Is Tech dead?

No. At least, I don't think so and there are a few reasons for this. The first is that we don't see a body and if we've learnt anything from Star Wars, is that no body = don't trust that they're dead. And even if we do see a body, we can't always trust it! (Looking at you Maul). The second is that he was found by Hemlock. Seems a bit suspicious that he happened to be found by the guy who likes experimenting on clones is it not? I'm sure he'd be happy to scoop Tech up and take him to do whatever awful experiments he has planned. Sorry, but the goggles aren't proof that Tech is dead. Hemlock is probably just throwing them out to break the Batch's resolve and put them in a more vulnerable state.

And the final reason is that if he is dead, it's really cheap. We've already discussed how members of the Batch dying this season wouldn't work particularly well narratively. For a death like Kanan's, it happened near the end of the show, where it made sense for his story to end. It doesn't make sense for Tech's to end here. And yes, an argument can be made that death is unforgiving and that so many people die before their time (in fiction and reality) but from a narrative standpoint it doesn't work. It doesn't hold the emotional gut-punch that it should. Yes, we all cried in the moment (and are still crying now) but how many people are angry? How many people find this "death" pointless and inconsequential? How many people think that it fell flat? I said months ago that I wouldn't be happy if all of this development that Tech was getting was just leading to him dying at the end of the season. It's weak storytelling imo. And that's why I think he's not dead. We may not always agree with the direction that writers choose to take characters, but I think that killing Tech here would completely miss the mark and I trust that they wouldn't do that.

Parallels to Echo's "death"

Coming off that point and characters not really being dead, this whole situation with Tech feels very reminiscent of what happens to Echo. A character that sacrificed themselves and was left behind, believed to be dead? If he has been taken by Hemlock and is going to be experimented on, then it really parallels what happened with Echo. And if I'm completely honest, I don't totally know how I feel about this. Yes, I'm happy that it means that there is a good chance that Tech is alive, but I also worry that that narrative is going to start feeling very repetitive.

We've touched on the idea of Crosshair's story paralleling Echo's and how that could lead to some interesting character dynamics. I have always been really interested in exploring that and how it could create an interesting understanding between those to characters. But now having the same happen with Tech? I don't know. Part of me worries that they are at risk of just telling the same story over and over again. It removes the idea of this unique dynamic between Crosshair and Echo. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see Tech and Crosshair having something as personal as this to bond over, but we don't know much about their past yet. I feel like it would've been interesting to explore a connection between those two from their past and let Echo keep this story beat as a way of becoming even more entangled with the Batch. I guess I'm just worried that they are going to make this a connection point between Tech and Crosshair and Echo is going to get sidelined again.

Also, three members (aka 50% of the Bad Batch) having very similar story arcs involving being left, experimented on and then rescued? I don't hate it, but it could get a bit too repetitive for my liking.

Wrecker

Time for some character breakdowns! Oh, Wrecker... I wanna give him a big hug, I really do. Back in TCW, Wrecker was shown to be really close to Crosshair. With the competitions that they had going on, you could tell that there was a strong bond there. And even at the beginning of TBB season 1 when he's hitting Cross with Lula, you can see that close brotherly dynamic. And then all the stuff with Crosshair happened and Wrecker lost that. It would've been a massive blow to suddenly no longer have that presence there. We've seen Wrecker say that he misses Cross, you can hear the heartbreak when he confronts Cross about not trying to come back, and you can hear the hope in his voice when he finds out that Crosshair might have betrayed the Empire. Losing Crosshair was a massive blow, especially for someone who is as emotionally in-tune as Wrecker.

And then season 2. Crosshair isn't there, so we really get to see one his deep connections with another brother: Tech. Him helping Tech at the riot race, him helping Tech during 2x9 even though they had been bickering the whole time, and then him teasing Tech in 2x13. We really got to see the bond between those two this season, which makes it all the more heartbreaking. Wrecker lost Crosshair and then he lost Tech.

And then he lost Omega. We know how close he was with her. He had one of the most prominent connections to her in S1 and even some really sweet moments in season 2. They were incredibly close and now she has been taken as well. Wrecker is having everyone taken away from him and it hurts so much to watch, especially for someone who is as open about their emotions as he is. I just want to give him the biggest hug.

"Yeah. Me too."

And you know what, he probably blames himself as well. He was going to go to grab Tech but it was too unsafe. Tech knew this, that's why he sacrificed himself. But Wrecker was the one to try and grab him and instead he just had to watch his brother fall into the clouds. And then he couldn't protect Omega either. He lost two members of his family in quick succession and he probably blames himself for both of their losses. Everyone does, but with Wrecker especially, he probably believes that he didn't do enough to protect Tech.

Echo

(Fun fact I actually started full on crying while writing this section)

*Deep sigh* Okay. Time to mentally prepare myself for this bit.

Anyone who knows this page will know that I love Echo so much. He is hands down my favourite Batcher and one of my favourite Star Wars characters of all time (along with Rex), so anything sad to do with him is painful to watch. I'm not gonna lie, I think I might actually be handling Tech's "death" better than the scene of Echo alone in the cockpit. I can think of Tech falling and just about hold myself together, but I think about that scene with Echo and it breaks me (although that may also be the denial I am in about Tech).

But enough about my personal feelings on this bit, let's break that scene down.

"I don't enjoy solitude."

Yeah... that somehow hurts even more than it did. He hates being alone and yet instead of going to be with one of the Batchers (e.g. sitting with Wrecker), he chose to go and sit alone on the Marauder. That deep sigh and the despondent look over at the empty chair next to him is one of the hardest things that I have had to watch in this show.

This man has already lost his entire squad. He was there when Droidbait, Cutup and Hevy died. He came back from Skako Minor only to find out that Fives was gone too. He lost the brothers closest to him and now that he's found this second family, he's losing them also. We know how close Echo was with Tech especially. Those two were in sync a lot of the time. We didn't see them together as much this season as we did in season 1, but we have moments like in 2x8 when they are working together to get the information off the Venator. Tech was Echo's partner in crime, much like Fives used to be, and now he's gone as well. As much as I don't want Echo to die, I don't want him to be the last one standing and this is why. Just thinking about how much this must hurt Echo is beyond heartbreaking.

And just because this wasn't sad enough, I'm going to throw another thought out there: Echo feels guilty for not spending more time with the Batch. We don't know for certain, but I definitely wouldn't be surprised if he felt this way. I've spoken before about relating to Echo and seeing a lot of my own feelings reflected in him and this would be one of those moments. I've lost people before who I wish that I had spoken to more. All you can think about is every time that you wish you had just stayed on the phone longer, or said hi when you could, rather than being distracted by other things. Echo probably feels the same way. He spent what was probably over a month with Rex and while we know that it was the right thing for him and the right choice to make, he probably regrets not spending more time with the Batch and with Tech. In that moment, I imagine that he's thinking about many things: Crosshair, Domino Squad, whether he would've been able to spend more time with or even save Fives if he hadn't blown up, and all the time that he spent with Rex that he could've spent with Tech.

Even if you make the right decisions in life, it can still be hard to look back and not regret things. I think that this is one of those things for Echo. He made the right choice in joining the Rebellion but now he's lost Tech and he will never get to spend that time with him again.

Hunter

This is where things might start getting controversial because I seem to disagree with a lot of people about Hunter's reaction to things and by that, I mean that I understand why he reacted the way he did. Now, I want to preface this by saying that me understanding his response doesn't mean that I'm not angry at him on some level ("Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you" *gets sad thinking about tech again*).

I've seen some people saying that Hunter's response was apathetic and out of character for him and I've got to say this... no it wasn't. I find it interesting that a lot of the people that I've seen defending him are (like me) not particularly big Hunter fans. A lot of Hunter stans are going off about how this response doesn't make sense but to me it does. Now this is just speculation, but I wonder how much people's headcanons and perceptions of Hunter started to cloud their idea of who he is as a character. As much as I don't love Hunter, I do recognise the fact that he is a man with a lot of those flaws and those flaws can make him interesting, but I think that some people miss them because they look at him with rose-tinted glasses and see him as the perfect dad. But let's break down why I think Hunter's response makes sense.

I'm not going to lie, when I first heard Hunter say that they were going to get Omega back, my first response was "where was this energy with Crosshair?" and its that response that opens this up for analysis. Hunter wasn't sure if Crosshair needing help was a trap (which I've already said in another post was a valid response), so he was never going to react to Crosshair needing help in the same way as Omega needing it. Yes, it's harsh, but that doubt would've always been there. And Hunter's just lost one of his brothers trying to go back for Crosshair. They have no idea where Hemlock is, they don't actually know what is happening to Crosshair, Hunter has never been 100% certain that the whole situation isn't a trap and now Tech has just died because of it.

Yes, Tech sacrificed himself to not just help the others, but to also help Crosshair, but all that means nothing if they're all dead. Hunter, Omega, Wrecker and Echo just about escaped with their lives and with no information, it didn't seem reasonable to carry on with the mission. They couldn't do it with five of them, how would they manage with four? And you also have to remember that Hunter has a child to worry about. Yes, they could get Crosshair back but that's a very big ask. What happens if another one of them dies? Omega is left alone? All of this needs to be taken into consideration. Making the decision to settle on Pabu was a reasonable choice, even if it hurts to know that Crosshair is going to stay trapped with the Empire.

You can disagree with it, you can be angry at it, you can list all the reasons why Hunter is wrong but you can't ignore all the reasons why Hunter is right either. Like I said, I am also angry at it. But tbf, I think I'm more angry at the situation than I am at Hunter. It took me a few hours to work that out, but I get why Hunter chose what he did. I wanted them to carry on fighting for Crosshair but I also understand why he chose to stay on Pabu. And I also get why he chose to go back for Omega. Yes, she's a child, but he also knows for certain that she is actually in trouble. He could never be sure of that with Crosshair, he knows that Omega is in a situation she didn't choose. It's frustrating, but it makes sense.

And going back to people's perceptions of Hunter, I think some people fail to see that actually, a lot of what Hunter does is with selfish intentions. A lot of it is disguised as things that are for the greater good, and I think he believes that as well, but a lot of his decisions are based on what he feels. Yes, he's the one that is in charge of the squad, but his decisions tend to be more self-centred than some people realise. I think that's why Echo is an interesting addition the the squad. He's not only second in command, but he's also not afraid to push back against Hunter and his decisions; he's more willing to question the sergeant's choices. And I think part of that is from Echo's own stubbornness as well. (Side note: Echo's choices can also be a little self-centred (like when he agrees to going to Coruscant without much discussion) and I acknowledge that). We know that Hunter's choices aren't always what the squad thinks because we see them choosing to vote against his decision in 2x1.

I think that if you really look at Hunter and realise just how flawed he is, and how many of his choices are selfish, it makes sense why he said what he said in this episode. It isn't out of character for him.

However, that's not to say that you can't get angry about it. Hunter's devotion to Omega has caused him to make some weird decisions and at points it can feel like he cares more about her than his brothers. I think a lot of that may be down to the fact that he's never been in this position before and isn't use to what it's like to be a father. Parents can make some odd sacrifices for their children and we may not always agree with them. So while I think it's perfectly reasonable to not like Hunter that much here, I don't think that it's necessarily strange behaviour for him. It's exactly what I'd expect given what we've seen from him up until this point.

Random additional point that I somehow missed: Hunter has now lost half of his squad. Do you realise how much stress that man must be under? He probably feels like a failure, so it makes sense for his initial response to be "let's go and find somewhere safe" and then hitting a breaking point that leads to "we're not losing anyone else" (although that breaking point is also heavily influenced by his selfish thoughts).

Emerie Clone Reveal

Honestly, I don't have a whole lot to say about this bit, just that it kind of fell a bit flat? I have two reasons for why this might be.

We predicted that it would happen. That's not to say that twists like that can't be satisfying, but rather than ending on a shock revelation, it ended on more of a "we know" moment.

I was in such an emotional state over the rest of it that I just didn't care. I had greater concerns at this point so it didn't really hit that hard.

But those are my opinions. I don't know how this scene was for other people, but for me, I don't think it had quite the gravity that they were going for.

Feelings now vs 2x8

This is less of an analysis of the episode itself, but more of a reflection of my own feelings. What surprised me is that even though this episode destroyed me in the moment, I'm weirdly not going through the same "crying every time I think about this episode" moment that I did after episode 8. I really struggle after 2x8. Every time I thought about that final scene I just cried (which led to me trying to pull myself together on the way to lectures before I started sobbing in public). But with the finale... I'm sad but I don't cry about everything? Or at least not the parts that I expected to be in bits over. I can think about Tech falling without bursting into tears, but I think about that 20 second moment with Echo and have to grab the nearest box of tissues.

I think it's because of a mixture of things. One is that I am in denial over Tech's death. I don't believe that he's actually dead and even if I did, then I'd just be more annoyed at weak storytelling than actually being sad about it. Another is that as much as I love Tech, Echo will always mean so much more to me. I connect with Echo on a level that I don't with Tech, so I'm always going to have a stronger emotional reaction to content with him in. I cried so hard when Tech "died" but now I'm having more of a breakdown over Wrecker and Echo's reactions. It's strange, but there are a lot of complicated feelings over this episode.

Summary

...I don't know. There are a lot of thoughts and emotions swirling around with this episode. I do have some criticisms and worries, but I don't think that they're bad episodes. I preferred this season over the last (despite having gripes over the lack of Crosshair and Echo) and I think that the entire team did a really great job.

The ending was always going to be controversial. People have ideas of what they think is going to happen and when that doesn't happen, the default reaction can be "this is bad". I think everyone is just a little bit lost atm, but I'll be interested to see what the consensus is a little bit further down the line. Feelings are very much a mess right now.

But I guess that these are my thoughts for now. Turns out that a lot of my predictions were way off the mark but I'm not mad about it. I'm glad that it didn't go exactly how I expected. I'm a little bit cautious about some story elements moving forward (as mentioned in the rest of the post) but I'm looking forward to where they take this show (preferably more Echo and Cross content).

I've just realised that I didn't say anything about Omega's feelings. Oops. Clearly that's not where my head is at right now.